worship himself, is in the slime of hell. Walter knew his father a
reading man, but because he had not been to a university, placed no
value on his reading. Yet this father was a man who had intercourse with
high countries, intercourse in which his son would not have perceived
the presence of an idea.

In like manner, Richard's carriage of mind, and the expression of the
same in his modes and behavior, must have been far other than
objectionable to the ushers of those high countries; his was a certain
quiet, simply, direct way, reminding one of Nathanael, in whom was no
guile. In another man Walter would have called it bucolic; in his father
he shut his eyes to it as well as he could, and was ashamed of it. He
would scarcely, in his circle, be regarded as a gentleman! he would look
odd! He therefore had not encouraged the idea of his coming to see him.
He was not satisfied with the father by whom the Father of fathers had
sent him into the world! But Richard was the truest of gentlemen even in
his outward carriage, for he was not only courteous and humble, but that
rare thing--natural; and the natural, be it old as the Greek, must be
beautiful. The natural dwells deep, and is not the careless, any more
than the studied or assumed.

Walter loved his father, but the root of his love did not go deep enough
to send aloft a fine flower: deep in is high out. He seldom wrote, and
wrote briefly. He did not make a confidant of his father. He did not
even tell him what he was doing, or what he hoped to do. He might
mention a success, but of hopes, fears, aspirations, or defeats, or
thoughts or desires, he said nothing. As to his theories, he never
imagined his father entering into such things as occupied _his_ mind!
The ordinary young man takes it for granted that he and the world are
far ahead of "the governor;" the father may have left behind him, as