Life — June 8, 1922 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JUNE 8, 1922 “While there is Life there’s Hope” Published by LIFE PUBLISHING COMPANY Vol. 79. No. 2066 London Offices, Rolls House, Breams Bldgs., London, E. C. London. Wik does not let go its hold on this world without a struggle. It was struggling hard at Genoa to keep its job as arbiter of the destinies of the nations. One gets a general impression that Mr. Lloyd George is doing his best to beat it, and that M. Poincaré holds to the conviction that it is still an indispensable factor in human af- fairs. France just now is highly proficient in war and seems in- clined to rely more or less on that proficiency to provide her, as far as possible, with funds to meet her en- gagements, thereby reducing the bur- den of taxation which Frenchmen do not seem to shoulder with the reso- lute responsiveness that the English show. If any one wants evidence of the strength of the hold that war has upon the human imagination he has only to walk about in any great capi- tal and look at the monuments. For the most part they are monuments to victory, or to generals or admirals who were successful fighters, or to royal personages who personified the management that produced victories. King Edward VII was in his person as unmilitary a potentate as one could well think of, though exceed- ingly proficient in diplomacy and the arrangement of alliances. Here in London there is a bronze figure of him, not standing, the familiar stout gentleman with a cigar in his hand and being agreeable in just the right way to the right person at the right time, but on a high horse on a high pedestal, with feathers in his hat, and spurs on his royal heels. In King Edward’s hands the pen - Booth? 598 Madison Avenue, New York was much mightier than the sword, but no pen, neither quill nor foun- tain, did the sculptor give him. St. Paul’s Cathedral is a temple of Mars, full of generals and admirals, with Wellington at the top; good and valiant men undoubtedly, most of them, and -worth their monu- ments, but after all, not the only pebbles on the long beach of time. There are others besides the cap- tains and the kings to whom the world owes something and in the Abbey, to be sure, that is recognized. But is there anywhere in London a monument to John Wesley? There was a man of enormous importance and value and devotion and ability, beside whom a large proportion of the objects of public sculpture were mere rushlights, but his work was done outside of the organization, and it is the great machine of govern- ment that sees to public monuments. Has it put one up yet to General Perhaps some day it will. John Wesley was a general and a great organizer; Booth was like unto him with differences. They both worked notably and success- fully on the most necessary of all jobs, to improve character in the world and make the mass of men fitter to live,—in short, to beat the Devil, which is, to be sure, the same job the Field Marshals and Admirals have been on when they have been really useful. LAS, this foolish world! this foolish race of men, which wanders so obtusely in its course, and moves so slowly and by such bloody paths from indirection to di- rection! Will Lloyd George have a monument in London some day? Probably he will, about the tine, perhaps, when a monument to Mr, Wilson comes to seem necessary to the embellishment of New York, But his late job, to beat the Devil at Genoa, was an exceedingly compli- cated and difficult task. It has looked at times as though it could not be done without first beating the French, but the two tasks are not identical. None of the Allied na- tions wants to beat the French. The trick is to beat the Devil and _per- suade the French to countenance and abet the performance. That is what, at this writing, Lloyd George secms to have been trying to do, with the immediate issue doubtful. James Barrie IR JAMES BARRIE has en- joyed, if he has not honestly earned, the reputation of being the shyest man in England, which, since the United States and Canada are not likely to enter the competition, may be taken to mean the shyest in the English-speaking world. And if there is any ordeal at which a man stands in need of all the shyness he can summon to his aid, it is that of his instalment as Rector of St. Andrews. Sir James’ address, as an expres- sion of shyness, is a model of per- fection—so perfect is it that one be- comes suspicious of the source of its perfection, and asks oneself whether it be possible that any one (quite apart from his being Scotch) comicbooks.com