Mr. Britling was one of the representative thinkers upon which society decided to inform itself. He did not appear like one would think such a distinguished English gentleman should. His mustache, his hair, his eyebrows bristled; his flaming freckled face seemed about to bristle, too. His little hazel eyes came out with a "ping." Mr. Britling was one of a large, but remarkable, class of people who seem at the mere approach of photography to change their hair, their clothes, their moral natures. No photographer had ever caught a hint of his essential Britlingness or bristlingness, but H.G. Wells certainly does in this fabulous novel.