he said, for pages and pages. And I think Frances
was anxious, for the mind must find rest in sleep.

The little flat at Battersea was a vortex of requests and
engagements, broken promises and promises fulfilled, author's ink and
printer's ink, speeches in prospect and speeches in memory, meetings
and social occasions. A sincere admirer wrote during this period of
his fears of too great a strain on his hero--and from 1904 to 1908
the only change was an increase of pressure:

I see that Chesterton has just issued a volume on the art of G. F.
Watts. His novel was published yesterday. Soon his monograph on
Kingsley should be ready. I believe he has a book on some modern
aspects of religious belief in the press. He is part-editor of the
illustrated Booklets on great authors issued by the Bookman. He is
contributing prefaces and introductions to odd volumes in several
series of reprints. He is a constant contributor to the _Daily News_
and the _Speaker_; he is conducting a public controversy with
Blatchford of the _Clarion_ on atheism and free-thinking; he is
constantly lecturing and debating and dining out; it is almost
impossible to open a paper that does not contain either an article or
review or poem or drawing of his, and his name is better known now to
compositors than Bernard Shaw.

Now, both physically and mentally Chesterton is a Hercules, and
from what I hear of his methods of work he is capable of a great
output without much physical strain; nevertheless, it is clear, I
think to anyone that at his present rate of production he must either
wear or tear. No man born can keep so many irons in the fire and not
himself come between the hammer and the anvil. It is a pitiable thing
to have a good man spend himself so recklessly; and I repeat once
more that if he and his friends have not the will or power to
restrain him, then there should be a conspiracy of editors and
publishers in his favour. Not often is a man like Chesterton born. He
should have his full chance. And that can only come by study and
meditation, and by slow, steady accumulation of knowledge and wisdom.*

[* Shan F. Bullock in the _Chicago Evening Post_, 9th April, 1906.]

In a volume made up of Introductions written at this time to
individual novels of Dickens, we find a passage that might well be
Gilbert's summary of his own life:

The calls upon him at this time were i