however. I don't mean that they bully me; I absolutely decline to
be bullied. I say what I think, because I believe that I have, on
the whole, the advantage of knowing what I think--when I think
anything--which is half the battle. Sometimes, indeed, I think
nothing at all. They don't like that over here; they like you to
have impressions. That they like these impressions to be favourable
appears to me perfectly natural; I don't make a crime to them of
that; it seems to me, on the contrary, a very amiable quality. When
individuals have it, we call them sympathetic; I don't see why we
shouldn't give nations the same benefit. But there are things I
haven't the least desire to have an opinion about. The privilege of
indifference is the dearest one we possess, and I hold that
intelligent people are known by the way they exercise it. Life is
full of rubbish, and we have at least our share of it over here.
When you wake up in the morning you find that during the night a
cartload has been deposited in your front garden. I decline,
however, to have any of it in my premises; there are thousands of
things I want to know nothing about. I have outlived the necessity
of being hypocritical; I have nothing to gain and everything to
lose. When one is fifty years old--single, stout, and red in the
face--one has outlived a good many necessities. They tell me over
here that my increase of weight is extremely marked, and though they
don't tell me that I am coarse, I am sure they think me so. There
is very little coarseness here--not quite enough, I think--though
there is plenty of vulgarity, which is a very different thing. On
the whole, the country is becoming much more agreeable. It isn't
that the people are charming, for that they always were (the best of
them, I mean, for it isn't true of the others), but that places and
things as well have acquired the art of pleasing. The houses are
extremely good, and they look so extraordinarily fresh and clean.