ste, and perhaps his taste is not yet equal to his
means, but there is no question of his adaptability to the sort of
display which is so pleasing to the greater part of the human race, and
which contributes so much to the brightness and cheerfulness of this
world. We cannot all have decorations, and cannot all wear uniforms, or
even regalia, and some of us have little time for going about in military
or civic processions, but we all like to have our streets put on a
holiday appearance; and we cannot express in words our gratitude to those
who so cheerfully spend their time and money in glittering apparel and in
parades for our entertainment.

VALUE OF THE COMMONPLACE

The vitality of a fallacy is incalculable. Although the Drawer has been
going many years, there are still remaining people who believe that
"things which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other." This
mathematical axiom, which is well enough in its place, has been extended
into the field of morals and social life, confused the perception of
human relations, and raised "hob," as the saying is, in political
economy. We theorize and legislate as if people were things. Most of the
schemes of social reorganization are based on this fallacy. It always
breaks down in experience. A has two friends, B and C--to state it
mathematically. A is equal to B, and A is equal to C. A has for B and
also for C the most cordial admiration and affection, and B and C have
reciprocally the same feeling for A. Such is the harmony that A cannot
tell which he is more fond of, B or C. And B and C are sure that A is the
best friend of each. This harmony, however, is not triangular. A makes
the mistake of supposing that it is--having a notion that things which
are equal to the same thing are equal to each other--and he brings B and
C together. The result is disastrous. B and C cannot get on with each
other. Regard for A restrains their animosity, and they hypocritically
pretend to like each other, but both wonder what A finds so congenial in
the other. The truth is that this personal equation, as we call it, in
each cannot be made the subject of mathematical calculation. Human
relations will not bend to it. And yet we keep blundering along as if
they would. We are always sure, in our letter of introduction, that this
friend will be congenial to the other, because we are fond of both.
Sometimes this happens, but half the time we should be more successful in
bringing