the extension and observance of existing agreements before proposing to negotiate new ones?

The new agreements which the American Secretary of State is understood to be contemplating bind the contracting parties, in the event of an otherwise insoluble dispute, not to have recourse to arms until the International Commission of Inquiry, established by the last Hague Convention, and acting on its own initiative, has investigated and reported upon the question at issue. The idea is that the Commission will take at least six months to hear both sides and its report, and that prepare in the interval opinion will have cooled The Outlook.

and reason have reasserted itself.

With what authority, one may ask, does Mr. Bryan, whose quality as a statesman was long ago assessed, put forward such a proposal? With what authority does it come from the United States-a Power remote from the imminent contentions of Europe, and a mere looker-on at the game of Weltpolitik? Do Great Britain and America stand in the slightest need of any such cement to bind them closer together? And what, finally, are the chances that the Senate will ratify any such agreements without profound and devitalizing modifications? I gravely fear that Sir Edward Grey is heading straight for another Anglo-American fiasco.

Sydney Brooks.

Two voices were there on the Unionist side in the debate upon the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill. One was a very loud and raucous voice. It thundered threats of civil war through the speeches of Sir Edward Carson, Mr. Long, and Lord Charles Beresford. The other was a still, small voice, which came at the close of the debate, at the very end of Mr. Bonar Law's speech. Mr. Bonar Law, too, had given us something of the whirlwind and the fire. But it was not the whirl. wind and the fire that spoke the truth and delivered the message, but the still, small voice that came after them. And this still, small voice we seem to hear in Mr. Bonar Law's concluding sentences. If Mr. Redmond could persuade him that what he proposes is "not utterly detested by one-third of the people of Ireland, in that case we should all rejoice. If you can bring in a Bill that is just and possible we will welcome it." There, surely, spoke the saner mind of the Unionist Party.

As to civil war, only one thing need be said here. This talk of forcewhether it is bluff or whether it is earnest is a game that two can play at, and that both can lose at. This is a time when, under certain aspects, the social question has become more acute than it has been since the days of the Hungry 'Forties. Never before were such large masses of organized men more rebellious against the conditions under which they live. Is the Conservative Party-the party of law and order the party which stands to lose by the destruction of property and the disappearance of respect for Governmentgoing to teach these masses of men, by precept and by example, the lesson that it is not necessary to bow to constituted authority, as represented by King, Parliament, and Courts of Law? If it elects so to do, it may be sure that the masses will apply the lesson for their own benefit. They also are organized, and it is possible for them also to drill, in the first place, for bluff, and, in the last resort, conceivably,

with as serious intentions as those which animate Ulster. Short of drilling, short of threats of civil war, it is possible for them to use tactics of violence, and to make every labor dispute the excuse for a commotion. For generations, responsible leaders and all advisers of organized labor have combined to dissuade them from any such course. "Conquer the ballot" they have said. "Obtain the ultimate control of Parliament. Secure for yourselves that the law be just. Seek your aims through law, but not over or against law." They have urged these counsels in the interests of the working classes, in the interests of the community and of civilization. How can the counsellors of working men continue to urge this advice with any prospect of success, or even with the internal feeling of sincerity, when the sanctity of law and order is overthrown by those whose one claim to their position in the community is that they are the supports of ordered authority? We trust it is not too late for the Unionist Party to reflect on considerations of this kind, and to ask themselves seriously to what issue they are leading England-we will not say by the deeds which they contemplate, but by the threats of which they make use for purposes of impressing public opinion.

We pass to the more fruitful side of the debate. Under the Parliament Act, no amendments can be included in the Bill, but suggestions may be made which, if adopted by both sides, can ultimately become law. Is it possible at this stage to make any suggestions which would mitigate the hostility of Ulster, or, at any rate, remove the last Possibility of substantial injustice to the minority in the four Unionist counties? Every Liberal speaker, we think, and Mr. Redmond himself, showed keenness to discover a practical line of approach to a peaceful settlement; but,

at present, every such line appears to be barred by the resolute determination of Ulster itself. Ulster has no proposals to make. It does not claim to be a nation. It does not ask to be separate from the rest of Ireland. It does not ask to remain united with England and Scotland. It does not ask to be an independent community. It will look at no guarantees. Its attitude is that of a sheer, simple refusal to consider any alternative to the existing situation.

Now, that is not permanently a possible position. Considering the hopes that have been raised in Ireland as a whole, considering the stage to which the present Bill has been carried, and all that has been said upon the Unionist side three years ago—and even, for that matter, during the recent course of the discussion-it is clear that, even if the Liberal Party should be defeated before Home Rule has come into active being, the Unionists themselves would have to construct some scheme of self-government, which they might call by another name, but which would have to concede a large measure of the Irish demand for recognition as a nationality. It is the perception of this truth, we think, which underlies that tentative effort towards conciliation which we have found at the close of Mr. Bonar Law's defiances and denunciations. And this is the cardinal fact with which Ulster, if she retains any wisdom, must reckon. She may count upon a Liberal defeat, but that will not save her. Home Rule can now be said, with some confidence, to be coming, whether through this Bill and the present Government, or through another Bill and the next Government.

But, in the meantime, is it possible at this moment to make any attempt towards conciliation? When Ulster has learnt wisdom, her spokesman will perhaps indicate the lines upon which

she can be approached. Almost any advance consistent with a real admission of Irish nationality might then be made to her, with the goodwill, not only of Mr. Asquith, but also of Mr. Redmond. Doubtless there would be in Ireland a very strong dislike to anything that should actually separate the four Protestant counties from the rest of the country. But even such a concession might appear to the eye of statesmanship worth tendering for the sake of an assured settlement. Unfortunately, at this moment, there is not the smallest evidence that any such proposal would contribute a single mite to the easement of the situation. Ulster presents a blank wall, behind which she laughs or frowns at every offer of peace. The Unionist Party, except in those sane moments of which Mr. Law gave us an example, backs her up, and cheers her threats of force. As long as this position continues, we

do not see how the Liberal Party could profitably make advances. Whatever it offers will be used against it. Next year, when the reality has come a little closer, the mood of men may be different, and the opportunity of statesmanship may come. We trust that it will be so. The object of British Liberals is to hold the balance fairly between the two sides in this controversy. So holding it, they cannot overlook the fact that Nationalism represents the great majority of Irishmen; nor do they forget that the four Protestant counties have their claim, as a minority, to protection. If this minority would state its claim, it would be our duty to consider it. The difficulty at present is that it will state no claim except one which implies that it is Ireland, and that is founded upon so complete a distortion of fact that it can only be ignored.

The Nation.

SQUARE.

Synopsis of Previous Chapters. Roger Dangerfield, the famous barrister, is passing through Gordon Square one December night when he suddenly comes across the dead body of a man of about forty years. To his horror he recognizes it to be that of his friend, Sir Eustace Butt, M. P., who has been stabbed in seven places. Much perturbed by the incident, Roger goes home and decides to lead a new life. Hitherto he had been notorious in the London clubs for his luxurious

habits, but now he rises at 7.30 every morning and breathes evenly through the nose for five minutes before dressing.

After three weeks of the breathing exercise, Roger adds a few simple lunges to his morning drill. Detective Inspector Frenchard tells him that he has a clue to the death of Sir Eustace, but that the murderer is still at large. Roger sells his London house and takes a cottage in the country, where he practises the simple life. He is now lunging ten times to the right, ten times to the left and ten times backwards every morning, besides breathing lightly through the nose during his bath.

One day he meets a Yogi, who tells

him that if he desires to track the murderer down he must learn concentration. He suggests that Roger should start by concentrating on the word "wardrobe," and then leaves this story and goes back to India. Roger sells his house in the country and comes back to town, where he concentrates for half-an-hour daily on the word "wardrobe"; besides, of course, persevering with his breathing and lunging exercises. After a heavy morning's drill he is passing through Gordon Square when he comes across the body of his old friend, Sir Joshua Tubbs, M. P., who has been stabbed nine times. Roger returns home quickly, and decides to practise breathing through the ears.

CHAPTER XCI. Preparation.

The appalling death of Sir Joshua Tubbs, M. P., following so closely upon that of Sir Eustace Butt, M. P., meant the beginning of a new life for Roger. His morning drill now took the following form:

On rising at 7.30 A. M. he sipped a glass of distilled water, at the same time concentrating on the word "wardrobe." This lasted for ten minutes, after which he stood before the open window for five minutes, breathing alternately through the right ear and the left. A vigorous series of lunges followed, together with the simple kicking exercises detailed in Chapter LIV.

These over, there was a brief interval of rest, during which our hero, breathing heavily through the back of his neck, concentrated on the word "dough-nut." Refreshed by the mental discipline, he rose and stood lightly on the ball of his left foot, at the same time massaging himself vigorously between the shoulders with his right. After five minutes of this he would rest again, lying motionless except for a circular movement of the ears. Α

cold bath, a brisk rub down and another glass of distilled water, completed the morning training.

But it is time we got on with the story. The murder of Sir Joshua Tubbs, M. P., had sent a thrill of horror through England, and hundreds of people wrote indignant letters to the Press, blaming the police for their neglect to discover the assassin. Detective-Inspector Frenchard, however, was hard at work, and he was inspired by the knowledge that he could always rely upon the assistance of Roger Dangerfield, the famous barrister, who had sworn to track the murderer down.

To prepare himself for the forthcoming struggle Roger decided, one sunny day in June, to give up the meat diet upon which he had relied so long, and to devote himself entirely to a vegetable régime. With that thoroughness which was now becoming a characteristic of him, he left London and returned to the country. with the intention of making a study of food values. CHAPTER XCII.

Love Comes In.

It was a beautiful day in July, and the country was looking its best. Roger rose at 7.30 A. M. and performed those gentle, health-giving exercises which have already been described in previous chapters. On this glorious morning, however, he added a simple exercise for the elbows to his customary ones, and went down to his breakfast as hungry as the proverbial hunter. A substantial meal of five dried beans and a stewed nut awaited him in the fine oak-panelled library; and, as he did ample justice to the banquet, his thoughts went back to the terrible days when he lived the luxurious meateating life of the ordinary man-abouttown; to the evening when he discovered the body of Sir Eustace Butt, M. P., and swore to bring the assassin to vengence; to the day when

Suddenly he realized that his thoughts were wandering. With iron will he controlled them and concentrated fixedly on the word "doughnut" for twelve minutes. Greatly refreshed he rose and strode out into the sun. At the door of his cottage a girl was standing. She was extremely beautiful, and Roger's heart would have jumped if he had not had that organ (thanks to Twisting Exercise 23) under perfect control.

"Is this the way to Denfield?" she asked.

"Straight on," said Roger.

He returned to his cottage, breathing heavily through his ears.

CHAPTER XCIII.

Another Surprise.

Six months went by, and the murderer of Sir Joshua Tubbs, M. P., and Sir Eustace Butt, M. P., still remained at large. Roger had sold his cottage in the country and was now in London, performing his exercises with regularity, concentrating daily upon the words "wardrobe," "dough-nut," and "wasp," and living entirely upon proteids.

One day he had the idea that he would start a restaurant in the EastEnd for the sale of meatless foods.

Punch.

This would bring him in touch with the lower classes, among whom he expected to find the assassin of his two oldest friends.

In less than a year the shop was a tremendous success. In spite of this, however, Roger did not neglect his exercises; taking particular care to keep the toes well turned in when lunging ten times backwards. (Exercise 17.) Once, to his joy, the girl whom he had first met outside his country cottage came in and had her simple lunch of Smilopat (ninepence the dab) at his shop. That evening he lunged twelve times to the right instead of ten.

One day business had taken Roger to the West-End. As he was returning home at midnight through Gordon Square, he suddenly stopped and staggered back.

A body lay on the ground before him!

Hastily turning it over upon its face, Roger gave a cry of horror.

It was Detective-Inspector Frenchard! Stabbed in eleven places!

Roger hurried madly home, and devised an entirely new set of exercises for his morning drill. A full description of these, however, must be reserved for another chapter.

A. A. M.

A learned judge said of Mr. Gladstone that he was often "the worse" for flattery. It is an intoxicant against which few heads are proof. The true cynic and the truly modest man alone remain sober, however strong the dose. Such men are few. Of course, there are plenty of people who believe themselves immune from its effects. Most of them have never tasted it, and some have not known when they were

drunk. They and they only laugh with real ill-nature and without a thought of sympathy when they meet a friend who is palpably "the worse" for the heady stuff which he has taken in. But however ridiculous a man may be when he has had too much flattery, it is certain that a vast number of men are the better for a little. The conscious flatterer is the sycophant-a hateful and despicable per