larged, instead of
being narrowed, by one chief pursuit. Their special art gave them
sympathy with all others, as the high cultivation of one virtue is said
to bring all the rest in its train. But this man talked the shibboleth
of his craft over one's head to other members of his clique with a
defiance of good manners arising more from conceit than from ignorance
of the ways of society; and with a transparent intention of being
overheard and admired which reminded me of the little self-conscious
conceits of children before visitors. He was one of a large family with
the same peculiarities, joined to a devout admiration of each other.
Indeed, they combined the artistic clique and the family clique in equal
proportions. From the conversation at their table you would have
imagined that there was but one standard of good for poor humanity, that
of one 'school' of one art, and absolutely no one who quite came up to
it but the brothers, sisters, parents, cousins, or connections by
marriage of your host. Now, I honestly assure you that the only other
man really like this one that I ever met, was what is called a
'self-made' man in a commercial clique. Money was _his_ standard, and
he seemed to be as completely unembarrassed as my artist friend by the
weight of any other ideas than his own, or by any feeling short of utter
satisfaction with himself. Their contempt for the conventionalities of
society was about equal. My artist friend had passed a sweeping
criticism for my benefit now and then (there could be no conversation
where no second opinion was allowed), and it was with perhaps a shade
less of condescension--a shade more of friendliness--that my commercial
friend once stopped some remarks of mine with the knowing observation,
'Look here, ma'am. Whenever I hear this, that, and the other bragged
about a party, what I always say is this, I don't want you to tell me
what he _his_, but what he _'as_.'"

Eleanor and I laughed merrily at the anecdote, even if we were not quite
converted to Mrs. Arkwright's views. And I must in justice add that
every visit which has taken us from home--every fresh experience which
has enlarged our knowledge of the world--has confirmed the truth of her
sage and practical advice.

If at home we have still inclined to feel it almost a duty to be proud
of intellectual tastes, quite a duty to be proud of orthodox opinions,
and, at the worst, a very amiable weakness indeed to think that there
are no