The case of my friend Perry is, I must admit, complicated by the fact that he does add greatly to the happiness of any circle of which he is a member; he is an admirable listener and a sympathetic talker.  But if Egeria desires to make a Numa of him, and to inspire him with her own gentle wisdom, let her convince him quietly that he does owe a duty to society, and not censure him before his friends.  If Egeria, in her own inimitable way, would say to him that the lives of academical ladies were apt to be dull, and that it was a matter of graceful chivalry for him to brighten the horizon, why, Perry could not resist her.  But chivalry is a thing which must be courteously and generously conceded, and must never be pettishly claimed; and indeed I do not want Perry interfered with in this matter:  he fills a very peculiar niche, he is a lodestar to enthusiastic undergraduates; he is the joy of sober common-rooms.  I wish with all my heart that the convenances of life permitted Egeria herself to stray into those book-lined rooms, dim with tobacco-smoke, to warble and sing to the accompaniment of Perry’s cracked piano, to take her place among the casual company.  But as Egeria cannot go to Perry, and as Perry will not go to Egeria, they must respect each other from a distance, and do their best alone.

And, after all, simple, sincere, and kindly persons are apt to find, as Stevenson wisely said, their circle ready-made.  The only people who cannot get the friends and companions they want are those who petulantly claim attention; and the worst error of all consists in mistaking the gentle pleasures of life, such as society and intercourse, for the duties of life, and of codifying and formalizing them.  For myself, I wish with all my heart that I had Perry’s power; I wish that those throngs of young men would feel impelled to come in and talk to me, easily and simply.  I have, it is true, several faithful friends, but very few of them will come except in response to a definite invitation; and really, if they do not want to come, I do not at all wish to force them to do so.  It might amuse me; but if it amused them, they would come:  as they do not come, I am quite ready to conclude that it does not amuse them.  I am as conscious as every one else of the exquisitely stimulating and entertaining character of my own talk; it constantly pains me that so few people take advantage of their opportunities of visiting the healing fount.  But the fact is incontestable that my talents are not appreciated at their right value; and I must be content with such slender encouragement as I receive.  In vain do I purchase choice brands of cigars and cigarettes, and load my side-table with the best Scotch whisky.  Not eyen with that solace will the vagrant undergraduate consent to be douched under the stream of my suggestive conversation.