ond clasp. He was rather
troubled what to do with them. The jewel had so pointedly been intended
for Jenny, that he could scarcely help dealing rightly in that instance;
but the division of the money was not so clear. A man who was just and
generous would have given the sovereign to Fortune, and have kept the
half-louis (worth about 8 shillings 6 pence) for himself; but Feathers
tone was not generous, and not particularly anxious to be just. The
portion to be appropriated to Fortune dwindled in his thoughts, until it
reached half-a-crown, and there for very shame's sake it stayed.

"And why not?" demanded Mr Featherstone of his conscience, when it made
a feeble remonstrance. "Did not His Majesty say, `Divide it as thou
list'? Pray who am I, that I am not to obey His Majesty?"

Had His Majesty's order been a little less in accordance with his own
inclinations, perhaps Mr Featherstone would not have found it so
incumbent on him to obey it. It is astonishing how easy a virtue
becomes when it runs alongside a man's interest and choice.
Featherstone had never learned self-denial; and that is a virtue nearly
as hard to exercise without practice as it would be to play a tune on a
musical instrument which the player had never handled before. In that
wonderful allegory, the _Holy War_--which is less read than its
companion, the _Pilgrim's Progress_, but deserves it quite as much--
Bunyan represents Self-Denial as a plain citizen of Mansoul, of whom
Prince Immanuel made first a captain, and then a lord. But he would
never have been selected for either honour, if he had not first done his
unobtrusive duty as a quiet citizen. Self-denial and self-control are
not commonly admired virtues just now. Yet he is a very poor man who
has not these most valuable possessions.

Robin Featherstone stayed with the Colonel just as long as it suited
himself, and until he had exhausted such pleasures as he could have in
Paris without knowing a word of the French language, which he was too
lazy to learn. What a vast amount of good, not to speak of pleasure,
men lose by laziness! When this point was reached, Featherstone told
the Colonel that he wished to return to England; and Colonel Lane, who,
happily for himself, was not lazy, set things in train, and procured for
Robert a passage to England in the service of a gentleman who was going
home.

"I wonder how little Jenny's going on," said our idle friend to himself,
as he drew near