small sparkles of snow, or rather ice, which as we swept rapidly
onwards, and the darkness deepened, struck faster and faster against
the weather-windows. For we, that is, myself and a fellow-passenger,
of whom I knew nothing yet but the waistcoat and neckcloth, having
caught a glimpse of them as he searched for an obstinate
railway-ticket, were in a railway-carriage, darting along, at an all
but frightful rate, northwards from London.

Being, the sole occupants of the carriage, we had made the most of it,
like Englishmen, by taking seats diagonally opposite to each other,
laying our heads in the corners, and trying to go to sleep. But for me
it was of no use to try any longer. Not that I had anything particular
on my mind or spirits; but a man cannot always go to sleep at spare
moments. If anyone can, let him consider it a great gift, and make
good use of it accordingly; that is, by going to sleep on every such
opportunity.

As I, however, could not sleep, much as I should have enjoyed it, I
proceeded to occupy my very spare time with building, up what I may
call a conjectural mould, into which the face, dress, carriage, &c.,
of my companion would fit. I had already discovered that he was a
clergyman; but this added to my difficulties in constructing the said
mould. For, theoretically, I had a great dislike to clergymen; having,
hitherto, always found that the _clergy_ absorbed the _man_; and that
the _cloth_, as they called it even themselves, would be no bad
epithet for the individual, as well as the class. For all clergymen
whom I had yet met, regarded mankind and their interests solely from
the clerical point of view, seeming far more desirous that a man
should be a good church man, as they called it, than that he should
love God. Hence, there was always an indescribable and, to me,