To arrive at a just estimate of a renowned man's character one must judge it by the standards of his time, not ours.

This morning arrives a letter from my ancient silver-mining comrade, Calvin H. Higbie, a man whom I have not seen nor had communication with for forty-four years. . . . [Footnote: Roughing It is dedicated to Higbie.] . . . I shall allow myself the privilege of copying his punctuation and his spelling, for to me they are a part of the man. He is as honest as the day is long. He is utterly simple-minded and straightforward, and his spelling and his punctuation are as simple and honest as he is himself. He makes no apology for them, and no apology is needed.

Each nation knowing it has the only true religion and the only sane system of government, each despising all the others, each an ass and not suspecting it.

Patriotism is merely a religion-love of country, worship of country, devotion to the country's flag and honor and welfare.

Customs do not concern themselves with right or wrong or reason. But they have to be obeyed; one reasons all around them until he is tired, but he must not transgress them, it is sternly forbidden.

But we love the Old Travelers. We love to hear them prate and drivel and lie.

There are only two forces that can carry light to all the corners of the globe... the sun in the heavens and the Associated Press down here.