and some may insinuate that we are not very likely ever to meet them in the Strand.  A man wearing whiskers is not even compelled to plead some sort of excuse or authority for wearing whiskers, as the Jew can for wearing ringlets; and though the Anglican clergyman may indeed be very loyal to his mother church, there might be considerable hesitation if his mother bade him bind his hair.  Nevertheless a more historical view of the London and Jerusalem crowds will show as far from impossible to domesticate such symbols; that some day a lady’s jewels might mean something like the sacred jewels of the Patriarch, or a lady’s furs mean something like the furred turban of the Rabbi.  History indeed will show us that we are not so much superior to them as inferior to ourselves.

When the Crusaders came to Palestine, and came riding up that road from Jaffa where the orange plantations glow on either side, they came with motives which may have been mixed and are certainly disputed.  There may have been different theories among the Crusaders; there are certainly different theories among the critics of the Crusaders.  Many sought God, some gold, some perhaps black magic.  But whatever else they were in search of, they were not in search of the picturesque.  They were not drawn from a drab civilisation by that mere thirst for colour that draws so many modern artists to the bazaars of the East.  In those days there were colours in the West as well as in the East; and a glow in the sunset as well as in the sunrise.  Many of the men who rode up that road were dressed to match the most glorious orange garden and to rival the most magnificent oriental king.  King Richard cannot have been considered dowdy, even by comparison, when he rode on that high red saddle graven with golden lions, with his great scarlet hat and his vest of silver crescents.  That squire of the comparatively unobtrusive household of Joinville, who was clad in scarlet striped with yellow, must surely have been capable (if I may be allowed the expression) of knocking them in the most magnificent Asiatic bazaar.  Nor were these external symbols less significant, but rather more significant than the corresponding symbols of the Eastern civilisation.  It is true that heraldry began beautifully as an art and afterwards degenerated into a science.  But even in being a science it had to possess a significance; and the Western colours were often allegorical where the Eastern were only accidental.  To a certain extent this more philosophical ornament was doubtless imitated; and I have remarked elsewhere on the highly heraldic lions which even the Saracens carved over the gate of St. Stephen.  But it is the extraordinary and even exasperating fact that it was not imitated as the most meaningless sort of modern vulgarity is imitated.  King Richard’s great red hat embroidered with beasts and birds has not overshadowed the earth so much as the billycock, which no one has yet thought of embroidering with any such natural