LETTER TO AN UNSUCCESSFUL LITERARY MAN, 90
A POET IN THE CITY, 98
BROWN ROSES, 108
THE DONKEY THAT LOVED A STAR, 112
ON LOVING ONE'S ENEMIES, 119
THE DRAMATIC ART OF LIFE, 125
THE ARBITRARY CLASSIFICATION OF SEX, 135
THE FALLACY OF A NATION, 145
THE GREATNESS OF MAN, 154
DEATH AND TWO FRIENDS, 171
A SEAPORT IN THE MOON, 187




A SEVENTH-STORY HEAVEN


At one end of the city that I love there is a tall, dingy pile of
offices that has evidently seen more prosperous fortunes. It is not the
aristocratic end. It is remote from the lordly street of the fine shops
of the fair women, where in the summer afternoons the gay bank clerks
parade arm-in-arm in the wake of the tempestuous petticoat. It lies
aside from the great exchange which looks like a scene from _Romeo and
Juliet_ in the moonlight, from the town-hall from whose clocked and
gilded cupola ring sweet chimes at midnight, and whence, throned above
the city, a golden Britannia, in the sight of all men, is seen visibly
ruling the waves--while in the square below the death of Nelson is
played all day in stone, with a frieze of his noble words about the
pedestal. England expects! What an influence that stirring challenge