Dissentient, 1. Because I wish it were not so. (signed) DUNSFORD. MILVERTON. "Hate is too strong a word, Ellesmere; what you say would be true enough, if you would put "are not in sympathy with.” ELLESMERE. "Have a quiet distaste for." That is the proper medium. Now, to go to another matter. You have not put the case of over-managing people, who are tremendous to live with. MILVERTON. I have spoken about "interfering "unreasonably with others." ELLESMERE. That does not quite convey what I mean. It is when the manager and the managee are both of the same mind as to the thing to be done; but the former insists, and instructs, and suggests, and foresees, till the other feels that all free agency for him is gone. MILVERTON. It is a sad thing to consider how much of their abilities people turn to tiresomeness. You see a man who would be very agreeable if he were not so observant: another who would be charming, if he were deaf and dumb: a third delightful, if he did not vex all around him with superfluous criticism. ELLESMERE. A hit at me at last, I suspect. But I shall go on. You have not, I think, made enough merit of independence in companionship. If I were to put into an aphorism what I mean, I should say, Those who depend wholly on companionship, are the worst companions: or thus, Those deserve companionship who can do without it. There, Mr. Aphoriser General, what do you say to that? MILVERTON. Very good, but — ELLESMERE. Of course a "but" to other people's aphorisms, as if every aphorism had not buts innumerable. We critics, you know, cannot abide criticism. We do all the criticism that is needed ourselves. I wonder at the presumption sometimes of you wretched authors. But, to proceed. You have not said anything about the mischief of superfluous condolence amongst people who live together. I flatter myself that I could condole anybody out of all peace of mind. MILVERTON. All depends upon whether condolence goes with the grain, or against the grain, of vanity. I know what you mean, however: For instance, it is a very absurd thing to fret much over other people's courses, not considering the knowledge and discipline that there is in any course that a man may take. And it is still more absurd to be constantly showing the people fretted over, that you are fretting over them. I think a good deal of what you call superfluous condolence would come under the head of superfluous criticism. ELLESMERE. Not altogether. In companionship, when an evil happens to one of the circle, the others should simply attempt to share and lighten it, not to expound it, or dilate on it, or make it the least darker. The person afflicted generally apprehends all the blackness sufficiently. Now, unjust abuse by the world is to me like the howling of the wind at night when one is warm within. Bring any draught of it into one's house though; and it is not so pleasant. DUNSFORD. Talking of companionship, do not you think there is often a peculiar feeling of home where age or infirmity is? The arm-chair of the sick, or the old, is the centre of the house. They think, perhaps, that they are unimportant; but all the household hopes and cares flow to them and from them. MILVERTON. I quite agree with you. What you have just depicted is a beautiful sight, especially when, as you often see, the age or infirmity is not in the least selfish or exacting. ELLESMERE. We have said a great deal about the companionship of human beings: but, upon my word, we ought to have kept a few words for our dog friends. Rollo has been lolling out his great tongue, and looking wistfully from face to face, as we each began our talk. A few minutes ago he was quite concerned, thinking I was angry with you, when I would not let you "but" my aphorism. I am not sure which of the three I should rather go out walking with now: Dunsford, Rollo, Milverton. The middle one is the safest companion. I am sure not to get out of humour with him. But I have no objection to try the whole three: only I vote for much continuity of silence, as we have had floods of discussion to-day. DUNSFORD. Agreed! ELLESMERE. Come, Rollo! you may bark now, as you have been silent, like a wise dog, all the morning. CHAPTER VIII. Ir was arranged, during our walk, that Ellesmere should come and stay a day or two with me, and see the neighbouring cathedral which is nearer my house than Milverton's. The visit over, I brought him back to Worth Ashton. Milverton saw us coming, walked down the hill to meet us, and after the usual greetings, began to talk to Ellesmere. MILVERTON. So you have been to see our cathedral. I say "our," for when a cathedral is within ten miles of us we feel a property in it, and are ready to do battle for its architectural merits. ELLESMERE. You know I am not a man to rave about cathedrals. MILVERTON. I certainly do not expect you to do so. To me a cathedral is mostly somewhat of a sad sight. You have Grecian monuments, if anything so misplaced can be called Grecian, imbedded against and cutting into, gothic pillars; the doors shut for the greater part of the day; only a little bit of the building used; beadledom predominant; the clink |