tion of the truth of his opinions, an admirable quality in a man. We
cannot but admire his immense forcefulness and agility, the fertility of
his mind, and the swiftness of its play. But we utterly refuse to fall
down and worship him on account of these. Indeed the kind of awe with
which he is regarded in some quarters seems to be due rather to the
eccentricities of his expression than to the greatness of his message or
the brilliance of his achievements.

There is no question of his earnestness. The Puritan is deep in Mr.
Shaw, in his very blood. He has indeed given to the term Puritan a
number of unexpected meanings, and yet no one can justly question his
right to it. His _Plays for Puritans_ are not exceptional in this
matter, for all his work is done in the same spirit. His favourite
author is John Bunyan, about whom he tells us that he claims him as the
precursor of Nietzsche, and that in his estimation John Bunyan's life
was one long tilt against morality and respectability. The claim is
sufficiently grotesque, yet there is a sense in which he has a right to
John Bunyan, and is in the same line as Thomas Carlyle. He is trying
sincerely to speak the truth and get it spoken. He appears as another of
the destroyers of shams, the breakers of idols. He may indeed be claimed
as a pagan, and his influence will certainly preponderate in that
direction; and yet there is a strain of high idealism which runs
perplexingly through it all.

The explanation seems to be, as Mr. Chesterton suggests, that the man is
incomplete. There are certain elementary things which, if he had ever
seen them as other people do, would have made many of his positions
impossible. "Shaw is wrong," says Mr. Chesterton, "about nearly all the
things one learns early in life while one is still simple." Among those
things which he has never seen are the loyalties involved in love,
country, and religion. The most familiar proof of this in regard to
religion is his extraordinary tirade against the Cross of Calvary. It is
one of the most amazing passages in print, so far as either taste or
judgment is concerned. It is significant that in this very passage he
actually refers to the "stable at Bethany," and the slip seems to
indicate from what a distance he is discussing Christianity. It is
possible for any of us to measure himself against the Cross and Him who
hung upon it, only when we have travelled very far away from them. When
we are sufficiently near,