t were. The world is, I can assure you--and I do not look only
above the surface, you can believe--the world is awakening to the vital
importance of the question."

"Doctor," replied Sir Austin, "if you had a pure-blood Arab barb would
you cross him with a screw?"

"Decidedly not," said the doctor.

"Then permit me to say, I shall employ every care to match my son
according to his merits," Sir Austin returned. "I trust the world is
awakening, as you observe. I have been to my publisher, since my arrival
in town, with a manuscript 'Proposal for a New System of Education of
our British Youth,' which may come in opportunely. I think I am entitled
to speak on that subject."

"Certainly," said the doctor. "You will admit, Sir Austin, that,
compared with continental nations--our neighbours, for instance--we
shine to advantage, in morals, as in everything else. I hope you admit
that?"

"I find no consolation in shining by comparison with a lower standard,"
said the baronet. "If I compare the enlightenment of your views--for
you admit my principle--with the obstinate incredulity of a country
doctor's, who sees nothing of the world, you are hardly flattered, I
presume?"

Doctor Bairam would hardly be flattered at such a comparison, assuredly,
he interjected.

"Besides," added the baronet, "the French make no pretences, and thereby
escape one of the main penalties of hypocrisy. Whereas we!--but I am not
their advocate, credit me. It is better, perhaps, to pay our homage to
virtue. At least it delays the spread of entire corruptness."

Doctor Bairam wished the baronet success, and diligently endeavoured to
assist his search for a mate worthy of the pure-blood barb, by putting
several mamas, whom he visited, on the alert.

CHAPTER XIX

Away with Systems! Away with a corrupt World! Let us breathe the air of
the Enchanted Island.

Golden lie the meadows: golden run the streams; red gold is on the
pine-stems. The sun is coming down to earth, and walks the fields and
the waters.

The sun is coming down to earth, and the fields and the waters shout to
him golden shouts. He comes, and his heralds run before him, and
touch the leaves of oaks and planes and beeches lucid green, and the
pine-stems redder gold; leaving brightest footprints upon thickly-weeded
banks, where the foxglove's last upper-bells incline, and bramble-shoots
wander amid moist rich herbage. The plumes of the woodland are alight;
and beyond them, o