And yet a question which we dare not shirk, a question which a Carlyle, a Ruskin, a William Morris would not have hesitated to formulate.

"Lord knows," protest the polliwogs, "We're anxious to be grown-up frogs; But do not undertake the work Of Nature till she prove a shirk; 'T is not by jumps that she advances, But wins her way by circumstances: Pray, wait awhile, until you know We're so contrived as not to grow; Let Nature take her own direction,