Parliament supremely stimulating throughout the land. What of young
Randolph Churchill, who, despite his halting speech, foppish mien and
rather coarse fibre of mind, was yet the greatest Parliamentarian of his
day? What of Justin Huntly McCarthy, under his puerile mask a most dark,
most dangerous conspirator, who, lightly swinging the sacred lamp of
burlesque, irradiated with fearful clarity the wrath and sorrow of
Ireland? What of Blocker Warton? What of the eloquent atheist, Charles
Bradlaugh, pleading at the Bar, striding past the furious Tories to
the very Mace, hustled down the stone steps with the broadcloth torn in
ribands from his back? Surely such scenes will never more be witnessed
at St. Stephen's. Imagine the existence of God being made a party
question! No wonder that at a time of such turbulence fine society also
should have shown the primordia of a great change. It was felt that
the aristocracy could not live by good-breeding alone. The old delights
seemed vapid, waxen. Something vivid was desired. And so the sphere of
fashion converged with the sphere of art, and revolution was the result.

Be it remembered that long before this time there had been in the heart
of Chelsea a kind of cult for Beauty. Certain artists had settled
there, deliberately refusing to work in the ordinary official way, and
'wrought,' as they were wont to asseverate, 'for the pleasure and sake
of all that is fair.' Little commerce had they with the brazen world.
Nothing but the light of the sun would they share with men. Quietly and
unbeknown, callous of all but their craft, they wrought their poems
or their pictures, gave them one to another, and wrought on. Meredith,
Rossetti, Swinburne, Morris, Holman Hunt were in this band of shy
artificers. In fact, Beauty had existed long before 1880. It was Mr.
Oscar Wilde who managed her debut. To study the period is to admit that
to him was due no small part of the social vogue that Beauty began to
enjoy. Fired by his fervid words, men and women hurled their mahogany
into the streets and ransacked the curio-shops for the furniture of
Annish days. Dados arose upon every wall, sunflowers and the feathers
of peacocks curved in every corner, tea grew quite cold while the guests
were praising the Willow Pattern of its cup. A few fashionable women
even dressed themselves in sinuous draperies and unheard-of greens. Into
whatsoever ballroom you went, you would surely find, among the women in
tiaras