wonderful progress in the
understanding of the people's character. As he had formerly "sipped the
intellectual breath of beauty" from the productions of inanimate
nature, leaving to others the task of turning into use her treasures,
so now he recognised the presence of a higher principle in every living
intelligence. Every person who crossed his path was a representative of
some portion or place of the people's character. Instead of looking
down upon others from the eminence of his own intellectuality, he
forgot himself, and unconsciously looked up to the intelligence he
detected in every other. The others were raised in his estimation,
because he thought only of that which ennobled them: himself had sunk,
because he was only reminded of himself by those petty occurrences of
every-day life which brought out the lesser traits in his own nature.

He was a man who understood the inmost thoughts and feelings of all
around him. He boldly followed up his resolve to give them a taste of
the pleasures of the mind: he was sufficiently matured himself to
penetrate the rough bark which concealed the core of their minds and
hearts.

In the evening he would read aloud the papers at the inn. He had many
explanations to give, and many false impressions to remove: for the
College Chap, who had previously acted as oracle, had taken pleasure in
"stuffing up the natives." A little circle habitually gathered round
him, while others played cards at the table: even these, however, would
occasionally listen to what he was saying, by which many a trick was
lost.

Little by little the teacher obtained their confidence, and they spoke
their minds more freely. With all the excellence of his intention, he
still found it difficult to translate himself entirely into their ways
of thinking. It is an easy thing to say, "I love the people!" but
to be prepared at all times to receive all sorts of crudities with
respect, without taking offence at habits and customs often repulsive
and obdurate,--to follow the discursive ones through a thousand
pointless digressions,--to sympathize with the impetuous in a
jargon of incoherent impulses and sentiments,--requires a power of
self-abnegation, a degree of control over one's own individuality, with
which but very few are favored. Thanks to his clear understanding of
the task, our friend was one of the number.

One evening Mat began, "Mr. Teacher, I'm going to ask a stupid
question; but why is that paper ca