The Universality Of A Custom Is Pledge

Abroad It Is Our Habit To Regard All Other Travelers In The Light Of Personal And Unpardonable Grievances. They Are Intruders Into Our Chosen Realms Of Pleasure, They Jar Upon Our Sensibilities, They Lessen Our Meager Share Of Comforts, They Are Everywhere In Our Way, They Are Always An Unnecessary Feature In The Landscape.

We Cannot Learn To Love Other Tourists,-the Laws Of Nature Forbid It,-but, Meditating Soberly On The Impossibility Of Their Loving Us, We May Reach Some Common Platform Of Tolerance, Some Common Exchange Of Recognition And Amenity.

Anyone, However, Who Has Had Dealings With Dates Knows That They Are Worse Than Elusive, They Are Perverse. Events Do Not Happen At The Right Time, Nor In Their Proper Sequence. That Sense Of Harmony With Place And Season Which Is So Strong In The Historian--if He Be A Readable Historian--is Lamentably Lacking In History, Which Takes No Pains To Verify His Most Convincing Statements.

No Rural Community, No Suburban Community, Can Ever Possess The Distinctive Qualities That City Dwellers Have For Centuries Given To The World.

People Who Pin Their Faith To A Catchword Never Feel The Necessity Of Understanding Anything.