of hope is diplomatic; to trust to their gratitude is boorish; hope has a good memory, gratitude a bad one”?  There is much more of this kind; but after the assurance that only a boorish person (that is to say, an ignorant and vulgar man) can believe in gratitude, the author’s opinion of human nature needs no further elucidation.  The old Norseman would have been shocked at such a statement.  But he might have approved the following:  “When you hear anything favourable, keep a tight rein upon your credulity; if unfavourable, give it the spur.”  That is to say, when you hear anything good about another man, do not be ready to believe it; but if you hear anything bad about him, believe as much of it as you can.

I notice also many other points of resemblance between the Northern and the Spanish teaching in regard to caution.  The “Havamal” says that you must not pick a quarrel with a worse man than yourself; “because the better man often falls by the worse man’s sword.”  The Spanish priest gives a still shrewder reason for the same policy.  “Never contend,” he says, “with a man who has nothing to lose; for thereby you enter into an unequal conflict.  The other enters without anxiety; having lost everything, including shame, he has no further loss to fear.”  I think that this is an immoral teaching, though a very prudent one; but I need scarcely to tell you that it is still a principle in modern society not to contend with a man who has no reputation to lose.  I think it is immoral, because it is purely selfish, and because a good man ought not to be afraid to denounce a wrong because of making enemies.  Another point, however, on which the “Havamal” and the priest agree, is more commendable and interesting.  “We do not think much of a man who never contradicts us; that is no sign he loves us, but rather a sign that he loves himself.  Original and out-of-the-way views are signs of superior ability.”

I should not like you to suppose, however, that the whole of the book from which I have been quoting is of the same character as the quotations.  There is excellent advice in it; and much kindly teaching on the subject of generous acts.  It is a book both good and bad, and never stupid.  The same man who tells you that friendship is seldom unselfish, also declares that life would be a desert without friends, and that there is no magic like a good turn—­that is, a kind act.  He teaches the importance of getting good will by honest means, although he advises us also to learn how to injure.  I am sure that nobody could read the book without benefit.  And I may close these quotations from it with the following paragraph, which is the very best bit of counsel that could be given to a literary student: