lobby, so that at least one man may be wiser and humbler by the sight of
Human Error every time he walks by so stupendous a monument of it."

Verily, I know not how my father could bear to look at those dumb
fragments of himself,--strata of the Caxtonian conformation lying layer
upon layer, as if packed up and disposed for the inquisitive genius of
some moral Murchison or Mantell. But for my part, I never glanced at
their repose in the dark lobby without thinking, "Courage, Pisistratus!
courage! There's something worth living for; work hard, grow rich, and
the Great Book shall come out at last!"

Meanwhile, I wandered over the country and made acquaintance with the
farmers and with Trevanion's steward,--an able man and a great
agriculturist,--and I learned from them a better notion of the nature of
my uncle's domains. Those domains covered an immense acreage, which,
save a small farm, was of no value at present. But land of the same
sort had been lately redeemed by a simple kind of draining, now well
known in Cumberland; and, with capital, Roland's barren moors might
become a noble property. But capital, where was that to come from?
Nature gives us all, except the means to turn her into marketable
account. As old Plautus saith so wittily, "Day, night, water, sun, and
moon, are to be had gratis; for everything else--down with your dust!"




CHAPTER II.


Nothing has been heard of Uncle Jack. Before we left the brick house