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“A free man’s open, joyous spirit, dear; unruffled self-reliance in reaching out for that which he needed. You should have seen his firm, capable hands, hardened by toil. And his face–the face of a man who overflows with all good gifts.”

“What did people say?”

“They knew him, they were only amused. And he was amused. When he began to speak he had his tongue completely under control. It seemed to me that the voice was unnatural, it sounded as though it came from inward depths. But it was his natural voice. He had hardly begun when something happened. A crowd of ladies and gentlemen strolled by, among them some of the Queen’s suite. We could see them from our place near the window, and he saw them too; we saw that they pointed in.

“He stopped short, turned quite pale, and drew a breath so deep that we all heard it. Then he drank more water. It was long before he could go on speaking. They all looked at him, some whispered among themselves. Up to now he had spoken like a great machine which gives the first irregular beats with pauses between. But now he rose, and when he began to speak again he was sober. I tell you he was absolutely sober. Let me tell you by degrees, or you won’t understand.

“His speech–do you know to what it can be compared? A fugue of Bach’s. There was something fulminating but abundant, uninterruptedly abundant, and often so gentle; but there was this great difference, that he often groped for a word, changed it, altered it again, and yet it was incessant, and reverberant in spite of it all–that was the wonderful part of it. An irresistible reckless eagerness and haste. One wondered if there could be more, and there was always more, and nearly always something extraordinary.

“I had often heard people described as being possessed by some force of nature, but I had never seen it. Least of all at the Court, where marked personality is rare. I was at last face to face with one. The man who stood there was obliged to speak–in the same way, probably, as at a generous table he was obliged to drink. I knew that he managed his two farms, and worked on them himself when he had time, and I imagined that I could see the giant finding relaxation in the work; but I saw clearly that his mind would work on as actively all the same, and that head and hands would vie with each other which should weary first.

“It was of work that he spoke. He led off by a reference to the Queen.

“‘Who is she?’ he asked; then he answered with some kindly feeling words about her. Then he asked again: ‘Who is she?’ He replied with another inquiry: ‘Does she earn her own bread?’

“This he held was the first obligation of all grown-up human beings who had the power to do it. That was the first standard we should apply to one another.

“‘Does she earn her own bread? Do those who are in her suite earn theirs?’

“‘No,’ he answered, ‘they don’t earn it. They live on that which others have earned, and are earning.

“‘What do they do? Brain work? No, they live by the brain work of others. How do they spend their days then?

“‘In enjoyment, mental and bodily enjoyment of that which others have done and are doing. In luxury, in idleness, in social formalities, in king-worship, in travelling, in repose do they live.’ At this point he kept on substituting one word for another, but made no pause.

“Their greatest exertion, he said, was to try to enjoy an additional party or an extra levee, their greatest danger was a cold or an overtaxed digestion.

“And in order that the fruit of other people’s labour should not be taken from them, what did they do?

“They opposed everything which threatened them with a new order of things. They opposed all needful changes. They opposed emancipation for those who had nothing in the world. They behaved as though society had from eternity been ordained for them, as though they could say ‘Thus far and no farther.’