manism, assume the character of an intellectual emetic. A much-admired contemporary novelist, depicting a wedding ceremony in fashionable society circles, describes the feelings of his hero, a young man disgusted with the hollowness and vanity of "Society" and all its ways, as follows:—"The bride was opposite him now, and by an instinct of common chivalry he turned away his eyes; it seemed to him a shame to look at that downcast head above the silver mystery of her perfect raiment; the modest head full, doubtless, of devotion and pure yearnings; the stately head where no such thought as 'How am I looking this day of all days, before all London?' had ever entered: the proud head, where no such fear as, 'How am I carrying it off?' could surely be besmirching.... He saw below the surface of this drama played before his eyes; and set his face, as a man might who found himself assisting at a sacrifice." Now, I ask, can it be believed that the writer of the above flamboyant feminist fustian is a novelist and playwright of established reputation who undoubtedly has done good work. The obvious criticism must surely strike every reader that it is somewhat strange that this divinely innocent creature he glorifies should arise straight out of a milieu which is shown up as the embodiment of hollowness and conventional superficiality. If men can lay the butter on thick in their laudation
