taught to live for others and not for ourselves, and are we not acting
up bravely to the teaching--in this most curious method?

Ah! yes, we are self-sacrificing enough, and loyal enough in our
devotion to this new-crowned king, the child of Prince Imposture and
Princess Pretense. Never before was despot so blindly worshiped!
Never had earthly sovereign yet such world-wide sway!

Man, if he would live, _must_ worship. He looks around, and what to
him, within the vision of his life, is the greatest and the best, that
he falls down and does reverence to. To him whose eyes have opened on
the nineteenth century, what nobler image can the universe produce
than the figure of Falsehood in stolen robes? It is cunning and
brazen and hollow-hearted, and it realizes his souls ideal, and he
falls and kisses its feet, and clings to its skinny knees, swearing
fealty to it for evermore!

Ah! he is a mighty monarch, bladder-bodied King Humbug! Come, let us
build up temples of hewn shadows wherein we may adore him, safe from
the light. Let us raise him aloft upon our Brummagem shields. Long
live our coward, falsehearted chief!--fit leader for such soldiers as
we! Long live the Lord-of-Lies, anointed! Long live poor King
Appearances, to whom all mankind bows the knee!

But we must hold him aloft very carefully, oh, my brother warriors!
He needs much "keeping up." He has no bones and sinews of his own,
the poor old flimsy fellow! If we take our hands from him, he will
fall a heap of worn-out rags, and the angry wind will whirl him away,
and leave us forlorn. Oh, let us spend our lives keeping him up, and
serving him, and making him great--that is, evermore puffed out with