ge
that I will not forget you, that I will ever remember you." He stopped,
much affected. "Oh, it is very hard to leave you all, to go to
strangers," he went on; "I do not wish it, but I cannot help it; I am
called, I am compelled." He stopped again; the tears flowed down his
cheeks. "All is well," he said, recovering himself, "all is well; but
it's hard at the time, and scarcely any one to feel for me; black looks,
bitter words.... I am pleasing myself, following my own will ...
well...." and he began looking at his fingers and slowly rubbing his
palms one on another. "It must be," he whispered to himself, "through
tribulation to the kingdom, sowing in tears, reaping in joy...." Another
pause, and a new train of thought came over him; "Oh," he said, "I fear
so very much, so very much, that all you who do not come forward will go
back. You cannot stand where you are; for a time you will think you do,
then you will oppose us, and still think you keep your ground while you
use the same words as before; but your belief, your opinions will
decline. You will hold less. And then, in time, it will strike you that,
in differing with Protestants, you are contending only about words. They
call us Rationalists; take care you don't fall into Liberalism. And now,
my dearest Carlton, my one friend in Oxford who was patient and loving
towards me, good-bye. May we meet not long hence in peace and joy. I
cannot go to you; you must come to me."

They embraced each other affectionately; and the next minute Charles was
running down the staircase.

CHAPTER VI.

Charles went to bed with a bad headache, and woke with a worse. Nothing
remained but to order his bill and be off for London. Yet he could not
go without taking a last farewell of the place itself. He was up soon
after seven; and while the gownsmen were rising and in their respective
chapels, he had been round Magdalen Walk and Christ Church Meadow. There
were few or none to see him wherever he went. The trees of the Water
Walk were variegated, as beseemed the time of year, with a thousand
hues, arching over his head, and screening his side. He reached
Addison's Walk; there he had been for the first time with his father,
when he was coming into residence, just six years before to a day. He
pursued it, and onwards still, till he came round in sight of the
beautiful tower, which at length rose close over his head. The morning
was frosty, and there was a mist; the leaves flit