or stupid or what is it he exclaimed merrily � it must be something yes � it is this � it is beyond me altogether and i spoke with some bitterness quite beyond me i could not write it now � i wonder i could write it then i i am talking foolishly � but it seems to me i must have been on some higher of thought when i wrote the book � a height from which i have since fallen i m sorry to hear this he answered with twinkling eyes � from what you say it appears to me you have been guilty of literary oh bad very bad nothing can be worse to write is a grievous sin and one which critics never forgive i m really grieved for you my friend � i never thought your case was quite so desperate i laughed in spite of my depression you are i said � but your cheerfulness is very all i wanted to explain to you is this � that my book expresses a certain tone of thought which to be is not me � in short i in my present self have no sympathy with it i must have changed very much since i wrote it changed why yes i should think so and laughed heartily � the possession of five millions is bound to change a man considerably for the better � or worse but you seem to be worrying yourself most about nothing not one author in many centuries writes from his own heart or as he truly feels � when he does he becomes well nigh immortal this planet is too limited to hold more than one the sorrows of satan one one shakespeare don t distress yourself � you are neither of these three you belong to the age tempest � it is a age and most things connected with it are and any era that is by the love of money only has a rotten core within it and must perish all history tells us so but no one the lesson of history observe the signs of the lime � art is made to the love of money � literature politics and religion the same � you cannot escape from the general disease the only thing to do is to make the best of it � no one can reform it � least of all you who have so much of the given to your share he paused � i was silent watching the bright fire glow and the dropping red what i am going to say now he proceeded in soft almost melancholy accents � will sound � still it has the perverse of truth about it it is this � in order to write with intense feelings you must first feel very likely when you wrote this book of yours you were almost a human hedge in the way of feeling every point of you was erect and to the touch of all influences pleasant or the reverse imaginative or this is a condition which some people envy and others would rather dispense with now that you as a hedge have no further need for either alarm indignation or self defence your are soothed into an agreeable and you partially cease to feel that is all the change you complain of is thus accounted for � you have nothing to feel about � hence you cannot comprehend how it was that you ever felt i was conscious of irritation at the calm conviction of his tone do you take me for such a creature as all that i exclaimed � you are mistaken in me i feel most keenly what do you feel he inquired fixing his eyes steadily � the sorrows of satan upon me � there are hundreds of starving wretches in this metropolis � men and women on the brink of suicide because they have no hope of anything in this world or the next and no sympathy from their kind � do you feel for them do their affect you you know they do not � you know you never think of them � why should you one of the chief advantages of wealth is the ability it gives us to shut out other people s miseries from our personal consideration i said nothing � for the first time my spirit at the truth of his words principally because they were true alas � if i had only known then what i know now yesterday he went on in the same quiet voice � a child was run over here just opposite this hotel it was only poor child � mark that only its mother ran shrieking out of some back street hard by in time to see the little bleeding body up in a heap she struck wildly with both hands at the men who were trying to lead her away and with a cry like that of some hurt savage animal fell face forward in the mud � dead she was only a poor woman � another only there were three lines in the paper about it headed sad incident the hotel porter here witnessed the scene from the door with as composed a as that of a at the play never the serene majesty of his attitude � but about ten minutes after the dead body of the woman had been carried out of sight he the imperial being became almost backed in his haste to run and open the door of your my dear as you drove up to the entrance this is a little of life as it is lived now a days � and yet the swear we are all equal in the sight of heaven we may be though it does not look much like it � and if we are it does not matter as we have ceased to care how heaven regards us i don 