"You had something to do in making me what I am,--an idler; something
to answer for as to my doubts, fantasies, and crotchets. It was by
your recommendation that I was placed under the tuition of Mr. Welby,
and at that critical age in which the bent of the twig forms the shape
of the tree."

"And I pride myself on that counsel. I repeat the reasons for which I
gave it: it is an incalculable advantage for a young man to start in
life thoroughly initiated into the New Ideas which will more or less
influence his generation. Welby was the ablest representative of
these ideas. It is a wondrous good fortune when the propagandist of
the New Ideas is something more than a bookish philosopher,--when he
is a thorough 'man of the world,' and is what we emphatically call
'practical.' Yes, you owe me much that I secured to you such tuition,
and saved you from twaddle and sentiment, the poetry of Wordsworth and
the muscular Christianity of Cousin John."

"What you say that you saved me from might have done me more good than
all you conferred on me. I suspect that when education succeeds in
placing an old head upon young shoulders the combination is not
healthful: it clogs the blood and slackens the pulse. However, I must
not be ungrateful; you meant kindly. Yes, I suppose Welby is
practical: he has no belief, and he has got a place. But our host, I
presume, is also practical; his place is a much higher one than
Welby's, and yet he is surely not without belief?"

"He was born before the new ideas came into practical force; but in
proportion as they have done so, his beliefs have necessarily
disappeared. I don't suppose that he believes in much now, except the
two propositions: firstly, that if he accept the new ideas he will