hey ought not.' replied the
owl; 'but I believe these things are purely symbolical, and that _au
fond_ the Priestess of Esoteric Buddhism herself adores the Dragon.'

'That is enough about _that_. Are there no patent religions warranted
free from Dragon worship?'

'Well.' said the Owl dubiously, 'there are the Altruists. '_They_
worship humanity. As a rule, you may have noticed that adorers think the
object of adoration better than themselves,--an unexpected instance in
most cases, of the modesty of their species. But the Altruists worship
Humanity.'

'And they don't think Humanity better than themselves?'

'Far from it. Their leading idea is that they are the cream of Humanity.
Their principal industry is to scold and lecture Humanity. Whatever
Humanity may be doing--making war or making peace, or making love to its
Deceased Wife's Sister--the Altruists cry out, "Don't do that." And
they preach sermons to Humanity, always beginning, "We think;" and they
publish their remarks in high-class periodicals, and they invariably
show that everyone, and especially Mr. Herbert Spencer, is in the
wrong, and nobody pays the slightest attention to them. In their way the
Altruists do to others as they would have others do to them, To my mind,
while they pretend that Humanity is what they worship, they really want
to be worshipped by Humanity.'

'Are there many of this sect?' asked Mab.

'There were twenty-seven of them.' said the Owl, 'but they quarrelled
about canonising the Emperor Tiberius, and now there are only thirteen
and a half.'

'Where do you get the fraction?' said Mab.

'That is a mystery.' said the Owl. 'Every religion should have its
mystery, and the Altruists possess only this example; it is a cheap one,
but they are not a luxurious sect.'

'Well.' said Mab mournfully at last, 'I must go back to Samoa; there is
too much mystery here for me. But who is that?'

She broke off suddenly, for a new and mysterious object had just entered
the glade, and was advancing towards the pool.

'Hush!' said the Owl. 'Do take care. It is a scientific man--a
philosopher.'

It was a tall, thin personage, with spectacles and a knapsack, and what
reminded Queen Mab of a small green landing-net, but was really intended
to catch butterflies. He came up to the pond, and she imagined he was
going to fish; but no, he only unfastened his knapsack and took some
small phials and a tin box out of it Then, bending down to the edge
of