“No, indeed,” replied his dragoman; “but there are Committees. That habit which grew up at the time of the Great Skirmish has flourished ever since. Statistics reveal the fact that there are practically no adults in the country between the ages of nineteen and fifty who are not sitting on Committees. At the time of the Great Skirmish all Committees were nominally active; they are now both active and passive. In every industry, enterprise, or walk of life a small active Committee directs; and a large passive Committee, formed of everybody else, resists that direction. And it is safe to say that the Passive Committees are active and the Active Committees passive; in this way no inordinate amount of work is done. Indeed, if the tongue and the electric button had not usurped practically all the functions of the human hand, the State would have some difficulty in getting its boots blacked. But a ha’poth of visualisation is worth three lectures at ten shillings the stall, so enter, sir, and see for yourself.” Saying this, he pushed open the door. In a shed, which extended beyond the illimitable range of the Angel’s eye, machinery and tongues were engaged in a contest which filled the ozone with an incomparable hum. Men and women in profusion were leaning against walls or the pillars on which the great roof was supported, assiduously pressing buttons. The scent of expanding food revived the Angel’s appetite. “I shall require supper,” he said dreamily. “By all means, sir,” replied his dragoman; “after work--play. It will afford you an opportunity to witness modern pleasures in our great industrial centres. But what a blessing is electric power!” he added. “Consider these lilies of the town, they toil not, neither do they spin----” “Yet Solomon in all his glory,” chipped in the Angel eagerly, “had not their appearance, you bet.” “Indeed they are an insouciant crowd,” mused his dragoman; “How tinkling is their laughter! The habit dates from the days of the Great Skirmish, when nothing but laughter would meet the case.” “Tell me,” said the Angel, “are the English satisfied at last with their industrial conditions, and generally with their mode of life in these expanded towns?” “Satisfied? Oh dear, no, sir! But you know what it is: They are obliged to wait for each fresh development before they can see what they have to counteract; and, since that great creative force, ‘the good of trade,’ is always a little stronger than the forces of criticism and reform, each development carries them a little further on the road to----” “Hell! How hungry I am again!” exclaimed the Angel. “Let us sup!” IV “Laughter,” said the Angel Æthereal, applying his wineglass to his nose, “has ever distinguished mankind from all other animals with the exception of the dog. And the power of laughing at nothing distinguishes man even from that quadruped.”