upon language of this sort:--

"It is the close, let us suppose, of our second month of war.
The fleet has been neglected, and has been overwhelmed, unready and
unprepared. We have been beaten twice at sea, and our enemies have
established no accidental superiority, but a permanent and
overwhelming one. The telegraph cables have been severed, one and
all; these islands are in darkness."--

For presumably the gas-mains, as well as the cables, have been 'severed'
(imposing word!)--

--"Under a heavy cloud of woe. Invasion is in the air, our armies
are mustering in the south. We are cut off from the world, and can
only fitfully perceive what is happening. Our liners have been
captured or sunk on the high seas; our ocean tramps are in our
enemies' hands; British trade is dead, killed by the wholesale
ravages of the hostile cruisers. Our ports are insulted or held up
to ransom, when news reaches us from India it is to the effect that
the enemy is before our troops, a native insurrection behind.
Malta has fallen, and our outlying positions are passing from our
hands. Food is contraband, and may not be imported. Amid the jeers
of Europe 'the nation of shopkeepers' is writhing in its death
agony."

Pretty, is it not? But let us have just a little more.

"COMMERCIAL COLLAPSE.

"And what of the internal, of the social position? Consols have
fallen to nearly 30; our vast investments in India have been lost;
trade no longer exists. . . . The railways have no traffic to carry.
. . . Banks and companies are failing daily. . . The East End of
London is clamouring for bread and peace at any price. If we fall,
we fall for ever. . . . The working man has to choose whether he will
have lighter taxation for the moment, starvation and irretrievable
ruin for the future . . ."

--And so on, till Z stands for Zero, or nothing at all. Or, as the late
Mr. Lear preferred to write:--

"Z said, 'Here is a box of Zinc, Get in, my little master!
We'll shut you up; we'll nail you down: we will, my little master!
We think we've all heard quite enough of this your sad disaster!'"

To speak as seriously as may be, the language is no longer hortatory, like
Holland's, but minatory, even comminatory. It is (as its author would not
deny) the language of panic deliberatel