Nietzsche and even worse heretics, to the spacious, innocent, somewhat gaudy days Of the Greek illumination for such a fellow, so bred and circumscribed, to come out Of his tower with a concept Of life as a grand and glittering adven ture, a tremendous spectacle, an overpowering ecstasy, almost an orgy — such a phenomenon was, and is, quite sufficient to lift the judicious eyebrow. Yet here is this Mr. Edwin Muir Of Caledonia bearing just that outlandish contra band, Oifering just that strange ?outing Of all things traditionally Scotch. What he preaches in the ensuing aphorisms is the emancipation of the modern spirit from its rotting heritage of ingenuous fears and exploded certainties. What he denounces most bitterly is the abandonment Of a world that is beautifully surprising and charming to the rule of sordid, timid and nu i'maginative men — the regimentation Of ideas in a system that is half a denial of the Obvious and half a conglomeration of outworn metaphors, all taken too literally. And what he pleads for most eloquently, with his cold, reserved northern eloquence, is the whole-hearted acceptance Of life as a sacrament, life as joy triumph ing over fate, life made innocent.