But it is in his ultra-sentimental mood that John Bull is seen at his worst. Has there been a conflict between some semi-barbarous tribes in that seething cauldron of discontent, the Balkans, and the Sultan’s troops have thrashed them indiscriminately and dispersed them, John Bull, or at least that part of him which wears white ties and is described as “reverend,” rushes off to Exeter Hall and demands the prayers of the churches and the forces of his Government for the suppression of the inhuman atrocities which he denounces. (Incidentally, but in unmistakable terms, he at the same time calls the attention of his audience to the joyful fact that it is their duty and privilege to assist in this good work by giving liberally of their money.) Of course it is but a section of the English people which approves and supports this sort of thing, and a still smaller section that exploits it. But in a country politically constituted as England is, where the suffrage is almost universal, it is sufficiently large and influential to influence from time to time the conduct of the British Government. This is more particularly the case where the interests of the pseudo-humanitarians and those of the traders happen to coincide. On such occasions, fortunately somewhat rare, the spectacle of Cant and Commerce in alliance is enough to bring a smile to the face of a sphinx. [Sidenote: A Strange Alliance.] Protestant missionaries of various sects, in rivalry with each other, but often alike in being envious of the superior results obtained by Roman Catholic missionaries in the Congo Free State, denounce the Congo Government as a gang of barbarous extortioners, oppressors, murderers. A small but active set of Liverpool merchants, dismayed at finding that what twenty years ago they regarded as worthless has, under judicious Belgian administration, become a valuable asset, and some of whom appear willing to resort to any means by which they may at least be enabled to share the prize, join their forces to those of the missionaries. Lies fall as thickly as leaves in Vallombrosa. No sooner is one mendacious story refuted than ten others take its place. The Congo campaign multiplies its adherents, it gathers force daily, its voice becomes more and more thunderous, until at last it invades the British House of Commons and moves a British minister to write a puerile dispatch to the Great Powers, which the Great Powers, in the exercise of their common-sense, politely ignore. Only up to a certain point does Baron Münchausen triumph. _Verb. sap._ [Sidenote: Why is John Bull Silent?]