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Average One Directory 08
Page 07
This does not in the least apply to groups of people who are genuinely and keenly interested in art of any kind, and form a congenial circle in which they discuss, frankly and enthusiastically, methods of work, the books, ideas, pictures, and music which interest them. That is quite a different thing, a real fortress of enthusiasm in the midst of Meshech and Kedar. What makes it base and morbid is the desire to exclude for the sake of exclusion; to indulge in solitary raptures, hoping to be overheard; to keep the tail of the eye upon the public; to attempt to mystify; and to trade upon the inquisitive instinct of human beings, the natural desire, that is, to know what is going on within any group that seems to have exciting business of its own.
The mastiff is a large, grave, sullen-looking dog, with a wide chest, noble head, long switch tail, bright eyes, and a loud, deep voice. Of all dogs this is the most vigilant watcher over the property of his master, and nothing can tempt him to betray the confidence reposed in him. Notwithstanding his commanding appearance, and the strictness with which he guards the property of his master, the mastiff is possessed of great mildness of character, and is very grateful for any favors bestowed upon him. I once went into the barn of a friend where there was a mastiff chained; I went up to the dog and patted him on the head, when out rushed the groom from the stable exclaiming, "Come away, sir! He's dangerous with strangers." But I did not remove my hand nor show any fear. The consequence was, that the dog and I were the best of friends; but had I shown any fear, and hastily removed my hand, I might have fared rather badly, for this dog always couples fear with guilt.
"I don't pretend to argue with a lady on politics," said Mr. Brooke, with an air of smiling indifference, but feeling rather unpleasantly conscious that this attack of Mrs. Cadwallader's had opened the defensive campaign to which certain rash steps had exposed him. "Your sex are not thinkers, you know--varium et mutabile semper--that kind of thing. You don't know Virgil. I knew"--Mr. Brooke reflected in time that he had not had the personal acquaintance of the Augustan poet--"I was going to say, poor Stoddart, you know. That was what _he_ said. You ladies are always against an independent attitude--a man's caring for nothing but truth, and that sort of thing. And there is no part of the county where opinion is narrower than it is here--I don't mean to throw stones, you know, but somebody is wanted to take the independent line; and if I don't take it, who will?"
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