a little strange. Sitting down as a level member of
the dairyman's household seemed at the outset an undignified proceeding. The
ideas, the modes, the surroundings, appeared retrogressive and unmeaning. But
with living on there, day after day, the acute sojourner became conscious of a
new aspect in the spectacle. Without any objective change whatever, variety had
taken the place of monotonousness. His host and his host's household, his men
and his maids, as they became intimately known to Clare, began to differentiate
themselves as in a chemical process. The thought of Pascal's was brought home to
him: »A mesure qu'on a plus d'esprit, on trouve qu'il y a plus d'hommes
originaux. Les gens du commun ne trouvent pas de différence entre les hommes.«
The typical and unvarying Hodge ceased to exist. He had been disintegrated into
a number of varied fellow-creatures - beings of many minds, beings infinite in
difference; some happy, many serene, a few depressed, one here and there bright
even to genius, some stupid, others wanton, others austere; some mutely
Miltonic, some potentially Cromwellian; into men who had private views of each
other, as he had of his friends; who could applaud or condemn each other, amuse
or sadden themselves by the contemplation of each other's foibles or vices; men
every one of whom walked in his own individual way the road to dusty death.
    Unexpectedly he began to like the outdoor life for its own sake, and for
what it brought, apart from its bearing on his own proposed career. Considering
his position he became wonderfully free from the chronic melancholy which is
taking hold of the civilized races with the decline of belief in a beneficent
Power. For the first time of late years he could read as his musings inclined
him, without any eye to cramming for a profession, since the few farming
handbooks which he deemed it desirable to master occupied him but little time.
    He grew away from old associations, and saw something new in life and
humanity. Secondarily, he made close acquaintance with phenomena which he had
before known but darkly - the seasons in their moods, morning and evening, night
and noon, winds in their different tempers, trees, waters and mists, shades and
silences, and the voices of inanimate things.
 
The early mornings were still sufficiently cool to render a fire acceptable in
the large room wherein they breakfasted; and, by Mrs. Crick's orders, who held
that he was too genteel to mess at their table, it was