The London Spectator, in an editorial entitled "De Minimus," says: "It is good for every man's character that there should be some spiritual region in which he can do as he likes, some land of little things where he may be delivered from the tyranny of the long arm." This reflection may invite more appreciation in England, where tradition and time-honored custom have established a political and social inertia reasonably impervious to radical pressure, than in America, whose institutions are not similarly encrusted. However, herein lies a possible indication of our own proneness to talk and act nonsensically. College men especially are wont to search out the humorous elements in a serious situation, and their enjoyment in raillery is noticeably persistent. Harsh critics condemn this apparent distaste for fundamentals, and disparage the merits of an unregulated disregard of inward responsibility. If this sort of liberty is good for Englishmen, it must contain some value for us.

There is a time to work and a time to play, and we should work longer than we play. In addition to these, there is a place for the other quality which is neither work nor play--but just nonsense. It stimulates the appreciation of gravity by way of contrast, and without fuel of this sort, enthusiasm for serious ideals might wane. Like all curatines, it should be taken with moderation, yet its advantageous qualities must not be denied. Our mental and spiritual health demands a licensed escape from responsibility logic and accuracy.