It would be obvious to the returned native that the old country must long since have ceased to be a “merry England.” The look on the faces of the people was enough to settle that. The intent gaze, the joyless expression, told a convincing tale. Here and there might be seen a flower of beauty in the gigantic garden of weeds--a stalwart, handsome man, a “perfect woman, nobly plann’d.” Eyes of youth, looking eagerly upon the page of life, still shone with the glow of hope and happiness; young girls and young children, in their freshness and charm, still reminded the wayfarer that in the great design human beings were meant to be even more beautiful than the flowers of the field. But the vast crowd--what had come to it, and what was coming? Was the English race, as a race, growing not only plain, but positively ugly? When the home-comer found time to move about a little, he would discover that in many respects the changes wrought in twenty-five years were greater than he had supposed. There were, in outlying districts, certain new or enlarged buildings of formidable aspect. These were the lunatic asylums of the capital. The inquirer had to learn that insanity had been advancing by leaps and bounds. Five years ago the number of London lunatics was nearly 27,000, and now there were nearly 100,000 certified lunatics in London. The workhouses also were larger and fuller than ever; and in the City, the scene of the trial of Michael White in 1885, the old court-house, haunted with the horrors of centuries, had given place to a new and imposing building, with greater accommodation for criminals. Solid, handsome, stony, the New Bailey frowned down on the new generation of Londoners. The City Fathers were justly proud of their modern palace of justice, though the question of what motto should be inscribed over its portal gave rise to some difference of opinion. A very reverend dean suggested, “Defend the children of the poor, and punish the wrong-doer,” or words to that effect. In what way the New Bailey was going to fulfil the first part of the text did not seem to be quite obvious but certainly the massive sessions-house looked quite equal to punishing the evil-doer. It did not occur to any one to recommend a text from the Koran, which declares that to endure and forgive is the highest achievement for humanity. Probably the City Fathers did not read the Koran. Besides, though in the interval we had allied ourselves with worshippers of Buddha, England as yet had no treaty with the unspeakable Turk. A quotation from the sacred book of Islam might have been considered out of place in a nominally Christian country.