ears before Henry's time some forecasts of the Lord's
purposes were furnished by a pope, who perceived, by certain perfectly
trustworthy signs furnished by the Deity for the information of His
familiars, that the end of the world was

... about to come. But as this end of the world draws near many things
are at hand which have not before happened, as changes in the air,
terrible signs in the heavens, tempests out of the common order of the
seasons, wars, famines, pestilences, earthquakes in various places; all
which will not happen in our days, but after our days all will come to
pass.

Still, the end was so near that these signs were "sent before that we
may be careful for our souls and be found prepared to meet the impending
judgment."

That was thirteen hundred years ago. This is really no improvement on
the work of the Roman augurs.

CONCERNING TOBACCO

As concerns tobacco, there are many superstitions. And the chiefest is
this--that there is a STANDARD governing the matter, whereas there is
nothing of the kind. Each man's own preference is the only standard for
him, the only one which he can accept, the only one which can command
him. A congress of all the tobacco-lovers in the world could not elect
a standard which would be binding upon you or me, or would even much
influence us.

The next superstition is that a man has a standard of his own. He
hasn't. He thinks he has, but he hasn't. He thinks he can tell what he
regards as a good cigar from what he regards as a bad one--but he can't.
He goes by the brand, yet imagines he goes by the flavor. One may palm
off the worst counterfeit upon him; if it bears his brand he will smoke
it contentedly and never suspect.

Children of twenty-five, who have seven years experience, try to tell me
what is a good cigar and what isn't. Me, who never learned to smoke, but
always smoked; me, who came into the world asking for a light.

No one can tell me what is a good cigar--for me. I am the only judge.
People who claim to know say that I smoke the worst cigars in the world.
They bring their own cigars when they come to my house. They betray an
unmanly terror when I offer them a cigar; they tell lies and hurry away
to meet engagements which they have not made when they are threatened
with the hospitalities of my box. Now then, observe what superstition,
assisted by a man's reputation, can do. I was to have twelve personal
friends to supper one night. One of them w