Some years ago it was the recognised privi lege of an Englishman to button him self up inside his reservo and to remain taciturn in the face of a stranger. It was not accounted to him for insolence, and those who attempted to trespass upon his privacy were fain to retire baffled and uncomplaining. To-day that right has been wrested from him, and he must either speak or take the consequences. Really, this change is a deplorable one. What is the unfortu nate man who loves his privacy to do 1 He cannot fall upon his aggressors and silence them with blows; very often, as in the case that we have quoted, they will be stronger than himself, and his satisfaction will be small. The outlook for those who travel much by tramcars, omnibuses or railways, is a most unpleasant one. Already the quiet traveller is sufficiently annoyed by those who will discuss their private affairs before him, or who fill the common carriage with loud voices and heated arguments upon Home-rule, Socialism, the latest religion; but if he is liable to be forced against his will to take part in such discussions, his condition will be really pitiable. In the wilder part of North America, where privacy is not much respected, the remedy lies in the victim’s pocket. No one there would blame him for drawing a revolver and shooting the bore on the spot; and the bore know ing this, is more circumspect in his manners. But in England, bores are not considered fair game, and the use of the revolver is too strongly dis couraged to recommend it as an ordinary remedy. The loss of our character for tacitur nity means much more than the world thinks. Bit by bit, the veil of privacy is being dragged from us, until soon not a rag will be left. For a long time certain journals have arrogated to themselves the right of inquisition into the innermost chambers of our houses, and of detailing to the world at large the most private and intimate affairs of anyone who has the misfor tune of attracting public attention. Now even the chance stranger fancies that he possesses the right to question and cross-examine any unoffending mortal who crosses his path, and if the reluctance or the impatience of the latter betrays him into any brusqueness of answer—to punch his head. 