ought not to laugh it away; for he
pointed to the fragments, and with a quaint look at the young monk--

'Our nurses used to tell us, '"If you can't make it, You ought not to
break it."'

'I had no nurse,' said Philammon.

'Ah!--that accounts--for this and other things. Well,' he went on, with
the most provoking good-nature, 'you are in a fair road, my handsome
youth; I wish you joy of your fellow-workmen, and of your apprenticeship
in the noble art of monkery. Riot and pillage, shrieking women and
houseless children in your twentieth summer, are the sure path to a
Saint-ship, such as Paul of Tarsus, who, with all his eccentricities,
was a gentleman, certainly never contemplated. I have heard of Phoebus
Apollo under many disguises, but this is the first time I ever saw him
in the wolf's hide.'

'Or in the lion's,' said Philammon, trying in his shame to make a fine
speech.

'Like the Ass in the Fable. Farewell! Stand out of the way, friends!
'Ware teeth and poison!'

And he disappeared among the crowd, who made way respectfully enough for
his dagger and his brindled companion.

CHAPTER VII: THOSE BY WHOM OFFENCES COME

Philammon's heart smote him all that day, whenever he thought of his
morning's work. Till then all Christians, monks above all, had been
infallible in his eyes: all Jews and heathens insane and accursed.
Moreover, meekness under insult, fortitude in calamity, the contempt of
worldly comfort, the worship of poverty as a noble estate, were virtues
which the Church Catholic boasted as her peculiar heritage: on which
side had the balance of those qualities inclined that morning? The
figure of Raphael, stalking out ragged and penniless into the wide
world, haunted him, with its quiet self-assured smile. And there haunted
him, too, another peculiarity in the man, which he had never before
remarked in any one but Arsenius--that ease and grace, that courtesy and
self-restraint, which made Raphael's rebukes rankle all the more keenly,
because he felt that the rebuker was in some mysterious way superior to
him, and saw through him, and could have won him Over, Or crushed him
in argument, or in intrigue--or in anything, perhaps, except mere brute
force. Strange--that Raphael, of all men, should in those few moments
have reminded him so much of Arsenius; and that the very same qualities
which gave a peculiar charm to the latter should give a peculiar
unloveliness to the former, and yet be, without a d