tempts to revive former successes of this type proved
absolute failures and the plays were quickly withdrawn; now there were
real tragedies to think about, and the old threadbare, domestic
triangle disappeared from the boards. Revues and musical comedies
succeeded, and "The Man Who Stayed at Home" a war spy play was a
tremendous success, as were the comedies "When Knights Were Bold" and
"Potash and Perlmutter." To be a success a play had to have the merit
of real comedy, or touch some national sensibility of the moment.

No new great literature had appeared, nor had the tragedy of the world
yet brought forth any great poetry. Monographs on special phases of
German character, thought and culture, were plentiful in the
bookstalls, and translations of Bernhardi and Treitschke sold in vast
numbers.

The love of music, so strong in England, was shown by the crowded
attendances at the Queen's Hall and the Albert Hall concerts. A good
deal of Russian music was heard, the Russian National Anthem being
played on every possible occasion. At the Christmas season not a seat
was empty at any of the presentations of the Messiah at Albert Hall.
Yet curiously enough England had banished her military bands, one of
the most effective aids to recruiting, and it was only after a violent
newspaper controversy on the subject had taken place that she used
them again.

Down in the city in Cheapside scarcely a uniform was to be seen; the
heart of ancient London seemed to beat as usual. In the theatre
district at night, particularly on the Strand, Leicester Square and
Piccadilly Circus, crowds of women promenaded as usual, like spiders
hunting for their prey. And the prey was there too, wanting to be
hunted.

This is one of the great tragedies of London,--the terrible maelstrom
of fallen humanity which is allowed to circulate there year after
year, sweeping into its vortex tens and hundreds of thousands of boys
and girls, who, but for it, might and probably would escape. In war
time when soldiers were involved, it was more terrible than ever, for
the results, as the medical men saw them, were disastrous from the
military standpoint alone.

From this great ulcer in the heart of London a deadly poison passes
far and wide into the national organism. The ulcer is there still for
the knife of some strong man to excise, for there is little doubt that
though restrictions will not prevent vice, it is equally true that
making vice open, enticing a