YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY.

Franklin Times, Volume 10, Issue 798, 9 January 1923, Page 6

YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY.

THE MODERN WOMAN. Mr Ra*ph Neviil, whose delightful “Mayfair an.d Montmartre” will be remembered ,has again drawn upon his wide experience of men and manneis in “Yesterday and To-day,” He recalls old times, tells amusing antedotes, and points modern contrasts not always to the advantage of the present day. 'Whatever tendencies he may ,ae~ piore, Mr Neviil has only praise for our modern women. In an opening chapter, gallantly dedicated to Radies First,'” he says People speak of the vanished charm of the Victorian young ladies, but those who remember some of these poor young things are inclined to doubt whether the greater freedom enjoyed bv their successors has not been a blessing to society at idffge of which the beaUhy looking, neatly-turned-out modern girl is such a conspicuous and delightful ornament. Despite women’s right to vote and sit on juries, he finds that things remain much as of old. • With a number of ladies political convictions atfe always an affair of the heart, of reasoning from a moderate and unimpassioned point of view they know nothing. While so many modern women 4" e both modest and delightful, the life of a certain kind of wealthy woman consists in buying everything she does not want and paying for nothing she can, help—smiling upon all mankind but her husband, and beinghappy everywhere but at nome. Everyi American visitor to Britain, it is hinted, is becoming alarmed at the huge increase of the Peerage produced by the constant enoblement of wealthy nobodies the choice of an artistoc-ratic husband is now a matter of careful delibreation among wealthy families ini the “States. The aristocracy of birth now counts for practically nothing that of is extremeiy limited in numbers, that of money alone possesses power and commands something which in a remote degree resembles respect, the modern English, notwithstanding their favourite boast as to nor caring faff foreigners, are more tender towards wealthy aliens than any other people in Europe. White, black or yellow, ithey are waimly welcomed by the smafft set provideo they have plenty of cash. Changed Country. In interesting chapters on “New ’Men” and “Old Acres,” Mr Neviil recounts the melancholy tale ot tamous country houses which have been sold, >or dismantled and closed, because the owner cannot keep them open any longer under thcj stress of present taxation. He observes a prowing separation of the classes. , Not only/ did all classes below the ’highest aristocracy mix andj tangle much more easily than they do now. but the trading classes m villages and country towns and the working classes approached very closely to each other—a kind of assocjatioi which is unheard of at the present day. There was indeed no, great social gap between t|ie well-to-do merchant and his housemaid or shop k°The high expectations with which compulsory education was introduced some half Ofentury ago, he considers, have not been justified. One of the tragedies of modern England is the insignificant result produced cm the people in general by our elaborate and extravagant system of education. Piccadilly, as Mr Neviil sees it, is no longer the “radiant and immortal street” It has lost “most of its brilliancy since the war.-. . Asfar as the men affe concerned, their chess is now much about the same a s tha. worn in the Mile End Road.” Discussing as “a modern English characteristic” the idea that human nature can be changed, Mr Neb 11 expresses the opinion that the love oj power, the love of women, and the love of money remain the most powerful incentives in the modern wold cl as they were in the past, that \s why ail chatter of new eras is but idle babble. West End “Control.” A chapter on “Clubland” records many old memories and quaint usages’. The “custom of giving change in silver having the appearance °of being just fresh from the mint prevailed at one or two old West End clubs ,notably at Aithur’s.” It was done by a special method of washing. As a rule the “majority of the members scarcely indulged in any conversation-at ash everything being conducted wi'li the solemnity proper to a house ot mourning.” At one of these abodes of silence in Pall Mall a, meinboi *s reported to have rung for a groom of the chambers and, pointing co a prosprate form on an adjacent sota, said: “I think you had better take that gentleman away; to my certain knowledge he has been lying there for over a week.”

Lost Freedom. There is little social freedom', in London ; everyone is afraid of everyone else. What should be the woffk of the Priest has become that of the Policeman. The convivial; license which prevailed in London some sixty years ago can hardly be realised today. A “dull Londonf’ he suggests, is a reflection of the war, part ot the nation’s aftermath of pain. The result, though the English are natug’ally unwilling to acknowledg’d it, is that the whole nation more 01 less is unconsciously suffering from shock. This is possibly why the peopie put up with so much which then forefathers would have bitterly and actively resented.