the humility which is given by a knowledge of weakness, I can
honestly say that in particular points I have improved a little. I am
not generous or noble-hearted now; but I have not lost these qualities,
for I never had them. As a boy and a young man I distinctly preferred
Advantage to Honour; I was the prey of Expediency, and seldom gave
Virtue a thought. But since I have known more of men, I have come to
know that these fine powers, Honour and Virtue, do bloom in some men's
souls, and in the hearts of many women. I have perceived their
fragrance; I have seen Honour raise its glowing face like a rose, and
Virtue droop its head like a pure snowdrop; and I hope that some day,
as in an early day of spring, I may find some such tender green thing
budding in the ugly soil of my own poor spirit.

Life would be a feeble business if it were otherwise; but the one ray
of hope is not that one steadily declines in brightness from those
early days, but that one may learn by admiration the beauty of the
great qualities one never had by instinct.

I see myself as a boy, greedy, mean-spirited, selfish, dull. I see
myself as a young man, vain, irritable, self-absorbed, unbalanced. I
have not eradicated these weeds; but I have learnt to believe in beauty
and honour, even in Truth. . . .--Ever yours,

T. B.

MONK'S ORCHARD,
UPTON,
Sept. 13, 1904.

DEAR HERBERT,--I have just come back after a long, vague holiday,
feeling well and keen about my work. The boys are not back yet, and I
have returned to put things ready for next half. But my serene mood has
received a shock this morning.

I wonder if you ever get disagreeable letters? I suppose that a
schoolmaster is peculiarly liable to receive them. The sort of letter I
mean is this. I come down to breakfast in good spirits; I pick up a
letter and open it, and, all of a sudden, it is as if a snake slipped
out and bit me. I close it and put it away, thinking I will read it
later; there it lies close by my plate, and takes away the taste of
food, and blots the sunshine. I take it upstairs, saying that it will
want consideration. I finish my other letters, and then I take it out
again. Out comes the snake again with a warning hiss; but I resist
temptation this time, read it through, and sit staring out of the
window. A disagreeable letter from a disagreeable man, containing
anxious information, of a kind that I cannot really test. What is the
best way to deal with it? I k