By Way of Illustration.


The peculiar quality which culture imparts is beyond the comprehension
of a child, and yet it is something so definite and engaging that a
child may recognise its presence and feel its attraction. One of the
special pieces of good fortune which fell to my boyhood was
companionship with a man whose note of distinction, while not entirely
clear to me, threw a spell over me. I knew other men of greater force
and of larger scholarship; but no one else gave me such an impression
of balance, ripeness, and fineness of quality. I not only felt a
peculiarly searching influence flowing from one who graciously put
himself on my level of intelligence, but I felt also an impulse to
emulate a nature which satisfied my imagination completely. Other men
of ability whose conversation I heard filled me with admiration; this
man made the world larger and richer to my boyish thought. There was
no didacticism on his part; there was, on the contrary, a simplicity
so great that I felt entirely at home with him; but he was so
thoroughly a citizen of the world that I caught a glimpse of the world
in his most casual talk. I got a sense of the largeness and richness
of life from him. I did not know what it was which laid such hold on
my mind, but I saw later that it was the remarkable culture of the
man,--a culture made possible by many fortunate conditions of wealth,
station, travel, and education, and expressing itself in a peculiar
largeness of vision and sweetness of spirit. In this man's friendship
I was for the moment lifted out of my own crudity into that vast
movement and experience in which all the races have shared.

I am often reminded of this early impulse and enthusiasm, but there