precise idea of his rights and a flattering opinion of
his merits; he was peaceable, but ready enough to fight for commercial
advantages, or if roused, for conscience sake. And when this took place
he possessed always the comforting assurance that the Almighty was on
his side; he put his faith without hesitation on the Bible and on the
superiority of the English Nation. For foreigners he had a magnificent
contempt and distinguished between them and monkeys only by a certain
mental effort. Art he thought nasty, literature womanish; he was a Tory,
middle-aged and well-to-do.

But nowadays all that is changed; John Bull, having amassed great
wealth, has been gathered to his fathers and now disports himself in an
early Victorian paradise furnished with horse-hair sofas and mahogany
sideboards. His son reigns in his stead; and though perhaps not
officially recognised as England's archetype, his appearance in novel
and in drama, in the illustrated papers, in countless advertisements,
proves the reality of his sway. It is his image that rests in the heart
of British maidens, his the example that British youths industriously
follow.

But John Bull, Junior, has added his mother's maiden name to his own,
and remembers with pleasure that he belongs to a good old county family.
He has changed his address from Bedford Square to South Kensington, and
has been educated at a Public School and at a University. Young, tall
and fair-haired, there is nothing to suggest that he will ever have that
inelegant paunch which prevented the father, even in his loftiest
moments of moral indignation, from being dignified. Of course he is a
soldier, for the army is still the only profession for a gentleman, and
England's hero is that above all things. His morals are unexceptional,
since to the ten commandments of Moses he has added the decalogue of
good form. His clothes, whether he wears a Norfolk jacket or a frock
coat, fit to perfection. He is a good shot, a daring rider, a
serviceable cricketer. His heart beats with simple emotions, he will
ever cheer at the sight of the Union Jack, and the strains of _Rule
Britannia_ bring patriotic tears to his eyes. Of late, (like myself,) he
has become an Imperialist. His intentions are always strictly
honourable, and he would not kiss the tip of a woman's fingers except
Hymen gave him the strictest rights to do so. If he became enamoured of
a lady with whom such tender sentiments should not be harboured, he