NEVILLE BENT OVER AND picked up a little soil in his right hand. He ran it between his fingers, crumbling the dark lumps into grit. How many of them, he wondered, slept in the soil, as the story went? He shook his head. Precious few. Where did the legend...

With the form conforming duly, Senseless what it meaneth truly, Go to church—the world require you, To balls—the world require you too, And marry—papa and mama desire you, And your sisters and schoolfellows do. —A. H. Clough, “Duty” (1841) “Oh! no, what...