only peculiar in the way it supported that conception by assuming that, consent having once been given, marriage could not be dissolved by subsequent events. That was a daring way of asserting the dignity of marriage; but it was a fiction.

Protestantism, which so clearly saw the fiction of Catholic marriage, failed to see that it also founded marriage on a fiction, and of an equally glaring and mischievous kind. The Protestant conception of marriage, which is that of the modern world generally, is rather vague, but it is in its essence secular and in its popular atmosphere romantic. That is to say, it is narrowed down to a kind of legal sex contract which is held to be sufficiently sanctified by the promise of exclusive and permanent mutual sex love. Such a promise, even in the union of the most devoted lovers, is a fiction. It can never be kept, and the recognition that it cannot be kept, combined with a cowardly fear to acknowledge that fact, plunges our marriages into deceit and misery. That does not, of course, mean that every married couple is entitled to enter the divorce court. There are endless gradations between the secret desire and the technical act of adultery. What it means is that we have so strenuously inculcated this romantic fiction into the young couple that when they privately discover that it is a fiction they are overwhelmed with a sense of personal guilt, and only in rare instances dare to confide in each other and to attain that mutual sincerity and trust which might well be regarded as in itself, even in the absence of sexual fidelity, the finest form of marriage. Our marriages are only saved from disaster when they are saved-by a readjustment from the fictive romantic basis on to something more stable, but the change is usually painful, troublesome, and imperfect, gen

erally leaving a feeling on both sides of disillusionment, and each party

keeps hidden

Love's private tatters in a private Eden.

The divorce movement, excellent as it has been, has helped to fortify the romantic view of marriage; it has concentrated attention on the erotic side of marriage as though that were not only a highly important element but the sole content of marriage, and its diversion an adequate reason for dissolving the union.

Nothing seems clearer than that today we no longer have any use for romantic fictions in marriage. We may be thankful that the youth of to-day


whatever extravagant reactions they may sometimes fall into have been sufficiently open-eyed and levelheaded to realize that fact. But we do not find presented any definite conception of the ideal of marriage on a nonromantic basis. On that account I would attach significance to Count Keyserling's essay, 'The Correct Statement of the Marriage Problem,' in The Book of Marriage. It has seemed to some readers rather obscure, to some pedantic, to others grim, and many of us would propose to reformulate the statement at some points. But it yet remains the most important statement we possess of the marriage problem as it presents itself to-day, and is well worth the study it demands.

The point at which Count Keyserling is specially apt to repel the reader is in rejecting the ideal of the 'happy marriage.' He does not consider that marriage is, or should be, merely a 'happy' condition. It is more than a sexual union; it is the bond of two equal and independent personalities, striving through that mutual relationship to attain a self-development neither could achieve in isolation, and that process cannot fail to involve pain as well as

lovers cannot expect their relationship to continue as it began, nor is that even desirable; for there is nothing more unpleasant than the spectacle of two people so absorbed in each other that they are inapt for all the large and fruitful ends of social life. But they can always cultivate an erotic comradeship of mutual sincerity and trust constituting a deep and tender communion, even strong enough, if need be, to remove the sting from what would otherwise be infidelity, although such a communion is the best protection against infidelity.

There we are brought up to the ancient problem of jealousy. 'I found them one morning in each other's arms

joy; the ideal of comfort and ease may be better sought in a pigsty. For those who find this conception too exalted there are two considerations to bear in mind. In the first place, it is a mistake to suppose that men and women are afraid of difficulty and pain; all our lives bear witness that both are accepted, even welcomed, when they seem worth while, and that marriage is the best marriage which most fully corresponds to the real image of life. Moreover, no possible form of marriage could evoke more heroism than that which, so often unnecessarily and unprofitably, is shown in our conventional marriages, alike by husbands and by wives. In the second place, as Key--and I killed them,' wrote in his serling points out, no one is bound to marry; not only is it possible to find erotic gratification outside marriage, but such gratification can never safely be made the main end of marriage. There are many people, also, especially saints and artists, who would be well advised to leave marriage severely alone. It is only too easy to find warning examples. Rudolph Valentino, who was the conspicuous symbol to the world of the romantic fiction of love, believed in it himself, but, as he is reported to have confessed shortly before his death, he had ‘lived in hell,' for 'fate mocks us artists.'

If Keyserling presents what he would himself regard as a satisfyingly tragic conception of marriage, as that which we are now approaching, there are more pleasantly beneficent features about it which he scarcely seems to have adequately set forth. The loss of the pretty romantic fiction is more than fully compensated for by the loss of the probable or certain disillusion. The way is open for making marriage, not only, in Keyserling's phrase, an interpolar tension of two units constituting a higher unit, but also, in the large sense, an erotic comradeship. The two

autobiography three centuries ago the Spanish captain, Contreras, of his wife and her lover. The justification for such high-handed action has gone; we no longer regard husband and wife as each other's property; adultery to-day seems to be regarded as less a matter for tragedy than for comedy. But the emotional basis subsists. Jealousy is natural, an animal instinct that we may observe even in our domestic animals. We become civilized humans by conquering it, and those who are unable to do so are unfitted to deal with modern marriage. Marriage, indeed any love relationship, must always be a discipline; but it is also an art. The rediscovery of the existence of the art of love is, indeed, one of the grounds for expecting an increase in the stability of marriage as well as in its charm. And how far marriage in any given case can admit of wider affectionate relationships must ever be a difficult and fascinating problem, to evoke the finest developments of discipline and of art.

Judge Lindsey enables us to see on how large a scale these problems are now being faced and grappled with, not only in Europe and among ourselves, but as far away as Colorado.

His fame is world-wide as Judge of the Juvenile and Family Court of Denver, and in his own city he has become the friend and helper of young people and married folk alike, who come to him privately in difficulties and troubles which are, of course, chiefly over matters of sex. He is himself happily married, and he disclaims any wish to make fundamental changes in the marriage system, but he shows us how in the minds and the practical actions of men and women to-day the conceptions which Keyserling and others set forth in philosophic form are slowly moulding the actual world.

A few years ago such considerations as these would have seemed merely Utopian. To-day we are able to see that the changes around us are but the wholesome continuation of a long tradition, merely the novel shape of an ancient substance, a new way to pay the old debt to Nature or to God. But it is a new way which, though it may introduce evils that we knew not before, is likely to remove many evils that we already know too well. So that for one, at all events, who has worked in this field, it is possible to say, 'Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.'



[London Mercury]

AGAINST a tree that might be any tree,
Mid leaves of every season, sits a lady
In silk and velvet, with equable soft eyes.
Her hair is like a shell smooth with the sea,
Her face is porcelain; and in that shady
Green stirless bower she sits, beyond surprise,
And in her lap an unread letter lies.

Is it that color makes the loveliness?
Is it that never-recoverable serene?
Is it the fingers lying gently laced?
Is it the mingling light and shadowiness
That draws my eyes, the ever-living green
That draws my heart? Never to be embraced,
Maybe, by warm soft hands her hidden waist.

Love loves not reasons, and I know not why
I love her; maybe but because she is mine,
Or because first on her my questions fell
As I peered at her with a childish eye,

And hers looked down at me with tranquil shine,
While I thought of the letter that might well -
If she dare read it all her story tell.

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Britain's Slow Revival

GREAT BRITAIN'S foreign trade returns for March showed a marked improvement as compared with February, exports increasing by forty-five million dollars. During the first three months of the year, however, the country's visible adverse trade balance was nearly six hundred million dollars, or more than one hundred million dollars greater than for the corresponding period last year. According to the British census of production, the agricultural output of the United Kingdom averages between forty and forty-five dollars per acre annually, or about one thousand dollars per farm worker. Two-thirds consists of live stock and live-stock products, one-fifth of field crops, of which grain constitutes one half, and the remainder of fruits, vegetables, and flowers. The United Kingdom produces slightly more than one half of the meat its people use. Apparently depression and unemployment have not hit the British kitchen, for per capita meat consumption is higher to-day than in the past, and total consumption reached a record of two million tons last year. Although less than the average quantity of American cotton was manufactured in Great Britain last season, more Empiregrown cotton was marketed there than ever before. Since the war, deliveries from this source have more than doubled. The Lancashire mills are having a boom after the recent depression, and of the five hundred and seventy-nine thousand insured employees in the industry less than three per cent are now idle. Nevertheless, a great change is occurring in the cotton

manufacture to the detriment of Great Britain. Since 1913 the number of spindles in the world has increased fourteen per cent. In China the number has risen two hundred and forty-one per cent, in Japan one hundred and forty-two per cent, in India forty per cent, and in the United States nineteen per cent. But in Great Britain the increase has been less than three per cent. As a result of the growing dispersion of cotton mills to what have been hitherto nonindustrial countries, international trade in cotton yarns and fabrics has declined nearly one fourth since 1914, although the amount of cotton manufactured has risen more than seven per cent.

Among the interesting industrial reports of the past month is that of the Dunlop Rubber Company, Ltd., which has factories in the United States, France, Germany, and other countries, as well as the largest group of rubber estates in the British Empire. According to the Company's chairman, 1926 was a bad tire-buying year all over the world. This was partly due to the sensational rise in the price of raw rubber, which caused a buyers' strike, especially in the United States. People patched up old tires and used their spares. A second reason for the decline in sales was the introduction during 1924 and 1925 of longer-lived cord tires in place of canvas tires, which reduced the number of replacements in 1926. Lever Brothers' annual report also reviews world-wide operations. Besides this company's great soap, oil, and margarine factories in the mother country, the Dominions, the United States, and almost every land of

Europe, including Yugoslavia, Poland, and Finland, — it has more than one quarter of a billion dollars invested in various enterprises producing raw materials. These include a whaling station in South Georgia, palm nut plantations and crushing mills in the Congo, and copra enterprises in the Philippines and the South Seas. Many of these subsidiary companies do not operate under the firm name of the parent corporation, but are allied with it through stock control. In mentioning a new factory under construction at Buenos Aires, the chairman said: 'We have already a large and lucrative export trade to South America, but the heavy duties necessitate very high selling prices, and a factory is therefore a desirable step in the development of our trade in this part of the world.' British boot and shoe companies, which in several instances combine merchandising with manufacturing, also did a fairly good business last year. The two largest firms in the trade paid twenty per cent and twenty-two and one-half per cent dividends, and during the past five years have given their respective shareholders a total return of ninety per cent and one hundred and seven per cent upon the par value of their investments. British tobacco shares, which were boomed by the announcement of extraordinarily high profits for 1926, have slumped abruptly as a result of the increase in the tobacco duty. A reaction has also occurred in nitrate shares, which, after a brief recovery, have again developed a downward tendency. The average monthly output of iron and steel in Great Britain during the first three months of the year exceeded eight hundred thousand tons, and was higher by one third than the average for either 1925 or 1913. The engineering trades are also prosperous, and the amount of shipping under construction in British yards

during the first quarter of 1927 was nearly one and one-quarter million tons. Though less than the average before the war, this is the largest amount since December 1924. With this revival the engineering unions have begun to agitate for higher wages, and at a conference with the employers last month pointed out that during the past four years Great Britain had lost by emigration more than forty-three thousand skilled machinists and metal workers, most of whom had migrated to the United States.

Something of a sensation was caused in the British business world by the announcement that the Southern Railway had given a contract for twentythree electric generators, to be used in connection with the electrification of its London suburban lines, to a Swedish firm. This order, which amounted to six hundred thousand dollars, was lost to British makers because they are associated in a 'ring,' which is alleged not only to hold up prices but also to pool its business, and which tried to compel the Company to agree to terms and conditions for future work which it could not prudently accept. The manufacturers admit frankly that they have had a 'ring' for the past ten or eleven years. They defend their action by the fact that similar rings or their equivalent exist in every other country. The electrical industry is so standardized that it costs different firms about the same to manufacture identical machinery. Consequently they must charge about the same prices, and any marked deviation from them is detrimental to business as a whole.

Conferences continue between British industrialists and their Continental colleagues. Early in April representatives of Big Business in Italy met their English confrères at London for what press reports represent as a rather Platonic discussion of their common

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