would not, I think, be taken, even by his own
generation, as a living proof that there can exist such a combination as
that of moral stupidity and trivial emphasis of personal indulgence with
the large yet finely discriminating vision which marks the intellectual
masters of our kind. Doubtless there are many sorts of transfiguration,
and a man who has come to be worthy of all gratitude and reverence may
have had his swinish period, wallowing in ugly places; but suppose it
had been handed down to us that Sophocles or Virgil had at one time made
himself scandalous in this way: the works which have consecrated their
memory for our admiration and gratitude are not a glorifying of
swinishness, but an artistic incorporation of the highest sentiment
known to their age.

All these may seem to be wide reasons for objecting to Melissa's pity
for Sir Gavial Mantrap on the ground of his good morals; but their
connection will not be obscure to any one who has taken pains to observe
the links uniting the scattered signs of our social development.

XVII.

SHADOWS OF THE COMING RACE.

My friend Trost, who is no optimist as to the state of the universe
hitherto, but is confident that at some future period within the
duration of the solar system, ours will be the best of all possible
worlds--a hope which I always honour as a sign of beneficent
qualities--my friend Trost always tries to keep up my spirits under the
sight of the extremely unpleasant and disfiguring work by which many of
our fellow-creatures have to get their bread, with the assurance that
"all this will soon be done by machinery." But he sometimes neutralises
the consolation by extending it over so large an area of human labour,
and insisting so impressively on the quantity of energy which will thus
be set free for loftier purposes, that I am tempted to desire an
occasional famine of invention in the coming ages, lest the humbler
kinds of work should be entirely nullified while there are still left
some men and women who are not fit for the highest.

Especially, when one considers the perfunctory way in which some of the
most exalted tasks are already executed by those who are understood to
be educated for them, there rises a fearful vision of the human race
evolving machinery which will by-and-by throw itself fatally out of
work. When, in the Bank of England, I see a wondrously delicate machine
for testing sovereigns, a shrewd implacable little steel Rhadama