he thought of it with anger and the old amazement — all this had been at first, when the discovery had flashed over a startled world. While the thing was new it had been a great question, truly the greatest of all, but it had been one which affected men's minds and not their bodies. That is speaking of the world at large.
As has already been pointed out, only religious people — a vast host, but small beside the mass of Englishmen — were disturbed seriously by what had happened. The price of bread remained the same; beef was no dearer.
During these first weeks Schuabe had been all-powerful. He and his friends had lived in a constant and stupendous triumph.
But now — and in his frightful egoism he frowned at the thick black head-lines in the newspapers — the whole attitude of every one was changed. There was a reflex action, and in the noise it made Schuabe was forgotten.
Men had more to think of now. There was no time to congratulate the man who had been so splendidly right.
Consols were at 65!
Bread was rising each week. War was imminent. On all sides great mercantile houses were crashing. Each fall meant a thousand minor catastrophes all over the country.
The antichristians had no time to jeer at the Faithful; they must work and strain to save their own fortunes from the wreck.
The mob, who were swiftly bereft of the luxuries which kept them in good-humour, were turning on the antichristian party now. In their blind, selfish unreason they cried them down, saying that they were responsible for the misery and terror that lay over the world.
With an absolute lack of logic, the churches were crowded again. The most irreligious cried for the good
