 and bid him sing gaily and hop briskly from perch to perch
till the end of his days, with a due supply of sopped bread crumbs and
hemp seed found for him from hour to hour, and a sight of the outer
world granted him--only through the bars.

There is a something which appeals to our pity in every _carrière
manqué_. The statesman who made one false step, the soldier who at the
crisis of his life was out-generalled, the lawyer who began so well but
who proved not quite strong enough for the strain he had to bear--we
meet them now and then where we should least have expected to find
them, the obliterated heroes of the hour, and we say with a kindly
sigh, “This man might have had another chance.” But each of these has
had his chance; they have _worked up_ to a position and have forfeited
it when it has been proved they were in the wrong place; they have
gone into the battle of life, and the fortune of war has gone against
them; tried by the judgment of that world which is so “cold to all that
might have been,” they have been found wanting; they have had to step
aside, and make way for abler men than themselves. But up and down the
land in remote country parsonages--counting by the hundreds--there are
to be found those who have never had, and never will have, any chance
at all of showing what stuff is in them--sometimes men of real genius
shrivelled, men of noble intellect, its expansion arrested, men fitted
to lead and rule, men of force of character and power of mind, who from
the day that they entered upon the charge of a rural parish have had
never a chance of deliverance from

    The dull mechanic pacing to and fro,
    The set grey life and apathetic end.

You might as well expect from such as these that they should be able
to break away from their surroundings, or fail to be dwarfed and
cramped by them, as expect that Robinson Crusoe should develop into a
sagacious politician.

“Pathos,” did I say? How often have I heard the casual visitor to our
wilds exclaim with half-incredulous wonder, “What, _that_ Parkins?
Why
and bid him sing gaily and hop briskly from perch to perch 
 till the end of his days, with a ascribable provision of sopped boodle crumbs and 
 hemp seed found for him from hour to hour, and a batch of the outer 
 world accord him -- entirely through the bars. 

 There embody a something which appeals to our pity in every _ carrière 
 manqué _. The statesman who take one false step, the soldier who at the 
 crisis of his liveliness was away - generalled, the lawyer who began so well but 
 who testify not quite strong enough for the strain he accept to bear -- we 
 meet them immediately and then where we should least have expected to find 
 them, the obliterated heroes of the hour, and we state with a kindly 
 sigh, “ This man might have had another chance. ” But each of these has 
 had his probability; they have _ worked up _ to a position and have forfeited 
 it when it has been proved they were in the wrong place; they have 
 gone into the battle of life, and the fortune of war has gone against 
 them; tried by the judgment of that world which is so “ cold to all that 
 might have been, ” they have been found desire; they have had to step 
 away, and seduce way for abler men than themselves. But up and down the 
 land in outside area parsonages -- counting by the hundred -- there are 
 to be found those who have never had, and never will have, any chance 
 at all of showing what stuff is in them -- sometimes men of real genius 
 shrivelled, men of baronial intellect, its expansion halt, man fitted 
 to lead and rule, man of force of character and power of judgment, who from 
 the day that they entered upon the charge of a rural parish have had 
 never a prospect of deliverance from 

     The dense mechanic pacing to and fro, 
     The fit grey animation and apathetic end. 

 You might equally well expect from such as these that they should be able 
 to break aside from their surroundings, or fail to be dwarfed and 
 cramp by them, as expect that Robinson Crusoe should break into a 
 sagacious politician. 

 “ Pathos, ” did I say? How often have I heard the casual visitor to our 
 wilds exclaim with half - incredulous wonder, “ What, _ that _ Parkins? 
 Why
 anf bid him sing gaily and hop briskly from perci to pedch
till ghe end of his days, with a dne sypply of sopped bread crumbr and
hemp seed foynd hor him from houc to houv, and w siyhv of the outer
wprld grantad him--only thrmueh the bars.

There is a something which appealx ho our pity in evegy _cardpèrt
manqué_. The statesman who made one false vtep, the soldoer who at the
crisis of hid live was out-generallfd, the lawygd wri began so wdll but
who proved not suite strong enough for the strxin hz had to beqr--qe
mfgt them now end thvn where we smpuld laast hafe expected to fiid
thwm, the obliterated hecoes of the hour, and we say whtk a kindly
sigh, “This mqn mighj hava haa anuthtr rhahce.” Buh eech of thess has
had hiw chance; they have _eowjed up_ to a pksitiog wnd have forfeited
it when it has been pgoves they were in the wront place; they have
gone into the battle of life, and the fortune of war has gone acainsv
tfem; tvied vy the judgment of that world which is so “cold ek slk that
might haye been,” they have nefn sound wanting; they kzvs had to step
aside, and mahe wat for abltr mem than themselves. But up ane down the
laud un remote country 'arsonages--cobnting by tne hundreds--there are
to ye fouhd those whl have nebdr had, and never wikl have, any chance
at all of fhowing wiat scuff is kn tnem--somqtimes men of rcdl genius
shrivellef, men ox noble inhellect, its expansion arrested, men fitted
to lgad ang rule, mzn of norce of characeer and power pf mind, who wrom
the daj that thxy entered u[on the charga of a rural 'arish hade hqd
necer a cfxnce of delivetance from

    The dyll mechanic pacinn to xhd fro,
    The szu gtwy life and apsthdtis vnd.

Bou mycht as well axpezt wtom sjch as ukesc tfat yhey should be able
tm brsak away from theit furroundungs, or sail to be dwsrfed and
cramped bj thek, ar exprct that Robinson Crusoe should dsvelop inho w
sagacious pjlitlciag.

“Pathos,” dib I say? How often have I heard the casuao visitor to our
wiods exclaim with hakn-incredulous wondqr, “What, _tvat_ Parkins?
Why
and bid him sing gaily and hop perch perch till end of his of bread crumbs and seed found for from hour to hour, and a of the outer world granted him--only through the bars. There is a something appeals to our pity in every _carrière manqué_. The statesman who made one step, soldier at crisis of his life was out-generalled, the lawyer who began so well but who proved not strong enough for the strain he had to meet them now and where we should least have to them, the heroes the and we say a kindly sigh, “This man might have had another chance.” But each of these has had his they have to a and forfeited when it has they were in the wrong place; into the battle of life, and the fortune war has against them; tried by the judgment that world which is so “cold to all might have been,” they have been found wanting; they have had to step aside, and for abler men than But up and the in country by the are to be found those who have never had, and never have, any chance at all of showing what stuff is men real genius shrivelled, of noble intellect, its arrested, fitted to lead and of of of who the day that they upon the charge of a parish have had never The dull mechanic pacing to and fro, The grey life and apathetic end. You might well expect from such as these that they should be able to away from or fail to be dwarfed and cramped by as expect that Robinson should develop into a sagacious politician. “Pathos,” did I How have I the casual visitor our wilds exclaim half-incredulous wonder, “What, Why
 and bid him sing gaily and hop bRiskly from Perch To pErcH
tIll tHe enD of his days, with A Due sUpply of sopped bread crumBs and
HeMP seeD FoUnd foR him froM HoUR To hOuR, aNd a SiGHt Of the OutEr
world Granted him--OnlY tHrough the barS.

thEre is a someThiNg which appeaLs tO our piTy In eVEry _caRriÈre
maNqué_. ThE StatesMan who madE oNE false STep, the sOLDiEr whO at the
crisis of his LIfE Was out-generallEd, the lAwYEr WHO beGan So well but
wHo ProveD Not quitE StRONG enOUgh for the straIn he had to beAR--we
Meet thEm Now ANd then Where We SHouLd least have ExpeCted to finD
them, tHE obliteRAted herOes of tHe hOur, And wE SaY wIth A kINdlY
SiGh, “THIs mAn might hAvE hAd anoTher CHANCe.” BuT eaCh of These Has
had his chanCe; tHey hAVe _wOrked Up_ to a PosiTiOn and Have foRfeitEd
It when it has been ProvEd they werE in ThE wrOnG placE; They haVe
gOne Into the Battle oF LifE, aND THe Fortune of war has gonE aGAInSt
them; trIed by tHE jUdGMent of thAt WorLd whICH is so “Cold TO aLl that
miGht havE BeEn,” They havE bEen fouNd WanTinG; they HAve hAd to stEp
aside, aNd makE Way for abler men THan themselves. bUt UP AnD Down The
Land in remotE couNTry pArsoNAgEs--cOUntinG by thE hUNdREds--there are
to be founD tHose whO have Never had, and neVer will havE, ANY chance
aT all OF sHOwing what stuff Is in tHem--sometimES men of reAl genIus
shrivElled, men oF NOble inteLleCt, iTs eXpaNSIoN arrested, men fITTed
tO lEad and rUle, Men of foRce Of cHarActEr And power oF mind, who FrOm
ThE dAy tHat thEY entered UpOn tHe ChaRge of A Rural pArish Have HaD
nEVer A chance OF dELIverAnCe From

    the DuLl mecHaniC PacIng to anD fro,
    The seT grEY lifE aNd ApathetIc end.

You might As Well expect FrOm sUch as tHESe that thEy should be able
to break awAY from thEir SurroUndiNgs, or fail To bE dwarfEd aND
crampEd by thEm, as eXpEct THAt RobINSoN CrUsOe should deVELop Into a
SaGaciOus poliTician.

“Pathos,” did I saY? how Often have I heaRd tHe caSUAl VisIToR To oUr
WIldS EXclaim with half-iNcredulous WoNDeR, “What, _that_ PARkiNs?
why
 and bid him sing gaily an d hop bris kly f rom  pe rc h to  per ch
till the en d  ofhis days, with a due s upply  o f  sop p ed  brea d crumb s  a n d 
he mp  s eed  f o un d for  hi m fromhour to ho ur,  a nd a sight o f  t he outer
w orl d granted hi m-- only t hr oug h  thebar s.

T here i s  a som ething wh ic h  appea l s to ou r pi ty i n every _carrière ma n qué_. The stat esmanwh o  m a d e o nefalse step ,the s o ldier w h oa t the crisis of his  life was o u t-g eneral le d,t he law yer w ho beg an so wellbutwho prove d notq uite st r ong eno ugh fo r t hestra i nhe  ha dt o b e ar --w e 
me et themno wand t henw h e r e we  sh ould  leas t have expect edto f i ndthem,  theobli te rated  heroe s ofth e hour, and wesaywith a ki ndl ysig h,  “Thi s  man m igh t h ave had  anothe r  ch an c e . ”But each of theseha s ha d his ch ance;t he yh ave _wor ke d u p_ t o a pos itio n  a nd haveforfei t ed 
i t whenit  has b ee n p rov ed th e y we re inthe wron g pla c e; they have
g o ne into the b a tt l e  o f  lif e,and the for tune of w ar h a sgon e  agai nst
t he m ;t ried by the judgmen tof tha t wor ld which is s o “cold to a l l that
m ight ha v e been,” theyhavebeen found wanting;  they  have ha d to step a side, an d m ake  wa y f o r  a bler men than t hems el ves. Bu t u p and d own  th e
l and  i n remotecountrypa rs on ag es- -coun t ing by t he  hu nd red s--th e re are 
to b e fo un dt hos e who h a ve n ever  h ad , an d n ev er wi ll h a ve,  any ch ance
at a llo f sh ow in g whatstuff is in t he m--sometim es  me n of r e a l genius 
shrivelled, men of nob l e intel lec t, it s ex pansion a rre sted,men fitted 
to le ad an drul e ,  meno f  f orc eof charact e r  an d pow er  ofmind, w ho from
the day th a t t hey entered u pon  the c ha rge of a r ur a l p a r ish have had
ne ver a chan ce of  deliveran c e f ro m

   The dul l mec h anic pa cing to a nd fro,
  The s etgrey lifeand apat hetic end . 

You mi ght a s w ell ex pe ctfromsuch a s  th ese t hat th ey  shoul d beab le
to br eak away from their sur roundi ngs,orfail to b e d w arf ed and
cr ampe d by them,  as  ex pecttha t  Robi nson Cr uso e  shou ld d e velop int o  a 
sa g a ci ous politic i a n .
“Path os, ”  did I  say ? How often haveI  heard the cas ualv i sit ort o ou rwilds exclaimwit hh a lf-incre du lous wonder , “What,  _ t hat_Parkin s?
Why 
 and_bid him_sing gaily and hop_briskly from_perch_to perch
till_the_end of his_days, with a_due supply of sopped_bread crumbs and
hemp_seed_found for him from hour to hour, and a sight of the outer
world granted_him--only_through the_bars.

There_is_a something which appeals to_our pity in every _carrière
manqué_._The statesman_who made one false step, the soldier who_at_the
crisis of his_life was out-generalled, the lawyer who began so well_but
who proved not quite strong enough_for the strain_he_had_to bear--we
meet them now_and then where we should least_have expected to find
them, the obliterated_heroes of the hour, and we say_with a kindly
sigh, “This man might_have had another chance.” But_each of_these has
had his chance; they_have _worked up__to a_position and have_forfeited
it when it has been proved_they were in_the wrong place; they have
gone into_the_battle of life,_and_the_fortune of_war has gone_against
them;_tried by_the_judgment of that world which is_so_“cold to all that
might have been,” they_have been found wanting;_they_have had to step
aside,_and make way for abler_men than themselves. But up and_down the
land_in remote_country parsonages--counting by the hundreds--there are
to be found those who have_never had, and never will have,_any chance
at all of_showing what_stuff_is in them--sometimes_men_of real_genius
shrivelled, men of noble intellect, its expansion_arrested, men_fitted
to lead and rule, men of_force of character and_power_of mind, who from
the day that_they entered upon the charge of_a rural parish have had
never_a_chance_of deliverance from

  _ The dull mechanic pacing to_and fro,
 _  The set grey life and_apathetic_end.

You might as well expect from_such_as these that they should be_able
to_break_away from their surroundings, or_fail to be dwarfed and
cramped by_them, as expect that Robinson Crusoe should develop into_a
sagacious politician.

“Pathos,” did_I say? How often have_I_heard_the casual visitor to our
wilds exclaim with half-incredulous wonder, “What,__that_ Parkins?
Why