thank the Good Spirit that it has been given to man to write, and to him to read, verses of such exquisite perfection as Shelley’s ‘Ode to a Skylark’ and Tennyson’s ‘Early Spring.’ Above all, where men congregate in masses, in the great centres of politics, of commerce, of literature, science, and art, he can hear best The still sad music of humanity, Not harsh nor grating, but of ample power To chasten and subdue, and associate himself with movements in which his little individual effort is exerted towards making the world a little better rather than a little worse than he found it. This, rather than wrangling with his fellow-mortals about creeds and attempts to name the unnameable, believe the unbelievable, and define the undefineable, seems to me to be the religion of the future. Call it by what name you like, I quarrel with no one as long as he can find Sermons in stones and good in everything. CHAPTER XV. PRACTICAL POLARITIES. Fable of the shield—Progress and conservatism—English and French colonisation—Law-abidingness—Irish land question—True conservative legislation—Ultra-conservatism—Law and education—Patriotism—Jingoism and parochialism—True statesmanship—Free trade and protection—Capital and labour—Egoism and altruism—Socialism and _laissez faire_—Contracts—Rights and duties of landlords—George’s theory—State interference—Railways—Post Office—Telegraphs—National defence—Concluding remarks. A well-known fable tells how in the olden time two knights were riding in opposite directions along a green road overarched by the trees of an ancient forest. It was a bright morning in early summer, with the green leaves freshly bursting in contrasted foliage; the sun had just risen over the tops of the trees in clouds of golden and crimson glory; dewdrops were glittering like diamonds on every twig and blade of grass; and the joyous birds carolling their loudest song to greet the opening day. Everything was fresh and cheerful as of a new-born earth, and so were the spirits of the two youthful knights, who were pricking forth in search of adventures. He whose face was turned towards the West, where the rising sun had last set, wore a primrose scarf over his cuirass, and had on his shield a quaint device, which, on closer inspection, might be seen to be a tombstone with the inscription, ‘I was well, would be better, and here I am.’ He rode along musing on the heroic legends of the past, and wishing that he had been a knight of Arthur’s round table to ride out with the blameless king against invading heathen. The second knight, whose face was turned towards the rising sun, bore an azure shield with a different device. On it was depicted the good Sir James Douglass charging the serried Paynim army, and, as he charged, flinging before him into the hostile ranks the casket containing the heart of Robert Bruce, and shouting for battle-cry— Go thou aye forward, as was thy wont.