all, my dear Reding," said Carlton. "It's not as if
he could not afford it; he has a good living waiting for him; and,
moreover, he is thus losing no time, which is a great thing in life.
Much time is often lost. White will soon find himself settled in every
sense of the word, in mind, in life, in occupation."

Charles said that there was one thing which could not help surprising
him, namely, that when White first came up he was so strong in his
advocacy of clerical celibacy. Carlton and Sheffield laughed. "And do
you think," said the former, "that a youth of eighteen can have an
opinion on such a subject, or knows himself well enough to make a
resolution in his own case? Do you really think it fair to hold a man
committed to all the random opinions and extravagant sayings into which
he was betrayed when he first left school?"

"He had read some ultra-book or other," said Sheffield; "or had seen
some beautiful nun sculptured on a chancel-screen, and was carried away
by romance--as others have been and are."

"Don't you suppose," said Carlton, "that those good fellows who now are
so full of 'sacerdotal purity,' 'angelical blessedness,' and so on, will
one and all be married by this time ten years?"

"I'll take a bet of it," said Sheffield: "one will give in early, one
late, but there is a time destined for all. Pass some ten or twelve
years, as Carlton says, and we shall find A.B. on a curacy, the happy
father of ten children; C.D. wearing on a long courtship till a living
falls; E.F. in his honeymoon; G.H. lately presented by Mrs. H. with
twins; I.K. full of joy, just accepted; L.M. may remain what Gibbon
calls 'a column in the midst of ruins,' and a very tottering column
too."

"Do you really think," said Charles, "that people mean so little what
they say?"

"You take matters too seriously, Reding," answered Carlton; "who does
not change his opinions between twenty and thirty? A young man enters
life with his father's or tutor's views; he changes them for his own.
The more modest and diffident he is, the more faith he has, so much the
longer does he speak the words of others; but the force of
circumstances, or the vigour of his mind, infallibly obliges him at last
to have a mind of his own; that is, if he is good for anything."

"But I suspect," said Reding, "that the last generation, whether of
fathers or tutors, had no very exalted ideas of clerical celibacy."

"Accidents often clothe us with opinions which