the chafing fetters that are early placed upon inquiring youth. It is the system, as a whole, that is responsible and culpable.

The effect of this confounded and confounding education is to turn out masses of individuals ready to imbibe all sorts of ideas and opinions, but lacking all save purely instinctive means of deciding between the worthy and the unworthy. They can absorb, but they cannot select, like blotting-paper. Ideas come to them, like drops of ink, spread over the surface of their poor parched minds, and gradually become dry permanent stains. The first produce the greatest impression; subsequent drops of the same colour deepen the impression, and new and different ideas, in the form of drops of a different hue, fight a mute battle and end in sullen compromise, the earliest impression almost always predominating. Perhaps Gilbert was thinking in this way when he wrote:

I often think it comical

How Nature always does contrive
That every boy and every girl

That's born into the world alive

Is either a little Liberal

Or else a little Conservative.

But, be this as it may, it is indisputable that modern popular education does produce exactly the type of mind most easily swayed by a stunt.' Whether this has been deliberately contrived or not I do not know. There are many prominent and influential men whose interests have been, and are, well served by the blotting-paper type of mind. One who was a master of the art of ‘stunting' is now serving a long and terrible sentence. It is sad and humiliating to think that the law must punish those who demonstrate us to ourselves. In this case the 'stunter' was a man of enormous ability, both in conceiving and executing 'stunts' of all kinds. He might have been Prime Minister had he not chosen to flirt all his life rather dangerously with the law, which is, fortunately, almost a deity in the cosmos of the average Englishman. He had all the qualities essential to success, for he appreciated the deep truth contained in the following verse, which, in view of its relevance and in spite of its having been composed by an uncle of mine, I may perhaps be pardoned for quoting : If you want to succeed in the world

You must take up your trumpet and blow it,
See your banner is freely unfurled,

And take every occasion to show it.

If you only make plenty of noise

And plenty of show to begin it—
'Tis that which the public enjoys,

They're sure to think something is in it!

But because he was found to have flagrantly offended the law this potential Premier is now and for ever discredited. He has

performed at least one most valuable public service: he has clearly shown that the power of the stunt' confounds reason and paralyses perception; and I have only ventured to suggest that he is for ever' discredited because the onus of advancing years and the rigours of a prison life must tend to sap the energy till it falls below the level essential to the contrivance and operation of gigantic stunts.' But though the spell of this magician is broken, the public is still capable of exploitation by similar necromancers; and so it will remain until ' education' becomes education, and provides it with the only sure shield against 'stunts.' At present it is at the mercy of any brilliant 'stunt 'deviser.

The stunt' section of the Press cannot claim to be innocent of the charge of pandering to the blotting-paper mind. It may think it waste of time to cast pearls before swine; but it should at least try to give the 'swine' ideas above worn-out husks. The British public is remarkably intelligent considering the life-long handicaps which beset it. Its education and environment tend to bemuse it, and it is only because of its caution and stability-qualities instinctive rather than intellectual-that it has saved itself from ruin. But it is quite time that we made use of the national intellect; and until we develop this quality we shall hover on the edge of an exceedingly unattractive precipice.

The first step must be in the direction of better education. I do not know whether this need necessarily be more expensive education, but even if this should be the case the additional expense must be borne. We spend millions abroad, impertinently trying to set other peoples' houses in order, seeing the mote in their eye, but remaining oblivious to the beam in our own. Far better it were to refrain from such interference until we ourselves are free from reproach. Education is the one thing this country cannot teach to its sister States. Much of the wonderful work that Great Britain has done in Egypt will be undone through a mistaken educational policy. We can teach, and set a peerless example, in many other branches of the art of government, but we invariably break down in the province of public instruction.

This question is undoubtedly the most urgent of the day. One would not think so, because so little public attention is drawn to it, for as yet nobody has thought of a compelling 'stunt' on the subject. But education such as we have subverts the first principles of democracy; and this is where, in my humble view, the Dean of St. Paul's is misled. He feels that democracy has failed, because he regards this country and France and Italy and various others as democratic States. They are not, nor have they ever been. They do indeed have democratic constitutional forms; but they are not truly and essentially democratic. Abraham Lincoln defined democracy as 'Government of the people by

the people for the people'; and this has never yet been tried. How can people govern in their own interests when they do not even know where those interests lie?

The first essential of democracy is an intelligent electorate, a 'stunt '-proof, sane and instructed electorate. How many elections have been won by catch-phrases-slogans, as they are sometimes called, which are really condensed 'stunts'? How many inferior and incapable men have been conjured into high office by their genius for 'stunting' alone? How many great and noble men have remained mute and inglorious through their lack of that genius?

The existence of a National Assembly of elected representatives is not a guarantee of democracy. We are establishing what we euphemistically term 'Representative Government' in Egypt; but is there anyone who supposes that it will succeed? Democratic constitutional forms in such a country are most dangerous, for they serve only as a cloak for the machinations of an unscrupulous oligarchy; and they are virtually nothing more than a fraud.

And so it is, in a less acute degree, in this country. The sham democracy which we enjoy, and to which Dean Inge may well object, is a menace, for it begets a smug contentment which is founded upon a false belief. We believe that we are governing ourselves; but we are not, except in so far as we are allowed to make a mark on a ballot-paper once at least in every five years. This gives to the individual the physical sensation of being a member of a self-governing community; but we are not allowed the intellectual sensation of considering in full and in all its details the issue upon which we vote. Stunts 'make up our minds for us.

Government by 'stunt' is a reality. How long we shall tolerate it remains to be seen. It contains, of course, a sporting element, and so long as we permit the welfare of our country to remain the stake in a game of chance, just so long shall we maintain our discredited and discreditable educational system. It is a sense of proportion, above all, that we must develop, for at present ours is so vitiated that no doubt we shall acclaim our next distinguished film visitor with greater enthusiasm than that with which we shall honour the return of General Sir Charles Harington, who has saved the world, for a time at least, from another war.

The greatest 'stunter' is not necessarily the greatest statesman. If he were, things would be simpler. But the ingredients of successful statesmanship differ widely from those of successful 'stunt '-devisement; and it is imperative that we should as quickly as possible bring to an end a state of affairs under which proficiency in 'stunting' is the essence of success.

REYNELL J. R. G. WREFORD.

THE BRIDGE

Two children leaned upon the bridge of Chance.
The night was cold, the moon crouched low
And cut the shadows with his silver lance.

But neither spoke. Now old, they know

The spell which bound that arch of phantom stone.
Pale lines across the East are drawn,

Star-drenched, a huddled figure dreams alone.

No bridge the silence spans-but Dawn.

N. WALKER.

The Editor of THE NINETEENTH CENTURY cannot undertake to return unaccepted MSS.

DURING recent years many of my friends have sought my advice in reference to the position of the Conservative Party, and I welcome the opportunity which is afforded me of explaining my views to a wider circle.

While the questions put to me naturally varied according to the individual views held by those who approached me, I found a strong feeling that when the complete fusion of the Conservative and Liberal Unionist Parties took place in 1912 the word 'Conservative' should have been preserved as the name of the whole party. At that time, however, in the opinion of many Liberal Unionists the name Conservative' was, for some mysterious reason, more objectionable to them than even that of 'Tory.' After a great deal of discussion and many meetings, which I attended, it was decided that the whole party should be called Conservative and Unionist' or Unionist and Conservative.' Many Conservatives, in their desire to ratify the arrangement which had been arrived at with loyalty and generosity, adopted the name ' Unionist.' This arrangement left a great deal of heart157

VOL. XCIII-No. 552

M