could understand—turned to each other with the question, Why do women do this? And no man could tell.
Gentlemen, come with me. There is sitting in Westminster in 1910 a Royal Commission on Marriage and Divorce. Not yet even have their findings changed English law. But the commission was appointed to make inquiry into these matters in response to a rising feeling of unrest over the present arrangements. Witnesses, to give evidence that it may be determined what ought to be done, are in 1910 being called. This government commission, it should be noted, quite contrary to precedent, includes among the churchmen and statesmen who have been appointed to decide the question, also two women. One of them, the Lady Francis Balfour, is interrogating a witness whom she has summoned to the stand because she has a particular point that she wishes to elucidate. He is the Bishop of Birmingham, whose church insists that at marriage the woman passes indissolubly into the power of the husband. To the man, it is permitted that he may divorce her for adultery. But so long as these two shall live, not even for that offence on his part may she have release. He may beat her. He may flay her soul. But she is his—unless she gets all of these details spread on the public records and the judges of the courts decide that there are enough of them legally to constitute "cruelty." Then, for adultery together with this cruelty on the part of a husband, a few English women have been allowed divorce. But it
