well enough, but when it comes to fourscore years, one's patience gets
exhausted. Carlyle's celebrated Essay, 'Characteristics,' in which
this transitional period is diagnosed with unrivalled acumen, is half
a century old. Men have been born in it--have grown old in it--have
died in it. It has outlived the old Court of Chancery. It is high time
the spurs of logic were applied to its broken-winded sides.

Notwithstanding the obstinate preference the 'bulk of mankind' always
show for demonstrable errors over undeniable truths, the number of
persons is daily increasing who have begun to put a value upon mental
coherency and to appreciate the charm of a logical position.

It was common talk at one time to express astonishment at the
extending influence of the Church of Rome, and to wonder how people
who went about unaccompanied by keepers could submit their reason to
the Papacy, with her open rupture with science and her evil historical
reputation. From astonishment to contempt is but a step. We first open
wide our eyes and then our mouths.

'Lord So-and-so, his coat bedropt with wax,
All Peter's chains about his waist, his back
Brave with the needlework of Noodledom,
Believes,--who wonders and who cares?'

It used to be thought a sufficient explanation to say either that the
man was an ass or that it was all those Ritualists. But gradually it
became apparent that the pervert was not always an ass, and that the
Ritualists had nothing whatever to do with it. If a man's tastes run
in the direction of Gothic Architecture, free seats, daily services,
frequent communions, lighted candles and Church millinery, they can