eccentricity of any kind. People
ought to fall in simply and quietly with ordinary modes of life, dress,
and behaviour; it saves time and trouble; it sets the mind free. But
what I rather mean is that, when the ordinary usages of life have been
complied with, all sensible people ought to have a line of their own
about occupation, amusements, friends, and not run to and fro like
sheep just where the social current sets. What I mean is best explained
by a couple of instances. I met at dinner last night our old
acquaintance, Foster, who was at school with us. He was in my house; I
don't think you ever knew much of him. He was a pleasant, good-humoured
boy enough; but his whole mind was set on discovering the exact code of
social school life. He wanted to play the right games, to wear the
right clothes, to know the right people. He liked being what he called
"in the swim." He never made friends with an obscure or unfashionable
boy. He was quite pleasant to his associates when he was himself
obscure; but he waited quietly for his opportunity to recommend himself
to prominent boys, and, when the time came, he gently threw over all
his old companions and struck out into more distinguished regions. He
was never disagreeable or conceited; he merely dropped his humble
friends until they too were approved as worthy of greater distinction,
and then he took them up again. He succeeded in his ambitions, as most
cool and clear-headed persons do. He became what would be called very
popular; he gave himself no airs; he was always good company; he was
never satirical or critical. The same thing has gone on ever since. He
married a nice wife; he secured a good official position. Last night,
as I say, I met him here. He came into the room with the same old
pleasant smile, beautifully dressed, soberly appointed. His look and
gestures were perfectly natural and appropriate. He has never made any
attempt to see me or keep up old acquaintance; but here, where I have a
certain standing and position, it was obviously the right thing to
treat me with courteous deference. He came up to me with a genial
welcome, and, but for a little touch of prosperous baldness, I could
have imagined that he was hardly a day older than when he was a boy. He
reminded me of some cheerful passages of boyhood; he asked with kindly
interest after my work; he paid me exactly the right compliments; and I
became aware that I was, for the moment, one of the pawns in his game