of the works of God.' If one may not criticise the
character of a friend whom one esteems and loves, surely, a fortiori,
we ought not to criticise anything in the world at all. The whole of
ethics, the whole of religion, is nothing else than bringing our
critical faculties to bear upon actions and qualities; and it seems to
me that if our critical faculty means anything at all, we are bound to
apply it to all the phenomena we see about us." My companion said
disdainfully that I was indulging in the merest sophistry, and that he
thought that we had better go to bed, which we presently did.

I have, since this conversation, been reflecting about the whole
subject, and I am not inclined to admit that my companion was right. In
the first place, if every one were to follow the principle that one had
no business to criticise one's friends, it would end in being
deplorably dull. Imagine the appalling ponderosity of a conversation in
which one felt bound to praise every one who was mentioned. Think of
the insensate chorus which would arise. "How tall and stately A---- is!
How sturdy and compact B---- is! Then there is dear C----; how wise,
judicious, prudent, and sensible! And the excellent D----, what
candour, what impulsiveness! E----, how worthy, how business-like! Yes,
how true that is! How thankful we should be for the examples of A----,
B----, C----, D----, and E----!" A very little of such conversation
would go a long way. How it would refresh and invigorate the mind! What
a field for humour and subtlety it would open up!

It may be urged that we ought not to regulate our conduct upon the
basis of trying to avoid what is dull; but I am myself of opinion that
dulness is responsible for a large amount of human error and misery.
Readers of The Pilgrim's Progress will no doubt remember the young
woman whose name was Dull, and her choice of companions--Simple, Sloth,
Presumption, Short-mind, Slow-pace, No-heart, Linger-after-lust, and
Sleepy-head. These are the natural associates of Madam Dull. The danger
of dulness, whether natural or acquired, is the danger of complacently
lingering among stupid and conventional ideas, and losing all the
bright interchange of the larger world. The dull people are not, as a
rule, the simple people--they are generally provided with a narrow and
self-sufficient code; they are often entirely self-satisfied, and apt
to disapprove of everything that is lively, romantic, and vigorous.
Simplicity,