“‘A few trifling errors are of no consequence when you are in the vein of satire,’ said Vernon. ‘Be satisfied with knowing a nation in the person of a cook.’” But Sir Willoughby still has twin peaks of eminence to surmount: one he achieves when he describes himself to Lætitia as a man of humor; and the other when he warns Clara to beware of marrying an egoist. Perhaps the two best understudies in egoism are Wilfred Pole and Victor Radnor. Wilfred is satisfied with the talents and charm of his Emilia. And yet[230] “It was mournful to think that Circumstances had not at the same time created the girl of noble birth, or with an instinct for spiritual elegance. But the world is imperfect.” Both have lofty conceptions of loyalty and sacrifice. In the case of Wilfred,[231] “He could pledge himself to eternity, but shrank from being bound to eleven o’clock on the morrow morning.” Victor is convinced of his love for Nataly,[232] “And he tested it to prove it by his readiness to die for her: which is heroically easier than the devotedly living, and has a weight of evidence in our internal Courts for surpassing the latter tedious performance.” The occasion of the splendid housewarming at Lakelands is made into a text on the perils of feminism. In a crowded hall--[233] “Chivalry stood. It is a breeched abstraction, sacrificing voluntarily and genially to the Fair, for a restoring of the balance between the sexes, that the division of good things be rather in the fair ones’ favor as they are to think: with the warning to them, that the establishment of their claim for equality puts an end to the priceless privileges of petticoats. Women must be mad, to provoke such a warning; and the majority of them submissively show their good sense.” (“With that innate submissiveness,” speaks up George Eliot, “of the goose, so beautifully corresponding to the strength of the gander.”) Another evidence of bewildering perversity is equally apposite to the present moment of history. The Austrian Lieutenant Jenna is discoursing on the Italians and the habit of the captured of spending their enforced solitude in writing Memoirs:[234] “My father said--the stout old Colonel--‘Prisons seem to make these Italians take an interest in themselves.’ ‘Oh!’ says my mother, ‘why can’t they be at peace with us?’ ‘That’s exactly the question,’ says my father, ‘we’re always putting to them.’ And so I say. Why can’t they let us smoke our cigars in peace?” But England does not lag behind in the matter of the application of the intellect to practical questions. The country squires are excited over the approach of the open game season; moreover,--[235]