Weakness and hunger, joined to the roar and bustle of London, had made him excited, nervous, unable to control his thoughts, or fight against a stupifying headache; and his self-weakened will punished him, by yielding him up an easy prey to his own fancies.
'Ay,' he thought, 'if he were ruined, after all, it would be well for God's cause.

The Lavingtons, at least, would find no temptation in his wealth: and Argemone--she is too proud, too luxurious, to marry a beggar.

She might embrace a holy poverty for the sake of her own soul; but for the gratification of an earthly passion, never! Base and carnal delights would never tempt her so far.' Alas, poor pedant! Among all that thy books taught thee, they did not open to thee much of the depths of that human heart which thy dogmas taught thee to despise as diabolic.
Again the little fiend whispered,-- 'Unless he comes up to-night, he is a ruined man.' 'And what if he is ?' thought the vicar.

'Riches are a curse; and poverty a blessing.

Is it not his wealth which is ruining his soul?
Idleness and fulness of bread have made him what he is--a luxurious and self-willed dreamer, battening on his own fancies.