Charm is not, then, an _assertive_ quality, unless unselfishness can resemble “assertiveness.” Rather is it the power to draw from others those natural qualities which otherwise lie dormant within them. We all yearn to be our true selves: the difficulty is that we receive so little encouragement from those with whom we are brought into contact. Thus, as I wrote before, we are all apt to find charm in those who, as it were, seem to possess the key to our hearts. We delight to talk to them, because with them we feel safe from that danger which besets us so often—the danger of being wilfully misunderstood, wilfully misjudged, our “dreams” and “ideals” wilfully distorted. In their society we expand, living and speaking as free men would live and speak in a world of real freedom. Leaving them to return to the world is as a “farewell” to liberty upon re‐ entering prison. Physically they may not attract us; though, such is the potency of Charm, that those we like we very soon begin to admire. Which is a blessing without the least disguise, since it enables those who have neither youth nor beauty nor wealth to recommend them to find friendship and love nevertheless. Charm is, as it were, the passion of a “soul”—a passion in which there is nothing physical, but rather a mental and spiritual elation overwhelming the simple “call of the flesh.” Thus real Charm is ageless, because it can triumph even over physical decay. The Charm of Innocence; the Charm of Youth;—these states do not really belong to those gifts of sympathy and understanding which are the two chief elements of Charm. Youth and Innocence leave us at last. Our regret over their departure is at best a purely academic sorrow. In the hearts of those who find us charming we know that we can defy Age. Our greater Knowledge will but give us a clearer Understanding, and for these things shall we be loved. Charm, in fact, is what maturity offers men and women in exchange for their Youth. In finding it, they escape that loneliness which is the one haunting terror of growing old. We speak, of course, of “charming girls” and “charming young men,” but what we really mean is that they are merely nice and young. “Charming,” indeed, is a word which we use as thoughtlessly as we use “Love.” We employ it to express prettiness and elegance, daintiness and good‐nature. But none of these things necessarily express “Charm” any more than do those couples, who make use of the trees in Hyde Park to cuddle beneath them, express Love. They are just words we employ because our Dictionary is limited and we cannot think of any other. Real Charm is something much more subtle than any of these things—more subtle, yet more potent. In fact, no one may pride themselves on the possession of Charm until Time has robbed them of all those “minor beauties.” Indeed, if I were asked to explain Charm—and in thus being asked I should be faced by the difficulty of explaining the well‐nigh