start and I started."

Whereupon the plain man was, as too often with us plain men, staggered
and deeply affronted by the illogical absurdity of human nature. "Was
it conceivable," he thought, "that this traveller, presumably in his
senses--" etc. (You are familiar with the tone and the style, being a
plain man yourself.) And he gave way to moral indignation.

Now I must here, in parenthesis, firmly state that I happen to be a
member of the Society for the Suppression of Moral Indignation. As
such, I object to the plain man's moral indignation against the
traveller; and I think that a liability to moral indignation is one of
the plain man's most serious defects. As such, my endeavour is to
avoid being staggered and deeply affronted, or even surprised, by
human vagaries. There are too many plain people who are always
rediscovering human nature--its turpitudes, fatuities, unreason. They
live amid human nature as in a chamber of horrors. And yet, after all
these years, we surely ought to have grown used to human nature! It
may be extremely vile--that is not the point. The point is that it
constitutes our environment, from which we cannot escape alive. The
man who is capable of being deeply affronted by his inevitable
environment ought to have the pluck of his convictions and shoot
himself. The Society would with pleasure pay his funeral expenses and
contribute to the support of his wife and children. Such a man is,
without knowing it, a dire enemy of true progress, which can only be
planned and executed in an atmosphere from which heated moral
superiority is absent.

I offer these parenthetical remarks as a guarantee that I shall not
over-righteously sneer at the plain man for his share in the sequel to