It seems to me that the very clouds that pass above my house are
more interesting and beautiful than clouds elsewhere.
And to think that at one time I called myself a socialist,
communist, anything you like of the
revolutionary kind! Not for
long, to be sure, and I
suspect that there was always something in
me that scoffed when my lips uttered such things. Why, no man
living has a more
profound sense of property than I; no man ever
lived, who was, in every fibre, more vehemently an individualist.
XIII
In this high summertide, I remember with a strange feeling that
there are people who, of their free choice, spend day and night in
cities, who
throng to the gabble of
drawing-rooms, make
festival in
public eating-houses, sweat in the glare of the theatre. They call
it life; they call it
enjoyment. Why, so it is, for them; they are
so made. The folly is mine, to wonder that they
fulfil their
destiny.
But with what deep and quiet
thanksgiving do I
remind myself that
never shall I
mingle with that well-millinered and tailored herd!
Happily, I never saw much of them. Certain occasions I recall when
a
supposed necessity took me into their
dismal precincts; a sick
buzzing in the brain, a languor as of exhausted limbs, comes upon me
with the memory. The
relief with which I stepped out into the
street again, when all was over! Dear to me then was
poverty, which
for the moment seemed to make me a free man. Dear to me was the
labour at my desk, which, by
comparison, enabled me to respect
myself.
Never again shall I shake hands with man or woman who is not in
truth my friend. Never again shall I go to see
acquaintances with
whom I have no
acquaintance. All men my brothers? Nay, thank
Heaven, that they are not! I will do harm, if I can help it, to no
one; I will wish good to all; but I will make no
pretence of
personal kindliness where, in the nature of things, it cannot be
felt. I have grimaced a smile and pattered unmeaning words to many
a person whom I despised or from whom in heart I
shrank; I did so
because I had not courage to do
otherwise. For a man
conscious of
such
weakness, the best is to live apart from the world. Brave
Samuel Johnson! One such truth-teller is worth all the moralists
and preachers who ever laboured to humanise mankind. Had HE
withdrawn into
solitude, it would have been a national loss. Every
one of his blunt,
fearless words had more value than a whole evangel
on the lips of a
timidly good man. It is thus that the commonalty,
however well clad, should be treated. So seldom does the fool or
the
ruffian in broadcloth hear his just designation; so seldom is
the man found who has a right to address him by it. By the bandying
of insults we profit nothing; there can be no useful
rebuke which is
exposed to a tu quoque. But, as the world is, an honest and wise
man should have a rough tongue. Let him speak and spare not!
XIV
Vituperation of the English
climate is foolish. A better
climatedoes not exist--for
healthy people; and it is always as regards the
average native in sound health that a
climate must be judged.
Invalids have no right
whatever to talk petulantly of the natural
changes of the sky; Nature has not THEM in view; let them (if they
can) seek
exceptional conditions for their
exceptional state,
leaving behind them many a million of sound,
hearty men and women
who take the seasons as they come, and profit by each in turn. In
its freedom from extremes, in its common clemency, even in its
caprice, which at the worst time holds out hope, our island weather
compares well with that of other lands. Who enjoys the fine day of
spring, summer, autumn, or winter so much as an Englishman? His
perpetual talk of the weather is
testimony to his keen
relish for
most of what it offers him; in lands of blue
monotony, even as where