my head was small I had strong reason to believe that the convolutions of
my brain were quite top-hole.

I did not do so and I only recall the incident now because it shows how we
all get in the way of looking at life through our own particular peep-hole.
Here is a man who sees all the world through the size of its hats. He
reverences Jones because he takes 7-1/2; he dismisses Smith as of no
account because he only takes 6-3/4. In some degree, we all have this
restricted professional vision. The tailor runs his eye over your clothes
and reckons you up according to the cut of your garments and the degree of
shininess they display. You are to him simply a clothes-peg and your merit
is in exact ratio to the clothes you carry. The bootmaker looks at your
boots and takes your intellectual, social and financial measurement from
their quality and condition. If you are down-at-the-heel, the glossy
condition of your hat will not alter his opinion about you. The hat does
not come in his range of vision. It is not a part of his criteria.

It is so with the dentist. He judges all the world by its teeth. One look
in your mouth and he has settled and immovable convictions about your
character, your habits, your physical condition, your position, and your
mental attributes. He touches a nerve and you wince. "Ah," says he to
himself, "this man takes too much alcohol and tobacco and tea and coffee."
He sees the teeth are irregular. "Poor fellow," he says, "how badly he was
brought up!" He observes that the teeth are neglected. "A careless fellow,"
he says. "Spends his money on follies and neglects his family I'll be
bound." And by the time he has finished with you he feels that he could
write your biography simply from the evidence of your teeth. And I daresay
it would be as true as most biographies--and as false.

In the same way, the business man looks at life through the keyhole of his