"And," returned Erasmus, "I see wherefore thou hast made thy
children at St. Paul's one hundred and fifty and three."

The two friends were passing out. Their latter speeches had scarce
been understood by Ambrose, even if he heard them, so full was he of
conflicting feelings, now ready to cast himself before their feet,
and entreat the Dean to help him to guidance, now withheld by
bashfulness, unwillingness to interrupt, and ingenuous shame at
appearing like an eavesdropper towards such dignified and venerable
personages. Had he obeyed his first impulse, mayhap his career had
been made safer and easier for him, but it was while shyness chained
his limbs and tongue that the Dean and Erasmus quitted the chapel,
and the opportunity of accosting them had slipped away.

Their half comprehended words had however decided him in the part he
should take, making him sure that Colet was not controverting the
formularies of the Church, but drawing out those meanings which in
repetition by rote were well-nigh forgotten. It was as if his
course were made clear to him.

He was determined to take the means which most readily presented
themselves of hearing Colet; and leaving the chapel, he bent his
steps to the Row which his book-loving eye had already marked.
Flanking the great Cathedral on the north, was the row of small open
stalls devoted to the sale of books, or "objects of devotion," all
so arranged that the open portion might be cleared, and the stock-
in-trade locked up if not carried away. Each stall had its own
sign, most of them sacred, such as the Lamb and Flag, the Scallop
Shell, or some patron saint, but classical emblems were oddly
intermixed, such as Minerva's AEgis, Pegasus, and the Lyre of