pera-Glass.

13. Sonnet: Botany.

14. Essay: Proper Treatment of Paupers, Insane, and Instructive
People.

15. The Fad for Facts.

16. How to Organise a Club against Clubs.

17. Paper: How to Humble Him Who Asks, "Have You Read----?"

18. Essay, by youngest member: Infinity. An Appreciation.

19. Review: The Heavens in a Nutshell.

20. Review. Wild Animals I Do Not Want to Know.

21. Exercise in Silence. (Ten Minutes. Entire Club.)

22. Essay (Ten Minutes): _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, Summary.

23. Exercise in Wondering about Something. (Selected. Ten
Minutes. Entire Club.)

24. Debate: Which Is More Deadly--the Pen or the Sword?

25. Things Said To-Night That We Must Forget.

26. ADJOURNMENT. (Each member required to walk home alone
looking at the stars.)

I have sometimes thought I would like to go off to some great, wide,
bare, splendid place--nothing but Time and Room in it--and read awhile.
I would want it built in the same general style and with the same
general effect as the universe, but a universe in which everything lets
one alone, in which everything just goes quietly on in its great still
round, letting itself be looked at--no more said about it, nothing to be
done about it. No exclamations required. No one standing around
explaining things or showing how they appreciated them.

Then after I had looked about a little, seen that everything was safe
and according to specifications, I think the first thing I would do
would be to sit down and see if I could not read a great book--the way I
used to read a great book, before I belonged to civilisation, read it
until I felt my soul growing softly toward it, reaching up to the day
and to the night with it.

I have always kept on hoping that I would be allowed, in spite of being
somewhat mixed up with civilisation, to be a normal man sometime. It has
always seemed to me that the normal man--the highly organised man in all
ages, is the man who takes the universe primarily as a spectacle. This
is his main use for it. The object of his life is to get a good look at
it before he dies--to be the kind of man who can get a good look at it.
How any one can go through a whole life--sixty or seventy years of
it--with a splendour like this arching over him morning, noon, and
night, flying beneath his feet, blooming out at him on every side, and
not spend nearly all his time (aft