w the die was cast, the decision made. It was with no regret that
I wrote to Trevanion to decline his offers. Nor was the sacrifice so
great--even putting aside the natural pride which had before inclined to
it--as it may seem to some; for restless though I was, I had labored
to constrain myself to other views of life than those which close the
vistas of ambition with images of the terrestrial deities, Power and
Rank. Had I not been behind the scenes, noted all of joy and of peace
that the pursuit of power had cost Trevanion, and seen how little of
happiness rank gave even to one of the polished habits and graceful
attributes of Lord Castleton? Yet each nature seemed fitted so
well,--the first for power, the last for rank! It is marvellous with
what liberality Providence atones for the partial dispensations of
Fortune. Independence, or the vigorous pursuit of it; affection, with
its hopes and its rewards; a life only rendered by Art more susceptible
to Nature, in which the physical enjoyments are pure and healthful, in
which the moral faculties expand harmoniously with the intellectual, and
the heart is at peace with the mind,--is this a mean lot for ambition
to desire, and is it so far out of human reach? "Know thyself," said the
old philosophy. "Improve thyself," saith the new. The great object of
the Sojourner in Time is not to waste all his passions and gifts on the
things external that he must leave behind,--that which he cultivates
within is all that he can carry into the Eternal Progress. We are here
but as schoolboys, whose life begins where school ends; and the
battles we fought with our rivals, and the toys that we shared with our
playmates, and the names that we carved, high or low, on the wall above
our desks,--will they so much bestead us hereafter? As new fates crowd
upon us, can they more than pass through the memory with a smile or a
sigh? Look back to thy schooldays and answer.

CHAPTER XI.

Two weeks since the date of the preceding chapter have passed; we have
slept our last, for long years to come, on the English soil. It is
night, and Vivian has been admitted to an interview with his father.
They have been together alone an hour and more, and I and my father
will not disturb them. But the clock strikes, the hour is late, the ship
sails to-night; we should be on board. And as we two stand below, the
door opens in the room above, and a heavy step descends the stairs: the
father is leaning on the