aning without the
previous definition of a moral doctrine, and that it can only be
applied to groups of persons who hold that doctrine in common.
Progress is not an illegitimate word, but it is logically evident that
it is illegitimate for us. It is a sacred word, a word which could only
rightly be used by rigid believers and in the ages of faith.

III. On Mr. Rudyard Kipling and Making the World Small

There is no such thing on earth as an uninteresting subject; the only
thing that can exist is an uninterested person. Nothing is more keenly
required than a defence of bores. When Byron divided humanity into the
bores and bored, he omitted to notice that the higher qualities exist
entirely in the bores, the lower qualities in the bored, among whom he
counted himself. The bore, by his starry enthusiasm, his solemn
happiness, may, in some sense, have proved himself poetical. The bored
has certainly proved himself prosaic.

We might, no doubt, find it a nuisance to count all the blades of grass
or all the leaves of the trees; but this would not be because of our
boldness or gaiety, but because of our lack of boldness and gaiety. The
bore would go onward, bold and gay, and find the blades of grass as
splendid as the swords of an army. The bore is stronger and more
joyous than we are; he is a demigod--nay, he is a god. For it is the
gods who do not tire of the iteration of things; to them the nightfall
is always new, and the last rose as red as the first.

The sense that everything is poetical is a thing solid and absolute; it
is not a mere matter of phraseology or persuasion. It is not merely
true, it is ascertainable. Men may be challenged to deny it; men may
be challenged to mention anything that is not a matter of poetry. I
remember a long time ago a sensible sub-editor coming up to me with a
book in his hand, called "Mr. Smith," or "The Smith Family," or some
such thing. He said, "Well, you won't get any of your damned mysticism
out of this," or words to that effect. I am happy to say that I
undeceived him; but the victory was too obvious and easy. In most cases
the name is unpoetical, although the fact is poetical. In the case of
Smith, the name is so poetical that it must be an arduous and heroic
matter for the man to live up to it. The name of Smith is the name of
the one trade that even kings respected, it could claim half the glory
of that arma virumque which all epics acclaimed. The spirit of the
sm