ung man.

'Why, no! And, between ourselves, it is that which induces me to doubt
sometimes the truth of my opinions. My life, upon the whole, I consider
a failure; on which account, I would not counsel you, or any one, to
follow my example too closely. It is getting late, and you had better be
going, especially as your father, you say, is anxious about you. But, as
we may never meet again, I think there are three things which I may
safely venture to press upon you. The first is, that the decencies and
gentlenesses should never be lost sight of, as the practice of the
decencies and gentlenesses is at all times compatible with independence
of thought and action. The second thing which I would wish to impress
upon you is, that there is always some eye upon us; and that it is
impossible to keep anything we do from the world, as it will assuredly be
divulged by somebody as soon as it is his interest to do so. The third
thing which I would wish to press upon you--'

'Yes,' said the youth, eagerly bending forward.

'Is--' and here the elderly individual laid down his pipe upon the
table--'that it will be as well to go on improving yourself in German!'

CHAPTER XXIV

The alehouse-keeper--Compassion for the rich--Old English gentleman--How
is this?--Madeira--The Greek Parr--Twenty languages--Whiter's
health--About the fight--A sporting gentleman--The flattened nose--Lend
us that pightle--The surly nod.

'Holloa, master! can you tell us where the fight is likely to be?'

Such were the words shouted out to me by a short thick fellow, in brown
top-boots, and bareheaded, who stood, with his hands in his pockets, at
the door of a country alehouse as I was passing by.

Now, as I knew nothing about the fight, and as the appearance of the man
did not tempt me greatly to enter into conversation with him, I merely
answered in the negative, and continued my way.

It was a fine lovely morning in May, the sun shone bright above, and the
birds were carolling in the hedgerows. I was wont to be cheerful at such
seasons, for, from my earliest recollection, sunshine and the song of
birds have been dear to me; yet, about that period, I was not cheerful,
my mind was not at rest; I was debating within myself, and the debate was
dreary and unsatisfactory enough. I sighed, and turning my eyes upward,
I ejaculated, 'What is truth?'

But suddenly, by a violent effort breaking away from my meditations, I
hastened forward; one