st, or cad. If, living in Italy, you admire
Italian art while despising Italian religion, you are a tourist, or cad.
It does not matter how many years you have lived there. Tourists will
often live a long time in hotels without discovering the nationality
of the waiters. Englishmen will often live a long time in Italy without
discovering the nationality of the Italians. But the test is simple. If
you admire what Italians did without admiring Italians—you are a
cheap tripper.

The same, of course, applies much nearer home. I have remarked elsewhere
that country shopkeepers are justly offended by London people, who,
coming among them, continue to order all their goods from London. It is
caddish to wink and squint at the colour of a man's wine, like a wine
taster; and then refuse to drink it. It is equally caddish to wink and
squint at the colour of a man's orchard, like a landscape painter; and
then refuse to buy the apples. It is always an insult to admire a thing
and not use it. But the main point is that one has no right to see
Stonehenge without Salisbury Plain and Salisbury: One has no right to
respect the dead Italians without respecting the live ones. One has no
right to visit a Christian society like a diver visiting the deep-sea
fishes—fed along a lengthy tube by another atmosphere, and seeing
the sights without breathing the air. It is very real bad manners.

THE NEW THEOLOGIAN

It is an old story that names do not fit things; it is an old story
that the oldest forest is called the New Forest, and that Irish stew is
almost peculiar to England. But these are traditional titles that tend,
of their nature, to stiffen; it is the tragedy of to-day that even
phrases invented for to-day do not fit it. The forest has remained new
while it is nearly a thousand years old; but our fashions have grown old
while they were still new.

The extreme example of this is that when modern wrongs are attacked,
they are almost always attacked wrongly. People seem to have a positive
inspiration for finding the inappropriate phrase to apply to an
offender; they are always accusing a man of theft when he has been
convicted of murder. They must accuse Sir Edward Carson of outrageous
rebellion, when his offence has really been a sleek submission to
the powers that be. They must describe Mr. Lloyd George as using his
eloquence to rouse the mob, whereas he has really shown considerable
cleverness in damping it down. It