and embarrassed, this young man, who had many honourable and religious
sentiments and genuine feelings, but no power of adhering to principle or
reason, was miserable beyond expression one hour--and the next he became
totally forgetful that there was any thing to be thought of but the
amusement of the moment. Incapable of coming to any serious decision, he
walked up and down his room talking, partly to himself, and partly, for
want of a better companion, to his brother John.

"So I must pay Wallis to-morrow, or he'll arrest me; and I must give my
father an answer about the church to-night--for he writes to the bishop,
and will wait no longer. Oh! hang it.' hang it, John! what the devil shall
I do? My father won't pay a farthing for me, unless I go into the church!"

"Well, then, why can't you go into the church!" said John: "since you are
through the university, the worst is over."

"But I think it so wrong, so base--for money--for emolument! I cannot
do it. I am not fit for the church--I know I shall disgrace it," said
Buckhurst, striking his forehead: "I cannot do it--I can not--it is against
my conscience."

John stopped, as he was filling his shooting-pouch, and looked at
Buckhurst (his mouth half open) with an expression of surprise at these
demonstrations of sensibility. He had some sympathy for the external
symptoms of pain which he saw in his brother, but no clear conception of
the internal cause.

"Why, Buckhurst," said he, "if you cannot do it, you can't, you know,
Buckhurst: but I don't see why you should be a disgrace to the church more
than another, as my father says. If I were but through the university, I