pousing the cause of religion, and chaplains indignant in behalf of medicine,—the poor Green Box, suspected of sorcery in Gwynplaine and of hydrophobia in Homo, had only one thing in its favour (a thing of great power in England however): municipal inactivity. It is to an inclination on the part of the local authorities to let things take their course that Englishmen owe their liberty. Liberty in England behaves very much like the sea around England. The tide rises. Little by little customs surmount the law. A cruel system of legislation drowned under the wave of custom; a savage code of laws still visible through the transparency of universal liberty: such is England.
The Laughing Man, "Chaos Vanquished," and Homo might have mountebanks, preachers, bishops, the House of Commons, the House of Lords, her Majesty, London, and the whole of England against them, and remain undisturbed so long as Southwark sided with them. The Green Box was the favourite amusement of the suburb, and the local authorities seemed disinclined to interfere. In England, indifference is protection. So long as the sheriff of the county of Surrey in whose jurisdiction Southwark belongs, did not move in the matter, Ursus breathed freely, and Homo could sleep on in peace.
So long as the hatred which the show excited did not occasion acts of violence, it increased its success. The Green Box was none the worse for it, as yet. On the contrary, the rumours that were rife only increased public curiosity, and the Laughing Man became more and more popular. The public follow with gusto the scent of anything contraband. To be suspected is a recommendation. The people adopt by instinct that at which the finger is pointed. The thing which is denounced is like the savour of forbidden fruit; we long
