pessimist. Let us give it the
better name.'

Peak had never been so communicative. His progress in composition these
last evenings seemed to have raised his spirits and spurred the
activity of his mind. With a look of pleasure he pursued his
self-analysis.

'Special antipathies--sometimes explicable enough--influence me very
widely. Now, I by no means hate all orders of uneducated people. A
hedger, a fisherman, a country mason,--people of that kind I rather
like to talk with. I could live a good deal with them. But the London
vulgar I abominate, root and branch. The mere sound of their voices
nauseates me; their vilely grotesque accent and pronunciation--bah! I
could write a paper to show that they are essentially the basest of
English mortals. Unhappily, I know so much about them. If I saw the
probability of my dying in a London lodging-house, I would go out into
the sweet-scented fields and there kill myself.'

Earwaker understood much by this avowal, and wondered whether his
friend desired him so to do.

'Well, I can't say that I have any affection for the race,' he replied.
'I certainly believe that, socially and politically, there is less hope
of them than of the lower orders in any other part of England.'

'They are damned by the beastly conditions of their life!' cried
Godwin, excitedly. 'I don't mean only the slum-denizens. All, all
Hammersmith as much as St. George's-in-the-East. I must write about
this; I must indeed.'

'Do by all means. Nothing would benefit you more than to get your soul
into print.'

Peak delayed a little, then:

'Well, I am doing something at last.'

And he gave an account of his projected essay. By this time his hands
trembled with nervous agitation, and occasionally a dryness of the
palate half choked his voice.

'This may do very well,' opined Earwaker. 'I suppose you will try _The
Critical_?'

'Yes. But have I any chance? Can a perfectly unknown man hope to get
in?'

They debated this aspect of the matter. Seeing Peak had laid down his
pipe, the journalist offered him tobacco.

'Thanks; I can't smoke just yet. It's my misfortune that I can't talk
earnestly without throwing my body into disorder.'

'How stolid I am in comparison!' said Earwaker.

'That book of M'Naughten's,' resumed the other, going back to his
subject. 'I suppose the clergy accept it?'

'Largely, I believe.'

Peak mused.

'Now, if I were a clergyman'--

But his eye met Earwaker's, and they