"If so, they will be of it," retorted the Agnostic.

"Now just kindly let up on that a little." Riddle continued, "you
fellows are too confounded theoretical for me. What's the good of going
round congesting your cerebrums about problems you can't settle? I say
let a fellow go it while he's young--moderately you know--and when he is
old he will not regret the same. You fellows swot, and I sit in the
orchestra chairs. You read your digestions to rack and ruin--or else
you've got to be so mighty careful,--while I put in a fine gourmand's
dinner every day, attended with the comforts of civilization. I dance
while you are working up unsuccessful essays. The world owes nothing to
fellows who do that. If you're fools enough to want to benefit the
world, turn your minds to steam engines and telegraphs, that cheapen
dinners and save us running, and I'll give you my blessing in spare
moments when I've nothing to do. I take a kind of melancholy interest in
this institution, you know, but honestly upon my word, I hate your
rational style, and I wouldn't for the world go round like a walking
problem and have the fellows call me '_For_lorne Riddle.' The place
where I enjoy myself most,--our private theatrical club,--is called the
'Inconsistents' on that principle. We don't care about being correct. We
know we have the prettiest girls and chummiest fellows in town, and
we're all right."

"Of course if a fellow's legs are so crooked that he can't dance or
appear in a play, he has got to solace himself with billiards or eating,
or some of the elegant accomplishments like playing the guitar. That's
my system. There's philosophy in it too, by jove! I've done lots of
philosophy by the smoke of a cigarette. It's philosophy properly tamed,
in evening dress. It's philosophy made into a good Churchman, and Tory!"