. You will not find them imitating the military valour of
the Moslem. You will not find them imitating the miraculous ecstasy of
the Hindoo. The more you study the "broad" movement of today, the more
you will find that these people want something much less like Chinese
metaphysics, and something much more like Chinese Labour. You will find
the levelling of creeds quite unexpectedly close to the lowering of
wages. Dr. Inge is the typical latitudinarian of to-day; and was never
more so than when he appeared not as the apostle of the blacks, but as
the apostle of the blacklegs. Preached, as it is, almost entirely
among the prosperous and polite, our brotherhood with Buddhism or
Mohammedanism practically means this—that the poor must be as meek
as Buddhists, while the rich may be as ruthless as Mohammedans. That is
what they call the reunion of all religions.

THE ROMANTIC IN THE RAIN

The middle classes of modern England are quite fanatically fond of
washing; and are often enthusiastic for teetotalism. I cannot therefore
comprehend why it is that they exhibit a mysterious dislike of rain.
Rain, that inspiring and delightful thing, surely combines the qualities
of these two ideals with quite a curious perfection. Our philanthropists
are eager to establish public baths everywhere. Rain surely is a public
bath; it might almost be called mixed bathing. The appearance of persons
coming fresh from this great natural lustration is not perhaps polished
or dignified; but for the matter of that, few people are dignified when
coming out of a bath. But the scheme of rain in itself is one of an
enormous purification. It realises the dream of some insane hygienist:
it scrubs the sky. Its giant brooms and mops seem to reach the starry
rafters and Starless corners of the cosmos; it is a cosmic spring
cleaning.

If the Englishman is really fond of cold baths, he ought not to grumble
at the English climate for being a cold bath. In these days we are
constantly told that we should leave our little special possessions and
join in the enjoyment of common social institutions and a common social
machinery. I offer the rain as a thoroughly Socialistic institution. It
disregards that degraded delicacy which has hitherto led each gentleman
to take his shower-bath in private. It is a better shower-bath, because
it is public and communal; and, best of all, because somebody else pulls
the string.

As for the fascination of rain for the