cuses, though always promising to do as his father
desired very shortly.

CHAPTER LVI

By and by a subtle, indefinable _malaise_ began to take possession of
him. I once saw a very young foal trying to eat some most objectionable
refuse, and unable to make up its mind whether it was good or no. Clearly
it wanted to be told. If its mother had seen what it was doing she would
have set it right in a moment, and as soon as ever it had been told that
what it was eating was filth, the foal would have recognised it and never
have wanted to be told again; but the foal could not settle the matter
for itself, or make up its mind whether it liked what it was trying to
eat or no, without assistance from without. I suppose it would have come
to do so by and by, but it was wasting time and trouble, which a single
look from its mother would have saved, just as wort will in time ferment
of itself, but will ferment much more quickly if a little yeast be added
to it. In the matter of knowing what gives us pleasure we are all like
wort, and if unaided from without can only ferment slowly and toilsomely.

My unhappy hero about this time was very much like the foal, or rather he
felt much what the foal would have felt if its mother and all the other
grown-up horses in the field had vowed that what it was eating was the
most excellent and nutritious food to be found anywhere. He was so
anxious to do what was right, and so ready to believe that every one knew
better than himself, that he never ventured to admit to himself that he
might be all the while on a hopelessly wrong tack. It did not occur to
him that there might be a blunder anywhere, much less did it occur to him
to try and find out where the blunder was. Nevertheless he became daily
more full of _malaise_, and daily, only he knew it not, more ripe for an
explosion should a spark fall upon him.

One thing, however, did begin to loom out of the general vagueness, and
to this he instinctively turned as trying to seize it--I mean, the fact
that he was saving very few souls, whereas there were thousands and
thousands being lost hourly all around him which a little energy such as
Mr Hawke's might save. Day after day went by, and what was he doing?
Standing on professional _etiquette_, and praying that his shares might
go up and down as he wanted them, so that they might give him money
enough to enable him to regenerate the universe. But in the meantime the
people were