There was silence. Christian beat the ground with his stick.

'Your state of mind, then,' he said at length, 'is more like my own
than I imagined. I, too, have wavered for a long time between
literature and science, and now at last I have quite decided--
quite--that scientific study is the only safe line for me. The
fact is, a man must concentrate himself. Not only for the sake of
practical success, but--well, for his own sake.'

He spoke lazily, dreamily, propped upon his elbow, seeming to watch
the sheep which panted at a few yards from him.

'I have no right,' he pursued, with a shadow of kindly anxiety on
his features, 'to offer you advice, but--well, if you will let me
insist on what I have learned from my own experience. There's
nothing like having a special line of work and sticking to it
vigorously. I, unfortunately, shall never do anything of any
account,--but I know so well the conflict between diverging
tastes. It has played the deuce with me, in all sorts of ways. At
Zurich I utterly wasted my time, and I've done no better since I
came back to England. Don't think me presumptuous. I only mean--
well, it is so important to--to go ahead in one line.'

His air of laughing apology was very pleasant. Godwin felt his heart
open to the kind fellow.

'No one needs the advice more than I,' he replied. 'I am going back
to the line I took naturally when I first began to study at all.'

'But why leave Whitelaw?' asked Christian, gently.