d others have begun to lead sideroads off the main track, the
sideroads are all leading forward. Theirs is a great message of hope.

And yet, nineteen hundred years ago Jesus Christ gave the world a New
Psychology . . . and none of us have tried to apply it to our souls.

VIII.

Mac came across a vulgar word in a composition he was correcting
to-night, and it seemed to alarm him. He could not understand why I
laughed, and I explained to him that I liked vulgarity.

I remember when a high-minded mother came into my class-room in
Hampstead. The highest class was writing essays. On her asking what
the subject was, I replied that each pupil had a different subject.
She walked round and looked over their shoulders. I saw the lady's
eyebrows go up as she read titles such as these:--"I Grow Forty Feet
high in One Night"; "I Edit the Greenland _Morning Frost_" (the news
this boy gave was delightful); "I Interview Noah for the _Daily Mail_"
(photos on back page). She nodded approvingly when she read the titles
of the more serious essays. Then I saw her adjust her spectacles in
great haste; she was looking over Muriel's shoulder.

"Mr. Neill," she gasped, "do you think this a suitable subject for a
girl?"

I glanced at the title; it was; "Autobiography of My Nose."

"Er--what's wrong with it?" I said falteringly.

"It lends itself too readily to vulgarity," she said.

I picked up the book, and together we read the opening words.

"When first I began to run . . . ."

The high-minded lady left the room hurriedly.

I loved that class. Often I wish that I had kept their essays. One
day we had a five minute essay on the subject: Waiting for My Cue.
Lawrence wrote of standing on the steps in a cold sweat of fear. He
had only five words to say--"The carriage waits, my lord," but he had
never acted before. His cue was: "Ho! Who comes here?"

"At last," he wrote, "I heard the fateful words: 'Ho! Who comes
here?' I could not move; I stood trembling on the stairs.

"'Get on, you idiot!' whispered the stage manager savagely, but still I
could not move.

"'Ho! Who comes here?' repeated the fool on the stage. Still I could
not move a step.

"'Ho! Who comes here?'

"Suddenly I became aware of a disturbance in the auditorium. The noise
increased, and then I heard the agonising words: 'Fire! Fire!' Panic
followed, and cries of terror rang out.

"But I . . . I jumped on the stage and cried: 'Hurrah!