Gloucester County Democrat., 1907-01-24

LIE
new bitterness. The man who has
friends and no money may find life
difficult, hut the man who has money
and no friend to rejoice in his fortune
or benefit by his generosity is aloot
indeed With the leaven of incredulity
that works in all strong natures, Loder
distrusted the professional beggar;
therefore the charity that bestows eas.
ily and promiscuously was denied him,
and of other channels of generosity be
was too self contained to have learned
the secret.
When depression falls upon a man
of usually even temperament it de-
scends with double weight. The
mercurial nature has hundred coun-
terbalancing devices to rid itself OF
gloom--a sudden lifting Of spirit, a
memory of other moods lived through,
other blacknesses dispersed by time,
but the man of level nature has none
of these. Depression when it comes
is indeed depression; no phase of mind
to be superseded by another phase, but
slackening OF all the chords of life.
1t was through such a depression as
this that he labored during three
weeks. while no summons and no hint
of remembrance came from Chilcote.
His position was peculiarly difficult.
He found no action in the present, and
toward the future he dared not trust
himself to look. He had slipped the
old moorings that familiarity had rem
dered endurable, but, having slipped
them, he had found no substitute.
Such was his case on the last night OF
the three weeks and such his frame Of
mind as he crossed Fleet street from
Clifford's inn to Middle Temple lane.
1t was scarcely Z o'clock, but al
ready the dusk was falling. The great
er press of vehicles had ceased, and
the light of the street lamps cleaned
back from the spaces Of dry and polish
ed roadway, worn smooth as a mirror
by wheels and hoofs Something of the
soliture of night that sits so i'll on the
strenuous city street was making itself
felt though the throngs of people on
the pathway still streamed eastward
and westward, and the taverns made a
busy trade.
Having crossed the roadway, Loder
paused for a moment to survey the
scene. But humanity in the abstract
made small appeal to him, and his
glance wandered from the passersby
to the buildings massed like clouds
against the dark sky. AS his gaze NOV
ed slowly from one to the other a
clock near at hand struck Z, and an in
slant later the chorus was taken up
by dozen clamorous tongues. Usually
he scarcely heard and never needed
these innumerable chimes, but this
evening their effect was strange. Com
ing out of the darkness, they seemed
to possess a personal note, human
declaration. The impression was fam
tastic, but it was strong. With a
species of revolt against life and his
own personality, he turned slowly and
moved forward in the direction Of Lud-
gate hill,
For a space he continued his course,
then, reaching Bouverie street, he turn
ed sharply to the right and made his
way down the slight incline that leads
to the embankment There he paused
and drew long breath. The sense of
space and darkness soothed him. Pull
ing his cap over his eyes, he crossed to
the river and walked on in the direc-
ton of Westminster bridge.
As he walked the great mass of water
by his side looked dense and smooth as
oil with it's sweeping width and network
of reflected light. On it's farther bank
rose the tall buildings, the chimneys,
the fiaring lights that suggest another
and an alien London. Close at hand
stretched the solid stone parapet, CIV
ing assurance of protection.
All these things he saw with his men
tai eyes, but with his mental eyes only,
for his physical gaze was fixed ahead
where the houses of parliament loomed
out of the dusk From the great build
ings his eyes never wavered until the
embankment was traversed and West
minister bridge reached Then he paus-
ed, resting his arms on the coping of
the bridge.
In the tense quietude of the darkness
the place looked vast and inspiring.
The shadowy terrace, the silent river,
the rows of lighted windows, each was
significant. Slowly and comprehensive
" his glance passed from one to the
other. He was no sentimentalist and
no dreamer. His act was simply the
act of man whose interests, robbed
Of their natural outlet, turn instructive
ly toward the forms and symbols Of
the work that is denied them. His
scrutiny was steady even cold. He
was raised to no exaltation by the
vastness Of the building, nor was he
chilled by any dwarfing of himself. He
looked at it long and thoughtfully;
then, again moving slowly, he turned
and retraced his steps.
Ills mind was full as he walked back,
still ,liyious of the stone parapet Of