PREFACE 



IT is easy enough to write a book. The difficulty- 

 is to sell the production when it is finished. 

 That, however, is not the author's business. 

 Nevertheless, the labours of the writer are not 

 over when he has completed the last paragraph of his 

 book. He has, then, in most cases, to find a title 

 for it. 



This, I maintain, should be a matter of little difficulty. 

 I regard a title as a mere distinguishing mark, a brand, 

 a label, a something by which the book may be called 

 when spoken of — nothing more. 



According to this view, the value of a title lies, not 

 in its appropriateness to the subject-matter, but in its 

 distinctiveness. 



To illustrate : some years ago a lady entered a book- 

 seller's shop and asked for " Drummond's latest book — 

 Nux Vomica" The bookseller without a word handed 

 her Lux Mundi. 



To my way of thinking Lux Mundi is a good title 

 inasmuch as no other popular book has one like it. 

 So distinctive is it that even when different words 

 were substituted the bookseller at once knew what was 

 intended. That the view here put forward does not 



