and they crossed the Ocean to found a greater England than the second. In each case they expanded England; but they did not in both cases expand the dominion of England. At Ebbsfleet, the Naxos of Britain, men founded a new England in Britain as independent of the older England on the mainland as the new Hellas in Sicily was independent of the older Hellas by the Ægæan. With the second voyage it was not so; the third England beyond the Ocean did not arise free and independent; it needed an after-work, an after-work never needed in the second, to make it so. And that work was surely an expansion, an expansion of England. We come once more to our paradox; may it not be that England herself may be expanded by the very cutting short of her dominion? Again, what is England? Do we mean by it simply the dominions of the Crown of England--or rather the dominion of a Crown of whose kingdom the British England is but a part? Or do we mean by it the land of the English folk, wherever they may dwell? Is there any contradiction in holding that the land of the English folk may be made greater, greater in mere physical extension, greater too in all that makes a folk and an English folk, by changes which cut short the mere dominion of the English Crown, which, in other words, work the dismemberment of the British Empire? May not the œcumenical England, the whole congregation of English people dispersed throughout the world, become greater, as the mere dominion of part of England, the dominion of this second England, this insular England, this British England, becomes narrower? Are we to be told that men of English blood, of English speech, of English law, ceased to be English, because they ceased to be under the rule of the sovereign of the British England? Once more back again to our ancient memories. Call up once more a man of Carthage; ask him if he ceased to be Phœnician, if he threw away the memory and the fellowship of the Phœnician name, because, in his new home on the shore of Africa, he owed reverence only and not allegiance to the mother-city on the shore of Syria? Call up once more a man of Syracuse--I will not say one who helped on one moonlight night to thrust down the Ionian invader from the steeps of Epipolai or who plied his oar for the Dorian city in the last fight in the Great Harbour--throw a veil over the strife of Greek with Greek, as we will throw a veil over the day of shame when men from the second England wrought a barbarian’s havoc on the rising council-house of the third,--let us rather say, call up one who, on the day of Salamis, helped in a work no less than that of Salamis by the side of Gelôn at Himera, call up one who struck the last blow for freedom and Hellenic life amid the breached walls and burning houses of Selinous, one who marched forth with the deliverer from the mother-land to win the wreath of Hellenic victory by the banks of Krimisos--ask such an one if he was less a Greek, if he had less share in the name