from you. I ought to, for I owe everything to you; but--"

"But, my dear boy--'better is he that ruleth his spirit, than he that
taketh a city.'"

John Briggs tapped his foot on the ground impatiently. "I cannot
help it, sir. It will drive me mad, I think at times,--this
contrast between what I might be, and what I am, I can bear it no
longer--mixing medicines here, when I might be educating myself,
distinguishing myself--for I can do it; have you not said as much
yourself to me again and again?"

"I have, of course; but--"

"But, sir, only hear me. It is in vain to ask me to command my temper
while I stay here. I am not fit for this work; not fit for the dull
country. I am not appreciated, not understood; and I shall never be,
till I can get to London,--till I can find congenial spirits, and take
my rightful place in the great parliament of mind. I am Pegasus in
harness, here!" cried the vain, discontented youth. "Let me but once
get there,--amid art, civilisation, intellect, and the company of men
like that old Mermaid Club, to hear and to answer--

'words,
So nimble, and so full of subtle flame,
As one had put his whole soul in a jest;'--

and then you shall see whether Pegasus has not wings, and can use them
too!" And he stopped suddenly, choking with emotion, his nostril and
chest dilating, his foot stamping impatiently on the ground.