ghly practical man of the world, and he regarded with
no favourable eye the tenets of anyone who looked on the two things
as incompatible. When he found that Mr. Arabin was a half Roman, he
began to regret all he had done towards bestowing a fellowship on
so unworthy a recipient; and when again he learnt that Mr. Arabin
would probably complete his journey to Rome, he regarded with some
satisfaction the fact that in such case the fellowship would be again
vacant.

When, however, Mr. Arabin returned and professed himself a confirmed
Protestant, the Master of Lazarus again opened his arms to him, and
gradually he became the pet of the college. For some little time he
was saturnine, silent, and unwilling to take any prominent part in
university broils, but gradually his mind recovered, or rather made
its tone, and he became known as a man always ready at a moment's
notice to take up the cudgels in opposition to anything that savoured
of an evangelical bearing. He was great in sermons, great on
platforms, great at after-dinner conversations, and always pleasant
as well as great. He took delight in elections, served on committees,
opposed tooth and nail all projects of university reform, and talked
jovially over his glass of port of the ruin to be anticipated by the
Church and of the sacrilege daily committed by the Whigs. The ordeal
through which he had gone in resisting the blandishments of the lady
of Rome had certainly done much towards the strengthening of his
character. Although in small and outward matters he was self-confident
enough, nevertheless in things affecting the inner man he aimed at a
humility of spirit which would never have been attractive to him but
for that visit to the coast of Cornwall. This visit he now repeated
every year.

Such is an interior view of Mr. Arabin at the time when he accepted
the living of St. Ewold. Exteriorly, he was not a remarkable person.
He was above the middle height, well-made, and very active. His hair,
which had been jet black, was now tinged with gray, but his face
bore no sign of years. It would perhaps be wrong to say that he was
handsome, but his face was nevertheless pleasant to look upon. The
cheek-bones were rather too high for beauty, and the formation of the
forehead too massive and heavy: but the eyes, nose, and mouth were
perfect. There was a continual play of lambent fire about his eyes,
which gave promise of either pathos or humour whenever he essayed to
speak