Word: millenniums
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...Hired Wife" is cute. It isn't significant. It isn't even anti-Nazi. In fact, as far as it's concerned, the world will lounge in stream-lined easy-chairs casually sipping high-balls till the Millennium. To see it on the same bill with the news-reels and a raving, screaming, hair-tearing March of Time is quite refreshing. If the end of the world is imminent, if Willkie and Roosevelt aren't both elected, if England and Germany don't both win, it won't do anyone any barm to have a good laugh before Judgment...
...Persecution of Witnesses merely strengthens them in their belief that they are battling the hosts of Satan, that the millennium is drawing nigh, and that in the great battle of Armageddon-due any day now-the wicked will perish and Jehovah's Witnesses will be saved. "They do not wait to be thrown to the lions; they walk into the lions' den, and bat its occupants over the head with the complete works of Judge Rutherford...
...Time is limited." Well might Reynaud and his hands hurry last week. The peril was immediate, for as this week began, not only was France at war with Nazi Germany, but with Fascist Italy. Perhaps France had a millennium of freedom ahead-but it looked more like a mere thousand hours, perhaps less. The length of French resistance, the rigid odds of mechanization being what they were, depended directly on morale-of the troops and of the populace. Over the radio, Premier Reynaud addressed himself to this intangible factor. The enemy, he said, had embarked on three enterprises...
...since the fighting forebears of Brian Boroihme put to sea in currachs against Britain a millennium and a half ago has Ireland had a navy of any account. Until one day this winter, when the flag of Eire broke out at the stern of the trim, new, 50-knot torpedo boat, M1, independent Eire had no Navy at all. Even then, Eire got this ship from the British, the Government having ordered six such craft from British shipbuilders for coast-watching and general marine service...
Nearest approach in The Cosmological Eye to Miller's cumulative power is a nightmare section building up to a bloody, fecund millennium in which a menagerie breaks loose, animals, vegetables and Indians run wild, and there are "no pale white faces, thanks be to Christ!" For the rest, its often funny short pieces are as mild compared to the two novels as they are wild, and fresh, relative to the bulk-and much of the best-of U. S. writing...