rty; he only has loneliness. On the other hand, ants,
bees, and beavers exhibit the highest miracle of the State influencing
the citizen; but no perceptible trace of the citizen influencing the
State. You may, if you like, call the ants a democracy as you may
call the bees a despotism. But I fancy that the architectural ant who
attempted to introduce an art nouveau style of ant-hill would have a
career as curt and fruitless as the celebrated bee who wanted to swarm
alone. The isolation of this idea in humanity is akin to its religious
character; but it is not even in humanity by any means equally
distributed. The idea that the State should not only be supported by
its children, like the ant-hill, but should be constantly criticised and
reconstructed by them, is an idea stronger in Christendom than any
other part of the planet; stronger in Western than Eastern Europe. And
touching the pure idea of the individual being free to speak and act
within limits, the assertion of this idea, we may fairly say, has been
the peculiar honour of our own country. For my part I greatly prefer the
Jingoism of Rule Britannia to the Imperialism of The Recessional. I have
no objection to Britannia ruling the waves. I draw the line when
she begins to rule the dry land—and such damnably dry land
too—as in Africa. And there was a real old English sincerity
in the vulgar chorus that "Britons never shall be slaves." We had no
equality and hardly any justice; but freedom we were really fond of.
And I think just now it is worth while to draw attention to the old
optimistic prophecy that "Britons never shall be slaves."

The mere love of liberty has never been at a lower ebb in England than
it has been for the last twenty years. Never before has it been so easy
to slip small Bills through Parliament for the purpose of locking people
up. Never was it so easy to silence awkward questions, or to protect
high-placed officials. Two hundred years ago we turned out the Stuarts
rather than endanger the Habeas Corpus Act. Two years ago we abolished
the Habeas Corpus Act rather than turn out the Home Secretary. We passed
a law (which is now in force) that an Englishman's punishment shall not
depend upon judge and jury, but upon the governors and jailers who have
got hold of him. But this is not the only case. The scorn of liberty
is in the air. A newspaper is seized by the police in Trafalgar Square
without a word of accusation or explanation. The