ss that he thought his own
point of view in all respects superior to mine. He thought me a
slow-coach, an old maid, a sentimentalist; and I had, too, the galling
feeling that on the whole he approved of a drudge like myself taking a
rather priggish point of view, and that he did not expect a
schoolmaster to be a man of the world, any more than he would have
expected a curate or a gardener to be. I felt that the man was in his
way a worse prig even than I was, and even more of a Pharisee, because
he judged everything by a certain conventional standard. His idea of
life was a place where you found out what was the right thing to do;
and that if you did that, money and consideration, the only two things
worth having, followed as a matter of course. "Of course he's not my
sort," was the way in which he dismissed almost the only person we
discussed whom I thoroughly admired. So we went on; and I can only say
that the relief I felt when I saw him drive away on Monday morning was
so great as almost to make it worth while having endured his visit. I
think he rather enjoyed himself--at least he threatened to pay me
another visit; and I am sure he had the benevolent consciousness of
having brought a breath of the big world into a paltry life. The big
world! what a terrible place it would be if it was peopled by Welbores!
My only consolation is that men of his type don't achieve the great
successes. They are very successful up to a certain point; they get
what they want. Welbore will be a judge before long, and he has already
made a large fortune. But there is a demand for more wisdom and
generosity in the great places--at least I hope so. Welbore's idea of
the world is a pleasant place where such men as he can make money and
have a good time. He thinks art, religion, beauty, poetry, music, all
stuff. I would not mind that if only he did not KNOW it was stuff. God
forbid that we should pretend to enjoy such things if we do not--and,
after all, the man is not a hypocrite. But his view is that any one who
is cut in a different mould is necessarily inferior; and what put the
crowning touch to my disgust was that on Sunday afternoon we met a
Cabinet Minister, who is a great student of literature. He talked about
books to Mr. Welbore, and Mr. Welbore heard him with respect, because
the Minister was in the swim. He said afterwards to me that people's
foibles were very odd; but he so far respected the Minister's success
as to think that h