'Special antipathies--sometimes explicable enough--influence me very widely. Now, I by no means hate all orders of uneducated people. A hedger, a fisherman, a country mason,--people of that kind I rather like to talk with. I could live a good deal with them. But the London vulgar I abominate, root and branch. The mere sound of their voices nauseates me; their vilely grotesque accent and pronunciation--bah! I could write a paper to show that they are essentially the basest of English mortals. Unhappily, I know so much about them. If I saw the probability of my dying in a London lodging-house, I would go out into the sweet-scented fields and there kill myself.' Earwaker understood much by this avowal, and wondered whether his friend desired him so to do. 'Well, I can't say that I have any affection for the race,' he replied. 'I certainly believe that, socially and politically, there is less hope of them than of the lower orders in any other part of England.' 'They are damned by the beastly conditions of their life!' cried Godwin, excitedly. 'I don't mean only the slum-denizens. All, all Hammersmith as much as St. George's-in-the-East. I must write about this; I must indeed.' 'Do by all means. Nothing would benefit you more than to get your soul into print.' Peak delayed a little, then: 'Well, I am doing something at last.' And he gave an account of his projected essay. By this time his hands trembled with nervous agitation, and occasionally a dryness of the palate half choked his voice. 'This may do very well,' opined Earwaker. 'I suppose you will try _The Critical_?' 'Yes. But have I any chance? Can a perfectly unknown man hope to get in?' They debated this aspect of the matter. Seeing Peak had laid down his pipe, the journalist offered him tobacco. 'Thanks; I can't smoke just yet. It's my misfortune that I can't talk earnestly without throwing my body into disorder.' 'How stolid I am in comparison!' said Earwaker. 'That book of M'Naughten's,' resumed the other, going back to his subject. 'I suppose the clergy accept it?' 'Largely, I believe.' Peak mused. 'Now, if I were a clergyman'-- But his eye met Earwaker's, and they broke into laughter. 'Why not?' pursued Godwin. 'Did I ever tell you that my people originally wished to make a parson of me? Of course I resisted tooth and nail, but it seems to me now that I was rather foolish in doing so. I wish I _had_ been a parson. In many ways the position would have suited me very well.' 'M--m--m!' 'I am quite serious. Well, if I were so placed, I should preach Church dogma, pure and simple. I would have nothing to do with these reconciliations. I would stand firm as Jeremy Taylor; and in consequence should have an immense and enthusiastic congregation.' 'I daresay.' 'Depend upon it, let the dogmas do what they still can. There's a vast police force in them, at all events. A man may very strongly defend himself for preaching them.'