It was arranged that Ellen was to stay some weeks at the Moat House shortly after her return, and many sweet walks and drives were planned by her impatient lover. How would she look? Was she changed? Would she be as pretty as ever? were questions which continually recurred to his mind; and it must be added, that William was in a state of feeling calculated to supersede in her mind, and to allow her to supersede in his, the solemn thoughts and strict resolves of their recent affliction, not intentionally nor consciously; but from allowing his old earthly attachment to come over him as it used, without subjecting it to his higher views and principles, and without being sobered and sanctified by them in this as in other lesser things.

Mr. Blake was much amused at William's illconcealed impatience and delight, in which he participated to a certain extent. For, though much sobered by the recent commemoration of his departed son, he was not a little glad to see William less grave, and more as young men used to be in his days.

CHAPTER VIII.

The Fall.

"Said I not so, that I would sin no more?
Witness my God, I did;

Yet I am run again upon the score:

My faults cannot be hid.

What shall I do? Make vows and break them still?
"Twill be but labour lost!

My good cannot prevail against my ill :

The business will be crost.

O say not so: thou canst not tell what strength
Thy God may give thee at the length."

GEORGE HERBERT.

SOME ten days after the Sunday upon which William Blake first became a communicant, he had occasion to attend a sale of stock and farming implements in a neighbouring village. He there met many of his old associates, for they could not be called friends, inasmuch, as John was everything to him whilst he lived, and since his death he had associated very little with any one, from grief at first, and afterwards from his engagement to Ellen, and the anxieties and the circumstances which we have already described. He had deserted the club to which he

G

belonged, and which used to meet every fortnight, at the Anchor, and had seen very little of his equals in age and station. On this occasion, however, he was greeted by many an acquaintance, and rallied considerably upon his solitary and strict life. He was not in general wanting in moral courage, nor did he care as much as most young men do for being laughed at; but now, partly from his high spirits, and partly from the excitement of the time, he was off his guard, and was induced to say that he would attend the club next evening. On his return home, he regretted his rash promise, for the club was not one for quiet conversation, but for cards and smoking, and had too often led to drinking to excess. He did not, however, know how to retract: and he half dishonestly, and half erroneously soothed his conscience by an old admonition of Mr. Lee not to quit the society of his equals, nor to show himself indifferent to their wishes and pursuits, a course which Mr. Lee said was sure to alienate them and to foster pride and harshness of spirit in himself.

So he went at eight, the usual hour, and played a rubber for love, as it is called, and talked, and joked, and was pleased and agreeable; but soon one glass was called for after another by his companions; they began to get boisterous, songs were sung which William did not approve, and ought not to have remained to hear, and the whole meeting became most unchristian in its character, and one of those "revellings" of which it is declared that

"they who do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God." William left a few minutes before his companions, and went home disgusted with them, and still more with himself. He did not pray he felt wholly unsettled, and doubted whether he was in a state of mind to address his God. His promises, his resolutions, his solemn act not two Sundays past, all came before him, and he felt struck out, as it were, and no longer worthy or fit to hold the position he had assumed.

Next morning, on his return from the fields, he found one of the village people with his father, asking him to pay for windows which, he said, had been broken the night before, by the club, and by William amongst the rest. This was soon set straight at the Moat House: but not so easily elsewhere. The spite of the Anchor people, and the slanderous tongues of many gossips, had spread it everywhere that William Blake was amongst the rioters, and some were almost ready to swear that they saw him. He now felt the extent of the mischief he had done. It was not himself only whom he had injured, but the whole parish, and through it his kind friend, Mr. Lee. He felt this deeply, and carefully avoided seeing him. The Rector, however, would not suffer this, and sought him out until he found him. When he succeeded, he invited him at once to come down to the Rectory, and, having got him safely into the study, questioned him from first to last upon all the circumstances.

"Then you were not there, you are sure," he said, "when the windows were broken?"

"Yes, quite sure, Sir. I left before any one else, and went home alone."

"Can you prove

this?"

"Only by asking the club."

"It would not do for you to do this, but I will: stay here." Mr. Lee got up, and returned in an hour.

"I have been fortunate enough," said he, "to meet young Hodgson, and he has assured me of what you say so that I now have evidence to go upon. Come down with me into the village, to Mrs. Gardiner's; and mind, you must hear what I say. have brought this on yourself, and if I get you out of some of the blame, you must submit altogether to my guidance."

You

William looked assent as well as he could, and they proceeded at once to Mrs. Gardiner's cottage.

Mr. Lee knocked at the door. "Come in," answered a shrill voice. "It is I," said the Rector. Oh, come in, Sir, very glad to see you, Sir, I assure ye. It always does my heart good to see the like o' your blessed face, that it does."

Stay at the door, William," whispered the Rector, as he entered.

"Come in, Sir, come in, and here's a chair; and I'm truly thankful to Mrs. Lee for that broth, Sir. It made me feel quite comfortable like inside; I haven't had such a dinner I don't know when, Sir."