whether you are so ignorant as to think you are being believed when you aren’t.  Thus, for instance, when you brag about burning Venice to express your contempt for “tourists,” we cannot think much of the culture, as culture, which supposes St. Mark’s to be a thing for tourists instead of historians.  This, however, would be the least part of our unfavourable judgment.  That judgment is complete when we have read such a paragraph as this, prominently displayed in a paper in which you specially spread yourself:  “That the Italians have a perfect knowledge of the fact that this city of antiquities and tourists is subject, and rightly subject, to attack and bombardment, is proved by the measures they took at the beginning of the war to remove some of their greatest art treasures.”  Now culture may or may not include the power to admire antiquities, and to restrain oneself from the pleasure of breaking them like toys.  But culture does, presumably, include the power to think.  For less laborious intellects than your own it is generally sufficient to think once.  But if you will think twice or twenty times, it cannot but dawn on you that there is something wrong in the reasoning by which the placing of diamonds in a safe proves that they are “rightly subject” to a burglar.  The incessant assertion of such things can do little to spread your superior culture; and if you say them too often people may even begin to doubt whether you have any superior culture after all.  The earnest friend now advising you cannot but grieve at such incautious garrulity.  If you confined yourself to single words, uttered at intervals of about a month or so, no one could possibly raise any rational objection, or subject them to any rational criticism.  In time you might come to use whole sentences without revealing the real state of things.

Through neglect of these maxims, my dear Professor, every one of your attacks upon England has gone wide.  In pure fact they have not touched the spot, which the real critics of England know to be a very vulnerable spot.  We have a real critic of England in Mr. Bernard Shaw, whose name you parade but apparently cannot spell; for in the paper to which I have referred he is called Mr. Bernhard Shaw.  Perhaps you think he and Bernhardi are the same man.  But if you quoted Mr. Bernard Shaw’s statement instead of misquoting his name, you would find that his criticism of England is exactly the opposite of your own; and naturally, for it is a rational criticism.  He does not blame England for being against Germany.  He does most definitely blame England for not being sufficiently firmly and emphatically on the side of Russia.  He is not such a fool as to accuse Sir Edward Grey of being a fiendish Machiavelli plotting against Germany; he accuses him of being an amiable aristocratic stick who failed to frighten the Junkers from their plan of war.  Now, it is not in the least a question of whether we happen to like this quality or that:  Mr. Shaw, I rather fancy, would