He had done well at the University, and was inclined to be philosophical, for he knew little of himself and nothing of the world.

There were times when he allowed himself to be supercilious and sarcastic; but it was not for an occasional jingle of cleverness the people loved him, or, for that matter, any other man.
It was his humanity that won their hearts, and this he had partly from his mother, partly from his training.

Through a kind providence and his mother's countryness, he had been brought up among animals--birds, mice, dormice, guinea-pigs, rabbits, dogs, cattle, horses, till he knew all their ways, and loved God's creatures as did St.Francis d'Assisi, to whom every creature of God was dear, from Sister Swallow to Brother Wolf.

So he learned, as he grew older, to love men and women and little children, even although they might be ugly, or stupid, or bad-tempered, or even wicked, and this sympathy cleansed away many a little fault of pride and self-conceit and impatience and hot temper, and in the end of the days made a man of John Carmichael.

The dumb animals had an instinct about this young fellow, and would make overtures to him that were a certificate for any situation requiring character.