nd
be a fine fellow; but every gambler is a sneak, and possibly a
criminal. We're beginning, now, to gamble for slices of the world.
We're getting base, too, in our grovelling before the millionaire--who
as often as not has got his money vilely. This sort of thing won't do
for 'the lords of human kind.' Our pride, if we don't look out, will
turn to bluffing and bullying. I'm afraid we govern selfishly where
we've conquered. We hear dark things of India, and worse of Africa. And
hear the roaring of the Jingoes! Johnson defined Patriotism you know,
as the last refuge of a scoundrel; it looks as if it might presently be
the last refuge of a fool."

"Meanwhile," said Piers, "the real interests of England, real progress
in national life, seem to be as good as lost sight of."

"Yes, more and more. They think that material prosperity is progress.
So it is--up to a certain point, and who ever stops there? Look at
Germany."

"Once the peaceful home of pure intellect, the land of Goethe."

"Once, yes. And my fear is that our brute, blustering Bismarck may be
coming. But," he suddenly brightened, "croakers be hanged! The
civilisers are at work too, and they have their way in the end. Think
of a man like your father, who seemed to pass and be forgotten. Was it
really so? I'll warrant that at this hour Jerome Otway's spirit is
working in many of our best minds. There's no calculating the power of
the man who speaks from his very heart. His words don't perish, though
he himself may lose courage."

Listening, Piers felt a glow pass into all the currents of his life.

"If only," he exclaimed, in a voice that trembled, "I had as much
strength as desire to carry on his work!"

"Why, who knows?" replied John Jacks, looking with encouragement
wherein mingled something of affection.

"You have the power of sincerity, I see that. Speak always as you
believe, and who knows what opportunity you may find for making
yourself heard!"

John Jacks reflected deeply for a few moments.

"I'm going away in a day or two," he said at length, in a measured
voice, "and my movements are uncertain--uncertain. But we shall meet
again before the end of the year."

When he had left the house, Piers recalled the tone of this remark, and
dwelt upon it with disquietude.

CHAPTER XXII

The night being fair, Piers set out to walk a part of the way home. It
was only by thoroughly tiring himself with bodily exercise that he
could get sound and