lian that day than hindrance in his
career of ambition and hope. He had lost a golden opportunity for an
act of Christian forgiveness which might have had the noblest influence
on the life of an erring human soul. He had lost a golden opportunity
of doing lasting good, and that, too, to one who hated him. Alas, it is
too seldom that we have power in life to raise up them that fall!
Julian felt bitterly, he felt even with poignancy, Brogten's closing
words; but it was too late now to offer the forgiveness which would have
been invaluable to his persecutor, and would have had a healing effect
on his own troubled thoughts so short a time before. All this gave
deeper vexation to Julian's heart as he went moodily to bed.

And Brogten? He sat sullenly over his fire till the last spark died
from its ashes, and his lamp flickered out, and he shivered with cold.
"It is of no use to conquer myself," he thought; "it is of no use to do
better or be better if this comes of it. Horse-whipped, and by him!"
But, as he had said, he no longer grieved over Julian's injury. _That_
was wiped off by the horse-whipping, and he had now made himself
understand that his inward respect for Home was deeper than the long
superficial quarrel that had existed between them. It was against
Kennedy that the current of his anger now swept this ever-growing
temptation for revenge. His craving, often yielded to, became terrible
in its virulence, and from this day forward there was in Brogten's
character a marked change for the worse. He ever watched for his
opportunity, certain that it would come in time; and this encouragement
of one bad passion opened the floodgates for a hundred more. And so on
this evening he went on selling himself more and more completely to the
devil, till the anger within him burned with a red heat, and as he went
to bed the last words he muttered to himself were, "That fellow Kennedy
shall rue it; curse him, he shall rue it to his dying day."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE CLERKLAND SCHOLARSHIP.

How different our smaller trials look, when they are seen from the
distance of a quiet and refreshful rest. Utterly wearied, Julian slept
deeply, and when the servant awoke him next morning, he determined that
as the errors of yesterday were irreparable, he would at least save the
chances of to-day.

He rose at once, and read during breakfast the letter from home, which
came to him from one of his family nearly every day. T