at the lady to whose public spirit and sense of the national
value of the theatre I owed the first regular public performance of
a play of mine had to conceal her action as if it had been a crime,
whereas if she had given the money to the Church she would have worn
a halo for it. And I admit, as I have always done, that this state of
things may have been a very sensible one. I have asked Londoners again
and again why they pay half a guinea to go to a theatre when they can
go to St. Paul's or Westminster Abbey for nothing. Their only possible
reply is that they want to see something new and possibly something
wicked; but the theatres mostly disappoint both hopes. If ever a
revolution makes me Dictator, I shall establish a heavy charge for
admission to our churches. But everyone who pays at the church door
shall receive a ticket entitling him or her to free admission to one
performance at any theatre he or she prefers. Thus shall the sensuous
charms of the church service be made to subsidize the sterner virtue of
the drama.

The Next Phase

The present situation will not last. Although the newspaper I read at
breakfast this morning before writing these words contains a calculation
that no less than twenty-three wars are at present being waged to
confirm the peace, England is no longer in khaki; and a violent reaction
is setting in against the crude theatrical fare of the four terrible
years. Soon the rents of theatres will once more be fixed on the
assumption that they cannot always be full, nor even on the average half
full week in and week out. Prices will change. The higher drama will
be at no greater disadvantage than it was before the war; and it may
benefit, first, by the fact that many of us have been torn from the
fools' paradise in which the theatre formerly traded, and thrust upon
the sternest realities and necessities until we have lost both faith in
and patience with the theatrical pretences that had no root either in
reality or necessity; second, by the startling change made by the war
in the distribution of income. It seems only the other day that a
millionaire was a man with L50,000 a year. To-day, when he has paid his
income tax and super tax, and insured his life for the amount of his
death duties, he is lucky if his net income is 10,000 pounds though his
nominal property remains the same. And this is the result of a Budget
which is called "a respite for the rich." At the other end of the scale
mill