It still contained the unknown--the possible--within its boundaries.

New continents were still to be discovered: we dreamt of giants, Liliputians, desert-fenced Utopias.

We set our sail, and Wonderland lay ever just beyond our horizon.

To-day the world is small, the light railway runs through the desert, the coasting steamer calls at the Islands of the Blessed, the last mystery has been unveiled, the fairies are dead, the talking birds are silent.
Our baffled curiosity turns for relief outwards.

We call upon the dead to rescue us from our monotony.