They then pursued their
homeward ride with such diligence, that, just as the sun was setting, they
came in sight of the humble wooden edifice which was dignified with the
name of Harley College. A golden ray rested upon the spire of the little
chapel, the bell of which sent its tinkling murmur down the valley to
summon the wanderers to evening prayers.
Fanshawe returned to his chamber that night, and lighted his lamp as he
had been wont to do. The books were around him which had hitherto been to
him like those fabled volumes of Magic, from which the reader could not
turn away his eye till death were the consequence of his studies. But
there were unaccustomed thoughts in his bosom now; and to these, leaning
his head on one of the unopened volumes, he resigned himself.
He called up in review the years, that, even at his early age, he had
spent in solitary study, in conversation with the dead, while he had
scorned to mingle with the living world, or to be actuated by any of its
motives. He asked himself to what purpose was all this destructive labor,
and where was the happiness of superior knowledge. He had climbed but a
few steps of a ladder that reached to infinity: he had thrown away his
life in discovering, that, after a thousand such lives, he should still
know comparatively nothing.
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