The Rev. Charles Gapworthy, B.A., sometime fellow and chaplain of St Lazarus Hys Hostel, Bermondsey, S.E., tells us in his “Political Economy for Schools” (chap. ii. “Capital,” p. 28) that “economic force resides ultimately, not in material accumulation, but in a certain bold prevision of the mind.” The truth is but one more example of the power residing in what we denominate, in this country, the “Christian virtue of Hope.” The M’Korio Delta Development Company had been but an idea. That idea had even seemed, for some months, to languish, when the accession of Mr Burden’s reputation, his Faith (which had made the formation of the syndicate possible), and, for that matter, his twenty-five thousand pounds, though they were but the outward sign of inward spiritual things, lent to the whole adventure body and life. Its aspect changed; it became concrete, as it were: a thing to be named, handled, criticised, combated, defended with passionate enthusiasm; a national Force in Being. [Illustration: THE REV. CHARLES GAPWORTHY, B.A. (FROM A BLOCK VERY KINDLY LENT BY “THE ST LAZARUS HYS HOSTEL MAGAZINE; A REVIEW OF SOCIAL PROGRESS”)] Mr Barnett was the first to sacrifice himself in the cause for which so many in the end laid down their all. He left the Edgeware Road, and took a considerable mansion overlooking the Park, convenient to the Twopenny Tube, possessing a southern aspect, and so near to the Marble Arch as to boast nobility of site. He thought it his duty (and the future has proved him wise) to hire a carriage with two horses, men in livery, and a box at the Opera: nor did he hesitate to ensure to the daily papers, even to those with whose editors he was intimate, a fixed contract of advertisement, in return for which, as the courtesy of journalism demands, certain of his doings were published, and commentary upon others omitted. If it be true, as Canon Cone has so beautifully put it in his Christmas sermon on Kingdom, that “we can serve England better with our heads than with our hearts,” most nobly did Mr Barnett serve her. His dinners, the principal of which were given weekly upon Fridays, when Parliament was resting from its labours and before the well-earned week-end had begun, his dinners, I say, recruited their guests with a peculiar discretion. Rarely did more than twenty sit down together, never, even when that number was exceeded, did men or cooking of inferior value weaken the effect of the meal. Gatherings less formal distinguished or enlivened the remaining evenings, saving that of the Sabbath, which, in fine contrast to so many around him, Mr Barnett remembered to keep it holy.