your wanderers and prodigals and black sheep, little though
you may believe it, appreciate family union and social ties much more
than your steady-going respectables who never stray without the routine
circle of upright existence; never err; are never banned as outcasts!

The former look upon "home"--what a world does the very name convey to
one who has never known what it is!--much as Moore's "Peri" regarded
Paradise, and as the lost angels may wistfully think of the heaven from
which they were expelled. Perhaps they overrate its attributes,
imagining, as they do, that it is a blissful state of being, for ever
debarred to them; but they _do_ have such feelings--the dregs, probably,
of their bitter nature!

I can speak to the point, for, I was one of this class.

_I_ was a prodigal, a black sheep, a wanderer. One on whom Fate had
written on his forehead at his birth, "unstable as water, thou shalt not
excel," and yet, I had the madness, (you may call it so,) to dream of
regeneration and happiness!

How many a time had I not pictured to myself the home of my longing.
Nothing grand or great occurred to me--my old ambitions were dead.

I only wished for a little domain of my own, where some _one_ would look
up to me, at all events, watching for my coming, and receiving me with
gladness "in sorrow or in rest." A kingdom of affection, where no angry
word should be ever spoken or heard; where peace and love would reign,
no matter what befell!

It was a dream:--you are right. I thought so, now, often enough, far
away from England and all that I held dear; and, unsuccessful as I
always had been, as I always seemed doomed to be!

Happiness for me? What a very ridiculous idea! I was a lunatic. I
should "laugh with myself," as poor Parole d'Honneur used to say!

I knew what sundry kindly-natured persons would say, in the event of my
returning to England empty-handed, were I to lead the steadiest life
possible.--"Here is Frank Lorton back again like a bad penny!"--they
would sneer.--"Reformed from all his wild ways, eh? Really, Mrs
Grundy, you must not expect us to believe _that_! Can the leopard
change his spots?"--and so on; or else, kindly hint, that,--"when the
devil was sick, the devil a monk would be: when the devil got well, the
devil a monk was he."--Oh yes, I had little doubt what _their_
charitable judgment would be!

Still, the thought of these people's opinions did not oppress me much;
for I knew equ