The Confessions Of A Life Member.
[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] SIR,—I had been a reader of the Spectator for many years and a regular subscriber for quite half of the time. In the ordinary course I suppose......
Poetry.
THE CHEST. ONE day, leaning over the chest In the musk-scented dark of my mind, My fingers, trembling, at last Will learn there's no treasure to find. When the god who moves in......
The Preservation Of Oxford's Charms.
[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] Sue,--It has been for some time noticeable that our old towns are beginning to be beset by " skyscrapers." Some capitalist buys a bit of......
An Old Motto.
[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] Sia,—In answer to the query on page 500 of your issue of October 13th, I suggest that the motto may be as follows :— " E MELIORIBUS MELIORA......
The Cenotaph And The Cabinet.
[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] Curls. Szn,—I see that it has required two Cabinet meetings to decide finally whether the Memorial Service for those who gave their lives in......
Parochial Stories.
[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] SIR,—The reference in the Spectator of October 13th to the choir who sang " Take Thy pil - , take Thy pil - , take Thy pil - grim home,"......
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