"I doubt it!" he answered--"I very much doubt it. It will be received with a certain amount of favour of course, as a production of a rich man amusing himself with literature as a sort of whim. But, as I told you before, genius seldom develops itself under the influence of wealth. Then again 'swagger' folks can never get it out of their fuddled heads that Literature belongs to Grub Street. Great poets, great philosophers, great romancists are always vaguely alluded to by 'swagger' society as 'those sort of people.' Those sort of people are so 'interesting' say the blue-blooded noodles deprecatingly, excusing themselves as it were for knowing any members of the class literary. You can fancy a 'swagger' lady of Elizabeth's time asking a friend--'O do you mind, my dear, if I bring one Master William Shakespeare to see you? He writes plays, and does something or other at the _Globe_ theatre,--in fact I'm afraid he acts a little--he's not very well off poor man,--but _these sort of people_ are always so amusing!' Now you, my dear Tempest, are not a Shakespeare, but your millions will give you a better chance than he ever had in his life-time, as you will not have to sue for patronage, or practise a reverence for 'my lord' or 'my lady,'--these exalted personages will be only too delighted to borrow money of you if you will lend it." "I shall not lend,"--I said. "Nor give?" "Nor give." His keen eyes flashed approval. "I am very glad," he observed, "that you are determined not to 'go about doing good' as the canting humbugs say, with your money. You are wise. Spend on yourself,--because your very act of spending cannot but benefit others through various channels. Now I pursue a different course. I always help charities, and put my name on subscription-lists,--and I never fail to assist a certain portion of clergy." "I rather wonder at that--" I remarked--"Especially as you tell me you are not a Christian." "Yes,--it does seem strange,--doesn't it?"--he said with an extraordinary accent of what might be termed apologetic derision--"But perhaps you don't look at it in the proper light. Many of the clergy are doing their utmost best to _destroy_ religion,--by cant, by hypocrisy, by sensuality, by shams of every description,--and when they seek my help in this noble work, I give it,--freely!" I laughed "You must have your joke evidently"--I said, throwing the end of my finished cigar into the fire--"And I see you are fond of satirizing your own good actions. Hullo, what's this?" For at that moment Amiel entered, bearing a telegram for me on a silver salver. I opened it,--it was from my friend the publisher, and ran as follows-- "Accept book with pleasure. Send manuscript immediately." I showed this to Rimânez with a kind of triumph. He smiled.