“Yes, my lord,” sententiously remarked Dan, “you have to bring strong proofs to bear on the apathetic minds of Britishers. You must show them endless examples of your reformatory work before they will follow you one step. John Bull has not a speculative brain, and will not listen to any of your dreams; but, on the other hand, there is no limit to what he can do when once he is convinced of your power of common-sense.” And Lionel had made up his mind to take his countrymen as they were. He had consulted his club friends about transforming clubs into places of general meetings, where anyone, from a Peer of the realm down to a coal-heaver, would each week meet to suggest any new plans or denounce any abuse. Our reformer made them see that in the present condition of Society, clubs had lost the principal charm of their organisation—exclusiveness. In fact, their _raison d’être_ had disappeared. The collapse of centralised government, the vanishing of daily newspapers had deprived these smart haunts of all political and social interest; and the members saw no objection to lending their rooms for the use of public meetings. On the contrary, they rather enjoyed the change, for they longed for agitation, and thought that any kind of life was preferable than social decomposition. At the first meeting, the telephone question was on the _tapis_, at the second meeting the whole thing was settled, and a service of telephones was organised in every house. What were dailies, posters, letters, telegrams compared to the very voice which you knew, and which told you the very latest news? “Ah! my lord,” had again exclaimed Dan, “distance will some day have no signification whatever, between Continents, when telephone brings the Yankee twang close to the Cockney burr.” Lionel and Dan had looked at each other, and for one instant a mist had dimmed the brilliancy of their eyesight. These two had the public’s welfare truly at heart. “One thing is certain, Dan, that our dream will be realised sooner than we believe. Man will be able to see his fellow-creature, hear his voice who knows? perhaps he will touch his hand from one hemisphere to another; but never will man be able to demonstrate scientifically or ethically the governing right of one class over another, or of one man over millions.” “Your lordship is running too fast. You will bewilder the British public without persuading it to follow you. Show your fellow-citizens a materially reformed London before you can interest them in a regenerated universe. You have already developed their altruism in teaching them to be their own policemen; you have very nigh persuaded them that honesty is the best policy in replacing self-interest by fair dealing: you may, with your system of telephone, bring them to see that veracity is the only means of communication, now that sensational journalism has disappeared from our civilisation.”