Indeed their eyes have not met since by the river
Those wondrous moments
Linked them to earth and night, not to each other.
They look askance,—“Good-night”—the front door closed.
They do not meet again except by chance.
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Wanted: Some Imaginative Reason
“Nietzsche was an individualist, a hater of the State and of the Prussians, a sick man, a great artist in words to be read with delight and—your tongue in your cheek.” This is from John Galsworthy’s “Second Thoughts on this War” in the January Scribner’s. And so it goes on: he identifies Nietzsche with the new German philosophy (which the poor man would have hated as he did Prussianism), he talks of the Will to Power and the Will to Love as two forces at opposite poles (quite in the manner of the Chestertons), and he derides Shaw’s clear-headed understanding that there is no real struggle of ideals involved in the war as the statement of a brilliant intellect with “no flair, no feelers, none of that instinctive perception of the essence and atmosphere of things which is a so much surer guide than reason.” These things are heart-breaking. If the artists can not understand the prophets of their time why should we expect the masses to do so?