as great a danger in a democracy as in an autocracy, and it is less capable of remedy. The "divine right of the odd man" "to govern wrong" is too often assumed as an article of political faith. A new generation may think that to quote from an early Victorian writer is to appeal to the "dark ages"; but is there not a warning for all time in Hallam's words, "the absolute Government of the majority is in general the most tyrannical of any"? It is possible to decapitate a king who sets himself above the law, or to deport or destroy a reactionary and tyrannous aristocracy, but against the crimes or follies of an unrestrained majority there is no appeal. Chaos, "red ruin, and the breaking up of laws" follow in their steps. A general and deep sense of responsibility as well as consciousness of power among "the masses" is a necessary condition for welfare in a country with democratic government.

More of the nation's life and development has been concentrated within the last four years than would occupy fifty years of Europe or a "cycle of Cathay" in ordinary times. It has borne sorrows and losses which would have been overwhelming had it been

known beforehand how great they would be; the call for tremendous efforts for which it was totally unprepared has been answered with steady resolve and heroic sacrifice. Faith in human nature has been confirmed. Where there has been failure it has not been through want of courage or any shrinking from duty on the part of the rank and file, but rather from deficiencies in leadership. Imaginative grasp of a position, clear and accurate thinking, leading to prompt and definite action, can hardly be claimed as special characteristics of our race, but once satisfied that a thing has got to be done, that it is "up to them" to do it, checks or defeats, labour or risks do not count. Sooner or later the task is performed. The "recoil" of the British again and again after being pressed back is the striking feature in their history. The spring is not easily wound up, but it has enormous power, and the events of to-day show that it has not lost its elasticity. But how much more might have been accomplished, how much loss and suffering prevented, had knowledge awakened more interest and a prophetic imagination guided and inspired action directed to a definite goal, had we set our ideals clearly before us and carefully thought out the steps to be taken one by one towards their realisation!

The recognition of these conditions is needed now, and will in the coming changes be needed more and more. Enthusiasm and sanity must be united to carry us safely forward. Tradition and custom will count for less either in maintaining or in preventing what is evil. Many old modes of thought, many old habits which checked us in the downward as well as hindered us in the upward path, will have been destroyed by the fire through which we have been passing. We need a conscious plan more than ever for rebuilding and good workmanship in execution detail by detail.

Then take the trowel and see that brick by brick each course is truly laid.

But we are not building a new city on unoccupied ground; there are some foundations truly laid which have withstood the fire and storm and which cannot be disturbed without both risk and useless toil. There are still edifices standing to which time has given a beauty and tradition a sanctity which newer creations cannot possess. They cannot be removed without irreparable loss. Like any other metaphor, that of rebuilding a city as compared with the action of a state, of a nation, after a time of change and trouble, is misleading if pressed too far. Progress for a nation must rather be the growth and development of a living organism adapting itself to new conditions or altered environment. We should "lop the moulder'd branch away," amputate the diseased tissue, as the true Conservative policy, and tend and foster the healthy growths with utmost care, as the true method for the Liberal who aims at improvement and fuller life.

One other thing must be said of the spirit in which the work of Reconstruction should be undertaken, which goes to the root of the whole matter, and a word must be used which we would have avoided if possible—"the word is too often profaned for me to profane it." But search for a substitute has been unavailing.

There are some words which are better unspoken, except in case of necessity, that become soiled by common use. The too ready employment of them may savour indeed of that unctuous tone which makes ordinary Englishmen and boys squirm. "Conscience" is one. When a man speaks of his conscience you at once, and quite rightly, begin to suspect him. He is probably going to refuse some hard task which others are undertaking, to do something which is offensive to his fellows, or at best, in sheer obstinacy to insist on a course of conduct which he knows cannot be justified by reason. Someone has defined "conscience" as the "deification of our prejudices"; the giving of a kind of divine authority

to something we will insist on doing though it brings no good, even causes harm, to ourselves and offends and injures others, or the giving a name which should be sacred as commanding what we want to do for other reasons. A staunch Nonconformist—one of the clearest thinkers and probably the finest preacher of the last generation—how he would have hated the phrase, but one cannot pause for another!—truly said of the passive resisters in his day, "There is a deal more of politics than of conscience in their action." Yet there are times when even the word conscience may have to be used, and no other will suffice. Another is "Duty"—so often put forward as the excuse for people doing something stupid, probably something they have been in the habit of doing and seem unable to give up, but which is really only a nuisance to themselves and also to others. Yet there are under the abused words ideas which should be the guide of life.

The third is "Love"—an earnest and intense desire for the welfare of our fellow-men, keen joy in their happiness, keen sorrow in their troubles. The word is out and shall not, except perhaps in a quotation, be used again. To use the word lightly or without grave reason seems almost a breach of the third clause of the Decalogue, remembering what is said to be its equivalent by one who of all men who have lived had the most intimate means of knowing. All work of reconstruction must be inspired by a spirit of true philanthropy; without that the labour is in vain. There is no other motive power that can move the world in the path of true progress.

It will be said that this is both obvious and to be ignored—a platitude with a flavour of cant. Is it? Do we not hear again and again the appeal to envy and hatred as motives of action, a desire in social life to pull down, if levelling up is not immediately practicable? Is not jealousy of the success of others, whether individuals or classes or states, again and again what really prompts a policy? Even in dealing with the

countries which are our declared enemies, the desire to injure ought not to be our guide. If and when they relinquish the aims and cease from such acts as forced us into war with them and make restitution for the wrongs they have committed, the right policy is, as far as possible, having clue regard to the just claims and interest of our friends, to do what will be for their true benefit also in the long run. No doubt there is a disgraceful and fatal policy, sometimes adopted by English Governments, to be resolutely withstood—the policy of trying "to conciliate our enemies by giving away our friends." We shall hear of it again in dealing both with Ireland and with certain colonies when Germany claims their