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"
I do not know. A sort of scholar, whom I feed."
Thus converse these idiots, without even lowering their voice. You hear,
and remain mechanically amiable. If you are ill, your masters will send
for the doctor--not their own. Occasionally they may even inquire after
you. Being of a different species from you, and at an inaccessible
height above you, they are affable. Their height makes them easy. They
know that equality is impossible. By force of disdain they are polite.
At table they give you a little nod. Sometimes they absolutely know how
your name is spelt! They only show that they are your protectors by
walking unconsciously over all the delicacy and susceptibility you
possess. They treat you with good-nature. Is all this to be borne?
No doubt he was eager to punish Josiana. He must teach her with whom she
had to deal!
O my rich gentry, because you cannot eat up everything, because opulence
produces indigestion seeing that your stomachs are no bigger than ours,
because it is, after all, better to distribute the remainder than to
throw it away, you exalt a morsel flung to the poor into an act of
magnificence. Oh, you give us bread, you give us shelter, you give us
clothes, you give us employment, and you push audacity, folly, cruelty,
stupidity, and absurdity to the pitch of believing that we are grateful!
The bread is the bread of servitude, the shelter is a footman's bedroom,
the clothes are a livery, the employment is ridiculous, paid for, it is
true, but brutalizing.
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