being strongly impressed by its comic aspect. If he followed up his "country-in-a-trance" figure of speech a little way, Mr. Austin himself must have been tickled more than his essay indicates. Just as the subjects of ordinary mesmerism do many ludicrous things, the subjects of political mesmerism excite us to melancholy amusement as well as to alarm. In its own wan way the average Liberal or Conservative Association affords quite as good an entertainment as the theatre in the season of pantomime and burlesque! Depressing though it also is, it is certainly amusing to see the wizened little chairman drawing himself up to his full stature, striving to expand a chest chronicly contracted by a life's work at desk or at counter, straining his voice into a bass croak, and calling upon his associates to buckle on their armour for the fight. I wonder whether he and they would be so valorous were the fight to be anything more serious than a bloodless battle of dirty tricks and seedy sophisms. It is certainly amusing to observe the greengrocer, for example, solemnly told off to "work a certain district of the town, like the disciple of some modern Loyola entrusted with a serious mission in the interests of faith. In appointing the greengrocer, the Association is actuated solely by the consideration that, although in politics he may be as ignorant as the townsman who did not know a bull from a bee's foot, the working man must be recognised and deferred to it never occurs to the Association that to proselytise a portion of the community requires any qualification whatever. There are other vanities and follies in the Association inclining one to merriment; but we need not now go into them. I mention the comic aspect of the subject in order to point the suggestion I have made. Ridicule is often more effective than reason; and it does seem to me that the sure way to bring the country out of its trance is to show it how ridiculously that trance causes it to behave. Let the patriotic Press show up the absurdities that flow from following the injunction to "Organise! organise! organise!" and men will soon begin to think that they have made fools of themselves long enough.

The result, I know, would be ill-favoured in the eyes of Professor Goldwin Smith. Democracy would be disorganised. That, however, would not be in any way deplorable. I see no reason why those who estimate it rightly should wish Democracy organised, any more than they would desire to see a similar service done by St. Vitus' Dance. As much as that phenomenon, Democracy is a malady; and, very much more than it, Democracy is a curse to civilisation. To stimulate it and to hound it on, as our Party System does, is absolutely suicidal. It is to rob man of all his natural dignity, and to leave him a wretched creature, the incarnation of vanity and folly.

Some may think that without political organisation we should

ere long see Professor Huxley's dogma illustrated by the decay of public spirit. There is no reason to contemplate such a contingency. What would die with the death of political associations would be merely the bastard monstrosities that, as Mr. Spencer tells us, have demoralised our modern society. The stereotyped lines of our present party division would certainly be obliterated, and caucuses would no longer live to forward the designs of ambitious men. Neither of those results, however, would be fraught with ill to anybody. On the contrary, each of them would be fraught with good to all. To a very large extent, our two great parties are artificial combinations; and, therefore, they cannot be expected, either separately or in rivalry with each other, to work naturally and healthfully. The leading literary exponent of Democracy admits that as handsomely as any one could wish. Criticising some opinions of my own, the Spectator dropped the remark that "professional journalists know quite well that if they were independent they would develop just as many sets of opinions as they are persons." Well, then if the most cultivated and most thoughtful class in the nation are thus agreed that the ties binding the members of any party to one another are thoroughly artificial, why, I ask in the name of common sense, should anybody wish to preserve them?

*

If there were no organisation such as that at present in vogue, the root of our misfortunes would be cut. The individual man would be liberated from the degrading thraldom of being a political associate; society would once more grow into its natural vitality; and the country would cast off the congestion that, since it began the futile effort to digest Democracy, has impeded it in the discharge of its work. In ceasing to be a Liberal or a Conservative associate, the uneducated citizen would rid himself of the "monstrous belief" that, although nobody would trust him with the architecture of a coal-shed, he is perfectly capable of revising the architecture of an empire; and he would find scope for the exercise of his energies in his own business and family affairs, as well as abundant happiness in sport or in recreation. Candidates for seats in Parliament, who would be more numerous than they are at present, would come forth with some genuine political theory to be earnestly expounded, for they would have no compact party upon which to rely; and thus, although the votes cast would be much fewer than under our present system, the nation would have a more faithful representation, for each member of Parliament would bring to bear upon legislation the largest body of coherent and definite opinion in his constituency, instead of, as at present, a huge body of opinion that is coherent and definite only in being the negation of the other moiety. Elections would cause less

*The Spectator for April 4th, 1885, p. 446.

excitement than at present, and, on the whole, those only would vote who had some idea as to what they were voting about; but that would be to purify public spirit, not to kill it.

We have only two courses to choose from. Either we may organise Democracy, or we may disorganise it. If we adopt the one course, we shall, all competent observers are agreed, perpetuate and accentuate "faulty aims and doings," Cæsarism, sham philanthropy, and political superstition: at least, we shall do so while yet degeneration has not relieved us of the power to do anything at all. If we adopt the other, casting off the hideous ailments under which it is at present suffering, the nation will give itself a chance to avoid the fatal destiny otherwise in near-at-hand store for it.

Society will surely give grave consideration to the question I have sought to bring clearly to the issue. There is but a very small remnant of honest followers of wisdom; and they who are of these few, and who have tasted how sweet and blessed a possession is wisdom, and who can fully see, moreover, the madness of the multitude, and that there is no one, we may say, whose action in public matters is sound, and no ally for whosoever would help the just, what are they to do?" Thus it was that the question we have now to face presented itself to Plato. How shall it be answered by those, the thinkers and the patriots of England, to whom it is now addressed? Shall it be answered, as in Plato's time, by a haughty holding-aloof from the vulgar energisings by which the life of our nation is being sapped away? Surely, no. Let us realise and act upon the meaning of Mr. Spencer's saying that stands as the text of this article: let us by derision and all other means at our command scorch out the leaden democratic instincts that no political alchemy can turn to beneficial purpose. That task accomplished, " confidence in the destiny of our race" will cease to be the cant of political fatalism, and will become the expression of an intelligent and creditable idea.

W. EARL HODGSON.

"VOX CLAMANTIS."

THE exposure of the vices of London culminated in the Hyde Park Demonstration. All the harm that could be done by the Pall Mall Gazette has been done. It is now the duty of citizens to consider the position, and decide what practical good is possible. The earnestness of men of ordinary morality has been quickened. Those who for years have worked in the cause of social purity have found a sympathetic audience. The ordinarily immoral man has been brought to face the ultimate results of courses similar to those which he is himself pursuing, and the latent sense of chivalry which he possesses has been roused by the knowledge of the cruelty of vice. The extraordinarily immoral man has been forced by the only sentiment which appeals to him the sentiment of fear-to think whether publicity may not one day bring him to open shame. Women have been obliged to consider the sin and shame attending the lives of their fallen sisters and their own relation to the whole question.

For some time it has been a matter of disgrace and complaint that two moral standards exist in England, the one for men, the other for women. The average Englishman expects that the women with whom he is connected by ties of blood or service shall be pure. He is even shocked that the innocence of any with whom he is connected should run the risk of being tainted by philanthropic effort. But as regards his male relations he seems not to care one jot what their private life may be; he puts the question on one side with the remark that so-and-sois sowing his wild oats," "boys will be boys," and the like.

This line of argument obviously ends in a dual standard of morality. Women must be pure, but men need not, so long as they avoid inconvenient scandal. To such an extent is this opinion. carried, that in certain circles those who hold aloof from vicious courses are regarded as contemptible purists, something less than

As one result of this dual standard, the following instance may be quoted. A lady for years had been interested, in the dilettante way which some ladies affect, in the rescue work carried on by a few of her friends. Her sons were of the type of ordinarily immoral men, and their immorality was concealed from all except from a few most intimate friends. This lady was induced to visit a well-known place of amusement in order to bring away

a girl who had once been persuaded to abandon her "sad, mad, bad" life. During conversation the lady observed that the girl bestowed a friendly greeting on a young man, who, after passing, turned to look at the girl and the lady who were so earnestly. talking. A look of mutual recognition followed. The mother recognised her son, whom she believed to be rowing down the Thames. This instance proves one point, that no permanent inprovement is possible without an uniform standard. To frown on the sinners of one sex, and ignore the identical sins in the other, is as unfair as it is unprincipled. We are thus brought face to face with two alternatives; either the present standard for one sex is absurdly high, or for the other it is scandalously low. Either we must boldly advocate a return to social life of the Hetaira, or we must fix a social ban on immoral men.

The man of the world will probably answer that sins of impurity are less harmful to man's moral nature than to woman's. But although this argument is frequently brought forward, it is difficult to see its logic. The law of purity is binding, because on it rests the home, and home life is the basis not only of society but of civilisation. Vice, whether in man or woman, whether published or concealed, breaks up homes. When a man once sins he regards all women and all home life with altered eyes; for him family life has lost its sanctity and charm; he can never again regard women as in the days of his innocence. For every man, whether controlled or licentious, woman is the ideal of purity. By helping to still further degrade a degraded woman he lowers his own ideal, and hence the whole current of his thoughts is vitiated. He regards all men and women through mud-coloured spectacles, and for him the world is fouled.

no doubt less hard for a man to win back a character than for a woman, but this is only because the world is willing to forgive the sins in one sex, but not in the other. Theft, murder, lying, are judged independently of sex; why should impurity be differently treated? In moral questions sex is an accident, not an essential; if the law of purity is binding on women, it is binding

on men.

The physiological aspect of the question cannot be here discussed, but doctors do not hesitate to say that continence is not injurious to health, and one of the greatest physicians of our day has recently declared "that marriage can safely be waited for." There are many men, no doubt, who through weakness of will and carelessness of life have reduced themselves to the level of brutes; but we must also hear the evidence of those who have fought the good fight and have conquered. If men inflame their passions by overfeeding, by overdrinking, by brooding on subjects which tend to impurity, by giving up physical exercise when they most need it, they hand themselves over to a power which they will with difficulty master. But victory even by such men has been won,