m; the aristocracy of Anglo-Saxon intelligence--philosophers,
scientists, men of letters, artists--simply loathe him; but all have to
bow to his rule, and submit their works to his most incompetent
criticism, and all are afraid of him.

[Illustration: THE POOR MAN'S SABBATH.]

In a moment of wounded national pride, Sydney Smith once exclaimed:
"What a pity it is we have no amusements in England except vice and
religion!" The same exclamation might be uttered to-day, and the cause
laid at the Anglo-Saxon "unco guid's" door. It is he who is responsible
for the degradation of the British lower classes, by refusing to enable
them to elevate their minds on Sundays at the sight of the masterpieces
of art which are contained in the museums, or at the sound of the
symphonies of Beethoven and Mozart, which might be given to the people
at reduced prices on that day. The poor people must choose between vice
and religion, and as the wretches know they are not wanted in the
churches, they go to the taverns.

It is this same "unco guid" who is responsible for the state of the
streets in the large cities of Great Britain by refusing to allow vice
to be regulated. If you were to add the amount of immorality to be found
in the streets of Paris, Berlin, Vienna, and the other capitals of
Europe, no fair-minded Englishman "who knows" would contradict me, if I
said that the total thus obtained would be much below the amount
supplied by London alone; but the "unco guid" stays at home of an
evening, advises you to do the same, and ignoring, or pretending to
ignore, what is going on round his own house, he prays for the
conversion--of the French.

The "unco guid" thinks that his own future safety is assured, so he
prays for his neighbors'. He reminds one of certain Scots, who inhabit
two small islands on the west coast of Scotland. Their piety is really
most touching. Every Sunday in their churches, they commend to God's
care "the puir inhabitants of the two adjacent islands of Britain and
Ireland."

A few weeks ago, there appeared in a Liverpool paper a letter, signed "A
Lover of Reverence," in which this anonymous person complained of a
certain lecturer, who had indulged in profane remarks. "I was not
present myself," he or she said, "but have heard of what took place,"
etc. You see, this person was not present, but as a good "Christian," he
hastened to judge. However, this is nothing. In the letter, I read:
"Fortunately, there are in