.

Between himself and young Robert Hart a bond of friendship rapidly
grew--strong enough to bear the lapse of time and even the occasional
bursts of frank criticism to which the host treated his guest. At
least on one occasion it was very sharp indeed. Hart and another young
man (afterwards Sir Robert Douglas) had gone riding in the outer city
of Peking on the fifth of the fifth moon--a feast day--when, on their
way home, a yelling mob collected around them, shouting disrespectful
names and even throwing things at them. True, they did it all in a
spirit of playfulness, but a moment or a trifle might easily have
turned mischief into malice, and, realizing this, Hart pulled up
at one of the shops in the big street and asked the shopkeeper, a
respectable greybeard, to tell the crowd not to pass his shop door.

"But," said the old fellow, "we have nothing to do with these people."

"I know that," was the reply, "but if they misbehave themselves I
shall not be able to report them, because they are vagabonds who
will disappear into the holes and corners of the city. They would
be impossible to find again, but you are a man with a fixed place of
residence; it will be easy enough to find you. I see, by the way, your
shop is called 'Renewed Affluence' on the signboard. And if you plead
that the affair was no business of yours, people will never believe
that a word from a respectable man like yourself would not suffice to
control a crowd of ragamuffins."

Hart's use of this argument, so peculiarly Chinese in its reasoning,
showed how well he already understood the character of the people--how
well he appreciated the underlying principle of their community
life, the responsibility of a man for his neighbour's behaviour. The
shopkeeper was, of course, duly impressed. He spoke to the crowd and
they melted away.

But when at luncheon Hart told his host how narrowly he had escaped
rough treatment, all the satisfaction he got was: "Served you right,
you two young fools, riding about where you were not wanted. Served
you right, I say. If I had been there I'd have had a shy at you
myself."

This remark was characteristic of Sir Frederick Bruce, who, either
from character or experience, or both, took a conservative view of
everything--even of trifles. I know Robert Hart afterwards attributed
some of his own caution to his friend's example. "In all things go
slowly," Bruce was wont to say in his booming, bell-like tone.
"Never be