accord them perfect satisfaction; they were supplied with their convictions by Society just as, when at home, they were supplied with all the other necessaries of life by some co-operative stores.

"Why should Oi give up me only pleasure to keep me wretched life in? If you've anything left worth the keeping shober for, keep shober by all means; if not, the sooner you are dhrunk the better—that stands to reason."

These letters of his were the most amazing portion of that fortnight. They were remarkable for failing to express any single one of his real thoughts, but they were full of sentiments which were not what he was truly feeling; and when he set himself to analyse, he had such moments of delirium that he was scared, and shocked, and quite unable to write anything. He made the discovery that no two human beings ever tell each other what they really feel.

There was nothing in that book to startle him or make him think.

And yet they were kind—that is, fairly kind—and clean and quiet in the house, except when they laughed, which was often, and at things which made him want to howl as a dog howls at music.

LINES FROM THE TEXT:

A contemptuous tolerance for people who were not getting on
Air of knowing everything, and really they knew nothing—nothing
As if man's honour suffered when he's injured
Autocratic manner of settling other people's business
Avoid falling between two stools
Bad business to be unable to take pride in anything one does
Begging the question
Believe without the risk of too much thinking
Casual charity
Christian and good Samaritan are not quite the same
Complacency
Contrived to throw no light on anything whatever
Cultured intolerance
Defying Life to make him look at her
Denial of his right to have a separate point of view
Discontent with the accepted
Don't like unhealthy people
Easy coarseness which is a mark of caste
Fresh journey through the fields of thought
>From a position of security, to watch the sufferings of others
Good form
Half a century of sympathy with weddings of all sorts
Happy as a horse is happy who never leaves his stall
Her splendid optimism, damped him
How fine a thing is virtue
Hypnotised and fascinated even by her failings
I never managed to begin a hobby
If tongue be given to them, the flavour vanishes from ideas
If you can't find anything to make you laugh, pretend you do
Kissed a strange, cold, frightened look, into her eyes
Lacked-feelers
Like a scolded dog, he kept his troubled watch upon her face
Man who never rebuked a servant
Misgivings which attend on casual charity
Moral asthma
Moral Salesman
Moral steam-roller had passed over it
Morality-everybody's private instinct of self-preservation
Morals made by men
Never felt as yet the want of any occupation
No two human beings ever tell each other what they really feel
Not his fault that half the world was dark
Nothing in that book to startle him or make him think
Of course! The words seemed very much or very little
One from whom the half of life must be excluded
Overwork personified
Potent law of hobbies controlled the upper classes
Professional intolerance
Putting into words things that can't be put in words
Secret that her eyes were not his eyes
Settled down to complete the purchase of his wife.
She had not resisted, but he had kissed the smile away
Sign of private moral judgment was to have lost your soul
Something new, and spiced with tragic sauce
Supplied with their convictions by Society
Sympathy that has no insight
To do nothing is unworthy of a man!
Too "smart" to keep their heads for long above the water
Truth 's the very devil
Unconscious that they themselves were funny to others
Weighty dignity of attitude
Well, I don't want to see the gloomy side
What humbugs we all are
What they do not understand they dread and they despise
What's called virtue is nearly always only luck
When we begin to be real, we only really begin to be false
Words the Impostors

THE COUNTRY HOUSE /gutenberg/etext01/chous10.txt

PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:

You want to build before you've laid your foundations," said Mr. Paramor.
"You let your feelings carry you away.

Next to him was Mrs. Hussell Barter, with that touching look to be seen on the faces of many English ladies, that look of women who are always doing their duty, their rather painful duty; whose eyes, above cheeks creased and withered, once rose-leaf hued, now over-coloured by strong weather, are starry and anxious; whose speech is simple, sympathetic, direct, a little shy, a little hopeless, yet always hopeful; who are ever surrounded by children, invalids, old people, all looking to them for support; who have never known the luxury of breaking down.

The Rector, who practically never suffered, disliked the thought and sight of others' suffering. Up to this day, indeed, there had been none to dislike, for in answer to inquiries his wife had always said "No, dear, no; I'm all right—really, it's nothing." And she had always said it smiling, even when her smiling lips were white. But this morning in trying to say it she had failed to smile. Her eyes had lost their hopelessly hopeful shining, and sharply between her teeth she said: "Send for Dr. Wilson, Hussell."

Man who, having turned all social problems over in his mind, had decided that there was no real safety but in the past.

LINES FROM THE TEXT:

Admiration: Love of admiration plays old Harry with women
Careless pity of the young for the old
Clothes were unostentatiously perfect
Decreed of mothers that their birth pangs shall not cease
Desired his emotion to be forgotten
Did not intend to think of the future—present is bad enough
Have never known the luxury of breaking down
Head had been rendered somewhat bald by thought
Hopelessly hopeful
Imagination he distrusted
Inborn sense that she had no need to ask for things
Inconsistency between his theory and his dismay
Infirmity had been growing on him ever since his marriage
Just as well be a dog as a girl, for anything anyone tells you
Man to whom things do not come too easily
Nature is ironical
No real safety but in the past
None of them wished to be the first to speak
Only command likely to be obeyed that came into his head
Only just waiting till to-morrow morning—to kill something
Pendyces never asked their way to anything
People won't make allowances for each other
Perceiving her to be a lady, he went away
She had been born unconscious of her neighbours' scrutinies
Stumbling its little way along with such blind certainty
Taken its stand no sooner than it must, no later than it ought
That which a well-bred woman leaves unanswered
Things that people do get about before they've done them!
Thrilling at the touch of each other's arms
What does 'without prejudice' in this letter mean?
Women who are always doing their duty, their rather painful duty
You want to build before you've laid your foundations

FRATERNITY /gutenberg/etext01/frtrn10.txt

PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:

Hilary was no young person, like his niece or Martin, to whom everything seemed simple; nor was he an old person like their grandfather, for whom life had lost its