the next village.
The sacramental separation of one man to be the friend of the fatherless
and the nameless belongs to the true Middle Ages; with their great
attempt to make a moral and invisible Roman Empire; or (as the
Coronation Service says) to set the cross for ever above the ball.
Elaborate local tomfooleries, such as that by which the Lord of the
Manor of Work-sop is alone allowed to do something or other, these
probably belong to the decay of the Middle Ages, when that great
civilisation died out in grotesque literalism and entangled heraldry.
Things like the presentation of the Bible bear witness to the
intellectual outburst at the Reformation; things like the Declaration
against the Mass bear witness to the great wars of the Puritans; and
things like the allegiance of the Bishops bear witness to the wordy and
parenthetical political compromises which (to my deep regret) ended the
wars of religion.

But my purpose here is only to point out one particular thing. In all
that long list of variations there must be, and there are, things
which energetic modern minds would really wish, with the reasonable
modification, to restore. Dr. Clifford would probably be glad to see
again the great Puritan idealism that forced the Bible into an antique
and almost frozen formality. Dr. Horton probably really regrets the
old passion that excommunicated Rome. In the same way Mr. Belloc
would really prefer the Middle Ages; as Lord Rosebery would prefer
the Erastian oligarchy of the eighteenth century. The Dark Ages would
probably be disputed (from widely different motives) by Mr. Rudyard
Kipling and Mr. Cunninghame Graham. But Mr. Cunninghame Graham would
win.

But the black case against Conservative (or Evolutionary) politics is
that none of these sincere men can win. Dr. Clifford cannot get back
to the Puritans; Mr. Belloc cannot get back to the mediaevals; because
(alas) there has been no Revolution to leave them a clear space for
building or rebuilding. Frenchmen have all the ages behind them, and can
wander back and pick and choose. But Englishmen have all the ages on top
of them, and can only lie groaning under that imposing tower, without
being able to take so much as a brick out of it. If the French decide
that their Republic is bad they can get rid of it; but if we decide that
a Republic was good, we should have much more difficulty. If the French
democracy actually desired every detail of the mediaeval monarchy, they