“You are a Man of MONEY,”--pursued the Goblin--“And with all the MONEY you possess will you think of POVERTY? Of the thousands and thousands of human beings made of the same flesh and blood as yourself, who perish every year for lack of food? Of infants starving? Of patient genius, toiling for mere pence? Of delicate women working their lives away in order to provide sustenance for their children? Will you think of all these, and help them when you can?--not grudgingly, nor patronisingly,--but with a full heart and a generous spirit?” Faintly as a bride at the altar, McNason murmured “I will!” “You are a Man of Luxury,”--went on the Goblin--“Will you think of CRIME? Of the woeful sins which wretched men are driven to commit through want and misery? Of the prisons, crowded with branded human creatures, who in nine cases out of ten owe their guilt to the evil persuasions of others more cunning, more treacherous and powerful than themselves! Of unhappy mothers, gone mad with despair, who have murdered their children rather than see them die of hunger! Of girls, once innocent,--betrayed, ruined and deserted by the villainy and cruelty of such devils in the shape of men that even Hell might close its doors against them! Will you think of CRIME?--and, thinking of it, will you remember that it is often the sight of a man like YOU,--over-prosperous, over-proud,--that helps to drive the poor into the labyrinths of envy, hatred, drink, murder and suicide! Will you think of CRIME?--and do your best to fight against it with all your influence, all your power and all your MONEY?” And at this juncture the Goblin looked positively terrific. McNason quailed before its Gorgon eyes, and shivered. “I--I will try!” he murmured. The Goblin rose on its skeleton toes and lifted its skeleton arms. Its voice grew loud and shrill. “You are a Man of Commerce and Calculation,”--it said--“Will you think of WAR! Think of nation rising against nation and kingdom against kingdom! The beginning of sorrows! Think of widows and orphans!--think of thousands of dying and dead men! Of human blood springing hot to heaven and clamouring for vengeance! Of burning cities and wrecked ships! Hark! Listen to the rush of waters and the roll of guns!” And now, as the Goblin spoke, there came a distant booming sound upon the air, mingled with the measured tramp of many marching feet, and hundreds of male voices strongly uplifted in defiant chorus: “WE sweep the seas! Our glorious flag unfurl’d From North to South, from East to West Shines o’er the world! Our cannon’s bellowing thunder Roars with the roaring waves-- For Britain’s foes wild ocean holds Nothing but graves! “WE sweep the seas!-- On waters far and near Our signals flash, and write in fire OUR meanings clear! No other land, no other race Can match our British men!-- They’ve won a thousand fights before, They’ll win again!