position that it can only be accounted for by saying that if, as M. Delaisi argues, government is impossible unless a myth of some kind is foisted upon the “people,” then, so far as Scotland is concerned, its present disastrous condition is due to the fact that the existing myth is out of touch with realities to a degree so abnormal that history presents no parallel to it. Discussing the possibilities of a Scottish Renaissance I have written elsewhere that the Credit Reform proposals of Major C. H. Douglas will be “discerned in retrospect as having been one of the great contributions of re-oriented Scottish genius to world-affairs,” and that I wished to record my unqualified pride and joy in the fact that of all people in the world a Scotsman—one of the race that has been (and remains) most hag-ridden by commercial Calvinism, with its hideous doctrine of ‘the need to work,’ ‘the necessity of drudgery,’ and its devices of ‘thrift,’ and the whole tortuous paraphernalia of modern capitalism—should have absolutely ‘got to the bottom of economics,’ and shown the way to the Workless State. It is significant that practically the only, and certainly the only real (if, unfortunately, only very partial and temporary) political triumph Scotland has scored over England since the Union of the Parliaments took place just over 100 years ago: and was associated with the name of a great Scotsman and with precisely the type of business which it has since become almost physically impossible to think—let alone speak—about. The Banking System! I refer to Sir Walter Scott’s _Letters of Malachi Malagrowther_. Just how much Scott (albeit a Tory of Tories, and a national liability rather than an asset in most respects), was roused by the Government’s proposal that Scottish Banks should cease to issue notes “in order to unify paper currency throughout the United Kingdom,” can be gauged from his veiled threat that “claymores have edges.” Scott’s agitation was so far successful that the Government dropped their proposals inasmuch as they related to the Scotch pound notes—for the time being. “Very probably,” says a recent writer, “they realized that there was real determination behind Scott’s reference to claymores—even if it did not actually mean the wielding of these lethal weapons to enforce the protest.” All who are in earnest about Scottish Home Rule should take a note of that. Evidences of “real determination” must be forthcoming if anything is to be achieved. The Parliamentary record of the Scottish Home Rule question would long ago have driven protagonists of any mental and moral calibre to the realization that an irresistible premium had been put upon the recourse to militant methods, and that anything else is a waste of time—“an expenditure of spirit in a waste of shame.”