ar to the specious sophistries of
German philosophers. It would be well if you were to turn to our
Christian philosophers; our great cardinal--Cardinal Newman--has over
and over again refuted the enemies of the Church. I have forgotten
the name."

"Schopenhauer."

"Now I will give you absolution."

The burlesque into which his confession had drifted awakened new
terrors in John and sensations of sacrilege. He listened devoutly to
the prattle of the priest, and to crush the rebellious spirit in him
he promised to submit his poems; and he did not allow himself to
think the old man incapable of understanding them. But he knew he
would not submit those poems, and turning from the degradation he
faced a command which had suddenly come upon him. A great battle
raged; and growing at every moment less conscious of all save his
soul's salvation, he walked through the streets, his stick held
forward like a church candle.

He walked through the city, seeing it not, and hearing all cruel
voices dying to one--this: "I can only attain salvation by the
elimination of all responsibilities. There is therefore but one
course to adopt." Decision came upon him like the surgeon's knife. It
was in the cold darkness of his rooms in Pump Court. He raised his
face, deadly pale, from his hands; but gradually it went aflame with
the joy and rapture of sacrifice, and taking his manuscript, he
lighted it in the gas. He held it for a few moments till it was well
on fire, and then threw it all blazing under the grate.

CHAPTER II

An odour of spirits evaporated in the warm winds of May which came
through the open window. The rich velvet sofa of early English design
was littered with proofs and copies of the _Pilgrim_, and the stamped
velvet was two shades richer in tone than the pale dead-red of the
floorcloth. Small pictures in light frames harmonized with a green
paper of long interlacing leaves. On the right, the grand piano and
the slender brass lamps; and the impression of refinement and taste
was continued, for between the blue chintz curtains the river lay
soft as a picture of old Venice. The beauty of the water, full of
the shadows of hay and sails, many forms of chimneys, wharfs, and
warehouses, made panoramic and picturesque by the motion of the great
hay-boats, were surely wanted for the windows of this beautiful
apartment.

Mike and Frank stood facing the view, and talked of Lily Young, whom
Mike was momentarily expecti