London Is A Huge Shop,

This Writer, Who Is Horribly Perspicacious And Vigorous, Demonstrates The Certainty Of A Great European War, And Regards It With The Peculiar Satisfaction Excited By Such Things In A Certain Order Of Mind. His Phrases About "dire Calamity" And So On Mean Nothing; The Whole Tenor Of His Writing Proves That He Represents, And Consciously, One Of The Forces Which Go To Bring War About; His Part In The Business Is A Fluent Irresponsibility, Which Casts Scorn On All Who Reluct At The "inevitable." Persistent Prophecy Is A Familiar Way Of Assuring The Event.

It Is Because Nations Tend Towards Stupidity And Baseness That Mankind Moves So Slowly; It Is Because Individuals Have A Capacity For Better Things That It Moves At All.

For One Thing, I Know Every Book Of Mine By Its Scent.

Money Is Made At Christmas Out Of Holly And Mistletoe, But Who Save The Vendors Would Greatly Care If No Green Branch Were Procurable? One Symbol, Indeed, Has Obscured All Others-the Minted Round Of Metal. And One May Safely Say That, Of All The Ages Since A Coin First Became The Symbol Of Power, Ours Is That In Which It Yields To The Majority Of Its Possessors The Poorest Return In Heart's Contentment.

It Is The Mind Which Creates The World Around Us, And Even Though We Stand Side By Side In The Same Meadow, My Eyes Will Never See What Is Beheld By Yours, My Heart Will Never Stir To The Emotions With Which Yours Is Touched.