Looking back the little distance that our dim eyes
can penetrate the past, what do we find? Civilizations, built up
with infinite care, swept aside and lost. Beliefs for which men
lived and died, proved to be mockeries. Greek Art crushed to the
dust by Gothic bludgeons. Dreams of fraternity, drowned in blood by
a Napoleon. What is left to us, but the hope that the work itself,
not the result, is the real monument? Maybe, we are as children,
asking, "Of what use are these lessons? What good will they ever be
to us?" But there comes a day when the lad understands why he
learnt grammar and geography, when even dates have a meaning for
him. But this is not until he has left school, and gone out into
the wider world. So, perhaps, when we are a little more grown up,
we too may begin to understand the reason for our living.
ON THE CARE AND MANAGEMENT OF WOMEN
I talked to a woman once on the subject of honeymoons. I said,
"Would you recommend a long honeymoon, or a Saturday to Monday
somewhere?" A silence fell upon her. I gathered she was looking
back rather than forward to her answer.
"I would advise a long honeymoon," she replied at length, "the
old-fashioned month.
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