regularly　starting　in　practice　on　the　first　day　of　the
  following　January。
  It　is　an　old　story；　and　perhaps　only　deserves　the　light　tone
  in　which　the　soaring　of　a　young　man　into　the　empyrean；　and　his
  descent　again；　is　always　narrated。　　But　as　has　often　been
  said；　the　light　and　the　truth　may　be　on　the　side　of　the
  dreamer：　　a　far　wider　view　than　the　wise　ones　have　may　be　his
  at　that　recalcitrant　time；　and　his　reduction　to　common　measure
  be　nothing　less　than　a　tragic　event。　　The　operation　called
  lunging；　in　which　a　haltered　colt　is　made　to　trot　round　and
  round　a　horsebreaker　who　holds　the　rope；　till　the　beholder
  grows　dizzy　in　looking　at　them；　is　a　very　unhappy　one　for　the
  animal　concerned。　　During　its　progress　the　colt　springs
  upward；　across　the　circle；　stops；　flies　over　the　turf　with　the
  velocity　of　a　bird；　and　indulges　in　all　sorts　of　graceful
  antics；　but　he　always　ends　in　one　waythanks　to　the　knotted
  whipcordin　a　level　trot　round　the　lunger　with　the　regularity
  of　a　horizontal　wheel；　and　in　the　loss　for　ever　to　his
  character　of　the　bold　contours　which　the　fine　hand　of　Nature
  gave　it。　　Yet　the　process　is　considered　to　be　the　making　of
  him。
  Whether　Somerset　became　permanently　made　under　the　action　of
  the　inevitable　lunge；　or　whether　he　lapsed　into　mere　dabbling
  with　the　artistic　side　of　his　profession　only；　it　would　be
  premature　to　say；　but　at　any　rate　it　was　his　contrite　return
  to　architecture　as　a　calling　that　sent　him　on　the　sketching
  excursion　under　notice。　　Feeling　that　something　still　was
  wanting　to　round　off　his　knowledge　before　he　could　take　his
  professional　line　with　confidence；　he　was　led　to　remember　that
  his　own　native　Gothic　was　the　one　form　of　design　that　he　had
  totally　neglected　from　the　beginning；　through　its　having
  greeted　him　with　wearisome　iteration　at　the　opening　of　his
  career。　　Now　it　had　again　returned　to　silence；　indeedsuch　is
  the　surprising　instability　of　art　'principles'　as　they　are
  facetiously　calledit　was　just　as　likely　as　not　to　sink　into
  the　neglect　and　oblivion　which　had　been　its　lot　in　Georgian
  times。　　This　accident　of　being　out　of　vogue　lent　English
  Gothic　an　additional　charm　to　one　of　his　proclivities；　and
  away　he　went　to　make　it　the　business　of　a　summer　circuit　in
  the　west。
  The　quiet　time　of　evening；　the　secluded　neighbourhood；　the
  unusually　gorgeous　liveries　of　the　clouds　packed　in　a　pile
  over　that　quarter　of　the　heavens　in　which　the　sun　had
  disappeared；　were　such　as　to　make　a　traveller　loiter　on　his
  walk。　　Coming　to　a　stile；　Somerset　mounted　himself　on　the　top
  bar；　to　imbibe　the　spirit　of　the　scene　and　hour。　　The　evening
  was　so　still　that　every　trifling　sound　could　be　heard　for
  miles。　　There　was　the　rattle　of　a　returning　waggon；　mixed　with
  the　smacks　of　the　waggoner's　whip：　　the　team　must　have　been　at
  least　three　miles　off。　　From　far　over　the　hill　came　the　faint
  periodic　yell　of　kennelled　hounds；　while　from　the　nearest
  village　resounded　the　voices　of　boys　at　play　in　the　twilight。
  Then　a　powerful　clock　struck　the　hour；　it　was　not　from　the
  direction　of　the　church；　but　rather　from　the　wood　behind　him；
  and　he　thought　it　must　be　the　clock　of　some　mansion　that　way。
  But　the　mind　of　man　cannot　always　be　forced　to　take　up
  subjects　by　the　pressure　of　their　material　presence；　and
  Somerset's　thoughts　were　often；　to　his　great　loss；　apt　to　be
  even　more　than　common　truants　from　the　tones　and　images　that
  met　his　outer　senses　on　walks　and　rides。　　He　would　sometimes
  go　quietly　through　the　queerest；　gayest；　most　extraordinary
  town　in　Europe；　and　let　it　alone；　provided　it　did　not　meddle
  with　him　by　its　beggars；　beauties；　innkeepers；　police；
  coachmen；　mongrels；　bad　smells；　and　such　like　obstructions。
  This　feat　of　questionable　utility　he　began　performing　now。
  Sitting　on　the　three…inch　ash　rail　that　had　been　peeled　and
  polished　like　glass　by　the　rubbings　of　all　the　small…clothes
  in　the　parish；　he　forgot　the　time；　the　place；　forgot　that　it
  was　Augustin　short；　everything　of　the　present　altogether。
  His　mind　flew　back　to　his　past　life；　and　deplored　the　waste　of
  time　that　had　resulted　from　his　not　having　been　able　to　make
  up　his　mind　which　of　the　many　fashions　of　art　that　were　coming
  and　going　in　kaleidoscopic　change　was　the　true　point　of
  departure　from　himself。　　He　had　suffered　from　the　modern
  malady　of　unlimited　appreciativeness　as　much　as　any　living　man
  of　his　own　age。　　Dozens　of　his　fellows　in　years　and
  experience；　who　had　never　thought　specially　of　the　matter；　but
  had　blunderingly　applied　themselves　to　whatever　form　of　art
  confronted　them　at　the　moment　of　their　making　a　move；　were　by
  this　time　acquiring　renown　as　new　lights；　while　he　was　still
  unknown。　　He　wished　that　some　accident　could　have　hemmed　in
  his　eyes　between　inexorable　blinkers；　and　sped　him　on　in　a
  channel　ever　so　worn。
  Thus　balanced　between　believing　and　not　believing　in　his　own
  future；　he　was　recalled　to　the　scene　without　by　hearing　the
  notes　of　a　familiar　hymn；　rising　in　subdued　harmonies　from　a
  valley　below。　　He　listened　more　heedfully。　　It　was　his　old
  friend　the　'New　Sabbath；'　which　he　had　never　once　heard　since
  the　lisping　days　of　childhood；　and　whose　existence；　much　as　it
  had　then　been　to　him；　he　had　till　this　moment　quite　forgotten。
  Where　the　'New　Sabbath'　had　kept　itself　all　these　yearswhy
  that　sound　and　hearty　melody　had　disappeared　from　all　the
  cathedrals；　parish　churches；　minsters　and　chapels…of…ease　that
  he　had　been　acquainted　with　during　his　apprenticeship　to　life；
  and　until　his　ways　had　become　irregular　and　uncongregational
  he　could　not；　at　first；　say。　　But　then　he　recollected　that　the
  tune　appertained　to　the　old　west…gallery　period　of　church…
  music；　anterior　to　the　great　choral　reformation　and　the　rule
  of　Monkthat　old　time　when　the　repetition　of　a　word；　or　half…
  line　of　a　verse；　was　not　considered　a　disgrace　to　an
  ecclesiastical　choir。
  Willing　to　be　interested　in　anything　which　would　keep　him　out…
  of…doors；　Somerset　dismounted　from　the　stile　and　descended　the
  hill　before　him；　to　learn　whence　the　singing　proceeded。
  II。
  He　found　that　it　had　its　origin　in　a　building　standing　alone
  in　a　field；　and　though　the　evening　was　not　yet　dark　without；
  lights　shone　from　the　windows。　　In　a　few　moments　Somerset
  stood　before　the　edifice。　　Being　just　then　en　rapport　with
  ecclesiasticism　by　reason　of　his　recent　occupation；　he　could
  not　help　murmuring；　'Shade　of　Pugin；　what　a　monstrosity！'
  Perhaps　this　exclamation　（rather　out　of　date　since　the
  discovery　that　Pugin　himself　often　nodded　amazingly）　would　not
  have　been　indulged　in　by　Somerset　but　for　his　new
  architectural　resolves；　which　caused　professional　opinions　to
  advance　themselves　officiously　to　his　lips　whenever　occasion
  offered。　　The　building　was；　in　short；　a　recently…erected
  chapel　of　red　brick；　with　pseudo…classic　ornamentation；　and
  the　white　regular　joints　of　mortar　could　be　seen　streaking　its
  surface　in　geometrical　oppressiveness　from　top　to　bottom。　　The
  roof　was　of　blue　slate；　clean　as　a　table；　and　unbroken　from
  gable　to　gable；　the　windows　were　glazed　with　sheets　of　plate
  glass；　a　temporary　iron　stovepipe　passing　out　near　one　of
  these；　and　running　up　to　the　height　of　the　ridge；　where　it　was
  finished　by　a　covering　like　a　parachute。　　Walking　round　to　the
  end；　he　perceived　an　oblong　white　stone　let　into　the　wall　just
  above　the　plinth；　on　which　was　inscribed　in　deep　letters：
  Erected　187…；
  AT　THE　SOLE　EXPENSE　OF
  JOHN　POWER；　ESQ。；　M。P。
  The　'New　Sabbath'　still　proceeded　line　by　line；　with　all　the
  emotional　swells　and　cadences　that　had　of　old　characterized
  the　tune：　　and　the　body　of　vocal　harmony　that　it　evoked
  implied　a　large　congregation　within；　to　whom　it　was　plainly　as
  familiar　as　it　had　been　to　church…goers　of　a　past　generation。
  With　a　whimsical　sense　of　regret　at　the　secession　of　his　once
  favourite　air　Somerset　moved　away；　and　would　have　quite
  withdrawn　from　the　field　had　he　not　at　that　moment　observed
  two　young　men　with　pitchers　of　water　coming　up　from　a　stream
  hard　by；　and　hastening　with　their　burdens　into　the　chapel
  vestry　by　a　side　door。　　Almost　as　soon　as　they　had　entered
  they　emerged　again　with　empty　pitchers；　and　proceeded　to　the
  stream　to　fill　them　as　before；　an　operation　which　they
  repeated　several　times。　　Somerset　went　forward　to　the　stream；
  and　waited　till　the　young　men　came　out　again。
  'You　are　carrying　in　a　great　deal　of　water；'　he　said；　as　each
  dipped　his　pitcher。
  One　of　the　young　men　modestly　replied；　'Yes：　　we　filled　the
  cistern　this　morning；　but　it　leaks；　and　requires　a　few
  pitcherfuls　more。'
  'Why　do　you　do　it？'
  'There　is　to　be　a　baptism；　sir。'
  Somerset　was　not　sufficiently　interested　to　develop　a　further
  conversation；　and　observing　them　in　silence　till　they　had
  again　vanished　into　the　building；　he　went　on　his　way。
  Reaching　the　brow　of　the　hill　he　stopped　and　looked　back。　　The
  chapel　was　still　in　view；　and　the　shades　of　night　having
  deepened；　the　lights　shone　from　the　windows　yet　more　brightly
  than　before。　　A　few　steps　further　would　hide　them　and　the
  edifice；　and　all　that　belonged　to　it　from　his　sight；　possibly
  for　ever。　　There　was　something　in　the　thought　which　led　him