VENUS TAKES THE SCEPTRE

Only Gilbert and Sullivan could do justice to England's royal marry-go-round. In the center ring the emperor of one sixth of the world kneels before a twice-divorced charmer from the southland, while on either side the lords temporal and spiritual beat their breasts in dismay, the American press makes the cables blush, and there is distinct teeth gnashing in the orchestra pit. Last week the Communist Party investigated reports that Mrs. Simpson was pro-fascist, but the situation is losing its farcical nature, and certain events show that England's ruling class is profoundly disturbed.

So real are the chances of Edward's marriage to Mrs. Simpson that Prime Minister Baldwin just made an agreement with the head of the Labor Party not to force an election on the issue of Parliamentary approval. Repeated warnings from the cabinet have failed to awe the King, and the London Times speaks guardedly of the creation of a Council of State, the machine which carries on a monarch's duties when for some reason he is unable to fulfill them. Edward is like a bull in a china shop, breaking traditions every time he moves, and it is clear that the ruling class wishes that someone else were King. In a visit to the slums of South Wales Edward's actions, gave the impression that he would like to help but was hampered by Parliament, thus further irritating the cabinet.

If Edward continues to beat his head against customs, he will be unhappy and will wear off the crown the lustre which his three predecessors worked hard to add. The way out of the maze is for him to resign, handing over the sceptre to a regent in trust for the Princess Elizabeth, daughter of the Duke of York and heir apparent. This dignified gesture would hurt the crown much less than the current hush-hush hocus pocus, and would allow all parties to breathe easier.