We have no peace of mind. And here is the question of it that the theologists and the scientists have not yet hit upon: So long as one man suffers unjustly from his fellows, be he yellow or black or white, there shall be no peace of mind for anybody. And here is the demonstration: Whatever Man does that he should not, and knows he should not, and whatever man does not, that he knows he should, becomes the substance of the fear of every man, lest it happen to him in his turn. Integrity of man to man is not a paltering "ideal"; it is man's most essential ingredient, for it measures his potential for continuum in the sufficient space and patient time of God. Whoever thinks to have peace of mind, these days, is therefore the figment of his own imagination; whoever wants it for himself without thought to others is a criminal. Only the man-concerned ever knows that fragmented trifle of tranquillity permitted by our noxious times and customs. The rest are dead already in their souls--of science, of religion, of egoistic lust, of a deliberate return to childishness, of every fatal evidence of our plague. Now a man--the Englishman--opened a newspaper noisily at his table across from me. This is what I read: Soon, fifteen million Americans would be organized (voluntarily, they call it) for Civil Defense. A tenth of us regimented--willingly--for Civil Defense. (Yet everyone who knows, proclaims there is no defense!) The men without imagination have spoken. We shall be ready to police and put out fires, to evacuate and rope off radioactive areas, to deal with gas, bacterial clouds, falling fungi and shots caromed off the moon. In the name of courage, fifteen million of us will be, if possible, meticulously imbued with the latter-day alarms. Who says now that we are even a little sane? For a moment, my mind was blacked out by despair. But again and still its show went on. We, who did not have knowledge enough of ourselves to fight, when the time came, for liberty at its source--for freedom of knowledge itself--are day by day losing the rest of our freedom. It is a working of the great law. And in what noble names the old tyrant takes us over! Perhaps, I thought, we may understand in time, or be lucky, and get back a brighter version of the lost principle of freedom. And if not, the quicker we are slaves the better--for the necessity of freedom shall become plain that much the sooner. I could see the exultant marching of the fifteen million defenders of the indefensible. The burial squads of the Atomic Age are forming. Soon it will be fashionable for women to knit Geiger counters. Two-minute speakers, hastily instructed at the Y.M.C.A. will explain the need for volunteers and tell us what must be done when it is too late to do anything. Boy Scouts will learn to decontaminate the same, old, innocent surfaces. And the prizes at ladies' bridge will have the shape of guided missiles. A great age to be alive in while it lasts.