Sir Arthur. You cannot ignore facts, Cranmer; indeed you love them too much to do so. I maintain that most people's minds are fully as much filled with thoughts and feelings respecting persons in fiction as they are about persons in real life.

Mauleverer. Perhaps so: especially if you add the personages in history to the personages in fiction.

Ellesmere. There is where Cranmer has such an advantage over us, and is able to do his sums without any foolish interruption.

Die Vernon (to me far the most loveable of all Scott's heroines), and Mignon, and Margaret in "Faust," and Beatrice, and Laura, and Mary Queen of Scots, and Medea, and Medora, and Rosalind, and Helen, and Cleopatra, and dozens of other fair women, never disturb the equal current of his thoughts.

Upon my word, I do not know whether it would not be a good thing to banish them all. Good heroes and heroines are an especial nuisance. They are apt to make us discontented with ordinary mortals. I dare say, though, the Ainah, poor dear, was peevish sometimes, and allowed her superiority to the other two to be plainly perceived, at least by Realmah, and that sometimes she was even intolerant of him. But I am very sorry she is gone.

Sir Arthur. You seem to forget, Ellesmere, that the portraying of these heroes and heroines makes people strive to become like them, and so tends to improve the world.

Ellesmere. So it may; but I think this does not compensate for the mischief of setting up a high ideal.

Milverton. I do not agree with you, and would venture to contend that no writer has been able to depict people so good as good people really are, for the truth is, no writer's canvas is large enough to do so. It is in length of patience, and endurance, and forbearance, that so much of what is good in mankind and womankind is shown; and you (the writer) have neither time nor space enough to show forth these high qualities as they are shown in life.

Mr. Cranmer. I wonder what is to become of Realmah now? We have seen him as a lover, and as an inventor; I suppose he is to rise into a higher sphere.

Ellesmere. Cranmer thinks he will become a man of business, the highest form of which human nature is capable.

Mauleverer. You see in this story what you see in most stories that are truly toldwhat a mistake it is to love anybody very much.

Lady Ellesmere. I do not see anything of the kind, Mr. Mauleverer. I would a

than Realmah before he made his escape from Abinamanche, and when he did not know that the Ainah loved him.

It was now late in the evening, and the party separated for the night. Sir Arthur and Ellesmere remained in the drawing-room after the others had left.

Sir Arthur. You were not really angry, Ellesmere, were you, when you left the room?

Ellesmere. Not I. Do you think anything that fat man could say to me would disturb my peace of mind? But he is right in what he says about my phosphoric restlessness. We had had a long reading, and a very long conversation, and I was scheming how to get a little change, and a little fresh air under the stars; so, from the moment he began to attack me, I began to prepare to get into a huff, and to make my escape for a few minutes, which I think I accomplished rather neatly. Our serious Falstaff thinks he has crushed, smashed, and pounded me to atoms. Depend upon it, he has gone to bed much happier than for many of the preceding nights, and that he has acknowledged that the world is not so wretched a place as he supposed it to be. There is some pleasure in crushing Ellesmere. I thought the likeness he was pleased to discover between my poor self and a yappeting suburban poodle was not bad at all. I do not think I shall ever do any great good in the world, except in opposing, and, if I may presume to say so, curbing men like you and Milverton, and so keeping you within bounds.

When I am here I always take up that objective line, because I think it amuses Milverton, and keeps him alive. There is such a vast amount of melancholy in his disposition, that he requires all the aid we can give him in the other direction.

Sir Arthur. Dear me, I should never have thought it. He enters into everything with spirit, from the most trivial game to the most serious conversation.

Ellesmere. Ah, but you do not know him as I do, or as Sandy there does. All the time, in the background of his mind, there is gloom. There is no knowing what mischief Mauleverer would do to him, if they lived much together.

Moreover his is a mood of mind which you cannot answer or satisfy. Mauleverer made a great hit when he attributed all Milverton's misfortunes to pity. If you were to make everything on this earth comfortable, and were to arrange the world as he pleased, he would still sit down, like

Rachel weeping for her children, and mourn over the past.

Was Mauleverer equally successful with you, Sir Arthur?

Sir Arthur. Yes, he was. That passion for form which he attributed to me is one of the things which has given me more trouble, and led me into more work, than any other motive power in my nature. I brood over an idea; I suddenly think how it may be expressed, or rather rendered, generally adopting in my mind some extraordinary form-and I am haunted by the thing until I have succeeded in putting it into that form. I believe the desire to accomplish that part of the work which depends upon form is stronger with me even than the desire to give vogue and furtherance to the idea. I had always a notion that this was an important part of my intellectual character; but I never saw it so clearly as when Mauleverer charged me with it in that forcible manner.

Johnson. What a remarkable thing that was that he said about the sparrow and the telegraph wires, when we were on the lake.

Sir Arthur. Yes. That was very good. One felt that it must have been said before. That is one of the first thoughts that occur to one when one meets with any fine passage in almost any work. By the way, it strikes me now that that is one of the reasons why, as Carlyle has pointed out, there is generally considerable disappointment on our first reading of a great work.

Ellesmere. To return to Mauleverer. He certainly is a very remarkable human being; but still he is terribly monotonous. I declare, without exaggeration, that I do not think I have heard him while he has been here, make one single remark that had not the tendency to depress human effort, and lower our view of human prospects. I mean

henceforward to take the other side.

In order to do so with effect, one must be

particularly well, and have good long sleepful nights without the aid of your blue sleepstuff, though, Sir Arthur. So, good night. [Exeunt.

The next day there was a reading of the story of Realmah, which was as follows:

CHAPTER XX.

REALMAH'S GRIEF. WHAT USE IS MADE

OF IRON IN ABIBAH.

IT has often been noticed how, in civilized life, routine goes on, whatever

reavement may have befallen. Dinner is not put aside because there is death in the house. There was the same thing at that period of the world's history; and Realmah had to conform to the inevitable routine of life. At such times men move about, as it were, in a mist-a mist, however, causing trouble and confusion only to themselves; for they may seem to others to see very clearly, and to do their work well.

The sufferer has not only to appear upon the stage of action, whatever that may be, and to act his part tolerably; but he has to continue to act, when off the stage and behind the scenes, and only ceases to act when he is quite alone. Moreover, the usual supports are gone. Even that most clinging of human frailties and follies, vanity, gives way before profound sorrow and bereavement; and, in their presence, it has been known that a very vain man has lost his vanity, and all the comfort and sustainment that it used to bring with it. An ambition, especially if it be of the higher kind, embracing the good of others, may survive the shock: and thus it was with Realmah.

One of the many miseries of greatness, and not perhaps the least, is that neither its joys nor its sorrows can be private. To this was added in Realmah's case that it was especially necessary to conceal the magnitude of his grief, and to behave as if it was only a small loss that he had suffered.

The report of his having made a successful experiment spread throughout the city with considerable rapidity, though not, of course, with the rapidity with which the knowledge of his failures body was anxious to see him, and to had spread on former occasions. Every

talk to him, and to be one of the first to congratulate him. Crowds of the citizens flocked out to that part of the wood where Realmah had carried on his experiments; and, in a very few hours, every bit of the iron had been carried away. The people of Abibah were very ready to appreciate the uses that might be made of this new metal.

the mortification that one naturally supposes Condore would have had to endure from this success on the part of Realmah. But " Condore the Judicious" was equal to the occasion. It is true that he was not one of those "silly people," as he called them, who flocked to the scene of Realmah's experiments; but Condore did not hide himself from his friends, or adopt a sulky silence. He had always known, he said, that certain stones would melt into metal. Of course they would. Anybody that had seen a thunderbolt knew that. He had viewed this enterprise with disfavour, not because he imagined for a moment that it was a thing that could not be done, but because it was not worth doing, and could have no good result. For his part, he was content with what had contented his ancestors, who, he supposed, were not greater fools than his cotemporaries. He would trouble He would trouble those who were in this fuss of foolish delight at a most commonplace transaction, to mention to him any instance of a new thing turning out to be a good thing. The presumption in all cases was, that any change is for the

worse.

They were descended from the godsat least so the priests had informed him —and was it likely that there would be any improvement in their race, as time went on, and as each generation was still further removed from their great ancestors?

As to the uses that might be made of this metal, he begged to remind them of the well-known story of the ambitious pig, who was so much discontented with his own tail, calling it a ridiculous and useless little appendage. The gods, willing to give man a lesson, bestowed upon this pig the tail that he coveted, namely, that of a fox. It was not found, however, to be so very great a gain. It went flopping about in the dirt; it made the poor pig look still more ridiculous than he had looked before, and proved only very serviceable to the little boys who wished to catch the pig. Such was the result, as far as his poor observation had gone, of men

but the kindness of the gods in giving examples to mankind was seldom understood.

This irony pleased the bystanders (there was generally a little circle of listeners round Condore), and his words were noised throughout the city, especially the satirical story which he had invented about the pig. It did not, however, produce all the effect that Condore expected. Sneering can do a great deal you can sneer down, at any rate for the moment, truth, honour, religion, generosity, and patriotism. Moreover, anything that is new offers especial opportunity for sneering attacks. But men cannot be sneered out of manifest physical advantages; and the men of Abibah were not such fools as to prefer fighting with wooden weapons against enemies who were furnished with iron weapons. Besides, they took it as a very ill compliment that Condore should insinuate, as they thought he did, that they were of an inferior race to the men of the North, and that it was unfit for them, the Sheviri, to aspire to have superior weapons.

In short, the pig story was not well received, and people began to murmur against Condore, saying that he had been a hinderer, rather than a furtherer, of many good designs.

Time went on, but the ardour of the men of Abibah for making use of this new metal did not abate. Many ingenious persons were found to aid Realmah in his projects, and there were several of them who now showed much more ingenuity than he did, in working this metal, and adapting it to many uses. In truth, inventors, or rather those who have the power to invent, are very numerous. Let any man observe how many persons amongst his friends have told him of inventions that they had in their minds, and he will perhaps come to the conclusion which this writer has come to, that one out of every three persons is a born inventor.

Why there are not as many useful inventions as might be expected from the number of possible inventors, may

get their bread; and that employment gradually absorbs all their attention. To many men the physical requisites for successful invention are wanting, namely, nicety of eye, deftness of hand, room for experiments, and the materials requisite to work upon. But, perhaps, the greatest want of all is want of perseverance. Most men become tired of their own ideas; and, even if they try an experiment, are apt to accept the first defeat as final. Besides, few men thoroughly believe in themselves, and are the first to go over to the side of their adverse critics.

However this may be, certain it is that Realmah found not only many favourers and admirers, but, what was much more important, many intelligent coadjutors.

In a few months' time, dating from the day when his experiment had proved successful, and when his Ainah had received her death stroke, the working of iron had made a great advance among the Sheviri. Indeed, a new tribe was formed called the Ironworkers. The name they gave to iron was Krool-Varla, which means stone-honey.

Of course the first use made of iron was to construct a good weapon of attack; and great was the delight in Abibah when the first iron javelin was made. Naturally this has been the first, and indeed the chief, use of iron in all ages-namely, to make it into some weapon of offence which shall pierce well into the soft flesh of our fellow-men. It is only during the dull times of peace that this valuable metal -the metal of our system,-has been applied to the comparatively ignoble uses of social life.

It is almost needless to add that Realmah became immensely popular, and that most men recollected that they had always said that there was something extraordinary in that young man. Condore and Potochee fell into the background. Invention became the order of the day; and the daring man who had proposed to eat with forks held up his head again.

When the Spaniards first discovered South America, they found a nation

that were carefully kept and fed, and reverenced, and prayed to. If, however, after a long course of praying, the prayers were not attended to, and rain did not come when it was wanted, or did not stay away when it threatened to be too abundant, the sacred toads were delicately whipped, to remind them of their duty to their worshippers. Thus it is always. Those who are great amongst us are either whipped, or worshipped. It was now worshipping time with Realmah; and everything he said was looked upon as something oracular.

It was well that there was at that period some one member of the princely families who was very popular, for there was much distress in Abibah, and consequent discontent. There had been great inundations that year; and both the roots and the cereals upon which the Sheviri depended, had, to a certain extent, failed.

In looking back upon those times, one cannot help thinking what good* use, for their purposes, Condore and Potochee might have made of this scarcity. They might have said that it showed the disapproval of the gods at the impiety of Realmah in offering to his fellow-men weapons like to those of the gods themselves.

But no such thing was said; and Realmah reigned in the hearts of all his fellow-citizens as the man whom they were proud to acknowledge as their foremost citizen.

Talora's beauty gained fresh radiance from her consciousness of power and pre-eminence amongst the women. The Varnah was delighted with the presents that enriched their house, but did not change her inmost opinion of Realmah's deficiency in common-sense, for was he not averse to receiving these presents, and, if possible, still more indifferent than ever to the good things of this world?

Many a subdued and furtive sigh came from Realmah's heart, when he reflected that the one person whose delight in his success he would have cared for most, was numbered with the dead.

WHAT does Ritualism really mean? Is it a reaction from the main intellectual tendencies of the age-an eddy in the stream of human progress? or is it a resuscitation of faiths which had suffered a temporary eclipse, or a new application of old ideas destined to modify the future of Christianity? A partial answer was given to these questions by Mr. Palgrave in a late number of this magazine. There can be little doubt of the truth of his remarks, so far as one side of the question is concerned. He described a vera causa, if not the sole, or most deeply-seated cause of the phenomenon. According to him, an explanation of the ritualistic impulse was to be found chiefly in the growing æsthetic development of the country, in our increasing desire to give to art a higher place in every department of national life. The same tendency which is exhibited in the growth of churches, in the improvement of secular architecture, and in the application of ornament to a thousand objects, from the Houses of Parliament down to dessert-dishes, is apparent also in our religious services. The Ritualists are persons who are discontented with the bare, bald fashion of worship which grew up under Protestant influence, and are desirous of appealing to our senses through a more gorgeous decoration of priests and churches, and an introduction of a higher class of musical performances into religious ceremonies. In short, he gave a rather different turn to the common accusation against the party, and said that the attempt to attract people to church as they are attracted to the theatre, by giving them a better show, was a sensible accommodation to the spirit of the times. He held out, by way of consolation, the pleasant prospect, that a check to our national prosperity might incidentally destroy Ritualism,

by destroying our means for spending money upon the luxuries of good taste.

We have no doubt that this is a part of the truth which should not be overlooked. The blue-book lately published by the Commissioners appointed to inquire into Ritualism, incidentally illustrates how far, and in what sense, it is true, whilst opening certain wider considerations. There can be no doubt that a showy ritual attracts a certain number of spectators, who would not otherwise care to come, and who have no higher interest in the services than people generally have in attending an oratorio. But it is plainly inaccurate to say that the ritualist clergy depend upon this mode of attraction, so far as their own intentions are concerned. Mr. Bennett says, in the blue-book from which we are about to make some quotations, that in using vestments he is not contending for any æsthetic purpose, but strictly for a doctrinal "The æsthetic purpose," purpose. he says, "forms an accident afterwards, "but it is not the object." Indeed, it would be most unjust to ignore the fact that the Ritualists owe their success to that which is the essential condition of all similar successes, namely, to a high degree of religious zeal. The splendid ritual attracts the poor, to whom, probably, all shades of theology are much alike; but they are also attracted by the more legitimate method of hard and selfdenying labour. The zeal may be merely the new broom sweeping clean, the outbreak of fervour characteristic of all new religious developments. But there it is, and we ought to acknowledge it and be thankful. Remembering that Mr. Mackonochie has built a church and schools, and done much to civilize a neglected district, we can very well pardon him for exuberant displays of ritual, or for a few theological errors. Indeed, when