I Have To Confess That I Had Gambled On My Soul And Lost It With Heroic Insouciance And Lightness Of Touch. The Soul Is So Impalpable, So Often Useless, And Sometimes Such A Nuisance, That I Felt No More Emotion On Losing It Than If, On A Stroll, I Had Mislaid My Visiting Card.
It Is Difficult To Estimate The Misery Inflicted Upon Thousands Of Persons, And The Absolute Pecuniary Penalty Imposed Upon Multitudes Of Intellectual Workers By The Loss Of Their Time, Destroyed By Organ-grinders And Other Similar Nuisances.
