Courier; the whole house is at the service of my best of friends! He keeps his hand upon the carriage-door, and asks some other question to enhance the expectation. He carries a green leathern purse outside his coat, suspended by a belt. The idlers look at it; one touches it. It is full of five-franc pieces. Murmurs of admiration are heard among the boys. The landlord falls upon the Courier's neck, and folds him to his breast. He is so much fatter than he was, he says! He looks so rosy and so well!
The door is opened. Breathless expectation. The lady of the family gets out. Ah sweet lady! Beautiful lady! The sister of the lady of the family gets out. Great Heaven, Ma'amselle is charming! First little boy gets out. Ah, what a beautiful little boy! First little girl gets out. Oh, but this is an enchanting child! Second little girl gets out. The landlady, yielding to the finest impulse of our common nature, catches her up in her arms! Second little boy gets out. Oh, the sweet boy! Oh, the tender little fa
he had to change and diminish his demands and finally, when he was dangerously near a disclosure, he was saved by the Sultan's transferring his interest to the French and obtaining his funds from them. With Kaiser Wilhelm, he soon appreciated the fact that he had to deal with a great theatrical personality who spoke of plans and purpose with great fire, but had no courage and whose convictions melted away in the face of obstacles.
The world Herzl dealt with has passed away. The Turkish Empire now occupies a small part of the Near East. Its former provinces have now become "sovereign" states struggling to establish harmony between themselves and feeding on their animus towards the Jewish people returning home. The methods of diplomacy have changed. Loudness of speech is no longer out of order. Frankness and brutality may be expected at any international gathering. It is now felt as never before that behind political leaders, rulers, princes, statesmen, the people are advancing and soon will be able to
Before either could answer, bombs were falling on all sides of thehospital. "There they are!" I exclaimed. Not yet realizing howdangerous the bombs could be, we casually walked to the windows andwatched the tremendous explosions moving across the camp-towardheadquarters-raising clouds of dust to the rooftops. The war arrivedat Camp John Hay at 0809 hours, Dec. 8, 1941. Between twenty andtwenty-five twin-engine bombers were overhead in a diamond formation.Soon some 150 bombs of various sizes were bringing disability anddeath to many of our soldiers-drilling on the parade ground-and totheir families in their small homes. It seemed unreal that Camp Haycould be the first target of the Japanese bombers, actually startingWorld War II in the Philippines.
Where were our American planes? We probably did just what the Japaneseplanned that we would. We called Clark Air Field-about one-hundredmiles to the southwest, and told them, "Camp John Hay is being bombed!Get some fighters up here, and keep tho
of sense is but a small part of the pleasure he actually experiences.That pleasure, as a whole, is a highly complex thing, and rests mainlyon a basis that, by a little knowledge, could be annihilated in amoment. Tell the boy what the champagne really is, he has been praising;and the state of his mind and face will undergo a curioustransformation. Our sense of the worth of life is similar in itscomplexity to the boy's sense of the worth of his wine. Beliefs andassociations play exactly the same part in it. The beliefs in this lastcase may of course be truer. The question that I have to ask is, arethey? In some individual cases certainly, they have not been. MissHarriet Martineau, for instance, judging life from her own experience ofit, was quite persuaded that it was a most solemn and satisfactorything, and she has told the world as much, in no hesitating manner. Buta part at least of the solemn satisfaction she felt in it was due to agrotesque over-estimate of her own social and intellectual importance.Here, then, was a worth in life, real enough to the person who found it,but which a little knowledge of the world would have at once taken awayfrom her. Does the general reverence with which life is at presentregarded rest in any degree upon any similar misconception? And if so,to what extent does it? Will it fall to pieces before the breath of alarger knowledge? or has it that firm foundation in fact that willenable it to survive in spite of all enlightenment, and perhaps even toincrease in consequence of it?
Such is the outline of the question I propose to deal with.
For its being a little gloomy, he had hired it principally for the gardens, and he and my mistress would pass the summer weather in their shade.
'So all goes well, Baptista?' said he.
'Indubitably, signore; very well.'
We had a travelling chariot for our journey, newly built for us, and in all respects complete. All we had was complete; we wanted for nothing. The marriage took place. They were happy. I was happy, seeing all so bright, being so well situated, going to my own city, teaching my language in the rumble to the maid, la bella Carolina, whose heart was gay with laughter: who was young and rosy.
The time flew. But I observed - listen to this, I pray! (and here the courier dropped his voice) - I observed my mistress sometimes brooding in a manner very strange; in a frightened manner; in an unhappy manner; with a cloudy, uncertain alarm upon her. I think that I began to notice this when I was walking up hills by the carriage side, and master had gone on in front. At any rate
nter's chill had not yet gone out of the air. But then, Willard had earned his ducking.
The girl cleared her throat. "We have had an accident," she informed the rider, her voice a little husky.
At this word he swept his hat from his head and bowed to her. "Why, I reckon you have, ma'am," he said. "Didn't you have no driver?"
"Why, yes," returned the girl hesitatingly, for she thought she detected sarcasm in his voice, and she had to look twice at him to make sure--and then she couldn't have told. "The gentleman on the bank, there, is our driver."
"The gentleman on the bank, eh?" drawled the rider. And now for the first time he seemed to become aware of Willard's presence, for he looked narrowly at him. "Why, he's all wet!" he exclaimed. "I expect he come pretty near drownin', didn't he, ma'am?" He looked again at the girl, astonishment in his eyes. "An' so he drove you into that suck-hole, an' he got throwed out! Wasn't there no one to tell him that Calamity ain't to be trusted?"
, was as it had always been.
"'You will want to see Paris--the Paris of our time, Henri?' asked Rastin.
"'But it is different--terrible--' I said.
"'We'll take you,' Thicourt said, 'but first your clothes--'
"He got a long light coat that they had me put on, that covered my tunic and hose, and a hat of grotesque round shape that they put on my head. They led me then out of the building and into the street.
"I gazed astoundedly along that street. It had a raised walk at either side, on which many hundreds of people moved to and fro, all dressed in as strange a fashion. Many, like Rastin and Thicourt, seemed of gentle blood, yet, in spite of this, they did not wear a sword or even a dagger. There were no knights or squires, or priests or peasants. All seemed dressed much the same.
"Small lads ran to and fro selling what seemed sheets of very thin white parchment, many times folded and covered with lettering. Rastin said that these had written in them all things that had
Courier; the whole house is at the service of my best of friends! He keeps his hand upon the carriage-door, and asks some other question to enhance the expectation. He carries a green leathern purse outside his coat, suspended by a belt. The idlers look at it; one touches it. It is full of five-franc pieces. Murmurs of admiration are heard among the boys. The landlord falls upon the Courier's neck, and folds him to his breast. He is so much fatter than he was, he says! He looks so rosy and so well!
The door is opened. Breathless expectation. The lady of the family gets out. Ah sweet lady! Beautiful lady! The sister of the lady of the family gets out. Great Heaven, Ma'amselle is charming! First little boy gets out. Ah, what a beautiful little boy! First little girl gets out. Oh, but this is an enchanting child! Second little girl gets out. The landlady, yielding to the finest impulse of our common nature, catches her up in her arms! Second little boy gets out. Oh, the sweet boy! Oh, the tender little fa
he had to change and diminish his demands and finally, when he was dangerously near a disclosure, he was saved by the Sultan's transferring his interest to the French and obtaining his funds from them. With Kaiser Wilhelm, he soon appreciated the fact that he had to deal with a great theatrical personality who spoke of plans and purpose with great fire, but had no courage and whose convictions melted away in the face of obstacles.
The world Herzl dealt with has passed away. The Turkish Empire now occupies a small part of the Near East. Its former provinces have now become "sovereign" states struggling to establish harmony between themselves and feeding on their animus towards the Jewish people returning home. The methods of diplomacy have changed. Loudness of speech is no longer out of order. Frankness and brutality may be expected at any international gathering. It is now felt as never before that behind political leaders, rulers, princes, statesmen, the people are advancing and soon will be able to
Before either could answer, bombs were falling on all sides of thehospital. "There they are!" I exclaimed. Not yet realizing howdangerous the bombs could be, we casually walked to the windows andwatched the tremendous explosions moving across the camp-towardheadquarters-raising clouds of dust to the rooftops. The war arrivedat Camp John Hay at 0809 hours, Dec. 8, 1941. Between twenty andtwenty-five twin-engine bombers were overhead in a diamond formation.Soon some 150 bombs of various sizes were bringing disability anddeath to many of our soldiers-drilling on the parade ground-and totheir families in their small homes. It seemed unreal that Camp Haycould be the first target of the Japanese bombers, actually startingWorld War II in the Philippines.
Where were our American planes? We probably did just what the Japaneseplanned that we would. We called Clark Air Field-about one-hundredmiles to the southwest, and told them, "Camp John Hay is being bombed!Get some fighters up here, and keep tho
of sense is but a small part of the pleasure he actually experiences.That pleasure, as a whole, is a highly complex thing, and rests mainlyon a basis that, by a little knowledge, could be annihilated in amoment. Tell the boy what the champagne really is, he has been praising;and the state of his mind and face will undergo a curioustransformation. Our sense of the worth of life is similar in itscomplexity to the boy's sense of the worth of his wine. Beliefs andassociations play exactly the same part in it. The beliefs in this lastcase may of course be truer. The question that I have to ask is, arethey? In some individual cases certainly, they have not been. MissHarriet Martineau, for instance, judging life from her own experience ofit, was quite persuaded that it was a most solemn and satisfactorything, and she has told the world as much, in no hesitating manner. Buta part at least of the solemn satisfaction she felt in it was due to agrotesque over-estimate of her own social and intellectual importance.Here, then, was a worth in life, real enough to the person who found it,but which a little knowledge of the world would have at once taken awayfrom her. Does the general reverence with which life is at presentregarded rest in any degree upon any similar misconception? And if so,to what extent does it? Will it fall to pieces before the breath of alarger knowledge? or has it that firm foundation in fact that willenable it to survive in spite of all enlightenment, and perhaps even toincrease in consequence of it?
Such is the outline of the question I propose to deal with.
For its being a little gloomy, he had hired it principally for the gardens, and he and my mistress would pass the summer weather in their shade.
'So all goes well, Baptista?' said he.
'Indubitably, signore; very well.'
We had a travelling chariot for our journey, newly built for us, and in all respects complete. All we had was complete; we wanted for nothing. The marriage took place. They were happy. I was happy, seeing all so bright, being so well situated, going to my own city, teaching my language in the rumble to the maid, la bella Carolina, whose heart was gay with laughter: who was young and rosy.
The time flew. But I observed - listen to this, I pray! (and here the courier dropped his voice) - I observed my mistress sometimes brooding in a manner very strange; in a frightened manner; in an unhappy manner; with a cloudy, uncertain alarm upon her. I think that I began to notice this when I was walking up hills by the carriage side, and master had gone on in front. At any rate
nter's chill had not yet gone out of the air. But then, Willard had earned his ducking.
The girl cleared her throat. "We have had an accident," she informed the rider, her voice a little husky.
At this word he swept his hat from his head and bowed to her. "Why, I reckon you have, ma'am," he said. "Didn't you have no driver?"
"Why, yes," returned the girl hesitatingly, for she thought she detected sarcasm in his voice, and she had to look twice at him to make sure--and then she couldn't have told. "The gentleman on the bank, there, is our driver."
"The gentleman on the bank, eh?" drawled the rider. And now for the first time he seemed to become aware of Willard's presence, for he looked narrowly at him. "Why, he's all wet!" he exclaimed. "I expect he come pretty near drownin', didn't he, ma'am?" He looked again at the girl, astonishment in his eyes. "An' so he drove you into that suck-hole, an' he got throwed out! Wasn't there no one to tell him that Calamity ain't to be trusted?"
, was as it had always been.
"'You will want to see Paris--the Paris of our time, Henri?' asked Rastin.
"'But it is different--terrible--' I said.
"'We'll take you,' Thicourt said, 'but first your clothes--'
"He got a long light coat that they had me put on, that covered my tunic and hose, and a hat of grotesque round shape that they put on my head. They led me then out of the building and into the street.
"I gazed astoundedly along that street. It had a raised walk at either side, on which many hundreds of people moved to and fro, all dressed in as strange a fashion. Many, like Rastin and Thicourt, seemed of gentle blood, yet, in spite of this, they did not wear a sword or even a dagger. There were no knights or squires, or priests or peasants. All seemed dressed much the same.
"Small lads ran to and fro selling what seemed sheets of very thin white parchment, many times folded and covered with lettering. Rastin said that these had written in them all things that had