All rights reserved—no part of this
book may be reproduced in any form
without permission in writing from
the publisher.

Set up and printed. Published September, 1930.

· PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ·

CONTENTS

PAGE
Sunrise[3]
Molasses[8]
Resolutions When I Come to Be Old[14]
English and American Humour[20]
A Pair of Socks[26]
An Inspiring Cemetery[31]
Ancient Football[35]
Rivers[39]
One Day at a Time[45]
City and Country[51]
Age Before Beauty[57]
Church Unity[63]
Political History[68]
A Room Without a View[74]
Tea[80]
The Weather[86]
War[91]
Man and Boy[96]
Ambition[101]
Birds and Statesmen[107]
Russia Before the Revolution[113]
The Devil[119]
The Forsyte Saga[124]
Profession and Practice[130]
London as a Summer Resort[135]
What the Man Will Wear[140]
Dreams[146]
Eating Breakfast[151]
The Mother Tongue[157]
Our South as Cure for Flu[163]
Going to Church in Paris[169]
Optimism and Pessimism[175]
Translations[180]
Music of the Spheres[185]
Dog Books[190]
Going to Honolulu[196]
Hymns[201]
Old-Fashioned Snobs[207]
A Fair City[212]
Traditions[218]
Spooks[224]
Trial by Jury[230]
Athletics[235]
A Private Library All Your Own[240]
The Greatest Common Divisor[246]
The Great American Game[252]
Ten Sixty-Six[258]
Going Abroad the First Time[264]
Spiritual Healing[269]
Superstition[274]
The Importance of the Earth[279]
What Shall I Think About?[285]

ESSAYS ON THINGS

I
SUNRISE

At an uncertain hour before dawn in February 1912, as I lay asleep in my room on the top floor of a hotel in the town of Mentone, in Southern France, I was suddenly awakened by the morning star. It was shining with inquisitive splendour directly into my left eye. At that quiet moment, in the last stages of the dying night, this star seemed enormous. It hung out of the velvet sky so far that I thought it was going to fall, and I went out on the balcony of my room to see it drop. The air was windless and mild, and, instead of going back to bed, I decided to stay on the balcony and watch the unfolding drama of the dawn. For every clear dawn in this spectacular universe is a magnificent drama, rising to a superb climax.

The morning stars sang together and I heard the sons of God shouting for joy. The chief morning star, the one that had roused me from slumber, recited a splendid prologue. Then, as the night paled and the lesser stars withdrew, some of the minor characters in the play began to appear and take their respective parts. The grey background turned red, then gold. Long shafts of preliminary light shot up from the eastern horizon, and then, when the stage was all set, and the minor characters had completed their assigned rôles, the curtains suddenly parted and the sun—the Daystar—the star of the play, entered with all the panoply of majesty. And as I stood there and beheld this incomparable spectacle, and gazed over the mountains, the meadows and the sea, the words of Shakespeare came into my mind:

Full many a glorious morning have I seen,