Mr. Creswell, of Woolgreaves, had entertained a sincere regard, built
on profound respect, for Mr. Ashurst. He knew the inferiority of his
own mind, and his own education, to those of the man who had
contentedly and laboriously filled so humble a position--one so
unworthy of his talents, as well as he knew the superiority of his own
business abilities, the difference which had made him a rich man, and
which would, under any circumstances, have kept Mr. Ashurst poor. He
was a man possessed of much candour of mind and sound judgment; and
though he preferred, quite sincerely, the practical ability which had
made him what he was, and heartily enjoyed all the material advantages
and pleasures of his life, he was capable of profound admiration for
such unattainable things as taste, learning, and the indefinable moral
and personal elements which combine to form a scholar and a gentleman.
He was a commonplace man in every other respect than this, that he
most sincerely despised and detested flattery, and was incapable of
being deceived by it. He had not failed to understand that it would
have been as impossible to James Ashurst to flatter as to rob him; and
for this reason, as well as for the superiority he had so fully
recognised, he had felt warm and abiding friendship for him, and
lamented his death, as he had not mourned any accident of mortality
since the day which had seen his pretty young wife laid in her early
grave. Mr. Creswell, a poor man in those days, struggling manfully
very far down on the ladder, which he had since climbed with the ease
which not unfrequently attends effort, when something has happened to
decrease the value of success, had loved his pretty, uneducated, merry
little wife very much, and had felt for a while after she died, that
he was not sure whether anything was worth working or striving for.
But his constitutional activity of mind and body had got the better of
that sort of feeling, and he had worked and striven to remarkably
good purpose; but he had never asked another woman to share his
fortunes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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