This is true enough. It is a difficult point to get over. And despite the fact that the sovereign rulers of the realm most strictly set the example to all their subjects of attending Divine service at least once on Sunday, this example is just the very one among the various leading patterns of life offered by the King and Queen which Society blandly sets aside with a smile. For, notwithstanding the constant painstaking production of exquisitely printed Prayer-books, elegantly bound in ivory, silver, morocco leather, and silk velvet, Society is not often seen nowadays with these little emblems of piety in its be-ringed and be-bangled hands. It prefers a pack of cards. Its ears are more attuned to the hissing rush of the motor than to the solemn sound of sacred psalmody; and the dust of the high-road, compounded with the oil-stench of the newest and fastest automobile, offers a more grateful odour to its nostrils than the perfume of virginal lilies on the altar of worship. _Autres temps, autres mœurs!_ People who believe in nothing have no need of prayer. A social “set” that grabs all it can for itself without a thank-you to either God or devil is not moved to praise. Self and the Hour! That is the motto and watchword of Society to-day, and after Self and the Hour, what then? Why, the Deluge, of course! And, as happened in olden time, and will happen again, general drowning, stiflement, and silence. There is certainly much to regret and deplore in the lack of serious thought, the neglect of piety, and the scant reverence for sacred things which, taken together, make up a spirit of callous indifferentism in our modern life, such as is likely to rob the nation in future of its backbone and nerve. It is a spirit which is gradually transforming the social community from thinking, feeling, reasonable human beings into a mere set of gambolling kangaroos, whose chief interest would seem to be centred in jumping over each other’s backs, or sitting on their haunches, grinning foolishly and waving their short fore-paws at one another with antic gestures of animal delight. They never get any “forrader,” as it were. They do nothing particularly useful. They are amused, annoyed, excited, or angry (according to their different qualities of kangaroo nature) when one jumps a little higher than the other, or waves its paws a little more attractively; but their sentiments are as temporary as their passions. There is nothing to be got out of them any way, but the jumping and the paw-waving. At the same time it is extremely doubtful as to whether taking them to church on Sundays would do them good, or bring them back to the human condition. Things are too far gone--the metamorphosis is too nearly accomplished. One day is the same as another to the Society kangaroo. All days are suitable to his or her “hop, skip, and a jump.” But shall there be no “worship”? What should a kangaroo worship? No “rest”? Why should a kangaroo rest? “Listen to the Reverend Mr.