You would not think it wrong, for instance, to criticise books?” “No,” said my companion, “certainly not.  I think that it is not only legitimate, but a duty, to bring one’s critical faculties to bear on books; it is one of the most valuable methods of self-education.”  “And yet books are nothing but an expression of an author’s personality,” I said.  “Would you go so far as to say that one has no business to criticise one’s friends’ books?” “You are only arguing for the sake of arguing,” said my companion.  “With books it is quite different; they are a public expression of a man’s opinions, and consequently they are submitted to the world for criticism.”  “I confess,” I said, “that I do not think the distinction is a real one.  I feel sure one has a right to criticise a man’s opinions, delivered in conversation; and I think that much of our lives is nothing but a more or less public expression of ourselves.  Your position seems to me no more reasonable than if a man was to say:  ’I look upon the whole world, and all that is in it, as the work of God; and I am not in a position to criticise any of the works of God.’  If one may not criticise the character of a friend whom one esteems and loves, surely, a fortiori, we ought not to criticise anything in the world at all.  The whole of ethics, the whole of religion, is nothing else than bringing our critical faculties to bear upon actions and qualities; and it seems to me that if our critical faculty means anything at all, we are bound to apply it to all the phenomena we see about us.”  My companion said disdainfully that I was indulging in the merest sophistry, and that he thought that we had better go to bed, which we presently did.

I have, since this conversation, been reflecting about the whole subject, and I am not inclined to admit that my companion was right.  In the first place, if every one were to follow the principle that one had no business to criticise one’s friends, it would end in being deplorably dull.  Imagine the appalling ponderosity of a conversation in which one felt bound to praise every one who was mentioned.  Think of the insensate chorus which would arise.  “How tall and stately A——­ is!  How sturdy and compact B——­ is!  Then there is dear C——­; how wise, judicious, prudent, and sensible!  And the excellent D——­, what candour, what impulsiveness!  E——­, how worthy, how business-like!  Yes, how true that is!  How thankful we should be for the examples of A——­, B——­, C——­, D——­, and E——!” A very little of such conversation would go a long way.  How it would refresh and invigorate the mind!  What a field for humour and subtlety it would open up!