met me in a drawing-room, and I had been introduced to you by an old woman, it would have been a matter of course: can the division of two or three walls, and the absence of an unimportant personage, make the same object essentially different in the perception of a philosopher?"
"Certainly not," said Scythrop; "but when any class of objects has habitually presented itself to our perceptions, in invariable conjunction with particular relations, then, on the sudden appearance of one object of the class, divested of those accompaniments, the essential difference of the relation is, by an involuntary process, transferred to the object itself, which thus offers itself to our perceptions with all the strangeness of novelty."
"You are a philosopher," said the lady, "and a lover of liberty. You are the au-
