supreme
government of the universe, it seems hardly worth mentioning.

In old times, when folks were not so 'cultured,' starvation was thought
more of. It is quite curious, indeed, to contrast the high-flying
morality of the present day (when no one is permitted, either by
Evolutionist or Ritualist, however dire may be his necessity, so much as
to jar his conscience) with the shocking laxity of the Holy Scriptures.
'Men do not despise a thief if he steal to satisfy his soul when he is
hungry,' says Solomon, after which stretch of charity, strange to say,
he goes on to speak of marital infidelity in terms that, considering the
number of wives he had himself, strike one as severe.

It is certain, indeed, that the sacred writers were apt to make great
allowances for people with empty stomachs, and though I am well aware
that the present profane ones think this very reprehensible, I venture
to agree with the sacred writers. The sharpest tooth of poverty is felt,
after all, in the bite of hunger. A very amusing and graphic writer once
described his experience of a whole night passed in the streets; the
exhaustion, the pain, the intolerable weariness of it, were set forth in
a very striking manner; the sketch was called 'The Key of the Street,'
and was thought by many, as Browning puts it, to be 'the true Dickens.'
But what are even the pangs of sleeplessness and fatigue compared with
those of want? Of course there have been fanatics who have fasted many
days; but they have been supported by the prospect of spiritual reward.
I confess I reserve my pity for those who have no such golden dreams,
and who fast perforce. It is exceedingly difficult for mere
worldlings--such as most of us are--not to eat, if it is possible, when
we are hungry. I have known a great social philosopher who flattered
himself that he was giving his sons an experience of High Thinking and
Low Living by restricting their pocket-money to two shillings a day, out
of which it was understood they were to find their own meals. I don't
know whether the spirit in their case was willing, but the flesh was
decidedly weak, for one of them, on this very moderate allowance, used
to contrive to always have a pint of dry champagne with his luncheon.
The fact is, that of the iron grip of poverty, people in general, by no
means excepting those who have written about it, have had very little
experience; whereas of the pinch of it a good many people know
something. It is