“The Sun near
Ascendant—self-praise, egotism,
self-satisfaction, fondness
for publicity and notoriety.
“Venus and Mercury
on Ascendant—fluency in speech,
agreeableness, desire
to please, fondness for Music, Arts,
and Sciences.
“Mars in 2nd,
in Opposition to Jupiter, unfavourable for
financial undertakings,
extravagance, carelessness, and
losses in speculation.
“Uranus in 4th, trouble at end of life.
“Jupiter in the 8th, benefit or help from marriage partner.
“Moon near cusp of the 11th, many friends, especially females.
“The Aspects denote—Sun
Square Jupiter and Mars,
recklessness in expenditure,
public disapprobation, and an
unfavourable and sudden
ending to life.
“Venus in Trine
to Saturn, and Moon in Sextile to
Jupiter—domestic
relations of the happiest description, and
the wife a great help.”
I frankly doubt if any man can foretell the future of Mr Lloyd George. No one knows what he will say or do to-morrow. We know what phrases he will use, but we do not know on what side he will use them, or what he will mean by them. All we know is that Sir William Sutherland will say ditto.
Let us, then, return to safer fields of prophecy. What, really, is going to happen in 1921? I think I know. Human beings will behave like bewildered sheep. They will be chiefly notable for their lack of moral courage. Good men will apologise for the deeds of bad men, and bad men will do very much as they please. Cruel and selfish faces will be seen in every railway carriage and in every omnibus, but readers of the respectable Press will refuse to believe that there are any cruel people outside Germany and Russia. Not one but all the Ten Commandments will be broken, and turkeys will be eaten on Christmas Day. Men will die of disease, violence, famine and old age, and others will be born to take their place. Intellectuals will be pretentious—mules solemnly trying to look like Derby winners. There will be a considerable amount of lying, injustice, and self-righteousness. Dogs will be fairly decent, but some of them will bite. Above all, the human conscience will survive. It will survive. It will continue to be the old still, small voice we know—as still and as small as it is possible to be without disappearing into silence and nothingness. And some of us will get a certain amusement out of it all, and will prefer life rather than death. We shall also go on puzzling ourselves as to what under the sun it all means. Not even a murderer will be without a friend or a pet dog or cat or bird. That is what 1921 will be like. That, at least, is as certain as the time of the high tide at Aberdeen on the 24th of January.
VIII
ON KNOWING THE DIFFERENCE