Far be it
from me to say that England is not the favourite of Heaven; but at
this moment she reminds me more of what the prophet Isaiah calls, 'a
bull in a net.' She has satisfied herself in all departments with
clap-trap and routine so long, and she is now so astounded at finding
they will not serve her turn any longer! And this is the moment,
when Englishism pure and simple, which with all its fine qualities
managed always to make itself singularly unattractive, is losing that
imperturbable faith in its untransformed self which at any rate made
it imposing,--this is the moment when our great organ tells the Celts
that everything of theirs not English is 'simply a foolish
interference with the natural progress of civilisation and
prosperity;' and poor Talhaiarn, venturing to remonstrate, is
commanded 'to drop his outlandish title, and to refuse even to talk
Welsh in Wales!'
But let us leave the dead to bury their dead, and let us who are
alive go on unto perfection. Let the Celtic members of this empire
consider that they too have to transform themselves; and though the
summons to transform themselves he often conveyed harshly and
brutally, and with the cry to root up their wheat as well as their
tares, yet that is no reason why the summons should not be followed
so far as their tares are concerned.
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