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little woman in what Margaret declared to be an extremely expensive
black dress has also printed herself on my memory； she had set her
heart upon my contributing to a weekly periodical in the lentil
interest with which she was associated； and I spent much time and
care in evading her。
Mingling with the more hygienic types were a number of Anti…Puritan
Socialists； bulging with bias against temperance； and breaking out
against austere methods of living all over their faces。 Their
manner was packed with heartiness。 They were apt to choke the
approaches to the little buffet Margaret had set up downstairs； and
there engage in discussions of Determinismit always seemed to be
Determinismwhich became heartier and noisier； but never
acrimonious even in the small hours。 It seemed impossible to settle
about this Determinism of theirsever。 And there were worldly
Socialists also。 I particularly recall a large； active； buoyant；
lady…killing individual with an eyeglass borne upon a broad black
ribbon； who swam about us one evening。 He might have been a
slightly frayed actor； in his large frock…coat； his white waistcoat；
and the sort of black and white check trousers that twinkle。 He had
a high…pitched voice with aristocratic intonations； and he seemed to
be in a perpetual state of interrogation。 〃What are we all he…a
for？〃 he would ask only too audibly。 〃What are we doing he…a？
What's the connection？〃
What WAS the connection？
We made a special effort with our last assembly in June； 1907。 We
tried to get something like a representative collection of the
parliamentary leaders of Socialism； the various exponents of
Socialist thought and a number of Young Liberal thinkers into one
room。 Dorvil came； and Horatio Bulch； Featherstonehaugh appeared
for ten minutes and talked charmingly to Margaret and then vanished
again； there was Wilkins the novelist and Toomer and Dr。 Tumpany。
Chris Robinson stood about for a time in a new comforter； and
Magdeberg and Will Pipes and five or six Labour members。 And on our
side we had our particular little group； Bunting Harblow； Crampton；
Lewis； all looking as broad…minded and open to conviction as they
possibly could； and even occasionally talking out from their bushes
almost boldly。 But the gathering as a whole refused either to
mingle or dispute； and as an experiment in intercourse the evening
was a failure。 Unexpected dissociations appeared between Socialists
one had supposed friendly。 I could not have imagined it was
possible for half so many people to turn their backs on everybody
else in such small rooms as ours。 But the unsaid things those backs
expressed broke out； I remarked； with refreshed virulence in the
various organs of the various sections of the party next week。
I talked； I rememher； with Dr。 Tumpany； a large young man in a still
larger professional frock…coat； and with a great shock of very fair
hair； who was candidate for some North Country constituency。 We
discussed the political outlook； and； like so many Socialists at
that time； he was full of vague threatenings against the Liberal
party。 I was struck by a thing in him that I had already observed
less vividly in many others of these Socialist leaders； and which
gave me at last a clue to the whole business。 He behaved exactly
like a man in possession of valuable patent rights； who wants to be
dealt with。 He had an air of having a corner in ideas。 Then it
flashed into my head that the whole Socialist movement was an
attempted corner in ideas。 。 。 。
8
Late that night I found myself alone with Margaret amid the debris
of the gathering。
I sat before the fire； hands in pockets； and Margaret； looking white
and weary； came and leant upon the mantel。
〃Oh； Lord！〃 said Margaret。
I agreed。 Then I resumed my meditation。
〃Ideas；〃 I said； 〃count for more than I thought in the world。〃
Margaret regarded me with that neutral expression behind which she
was accustomed to wait for clues。
〃When you think of the height and depth and importance and wisdom of
the Socialist ideas； and see the men who are running them；〃 I
explained。 。 。 。 〃A big system of ideas like Socialism grows up out
of the obvious common sense of our present conditions。 It's as
impersonal as science。 All these menThey've given nothing to it。
They're just people who have pegged out claims upon a big
intellectual No…Man's…Landand don't feel quite sure of the law。
There's a sort of quarrelsome uneasiness。 。 。 。 If we professed
Socialism do you think they'd welcome us？ Not a man of them！
They'd feel it was burglary。 。 。 。〃
〃Yes；〃 said Margaret； looking into the fire。 〃That is just what I
felt about them all the evening。 。 。 。 Particularly Dr。 Tumpany。〃
〃We mustn't confuse Socialism with the Socialists； I said； 〃that's
the moral of it。 I suppose if God were to find He had made a
mistake in dates or something； and went back and annihilated
everybody from Owen onwards who was in any way known as a Socialist
leader or teacher； Socialism would be exactly where it is and what
it is to…daya growing realisation of constructive needs in every
man's mind； and a little corner in party politics。 So； I suppose；
it will always be。 。 。 。 But they WERE a damned lot； Margaret！〃
I looked up at the little noise she made。 〃TWICE！〃 she said；
smiling indulgently； 〃to…day！〃 （Even the smile was Altiora's。）
I returned to my thoughts。 They WERE a damned human lot。 It was an
excellent word in that connection。 。 。 。
But the ideas marched on； the ideas marched on； just as though men's
brains were no more than stepping…stones； just as though some great
brain in which we are all little cells and corpuscles was thinking
them！ 。 。 。
〃I don't think there is a man among them who makes me feel he is
trustworthy；〃 said Margaret； 〃unless it is Featherstonehaugh。〃
I sat taking in this proposition。
〃They'll never help us； I feel；〃 said Margaret。
〃Us？〃
〃The Liberals。〃
〃Oh； damn the Liberals！〃 I said。 〃They'll never even help
themselves。〃
〃I don't think I could possibly get on with any of those people；〃
said Margaret； after a pause。
She remained for a time looking down at me and； I could feel；
perplexed by me； but I wanted to go on with my thinking； and so I
did not look up； and presently she stooped to my forehead and kissed
me and went rustling softly to her room。
I remained in my study for a long time with my thoughts
crystallising out。 。 。 。
It was then； I think； that I first apprehended clearly how that
opposition to which I have already alluded of the immediate life and
the mental hinterland of a man； can be applied to public and social
affairs。 The ideas go onand no person or party succeeds in
embodying them。 The reality of human progress never comes to the
surface； it is a power in the deeps； an undertow。 It goes on in
silence while men think； in studies where they write self…
forgetfully； in laboratories under the urgency of an impersonal
curiosity； in the rare illumination of honest talk； in moments of
emotional insight； in thoughtful reading； but not in everyday
affairs。 Everyday affairs and whatever is made an everyday affair；
are transactions of the ostensible self； the being of habits；
interests； usage。 Temper； vanity； hasty reaction to imitation；
personal feeling； are their substance。 No man can abolish his
immediate self and specialise in the depths； if he attempt that； he
simply turns himself into something a little less than the common
man。 He may have an immense hinterland； but that does not absolve
him from a frontage。 That is the essential error of the specialist
philosopher； the specialist teacher； the specialist publicist。 They
repudiate frontage； claim to be pure hinterland。