sleeping against the head-stone with his flock about him, whilst the
moon from behind the pyramid illuminates his figure and serves to
realize the poet's favorite theme in the presence of his grave. This
interesting incident is not fanciful, but is what I actually saw on an
autumn evening at Monte Tertanio the year following the poet's death.

* * * * *


A SPASM OF SENSE.


The conjunction of amiability and sense in the same individual renders
that individual's position in a world like this very disagreeable.
Amiability without sense, or sense without amiability, runs along
smoothly enough. The former takes things as they are. It receives all
glitter as pure gold, and does not see that it is custom alone which
varnishes wrong with a shiny coat of respectability, and glorifies
selfishness with the aureole of sacrifice. It sets down all collisions
as foreordained, and never observes that they occur because people will
not smooth off their angles, but sharpen them, and not only sharpen
them, but run them into you. It forgets that the Lord made man upright,
but he hath sought out many inventions. It attributes all the confusion
and inaptitude which it finds to the nature of things, and never
suspects that the Devil goes around in the night, thrusting the square
men into the round places, and the round men into the square places. It
never notices that the reason why the rope does not unwind easily is
because one strand is a world too large and another a world too small,
and so it sticks where it ought to roll, and rolls where it ought to
stick. It makes sweet, faint efforts with tender fingers and palpitating