No whirl and uproar around me, no distracting commerce or calculation, no risk, no change of place, myself devoted to the art I pursue, my business my pleasure.' 'I really was going to say something of the kind, Jack; but you see, you, speaking of yourself, almost necessarily leave out much that I should have put in.

For instance: I should have put in the foreground your being so much respected as Lay Precentor, or Lay Clerk, or whatever you call it, of this Cathedral; your enjoying the reputation of having done such wonders with the choir; your choosing your society, and holding such an independent position in this queer old place; your gift of teaching (why, even Pussy, who don't like being taught, says there never was such a Master as you are!), and your connexion.' 'Yes; I saw what you were tending to.

I hate it.' 'Hate it, Jack ?' (Much bewildered.) 'I hate it.

The cramped monotony of my existence grinds me away by the grain.

How does our service sound to you ?' 'Beautiful! Quite celestial!' 'It often sounds to me quite devilish.