It gives us a new scale of measurement and a new order of ideas. Even
the war seems only a local affair of some ill-governed asylum in the
presence of this ordered march of illimitable worlds. I do not worry about
the vision; I do not badger the stars to give me their views about the war.
It is enough to see and feel and be silent.
And now I hope Althea will waste no more postage stamps in sending me her
desecrating gibberish.
ON BLACK SHEEP
When I was in France a few weeks ago I heard much about the relative
qualities of different classes of men as soldiers. And one of the most
frequent themes was the excellence of the "black sheep." It was not merely
that he was brave. That one might expect. It was not even that he was
unselfish. That also did not arouse surprise. The pride in him, I found,
was chiefly due to the fact that he was so good a soldier in the sense of
discipline, enthusiasm, keenness, even intelligence. It is, I believe, a
well-ascertained fact that an unusually high proportion of reformatory boys
and other socially doubtful men have won rewards for exceptional deeds, and
every one knows the case of the man with twenty-seven convictions against
him who won the V.
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