of the Dead-Sea Apes ceases to be
a fable. The poor Worker starved to death is not the saddest of
sights. He lies there, dead on his shield; fallen down into the
bosom of his old Mother; with haggard pale face, sorrow-worn,
but stilled now into divine peace, silently appeals to the
Eternal God and all the Universe,--the most silent, the most
eloquent of men.

Exceptions,--ah yes, thank Heaven, we know there are exceptions.
Our case were too hard, were there not exceptions, and partial
exceptions not a few, whom we know, and whom we do not know.
Honour to the name of Ashley,--honour to this and the other
valiant Abdiel, found faithful still; who would fain, by work
and by word, admonish their Order not to rush upon destruction!
These are they who will, if not save their Order, postpone the
wreck of it;--by whom, under blessing of the Upper Powers, 'a
quiet euthanasia spread over generations, instead of a swift
torture-death concentred into years,' may be brought about for
many things. All honour and success to these. The noble man can
still strive nobly to save and serve his Order;--at lowest, he
can remember the precept of the Prophet: "Come out of her, my
people; come out of her!"

To sit idle aloft, like living statues, like absurd Epicurus'-
gods, in pampered isolation, in exclusion from the glorious
fateful battlefield of this God's-World: it is a poor life for a
man, when all Upholsterers and French-Cooks have done their
utmost for it!--Nay, what a shallow delusion is this we have all
got into. That any man should or can keep himself apart from
men, have 'no business' with them, except a cash-account
business!' It is the silliest tale a distressed generation of
men ever took to telling one another. Men cannot live isolated:
we _are_ all bound together, for mutual good or else for mutual
misery, as living nerves in the same body. No highest man can
disunite himself from any lowest. Consider it. Your poor
'Werter blowing out his distracted existence because Charlotte
will not have the keeping thereof:' this is no peculiar phasis;
it is simply the highest expression of a phasis traceable
wherever one human creature meets another! Let the meanest
crookbacked Thersites teach the supremest Agamemnon that he
actually does not reverence him, the supremest Agamemnon's eyes
flash fire responsive; a real pain, and partial insanity, has
seized Agamemnon. Strange enough: a many-counselled Ulysses is