“My God!” he thought, appalled; “is it possible that I have not got to the bottom of this question?” And, turning his back on the audience, he gazed in a sort of agony at the figure of Nelson towering into the sky above him. He was about to cry out piteously: “Countrymen, I know not what I think. Oh! I am unhappy!” when he inadvertently stepped back over the edge of the plinth, and, still entangled in the flag, was picked up by two policemen and placed in a dazed condition and a deserted spot opposite the National Gallery. It was while he was standing there, encircled by, pigeons and forgotten by his fellow man, that there came to him a spiritual revelation. “Strange!” he thought; “I notice a certain inconsistency in myself, and even in my utterances. I am two men, one of whom is me and one not me; and the one which is not me is the one which causes me to fall into the arms of policemen and other troubles. The one which is me loves these pigeons, and desires to live quietly with my dog, not considering public affairs, which, indeed, seem to be suited to persons of another sort. Whence, then, comes the one which is not me? Can it be that it is derived from the sayings and writings of others, and is but a spurious spirit only meet to be outcast? Do I, to speak in the vernacular, care any buttons whether we stick to Gibraltar or not so long as men do but live in kindness? And if that is so, have I the right to say I do? Ought I not, rather, to be true to my private self and leave the course of public affairs to those who have louder voices and no private selves?” The thought was extremely painful, for it seemed to disclose to him grave inconsistency in the recent management of his life. And, thoroughly mortified, he turned round with a view of entering the National Gallery and soothing his spirit with art, when he was arrested by the placard which covered it announcing which town had taken which sum of bonds. This lighted up such a new vista of public utility that his brain would certainly have caught fire again if one of the policemen who had conducted him across the Square had not touched him on the arm, and said: “How are you now, sir?” “I am pretty well, thank you, policeman,” replied Mr. Lavender, “and sorry that I occasioned so much disturbance.” “Don't mention it, sir,” answered the policeman; “you came a nasty crump.” “Tell me,” said Mr. Lavender, suddenly looking up into his face, “do you consider that a man is justified in living a private life? For, as regards my future, it is largely on your opinion that I shall act.” The policeman, whose solid face showed traces of astonishment, answered slowly: “As a general thing, a man's private life don't bear lookin' into, as you know, sir.” “I have not lived one for some time,” said Mr. Lavender. “Well,” remarked the policeman, “if you take my advice you won't try it a-gain. I should say you 'adn't the constitution.”