It is difficult for a philosopher to contemplate with equanimity the fate which is overtaking, if it has not already overtaken, the word logical. “Logical” is one of a trio of words selected by the Greeks to represent the three main departments of philosophy; and of this trio the other two members, the words “ethical” and “physical,” have at least remained respectable; and to be called “philosophical” is almost a compliment. But to be logical is apparently, at least in England, to enter on very questionable courses: it is to class yourself with every reckless extremist, with the latest and wildest ism in art, politics, and literature, with Russians and Frenchmen and the “Latin mind.” No less a person than H.M. Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, on no less an occasion than an Assembly of the League of Nations, has lately proclaimed proudly to the gathered nations that lack of logic is the special virtue and privilege of the British Empire. The “lesser breeds within the law” heard no doubt and trembled, wondering how they could ever compete with a Power to which the laws of thought themselves were mere expediencies. Thus it appears, if Sir Austen Chamberlain is right, that to be logical is to fall into a human weakness or vice, and that this weakness or vice is fortunately commoner outside than inside the British Empire.