For My Part, The Good Novel Of

The Great Dividing Line Between Books That Are Made To Be Read And Books That Are Made To Be Bought Is Not The Purely Modern Thing It Seems. We Can Trace It, If We Try, Back To The First Printing-presses.

The Cure-alls Of The Present Day Are Infinitely Various And Infinitely Obliging. Applied Psychology, Autosuggestion, And Royal Roads To Learning Or To Wealth Are Urged Upon Us By Kindly, If Not Altogether Disinterested, Reformers. Simple And Easy Systems For The Dissolution Of Discord And Strife; Simple And Easy Systems For The Development Of Personality And Power. Booklets Of Counsel On 'how To Get What We Want,' Which Is Impossible; Booklets On 'visualization,' Warranted To Make Us Want What We Get, Which Is Ignoble.

Our Dogs Will Love And Admire The Meanest Of Us, And Feed Our Colossal Vanity With Their Uncritical Homage.

The Vanity Of Man Revolts From The Serene Indifference Of The Cat.

An Appreciation Of Words Is So Rare That Everybody Naturally Thinks He Possesses It, And This Universal Sentiment Results In The Misuse Of A Material Whose Beauty Enriches The Loving Student Beyond The Dreams Of Avarice.