rst and then returns to a more
congenial self-contemplation, my burly young friend would, I have not
the slightest doubt, grow more companionable and considerate every day
that one knew him. But his manner was the manner of the common-room and
the cricket field, that odd British humour, that, without meaning to be
unkind, thrusts its darts clumsily in the weak points of the armour. It
is this, I think, that makes English public school life so good a
discipline, if one unlearns its methods as soon as one has done with
it, because it makes men tolerant of criticism and even ridicule; its
absence of sentiment makes them tough; its absence of courtesy makes
them strong.

But I did not like it at the time. He surveyed my belongings with
good-humoured contempt. He said he did not care for fiddling about a
garden himself, and at my fowl-house he jested of fleas. In my library
he said he had no time for poking about with books. I asked him about
his life at P---- and he assured me it was not half bad; that the boys
were all right if you knew how to take them; and he told me some
pleasant stories of some of his inefficient colleagues. He said that a
good deal of the work was rot, but that they had a first-rate cricket
pitch, and a splendid Pro.

Yet this young man took a high classical degree, and is, I know for a
fact, an admirable schoolmaster, sensible, effective, and even wise; he
makes his boys work, and work contentedly, and he is not only popular
but really trusted by the boys. He would never do a mean thing or an
unkind thing; he is absolutely manly, straightforward, and honourable,
and I gladly admit that a man's behaviour on a social occasion is a
very trivial thing beside these greater qualities. But what is it,
then, which causes this curious gruffness and rudeness, this apparent
assumption that every one is slightly grotesque, low-minded, and
dishonest? For the style of humour which this type develops is the
humour that consists in calling attention in public to any deficiencies
that you may observe in a man's appearance, manner, and surroundings,
and also taking for granted that his motives for action are bad. I do
not mean to say that my young friend considers me grotesque or
dishonest, but his idea of humour is to make a pretence of thinking so.
He would be distressed if he thought that he had given me pain; his
intention is to diffuse a genial good-humour into the scene; and if he
were bantered in the same way