through what metaphysical process he became a scoundrel, but who is continually forced upon us as a very favourable specimen of mankind;--it was the view of society altogether, painted in colours so hideous that, if true, instead of a revolution, it would draw down a deluge;--it was the hatred, carefully instilled, of the poor against the rich--it was the war breathed between class and class--it was that envy of all superiorities, which loves to show itself by allowing virtue only to a blouse, and asserting that a man must be a rogue if he belong to that rank of society in which, from the very gifts of education, from the necessary associations of circumstances, roguery is the last thing probable or natural. It was all this, and things a thousand times worse, that set my head in a whirl, as hour after hour slipped on, and I still gazed, spell-bound, on these Chimeras and Typhons--these symbols of the Destroying Principle. "Poor Vivian!" said I, as I rose at last, "if thou readest these books with pleasure, or from habit, no wonder that thou seemest to me so obtuse about right and wrong, and to have a great cavity where thy brain should have the bump of 'conscientiousness' in full salience!" Nevertheless, to do those demoniacs justice, I had got through time imperceptibly by their pestilent help; and I was startled to see, by my watch, how late it was. I had just resolved to leave a line, fixing an appointment for the morrow, and so depart, when I heard Vivian's knock--a knock that had great character in it--haughty, impatient, irregular; not a neat, symmetrical, harmonious, unpretending knock, but a knock that seemed to set the whole house and street at defiance: it was a knock bullying--a knock ostentatious--a knock irritating and offensive--"impiger" and "iracundus." But the step that came up the stairs did not suit the knock: it was a step light, yet firm--slow, yet elastic. The maid-servant who had opened the door had, no doubt, informed Vivian of my visit, for he did not seem surprised to see me; but he cast that hurried, suspicious look round the room which a man is apt to cast when he has left his papers about, and finds some idler, on whose trustworthiness he by no means depends, seated in the midst of the unguarded secrets. The look was not flattering; but my conscience was so unreproachful that I laid all the blame upon the general suspiciousness of Vivian's character. "Three hours, at least, have I been here!" said I, maliciously. "Three hours!"--again the look. "And this is the worst secret I have discovered,"--and I pointed to those literary Manicheans. "Oh!" said he carelessly, "French novels!--I don't wonder you stayed so long. I can't read your English novels--flat and insipid: there are truth and life here." "Truth and life!" cried I, every hair on my head erect with astonishment--"then hurrah for falsehood and death!" "They don't please you; no accounting for tastes."