en
passed a whole day in a forest. I would choose some solitary glade,
where my intrusion was audibly resented by the unseen creatures of the
wood, who fled before me; but when an hour had passed, and the signal
had run through the forest that I meant no harm, those scattered and
astonished creatures reassembled. The whole life of the wood then went
on before my eyes; the birds sang their best for me, the squirrel
performed his innocent gymnastics with an eye to my applause, the very
snake moved less shyly through the grass, as though the word had gone
forth that I was a guest, who must be entertained and made to feel at
home. This experience often recurred to me in my early days at
Thornthwaite. It was some time before I was admitted to the
free-masonry of the scanty social life around me; when at last I had
paid my footing I found that here also was a commonwealth; here also
might be found upon a narrow scale, but in authentic forms,

Piety and fear,
Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,
Degrees, observances, customs, and laws.

CHAPTER XI

THE WOUNDS OF A FRIEND

Those who have been friendly enough to follow me so far in my little
story will scarcely push their friendship so far that they will refrain
from criticism upon myself and my doings. On one point, viz. the
social morality of my conduct, I am so sure of criticism that I will
anticipate it with self-criticism. Had I the moral right to desert the
city, and to ignore the social obligations of the city, in order to
find a life that was more pleasurable to myself? A city which presents
a depressing variety of social needs can hardly afford to spare any
good citizen, however humble, who is capable of social service, and for
such a citizen to contract himself out of his obligations is very like
skulking. I confess that this consideration occasioned me some
uneasiness, and the questions which it raised have been treated with
such admirable lucidity by a friend of mine, who still resides in
London, that I will let him put the case against me.

The friend of whom I speak belongs to that class which may be roughly
described as Earnest Good People. With very small means, and not much
spare time at his disposal, he is nevertheless constantly engaged in
what is called the work of Social Amelioration. The problems of city
squalor, vice, and ignorance haunt him like a nightmare. When a very
young man he made a voyage of discovery amon