To-day the figure and the face are changed. Forty-five years do not pass without leaving their mark, even upon the Heroes of our strenuous epoch. An increasing stoutness—the hereditary enemy of his family—has affected the gait and figure of Mr I. Z. Barnett. His once luxuriant black curls are fallen. His head is surrounded by a short ring of reverend grey hairs, still crisp, however, and still admirably barbered. The clean-shaven face of the Mayence photograph boasts the whiskers of later middle age that meet above the mouth in a manner luxuriant, but quaintly foreign still. The chins are heavier and more rumpled, and the whole face softer and more drooping. Failing eyesight, coupled with a keen regard for dignity, have compelled Mr Barnett to the use of plain gold eye-glasses held by a simple tape. These, with a couple of rings upon the left hand, a heavy signet, a bunch of curious old family seals at his watch chain, some large pin or other, a well-chosen stud, and two cuff links of Russian opals, comprised the whole of his ornament. In dress, however, he is careful and even scrupulous—a habit that accompanies the excessive personal self-respect which is an only, and a most forgivable, weakness. In colour he affects the maroon; in pattern, a quiet check; and he is careful to hide the ungainly join between the trouser and the boot by a pair of snowy spats. Gloves he rarely wears. His hat is modish. His philosophy and manner are perhaps of greater import. Himself an agnostic, he has ever extended his religious sympathies beyond the narrow boundary of creed. His spiritual outlook from of old was frank and tedious at times, yet always genial and always helpful in intention. His deeper conviction was best expressed by the phrase he invariably used upon completing the complicated formulæ of some legal document: “My word,” he would say upon such occasions, “is as good as my bond.” At some considerable distance one would have recognised the man who had succeeded and who had deserved success. But that success had not come easily. Indeed, until the last magnificent piece of daring upon the M’Korio it could not be said to have come permanently at all. His birth was a continual drawback: the change of name necessary to his career in England was another: the slight accent which he retained throughout his career a third. We are a conservative and jealous people, and it is with difficulty that we will admit the genius of an alien, even when that genius flatters or would enrich us.