rs are
suddenly assumed, and the old as suddenly discarded.

Long ago, Matthew Arnold, poking fun at the clamours of Secularism,
asked in mockery, "Why is not Mr. Bradlaugh a Dean?" To-day I read,
in a perfectly serious manifesto forwarded to me by a friendly
correspondant, this searching question: "Why is not the Archbishop
of Canterbury Censor of Plays?" It really is a great conception;
and, if adopted in practice, might facilitate the solution of some
perplexing problems. If any lover of the ancient ways should demur
on the ground of incongruity, I reply that this objection might
hold good in normal times, but that just now the "humorous stage"
of public life so abounds in incongruities that one more or less
would make no perceptible difference. Everyone is playing a part for
which, three years ago, we should have thought him or her totally
unqualified. Old habits, old prepossessions--even in some cases old
principles--are cast aside with a levity which even Wordsworth's
young actor could not have surpassed. We all are saying and doing
things of which we should have thought ourselves incapable; and
even our surprise at ourselves, great as it is, is less than our
surprise at our friends.

To begin at the top. I have long held the present Prime Minister in
high admiration. I can never forget--nor allow others to forget--that
he fought for the cause of Justice and Freedom in South Africa
almost single-handed, and at the risk of his life. An orator, a
patriot, a lover of justice, a hater of privilege, I knew him to
be. I did not see in him the makings of a Dictator directing the
destinies of an Empire at war, and in his spare moments appointing
Successors to the Apostles within the precincts of an Established
Church. Certainly of Mr. Lloyd George, if of no one else, it is
true that

"The little actor cons another part,"

and I heartily wish him success in it. But it is true of everyone,
and true in every corner of the stage. Let me strike into the medley
at random. The anti-feminists, where are they? They have changed
their garb and their "lines" so thoroughly that it is difficult
for even a practised eye to recognize them in their new parts.
Lord Curzon is a member of a Cabinet which established the women's
vote, and such stalwarts as Mr. Asquith and Lord Harcourt welcome
with effusion the enfranchisement of the victorious suffragette.

And what of the Pacificists? Where are they? Some, I know, are
in prison,