was actually made; and it was abandoned, not in the least as
contrary to the liberty of the stage, but because the executive
problem of how to do it at once reduced the proposal to
absurdity. Even if the Council devoted all its time to witnessing
rehearsals of variety performances, and putting each item to the
vote, possibly after a prolonged discussion followed by a
division, the work would still fall into arrear. No committee
could be induced to undertake such a task. The attachment of an
inspector of morals to each music hall would have meant an
appreciable addition to the ratepayers' burden. In the face
of such difficulties the proposal melted away. Had it been pushed
through, and the inspectors appointed, each of them would have
become a censor, and the whole body of inspectors would have
become a police des moeurs. Those who know the history of such
police forces on the continent will understand how impossible it
would be to procure inspectors whose characters would stand the
strain of their opportunities of corruption, both pecuniary
and personal, at such salaries as a local authority could be
persuaded to offer.

It has been suggested that the present censorship should be
supplemented by a board of experts, who should deal, not with the
whole mass of plays sent up for license, but only those which the
Examiner of Plays refuses to pass. As the number of plays which
the Examiner refuses to pass is never great enough to occupy
a Board in permanent session with regular salaries, and as casual
employment is not compatible with public responsibility, this
proposal would work out in practice as an addition to the duties
of some existing functionary. A Secretary of State would be
objectionable as likely to be biased politically. An