and, as a rule, conciliates respect. But this boy
could not do that.

Then I shall try to encourage the boy in any taste he may exhibit, and
try to build up a real structure on these slender lines. The great
point is that he shall have SOME absorbing and wholesome instinct. He
will be wealthy, and in a position to gratify any whim. He is not in
the least likely to do anything foolish or vicious--he has not got the
animal spirits for that. I shall encourage him to take up politics; and
I shall try to put into his head a desire to do something for his
fellow-creatures, and not to live an entirely lonely and self-absorbed
life.

I have a theory that in education it is better to encourage aptitudes
than to try merely to correct deficiencies. One can't possibly
extirpate weaknesses by trying to crush them. One must build up
vitality and interest and capacity. It is like the parable of the evil
spirits. It is of no use simply to cast them out and leave the soul
empty and swept; one must encourage some strong, good spirit to take
possession; one must build on the foundations that are there.

The boy is delicate-minded, able and intelligent; he is an interesting
companion, when he is once at his ease. If only this busy, fussy,
hearty old bore would leave him alone! What I am afraid of his doing is
of his getting the boy to stay with him, making him go out hunting, and
laughing mercilessly at his tumbles. The misery that a stupid, genial
man can inflict upon a sensitive boy like this is dreadful to
contemplate.

At the end of the half I shall write a letter about the boy's work, and
delicately hint that, if he is encouraged in his subject, he may attain
high distinction and eventually rise to political or scientific
eminence. The old bawler will take the fly with a swirl--see if he does
not! And, if I can secure an interview with him, I will wager that my
triumph will be complete.

Does this all seem very dingy to you, my dear Herbert? You have never
had to deal with tiresome, stupid people in a professional capacity,
you see. There is a distinct pleasure in getting one's own way, in
triumphing over an awkward situation, in leading an old buffer by the
nose to do the thing which you think right, and to make him believe
that you are all the time following his advice and treasuring up his
precepts. But I can honestly say that my chief desire is not to amuse
myself with this kind of diplomacy, but the real welfare of the chil