The General's office in a military station on the east front in Beotia. An office table with a telephone, writing materials, official papers, etc., is set across the room. At the end of the table, a comfortable chair for the General. Behind the chair, a window. Facing it at the other end of the table, a plain wooden bench. At the side of the table, with its back to the door, a common chair, with a typewriter before it. Beside the door, which is opposite the end of the bench, a rack for caps and coats. There is nobody in the room.

The Mayor's parlor in the Town Hall of Little Pifflington. Lord Augustus Highcastle, a distinguished member of the governing class, in the uniform of a colonel, and very well preserved at forty-five, is comfortably seated at a writing-table with his heels on it, reading The Morning Post. The door faces him, a little to his left, at the other side of the room. The window is behind him. In the fireplace, a gas stove. On the table a bell button and a telephone. Portraits of past Mayors, in robes and gold chains, adorn the walls. An elderly clerk with a short white beard and whiskers, and a very...

The tableau curtains are closed. An English archdeacon comes through them in a condition of extreme irritation. He speaks through the curtains to someone behind them.

On the heights overlooking the harbor of Mogador, a seaport on the west coast of Morocco, the missionary, in the coolness of the late afternoon, is following the precept of Voltaire by cultivating his garden. He is an elderly Scotchman, spiritually a little weatherbeaten, as having to navigate his creed in strange waters crowded with other craft but still a convinced son of the Free Church and the North African Mission, with a faithful brown eye, and a peaceful soul. Physically a wiry small-knit man, well tanned, clean shaven, with delicate resolute features and a twinkle of mild humor.

This little play is really a religious tract in dramatic form. If our silly censorship would permit its performance, it might possibly help to set right-side-up the perverted conscience and re-invigorate the starved self-respect of our considerable class of loose-lived playgoers whose point of honor is to deride all official and conventional sermons.

Exception has been taken to the title of this seeming tomfoolery on the ground that the Catherine it represents is not Great Catherine, but the Catherine whose gallantries provide some of the lightest pages of modern history. Great Catherine, it is said, was the Catherine whose diplomacy, whose campaigns and conquests, whose plans of Liberal reform, whose correspondence with Grimm and Voltaire enabled her to cut such a magnificent figure in the eighteenth century.

(Ein schoner Oktobermorgen im nordostlichen Viertel Londons. In diesem ausgedehnten Bezirk sind die Seitengasschen viel weniger schmal, schmutzig, ubelriechend und stickig als in dem viele Meilen entfernten London von Mayfair und St. James. Hier spielt sich besonders das unelegante Leben der Mittelklassen ab. Die breiten, dichtbevolkerten Strassen sind mit hasslichen eisernen Bedurfnisanstalten, radikalen Klubs und Trambahnlinien, auf denen Ketten von gelben Wagen endlos einziehen, reichlich versehn."

A revolutionist is one who desires to discard the existing social order and try another. The constitution of England is revolutionary. To a Russian or Anglo-Indian bureaucrat, a general election is as much a revolution as a referendum or plebiscite in which the people fight instead of voting. The French Revolution overthrew one set of rulers and substituted another with different interests and different views. That is what a general election enables the people to do in England every seven years if they choose. Revolution is therefore a national institution in England; and its advocacy by an...

(Es ist am 12. Mai 1796 in Norditalien, in Tavazzano, auf der Strasse von Lodi nach Mailand; die Nachmittagssonne strahlt hell herab auf die Ebenen der Lombardei. Sie behandelt die Alpen mit Respekt and die Ameisenhugel mit Nachsicht und wird weder durch die sich sonnenden Schweine und Ochsen in den Dorfern belastigt, noch verletzt durch das kuhle Verhalten der Kirchen gegenuber ihrem Licht."

(An einem schonen Augustmorgen des Jahres 1896 im Operationszimmer eines Zahnarztes. Es ist nicht das ubliche winzige Londoner Loch, sondern das beste Zimmer einer moblierten Wohnung an der Strandpromenade in einem vornehmen Seebad. Der Operationsstuhl mit Gasschlauch und Zylinder steht zwischen der Mitte des Zimmers und einer der Ecken. Wenn man durch das dem Stuhl gegenuberliegende Fenster in das Zimmer hineinsieht, erblickt man den Kamin in der Mitte der dem Beschauer gegenuberstehenden Wand. Links eine Tur."