_Mrs. Opimian._ You have omitted accidents, which occupy a large space in the newspaper. If the world grew ever so honest, there would still be accidents. _The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ But honesty would materially diminish the number. High-pressure steam-boilers would not scatter death and destruction around them, if the dishonesty of avarice did not tempt their employment, where the more costly low pressure would ensure absolute safety. Honestly built houses would not come suddenly down and crush their occupants. Ships, faithfully built and efficiently manned, would not so readily strike on a lee shore, nor go instantly to pieces on the first touch of the ground. Honestly made sweetmeats would not poison children; honestly compounded drugs would not poison patients. In short, the larger portion of what we call accidents are crimes. _Mrs. Opimian._ I have often heard you say, of railways and steam-vessels, that the primary cause of their disasters is the insane passion of the public for speed. That is not crime, but folly. _The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ It is crime in those who ought to know better than to act in furtherance of the folly. But when the world has grown honest, it will no doubt grow wise. When we have got rid of crime, we may consider how to get rid of folly. So that question is adjourned to the Greek kalends. _Mrs. Opimian._ There are always in a newspaper some things of a creditable character. _The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ When we are at war, naval and military heroism abundantly; but in time of peace these virtues sleep. They are laid up like ships in ordinary. No doubt, of the recorded facts of civil life some are good, and more are indifferent, neither good nor bad; but good and indifferent together are scarcely more than a twelfth part of the whole. Still, the matters thus presented are all exceptional cases. A hermit reading nothing but a newspaper might find little else than food for misanthropy; but living among friends, and in the bosom of our family, we see the dark side of life in the occasional picture, the bright is its every-day aspect The occasional is the matter of curiosity, of incident, of adventure, of things that really happen to few, and may possibly happen to any. The interest attendant on any action or event is in just proportion to its rarity; and, happily, quiet virtues are all around us, and obtrusive virtues seldom cross our path. On the whole, I agree in opinion with Theseus,{1} that there is more good than evil in the world. 1 Eurip. Suppl. 207: Herm. _Mrs. Opimian._ I think, doctor, you would not maintain any opinion if you had not an authority two thousand years old for it. _The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ Well, my dear, I think most opinions worth mentioning have an authority of about that age. CHAPTER VIII PANTOPRAGMATICS Cool the wine, Doris. Pour it in the cup, Simple, unmixed with water. Such dilution Serves only to wash out the spirit of man.