only on investigation that it appears.  The German 
plan is there in all its efficiency and completeness, 
yet there is none of the German manner which, by 
insisting upon its own excellence so audibly, lashes 
the Anglo-Saxon who beholds it into a state of such 
speechless 
rage. 
 
Everything 
has 
become 
subconscious.  It is as if Mr. Stuart possessed 
instinctively that supreme method described by the 
Chinese under the title “The Way of the Tao.”  
“Consciousness is a symptom of disease.  All that 
moves well moves without will.  All skillfulness, all 
strain, all intention is contrary to ease.”  Unless this 
method is actually seen in operation, it is almost 
incomprehensible.  Yet it is the only key to true and 
perfect success.  The Chinese express it in another 
way.  They say: “Do everything by doing nothing.”  
The only way in which we can bring this idea at all 
near to western minds is by speaking of perfect 
balance, in the sense in which the fencer or the 
chess player might use the term.  In a perfectly 
played game of chess the pieces are not arranged so 
that there is any obvious line of attack or defense.  
They are arranged so as to be ready to attack or 
defend in any position of the board.  A definite 
attack upon the king’s side or the queen’s side, or 
upon a pawn or a piece, compromises the position.  
The player is bound, to a certain extent, by his 
expressed intention.  Such attacks frequently 
succeed; but only because the opponent has already 
made a still greater mistake, has failed in sound 
development in some one point.  Of this method 
Mr. Stuart shows absolute command in his domestic 
affairs.  And his proposals for dealing with the