them — just as little do we see a tree correctly and completely in respect to its leaves, branches, colour, and shape; we find it so much easier to fancy the chance of a tree.

Even in the midst of the most remarkable experiences, we still do just the same; we fabricate the greater part of the experience, and can hardly be made to contemplate any event, EXCEPT as “inventors” thereof. All this goes to prove that from our fundamental nature and from remote ages we have been — ACCUSTOMED TO LYING. Or, to express it more politely and hypocritically, in short, more pleasantly — one is much more of an artist than one is aware of. — In an animated conversation, I often see the face of the person with whom I am speaking so clearly and sharply defined before me, according to the thought he