rge Cadbury--a professional non-better--in
educating these people should allow them to keep on in his paper, having
a betting column?

So long as he really helps stave off John Bottomley Bull and Mrs. John
Bottomley Bull, let him slump into being a millionaire, if he cannot
very well help it! We say, some of us, let him even make cocoa! or have
family prayers! or be a Liberal!

At least this is the way one American visiting England feels about it,
if he may be permitted.

Perhaps I would not, if I were an angel.

I do not want to be an angel.

I am more ambitious. I want my ideals to do things, and I want to stand
by people who are doing things with their ideals, whether their ideals
are my ideals or not.

* * * * *

Let us suppose. Suppose the reader were in Mr. Cadbury's place. What
would he do? Here are two things, let us suppose, he wishes very much.
He wishes a certain class of people would not bet, and he also wishes to
convince these same people of certain important social and political
ideas for which he stands. If he told them that he would have nothing to
do with them unless they stopped betting, there would be no object in
his publishing their paper at all. There would be nothing that they
would let him tell them. If, on the other hand, he begins merely as one
more humble, fellow-human being, and puts himself definitely on record
as not betting himself, and still more definitely as wishing other
people would not bet, and then admits honestly that these other people
have as good a right to decide to bet as he has to decide not to; and if
he then deliberately proceeds to do what every real gentleman who does
not smoke and wishes other people did not, does without
question--namely, offers them the facilities for doing it why should
people call him inconsistent?

Perhaps a man's consistency consists in his relation to his own smoking
and betting and not in his rushing his consistency over into the smoking
and betting of other people. Perhaps being consistent does not need to
mean being a little pharisaical, or using force, or cutting people off
and having no argument with them, in one matter, because one cannot
agree with them in another. Of course, I admit it would be better if Mr.
Cadbury would publish in a parallel column (if he could get a genius to
write it) an extremely tolerant, human, comrade-like series of
objections to betting, which people could read alongside,