A new generation of little
maidens is springing up around us, are they, too, destined to follow
the beaten track their elders have trodden so unworthily? Will they be
taught these nice discriminations between wealth and no wealth? Must
they, too, meet a struggling gentility with a haughty, overbearing
carriage, and elbow out less independent aspirants, whom some
capricious fortune has brought within their contact? Does one little
star in the vault above shine less brightly or twinkle less gladly
because myriads of others do likewise? After all, what vainglory need
there be in accidents of birth or fortune. They are not virtually
ours, they have been given to us, and rest upon a changing wind that,
to-morrow, may waft them far out of our Reach or sight forever.
"All flesh is grass; and all its glory fades Like the fair flower
dishevelled in the wind, Riches have wings, and grandeur is a
dream!"
To attack this evil, at its root, is to expose one of the most
powerful defects of our times, for no one can deny that this spirit
which prevails among so-called well-bred people, is the evident result
of that "little learning" which is "a dangerous thing." Of this I
became more strongly convinced as I grew older.
My summer vacation was not long in coming to an end. I had whiled away
some happy hours, and days and weeks, forming fleeting pleasures and
seeing novel sights. My brother Freddie had entered very sparingly
into my pleasures, as our tastes were vastly different, and his health
on the whole rather delicate, he was a pretty boy in a sailor costume,
when I saw him after our long separation, with mild blue eyes and a
pallid countenance.
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