we want in England, and shall very shortly have, the new broom that sweeps clean. We are getting socially and politically demoralised,—losing tone; and the reason is not far to seek. Our actions as a nation are not up to our words. We talk of progress and free thought, but in morals and religion we progress not at all, and our thoughts, on those subjects, are not free. We are still wrapped up in our old insular bigotry, while we lack, whether for better or for worse, our old insular hardihood. Puff and pretentiousness take the place of solid earnestness in public relations, vulgarity in taste is becoming rampant—witness the stuff that is now most popular in literature, in the drama, and in music. Unavowed Nihilism seems to undermine social sincerity; and if we are less superstitious, we are more materialistic. Nevertheless, all this might pass muster, if only it could be regarded as a transitional state of things, incidental to the most important of all developments mankind has ever undergone or can undergo, the emancipation of the female half of the race. But that still hangs fire; the heart of the community is not in it, mainly, I suppose for the reason that the heart of the community is not to-day in anything that is not either sordid or frivolous. But this cannot last, on the face of it. We shall be called to account, depend upon it, for our national sins both of omission and commission, and I should not be surprised if the day of reckoning were much nearer than any one of us suspects. What’s the matter, Lesbie; do you feel unwell?’
The young girl had turned ghastly pale, and some small beads of perspiration were starting from her forehead, while her eyes had a fixed stare. But the attack, whatever it was, passed quickly, and as her colour came back, she smiled at the company, saying,—
‘Nothing, nothing, uncle; only a little dizziness; perhaps
