Мидлмарч

           ’Anduponmyword,IthoughtFlavelllookedverylittlelike‘thehigheststyleofman’—assomebodycallstheChristian—Young,thepoetYoung,Ithink—youknowYoung?Well,now,Flavellinhisshabbyblackgaiters,pleadingthathethoughttheLordhadsenthimandhiswifeagooddinner,andhehadarighttoknockitdown,thoughnotamightyhunterbeforetheLord,asNimrodwas—Iassureyouitwasrathercomic:Fieldingwouldhavemadesomethingofit—orScott,now—Scottmighthaveworkeditup.Butreally,whenIcametothinkofit,Icouldn’thelplikingthatthefellowshouldhaveabitofharetosaygraceover.It’sallamatterofprejudice—prejudicewiththelawonitsside,youknow—aboutthestickandthegaiters,andsoon.However,itdoesn’tdotoreasonaboutthings;andlawislaw.ButIgotJohnsontobequiet,andIhushedthematterup.IdoubtwhetherChettamwouldnothavebeenmoresevere,andyethecomesdownonmeasifIwerethehardestmaninthecounty.ButhereweareatDagley’s."

           Mr.Brookegotdownatafarmyard-gate,andDorotheadroveon.Itiswonderfulhowmuchuglierthingswilllookwhenweonlysuspectthatweareblamedforthem.Evenourownpersonsintheglassareapttochangetheiraspectforusafterwehaveheardsomefrankremarkontheirlessadmirablepoints;andontheotherhanditisastonishinghowpleasantlyconsciencetakesourencroachmentsonthosewhonevercomplainorhavenobodytocomplainforthem.