CHAPTER I.
"ON WASTE."
WHY are these things so? I exclaim, plumping down again into my seat. "Why have the times been out of joint ever since Hamlet's first appearance on the stage, with black tights and rosettes in his shoes? Why is the whole world still at sixes and sevens? What is the object of it all? Cui bono? cui bono? cui bono? Is there the slightest appearance of a result? any tendency towards a goal? Shall we ever get anywhere, or are we travelling perpetually in a circle, like
