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rather struck by his unkempt look； and it made my reaction all the
stronger。 There was about him something； a kind of raw and bleeding
faith in the deep things of life； that stirred me profoundly as he
showed it。 My set of people had irritated him and disappointed him。
I discovered at his touch how they irritated him。 He reproached me
boldly。 He made me feel ashamed of my easy acquiescences as I
walked in my sleek tall neatness beside his rather old coat； his
rather battered hat； his sturdier shorter shape； and listened to his
denunciations of our self…satisfied New Liberalism and
Progressivism。
〃It has the same relation to progressthe reality of progressthat
the things they paint on door panels in the suburbs have to art and
beauty。 There's a sort of filiation。 。 。 。 Your Altiora's just the
political equivalent of the ladies who sell traced cloth for
embroidery； she's a dealer in Refined Social Reform for the Parlour。
The real progress； Remington； is a graver thing and a painfuller
thing and a slower thing altogether。 Look！ THAT〃and he pointed
to where under a boarding in the light of a gas lamp a dingy
prostitute stood lurking〃 was in Babylon and Nineveh。 Your little
lot make believe there won't be anything of the sort after this
Parliament！ They're going to vanish at a few top notes from Altiora
Bailey！ Remington！it's foolery。 It's prigs at play。 It's make…
believe； make…believe！ Your people there haven't got hold of
things； aren't beginning to get hold of things； don't know anything
of life at all； shirk life； avoid life； get in little bright clean
rooms and talk big over your bumpers of lemonade while the Night
goes by outsideuntouched。 Those Crampton fools slink by all
this；〃he waved at the woman again〃pretend it doesn't exist； or
is going to be banished root and branch by an Act to keep children
in the wet outside public…houses。 Do you think they really care；
Remington？ I don't。 It's make…believe。 What they want to do； what
Lewis wants to do； what Mrs。 Bunting Harblow wants her husband to
do； is to sit and feel very grave and necessary and respected on the
Government benches。 They think of putting their feet out like
statesmen； and tilting shiny hats with becoming brims down over
their successful noses。 Presentation portrait to a club at fifty。
That's their Reality。 That's their scope。 They don't； it's
manifest； WANT to think beyond that。 The things there ARE；
Remington； they'll never face！ the wonder and the depth of life；
lust； and the night…sky；pain。〃
〃But the good intention；〃 I pleaded； 〃the Good Will！〃
〃Sentimentality；〃 said Britten。 〃No Good Will is anything but
dishonesty unless it frets and burns and hurts and destroys a man。
That lot of yours have nothing but a good will to think they have
good will。 Do you think they lie awake of nights searching their
hearts as we do？ Lewis？ Crampton？ Or those neat； admiring；
satisfied little wives？ See how they shrank from the probe！〃
〃We all；〃 I said； 〃shrink from the probe。〃
〃God help us！〃 said Britten。 。 。 。
〃We are but vermin at the best； Remington；〃 he broke out；〃 and the
greatest saint only a worm that has lifted its head for a moment
from the dust。 We are damned； we are meant to be damned； coral
animalculae building upward； upward in a sea of damnation。 But of
all the damned things that ever were damned； your damned shirking；
temperate； sham…efficient； self…satisfied； respectable； make…
believe； Fabian…spirited Young Liberal is tbe utterly damnedest。〃
He paused for a moment； and resumed in an entirely different note：
〃Which is why I was so surprised； Remington； to find YOU in this
set！〃
〃You're just the old plunger you used to be； Britten；〃 I said。 〃
You're going too far with all your might for the sake of the damns。
Like a donkey that drags its cart up a bank to get thistles。
There's depths in Liberalism〃
〃We were talking about Liberals。〃
〃Liberty！〃
〃Liberty！ What do YOOR little lot know of liberty？〃
〃What does any little lot know of liberty？〃
〃It waits outside； too big for our understanding。 Like the night
and the stars。 And lust； Remington！ lust and bitterness！ Don't I
know them？ with all the sweetness and hope of life bitten and
trampled； the dear eyes and the brain that loved and understoodand
my poor mumble of a life going on！ I'm within sight of being a
drunkard； Remington！ I'm a failure by most standards！ Life has cut
me to the bone。 But I'm not afraid of it any more。 I've paid
something of the price； I've seen something of the meaning。〃
He flew off at a tangent。 〃I'd rather die in Delirium Tremens；〃 he
cried； 〃than be a Crampton or a Lewis。 。 。 。〃
〃Make…believe。 Make…believe。〃 The phrase and Britten's squat
gestures haunted me as I walked homeward alone。 I went to my room
and stood before my desk and surveyed papers and files and
Margaret's admirable equipment of me。
I perceived in the lurid light of Britten's suggestions that so it
was Mr。 George Alexander would have mounted a statesman's private
room。 。 。 。
3
I was never at any stage a loyal party man。 I doubt if party will
ever again be the force it was during the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries。 Men are becoming increasingly constructive and
selective； less patient under tradition and the bondage of initial
circumstances。 As education becomes more universal and liberating；
men will sort themselves more and more by their intellectual
temperaments and less and less by their accidental associations。
The past will rule them less； the future more。 It is not simply
party but school and college and county and country that lose their
glamour。 One does not hear nearly as much as our forefathers did of
the 〃old Harrovian；〃 〃old Arvonian；〃 〃old Etonian〃 claim to this or
that unfair advantage or unearnt sympathy。 Even the Scotch and the
Devonians weaken a little in their clannishness。 A widening sense
of fair play destroys such things。 They follow freemasonry down
freemasonry of which one is chiefly reminded nowadays in England by
propitiatory symbols outside shady public…houses。 。 。 。
There is； of course； a type of man which clings very obstinately to
party ties。 These are the men with strong reproductive imaginations
and no imaginative initiative； such men as Cladingbowl； for example；
or Dayton。 They are the scholars…at…large in life。 For them the
fact that the party system has been essential in the history of
England for two hundred years gives it an overwhelming glamour。
They have read histories and memoirs； they see the great grey pile
of Westminster not so much for what it is as for what it was； rich
with dramatic memories； populous with glorious ghosts； phrasing
itself inevitably in anecdotes and quotations。 It seems almost
scandalous that new things should continue to happen； swamping with
strange qualities the savour of these old associations。
That Mr。 Ramsay Macdonald should walk through Westminster Hall；
thrust himself； it may be； through the very piece of space that once
held Charles the Martyr pleading for his life； seems horrible
profanation to Dayton； a last posthumous outrage； and he would； I
think； like to have the front benches left empty now for ever； or at
most adorned with laureated ivory tablets： 〃Here Dizzy sat；〃 and 〃On
this Spot William Ewart Gladstone made his First Budget Speech。〃
Failing this； he demands； if only as signs of modesty and respect on
the part of the survivors； meticulous imitation。 〃Mr。 G。；〃 he
murmurs； 〃would not have done that；〃 and laments a vanished subtlety
even while Mr。 Evesham is speaking。 He is always gloomily disposed
to lapse into wonderings about what things are coming to； wonderings
that have no grain of curiosity。 His conception of perfect