'Pessimism as to the essential dignity of man is one of the surestmarks of the enervating influence of this dream of a celestial glory.'
Mr Frederic Harrison
'Those who can read the signs of the times read in them
that the kingdom of man is at hand'—Professor CLIFFORD
Thou art smitten, o God, thou art smitten; thy curse is
upon thee, O Lord!
And the love song of earth as thou diest, resounds through
the wind of its wings,
Glory to man in the highest, for man is the master of
things
Songs before Sunrise
The magnificent ocean-steamer the Australasian was bound for England,on her homeward voyage from Melbourne, carrying Her Majesty's mails andninety-eight first-class passengers. Never did vessel start underhappier auspices. The skies were cloudless; the sea was smooth as glass.There was not a sound of sickness to be heard anywhere; and whendinner-time came there was not a single absentee nor an appetitewanting.
But the passengers soon discovered they were lucky in more than weather.Dinner was hardly half over before two of the company had begun toattract general attention; and every one all round the table waswondering, in whispers, who they could possibly be.
One of the objects of this delightful curiosity was a large-boned,middle-aged man, with gleaming spectacles, and lank, untidy hair; whosecoat fitted him so ill, and who held his head so high, that one saw at aglance he was some great celebrity. The other was a beautiful lady ofabout thirty years of age, the like of whom nobody present had ever seenbefore. She had the fairest hair and the darkest eyebrows, the largesteyes and the smallest waist conceivable; art and nature had been plainlystruggling as to which should do the most for her; whilst her bearingwas so haughty and distinguished, her glance so tender, and her dress soexpensive and so fascinating, that she seemed at the same time to defyand to court attention.
Evening fell on the ship with a soft warm witchery. The air grew purple,and the waves began to glitter in the moonlight. The passengers gatheredin knots upon the deck, and the distinguished strangers were still thesubject of conjecture. At last the secret was discovered by the wife ofan old colonial judge; and the news spread like wildfire. In a fewminutes all knew that there were on board the Australasian no lesspersonages than Professor Paul Darnley and the superb Virginia St.John.
Miss St. John had, for at least six years, been the most renowned womanin Europe. In Paris and St. Petersburg, no less than in London, her namewas equally familiar both to princes and to pot-boys; indeed, the gazeof all the world was fixed on her. Yet, in spite of this exposedsituation, scandal had proved powerless to wrong her; she defieddetraction. Her enemies could but echo her friends' praise of herbeauty; her friends could but confirm her enemies' description of hercharacter. Though of birth that might almost be called