es, the colour
of the oak and the folios, the rich Turkey carpets, lent to the
library that happy air of separation from the brutalities of life
which is almost sanctity. These, the familiar aspects of the Temple,
moved him with all their old enchantments; he lingered in the warm
summer mornings when all the Temple was astir, gossiping with the
students, or leaning upon the balustrades in pensive contemplation of
the fleet river.

But these moods of passive happiness were interrupted more frequently
than they had been in earlier years by the old whispering voice, now
grown strangely distinct, which asked, but no longer through laughing
lips, if it were possible to discern any purpose in life, and if all
thoughts and things were not as vain as a little measure of sand. The
dark fruit that hangs so alluringly over the wall of the garden of
life now met his eyes frequently, tempting him, and perforce he must
stay to touch and consider it. Then, resolved to baffle at all costs
the disease which he now knew pursued him, he plunged in the crowd of
drunkenness and debauchery which swelled the Strand at night. He was
found where prize-fighters brawled, and card-sharpers cajoled; where
hall singers fed on truffled dishes, and courtesans laughed and
called for champagne. He was seen in Lubini's sprawling over luncheon
tables till late in the afternoon, and at nightfall lingering about
the corners of the streets, talking to the women that passed. In such
low form of vice he sought escape. He turned to gambling, risking
large sums, sometimes imperilling his fortune for the sake of the
assuagement such danger brought of the besetting sin. But luck poured
thousands into his hands; and he applied himself to the ruin of one
seeking to bring about his death.

"Before I kill myself," he said, "I will kill others; I'm weary of
playing at Faust, now I'll play at Mephistopheles."

Henceforth all men who had money, or friends who had money, were
invited to Temple Gardens. You met there members of both Houses of
Parliament--the successors of Muchross and Snowdown; and men
exquisitely dressed, with quick, penetrating eyes, assembled there,
actors and owners of race-horses galore, and bright-complexioned
young men of many affections. Rising now from the piano one is heard
to say reproachfully, "You never admire anything I wear," to a grave
friend who had passed some criticism on the flower in the young man's
button-hole.

It was still ear