So much, then, for BENJAMIN. In spite of everything I have a sort of
sneaking regard for the poor man, especially since I discovered that
he was not a free agent, but was inspired in word and action by your
blatant influence. Were it not that I feared to weary you, I might
proceed at much greater length. I might parade before you regiment
upon regiment of pompous local magnates and political nobodies all
drilled and disciplined by your offensive methods, and all of them
as absurd and preposterous as they can be made. But the spectacle
would only move you to derision. One point, however, I must insist
on. Whatever you do, don't throw JOSHUA POSER across my path again.
I might do him an injury. We were at College together, he being my
senior by a year. Even then he always assumed a condescension towards
me, an air as of one who temporarily stepped down from a pedestal to
mingle with common grovellers. He became a personage in the City,
a Chairman and a Director of Companies, and I lost sight of him.
Yesterday I met him, and he was good enough to address me. "Yes,
yes," he observed, "I remember you well. I have read some of your
contributions to periodical literature, and I can honestly say I
was pleased; yes, I was pleased. Of course the work is unequal,
and I marked one or two passages that might have been omitted with
advantage. For instance, the discussion between the vicar and the
family doctor is not quite in the most refined taste, but there is
distinct promise even in that. By the way, why don't you write in _The
New Congeries_? Your style would suit it. I always take that paper in,
and I find it very much appreciated in the pantry. The butler reads
it, when we have done with it, and passes it on to the footman. It
keeps them out of mischief. Now take my advice, and contribute to
that." I humbly murmured my thanks to this intolerable person, and
left him. As I turned away I half thought I heard the sound of your