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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:20:50 -0700 |
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diff --git a/3261-h/3261-h.htm b/3261-h/3261-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cf1fb9a --- /dev/null +++ b/3261-h/3261-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8267 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>News from Nowhere</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + TD { vertical-align: top; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: gray;} + + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">News from Nowhere, by William Morris</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, News from Nowhere, by William Morris + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: News from Nowhere + or An Epoch of Rest, being some chapters from A Utopian Romance + + +Author: William Morris + + + +Release Date: May 8, 2007 [eBook #3261] +Last Updated: November 21, 2015 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEWS FROM NOWHERE*** +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1908 Longmans, Green, and Co. edition by +David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1>NEWS FROM NOWHERE<br /> +<span class="smcap">or</span><br /> +AN EPOCH OF REST<br /> +<span class="smcap">being some chapters from</span><br /> +A UTOPIAN ROMANCE</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap"><b>by</b></span><br /> +WILLIAM MORRIS,<br /> +<span class="smcap">author of</span> ‘<span +class="smcap">the earthly paradise</span>.’</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>TENTH IMPRESSION</i></p> +<p style="text-align: center">LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.<br /> +39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON<br /> +NEW YORK, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA<br /> +1908</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> +<p><i>First printed serially in the</i> Commonweal, 1890.</p> +<p><i>Thence reprinted at Boston</i>, <i>Mass.</i>, 1890.</p> +<p><i>First English Edition</i>, <i>revised</i>, <i>Reeves & +Turner</i>, 1891.</p> +<p><i>Reprinted April</i>, <i>June</i> 1891; <i>March</i> +1892.</p> +<p><i>Kelmscott Press Edition</i>, 1892.</p> +<p><i>Since reprinted March</i> 1895; <i>January</i> 1897; +<i>November</i> 1899; <i>August</i> 1902; <i>July</i> 1905; +<i>January</i> 1907; <i>and January</i> 1908.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER I: DISCUSSION AND BED</h2> +<p>Up at the League, says a friend, there had been one night a +brisk conversational discussion, as to what would happen on the +Morrow of the Revolution, finally shading off into a vigorous +statement by various friends of their views on the future of the +fully-developed new society.</p> +<p>Says our friend: Considering the subject, the discussion was +good-tempered; for those present being used to public meetings +and after-lecture debates, if they did not listen to each +others’ opinions (which could scarcely be expected of +them), at all events did not always attempt to speak all +together, as is the custom of people in ordinary polite society +when conversing on a subject which interests them. For the +rest, there were six persons present, and consequently six +sections of the party were represented, four of which had strong +but divergent Anarchist opinions. One of the sections, says +our friend, a man whom he knows very well indeed, sat almost +silent at the beginning of the discussion, but at last got drawn +into it, and finished by roaring out very loud, and damning all +the rest for fools; after which befel a period of noise, and then +a lull, during which the aforesaid section, having said +good-night very amicably, took his way home by himself to a +western suburb, using the means of travelling which civilisation +has forced upon us like a habit. As he sat in that +vapour-bath of hurried and discontented humanity, a carriage of +the underground railway, he, like others, stewed discontentedly, +while in self-reproachful mood he turned over the many excellent +and conclusive arguments which, though they lay at his +fingers’ ends, he had forgotten in the just past +discussion. But this frame of mind he was so used to, that +it didn’t last him long, and after a brief discomfort, +caused by disgust with himself for having lost his temper (which +he was also well used to), he found himself musing on the +subject-matter of discussion, but still discontentedly and +unhappily. “If I could but see a day of it,” he +said to himself; “if I could but see it!”</p> +<p>As he formed the words, the train stopped at his station, five +minutes’ walk from his own house, which stood on the banks +of the Thames, a little way above an ugly suspension +bridge. He went out of the station, still discontented and +unhappy, muttering “If I could but see it! if I could but +see it!” but had not gone many steps towards the river +before (says our friend who tells the story) all that discontent +and trouble seemed to slip off him.</p> +<p>It was a beautiful night of early winter, the air just sharp +enough to be refreshing after the hot room and the stinking +railway carriage. The wind, which had lately turned a point +or two north of west, had blown the sky clear of all cloud save a +light fleck or two which went swiftly down the heavens. +There was a young moon halfway up the sky, and as the home-farer +caught sight of it, tangled in the branches of a tall old elm, he +could scarce bring to his mind the shabby London suburb where he +was, and he felt as if he were in a pleasant country +place—pleasanter, indeed, than the deep country was as he +had known it.</p> +<p>He came right down to the river-side, and lingered a little, +looking over the low wall to note the moonlit river, near upon +high water, go swirling and glittering up to Chiswick Eyot: as +for the ugly bridge below, he did not notice it or think of it, +except when for a moment (says our friend) it struck him that he +missed the row of lights down stream. Then he turned to his +house door and let himself in; and even as he shut the door to, +disappeared all remembrance of that brilliant logic and foresight +which had so illuminated the recent discussion; and of the +discussion itself there remained no trace, save a vague hope, +that was now become a pleasure, for days of peace and rest, and +cleanness and smiling goodwill.</p> +<p>In this mood he tumbled into bed, and fell asleep after his +wont, in two minutes’ time; but (contrary to his wont) woke +up again not long after in that curiously wide-awake condition +which sometimes surprises even good sleepers; a condition under +which we feel all our wits preternaturally sharpened, while all +the miserable muddles we have ever got into, all the disgraces +and losses of our lives, will insist on thrusting themselves +forward for the consideration of those sharpened wits.</p> +<p>In this state he lay (says our friend) till he had almost +begun to enjoy it: till the tale of his stupidities amused him, +and the entanglements before him, which he saw so clearly, began +to shape themselves into an amusing story for him.</p> +<p>He heard one o’clock strike, then two and then three; +after which he fell asleep again. Our friend says that from +that sleep he awoke once more, and afterwards went through such +surprising adventures that he thinks that they should be told to +our comrades, and indeed the public in general, and therefore +proposes to tell them now. But, says he, I think it would +be better if I told them in the first person, as if it were +myself who had gone through them; which, indeed, will be the +easier and more natural to me, since I understand the feelings +and desires of the comrade of whom I am telling better than any +one else in the world does.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER II: A MORNING BATH</h2> +<p>Well, I awoke, and found that I had kicked my bedclothes off; +and no wonder, for it was hot and the sun shining brightly. +I jumped up and washed and hurried on my clothes, but in a hazy +and half-awake condition, as if I had slept for a long, long +while, and could not shake off the weight of slumber. In +fact, I rather took it for granted that I was at home in my own +room than saw that it was so.</p> +<p>When I was dressed, I felt the place so hot that I made haste +to get out of the room and out of the house; and my first feeling +was a delicious relief caused by the fresh air and pleasant +breeze; my second, as I began to gather my wits together, mere +measureless wonder: for it was winter when I went to bed the last +night, and now, by witness of the river-side trees, it was +summer, a beautiful bright morning seemingly of early June. +However, there was still the Thames sparkling under the sun, and +near high water, as last night I had seen it gleaming under the +moon.</p> +<p>I had by no means shaken off the feeling of oppression, and +wherever I might have been should scarce have been quite +conscious of the place; so it was no wonder that I felt rather +puzzled in despite of the familiar face of the Thames. +Withal I felt dizzy and queer; and remembering that people often +got a boat and had a swim in mid-stream, I thought I would do no +less. It seems very early, quoth I to myself, but I daresay +I shall find someone at Biffin’s to take me. However, +I didn’t get as far as Biffin’s, or even turn to my +left thitherward, because just then I began to see that there was +a landing-stage right before me in front of my house: in fact, on +the place where my next-door neighbour had rigged one up, though +somehow it didn’t look like that either. Down I went +on to it, and sure enough among the empty boats moored to it lay +a man on his sculls in a solid-looking tub of a boat clearly +meant for bathers. He nodded to me, and bade me +good-morning as if he expected me, so I jumped in without any +words, and he paddled away quietly as I peeled for my swim. +As we went, I looked down on the water, and couldn’t help +saying—</p> +<p>“How clear the water is this morning!”</p> +<p>“Is it?” said he; “I didn’t notice +it. You know the flood-tide always thickens it a +bit.”</p> +<p>“H’m,” said I, “I have seen it pretty +muddy even at half-ebb.”</p> +<p>He said nothing in answer, but seemed rather astonished; and +as he now lay just stemming the tide, and I had my clothes off, I +jumped in without more ado. Of course when I had my head +above water again I turned towards the tide, and my eyes +naturally sought for the bridge, and so utterly astonished was I +by what I saw, that I forgot to strike out, and went spluttering +under water again, and when I came up made straight for the boat; +for I felt that I must ask some questions of my waterman, so +bewildering had been the half-sight I had seen from the face of +the river with the water hardly out of my eyes; though by this +time I was quit of the slumbrous and dizzy feeling, and was +wide-awake and clear-headed.</p> +<p>As I got in up the steps which he had lowered, and he held out +his hand to help me, we went drifting speedily up towards +Chiswick; but now he caught up the sculls and brought her head +round again, and said—“A short swim, neighbour; but +perhaps you find the water cold this morning, after your +journey. Shall I put you ashore at once, or would you like +to go down to Putney before breakfast?”</p> +<p>He spoke in a way so unlike what I should have expected from a +Hammersmith waterman, that I stared at him, as I answered, +“Please to hold her a little; I want to look about me a +bit.”</p> +<p>“All right,” he said; “it’s no less +pretty in its way here than it is off Barn Elms; it’s jolly +everywhere this time in the morning. I’m glad you got +up early; it’s barely five o’clock yet.”</p> +<p>If I was astonished with my sight of the river banks, I was no +less astonished at my waterman, now that I had time to look at +him and see him with my head and eyes clear.</p> +<p>He was a handsome young fellow, with a peculiarly pleasant and +friendly look about his eyes,—an expression which was quite +new to me then, though I soon became familiar with it. For +the rest, he was dark-haired and berry-brown of skin, well-knit +and strong, and obviously used to exercising his muscles, but +with nothing rough or coarse about him, and clean as might +be. His dress was not like any modern work-a-day clothes I +had seen, but would have served very well as a costume for a +picture of fourteenth century life: it was of dark blue cloth, +simple enough, but of fine web, and without a stain on it. +He had a brown leather belt round his waist, and I noticed that +its clasp was of damascened steel beautifully wrought. In +short, he seemed to be like some specially manly and refined +young gentleman, playing waterman for a spree, and I concluded +that this was the case.</p> +<p>I felt that I must make some conversation; so I pointed to the +Surrey bank, where I noticed some light plank stages running down +the foreshore, with windlasses at the landward end of them, and +said, “What are they doing with those things here? If +we were on the Tay, I should have said that they were for drawing +the salmon nets; but here—”</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, smiling, “of course that is +what they <i>are</i> for. Where there are salmon, there are +likely to be salmon-nets, Tay or Thames; but of course they are +not always in use; we don’t want salmon <i>every</i> day of +the season.”</p> +<p>I was going to say, “But is this the Thames?” but +held my peace in my wonder, and turned my bewildered eyes +eastward to look at the bridge again, and thence to the shores of +the London river; and surely there was enough to astonish +me. For though there was a bridge across the stream and +houses on its banks, how all was changed from last night! +The soap-works with their smoke-vomiting chimneys were gone; the +engineer’s works gone; the lead-works gone; and no sound of +rivetting and hammering came down the west wind from +Thorneycroft’s. Then the bridge! I had perhaps +dreamed of such a bridge, but never seen such an one out of an +illuminated manuscript; for not even the Ponte Vecchio at +Florence came anywhere near it. It was of stone arches, +splendidly solid, and as graceful as they were strong; high +enough also to let ordinary river traffic through easily. +Over the parapet showed quaint and fanciful little buildings, +which I supposed to be booths or shops, beset with painted and +gilded vanes and spirelets. The stone was a little +weathered, but showed no marks of the grimy sootiness which I was +used to on every London building more than a year old. In +short, to me a wonder of a bridge.</p> +<p>The sculler noted my eager astonished look, and said, as if in +answer to my thoughts—</p> +<p>“Yes, it <i>is</i> a pretty bridge, isn’t +it? Even the up-stream bridges, which are so much smaller, +are scarcely daintier, and the down-stream ones are scarcely more +dignified and stately.”</p> +<p>I found myself saying, almost against my will, “How old +is it?”</p> +<p>“Oh, not very old,” he said; “it was built +or at least opened, in 2003. There used to be a rather +plain timber bridge before then.”</p> +<p>The date shut my mouth as if a key had been turned in a +padlock fixed to my lips; for I saw that something inexplicable +had happened, and that if I said much, I should be mixed up in a +game of cross questions and crooked answers. So I tried to +look unconcerned, and to glance in a matter-of-course way at the +banks of the river, though this is what I saw up to the bridge +and a little beyond; say as far as the site of the +soap-works. Both shores had a line of very pretty houses, +low and not large, standing back a little way from the river; +they were mostly built of red brick and roofed with tiles, and +looked, above all, comfortable, and as if they were, so to say, +alive, and sympathetic with the life of the dwellers in +them. There was a continuous garden in front of them, going +down to the water’s edge, in which the flowers were now +blooming luxuriantly, and sending delicious waves of summer scent +over the eddying stream. Behind the houses, I could see +great trees rising, mostly planes, and looking down the water +there were the reaches towards Putney almost as if they were a +lake with a forest shore, so thick were the big trees; and I said +aloud, but as if to myself—</p> +<p>“Well, I’m glad that they have not built over Barn +Elms.”</p> +<p>I blushed for my fatuity as the words slipped out of my mouth, +and my companion looked at me with a half smile which I thought I +understood; so to hide my confusion I said, “Please take me +ashore now: I want to get my breakfast.”</p> +<p>He nodded, and brought her head round with a sharp stroke, and +in a trice we were at the landing-stage again. He jumped +out and I followed him; and of course I was not surprised to see +him wait, as if for the inevitable after-piece that follows the +doing of a service to a fellow-citizen. So I put my hand +into my waistcoat-pocket, and said, “How much?” +though still with the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps I was +offering money to a gentleman.</p> +<p>He looked puzzled, and said, “How much? I +don’t quite understand what you are asking about. Do +you mean the tide? If so, it is close on the turn +now.”</p> +<p>I blushed, and said, stammering, “Please don’t +take it amiss if I ask you; I mean no offence: but what ought I +to pay you? You see I am a stranger, and don’t know +your customs—or your coins.”</p> +<p>And therewith I took a handful of money out of my pocket, as +one does in a foreign country. And by the way, I saw that +the silver had oxydised, and was like a blackleaded stove in +colour.</p> +<p>He still seemed puzzled, but not at all offended; and he +looked at the coins with some curiosity. I thought, Well +after all, he <i>is</i> a waterman, and is considering what he +may venture to take. He seems such a nice fellow that +I’m sure I don’t grudge him a little +over-payment. I wonder, by the way, whether I +couldn’t hire him as a guide for a day or two, since he is +so intelligent.</p> +<p>Therewith my new friend said thoughtfully:</p> +<p>“I think I know what you mean. You think that I +have done you a service; so you feel yourself bound to give me +something which I am not to give to a neighbour, unless he has +done something special for me. I have heard of this kind of +thing; but pardon me for saying, that it seems to us a +troublesome and roundabout custom; and we don’t know how to +manage it. And you see this ferrying and giving people +casts about the water is my <i>business</i>, which I would do for +anybody; so to take gifts in connection with it would look very +queer. Besides, if one person gave me something, then +another might, and another, and so on; and I hope you won’t +think me rude if I say that I shouldn’t know where to stow +away so many mementos of friendship.”</p> +<p>And he laughed loud and merrily, as if the idea of being paid +for his work was a very funny joke. I confess I began to be +afraid that the man was mad, though he looked sane enough; and I +was rather glad to think that I was a good swimmer, since we were +so close to a deep swift stream. However, he went on by no +means like a madman:</p> +<p>“As to your coins, they are curious, but not very old; +they seem to be all of the reign of Victoria; you might give them +to some scantily-furnished museum. Ours has enough of such +coins, besides a fair number of earlier ones, many of which are +beautiful, whereas these nineteenth century ones are so beastly +ugly, ain’t they? We have a piece of Edward III., +with the king in a ship, and little leopards and fleurs-de-lys +all along the gunwale, so delicately worked. You +see,” he said, with something of a smirk, “I am fond +of working in gold and fine metals; this buckle here is an early +piece of mine.”</p> +<p>No doubt I looked a little shy of him under the influence of +that doubt as to his sanity. So he broke off short, and +said in a kind voice:</p> +<p>“But I see that I am boring you, and I ask your +pardon. For, not to mince matters, I can tell that you +<i>are</i> a stranger, and must come from a place very unlike +England. But also it is clear that it won’t do to +overdose you with information about this place, and that you had +best suck it in little by little. Further, I should take it +as very kind in you if you would allow me to be the showman of +our new world to you, since you have stumbled on me first. +Though indeed it will be a mere kindness on your part, for almost +anybody would make as good a guide, and many much +better.”</p> +<p>There certainly seemed no flavour in him of Colney Hatch; and +besides I thought I could easily shake him off if it turned out +that he really was mad; so I said:</p> +<p>“It is a very kind offer, but it is difficult for me to +accept it, unless—” I was going to say, Unless +you will let me pay you properly; but fearing to stir up Colney +Hatch again, I changed the sentence into, “I fear I shall +be taking you away from your work—or your +amusement.”</p> +<p>“O,” he said, “don’t trouble about +that, because it will give me an opportunity of doing a good turn +to a friend of mine, who wants to take my work here. He is +a weaver from Yorkshire, who has rather overdone himself between +his weaving and his mathematics, both indoor work, you see; and +being a great friend of mine, he naturally came to me to get him +some outdoor work. If you think you can put up with me, +pray take me as your guide.”</p> +<p>He added presently: “It is true that I have promised to +go up-stream to some special friends of mine, for the +hay-harvest; but they won’t be ready for us for more than a +week: and besides, you might go with me, you know, and see some +very nice people, besides making notes of our ways in +Oxfordshire. You could hardly do better if you want to see +the country.”</p> +<p>I felt myself obliged to thank him, whatever might come of it; +and he added eagerly:</p> +<p>“Well, then, that’s settled. I will give my +friend a call; he is living in the Guest House like you, and if he +isn’t up yet, he ought to be this fine summer +morning.”</p> +<p>Therewith he took a little silver bugle-horn from his girdle +and blew two or three sharp but agreeable notes on it; and +presently from the house which stood on the site of my old +dwelling (of which more hereafter) another young man came +sauntering towards us. He was not so well-looking or so +strongly made as my sculler friend, being sandy-haired, rather +pale, and not stout-built; but his face was not wanting in that +happy and friendly expression which I had noticed in his +friend. As he came up smiling towards us, I saw with +pleasure that I must give up the Colney Hatch theory as to the +waterman, for no two madmen ever behaved as they did before a +sane man. His dress also was of the same cut as the first +man’s, though somewhat gayer, the surcoat being light green +with a golden spray embroidered on the breast, and his belt being +of filagree silver-work.</p> +<p>He gave me good-day very civilly, and greeting his friend +joyously, said:</p> +<p>“Well, Dick, what is it this morning? Am I to have +my work, or rather your work? I dreamed last night that we +were off up the river fishing.”</p> +<p>“All right, Bob,” said my sculler; “you will +drop into my place, and if you find it too much, there is George +Brightling on the look out for a stroke of work, and he lives +close handy to you. But see, here is a stranger who is +willing to amuse me to-day by taking me as his guide about our +country-side, and you may imagine I don’t want to lose the +opportunity; so you had better take to the boat at once. +But in any case I shouldn’t have kept you out of it for +long, since I am due in the hay-fields in a few days.”</p> +<p>The newcomer rubbed his hands with glee, but turning to me, +said in a friendly voice:</p> +<p>“Neighbour, both you and friend Dick are lucky, and will +have a good time to-day, as indeed I shall too. But you had +better both come in with me at once and get something to eat, +lest you should forget your dinner in your amusement. I +suppose you came into the Guest House after I had gone to bed +last night?”</p> +<p>I nodded, not caring to enter into a long explanation which +would have led to nothing, and which in truth by this time I +should have begun to doubt myself. And we all three turned +toward the door of the Guest House.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER III: THE GUEST HOUSE AND BREAKFAST THEREIN</h2> +<p>I lingered a little behind the others to have a stare at this +house, which, as I have told you, stood on the site of my old +dwelling.</p> +<p>It was a longish building with its gable ends turned away from +the road, and long traceried windows coming rather low down set +in the wall that faced us. It was very handsomely built of +red brick with a lead roof; and high up above the windows there +ran a frieze of figure subjects in baked clay, very well +executed, and designed with a force and directness which I had +never noticed in modern work before. The subjects I +recognised at once, and indeed was very particularly familiar +with them.</p> +<p>However, all this I took in in a minute; for we were presently +within doors, and standing in a hall with a floor of marble +mosaic and an open timber roof. There were no windows on +the side opposite to the river, but arches below leading into +chambers, one of which showed a glimpse of a garden beyond, and +above them a long space of wall gaily painted (in fresco, I +thought) with similar subjects to those of the frieze outside; +everything about the place was handsome and generously solid as +to material; and though it was not very large (somewhat smaller +than Crosby Hall perhaps), one felt in it that exhilarating sense +of space and freedom which satisfactory architecture always gives +to an unanxious man who is in the habit of using his eyes.</p> +<p>In this pleasant place, which of course I knew to be the hall +of the Guest House, three young women were flitting to and +fro. As they were the first of the sex I had seen on this +eventful morning, I naturally looked at them very attentively, +and found them at least as good as the gardens, the architecture, +and the male men. As to their dress, which of course I took +note of, I should say that they were decently veiled with +drapery, and not bundled up with millinery; that they were +clothed like women, not upholstered like armchairs, as most women +of our time are. In short, their dress was somewhat between +that of the ancient classical costume and the simpler forms of +the fourteenth century garments, though it was clearly not an +imitation of either: the materials were light and gay to suit the +season. As to the women themselves, it was pleasant indeed +to see them, they were so kind and happy-looking in expression of +face, so shapely and well-knit of body, and thoroughly +healthy-looking and strong. All were at least comely, and +one of them very handsome and regular of feature. They came +up to us at once merrily and without the least affectation of +shyness, and all three shook hands with me as if I were a friend +newly come back from a long journey: though I could not help +noticing that they looked askance at my garments; for I had on my +clothes of last night, and at the best was never a dressy +person.</p> +<p>A word or two from Robert the weaver, and they bustled about +on our behoof, and presently came and took us by the hands and +led us to a table in the pleasantest corner of the hall, where +our breakfast was spread for us; and, as we sat down, one of them +hurried out by the chambers aforesaid, and came back again in a +little while with a great bunch of roses, very different in size +and quality to what Hammersmith had been wont to grow, but very +like the produce of an old country garden. She hurried back +thence into the buttery, and came back once more with a +delicately made glass, into which she put the flowers and set +them down in the midst of our table. One of the others, who +had run off also, then came back with a big cabbage-leaf filled +with strawberries, some of them barely ripe, and said as she set +them on the table, “There, now; I thought of that before I +got up this morning; but looking at the stranger here getting +into your boat, Dick, put it out of my head; so that I was not +before <i>all</i> the blackbirds: however, there are a few about +as good as you will get them anywhere in Hammersmith this +morning.”</p> +<p>Robert patted her on the head in a friendly manner; and we +fell to on our breakfast, which was simple enough, but most +delicately cooked, and set on the table with much +daintiness. The bread was particularly good, and was of +several different kinds, from the big, rather close, +dark-coloured, sweet-tasting farmhouse loaf, which was most to my +liking, to the thin pipe-stems of wheaten crust, such as I have +eaten in Turin.</p> +<p>As I was putting the first mouthfuls into my mouth my eye +caught a carved and gilded inscription on the panelling, behind +what we should have called the High Table in an Oxford college +hall, and a familiar name in it forced me to read it +through. Thus it ran:</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Guests and neighbours</i>, <i>on the +site of this Guest-hall once stood the lecture-room of the +Hammersmith Socialists</i>. <i>Drink a glass to the +memory</i>! <i>May 1962</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It is difficult to tell you how I felt as I read these words, +and I suppose my face showed how much I was moved, for both my +friends looked curiously at me, and there was silence between us +for a little while.</p> +<p>Presently the weaver, who was scarcely so well mannered a man +as the ferryman, said to me rather awkwardly:</p> +<p>“Guest, we don’t know what to call you: is there +any indiscretion in asking you your name?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “I have some doubts about it +myself; so suppose you call me Guest, which is a family name, you +know, and add William to it if you please.”</p> +<p>Dick nodded kindly to me; but a shade of anxiousness passed +over the weaver’s face, and he said—“I hope you +don’t mind my asking, but would you tell me where you come +from? I am curious about such things for good reasons, +literary reasons.”</p> +<p>Dick was clearly kicking him underneath the table; but he was +not much abashed, and awaited my answer somewhat eagerly. +As for me, I was just going to blurt out +“Hammersmith,” when I bethought me what an +entanglement of cross purposes that would lead us into; so I took +time to invent a lie with circumstance, guarded by a little +truth, and said:</p> +<p>“You see, I have been such a long time away from Europe +that things seem strange to me now; but I was born and bred on +the edge of Epping Forest; Walthamstow and Woodford, to +wit.”</p> +<p>“A pretty place, too,” broke in Dick; “a +very jolly place, now that the trees have had time to grow again +since the great clearing of houses in 1955.”</p> +<p>Quoth the irrepressible weaver: “Dear neighbour, since +you knew the Forest some time ago, could you tell me what truth +there is in the rumour that in the nineteenth century the trees +were all pollards?”</p> +<p>This was catching me on my archæological natural-history +side, and I fell into the trap without any thought of where and +when I was; so I began on it, while one of the girls, the +handsome one, who had been scattering little twigs of lavender +and other sweet-smelling herbs about the floor, came near to +listen, and stood behind me with her hand on my shoulder, in +which she held some of the plant that I used to call balm: its +strong sweet smell brought back to my mind my very early days in +the kitchen-garden at Woodford, and the large blue plums which +grew on the wall beyond the sweet-herb patch,—a connection +of memories which all boys will see at once.</p> +<p>I started off: “When I was a boy, and for long after, +except for a piece about Queen Elizabeth’s Lodge, and for +the part about High Beech, the Forest was almost wholly made up +of pollard hornbeams mixed with holly thickets. But when +the Corporation of London took it over about twenty-five years +ago, the topping and lopping, which was a part of the old +commoners’ rights, came to an end, and the trees were let +to grow. But I have not seen the place now for many years, +except once, when we Leaguers went a pleasuring to High +Beech. I was very much shocked then to see how it was +built-over and altered; and the other day we heard that the +philistines were going to landscape-garden it. But what you +were saying about the building being stopped and the trees +growing is only too good news;—only you +know—”</p> +<p>At that point I suddenly remembered Dick’s date, and +stopped short rather confused. The eager weaver +didn’t notice my confusion, but said hastily, as if he were +almost aware of his breach of good manners, “But, I say, +how old are you?”</p> +<p>Dick and the pretty girl both burst out laughing, as if +Robert’s conduct were excusable on the grounds of +eccentricity; and Dick said amidst his laughter:</p> +<p>“Hold hard, Bob; this questioning of guests won’t +do. Why, much learning is spoiling you. You remind me +of the radical cobblers in the silly old novels, who, according +to the authors, were prepared to trample down all good manners in +the pursuit of utilitarian knowledge. The fact is, I begin +to think that you have so muddled your head with mathematics, and +with grubbing into those idiotic old books about political +economy (he he!), that you scarcely know how to behave. +Really, it is about time for you to take to some open-air work, +so that you may clear away the cobwebs from your +brain.”</p> +<p>The weaver only laughed good-humouredly; and the girl went up +to him and patted his cheek and said laughingly, “Poor +fellow! he was born so.”</p> +<p>As for me, I was a little puzzled, but I laughed also, partly +for company’s sake, and partly with pleasure at their +unanxious happiness and good temper; and before Robert could make +the excuse to me which he was getting ready, I said:</p> +<p>“But neighbours” (I had caught up that word), +“I don’t in the least mind answering questions, when +I can do so: ask me as many as you please; it’s fun for +me. I will tell you all about Epping Forest when I was a +boy, if you please; and as to my age, I’m not a fine lady, +you know, so why shouldn’t I tell you? I’m hard +on fifty-six.”</p> +<p>In spite of the recent lecture on good manners, the weaver +could not help giving a long “whew” of astonishment, +and the others were so amused by his <i>naïveté</i> +that the merriment flitted all over their faces, though for +courtesy’s sake they forbore actual laughter; while I +looked from one to the other in a puzzled manner, and at last +said:</p> +<p>“Tell me, please, what is amiss: you know I want to +learn from you. And please laugh; only tell me.”</p> +<p>Well, they <i>did</i> laugh, and I joined them again, for the +above-stated reasons. But at last the pretty woman said +coaxingly—</p> +<p>“Well, well, he <i>is</i> rude, poor fellow! but you see +I may as well tell you what he is thinking about: he means that +you look rather old for your age. But surely there need be +no wonder in that, since you have been travelling; and clearly +from all you have been saying, in unsocial countries. It +has often been said, and no doubt truly, that one ages very +quickly if one lives amongst unhappy people. Also they say +that southern England is a good place for keeping good +looks.” She blushed and said: “How old am I, do +you think?”</p> +<p>“Well,” quoth I, “I have always been told +that a woman is as old as she looks, so without offence or +flattery, I should say that you were twenty.”</p> +<p>She laughed merrily, and said, “I am well served out for +fishing for compliments, since I have to tell you the truth, to +wit, that I am forty-two.”</p> +<p>I stared at her, and drew musical laughter from her again; but +I might well stare, for there was not a careful line on her face; +her skin was as smooth as ivory, her cheeks full and round, her +lips as red as the roses she had brought in; her beautiful arms, +which she had bared for her work, firm and well-knit from +shoulder to wrist. She blushed a little under my gaze, +though it was clear that she had taken me for a man of eighty; so +to pass it off I said—</p> +<p>“Well, you see, the old saw is proved right again, and I +ought not to have let you tempt me into asking you a rude +question.”</p> +<p>She laughed again, and said: “Well, lads, old and young, +I must get to my work now. We shall be rather busy here +presently; and I want to clear it off soon, for I began to read a +pretty old book yesterday, and I want to get on with it this +morning: so good-bye for the present.”</p> +<p>She waved a hand to us, and stepped lightly down the hall, +taking (as Scott says) at least part of the sun from our table as +she went.</p> +<p>When she was gone, Dick said “Now guest, won’t you +ask a question or two of our friend here? It is only fair +that you should have your turn.”</p> +<p>“I shall be very glad to answer them,” said the +weaver.</p> +<p>“If I ask you any questions, sir,” said I, +“they will not be very severe; but since I hear that you +are a weaver, I should like to ask you something about that +craft, as I am—or was—interested in it.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” said he, “I shall not be of much use +to you there, I’m afraid. I only do the most +mechanical kind of weaving, and am in fact but a poor craftsman, +unlike Dick here. Then besides the weaving, I do a little +with machine printing and composing, though I am little use at +the finer kinds of printing; and moreover machine printing is +beginning to die out, along with the waning of the plague of +book-making, so I have had to turn to other things that I have a +taste for, and have taken to mathematics; and also I am writing a +sort of antiquarian book about the peaceable and private history, +so to say, of the end of the nineteenth century,—more for +the sake of giving a picture of the country before the fighting +began than for anything else. That was why I asked you +those questions about Epping Forest. You have rather +puzzled me, I confess, though your information was so +interesting. But later on, I hope, we may have some more +talk together, when our friend Dick isn’t here. I +know he thinks me rather a grinder, and despises me for not being +very deft with my hands: that’s the way nowadays. +From what I have read of the nineteenth century literature (and I +have read a good deal), it is clear to me that this is a kind of +revenge for the stupidity of that day, which despised everybody +who <i>could</i> use his hands. But Dick, old fellow, <i>Ne +quid nimis</i>! Don’t overdo it!”</p> +<p>“Come now,” said Dick, “am I likely +to? Am I not the most tolerant man in the world? Am I +not quite contented so long as you don’t make me learn +mathematics, or go into your new science of æsthetics, and +let me do a little practical æsthetics with my gold and +steel, and the blowpipe and the nice little hammer? But, +hillo! here comes another questioner for you, my poor +guest. I say, Bob, you must help me to defend him +now.”</p> +<p>“Here, Boffin,” he cried out, after a pause; +“here we are, if you must have it!”</p> +<p>I looked over my shoulder, and saw something flash and gleam +in the sunlight that lay across the hall; so I turned round, and +at my ease saw a splendid figure slowly sauntering over the +pavement; a man whose surcoat was embroidered most copiously as +well as elegantly, so that the sun flashed back from him as if he +had been clad in golden armour. The man himself was tall, +dark-haired, and exceedingly handsome, and though his face was no +less kindly in expression than that of the others, he moved with +that somewhat haughty mien which great beauty is apt to give to +both men and women. He came and sat down at our table with +a smiling face, stretching out his long legs and hanging his arm +over the chair in the slowly graceful way which tall and +well-built people may use without affectation. He was a man +in the prime of life, but looked as happy as a child who has just +got a new toy. He bowed gracefully to me and +said—</p> +<p>“I see clearly that you are the guest, of whom Annie has +just told me, who have come from some distant country that does +not know of us, or our ways of life. So I daresay you would +not mind answering me a few questions; for you +see—”</p> +<p>Here Dick broke in: “No, please, Boffin! let it alone +for the present. Of course you want the guest to be happy +and comfortable; and how can that be if he has to trouble himself +with answering all sorts of questions while he is still confused +with the new customs and people about him? No, no: I am +going to take him where he can ask questions himself, and have +them answered; that is, to my great-grandfather in Bloomsbury: +and I am sure you can’t have anything to say against +that. So instead of bothering, you had much better go out +to James Allen’s and get a carriage for me, as I shall +drive him up myself; and please tell Jim to let me have the old +grey, for I can drive a wherry much better than a carriage. +Jump up, old fellow, and don’t be disappointed; our guest +will keep himself for you and your stories.”</p> +<p>I stared at Dick; for I wondered at his speaking to such a +dignified-looking personage so familiarly, not to say curtly; for +I thought that this Mr. Boffin, in spite of his well-known name +out of Dickens, must be at the least a senator of these strange +people. However, he got up and said, “All right, old +oar-wearer, whatever you like; this is not one of my busy days; +and though” (with a condescending bow to me) “my +pleasure of a talk with this learned guest is put off, I admit +that he ought to see your worthy kinsman as soon as +possible. Besides, perhaps he will be the better able to +answer <i>my</i> questions after his own have been +answered.”</p> +<p>And therewith he turned and swung himself out of the hall.</p> +<p>When he was well gone, I said: “Is it wrong to ask what +Mr. Boffin is? whose name, by the way, reminds me of many +pleasant hours passed in reading Dickens.”</p> +<p>Dick laughed. “Yes, yes,” said he, “as +it does us. I see you take the allusion. Of course +his real name is not Boffin, but Henry Johnson; we only call him +Boffin as a joke, partly because he is a dustman, and partly +because he will dress so showily, and get as much gold on him as +a baron of the Middle Ages. As why should he not if he +likes? only we are his special friends, you know, so of course we +jest with him.”</p> +<p>I held my tongue for some time after that; but Dick went +on:</p> +<p>“He is a capital fellow, and you can’t help liking +him; but he has a weakness: he will spend his time in writing +reactionary novels, and is very proud of getting the local colour +right, as he calls it; and as he thinks you come from some +forgotten corner of the earth, where people are unhappy, and +consequently interesting to a story-teller, he thinks he might +get some information out of you. O, he will be quite +straightforward with you, for that matter. Only for your +own comfort beware of him!”</p> +<p>“Well, Dick,” said the weaver, doggedly, “I +think his novels are very good.”</p> +<p>“Of course you do,” said Dick; “birds of a +feather flock together; mathematics and antiquarian novels stand +on much the same footing. But here he comes +again.”</p> +<p>And in effect the Golden Dustman hailed us from the hall-door; +so we all got up and went into the porch, before which, with a +strong grey horse in the shafts, stood a carriage ready for us +which I could not help noticing. It was light and handy, +but had none of that sickening vulgarity which I had known as +inseparable from the carriages of our time, especially the +“elegant” ones, but was as graceful and pleasant in +line as a Wessex waggon. We got in, Dick and I. The +girls, who had come into the porch to see us off, waved their +hands to us; the weaver nodded kindly; the dustman bowed as +gracefully as a troubadour; Dick shook the reins, and we were +off.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV: A MARKET BY THE WAY</h2> +<p>We turned away from the river at once, and were soon in the +main road that runs through Hammersmith. But I should have +had no guess as to where I was, if I had not started from the +waterside; for King Street was gone, and the highway ran through +wide sunny meadows and garden-like tillage. The Creek, +which we crossed at once, had been rescued from its culvert, and +as we went over its pretty bridge we saw its waters, yet swollen +by the tide, covered with gay boats of different sizes. +There were houses about, some on the road, some amongst the +fields with pleasant lanes leading down to them, and each +surrounded by a teeming garden. They were all pretty in +design, and as solid as might be, but countryfied in appearance, +like yeomen’s dwellings; some of them of red brick like +those by the river, but more of timber and plaster, which were by +the necessity of their construction so like mediæval houses +of the same materials that I fairly felt as if I were alive in +the fourteenth century; a sensation helped out by the costume of +the people that we met or passed, in whose dress there was +nothing “modern.” Almost everybody was gaily +dressed, but especially the women, who were so well-looking, or +even so handsome, that I could scarcely refrain my tongue from +calling my companion’s attention to the fact. Some +faces I saw that were thoughtful, and in these I noticed great +nobility of expression, but none that had a glimmer of +unhappiness, and the greater part (we came upon a good many +people) were frankly and openly joyous.</p> +<p>I thought I knew the Broadway by the lie of the roads that +still met there. On the north side of the road was a range +of buildings and courts, low, but very handsomely built and +ornamented, and in that way forming a great contrast to the +unpretentiousness of the houses round about; while above this +lower building rose the steep lead-covered roof and the +buttresses and higher part of the wall of a great hall, of a +splendid and exuberant style of architecture, of which one can +say little more than that it seemed to me to embrace the best +qualities of the Gothic of northern Europe with those of the +Saracenic and Byzantine, though there was no copying of any one +of these styles. On the other, the south side, of the road +was an octagonal building with a high roof, not unlike the +Baptistry at Florence in outline, except that it was surrounded +by a lean-to that clearly made an arcade or cloisters to it: it +also was most delicately ornamented.</p> +<p>This whole mass of architecture which we had come upon so +suddenly from amidst the pleasant fields was not only exquisitely +beautiful in itself, but it bore upon it the expression of such +generosity and abundance of life that I was exhilarated to a +pitch that I had never yet reached. I fairly chuckled for +pleasure. My friend seemed to understand it, and sat +looking on me with a pleased and affectionate interest. We +had pulled up amongst a crowd of carts, wherein sat handsome +healthy-looking people, men, women, and children very gaily +dressed, and which were clearly market carts, as they were full +of very tempting-looking country produce.</p> +<p>I said, “I need not ask if this is a market, for I see +clearly that it is; but what market is it that it is so +splendid? And what is the glorious hall there, and what is +the building on the south side?”</p> +<p>“O,” said he, “it is just our Hammersmith +market; and I am glad you like it so much, for we are really +proud of it. Of course the hall inside is our winter +Mote-House; for in summer we mostly meet in the fields down by +the river opposite Barn Elms. The building on our right +hand is our theatre: I hope you like it.”</p> +<p>“I should be a fool if I didn’t,” said +I.</p> +<p>He blushed a little as he said: “I am glad of that, too, +because I had a hand in it; I made the great doors, which are of +damascened bronze. We will look at them later in the day, +perhaps: but we ought to be getting on now. As to the +market, this is not one of our busy days; so we shall do better +with it another time, because you will see more +people.”</p> +<p>I thanked him, and said: “Are these the regular country +people? What very pretty girls there are amongst +them.”</p> +<p>As I spoke, my eye caught the face of a beautiful woman, tall, +dark-haired, and white-skinned, dressed in a pretty light-green +dress in honour of the season and the hot day, who smiled kindly +on me, and more kindly still, I thought on Dick; so I stopped a +minute, but presently went on:</p> +<p>“I ask because I do not see any of the country-looking +people I should have expected to see at a market—I mean +selling things there.”</p> +<p>“I don’t understand,” said he, “what +kind of people you would expect to see; nor quite what you mean +by ‘country’ people. These are the neighbours, +and that like they run in the Thames valley. There are +parts of these islands which are rougher and rainier than we are +here, and there people are rougher in their dress; and they +themselves are tougher and more hard-bitten than we are to look +at. But some people like their looks better than ours; they +say they have more character in them—that’s the +word. Well, it’s a matter of taste.—Anyhow, the +cross between us and them generally turns out well,” added +he, thoughtfully.</p> +<p>I heard him, though my eyes were turned away from him, for +that pretty girl was just disappearing through the gate with her +big basket of early peas, and I felt that disappointed kind of +feeling which overtakes one when one has seen an interesting or +lovely face in the streets which one is never likely to see +again; and I was silent a little. At last I said: +“What I mean is, that I haven’t seen any poor people +about—not one.”</p> +<p>He knit his brows, looked puzzled, and said: “No, +naturally; if anybody is poorly, he is likely to be within doors, +or at best crawling about the garden: but I don’t know of +any one sick at present. Why should you expect to see +poorly people on the road?”</p> +<p>“No, no,” I said; “I don’t mean sick +people. I mean poor people, you know; rough +people.”</p> +<p>“No,” said he, smiling merrily, “I really do +not know. The fact is, you must come along quick to my +great-grandfather, who will understand you better than I +do. Come on, Greylocks!” Therewith he shook the +reins, and we jogged along merrily eastward.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER V: CHILDREN ON THE ROAD</h2> +<p>Past the Broadway there were fewer houses on either +side. We presently crossed a pretty little brook that ran +across a piece of land dotted over with trees, and awhile after +came to another market and town-hall, as we should call it. +Although there was nothing familiar to me in its surroundings, I +knew pretty well where we were, and was not surprised when my +guide said briefly, “Kensington Market.”</p> +<p>Just after this we came into a short street of houses: or +rather, one long house on either side of the way, built of timber +and plaster, and with a pretty arcade over the footway before +it.</p> +<p>Quoth Dick: “This is Kensington proper. People are +apt to gather here rather thick, for they like the romance of the +wood; and naturalists haunt it, too; for it is a wild spot even +here, what there is of it; for it does not go far to the south: +it goes from here northward and west right over Paddington and a +little way down Notting Hill: thence it runs north-east to +Primrose Hill, and so on; rather a narrow strip of it gets +through Kingsland to Stoke-Newington and Clapton, where it +spreads out along the heights above the Lea marshes; on the other +side of which, as you know, is Epping Forest holding out a hand +to it. This part we are just coming to is called Kensington +Gardens; though why ‘gardens’ I don’t +know.”</p> +<p>I rather longed to say, “Well, <i>I</i> know”; but +there were so many things about me which I did <i>not</i> know, +in spite of his assumptions, that I thought it better to hold my +tongue.</p> +<p>The road plunged at once into a beautiful wood spreading out +on either side, but obviously much further on the north side, +where even the oaks and sweet chestnuts were of a good growth; +while the quicker-growing trees (amongst which I thought the +planes and sycamores too numerous) were very big and +fine-grown.</p> +<p>It was exceedingly pleasant in the dappled shadow, for the day +was growing as hot as need be, and the coolness and shade soothed +my excited mind into a condition of dreamy pleasure, so that I +felt as if I should like to go on for ever through that balmy +freshness. My companion seemed to share in my feelings, and +let the horse go slower and slower as he sat inhaling the green +forest scents, chief amongst which was the smell of the trodden +bracken near the wayside.</p> +<p>Romantic as this Kensington wood was, however, it was not +lonely. We came on many groups both coming and going, or +wandering in the edges of the wood. Amongst these were many +children from six or eight years old up to sixteen or +seventeen. They seemed to me to be especially fine +specimens of their race, and enjoying themselves to the utmost; +some of them were hanging about little tents pitched on the +greensward, and by some of these fires were burning, with pots +hanging over them gipsy fashion. Dick explained to me that +there were scattered houses in the forest, and indeed we caught a +glimpse of one or two. He said they were mostly quite +small, such as used to be called cottages when there were slaves +in the land, but they were pleasant enough and fitting for the +wood.</p> +<p>“They must be pretty well stocked with children,” +said I, pointing to the many youngsters about the way.</p> +<p>“O,” said he, “these children do not all +come from the near houses, the woodland houses, but from the +country-side generally. They often make up parties, and +come to play in the woods for weeks together in summer-time, +living in tents, as you see. We rather encourage them to +it; they learn to do things for themselves, and get to notice the +wild creatures; and, you see, the less they stew inside houses +the better for them. Indeed, I must tell you that many +grown people will go to live in the forests through the summer; +though they for the most part go to the bigger ones, like +Windsor, or the Forest of Dean, or the northern wastes. +Apart from the other pleasures of it, it gives them a little +rough work, which I am sorry to say is getting somewhat scarce +for these last fifty years.”</p> +<p>He broke off, and then said, “I tell you all this, +because I see that if I talk I must be answering questions, which +you are thinking, even if you are not speaking them out; but my +kinsman will tell you more about it.”</p> +<p>I saw that I was likely to get out of my depth again, and so +merely for the sake of tiding over an awkwardness and to say +something, I said—</p> +<p>“Well, the youngsters here will be all the fresher for +school when the summer gets over and they have to go back +again.”</p> +<p>“School?” he said; “yes, what do you mean by +that word? I don’t see how it can have anything to do +with children. We talk, indeed, of a school of herring, and +a school of painting, and in the former sense we might talk of a +school of children—but otherwise,” said he, laughing, +“I must own myself beaten.”</p> +<p>Hang it! thought I, I can’t open my mouth without +digging up some new complexity. I wouldn’t try to set +my friend right in his etymology; and I thought I had best say +nothing about the boy-farms which I had been used to call +schools, as I saw pretty clearly that they had disappeared; so I +said after a little fumbling, “I was using the word in the +sense of a system of education.”</p> +<p>“Education?” said he, meditatively, “I know +enough Latin to know that the word must come from <i>educere</i>, +to lead out; and I have heard it used; but I have never met +anybody who could give me a clear explanation of what it +means.”</p> +<p>You may imagine how my new friends fell in my esteem when I +heard this frank avowal; and I said, rather contemptuously, +“Well, education means a system of teaching young +people.”</p> +<p>“Why not old people also?” said he with a twinkle +in his eye. “But,” he went on, “I can +assure you our children learn, whether they go through a +‘system of teaching’ or not. Why, you will not +find one of these children about here, boy or girl, who cannot +swim; and every one of them has been used to tumbling about the +little forest ponies—there’s one of them now! +They all of them know how to cook; the bigger lads can mow; many +can thatch and do odd jobs at carpentering; or they know how to +keep shop. I can tell you they know plenty of +things.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but their mental education, the teaching of their +minds,” said I, kindly translating my phrase.</p> +<p>“Guest,” said he, “perhaps you have not +learned to do these things I have been speaking about; and if +that’s the case, don’t you run away with the idea +that it doesn’t take some skill to do them, and +doesn’t give plenty of work for one’s mind: you would +change your opinion if you saw a Dorsetshire lad thatching, for +instance. But, however, I understand you to be speaking of +book-learning; and as to that, it is a simple affair. Most +children, seeing books lying about, manage to read by the time +they are four years old; though I am told it has not always been +so. As to writing, we do not encourage them to scrawl too +early (though scrawl a little they will), because it gets them +into a habit of ugly writing; and what’s the use of a lot +of ugly writing being done, when rough printing can be done so +easily. You understand that handsome writing we like, and +many people will write their books out when they make them, or +get them written; I mean books of which only a few copies are +needed—poems, and such like, you know. However, I am +wandering from my lambs; but you must excuse me, for I am +interested in this matter of writing, being myself a +fair-writer.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “about the children; when +they know how to read and write, don’t they learn something +else—languages, for instance?”</p> +<p>“Of course,” he said; “sometimes even before +they can read, they can talk French, which is the nearest +language talked on the other side of the water; and they soon get +to know German also, which is talked by a huge number of communes +and colleges on the mainland. These are the principal +languages we speak in these islands, along with English or Welsh, +or Irish, which is another form of Welsh; and children pick them +up very quickly, because their elders all know them; and besides +our guests from over sea often bring their children with them, +and the little ones get together, and rub their speech into one +another.”</p> +<p>“And the older languages?” said I.</p> +<p>“O, yes,” said he, “they mostly learn Latin +and Greek along with the modern ones, when they do anything more +than merely pick up the latter.”</p> +<p>“And history?” said I; “how do you teach +history?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “when a person can read, of +course he reads what he likes to; and he can easily get someone +to tell him what are the best books to read on such or such a +subject, or to explain what he doesn’t understand in the +books when he is reading them.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “what else do they +learn? I suppose they don’t all learn +history?”</p> +<p>“No, no,” said he; “some don’t care +about it; in fact, I don’t think many do. I have +heard my great-grandfather say that it is mostly in periods of +turmoil and strife and confusion that people care much about +history; and you know,” said my friend, with an amiable +smile, “we are not like that now. No; many people +study facts about the make of things and the matters of cause and +effect, so that knowledge increases on us, if that be good; and +some, as you heard about friend Bob yonder, will spend time over +mathematics. ’Tis no use forcing people’s +tastes.”</p> +<p>Said I: “But you don’t mean that children learn +all these things?”</p> +<p>Said he: “That depends on what you mean by children; and +also you must remember how much they differ. As a rule, +they don’t do much reading, except for a few story-books, +till they are about fifteen years old; we don’t encourage +early bookishness: though you will find some children who +<i>will</i> take to books very early; which perhaps is not good +for them; but it’s no use thwarting them; and very often it +doesn’t last long with them, and they find their level +before they are twenty years old. You see, children are +mostly given to imitating their elders, and when they see most +people about them engaged in genuinely amusing work, like +house-building and street-paving, and gardening, and the like, +that is what they want to be doing; so I don’t think we +need fear having too many book-learned men.”</p> +<p>What could I say? I sat and held my peace, for fear of +fresh entanglements. Besides, I was using my eyes with all +my might, wondering as the old horse jogged on, when I should +come into London proper, and what it would be like now.</p> +<p>But my companion couldn’t let his subject quite drop, +and went on meditatively:</p> +<p>“After all, I don’t know that it does them much +harm, even if they do grow up book-students. Such people as +that, ’tis a great pleasure seeing them so happy over work +which is not much sought for. And besides, these students +are generally such pleasant people; so kind and sweet tempered; +so humble, and at the same time so anxious to teach everybody all +that they know. Really, I like those that I have met +prodigiously.”</p> +<p>This seemed to me such very queer talk that I was on the point +of asking him another question; when just as we came to the top +of a rising ground, down a long glade of the wood on my right I +caught sight of a stately building whose outline was familiar to +me, and I cried out, “Westminster Abbey!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Dick, “Westminster +Abbey—what there is left of it.”</p> +<p>“Why, what have you done with it?” quoth I in +terror.</p> +<p>“What have <i>we</i> done with it?” said he; +“nothing much, save clean it. But you know the whole +outside was spoiled centuries ago: as to the inside, that remains +in its beauty after the great clearance, which took place over a +hundred years ago, of the beastly monuments to fools and knaves, +which once blocked it up, as great-grandfather says.”</p> +<p>We went on a little further, and I looked to the right again, +and said, in rather a doubtful tone of voice, “Why, there +are the Houses of Parliament! Do you still use +them?”</p> +<p>He burst out laughing, and was some time before he could +control himself; then he clapped me on the back and said:</p> +<p>“I take you, neighbour; you may well wonder at our +keeping them standing, and I know something about that, and my +old kinsman has given me books to read about the strange game +that they played there. Use them! Well, yes, they are +used for a sort of subsidiary market, and a storage place for +manure, and they are handy for that, being on the +waterside. I believe it was intended to pull them down +quite at the beginning of our days; but there was, I am told, a +queer antiquarian society, which had done some service in past +times, and which straightway set up its pipe against their +destruction, as it has done with many other buildings, which most +people looked upon as worthless, and public nuisances; and it was +so energetic, and had such good reasons to give, that it +generally gained its point; and I must say that when all is said +I am glad of it: because you know at the worst these silly old +buildings serve as a kind of foil to the beautiful ones which we +build now. You will see several others in these parts; the +place my great-grandfather lives in, for instance, and a big +building called St. Paul’s. And you see, in this +matter we need not grudge a few poorish buildings standing, +because we can always build elsewhere; nor need we be anxious as +to the breeding of pleasant work in such matters, for there is +always room for more and more work in a new building, even +without making it pretentious. For instance, elbow-room +<i>within</i> doors is to me so delightful that if I were driven +to it I would most sacrifice outdoor space to it. Then, of +course, there is the ornament, which, as we must all allow, may +easily be overdone in mere living houses, but can hardly be in +mote-halls and markets, and so forth. I must tell you, +though, that my great-grandfather sometimes tells me I am a +little cracked on this subject of fine building; and indeed I +<i>do</i> think that the energies of mankind are chiefly of use +to them for such work; for in that direction I can see no end to +the work, while in many others a limit does seem +possible.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI: A LITTLE SHOPPING</h2> +<p>As he spoke, we came suddenly out of the woodland into a short +street of handsomely built houses, which my companion named to me +at once as Piccadilly: the lower part of these I should have +called shops, if it had not been that, as far as I could see, the +people were ignorant of the arts of buying and selling. +Wares were displayed in their finely designed fronts, as if to +tempt people in, and people stood and looked at them, or went in +and came out with parcels under their arms, just like the real +thing. On each side of the street ran an elegant arcade to +protect foot-passengers, as in some of the old Italian +cities. About halfway down, a huge building of the kind I +was now prepared to expect told me that this also was a centre of +some kind, and had its special public buildings.</p> +<p>Said Dick: “Here, you see, is another market on a +different plan from most others: the upper stories of these +houses are used for guest-houses; for people from all about the +country are apt to drift up hither from time to time, as folk are +very thick upon the ground, which you will see evidence of +presently, and there are people who are fond of crowds, though I +can’t say that I am.”</p> +<p>I couldn’t help smiling to see how long a tradition +would last. Here was the ghost of London still asserting +itself as a centre,—an intellectual centre, for aught I +knew. However, I said nothing, except that I asked him to +drive very slowly, as the things in the booths looked exceedingly +pretty.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he, “this is a very good market +for pretty things, and is mostly kept for the handsomer goods, as +the Houses-of-Parliament market, where they set out cabbages and +turnips and such like things, along with beer and the rougher +kind of wine, is so near.”</p> +<p>Then he looked at me curiously, and said, “Perhaps you +would like to do a little shopping, as ’tis +called.”</p> +<p>I looked at what I could see of my rough blue duds, which I +had plenty of opportunity of contrasting with the gay attire of +the citizens we had come across; and I thought that if, as seemed +likely, I should presently be shown about as a curiosity for the +amusement of this most unbusinesslike people, I should like to +look a little less like a discharged ship’s purser. +But in spite of all that had happened, my hand went down into my +pocket again, where to my dismay it met nothing metallic except +two rusty old keys, and I remembered that amidst our talk in the +guest-hall at Hammersmith I had taken the cash out of my pocket +to show to the pretty Annie, and had left it lying there. +My face fell fifty per cent., and Dick, beholding me, said rather +sharply—</p> +<p>“Hilloa, Guest! what’s the matter now? Is it +a wasp?”</p> +<p>“No,” said I, “but I’ve left it +behind.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “whatever you have left +behind, you can get in this market again, so don’t trouble +yourself about it.”</p> +<p>I had come to my senses by this time, and remembering the +astounding customs of this country, had no mind for another +lecture on social economy and the Edwardian coinage; so I said +only—</p> +<p>“My clothes—Couldn’t I? You +see—What do think could be done about them?”</p> +<p>He didn’t seem in the least inclined to laugh, but said +quite gravely:</p> +<p>“O don’t get new clothes yet. You see, my +great-grandfather is an antiquarian, and he will want to see you +just as you are. And, you know, I mustn’t preach to +you, but surely it wouldn’t be right for you to take away +people’s pleasure of studying your attire, by just going +and making yourself like everybody else. You feel that, +don’t you?” said he, earnestly.</p> +<p>I did <i>not</i> feel it my duty to set myself up for a +scarecrow amidst this beauty-loving people, but I saw I had got +across some ineradicable prejudice, and that it wouldn’t do +to quarrel with my new friend. So I merely said, “O +certainly, certainly.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, pleasantly, “you may as +well see what the inside of these booths is like: think of +something you want.”</p> +<p>Said I: “Could I get some tobacco and a pipe?”</p> +<p>“Of course,” said he; “what was I thinking +of, not asking you before? Well, Bob is always telling me +that we non-smokers are a selfish lot, and I’m afraid he is +right. But come along; here is a place just +handy.”</p> +<p>Therewith he drew rein and jumped down, and I followed. +A very handsome woman, splendidly clad in figured silk, was +slowly passing by, looking into the windows as she went. To +her quoth Dick: “Maiden, would you kindly hold our horse +while we go in for a little?” She nodded to us with a +kind smile, and fell to patting the horse with her pretty +hand.</p> +<p>“What a beautiful creature!” said I to Dick as we +entered.</p> +<p>“What, old Greylocks?” said he, with a sly +grin.</p> +<p>“No, no,” said I; “Goldylocks,—the +lady.”</p> +<p>“Well, so she is,” said he. +“’Tis a good job there are so many of them that every +Jack may have his Jill: else I fear that we should get fighting +for them. Indeed,” said he, becoming very grave, +“I don’t say that it does not happen even now, +sometimes. For you know love is not a very reasonable +thing, and perversity and self-will are commoner than some of our +moralists think.” He added, in a still more +sombre tone: “Yes, only a month ago there was a mishap down +by us, that in the end cost the lives of two men and a woman, +and, as it were, put out the sunlight for us for a while. +Don’t ask me about it just now; I may tell you about it +later on.”</p> +<p>By this time we were within the shop or booth, which had a +counter, and shelves on the walls, all very neat, though without +any pretence of showiness, but otherwise not very different to +what I had been used to. Within were a couple of +children—a brown-skinned boy of about twelve, who sat +reading a book, and a pretty little girl of about a year older, +who was sitting also reading behind the counter; they were +obviously brother and sister.</p> +<p>“Good morning, little neighbours,” said +Dick. “My friend here wants tobacco and a pipe; can +you help him?”</p> +<p>“O yes, certainly,” said the girl with a sort of +demure alertness which was somewhat amusing. The boy looked +up, and fell to staring at my outlandish attire, but presently +reddened and turned his head, as if he knew that he was not +behaving prettily.</p> +<p>“Dear neighbour,” said the girl, with the most +solemn countenance of a child playing at keeping shop, +“what tobacco is it you would like?”</p> +<p>“Latakia,” quoth I, feeling as if I were assisting +at a child’s game, and wondering whether I should get +anything but make-believe.</p> +<p>But the girl took a dainty little basket from a shelf beside +her, went to a jar, and took out a lot of tobacco and put the +filled basket down on the counter before me, where I could both +smell and see that it was excellent Latakia.</p> +<p>“But you haven’t weighed it,” said I, +“and—and how much am I to take?”</p> +<p>“Why,” she said, “I advise you to cram your +bag, because you may be going where you can’t get +Latakia. Where is your bag?”</p> +<p>I fumbled about, and at last pulled out my piece of cotton +print which does duty with me for a tobacco pouch. But the +girl looked at it with some disdain, and said—</p> +<p>“Dear neighbour, I can give you something much better +than that cotton rag.” And she tripped up the shop +and came back presently, and as she passed the boy whispered +something in his ear, and he nodded and got up and went +out. The girl held up in her finger and thumb a red morocco +bag, gaily embroidered, and said, “There, I have chosen one +for you, and you are to have it: it is pretty, and will hold a +lot.”</p> +<p>Therewith she fell to cramming it with the tobacco, and laid +it down by me and said, “Now for the pipe: that also you +must let me choose for you; there are three pretty ones just come +in.”</p> +<p>She disappeared again, and came back with a big-bowled pipe in +her hand, carved out of some hard wood very elaborately, and +mounted in gold sprinkled with little gems. It was, in +short, as pretty and gay a toy as I had ever seen; something like +the best kind of Japanese work, but better.</p> +<p>“Dear me!” said I, when I set eyes on it, +“this is altogether too grand for me, or for anybody but +the Emperor of the World. Besides, I shall lose it: I +always lose my pipes.”</p> +<p>The child seemed rather dashed, and said, “Don’t +you like it, neighbour?”</p> +<p>“O yes,” I said, “of course I like +it.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, take it,” said she, “and +don’t trouble about losing it. What will it matter if +you do? Somebody is sure to find it, and he will use it, +and you can get another.”</p> +<p>I took it out of her hand to look at it, and while I did so, +forgot my caution, and said, “But however am I to pay for +such a thing as this?”</p> +<p>Dick laid his hand on my shoulder as I spoke, and turning I +met his eyes with a comical expression in them, which warned me +against another exhibition of extinct commercial morality; so I +reddened and held my tongue, while the girl simply looked at me +with the deepest gravity, as if I were a foreigner blundering in +my speech, for she clearly didn’t understand me a bit.</p> +<p>“Thank you so very much,” I said at last, +effusively, as I put the pipe in my pocket, not without a qualm +of doubt as to whether I shouldn’t find myself before a +magistrate presently.</p> +<p>“O, you are so very welcome,” said the little +lass, with an affectation of grown-up manners at their best which +was very quaint. “It is such a pleasure to serve dear +old gentlemen like you; especially when one can see at once that +you have come from far over sea.”</p> +<p>“Yes, my dear,” quoth I, “I have been a +great traveller.”</p> +<p>As I told this lie from pure politeness, in came the lad +again, with a tray in his hands, on which I saw a long flask and +two beautiful glasses. “Neighbours,” said the +girl (who did all the talking, her brother being very shy, +clearly) “please to drink a glass to us before you go, +since we do not have guests like this every day.”</p> +<p>Therewith the boy put the tray on the counter and solemnly +poured out a straw-coloured wine into the long bowls. +Nothing loth, I drank, for I was thirsty with the hot day; and +thinks I, I am yet in the world, and the grapes of the Rhine have +not yet lost their flavour; for if ever I drank good Steinberg, I +drank it that morning; and I made a mental note to ask Dick how +they managed to make fine wine when there were no longer +labourers compelled to drink rot-gut instead of the fine wine +which they themselves made.</p> +<p>“Don’t you drink a glass to us, dear little +neighbours?” said I.</p> +<p>“I don’t drink wine,” said the lass; +“I like lemonade better: but I wish your health!”</p> +<p>“And I like ginger-beer better,” said the little +lad.</p> +<p>Well, well, thought I, neither have children’s tastes +changed much. And therewith we gave them good day and went +out of the booth.</p> +<p>To my disappointment, like a change in a dream, a tall old man +was holding our horse instead of the beautiful woman. He +explained to us that the maiden could not wait, and that he had +taken her place; and he winked at us and laughed when he saw how +our faces fell, so that we had nothing for it but to laugh +also—</p> +<p>“Where are you going?” said he to Dick.</p> +<p>“To Bloomsbury,” said Dick.</p> +<p>“If you two don’t want to be alone, I’ll +come with you,” said the old man.</p> +<p>“All right,” said Dick, “tell me when you +want to get down and I’ll stop for you. Let’s +get on.”</p> +<p>So we got under way again; and I asked if children generally +waited on people in the markets. “Often +enough,” said he, “when it isn’t a matter of +dealing with heavy weights, but by no means always. The +children like to amuse themselves with it, and it is good for +them, because they handle a lot of diverse wares and get to learn +about them, how they are made, and where they come from, and so +on. Besides, it is such very easy work that anybody can do +it. It is said that in the early days of our epoch there +were a good many people who were hereditarily afflicted with a +disease called Idleness, because they were the direct descendants +of those who in the bad times used to force other people to work +for them—the people, you know, who are called slave-holders +or employers of labour in the history books. Well, these +Idleness-stricken people used to serve booths <i>all</i> their +time, because they were fit for so little. Indeed, I +believe that at one time they were actually <i>compelled</i> to +do some such work, because they, especially the women, got so +ugly and produced such ugly children if their disease was not +treated sharply, that the neighbours couldn’t stand +it. However, I’m happy to say that all that is gone +by now; the disease is either extinct, or exists in such a mild +form that a short course of aperient medicine carries it +off. It is sometimes called the Blue-devils now, or the +Mulleygrubs. Queer names, ain’t they?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, pondering much. But the old +man broke in:</p> +<p>“Yes, all that is true, neighbour; and I have seen some +of those poor women grown old. But my father used to know +some of them when they were young; and he said that they were as +little like young women as might be: they had hands like bunches +of skewers, and wretched little arms like sticks; and waists like +hour-glasses, and thin lips and peaked noses and pale cheeks; and +they were always pretending to be offended at anything you said +or did to them. No wonder they bore ugly children, for no +one except men like them could be in love with them—poor +things!”</p> +<p>He stopped, and seemed to be musing on his past life, and then +said:</p> +<p>“And do you know, neighbours, that once on a time people +were still anxious about that disease of Idleness: at one time we +gave ourselves a great deal of trouble in trying to cure people +of it. Have you not read any of the medical books on the +subject?”</p> +<p>“No,” said I; for the old man was speaking to +me.</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “it was thought at the time +that it was the survival of the old mediæval disease of +leprosy: it seems it was very catching, for many of the people +afflicted by it were much secluded, and were waited upon by a +special class of diseased persons queerly dressed up, so that +they might be known. They wore amongst other garments, +breeches made of worsted velvet, that stuff which used to be +called plush some years ago.”</p> +<p>All this seemed very interesting to me, and I should like to +have made the old man talk more. But Dick got rather +restive under so much ancient history: besides, I suspect he +wanted to keep me as fresh as he could for his +great-grandfather. So he burst out laughing at last, and +said: “Excuse me, neighbours, but I can’t help +it. Fancy people not liking to work!—it’s too +ridiculous. Why, even you like to work, old +fellow—sometimes,” said he, affectionately patting +the old horse with the whip. “What a queer disease! +it may well be called Mulleygrubs!”</p> +<p>And he laughed out again most boisterously; rather too much +so, I thought, for his usual good manners; and I laughed with him +for company’s sake, but from the teeth outward only; for +<i>I</i> saw nothing funny in people not liking to work, as you +may well imagine.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII: TRAFALGAR SQUARE</h2> +<p>And now again I was busy looking about me, for we were quite +clear of Piccadilly Market, and were in a region of +elegantly-built much ornamented houses, which I should have +called villas if they had been ugly and pretentious, which was +very far from being the case. Each house stood in a garden +carefully cultivated, and running over with flowers. The +blackbirds were singing their best amidst the garden-trees, +which, except for a bay here and there, and occasional groups of +limes, seemed to be all fruit-trees: there were a great many +cherry-trees, now all laden with fruit; and several times as we +passed by a garden we were offered baskets of fine fruit by +children and young girls. Amidst all these gardens and +houses it was of course impossible to trace the sites of the old +streets: but it seemed to me that the main roadways were the same +as of old.</p> +<p>We came presently into a large open space, sloping somewhat +toward the south, the sunny site of which had been taken +advantage of for planting an orchard, mainly, as I could see, of +apricot-trees, in the midst of which was a pretty gay little +structure of wood, painted and gilded, that looked like a +refreshment-stall. From the southern side of the said +orchard ran a long road, chequered over with the shadow of tall +old pear trees, at the end of which showed the high tower of the +Parliament House, or Dung Market.</p> +<p>A strange sensation came over me; I shut my eyes to keep out +the sight of the sun glittering on this fair abode of gardens, +and for a moment there passed before them a phantasmagoria of +another day. A great space surrounded by tall ugly houses, +with an ugly church at the corner and a nondescript ugly cupolaed +building at my back; the roadway thronged with a sweltering and +excited crowd, dominated by omnibuses crowded with +spectators. In the midst a paved be-fountained square, +populated only by a few men dressed in blue, and a good many +singularly ugly bronze images (one on the top of a tall +column). The said square guarded up to the edge of the +roadway by a four-fold line of big men clad in blue, and across +the southern roadway the helmets of a band of horse-soldiers, +dead white in the greyness of the chilly November +afternoon—I opened my eyes to the sunlight again and looked +round me, and cried out among the whispering trees and odorous +blossoms, “Trafalgar Square!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Dick, who had drawn rein again, +“so it is. I don’t wonder at your finding the +name ridiculous: but after all, it was nobody’s business to +alter it, since the name of a dead folly doesn’t +bite. Yet sometimes I think we might have given it a name +which would have commemorated the great battle which was fought +on the spot itself in 1952,—that was important enough, if +the historians don’t lie.”</p> +<p>“Which they generally do, or at least did,” said +the old man. “For instance, what can you make of +this, neighbours? I have read a muddled account in a +book—O a stupid book—called James’ Social +Democratic History, of a fight which took place here in or about +the year 1887 (I am bad at dates). Some people, says this +story, were going to hold a ward-mote here, or some such thing, +and the Government of London, or the Council, or the Commission, +or what not other barbarous half-hatched body of fools, fell upon +these citizens (as they were then called) with the armed +hand. That seems too ridiculous to be true; but according +to this version of the story, nothing much came of it, which +certainly <i>is</i> too ridiculous to be true.”</p> +<p>“Well,” quoth I, “but after all your Mr. +James is right so far, and it <i>is</i> true; except that there +was no fighting, merely unarmed and peaceable people attacked by +ruffians armed with bludgeons.”</p> +<p>“And they put up with that?” said Dick, with the +first unpleasant expression I had seen on his good-tempered +face.</p> +<p>Said I, reddening: “We <i>had</i> to put up with it; we +couldn’t help it.”</p> +<p>The old man looked at me keenly, and said: “You seem to +know a great deal about it, neighbour! And is it really +true that nothing came of it?”</p> +<p>“This came of it,” said I, “that a good many +people were sent to prison because of it.”</p> +<p>“What, of the bludgeoners?” said the old +man. “Poor devils!”</p> +<p>“No, no,” said I, “of the +bludgeoned.”</p> +<p>Said the old man rather severely: “Friend, I expect that +you have been reading some rotten collection of lies, and have +been taken in by it too easily.”</p> +<p>“I assure you,” said I, “what I have been +saying is true.”</p> +<p>“Well, well, I am sure you think so, neighbour,” +said the old man, “but I don’t see why you should be +so cocksure.”</p> +<p>As I couldn’t explain why, I held my tongue. +Meanwhile Dick, who had been sitting with knit brows, cogitating, +spoke at last, and said gently and rather sadly:</p> +<p>“How strange to think that there have been men like +ourselves, and living in this beautiful and happy country, who I +suppose had feelings and affections like ourselves, who could yet +do such dreadful things.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, in a didactic tone; “yet +after all, even those days were a great improvement on the days +that had gone before them. Have you not read of the +Mediæval period, and the ferocity of its criminal laws; and +how in those days men fairly seemed to have enjoyed tormenting +their fellow men?—nay, for the matter of that, they made +their God a tormentor and a jailer rather than anything +else.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Dick, “there are good books on +that period also, some of which I have read. But as to the +great improvement of the nineteenth century, I don’t see +it. After all, the Mediæval folk acted after their +conscience, as your remark about their God (which is true) shows, +and they were ready to bear what they inflicted on others; +whereas the nineteenth century ones were hypocrites, and +pretended to be humane, and yet went on tormenting those whom +they dared to treat so by shutting them up in prison, for no +reason at all, except that they were what they themselves, the +prison-masters, had forced them to be. O, it’s +horrible to think of!”</p> +<p>“But perhaps,” said I, “they did not know +what the prisons were like.”</p> +<p>Dick seemed roused, and even angry. “More shame +for them,” said he, “when you and I know it all these +years afterwards. Look you, neighbour, they couldn’t +fail to know what a disgrace a prison is to the Commonwealth at +the best, and that their prisons were a good step on towards +being at the worst.”</p> +<p>Quoth I: “But have you no prisons at all now?”</p> +<p>As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt that I had +made a mistake, for Dick flushed red and frowned, and the old man +looked surprised and pained; and presently Dick said angrily, yet +as if restraining himself somewhat—</p> +<p>“Man alive! how can you ask such a question? Have +I not told you that we know what a prison means by the undoubted +evidence of really trustworthy books, helped out by our own +imaginations? And haven’t you specially called me to +notice that the people about the roads and streets look happy? +and how could they look happy if they knew that their neighbours +were shut up in prison, while they bore such things +quietly? And if there were people in prison, you +couldn’t hide it from folk, like you may an occasional +man-slaying; because that isn’t done of set purpose, with a +lot of people backing up the slayer in cold blood, as this prison +business is. Prisons, indeed! O no, no, +no!”</p> +<p>He stopped, and began to cool down, and said in a kind voice: +“But forgive me! I needn’t be so hot about it, +since there are <i>not</i> any prisons: I’m afraid you will +think the worse of me for losing my temper. Of course, you, +coming from the outlands, cannot be expected to know about these +things. And now I’m afraid I have made you feel +uncomfortable.”</p> +<p>In a way he had; but he was so generous in his heat, that I +liked him the better for it, and I said:</p> +<p>“No, really ’tis all my fault for being so +stupid. Let me change the subject, and ask you what the +stately building is on our left just showing at the end of that +grove of plane-trees?”</p> +<p>“Ah,” he said, “that is an old building +built before the middle of the twentieth century, and as you see, +in a queer fantastic style not over beautiful; but there are some +fine things inside it, too, mostly pictures, some very old. +It is called the National Gallery; I have sometimes puzzled as to +what the name means: anyhow, nowadays wherever there is a place +where pictures are kept as curiosities permanently it is called a +National Gallery, perhaps after this one. Of course there +are a good many of them up and down the country.”</p> +<p>I didn’t try to enlighten him, feeling the task too +heavy; but I pulled out my magnificent pipe and fell a-smoking, +and the old horse jogged on again. As we went, I said:</p> +<p>“This pipe is a very elaborate toy, and you seem so +reasonable in this country, and your architecture is so good, +that I rather wonder at your turning out such +trivialities.”</p> +<p>It struck me as I spoke that this was rather ungrateful of me, +after having received such a fine present; but Dick didn’t +seem to notice my bad manners, but said:</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t know; it is a pretty thing, and +since nobody need make such things unless they like, I +don’t see why they shouldn’t make them, if they +like. Of course, if carvers were scarce they would all be +busy on the architecture, as you call it, and then these +‘toys’ (a good word) would not be made; but since +there are plenty of people who can carve—in fact, almost +everybody, and as work is somewhat scarce, or we are afraid it +may be, folk do not discourage this kind of petty +work.”</p> +<p>He mused a little, and seemed somewhat perturbed; but +presently his face cleared, and he said: “After all, you +must admit that the pipe is a very pretty thing, with the little +people under the trees all cut so clean and sweet;—too +elaborate for a pipe, perhaps, but—well, it is very +pretty.”</p> +<p>“Too valuable for its use, perhaps,” said I.</p> +<p>“What’s that?” said he; “I don’t +understand.”</p> +<p>I was just going in a helpless way to try to make him +understand, when we came by the gates of a big rambling building, +in which work of some sort seemed going on. “What +building is that?” said I, eagerly; for it was a pleasure +amidst all these strange things to see something a little like +what I was used to: “it seems to be a factory.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said, “I think I know what you +mean, and that’s what it is; but we don’t call them +factories now, but Banded-workshops: that is, places where people +collect who want to work together.”</p> +<p>“I suppose,” said I, “power of some sort is +used there?”</p> +<p>“No, no,” said he. “Why should people +collect together to use power, when they can have it at the +places where they live, or hard by, any two or three of them; or +any one, for the matter of that? No; folk collect in these +Banded-workshops to do hand-work in which working together is +necessary or convenient; such work is often very pleasant. +In there, for instance, they make pottery and glass,—there, +you can see the tops of the furnaces. Well, of course +it’s handy to have fair-sized ovens and kilns and +glass-pots, and a good lot of things to use them for: though of +course there are a good many such places, as it would be +ridiculous if a man had a liking for pot-making or glass-blowing +that he should have to live in one place or be obliged to forego +the work he liked.”</p> +<p>“I see no smoke coming from the furnaces,” said +I.</p> +<p>“Smoke?” said Dick; “why should you see +smoke?”</p> +<p>I held my tongue, and he went on: “It’s a nice +place inside, though as plain as you see outside. As to the +crafts, throwing the clay must be jolly work: the glass-blowing +is rather a sweltering job; but some folk like it very much +indeed; and I don’t much wonder: there is such a sense of +power, when you have got deft in it, in dealing with the hot +metal. It makes a lot of pleasant work,” said he, +smiling, “for however much care you take of such goods, +break they will, one day or another, so there is always plenty to +do.”</p> +<p>I held my tongue and pondered.</p> +<p>We came just here on a gang of men road-mending which delayed +us a little; but I was not sorry for it; for all I had seen +hitherto seemed a mere part of a summer holiday; and I wanted to +see how this folk would set to on a piece of real necessary +work. They had been resting, and had only just begun work +again as we came up; so that the rattle of the picks was what +woke me from my musing. There were about a dozen of them, +strong young men, looking much like a boating party at Oxford +would have looked in the days I remembered, and not more troubled +with their work: their outer raiment lay on the road-side in an +orderly pile under the guardianship of a six-year-old boy, who +had his arm thrown over the neck of a big mastiff, who was as +happily lazy as if the summer-day had been made for him +alone. As I eyed the pile of clothes, I could see the gleam +of gold and silk embroidery on it, and judged that some of these +workmen had tastes akin to those of the Golden Dustman of +Hammersmith. Beside them lay a good big basket that had +hints about it of cold pie and wine: a half dozen of young women +stood by watching the work or the workers, both of which were +worth watching, for the latter smote great strokes and were very +deft in their labour, and as handsome clean-built fellows as you +might find a dozen of in a summer day. They were laughing +and talking merrily with each other and the women, but presently +their foreman looked up and saw our way stopped. So he +stayed his pick and sang out, “Spell ho, mates! here are +neighbours want to get past.” Whereon the others +stopped also, and, drawing around us, helped the old horse by +easing our wheels over the half undone road, and then, like men +with a pleasant task on hand, hurried back to their work, only +stopping to give us a smiling good-day; so that the sound of the +picks broke out again before Greylocks had taken to his +jog-trot. Dick looked back over his shoulder at them and +said:</p> +<p>“They are in luck to-day: it’s right down good +sport trying how much pick-work one can get into an hour; and I +can see those neighbours know their business well. It is +not a mere matter of strength getting on quickly with such work; +is it, guest?”</p> +<p>“I should think not,” said I, “but to tell +you the truth, I have never tried my hand at it.”</p> +<p>“Really?” said he gravely, “that seems a +pity; it is good work for hardening the muscles, and I like it; +though I admit it is pleasanter the second week than the +first. Not that I am a good hand at it: the fellows used to +chaff me at one job where I was working, I remember, and sing out +to me, ‘Well rowed, stroke!’ ‘Put your +back into it, bow!’”</p> +<p>“Not much of a joke,” quoth I.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Dick, “everything seems like a +joke when we have a pleasant spell of work on, and good fellows +merry about us; we feels so happy, you know.” Again I +pondered silently.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII: AN OLD FRIEND</h2> +<p>We now turned into a pleasant lane where the branches of great +plane-trees nearly met overhead, but behind them lay low houses +standing rather close together.</p> +<p>“This is Long Acre,” quoth Dick; “so there +must once have been a cornfield here. How curious it is +that places change so, and yet keep their old names! Just +look how thick the houses stand! and they are still going on +building, look you!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the old man, “but I think the +cornfields must have been built over before the middle of the +nineteenth century. I have heard that about here was one of +the thickest parts of the town. But I must get down here, +neighbours; I have got to call on a friend who lives in the +gardens behind this Long Acre. Good-bye and good luck, +Guest!”</p> +<p>And he jumped down and strode away vigorously, like a young +man.</p> +<p>“How old should you say that neighbour will be?” +said I to Dick as we lost sight of him; for I saw that he was +old, and yet he looked dry and sturdy like a piece of old oak; a +type of old man I was not used to seeing.</p> +<p>“O, about ninety, I should say,” said Dick.</p> +<p>“How long-lived your people must be!” said I.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Dick, “certainly we have beaten +the threescore-and-ten of the old Jewish proverb-book. But +then you see that was written of Syria, a hot dry country, where +people live faster than in our temperate climate. However, +I don’t think it matters much, so long as a man is healthy +and happy while he <i>is</i> alive. But now, Guest, we are +so near to my old kinsman’s dwelling-place that I think you +had better keep all future questions for him.”</p> +<p>I nodded a yes; and therewith we turned to the left, and went +down a gentle slope through some beautiful rose-gardens, laid out +on what I took to be the site of Endell Street. We passed +on, and Dick drew rein an instant as we came across a long +straightish road with houses scantily scattered up and down +it. He waved his hand right and left, and said, +“Holborn that side, Oxford Road that. This was once a +very important part of the crowded city outside the ancient walls +of the Roman and Mediæval burg: many of the feudal nobles +of the Middle Ages, we are told, had big houses on either side of +Holborn. I daresay you remember that the Bishop of +Ely’s house is mentioned in Shakespeare’s play of +King Richard III.; and there are some remains of that still +left. However, this road is not of the same importance, now +that the ancient city is gone, walls and all.”</p> +<p>He drove on again, while I smiled faintly to think how the +nineteenth century, of which such big words have been said, +counted for nothing in the memory of this man, who read +Shakespeare and had not forgotten the Middle Ages.</p> +<p>We crossed the road into a short narrow lane between the +gardens, and came out again into a wide road, on one side of +which was a great and long building, turning its gables away from +the highway, which I saw at once was another public group. +Opposite to it was a wide space of greenery, without any wall or +fence of any kind. I looked through the trees and saw +beyond them a pillared portico quite familiar to me—no less +old a friend, in fact, than the British Museum. It rather +took my breath away, amidst all the strange things I had seen; +but I held my tongue and let Dick speak. Said he:</p> +<p>“Yonder is the British Museum, where my +great-grandfather mostly lives; so I won’t say much about +it. The building on the left is the Museum Market, and I +think we had better turn in there for a minute or two; for +Greylocks will be wanting his rest and his oats; and I suppose +you will stay with my kinsman the greater part of the day; and to +say the truth, there may be some one there whom I particularly +want to see, and perhaps have a long talk with.”</p> +<p>He blushed and sighed, not altogether with pleasure, I +thought; so of course I said nothing, and he turned the horse +under an archway which brought us into a very large paved +quadrangle, with a big sycamore tree in each corner and a +plashing fountain in the midst. Near the fountain were a +few market stalls, with awnings over them of gay striped linen +cloth, about which some people, mostly women and children, were +moving quietly, looking at the goods exposed there. The +ground floor of the building round the quadrangle was occupied by +a wide arcade or cloister, whose fanciful but strong architecture +I could not enough admire. Here also a few people were +sauntering or sitting reading on the benches.</p> +<p>Dick said to me apologetically: “Here as elsewhere there +is little doing to-day; on a Friday you would see it thronged, +and gay with people, and in the afternoon there is generally +music about the fountain. However, I daresay we shall have +a pretty good gathering at our mid-day meal.”</p> +<p>We drove through the quadrangle and by an archway, into a +large handsome stable on the other side, where we speedily +stalled the old nag and made him happy with horse-meat, and then +turned and walked back again through the market, Dick looking +rather thoughtful, as it seemed to me.</p> +<p>I noticed that people couldn’t help looking at me rather +hard, and considering my clothes and theirs, I didn’t +wonder; but whenever they caught my eye they made me a very +friendly sign of greeting.</p> +<p>We walked straight into the forecourt of the Museum, where, +except that the railings were gone, and the whispering boughs of +the trees were all about, nothing seemed changed; the very +pigeons were wheeling about the building and clinging to the +ornaments of the pediment as I had seen them of old.</p> +<p>Dick seemed grown a little absent, but he could not forbear +giving me an architectural note, and said:</p> +<p>“It is rather an ugly old building, isn’t +it? Many people have wanted to pull it down and rebuild it: +and perhaps if work does really get scarce we may yet do +so. But, as my great grandfather will tell you, it would +not be quite a straightforward job; for there are wonderful +collections in there of all kinds of antiquities, besides an +enormous library with many exceedingly beautiful books in it, and +many most useful ones as genuine records, texts of ancient works +and the like; and the worry and anxiety, and even risk, there +would be in moving all this has saved the buildings +themselves. Besides, as we said before, it is not a bad +thing to have some record of what our forefathers thought a +handsome building. For there is plenty of labour and +material in it.”</p> +<p>“I see there is,” said I, “and I quite agree +with you. But now hadn’t we better make haste to see +your great-grandfather?”</p> +<p>In fact, I could not help seeing that he was rather dallying +with the time. He said, “Yes, we will go into the +house in a minute. My kinsman is too old to do much work in +the Museum, where he was a custodian of the books for many years; +but he still lives here a good deal; indeed I think,” said +he, smiling, “that he looks upon himself as a part of the +books, or the books a part of him, I don’t know +which.”</p> +<p>He hesitated a little longer, then flushing up, took my hand, +and saying, “Come along, then!” led me toward the +door of one of the old official dwellings.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX: CONCERNING LOVE</h2> +<p>“Your kinsman doesn’t much care for beautiful +building, then,” said I, as we entered the rather dreary +classical house; which indeed was as bare as need be, except for +some big pots of the June flowers which stood about here and +there; though it was very clean and nicely whitewashed.</p> +<p>“O I don’t know,” said Dick, rather +absently. “He is getting old, certainly, for he is +over a hundred and five, and no doubt he doesn’t care about +moving. But of course he could live in a prettier house if +he liked: he is not obliged to live in one place any more than +any one else. This way, Guest.”</p> +<p>And he led the way upstairs, and opening a door we went into a +fair-sized room of the old type, as plain as the rest of the +house, with a few necessary pieces of furniture, and those very +simple and even rude, but solid and with a good deal of carving +about them, well designed but rather crudely executed. At +the furthest corner of the room, at a desk near the window, sat a +little old man in a roomy oak chair, well becushioned. He +was dressed in a sort of Norfolk jacket of blue serge worn +threadbare, with breeches of the same, and grey worsted +stockings. He jumped up from his chair, and cried out in a +voice of considerable volume for such an old man, “Welcome, +Dick, my lad; Clara is here, and will be more than glad to see +you; so keep your heart up.”</p> +<p>“Clara here?” quoth Dick; “if I had known, I +would not have brought—At least, I mean I +would—”</p> +<p>He was stuttering and confused, clearly because he was anxious +to say nothing to make me feel one too many. But the old +man, who had not seen me at first, helped him out by coming +forward and saying to me in a kind tone:</p> +<p>“Pray pardon me, for I did not notice that Dick, who is +big enough to hide anybody, you know, had brought a friend with +him. A most hearty welcome to you! All the more, as I +almost hope that you are going to amuse an old man by giving him +news from over sea, for I can see that you are come from over the +water and far off countries.”</p> +<p>He looked at me thoughtfully, almost anxiously, as he said in +a changed voice, “Might I ask you where you come from, as +you are so clearly a stranger?”</p> +<p>I said in an absent way: “I used to live in England, and +now I am come back again; and I slept last night at the +Hammersmith Guest House.”</p> +<p>He bowed gravely, but seemed, I thought, a little disappointed +with my answer. As for me, I was now looking at him harder +than good manners allowed of; perhaps; for in truth his face, +dried-apple-like as it was, seemed strangely familiar to me; as +if I had seen it before—in a looking-glass it might be, +said I to myself.</p> +<p>“Well,” said the old man, “wherever you come +from, you are come among friends. And I see my kinsman +Richard Hammond has an air about him as if he had brought you +here for me to do something for you. Is that so, +Dick?”</p> +<p>Dick, who was getting still more absent-minded and kept +looking uneasily at the door, managed to say, “Well, yes, +kinsman: our guest finds things much altered, and cannot +understand it; nor can I; so I thought I would bring him to you, +since you know more of all that has happened within the last two +hundred years than any body else does.—What’s +that?”</p> +<p>And he turned toward the door again. We heard footsteps +outside; the door opened, and in came a very beautiful young +woman, who stopped short on seeing Dick, and flushed as red as a +rose, but faced him nevertheless. Dick looked at her hard, +and half reached out his hand toward her, and his whole face +quivered with emotion.</p> +<p>The old man did not leave them long in this shy discomfort, +but said, smiling with an old man’s mirth:</p> +<p>“Dick, my lad, and you, my dear Clara, I rather think +that we two oldsters are in your way; for I think you will have +plenty to say to each other. You had better go into +Nelson’s room up above; I know he has gone out; and he has +just been covering the walls all over with mediæval books, +so it will be pretty enough even for you two and your renewed +pleasure.”</p> +<p>The girl reached out her hand to Dick, and taking his led him +out of the room, looking straight before her; but it was easy to +see that her blushes came from happiness, not anger; as, indeed, +love is far more self-conscious than wrath.</p> +<p>When the door had shut on them the old man turned to me, still +smiling, and said:</p> +<p>“Frankly, my dear guest, you will do me a great service +if you are come to set my old tongue wagging. My love of +talk still abides with me, or rather grows on me; and though it +is pleasant enough to see these youngsters moving about and +playing together so seriously, as if the whole world depended on +their kisses (as indeed it does somewhat), yet I don’t +think my tales of the past interest them much. The last +harvest, the last baby, the last knot of carving in the +market-place, is history enough for them. It was different, +I think, when I was a lad, when we were not so assured of peace +and continuous plenty as we are now—Well, well! +Without putting you to the question, let me ask you this: Am I to +consider you as an enquirer who knows a little of our modern ways +of life, or as one who comes from some place where the very +foundations of life are different from ours,—do you know +anything or nothing about us?”</p> +<p>He looked at me keenly and with growing wonder in his eyes as +he spoke; and I answered in a low voice:</p> +<p>“I know only so much of your modern life as I could +gather from using my eyes on the way here from Hammersmith, and +from asking some questions of Richard Hammond, most of which he +could hardly understand.”</p> +<p>The old man smiled at this. “Then,” said he, +“I am to speak to you as—”</p> +<p>“As if I were a being from another planet,” said +I.</p> +<p>The old man, whose name, by the bye, like his kinsman’s, +was Hammond, smiled and nodded, and wheeling his seat round to +me, bade me sit in a heavy oak chair, and said, as he saw my eyes +fix on its curious carving:</p> +<p>“Yes, I am much tied to the past, my past, you +understand. These very pieces of furniture belong to a time +before my early days; it was my father who got them made; if they +had been done within the last fifty years they would have been +much cleverer in execution; but I don’t think I should have +liked them the better. We were almost beginning again in +those days: and they were brisk, hot-headed times. But you +hear how garrulous I am: ask me questions, ask me questions about +anything, dear guest; since I must talk, make my talk profitable +to you.”</p> +<p>I was silent for a minute, and then I said, somewhat +nervously: “Excuse me if I am rude; but I am so much +interested in Richard, since he has been so kind to me, a perfect +stranger, that I should like to ask a question about +him.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said old Hammond, “if he were not +‘kind’, as you call it, to a perfect stranger he +would be thought a strange person, and people would be apt to +shun him. But ask on, ask on! don’t be shy of +asking.”</p> +<p>Said I: “That beautiful girl, is he going to be married +to her?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “yes, he is. He has +been married to her once already, and now I should say it is +pretty clear that he will be married to her again.”</p> +<p>“Indeed,” quoth I, wondering what that meant.</p> +<p>“Here is the whole tale,” said old Hammond; +“a short one enough; and now I hope a happy one: they lived +together two years the first time; were both very young; and then +she got it into her head that she was in love with somebody +else. So she left poor Dick; I say <i>poor</i> Dick, +because he had not found any one else. But it did not last +long, only about a year. Then she came to me, as she was in +the habit of bringing her troubles to the old carle, and asked me +how Dick was, and whether he was happy, and all the rest of +it. So I saw how the land lay, and said that he was very +unhappy, and not at all well; which last at any rate was a +lie. There, you can guess the rest. Clara came to +have a long talk with me to-day, but Dick will serve her turn +much better. Indeed, if he hadn’t chanced in upon me +to-day I should have had to have sent for him +to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“Dear me,” said I. “Have they any +children?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he, “two; they are staying with +one of my daughters at present, where, indeed, Clara has mostly +been. I wouldn’t lose sight of her, as I felt sure +they would come together again: and Dick, who is the best of good +fellows, really took the matter to heart. You see, he had +no other love to run to, as she had. So I managed it all; +as I have done with such-like matters before.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said I, “no doubt you wanted to keep +them out of the Divorce Court: but I suppose it often has to +settle such matters.”</p> +<p>“Then you suppose nonsense,” said he. +“I know that there used to be such lunatic affairs as +divorce-courts: but just consider; all the cases that came into +them were matters of property quarrels: and I think, dear +guest,” said he, smiling, “that though you do come +from another planet, you can see from the mere outside look of +our world that quarrels about private property could not go on +amongst us in our days.”</p> +<p>Indeed, my drive from Hammersmith to Bloomsbury, and all the +quiet happy life I had seen so many hints of; even apart from my +shopping, would have been enough to tell me that “the +sacred rights of property,” as we used to think of them, +were now no more. So I sat silent while the old man took up +the thread of the discourse again, and said:</p> +<p>“Well, then, property quarrels being no longer possible, +what remains in these matters that a court of law could deal +with? Fancy a court for enforcing a contract of passion or +sentiment! If such a thing were needed as a <i>reductio ad +absurdum</i> of the enforcement of contract, such a folly would +do that for us.”</p> +<p>He was silent again a little, and then said: “You must +understand once for all that we have changed these matters; or +rather, that our way of looking at them has changed, as we have +changed within the last two hundred years. We do not +deceive ourselves, indeed, or believe that we can get rid of all +the trouble that besets the dealings between the sexes. We +know that we must face the unhappiness that comes of man and +woman confusing the relations between natural passion, and +sentiment, and the friendship which, when things go well, softens +the awakening from passing illusions: but we are not so mad as to +pile up degradation on that unhappiness by engaging in sordid +squabbles about livelihood and position, and the power of +tyrannising over the children who have been the results of love +or lust.”</p> +<p>Again he paused awhile, and again went on: “Calf love, +mistaken for a heroism that shall be lifelong, yet early waning +into disappointment; the inexplicable desire that comes on a man +of riper years to be the all-in-all to some one woman, whose +ordinary human kindness and human beauty he has idealised into +superhuman perfection, and made the one object of his desire; or +lastly the reasonable longing of a strong and thoughtful man to +become the most intimate friend of some beautiful and wise woman, +the very type of the beauty and glory of the world which we love +so well,—as we exult in all the pleasure and exaltation of +spirit which goes with these things, so we set ourselves to bear +the sorrow which not unseldom goes with them also; remembering +those lines of the ancient poet (I quote roughly from memory one +of the many translations of the nineteenth century):</p> +<blockquote><p>‘For this the Gods have fashioned +man’s grief and evil day<br /> +That still for man hereafter might be the tale and the +lay.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Well, well, ’tis little likely anyhow that all tales +shall be lacking, or all sorrow cured.”</p> +<p>He was silent for some time, and I would not interrupt +him. At last he began again: “But you must know that +we of these generations are strong and healthy of body, and live +easily; we pass our lives in reasonable strife with nature, +exercising not one side of ourselves only, but all sides, taking +the keenest pleasure in all the life of the world. So it is +a point of honour with us not to be self-centred; not to suppose +that the world must cease because one man is sorry; therefore we +should think it foolish, or if you will, criminal, to exaggerate +these matters of sentiment and sensibility: we are no more +inclined to eke out our sentimental sorrows than to cherish our +bodily pains; and we recognise that there are other pleasures +besides love-making. You must remember, also, that we are +long-lived, and that therefore beauty both in man and woman is +not so fleeting as it was in the days when we were burdened so +heavily by self-inflicted diseases. So we shake off these +griefs in a way which perhaps the sentimentalists of other times +would think contemptible and unheroic, but which we think +necessary and manlike. As on the other hand, therefore, we +have ceased to be commercial in our love-matters, so also we have +ceased to be <i>artificially</i> foolish. The folly which +comes by nature, the unwisdom of the immature man, or the older +man caught in a trap, we must put up with that, nor are we much +ashamed of it; but to be conventionally sensitive or +sentimental—my friend, I am old and perhaps disappointed, +but at least I think we have cast off <i>some</i> of the follies +of the older world.”</p> +<p>He paused, as if for some words of mine; but I held my peace: +then he went on: “At least, if we suffer from the tyranny +and fickleness of nature or our own want of experience, we +neither grimace about it, nor lie. If there must be +sundering betwixt those who meant never to sunder, so it must be: +but there need be no pretext of unity when the reality of it is +gone: nor do we drive those who well know that they are incapable +of it to profess an undying sentiment which they cannot really +feel: thus it is that as that monstrosity of venal lust is no +longer possible, so also it is no longer needed. +Don’t misunderstand me. You did not seemed shocked +when I told you that there were no law-courts to enforce +contracts of sentiment or passion; but so curiously are men made, +that perhaps you will be shocked when I tell you that there is no +code of public opinion which takes the place of such courts, and +which might be as tyrannical and unreasonable as they were. +I do not say that people don’t judge their +neighbours’ conduct, sometimes, doubtless, unfairly. +But I do say that there is no unvarying conventional set of rules +by which people are judged; no bed of Procrustes to stretch or +cramp their minds and lives; no hypocritical excommunication +which people are <i>forced</i> to pronounce, either by +unconsidered habit, or by the unexpressed threat of the lesser +interdict if they are lax in their hypocrisy. Are you +shocked now?”</p> +<p>“N-o—no,” said I, with some +hesitation. “It is all so different.”</p> +<p>“At any rate,” said he, “one thing I think I +can answer for: whatever sentiment there is, it is real—and +general; it is not confined to people very specially +refined. I am also pretty sure, as I hinted to you just +now, that there is not by a great way as much suffering involved +in these matters either to men or to women as there used to +be. But excuse me for being so prolix on this +question! You know you asked to be treated like a being +from another planet.”</p> +<p>“Indeed I thank you very much,” said I. +“Now may I ask you about the position of women in your +society?”</p> +<p>He laughed very heartily for a man of his years, and said: +“It is not without reason that I have got a reputation as a +careful student of history. I believe I really do +understand ‘the Emancipation of Women movement’ of +the nineteenth century. I doubt if any other man now alive +does.”</p> +<p>“Well?” said I, a little bit nettled by his +merriment.</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “of course you will see +that all that is a dead controversy now. The men have no +longer any opportunity of tyrannising over the women, or the +women over the men; both of which things took place in those old +times. The women do what they can do best, and what they +like best, and the men are neither jealous of it or injured by +it. This is such a commonplace that I am almost ashamed to +state it.”</p> +<p>I said, “O; and legislation? do they take any part in +that?”</p> +<p>Hammond smiled and said: “I think you may wait for an +answer to that question till we get on to the subject of +legislation. There may be novelties to you in that subject +also.”</p> +<p>“Very well,” I said; “but about this woman +question? I saw at the Guest House that the women were +waiting on the men: that seems a little like reaction +doesn’t it?”</p> +<p>“Does it?” said the old man; “perhaps you +think housekeeping an unimportant occupation, not deserving of +respect. I believe that was the opinion of the +‘advanced’ women of the nineteenth century, and their +male backers. If it is yours, I recommend to your notice an +old Norwegian folk-lore tale called How the Man minded the House, +or some such title; the result of which minding was that, after +various tribulations, the man and the family cow balanced each +other at the end of a rope, the man hanging halfway up the +chimney, the cow dangling from the roof, which, after the fashion +of the country, was of turf and sloping down low to the +ground. Hard on the cow, <i>I</i> think. Of course no +such mishap could happen to such a superior person as +yourself,” he added, chuckling.</p> +<p>I sat somewhat uneasy under this dry gibe. Indeed, his +manner of treating this latter part of the question seemed to me +a little disrespectful.</p> +<p>“Come, now, my friend,” quoth he, +“don’t you know that it is a great pleasure to a +clever woman to manage a house skilfully, and to do it so that +all the house-mates about her look pleased, and are grateful to +her? And then, you know, everybody likes to be ordered +about by a pretty woman: why, it is one of the pleasantest forms +of flirtation. You are not so old that you cannot remember +that. Why, I remember it well.”</p> +<p>And the old fellow chuckled again, and at last fairly burst +out laughing.</p> +<p>“Excuse me,” said he, after a while; “I am +not laughing at anything you could be thinking of; but at that +silly nineteenth-century fashion, current amongst rich so-called +cultivated people, of ignoring all the steps by which their daily +dinner was reached, as matters too low for their lofty +intelligence. Useless idiots! Come, now, I am a +‘literary man,’ as we queer animals used to be +called, yet I am a pretty good cook myself.”</p> +<p>“So am I,” said I.</p> +<p>“Well, then,” said he, “I really think you +can understand me better than you would seem to do, judging by +your words and your silence.”</p> +<p>Said I: “Perhaps that is so; but people putting in +practice commonly this sense of interest in the ordinary +occupations of life rather startles me. I will ask you a +question or two presently about that. But I want to return +to the position of women amongst you. You have studied the +‘emancipation of women’ business of the nineteenth +century: don’t you remember that some of the +‘superior’ women wanted to emancipate the more +intelligent part of their sex from the bearing of +children?”</p> +<p>The old man grew quite serious again. Said he: “I +<i>do</i> remember about that strange piece of baseless folly, +the result, like all other follies of the period, of the hideous +class tyranny which then obtained. What do we think of it +now? you would say. My friend, that is a question easy to +answer. How could it possibly be but that maternity should +be highly honoured amongst us? Surely it is a matter of +course that the natural and necessary pains which the mother must +go through form a bond of union between man and woman, an extra +stimulus to love and affection between them, and that this is +universally recognised. For the rest, remember that all the +<i>artificial</i> burdens of motherhood are now done away +with. A mother has no longer any mere sordid anxieties for +the future of her children. They may indeed turn out better +or worse; they may disappoint her highest hopes; such anxieties +as these are a part of the mingled pleasure and pain which goes +to make up the life of mankind. But at least she is spared +the fear (it was most commonly the certainty) that artificial +disabilities would make her children something less than men and +women: she knows that they will live and act according to the +measure of their own faculties. In times past, it is clear +that the ‘Society’ of the day helped its Judaic god, +and the ‘Man of Science’ of the time, in visiting the +sins of the fathers upon the children. How to reverse this +process, how to take the sting out of heredity, has for long been +one of the most constant cares of the thoughtful men amongst +us. So that, you see, the ordinarily healthy woman (and +almost all our women are both healthy and at least comely), +respected as a child-bearer and rearer of children, desired as a +woman, loved as a companion, unanxious for the future of her +children, has far more instinct for maternity than the poor +drudge and mother of drudges of past days could ever have had; or +than her sister of the upper classes, brought up in affected +ignorance of natural facts, reared in an atmosphere of mingled +prudery and prurience.”</p> +<p>“You speak warmly,” I said, “but I can see +that you are right.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said, “and I will point out to you +a token of all the benefits which we have gained by our +freedom. What did you think of the looks of the people whom +you have come across to-day?”</p> +<p>Said I: “I could hardly have believed that there could +be so many good-looking people in any civilised +country.”</p> +<p>He crowed a little, like the old bird he was. +“What! are we still civilised?” said he. +“Well, as to our looks, the English and Jutish blood, which +on the whole is predominant here, used not to produce much +beauty. But I think we have improved it. I know a man +who has a large collection of portraits printed from photographs +of the nineteenth century, and going over those and comparing +them with the everyday faces in these times, puts the improvement +in our good looks beyond a doubt. Now, there are some +people who think it not too fantastic to connect this increase of +beauty directly with our freedom and good sense in the matters we +have been speaking of: they believe that a child born from the +natural and healthy love between a man and a woman, even if that +be transient, is likely to turn out better in all ways, and +especially in bodily beauty, than the birth of the respectable +commercial marriage bed, or of the dull despair of the drudge of +that system. They say, Pleasure begets pleasure. What +do you think?”</p> +<p>“I am much of that mind,” said I.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER X: QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS</h2> +<p>“Well,” said the old man, shifting in his chair, +“you must get on with your questions, Guest; I have been +some time answering this first one.”</p> +<p>Said I: “I want an extra word or two about your ideas of +education; although I gathered from Dick that you let your +children run wild and didn’t teach them anything; and in +short, that you have so refined your education, that now you have +none.”</p> +<p>“Then you gathered left-handed,” quoth he. +“But of course I understand your point of view about +education, which is that of times past, when ‘the struggle +for life,’ as men used to phrase it (<i>i.e.</i>, the +struggle for a slave’s rations on one side, and for a +bouncing share of the slave-holders’ privilege on the +other), pinched ‘education’ for most people into a +niggardly dole of not very accurate information; something to be +swallowed by the beginner in the art of living whether he liked +it or not, and was hungry for it or not: and which had been +chewed and digested over and over again by people who +didn’t care about it in order to serve it out to other +people who didn’t care about it.”</p> +<p>I stopped the old man’s rising wrath by a laugh, and +said: “Well, <i>you</i> were not taught that way, at any +rate, so you may let your anger run off you a little.”</p> +<p>“True, true,” said he, smiling. “I +thank you for correcting my ill-temper: I always fancy myself as +living in any period of which we may be speaking. But, +however, to put it in a cooler way: you expected to see children +thrust into schools when they had reached an age conventionally +supposed to be the due age, whatever their varying faculties and +dispositions might be, and when there, with like disregard to +facts to be subjected to a certain conventional course of +‘learning.’ My friend, can’t you see that +such a proceeding means ignoring the fact of <i>growth</i>, +bodily and mental? No one could come out of such a mill +uninjured; and those only would avoid being crushed by it who +would have the spirit of rebellion strong in them. +Fortunately most children have had that at all times, or I do not +know that we should ever have reached our present position. +Now you see what it all comes to. In the old times all this +was the result of <i>poverty</i>. In the nineteenth +century, society was so miserably poor, owing to the systematised +robbery on which it was founded, that real education was +impossible for anybody. The whole theory of their so-called +education was that it was necessary to shove a little information +into a child, even if it were by means of torture, and +accompanied by twaddle which it was well known was of no use, or +else he would lack information lifelong: the hurry of poverty +forbade anything else. All that is past; we are no longer +hurried, and the information lies ready to each one’s hand +when his own inclinations impel him to seek it. In this as +in other matters we have become wealthy: we can afford to give +ourselves time to grow.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “but suppose the child, +youth, man, never wants the information, never grows in the +direction you might hope him to do: suppose, for instance, he +objects to learning arithmetic or mathematics; you can’t +force him when he <i>is</i> grown; can’t you force him +while he is growing, and oughtn’t you to do so?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “were you forced to learn +arithmetic and mathematics?”</p> +<p>“A little,” said I.</p> +<p>“And how old are you now?”</p> +<p>“Say fifty-six,” said I.</p> +<p>“And how much arithmetic and mathematics do you know +now?” quoth the old man, smiling rather mockingly.</p> +<p>Said I: “None whatever, I am sorry to say.”</p> +<p>Hammond laughed quietly, but made no other comment on my +admission, and I dropped the subject of education, perceiving him +to be hopeless on that side.</p> +<p>I thought a little, and said: “You were speaking just +now of households: that sounded to me a little like the customs +of past times; I should have thought you would have lived more in +public.”</p> +<p>“Phalangsteries, eh?” said he. “Well, +we live as we like, and we like to live as a rule with certain +house-mates that we have got used to. Remember, again, that +poverty is extinct, and that the Fourierist phalangsteries and +all their kind, as was but natural at the time, implied nothing +but a refuge from mere destitution. Such a way of life as +that, could only have been conceived of by people surrounded by +the worst form of poverty. But you must understand +therewith, that though separate households are the rule amongst +us, and though they differ in their habits more or less, yet no +door is shut to any good-tempered person who is content to live +as the other house-mates do: only of course it would be +unreasonable for one man to drop into a household and bid the +folk of it to alter their habits to please him, since he can go +elsewhere and live as he pleases. However, I need not say +much about all this, as you are going up the river with Dick, and +will find out for yourself by experience how these matters are +managed.”</p> +<p>After a pause, I said: “Your big towns, now; how about +them? London, which—which I have read about as the +modern Babylon of civilization, seems to have +disappeared.”</p> +<p>“Well, well,” said old Hammond, “perhaps +after all it is more like ancient Babylon now than the +‘modern Babylon’ of the nineteenth century was. +But let that pass. After all, there is a good deal of +population in places between here and Hammersmith; nor have you +seen the most populous part of the town yet.”</p> +<p>“Tell me, then,” said I, “how is it towards +the east?”</p> +<p>Said he: “Time was when if you mounted a good horse and +rode straight away from my door here at a round trot for an hour +and a half; you would still be in the thick of London, and the +greater part of that would be ‘slums,’ as they were +called; that is to say, places of torture for innocent men and +women; or worse, stews for rearing and breeding men and women in +such degradation that that torture should seem to them mere +ordinary and natural life.”</p> +<p>“I know, I know,” I said, rather +impatiently. “That was what was; tell me something of +what is. Is any of that left?”</p> +<p>“Not an inch,” said he; “but some memory of +it abides with us, and I am glad of it. Once a year, on +May-day, we hold a solemn feast in those easterly communes of +London to commemorate The Clearing of Misery, as it is +called. On that day we have music and dancing, and merry +games and happy feasting on the site of some of the worst of the +old slums, the traditional memory of which we have kept. On +that occasion the custom is for the prettiest girls to sing some +of the old revolutionary songs, and those which were the groans +of the discontent, once so hopeless, on the very spots where +those terrible crimes of class-murder were committed day by day +for so many years. To a man like me, who have studied the +past so diligently, it is a curious and touching sight to see +some beautiful girl, daintily clad, and crowned with flowers from +the neighbouring meadows, standing amongst the happy people, on +some mound where of old time stood the wretched apology for a +house, a den in which men and women lived packed amongst the +filth like pilchards in a cask; lived in such a way that they +could only have endured it, as I said just now, by being degraded +out of humanity—to hear the terrible words of threatening +and lamentation coming from her sweet and beautiful lips, and she +unconscious of their real meaning: to hear her, for instance, +singing Hood’s Song of the Shirt, and to think that all the +time she does not understand what it is all about—a tragedy +grown inconceivable to her and her listeners. Think of +that, if you can, and of how glorious life is grown!”</p> +<p>“Indeed,” said I, “it is difficult for me to +think of it.”</p> +<p>And I sat watching how his eyes glittered, and how the fresh +life seemed to glow in his face, and I wondered how at his age he +should think of the happiness of the world, or indeed anything +but his coming dinner.</p> +<p>“Tell me in detail,” said I, “what lies east +of Bloomsbury now?”</p> +<p>Said he: “There are but few houses between this and the +outer part of the old city; but in the city we have a +thickly-dwelling population. Our forefathers, in the first +clearing of the slums, were not in a hurry to pull down the +houses in what was called at the end of the nineteenth century +the business quarter of the town, and what later got to be known +as the Swindling Kens. You see, these houses, though they +stood hideously thick on the ground, were roomy and fairly solid +in building, and clean, because they were not used for living in, +but as mere gambling booths; so the poor people from the cleared +slums took them for lodgings and dwelt there, till the folk of +those days had time to think of something better for them; so the +buildings were pulled down so gradually that people got used to +living thicker on the ground there than in most places; therefore +it remains the most populous part of London, or perhaps of all +these islands. But it is very pleasant there, partly +because of the splendour of the architecture, which goes further +than what you will see elsewhere. However, this crowding, +if it may be called so, does not go further than a street called +Aldgate, a name which perhaps you may have heard of. Beyond +that the houses are scattered wide about the meadows there, which +are very beautiful, especially when you get on to the lovely +river Lea (where old Isaak Walton used to fish, you know) about +the places called Stratford and Old Ford, names which of course +you will not have heard of, though the Romans were busy there +once upon a time.”</p> +<p>Not heard of them! thought I to myself. How strange! +that I who had seen the very last remnant of the pleasantness of +the meadows by the Lea destroyed, should have heard them spoken +of with pleasantness come back to them in full measure.</p> +<p>Hammond went on: “When you get down to the Thames side +you come on the Docks, which are works of the nineteenth century, +and are still in use, although not so thronged as they once were, +since we discourage centralisation all we can, and we have long +ago dropped the pretension to be the market of the world. +About these Docks are a good few houses, which, however, are not +inhabited by many people permanently; I mean, those who use them +come and go a good deal, the place being too low and marshy for +pleasant dwelling. Past the Docks eastward and landward it +is all flat pasture, once marsh, except for a few gardens, and +there are very few permanent dwellings there: scarcely anything +but a few sheds, and cots for the men who come to look after the +great herds of cattle pasturing there. But however, what +with the beasts and the men, and the scattered red-tiled roofs +and the big hayricks, it does not make a bad holiday to get a +quiet pony and ride about there on a sunny afternoon of autumn, +and look over the river and the craft passing up and down, and on +to Shooters’ Hill and the Kentish uplands, and then turn +round to the wide green sea of the Essex marsh-land, with the +great domed line of the sky, and the sun shining down in one +flood of peaceful light over the long distance. There is a +place called Canning’s Town, and further out, Silvertown, +where the pleasant meadows are at their pleasantest: doubtless +they were once slums, and wretched enough.”</p> +<p>The names grated on my ear, but I could not explain why to +him. So I said: “And south of the river, what is it +like?”</p> +<p>He said: “You would find it much the same as the land +about Hammersmith. North, again, the land runs up high, and +there is an agreeable and well-built town called Hampstead, which +fitly ends London on that side. It looks down on the +north-western end of the forest you passed through.”</p> +<p>I smiled. “So much for what was once +London,” said I. “Now tell me about the other +towns of the country.”</p> +<p>He said: “As to the big murky places which were once, as +we know, the centres of manufacture, they have, like the brick +and mortar desert of London, disappeared; only, since they were +centres of nothing but ‘manufacture,’ and served no +purpose but that of the gambling market, they have left less +signs of their existence than London. Of course, the great +change in the use of mechanical force made this an easy matter, +and some approach to their break-up as centres would probably +have taken place, even if we had not changed our habits so much: +but they being such as they were, no sacrifice would have seemed +too great a price to pay for getting rid of the +‘manufacturing districts,’ as they used to be +called. For the rest, whatever coal or mineral we need is +brought to grass and sent whither it is needed with as little as +possible of dirt, confusion, and the distressing of quiet +people’s lives. One is tempted to believe from what +one has read of the condition of those districts in the +nineteenth century, that those who had them under their power +worried, befouled, and degraded men out of malice prepense: but +it was not so; like the mis-education of which we were talking +just now, it came of their dreadful poverty. They were +obliged to put up with everything, and even pretend that they +liked it; whereas we can now deal with things reasonably, and +refuse to be saddled with what we do not want.”</p> +<p>I confess I was not sorry to cut short with a question his +glorifications of the age he lived in. Said I: “How +about the smaller towns? I suppose you have swept those +away entirely?”</p> +<p>“No, no,” said he, “it hasn’t gone +that way. On the contrary, there has been but little +clearance, though much rebuilding, in the smaller towns. +Their suburbs, indeed, when they had any, have melted away into +the general country, and space and elbow-room has been got in +their centres: but there are the towns still with their streets +and squares and market-places; so that it is by means of these +smaller towns that we of to-day can get some kind of idea of what +the towns of the older world were like;—I mean to say at +their best.”</p> +<p>“Take Oxford, for instance,” said I.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he, “I suppose Oxford was +beautiful even in the nineteenth century. At present it has +the great interest of still preserving a great mass of +pre-commercial building, and is a very beautiful place, yet there +are many towns which have become scarcely less +beautiful.”</p> +<p>Said I: “In passing, may I ask if it is still a place of +learning?”</p> +<p>“Still?” said he, smiling. “Well, it +has reverted to some of its best traditions; so you may imagine +how far it is from its nineteenth-century position. It is +real learning, knowledge cultivated for its own sake—the +Art of Knowledge, in short—which is followed there, not the +Commercial learning of the past. Though perhaps you do not +know that in the nineteenth century Oxford and its less +interesting sister Cambridge became definitely commercial. +They (and especially Oxford) were the breeding places of a +peculiar class of parasites, who called themselves cultivated +people; they were indeed cynical enough, as the so-called +educated classes of the day generally were; but they affected an +exaggeration of cynicism in order that they might be thought +knowing and worldly-wise. The rich middle classes (they had +no relation with the working classes) treated them with the kind +of contemptuous toleration with which a mediæval baron +treated his jester; though it must be said that they were by no +means so pleasant as the old jesters were, being, in fact, +<i>the</i> bores of society. They were laughed at, +despised—and paid. Which last was what they aimed +at.”</p> +<p>Dear me! thought I, how apt history is to reverse contemporary +judgments. Surely only the worst of them were as bad as +that. But I must admit that they were mostly prigs, and +that they <i>were</i> commercial. I said aloud, though more +to myself than to Hammond, “Well, how could they be better +than the age that made them?”</p> +<p>“True,” he said, “but their pretensions were +higher.”</p> +<p>“Were they?” said I, smiling.</p> +<p>“You drive me from corner to corner,” said he, +smiling in turn. “Let me say at least that they were +a poor sequence to the aspirations of Oxford of ‘the +barbarous Middle Ages.’”</p> +<p>“Yes, that will do,” said I.</p> +<p>“Also,” said Hammond, “what I have been +saying of them is true in the main. But ask on!”</p> +<p>I said: “We have heard about London and the +manufacturing districts and the ordinary towns: how about the +villages?”</p> +<p>Said Hammond: “You must know that toward the end of the +nineteenth century the villages were almost destroyed, unless +where they became mere adjuncts to the manufacturing districts, +or formed a sort of minor manufacturing districts +themselves. Houses were allowed to fall into decay and +actual ruin; trees were cut down for the sake of the few +shillings which the poor sticks would fetch; the building became +inexpressibly mean and hideous. Labour was scarce; but +wages fell nevertheless. All the small country arts of life +which once added to the little pleasures of country people were +lost. The country produce which passed through the hands of +the husbandmen never got so far as their mouths. Incredible +shabbiness and niggardly pinching reigned over the fields and +acres which, in spite of the rude and careless husbandry of the +times, were so kind and bountiful. Had you any inkling of +all this?”</p> +<p>“I have heard that it was so,” said I “but +what followed?”</p> +<p>“The change,” said Hammond, “which in these +matters took place very early in our epoch, was most strangely +rapid. People flocked into the country villages, and, so to +say, flung themselves upon the freed land like a wild beast upon +his prey; and in a very little time the villages of England were +more populous than they had been since the fourteenth century, +and were still growing fast. Of course, this invasion of +the country was awkward to deal with, and would have created much +misery, if the folk had still been under the bondage of class +monopoly. But as it was, things soon righted +themselves. People found out what they were fit for, and +gave up attempting to push themselves into occupations in which +they must needs fail. The town invaded the country; but the +invaders, like the warlike invaders of early days, yielded to the +influence of their surroundings, and became country people; and +in their turn, as they became more numerous than the townsmen, +influenced them also; so that the difference between town and +country grew less and less; and it was indeed this world of the +country vivified by the thought and briskness of town-bred folk +which has produced that happy and leisurely but eager life of +which you have had a first taste. Again I say, many +blunders were made, but we have had time to set them right. +Much was left for the men of my earlier life to deal with. +The crude ideas of the first half of the twentieth century, when +men were still oppressed by the fear of poverty, and did not look +enough to the present pleasure of ordinary daily life, spoilt a +great deal of what the commercial age had left us of external +beauty: and I admit that it was but slowly that men recovered +from the injuries that they inflicted on themselves even after +they became free. But slowly as the recovery came, it +<i>did</i> come; and the more you see of us, the clearer it will +be to you that we are happy. That we live amidst beauty +without any fear of becoming effeminate; that we have plenty to +do, and on the whole enjoy doing it. What more can we ask +of life?”</p> +<p>He paused, as if he were seeking for words with which to +express his thought. Then he said:</p> +<p>“This is how we stand. England was once a country +of clearings amongst the woods and wastes, with a few towns +interspersed, which were fortresses for the feudal army, markets +for the folk, gathering places for the craftsmen. It then +became a country of huge and foul workshops and fouler +gambling-dens, surrounded by an ill-kept, poverty-stricken farm, +pillaged by the masters of the workshops. It is now a +garden, where nothing is wasted and nothing is spoilt, with the +necessary dwellings, sheds, and workshops scattered up and down +the country, all trim and neat and pretty. For, indeed, we +should be too much ashamed of ourselves if we allowed the making +of goods, even on a large scale, to carry with it the appearance, +even, of desolation and misery. Why, my friend, those +housewives we were talking of just now would teach us better than +that.”</p> +<p>Said I: “This side of your change is certainly for the +better. But though I shall soon see some of these villages, +tell me in a word or two what they are like, just to prepare +me.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps,” said he, “you have seen a +tolerable picture of these villages as they were before the end +of the nineteenth century. Such things exist.”</p> +<p>“I have seen several of such pictures,” said +I.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Hammond, “our villages are +something like the best of such places, with the church or +mote-house of the neighbours for their chief building. Only +note that there are no tokens of poverty about them: no +tumble-down picturesque; which, to tell you the truth, the artist +usually availed himself of to veil his incapacity for drawing +architecture. Such things do not please us, even when they +indicate no misery. Like the mediævals, we like +everything trim and clean, and orderly and bright; as people +always do when they have any sense of architectural power; +because then they know that they can have what they want, and +they won’t stand any nonsense from Nature in their dealings +with her.”</p> +<p>“Besides the villages, are there any scattered country +houses?” said I.</p> +<p>“Yes, plenty,” said Hammond; “in fact, +except in the wastes and forests and amongst the sand-hills (like +Hindhead in Surrey), it is not easy to be out of sight of a +house; and where the houses are thinly scattered they run large, +and are more like the old colleges than ordinary houses as they +used to be. That is done for the sake of society, for a +good many people can dwell in such houses, as the country +dwellers are not necessarily husbandmen; though they almost all +help in such work at times. The life that goes on in these +big dwellings in the country is very pleasant, especially as some +of the most studious men of our time live in them, and altogether +there is a great variety of mind and mood to be found in them +which brightens and quickens the society there.”</p> +<p>“I am rather surprised,” said I, “by all +this, for it seems to me that after all the country must be +tolerably populous.”</p> +<p>“Certainly,” said he; “the population is +pretty much the same as it was at the end of the nineteenth +century; we have spread it, that is all. Of course, also, +we have helped to populate other countries—where we were +wanted and were called for.”</p> +<p>Said I: “One thing, it seems to me, does not go with +your word of ‘garden’ for the country. You have +spoken of wastes and forests, and I myself have seen the +beginning of your Middlesex and Essex forest. Why do you +keep such things in a garden? and isn’t it very wasteful to +do so?”</p> +<p>“My friend,” he said, “we like these pieces +of wild nature, and can afford them, so we have them; let alone +that as to the forests, we need a great deal of timber, and +suppose that our sons and sons’ sons will do the +like. As to the land being a garden, I have heard that they +used to have shrubberies and rockeries in gardens once; and +though I might not like the artificial ones, I assure you that +some of the natural rockeries of our garden are worth +seeing. Go north this summer and look at the Cumberland and +Westmoreland ones,—where, by the way, you will see some +sheep-feeding, so that they are not so wasteful as you think; not +so wasteful as forcing-grounds for fruit out of season, <i>I</i> +think. Go and have a look at the sheep-walks high up the +slopes between Ingleborough and Pen-y-gwent, and tell me if you +think we <i>waste</i> the land there by not covering it with +factories for making things that nobody wants, which was the +chief business of the nineteenth century.”</p> +<p>“I will try to go there,” said I.</p> +<p>“It won’t take much trying,” said he.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI: CONCERNING GOVERNMENT</h2> +<p>“Now,” said I, “I have come to the point of +asking questions which I suppose will be dry for you to answer +and difficult for you to explain; but I have foreseen for some +time past that I must ask them, will I ’nill I. What +kind of a government have you? Has republicanism finally +triumphed? or have you come to a mere dictatorship, which some +persons in the nineteenth century used to prophesy as the +ultimate outcome of democracy? Indeed, this last question +does not seem so very unreasonable, since you have turned your +Parliament House into a dung-market. Or where do you house +your present Parliament?”</p> +<p>The old man answered my smile with a hearty laugh, and said: +“Well, well, dung is not the worst kind of corruption; +fertility may come of that, whereas mere dearth came from the +other kind, of which those walls once held the great +supporters. Now, dear guest, let me tell you that our +present parliament would be hard to house in one place, because +the whole people is our parliament.”</p> +<p>“I don’t understand,” said I.</p> +<p>“No, I suppose not,” said he. “I must +now shock you by telling you that we have no longer anything +which you, a native of another planet, would call a +government.”</p> +<p>“I am not so much shocked as you might think,” +said I, “as I know something about governments. But +tell me, how do you manage, and how have you come to this state +of things?”</p> +<p>Said he: “It is true that we have to make some +arrangements about our affairs, concerning which you can ask +presently; and it is also true that everybody does not always +agree with the details of these arrangements; but, further, it is +true that a man no more needs an elaborate system of government, +with its army, navy, and police, to force him to give way to the +will of the majority of his <i>equals</i>, than he wants a +similar machinery to make him understand that his head and a +stone wall cannot occupy the same space at the same moment. +Do you want further explanation?”</p> +<p>“Well, yes, I do,” quoth I.</p> +<p>Old Hammond settled himself in his chair with a look of +enjoyment which rather alarmed me, and made me dread a scientific +disquisition: so I sighed and abided. He said:</p> +<p>“I suppose you know pretty well what the process of +government was in the bad old times?”</p> +<p>“I am supposed to know,” said I.</p> +<p>(Hammond) What was the government of those days? +Was it really the Parliament or any part of it?</p> +<p>(I) No.</p> +<p>(H.) Was not the Parliament on the one side a kind of +watch-committee sitting to see that the interests of the Upper +Classes took no hurt; and on the other side a sort of blind to +delude the people into supposing that they had some share in the +management of their own affairs?</p> +<p>(I) History seems to show us this.</p> +<p>(H.) To what extent did the people manage their own +affairs?</p> +<p>(I) I judge from what I have heard that sometimes they +forced the Parliament to make a law to legalise some alteration +which had already taken place.</p> +<p>(H.) Anything else?</p> +<p>(I) I think not. As I am informed, if the people +made any attempt to deal with the <i>cause</i> of their +grievances, the law stepped in and said, this is sedition, +revolt, or what not, and slew or tortured the ringleaders of such +attempts.</p> +<p>(H.) If Parliament was not the government then, nor the +people either, what was the government?</p> +<p>(I) Can you tell me?</p> +<p>(H.) I think we shall not be far wrong if we say that +government was the Law-Courts, backed up by the executive, which +handled the brute force that the deluded people allowed them to +use for their own purposes; I mean the army, navy, and +police.</p> +<p>(I) Reasonable men must needs think you are right.</p> +<p>(H.) Now as to those Law-Courts. Were they places +of fair dealing according to the ideas of the day? Had a +poor man a good chance of defending his property and person in +them?</p> +<p>(I) It is a commonplace that even rich men looked upon a +law-suit as a dire misfortune, even if they gained the case; and +as for a poor one—why, it was considered a miracle of +justice and beneficence if a poor man who had once got into the +clutches of the law escaped prison or utter ruin.</p> +<p>(H.) It seems, then, my son, that the government by +law-courts and police, which was the real government of the +nineteenth century, was not a great success even to the people of +that day, living under a class system which proclaimed inequality +and poverty as the law of God and the bond which held the world +together.</p> +<p>(I) So it seems, indeed.</p> +<p>(H.) And now that all this is changed, and the +“rights of property,” which mean the clenching the +fist on a piece of goods and crying out to the neighbours, You +shan’t have this!—now that all this has disappeared +so utterly that it is no longer possible even to jest upon its +absurdity, is such a Government possible?</p> +<p>(I) It is impossible.</p> +<p>(H.) Yes, happily. But for what other purpose than +the protection of the rich from the poor, the strong from the +weak, did this Government exist?</p> +<p>(I.) I have heard that it was said that their office was +to defend their own citizens against attack from other +countries.</p> +<p>(H.) It was said; but was anyone expected to believe +this? For instance, did the English Government defend the +English citizen against the French?</p> +<p>(I) So it was said.</p> +<p>(H.) Then if the French had invaded England and +conquered it, they would not have allowed the English workmen to +live well?</p> +<p>(I, laughing) As far as I can make out, the English +masters of the English workmen saw to that: they took from their +workmen as much of their livelihood as they dared, because they +wanted it for themselves.</p> +<p>(H.) But if the French had conquered, would they not +have taken more still from the English workmen?</p> +<p>(I) I do not think so; for in that case the English +workmen would have died of starvation; and then the French +conquest would have ruined the French, just as if the English +horses and cattle had died of under-feeding. So that after +all, the English <i>workmen</i> would have been no worse off for +the conquest: their French Masters could have got no more from +them than their English masters did.</p> +<p>(H.) This is true; and we may admit that the pretensions +of the government to defend the poor (<i>i.e.</i>, the useful) +people against other countries come to nothing. But that is +but natural; for we have seen already that it was the function of +government to protect the rich against the poor. But did +not the government defend its rich men against other nations?</p> +<p>(I) I do not remember to have heard that the rich needed +defence; because it is said that even when two nations were at +war, the rich men of each nation gambled with each other pretty +much as usual, and even sold each other weapons wherewith to kill +their own countrymen.</p> +<p>(H.) In short, it comes to this, that whereas the +so-called government of protection of property by means of the +law-courts meant destruction of wealth, this defence of the +citizens of one country against those of another country by means +of war or the threat of war meant pretty much the same thing.</p> +<p>(I) I cannot deny it.</p> +<p>(H.) Therefore the government really existed for the +destruction of wealth?</p> +<p>(I) So it seems. And yet—</p> +<p>(H.) Yet what?</p> +<p>(I) There were many rich people in those times.</p> +<p>(H.) You see the consequences of that fact?</p> +<p>(I) I think I do. But tell me out what they +were.</p> +<p>(H.) If the government habitually destroyed wealth, the +country must have been poor?</p> +<p>(I) Yes, certainly.</p> +<p>(H.) Yet amidst this poverty the persons for the sake of +whom the government existed insisted on being rich whatever might +happen?</p> +<p>(I) So it was.</p> +<p>(H.) What must happen if in a poor country some people +insist on being rich at the expense of the others?</p> +<p>(I) Unutterable poverty for the others. All this +misery, then, was caused by the destructive government of which +we have been speaking?</p> +<p>(H.) Nay, it would be incorrect to say so. The +government itself was but the necessary result of the careless, +aimless tyranny of the times; it was but the machinery of +tyranny. Now tyranny has come to an end, and we no longer +need such machinery; we could not possibly use it since we are +free. Therefore in your sense of the word we have no +government. Do you understand this now?</p> +<p>(I) Yes, I do. But I will ask you some more +questions as to how you as free men manage your affairs.</p> +<p>(H.) With all my heart. Ask away.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII: CONCERNING THE ARRANGEMENT OF LIFE</h2> +<p>“Well,” I said, “about those +‘arrangements’ which you spoke of as taking the place +of government, could you give me any account of them?”</p> +<p>“Neighbour,” he said, “although we have +simplified our lives a great deal from what they were, and have +got rid of many conventionalities and many sham wants, which used +to give our forefathers much trouble, yet our life is too complex +for me to tell you in detail by means of words how it is +arranged; you must find that out by living amongst us. It +is true that I can better tell you what we don’t do, than +what we do do.”</p> +<p>“Well?” said I.</p> +<p>“This is the way to put it,” said he: “We +have been living for a hundred and fifty years, at least, more or +less in our present manner, and a tradition or habit of life has +been growing on us; and that habit has become a habit of acting +on the whole for the best. It is easy for us to live +without robbing each other. It would be possible for us to +contend with and rob each other, but it would be harder for us +than refraining from strife and robbery. That is in short +the foundation of our life and our happiness.”</p> +<p>“Whereas in the old days,” said I, “it was +very hard to live without strife and robbery. That’s +what you mean, isn’t it, by giving me the negative side of +your good conditions?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said, “it was so hard, that those +who habitually acted fairly to their neighbours were celebrated +as saints and heroes, and were looked up to with the greatest +reverence.”</p> +<p>“While they were alive?” said I.</p> +<p>“No,” said he, “after they were +dead.”</p> +<p>“But as to these days,” I said; “you +don’t mean to tell me that no one ever transgresses this +habit of good fellowship?”</p> +<p>“Certainly not,” said Hammond, “but when the +transgressions occur, everybody, transgressors and all, know them +for what they are; the errors of friends, not the habitual +actions of persons driven into enmity against society.”</p> +<p>“I see,” said I; “you mean that you have no +‘criminal’ classes.”</p> +<p>“How could we have them,” said he, “since +there is no rich class to breed enemies against the state by +means of the injustice of the state?”</p> +<p>Said I: “I thought that I understood from something that +fell from you a little while ago that you had abolished civil +law. Is that so, literally?”</p> +<p>“It abolished itself, my friend,” said he. +“As I said before, the civil law-courts were upheld for the +defence of private property; for nobody ever pretended that it +was possible to make people act fairly to each other by means of +brute force. Well, private property being abolished, all +the laws and all the legal ‘crimes’ which it had +manufactured of course came to an end. Thou shalt not +steal, had to be translated into, Thou shalt work in order to +live happily. Is there any need to enforce that commandment +by violence?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “that is understood, and I +agree with it; but how about crimes of violence? would not their +occurrence (and you admit that they occur) make criminal law +necessary?”</p> +<p>Said he: “In your sense of the word, we have no criminal +law either. Let us look at the matter closer, and see +whence crimes of violence spring. By far the greater part +of these in past days were the result of the laws of private +property, which forbade the satisfaction of their natural desires +to all but a privileged few, and of the general visible coercion +which came of those laws. All that cause of violent crime +is gone. Again, many violent acts came from the artificial +perversion of the sexual passions, which caused overweening +jealousy and the like miseries. Now, when you look +carefully into these, you will find that what lay at the bottom +of them was mostly the idea (a law-made idea) of the woman being +the property of the man, whether he were husband, father, +brother, or what not. That idea has of course vanished with +private property, as well as certain follies about the +‘ruin’ of women for following their natural desires +in an illegal way, which of course was a convention caused by the +laws of private property.</p> +<p>“Another cognate cause of crimes of violence was the +family tyranny, which was the subject of so many novels and +stories of the past, and which once more was the result of +private property. Of course that is all ended, since +families are held together by no bond of coercion, legal or +social, but by mutual liking and affection, and everybody is free +to come or go as he or she pleases. Furthermore, our +standards of honour and public estimation are very different from +the old ones; success in besting our neighbours is a road to +renown now closed, let us hope for ever. Each man is free +to exercise his special faculty to the utmost, and every one +encourages him in so doing. So that we have got rid of the +scowling envy, coupled by the poets with hatred, and surely with +good reason; heaps of unhappiness and ill-blood were caused by +it, which with irritable and passionate men—<i>i.e.</i>, +energetic and active men—often led to violence.”</p> +<p>I laughed, and said: “So that you now withdraw your +admission, and say that there is no violence amongst +you?”</p> +<p>“No,” said he, “I withdraw nothing; as I +told you, such things will happen. Hot blood will err +sometimes. A man may strike another, and the stricken +strike back again, and the result be a homicide, to put it at the +worst. But what then? Shall we the neighbours make it +worse still? Shall we think so poorly of each other as to +suppose that the slain man calls on us to revenge him, when we +know that if he had been maimed, he would, when in cold blood and +able to weigh all the circumstances, have forgiven his +manner? Or will the death of the slayer bring the slain man +to life again and cure the unhappiness his loss has +caused?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” I said, “but consider, must not the +safety of society be safeguarded by some punishment?”</p> +<p>“There, neighbour!” said the old man, with some +exultation “You have hit the mark. That +<i>punishment</i> of which men used to talk so wisely and act so +foolishly, what was it but the expression of their fear? +And they had need to fear, since they—<i>i.e.</i>, the +rulers of society—were dwelling like an armed band in a +hostile country. But we who live amongst our friends need +neither fear nor punish. Surely if we, in dread of an +occasional rare homicide, an occasional rough blow, were solemnly +and legally to commit homicide and violence, we could only be a +society of ferocious cowards. Don’t you think so, +neighbour?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I do, when I come to think of it from that +side,” said I.</p> +<p>“Yet you must understand,” said the old man, +“that when any violence is committed, we expect the +transgressor to make any atonement possible to him, and he +himself expects it. But again, think if the destruction or +serious injury of a man momentarily overcome by wrath or folly +can be any atonement to the commonwealth? Surely it can +only be an additional injury to it.”</p> +<p>Said I: “But suppose the man has a habit of +violence,—kills a man a year, for instance?”</p> +<p>“Such a thing is unknown,” said he. +“In a society where there is no punishment to evade, no law +to triumph over, remorse will certainly follow +transgression.”</p> +<p>“And lesser outbreaks of violence,” said I, +“how do you deal with them? for hitherto we have been +talking of great tragedies, I suppose?”</p> +<p>Said Hammond: “If the ill-doer is not sick or mad (in +which case he must be restrained till his sickness or madness is +cured) it is clear that grief and humiliation must follow the +ill-deed; and society in general will make that pretty clear to +the ill-doer if he should chance to be dull to it; and again, +some kind of atonement will follow,—at the least, an open +acknowledgement of the grief and humiliation. Is it so hard +to say, I ask your pardon, neighbour?—Well, sometimes it is +hard—and let it be.”</p> +<p>“You think that enough?” said I.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he, “and moreover it is all that +we <i>can</i> do. If in addition we torture the man, we +turn his grief into anger, and the humiliation he would otherwise +feel for <i>his</i> wrong-doing is swallowed up by a hope of +revenge for <i>our</i> wrong-doing to him. He has paid the +legal penalty, and can ‘go and sin again’ with +comfort. Shall we commit such a folly, then? Remember +Jesus had got the legal penalty remitted before he said ‘Go +and sin no more.’ Let alone that in a society of +equals you will not find any one to play the part of torturer or +jailer, though many to act as nurse or doctor.”</p> +<p>“So,” said I, “you consider crime a mere +spasmodic disease, which requires no body of criminal law to deal +with it?”</p> +<p>“Pretty much so,” said he; “and since, as I +have told you, we are a healthy people generally, so we are not +likely to be much troubled with <i>this</i> disease.”</p> +<p>“Well, you have no civil law, and no criminal law. +But have you no laws of the market, so to say—no regulation +for the exchange of wares? for you must exchange, even if you +have no property.”</p> +<p>Said he: “We have no obvious individual exchange, as you +saw this morning when you went a-shopping; but of course there +are regulations of the markets, varying according to the +circumstances and guided by general custom. But as these +are matters of general assent, which nobody dreams of objecting +to, so also we have made no provision for enforcing them: +therefore I don’t call them laws. In law, whether it +be criminal or civil, execution always follows judgment, and +someone must suffer. When you see the judge on his bench, +you see through him, as clearly as if he were made of glass, the +policeman to emprison, and the soldier to slay some actual living +person. Such follies would make an agreeable market, +wouldn’t they?”</p> +<p>“Certainly,” said I, “that means turning the +market into a mere battle-field, in which many people must suffer +as much as in the battle-field of bullet and bayonet. And +from what I have seen I should suppose that your marketing, great +and little, is carried on in a way that makes it a pleasant +occupation.”</p> +<p>“You are right, neighbour,” said he. +“Although there are so many, indeed by far the greater +number amongst us, who would be unhappy if they were not engaged +in actually making things, and things which turn out beautiful +under their hands,—there are many, like the housekeepers I +was speaking of, whose delight is in administration and +organisation, to use long-tailed words; I mean people who like +keeping things together, avoiding waste, seeing that nothing +sticks fast uselessly. Such people are thoroughly happy in +their business, all the more as they are dealing with actual +facts, and not merely passing counters round to see what share +they shall have in the privileged taxation of useful people, +which was the business of the commercial folk in past days. +Well, what are you going to ask me next?”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII: CONCERNING POLITICS</h2> +<p>Said I: “How do you manage with politics?”</p> +<p>Said Hammond, smiling: “I am glad that it is of +<i>me</i> that you ask that question; I do believe that anybody +else would make you explain yourself, or try to do so, till you +were sickened of asking questions. Indeed, I believe I am +the only man in England who would know what you mean; and since I +know, I will answer your question briefly by saying that we are +very well off as to politics,—because we have none. +If ever you make a book out of this conversation, put this in a +chapter by itself, after the model of old Horrebow’s Snakes +in Iceland.”</p> +<p>“I will,” said I.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV: HOW MATTERS ARE MANAGED</h2> +<p>Said I: “How about your relations with foreign +nations?”</p> +<p>“I will not affect not to know what you mean,” +said he, “but I will tell you at once that the whole system +of rival and contending nations which played so great a part in +the ‘government’ of the world of civilisation has +disappeared along with the inequality betwixt man and man in +society.”</p> +<p>“Does not that make the world duller?” said I.</p> +<p>“Why?” said the old man.</p> +<p>“The obliteration of national variety,” said +I.</p> +<p>“Nonsense,” he said, somewhat snappishly. +“Cross the water and see. You will find plenty of +variety: the landscape, the building, the diet, the amusements, +all various. The men and women varying in looks as well as +in habits of thought; the costume far more various than in the +commercial period. How should it add to the variety or +dispel the dulness, to coerce certain families or tribes, often +heterogeneous and jarring with one another, into certain +artificial and mechanical groups, and call them nations, and +stimulate their patriotism—<i>i.e.</i>, their foolish and +envious prejudices?”</p> +<p>“Well—I don’t know how,” said I.</p> +<p>“That’s right,” said Hammond cheerily; +“you can easily understand that now we are freed from this +folly it is obvious to us that by means of this very diversity +the different strains of blood in the world can be serviceable +and pleasant to each other, without in the least wanting to rob +each other: we are all bent on the same enterprise, making the +most of our lives. And I must tell you whatever quarrels or +misunderstandings arise, they very seldom take place between +people of different race; and consequently since there is less +unreason in them, they are the more readily appeased.”</p> +<p>“Good,” said I, “but as to those matters of +politics; as to general differences of opinion in one and the +same community. Do you assert that there are +none?”</p> +<p>“No, not at all,” said he, somewhat snappishly; +“but I do say that differences of opinion about real solid +things need not, and with us do not, crystallise people into +parties permanently hostile to one another, with different +theories as to the build of the universe and the progress of +time. Isn’t that what politics used to +mean?”</p> +<p>“H’m, well,” said I, “I am not so sure +of that.”</p> +<p>Said he: “I take, you, neighbour; they only +<i>pretended</i> to this serious difference of opinion; for if it +had existed they could not have dealt together in the ordinary +business of life; couldn’t have eaten together, bought and +sold together, gambled together, cheated other people together, +but must have fought whenever they met: which would not have +suited them at all. The game of the masters of politics was +to cajole or force the public to pay the expense of a luxurious +life and exciting amusement for a few cliques of ambitious +persons: and the <i>pretence</i> of serious difference of +opinion, belied by every action of their lives, was quite good +enough for that. What has all that got to do with +us?”</p> +<p>Said I: “Why, nothing, I should hope. But I +fear—In short, I have been told that political strife was a +necessary result of human nature.”</p> +<p>“Human nature!” cried the old boy, impetuously; +“what human nature? The human nature of paupers, of +slaves, of slave-holders, or the human nature of wealthy +freemen? Which? Come, tell me that!”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “I suppose there would be a +difference according to circumstances in people’s action +about these matters.”</p> +<p>“I should think so, indeed,” said he. +“At all events, experience shows that it is so. +Amongst us, our differences concern matters of business, and +passing events as to them, and could not divide men +permanently. As a rule, the immediate outcome shows which +opinion on a given subject is the right one; it is a matter of +fact, not of speculation. For instance, it is clearly not +easy to knock up a political party on the question as to whether +haymaking in such and such a country-side shall begin this week +or next, when all men agree that it must at latest begin the week +after next, and when any man can go down into the fields himself +and see whether the seeds are ripe enough for the +cutting.”</p> +<p>Said I: “And you settle these differences, great and +small, by the will of the majority, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“Certainly,” said he; “how else could we +settle them? You see in matters which are merely personal +which do not affect the welfare of the community—how a man +shall dress, what he shall eat and drink, what he shall write and +read, and so forth—there can be no difference of opinion, +and everybody does as he pleases. But when the matter is of +common interest to the whole community, and the doing or not +doing something affects everybody, the majority must have their +way; unless the minority were to take up arms and show by force +that they were the effective or real majority; which, however, in +a society of men who are free and equal is little likely to +happen; because in such a community the apparent majority +<i>is</i> the real majority, and the others, as I have hinted +before, know that too well to obstruct from mere pigheadedness; +especially as they have had plenty of opportunity of putting +forward their side of the question.”</p> +<p>“How is that managed?” said I.</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “let us take one of our +units of management, a commune, or a ward, or a parish (for we +have all three names, indicating little real distinction between +them now, though time was there was a good deal). In such a +district, as you would call it, some neighbours think that +something ought to be done or undone: a new town-hall built; a +clearance of inconvenient houses; or say a stone bridge +substituted for some ugly old iron one,—there you have +undoing and doing in one. Well, at the next ordinary +meeting of the neighbours, or Mote, as we call it, according to +the ancient tongue of the times before bureaucracy, a neighbour +proposes the change, and of course, if everybody agrees, there is +an end of discussion, except about details. Equally, if no +one backs the proposer,—‘seconds him,’ it used +to be called—the matter drops for the time being; a thing +not likely to happen amongst reasonable men, however, as the +proposer is sure to have talked it over with others before the +Mote. But supposing the affair proposed and seconded, if a +few of the neighbours disagree to it, if they think that the +beastly iron bridge will serve a little longer and they +don’t want to be bothered with building a new one just +then, they don’t count heads that time, but put off the +formal discussion to the next Mote; and meantime arguments +<i>pro</i> and <i>con</i> are flying about, and some get printed, +so that everybody knows what is going on; and when the Mote comes +together again there is a regular discussion and at last a vote +by show of hands. If the division is a close one, the +question is again put off for further discussion; if the division +is a wide one, the minority are asked if they will yield to the +more general opinion, which they often, nay, most commonly +do. If they refuse, the question is debated a third time, +when, if the minority has not perceptibly grown, they always give +way; though I believe there is some half-forgotten rule by which +they might still carry it on further; but I say, what always +happens is that they are convinced, not perhaps that their view +is the wrong one, but they cannot persuade or force the community +to adopt it.”</p> +<p>“Very good,” said I; “but what happens if +the divisions are still narrow?”</p> +<p>Said he: “As a matter of principle and according to the +rule of such cases, the question must then lapse, and the +majority, if so narrow, has to submit to sitting down under the +<i>status quo</i>. But I must tell you that in point of +fact the minority very seldom enforces this rule, but generally +yields in a friendly manner.”</p> +<p>“But do you know,” said I, “that there is +something in all this very like democracy; and I thought that +democracy was considered to be in a moribund condition many, many +years ago.”</p> +<p>The old boy’s eyes twinkled. “I grant you +that our methods have that drawback. But what is to be +done? We can’t get <i>anyone</i> amongst us to +complain of his not always having his own way in the teeth of the +community, when it is clear that <i>everybody</i> cannot have +that indulgence. What is to be done?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “I don’t +know.”</p> +<p>Said he: “The only alternatives to our method that I can +conceive of are these. First, that we should choose out, or +breed, a class of superior persons capable of judging on all +matters without consulting the neighbours; that, in short, we +should get for ourselves what used to be called an aristocracy of +intellect; or, secondly, that for the purpose of safe-guarding +the freedom of the individual will, we should revert to a system +of private property again, and have slaves and slave-holders once +more. What do you think of those two expedients?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “there is a third +possibility—to wit, that every man should be quite +independent of every other, and that thus the tyranny of society +should be abolished.”</p> +<p>He looked hard at me for a second or two, and then burst out +laughing very heartily; and I confess that I joined him. +When he recovered himself he nodded at me, and said: “Yes, +yes, I quite agree with you—and so we all do.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” I said, “and besides, it does not +press hardly on the minority: for, take this matter of the +bridge, no man is obliged to work on it if he doesn’t agree +to its building. At least, I suppose not.”</p> +<p>He smiled, and said: “Shrewdly put; and yet from the +point of view of the native of another planet. If the man +of the minority does find his feelings hurt, doubtless he may +relieve them by refusing to help in building the bridge. +But, dear neighbour, that is not a very effective salve for the +wound caused by the ‘tyranny of a majority’ in our +society; because all work that is done is either beneficial or +hurtful to every member of society. The man is benefited by +the bridge-building if it turns out a good thing, and hurt by it +if it turns out a bad one, whether he puts a hand to it or not; +and meanwhile he is benefiting the bridge-builders by his work, +whatever that may be. In fact, I see no help for him except +the pleasure of saying ‘I told you so’ if the +bridge-building turns out to be a mistake and hurts him; if it +benefits him he must suffer in silence. A terrible tyranny +our Communism, is it not? Folk used often to be warned +against this very unhappiness in times past, when for every +well-fed, contented person you saw a thousand miserable +starvelings. Whereas for us, we grow fat and well-liking on +the tyranny; a tyranny, to say the truth, not to be made visible +by any microscope I know. Don’t be afraid, my friend; +we are not going to seek for troubles by calling our peace and +plenty and happiness by ill names whose very meaning we have +forgotten!”</p> +<p>He sat musing for a little, and then started and said: +“Are there any more questions, dear guest? The +morning is waning fast amidst my garrulity?”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV: ON THE LACK OF INCENTIVE TO LABOUR IN A COMMUNIST +SOCIETY</h2> +<p>“Yes,” said I. “I was expecting Dick +and Clara to make their appearance any moment: but is there time +to ask just one or two questions before they come?”</p> +<p>“Try it, dear neighbour—try it,” said old +Hammond. “For the more you ask me the better I am +pleased; and at any rate if they do come and find me in the +middle of an answer, they must sit quiet and pretend to listen +till I come to an end. It won’t hurt them; they will +find it quite amusing enough to sit side by side, conscious of +their proximity to each other.”</p> +<p>I smiled, as I was bound to, and said: “Good; I will go +on talking without noticing them when they come in. Now, +this is what I want to ask you about—to wit, how you get +people to work when there is no reward of labour, and especially +how you get them to work strenuously?”</p> +<p>“No reward of labour?” said Hammond, +gravely. “The reward of labour is <i>life</i>. +Is that not enough?”</p> +<p>“But no reward for especially good work,” quoth +I.</p> +<p>“Plenty of reward,” said he—“the +reward of creation. The wages which God gets, as people +might have said time agone. If you are going to ask to be +paid for the pleasure of creation, which is what excellence in +work means, the next thing we shall hear of will be a bill sent +in for the begetting of children.”</p> +<p>“Well, but,” said I, “the man of the +nineteenth century would say there is a natural desire towards +the procreation of children, and a natural desire not to +work.”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” said he, “I know the ancient +platitude,—wholly untrue; indeed, to us quite +meaningless. Fourier, whom all men laughed at, understood +the matter better.”</p> +<p>“Why is it meaningless to you?” said I.</p> +<p>He said: “Because it implies that all work is suffering, +and we are so far from thinking that, that, as you may have +noticed, whereas we are not short of wealth, there is a kind of +fear growing up amongst us that we shall one day be short of +work. It is a pleasure which we are afraid of losing, not a +pain.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “I have noticed that, and I +was going to ask you about that also. But in the meantime, +what do you positively mean to assert about the pleasurableness +of work amongst you?”</p> +<p>“This, that <i>all</i> work is now pleasurable; either +because of the hope of gain in honour and wealth with which the +work is done, which causes pleasurable excitement, even when the +actual work is not pleasant; or else because it has grown into a +pleasurable <i>habit</i>, as in the case with what you may call +mechanical work; and lastly (and most of our work is of this +kind) because there is conscious sensuous pleasure in the work +itself; it is done, that is, by artists.”</p> +<p>“I see,” said I. “Can you now tell me +how you have come to this happy condition? For, to speak +plainly, this change from the conditions of the older world seems +to me far greater and more important than all the other changes +you have told me about as to crime, politics, property, +marriage.”</p> +<p>“You are right there,” said he. +“Indeed, you may say rather that it is this change which +makes all the others possible. What is the object of +Revolution? Surely to make people happy. Revolution +having brought its foredoomed change about, how can you prevent +the counter-revolution from setting in except by making people +happy? What! shall we expect peace and stability from +unhappiness? The gathering of grapes from thorns and figs +from thistles is a reasonable expectation compared with +that! And happiness without happy daily work is +impossible.”</p> +<p>“Most obviously true,” said I: for I thought the +old boy was preaching a little. “But answer my +question, as to how you gained this happiness.”</p> +<p>“Briefly,” said he, “by the absence of +artificial coercion, and the freedom for every man to do what he +can do best, joined to the knowledge of what productions of +labour we really wanted. I must admit that this knowledge +we reached slowly and painfully.”</p> +<p>“Go on,” said I, “give me more detail; +explain more fully. For this subject interests me +intensely.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I will,” said he; “but in order to do +so I must weary you by talking a little about the past. +Contrast is necessary for this explanation. Do you +mind?”</p> +<p>“No, no,” said I.</p> +<p>Said he, settling himself in his chair again for a long talk: +“It is clear from all that we hear and read, that in the +last age of civilisation men had got into a vicious circle in the +matter of production of wares. They had reached a wonderful +facility of production, and in order to make the most of that +facility they had gradually created (or allowed to grow, rather) +a most elaborate system of buying and selling, which has been +called the World-Market; and that World-Market, once set a-going, +forced them to go on making more and more of these wares, whether +they needed them or not. So that while (of course) they +could not free themselves from the toil of making real +necessaries, they created in a never-ending series sham or +artificial necessaries, which became, under the iron rule of the +aforesaid World-Market, of equal importance to them with the real +necessaries which supported life. By all this they burdened +themselves with a prodigious mass of work merely for the sake of +keeping their wretched system going.”</p> +<p>“Yes—and then?” said I.</p> +<p>“Why, then, since they had forced themselves to stagger +along under this horrible burden of unnecessary production, it +became impossible for them to look upon labour and its results +from any other point of view than one—to wit, the ceaseless +endeavour to expend the least possible amount of labour on any +article made, and yet at the same time to make as many articles +as possible. To this ‘cheapening of +production’, as it was called, everything was sacrificed: +the happiness of the workman at his work, nay, his most +elementary comfort and bare health, his food, his clothes, his +dwelling, his leisure, his amusement, his education—his +life, in short—did not weigh a grain of sand in the balance +against this dire necessity of ‘cheap production’ of +things, a great part of which were not worth producing at +all. Nay, we are told, and we must believe it, so +overwhelming is the evidence, though many of our people scarcely +<i>can</i> believe it, that even rich and powerful men, the +masters of the poor devils aforesaid, submitted to live amidst +sights and sounds and smells which it is in the very nature of +man to abhor and flee from, in order that their riches might +bolster up this supreme folly. The whole community, in +fact, was cast into the jaws of this ravening monster, ‘the +cheap production’ forced upon it by the +World-Market.”</p> +<p>“Dear me!” said I. “But what +happened? Did not their cleverness and facility in +production master this chaos of misery at last? +Couldn’t they catch up with the World-Market, and then set +to work to devise means for relieving themselves from this +fearful task of extra labour?”</p> +<p>He smiled bitterly. “Did they even try to?” +said he. “I am not sure. You know that +according to the old saw the beetle gets used to living in dung; +and these people, whether they found the dung sweet or not, +certainly lived in it.”</p> +<p>His estimate of the life of the nineteenth century made me +catch my breath a little; and I said feebly, “But the +labour-saving machines?”</p> +<p>“Heyday!” quoth he. “What’s that +you are saying? the labour-saving machines? Yes, they were +made to ‘save labour’ (or, to speak more plainly, the +lives of men) on one piece of work in order that it might be +expended—I will say wasted—on another, probably +useless, piece of work. Friend, all their devices for +cheapening labour simply resulted in increasing the burden of +labour. The appetite of the World-Market grew with what it +fed on: the countries within the ring of +‘civilisation’ (that is, organised misery) were +glutted with the abortions of the market, and force and fraud +were used unsparingly to ‘open up’ countries +<i>outside</i> that pale. This process of ‘opening +up’ is a strange one to those who have read the professions +of the men of that period and do not understand their practice; +and perhaps shows us at its worst the great vice of the +nineteenth century, the use of hypocrisy and cant to evade the +responsibility of vicarious ferocity. When the civilised +World-Market coveted a country not yet in its clutches, some +transparent pretext was found—the suppression of a slavery +different from and not so cruel as that of commerce; the pushing +of a religion no longer believed in by its promoters; the +‘rescue’ of some desperado or homicidal madman whose +misdeeds had got him into trouble amongst the natives of the +‘barbarous’ country—any stick, in short, which +would beat the dog at all. Then some bold, unprincipled, +ignorant adventurer was found (no difficult task in the days of +competition), and he was bribed to ‘create a market’ +by breaking up whatever traditional society there might be in the +doomed country, and by destroying whatever leisure or pleasure he +found there. He forced wares on the natives which they did +not want, and took their natural products in +‘exchange,’ as this form of robbery was called, and +thereby he ‘created new wants,’ to supply which (that +is, to be allowed to live by their new masters) the hapless, +helpless people had to sell themselves into the slavery of +hopeless toil so that they might have something wherewith to +purchase the nullities of ‘civilisation.’ + +"Ah," said the old man, pointing to the Museum, "I have read books and +papers in there, telling strange stories indeed of the dealings of +civilisation (or organised misery) with 'non-civilisation'; from the time +when the British +Government deliberately sent blankets infected with small-pox as +choice gifts to inconvenient tribes of Red-skins, to the time +when Africa was infested by a man named Stanley, +who—”</p> +<p>“Excuse me,” said I, “but as you know, time +presses; and I want to keep our question on the straightest line +possible; and I want at once to ask this about these wares made +for the World-Market—how about their quality; these people +who were so clever about making goods, I suppose they made them +well?”</p> +<p>“Quality!” said the old man crustily, for he was +rather peevish at being cut short in his story; “how could +they possibly attend to such trifles as the quality of the wares +they sold? The best of them were of a lowish average, the +worst were transparent make-shifts for the things asked for, +which nobody would have put up with if they could have got +anything else. It was a current jest of the time that the +wares were made to sell and not to use; a jest which you, as +coming from another planet, may understand, but which our folk +could not.”</p> +<p>Said I: “What! did they make nothing well?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes,” said he, “there was one class of +goods which they did make thoroughly well, and that was the class +of machines which were used for making things. These were +usually quite perfect pieces of workmanship, admirably adapted to +the end in view. So that it may be fairly said that the +great achievement of the nineteenth century was the making of +machines which were wonders of invention, skill, and patience, +and which were used for the production of measureless quantities +of worthless make-shifts. In truth, the owners of the +machines did not consider anything which they made as wares, but +simply as means for the enrichment of themselves. Of course +the only admitted test of utility in wares was the finding of +buyers for them—wise men or fools, as it might +chance.”</p> +<p>“And people put up with this?” said I.</p> +<p>“For a time,” said he.</p> +<p>“And then?”</p> +<p>“And then the overturn,” said the old man, +smiling, “and the nineteenth century saw itself as a man +who has lost his clothes whilst bathing, and has to walk naked +through the town.”</p> +<p>“You are very bitter about that unlucky nineteenth +century,” said I.</p> +<p>“Naturally,” said he, “since I know so much +about it.”</p> +<p>He was silent a little, and then said: “There are +traditions—nay, real histories—in our family about +it: my grandfather was one of its victims. If you know +something about it, you will understand what he suffered when I +tell you that he was in those days a genuine artist, a man of +genius, and a revolutionist.”</p> +<p>“I think I do understand,” said I: “but now, +as it seems, you have reversed all this?”</p> +<p>“Pretty much so,” said he. “The wares +which we make are made because they are needed: men make for +their neighbours’ use as if they were making for +themselves, not for a vague market of which they know nothing, +and over which they have no control: as there is no buying and +selling, it would be mere insanity to make goods on the chance of +their being wanted; for there is no longer anyone who can be +compelled to buy them. So that whatever is made is good, +and thoroughly fit for its purpose. Nothing can be made +except for genuine use; therefore no inferior goods are +made. Moreover, as aforesaid, we have now found out what we +want, so we make no more than we want; and as we are not driven +to make a vast quantity of useless things we have time and +resources enough to consider our pleasure in making them. +All work which would be irksome to do by hand is done by +immensely improved machinery; and in all work which it is a +pleasure to do by hand machinery is done without. There is +no difficulty in finding work which suits the special turn of +mind of everybody; so that no man is sacrificed to the wants of +another. From time to time, when we have found out that +some piece of work was too disagreeable or troublesome, we have +given it up and done altogether without the thing produced by +it. Now, surely you can see that under these circumstances +all the work that we do is an exercise of the mind and body more +or less pleasant to be done: so that instead of avoiding work +everybody seeks it: and, since people have got defter in doing +the work generation after generation, it has become so easy to +do, that it seems as if there were less done, though probably +more is produced. I suppose this explains that fear, which +I hinted at just now, of a possible scarcity in work, which +perhaps you have already noticed, and which is a feeling on the +increase, and has been for a score of years.”</p> +<p>“But do you think,” said I, “that there is +any fear of a work-famine amongst you?”</p> +<p>“No, I do not,” said he, “and I will tell +why; it is each man’s business to make his own work +pleasanter and pleasanter, which of course tends towards raising +the standard of excellence, as no man enjoys turning out work +which is not a credit to him, and also to greater deliberation in +turning it out; and there is such a vast number of things which +can be treated as works of art, that this alone gives employment +to a host of deft people. Again, if art be inexhaustible, +so is science also; and though it is no longer the only innocent +occupation which is thought worth an intelligent man spending his +time upon, as it once was, yet there are, and I suppose will be, +many people who are excited by its conquest of difficulties, and +care for it more than for anything else. Again, as more and +more of pleasure is imported into work, I think we shall take up +kinds of work which produce desirable wares, but which we gave up +because we could not carry them on pleasantly. Moreover, I +think that it is only in parts of Europe which are more advanced +than the rest of the world that you will hear this talk of the +fear of a work-famine. Those lands which were once the +colonies of Great Britain, for instance, and especially +America—that part of it, above all, which was once the +United states—are now and will be for a long while a great +resource to us. For these lands, and, I say, especially the +northern parts of America, suffered so terribly from the full +force of the last days of civilisation, and became such horrible +places to live in, that they are now very backward in all that +makes life pleasant. Indeed, one may say that for nearly a +hundred years the people of the northern parts of America have +been engaged in gradually making a dwelling-place out of a +stinking dust-heap; and there is still a great deal to do, +especially as the country is so big.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “I am exceedingly glad to +think that you have such a prospect of happiness before +you. But I should like to ask a few more questions, and +then I have done for to-day.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI: DINNER IN THE HALL OF THE BLOOMSBURY MARKET</h2> +<p>As I spoke, I heard footsteps near the door; the latch +yielded, and in came our two lovers, looking so handsome that one +had no feeling of shame in looking on at their little-concealed +love-making; for indeed it seemed as if all the world must be in +love with them. As for old Hammond, he looked on them like +an artist who has just painted a picture nearly as well as he +thought he could when he began it, and was perfectly happy. +He said:</p> +<p>“Sit down, sit down, young folk, and don’t make a +noise. Our guest here has still some questions to ask +me.”</p> +<p>“Well, I should suppose so,” said Dick; “you +have only been three hours and a half together; and it +isn’t to be hoped that the history of two centuries could +be told in three hours and a half: let alone that, for all I +know, you may have been wandering into the realms of geography +and craftsmanship.”</p> +<p>“As to noise, my dear kinsman,” said Clara, +“you will very soon be disturbed by the noise of the +dinner-bell, which I should think will be very pleasant music to +our guest, who breakfasted early, it seems, and probably had a +tiring day yesterday.”</p> +<p>I said: “Well, since you have spoken the word, I begin +to feel that it is so; but I have been feeding myself with wonder +this long time past: really, it’s quite true,” quoth +I, as I saw her smile, O so prettily! But just then from +some tower high up in the air came the sound of silvery chimes +playing a sweet clear tune, that sounded to my unaccustomed ears +like the song of the first blackbird in the spring, and called a +rush of memories to my mind, some of bad times, some of good, but +all sweetened now into mere pleasure.</p> +<p>“No more questions now before dinner,” said Clara; +and she took my hand as an affectionate child would, and led me +out of the room and down stairs into the forecourt of the Museum, +leaving the two Hammonds to follow as they pleased.</p> +<p>We went into the market-place which I had been in before, a +thinnish stream of elegantly <a name="citation1"></a><a +href="#footnote1" class="citation">[1]</a> dressed people going +in along with us. We turned into the cloister and came to a +richly moulded and carved doorway, where a very pretty +dark-haired young girl gave us each a beautiful bunch of summer +flowers, and we entered a hall much bigger than that of the +Hammersmith Guest House, more elaborate in its architecture and +perhaps more beautiful. I found it difficult to keep my +eyes off the wall-pictures (for I thought it bad manners to stare +at Clara all the time, though she was quite worth it). I +saw at a glance that their subjects were taken from queer +old-world myths and imaginations which in yesterday’s world +only about half a dozen people in the country knew anything +about; and when the two Hammonds sat down opposite to us, I said +to the old man, pointing to the frieze:</p> +<p>“How strange to see such subjects here!”</p> +<p>“Why?” said he. “I don’t see why +you should be surprised; everybody knows the tales; and they are +graceful and pleasant subjects, not too tragic for a place where +people mostly eat and drink and amuse themselves, and yet full of +incident.”</p> +<p>I smiled, and said: “Well, I scarcely expected to find +record of the Seven Swans and the King of the Golden Mountain and +Faithful Henry, and such curious pleasant imaginations as Jacob +Grimm got together from the childhood of the world, barely +lingering even in his time: I should have thought you would have +forgotten such childishness by this time.”</p> +<p>The old man smiled, and said nothing; but Dick turned rather +red, and broke out:</p> +<p>“What <i>do</i> you mean, guest? I think them very +beautiful, I mean not only the pictures, but the stories; and +when we were children we used to imagine them going on in every +wood-end, by the bight of every stream: every house in the fields +was the Fairyland King’s House to us. Don’t you +remember, Clara?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” she said; and it seemed to me as if a +slight cloud came over her fair face. I was going to speak +to her on the subject, when the pretty waitresses came to us +smiling, and chattering sweetly like reed warblers by the river +side, and fell to giving us our dinner. As to this, as at +our breakfast, everything was cooked and served with a daintiness +which showed that those who had prepared it were interested in +it; but there was no excess either of quantity or of gourmandise; +everything was simple, though so excellent of its kind; and it +was made clear to us that this was no feast, only an ordinary +meal. The glass, crockery, and plate were very beautiful to +my eyes, used to the study of mediæval art; but a +nineteenth-century club-haunter would, I daresay, have found them +rough and lacking in finish; the crockery being lead-glazed +pot-ware, though beautifully ornamented; the only porcelain being +here and there a piece of old oriental ware. The glass, +again, though elegant and quaint, and very varied in form, was +somewhat bubbled and hornier in texture than the commercial +articles of the nineteenth century. The furniture and +general fittings of the hall were much of a piece with the +table-gear, beautiful in form and highly ornamented, but without +the commercial “finish” of the joiners and +cabinet-makers of our time. Withal, there was a total +absence of what the nineteenth century calls +“comfort”—that is, stuffy inconvenience; so +that, even apart from the delightful excitement of the day, I had +never eaten my dinner so pleasantly before.</p> +<p>When we had done eating, and were sitting a little while, with +a bottle of very good Bordeaux wine before us, Clara came back to +the question of the subject-matter of the pictures, as though it +had troubled her.</p> +<p>She looked up at them, and said: “How is it that though +we are so interested with our life for the most part, yet when +people take to writing poems or painting pictures they seldom +deal with our modern life, or if they do, take good care to make +their poems or pictures unlike that life? Are we not good +enough to paint ourselves? How is it that we find the +dreadful times of the past so interesting to us—in pictures +and poetry?”</p> +<p>Old Hammond smiled. “It always was so, and I +suppose always will be,” said he, “however it may be +explained. It is true that in the nineteenth century, when +there was so little art and so much talk about it, there was a +theory that art and imaginative literature ought to deal with +contemporary life; but they never did so; for, if there was any +pretence of it, the author always took care (as Clara hinted just +now) to disguise, or exaggerate, or idealise, and in some way or +another make it strange; so that, for all the verisimilitude +there was, he might just as well have dealt with the times of the +Pharaohs.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Dick, “surely it is but natural +to like these things strange; just as when we were children, as I +said just now, we used to pretend to be so-and-so in +such-and-such a place. That’s what these pictures and +poems do; and why shouldn’t they?”</p> +<p>“Thou hast hit it, Dick,” quoth old Hammond; +“it is the child-like part of us that produces works of +imagination. When we are children time passes so slow with +us that we seem to have time for everything.”</p> +<p>He sighed, and then smiled and said: “At least let us +rejoice that we have got back our childhood again. I drink +to the days that are!”</p> +<p>“Second childhood,” said I in a low voice, and +then blushed at my double rudeness, and hoped that he +hadn’t heard. But he had, and turned to me smiling, +and said: “Yes, why not? And for my part, I hope it +may last long; and that the world’s next period of wise and +unhappy manhood, if that should happen, will speedily lead us to +a third childhood: if indeed this age be not our third. +Meantime, my friend, you must know that we are too happy, both +individually and collectively, to trouble ourselves about what is +to come hereafter.”</p> +<p>“Well, for my part,” said Clara, “I wish we +were interesting enough to be written or painted +about.”</p> +<p>Dick answered her with some lover’s speech, impossible +to be written down, and then we sat quiet a little.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII: HOW THE CHANGE CAME</h2> +<p>Dick broke the silence at last, saying: “Guest, forgive +us for a little after-dinner dulness. What would you like +to do? Shall we have out Greylocks and trot back to +Hammersmith? or will you come with us and hear some Welsh folk +sing in a hall close by here? or would you like presently to come +with me into the City and see some really fine building? +or—what shall it be?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “as I am a stranger, I must +let you choose for me.”</p> +<p>In point of fact, I did not by any means want to be +‘amused’ just then; and also I rather felt as if the +old man, with his knowledge of past times, and even a kind of +inverted sympathy for them caused by his active hatred of them, +was as it were a blanket for me against the cold of this very new +world, where I was, so to say, stripped bare of every habitual +thought and way of acting; and I did not want to leave him too +soon. He came to my rescue at once, and said—</p> +<p>“Wait a bit, Dick; there is someone else to be consulted +besides you and the guest here, and that is I. I am not +going to lose the pleasure of his company just now, especially as +I know he has something else to ask me. So go to your +Welshmen, by all means; but first of all bring us another bottle +of wine to this nook, and then be off as soon as you like; and +come again and fetch our friend to go westward, but not too +soon.”</p> +<p>Dick nodded smilingly, and the old man and I were soon alone +in the great hall, the afternoon sun gleaming on the red wine in +our tall quaint-shaped glasses. Then said Hammond:</p> +<p>“Does anything especially puzzle you about our way of +living, now you have heard a good deal and seen a little of +it?”</p> +<p>Said I: “I think what puzzles me most is how it all came +about.”</p> +<p>“It well may,” said he, “so great as the +change is. It would be difficult indeed to tell you the +whole story, perhaps impossible: knowledge, discontent, +treachery, disappointment, ruin, misery, despair—those who +worked for the change because they could see further than other +people went through all these phases of suffering; and doubtless +all the time the most of men looked on, not knowing what was +doing, thinking it all a matter of course, like the rising and +setting of the sun—and indeed it was so.”</p> +<p>“Tell me one thing, if you can,” said I. +“Did the change, the ‘revolution’ it used to be +called, come peacefully?”</p> +<p>“Peacefully?” said he; “what peace was there +amongst those poor confused wretches of the nineteenth +century? It was war from beginning to end: bitter war, till +hope and pleasure put an end to it.”</p> +<p>“Do you mean actual fighting with weapons?” said +I, “or the strikes and lock-outs and starvation of which we +have heard?”</p> +<p>“Both, both,” he said. “As a matter of +fact, the history of the terrible period of transition from +commercial slavery to freedom may thus be summarised. When +the hope of realising a communal condition of life for all men +arose, quite late in the nineteenth century, the power of the +middle classes, the then tyrants of society, was so enormous and +crushing, that to almost all men, even those who had, you may say +despite themselves, despite their reason and judgment, conceived +such hopes, it seemed a dream. So much was this the case +that some of those more enlightened men who were then called +Socialists, although they well knew, and even stated in public, +that the only reasonable condition of Society was that of pure +Communism (such as you now see around you), yet shrunk from what +seemed to them the barren task of preaching the realisation of a +happy dream. Looking back now, we can see that the great +motive-power of the change was a longing for freedom and +equality, akin if you please to the unreasonable passion of the +lover; a sickness of heart that rejected with loathing the +aimless solitary life of the well-to-do educated man of that +time: phrases, my dear friend, which have lost their meaning to +us of the present day; so far removed we are from the dreadful +facts which they represent.</p> +<p>“Well, these men, though conscious of this feeling, had +no faith in it, as a means of bringing about the change. +Nor was that wonderful: for looking around them they saw the huge +mass of the oppressed classes too much burdened with the misery +of their lives, and too much overwhelmed by the selfishness of +misery, to be able to form a conception of any escape from it +except by the ordinary way prescribed by the system of slavery +under which they lived; which was nothing more than a remote +chance of climbing out of the oppressed into the oppressing +class.</p> +<p>“Therefore, though they knew that the only reasonable +aim for those who would better the world was a condition of +equality; in their impatience and despair they managed to +convince themselves that if they could by hook or by crook get +the machinery of production and the management of property so +altered that the ‘lower classes’ (so the horrible +word ran) might have their slavery somewhat ameliorated, they +would be ready to fit into this machinery, and would use it for +bettering their condition still more and still more, until at +last the result would be a practical equality (they were very +fond of using the word ‘practical’), because +‘the rich’ would be forced to pay so much for keeping +‘the poor’ in a tolerable condition that the +condition of riches would become no longer valuable and would +gradually die out. Do you follow me?”</p> +<p>“Partly,” said I. “Go on.”</p> +<p>Said old Hammond: “Well, since you follow me, you will +see that as a theory this was not altogether unreasonable; but +‘practically,’ it turned out a failure.”</p> +<p>“How so?” said I.</p> +<p>“Well, don’t you see,” said he, +“because it involved the making of a machinery by those who +didn’t know what they wanted the machines to do. So +far as the masses of the oppressed class furthered this scheme of +improvement, they did it to get themselves improved +slave-rations—as many of them as could. And if those +classes had really been incapable of being touched by that +instinct which produced the passion for freedom and equality +aforesaid, what would have happened, I think, would have been +this: that a certain part of the working classes would have been +so far improved in condition that they would have approached the +condition of the middling rich men; but below them would have +been a great class of most miserable slaves, whose slavery would +have been far more hopeless than the older class-slavery had +been.”</p> +<p>“What stood in the way of this?” said I.</p> +<p>“Why, of course,” said he, “just that +instinct for freedom aforesaid. It is true that the +slave-class could not conceive the happiness of a free +life. Yet they grew to understand (and very speedily too) +that they were oppressed by their masters, and they assumed, you +see how justly, that they could do without them, though perhaps +they scarce knew how; so that it came to this, that though they +could not look forward to the happiness or peace of the freeman, +they did at least look forward to the war which a vague hope told +them would bring that peace about.”</p> +<p>“Could you tell me rather more closely what actually +took place?” said I; for I thought <i>him</i> rather vague +here.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said, “I can. That machinery +of life for the use of people who didn’t know what they +wanted of it, and which was known at the time as State Socialism, +was partly put in motion, though in a very piecemeal way. +But it did not work smoothly; it was, of course, resisted at +every turn by the capitalists; and no wonder, for it tended more +and more to upset the commercial system I have told you of; +without providing anything really effective in its place. +The result was growing confusion, great suffering amongst the +working classes, and, as a consequence, great discontent. +For a long time matters went on like this. The power of the +upper classes had lessened, as their command over wealth +lessened, and they could not carry things wholly by the high hand +as they had been used to in earlier days. So far the State +Socialists were justified by the result. On the other hand, +the working classes were ill-organised, and growing poorer in +reality, in spite of the gains (also real in the long run) which +they had forced from the masters. Thus matters hung in the +balance; the masters could not reduce their slaves to complete +subjection, though they put down some feeble and partial riots +easily enough. The workers forced their masters to grant +them ameliorations, real or imaginary, of their condition, but +could not force freedom from them. At last came a great +crash. To explain this you must understand that very great +progress had been made amongst the workers, though as before said +but little in the direction of improved livelihood.”</p> +<p>I played the innocent and said: “In what direction could +they improve, if not in livelihood?”</p> +<p>Said he: “In the power to bring about a state of things +in which livelihood would be full, and easy to gain. They +had at last learned how to combine after a long period of +mistakes and disasters. The workmen had now a regular +organization in the struggle against their masters, a struggle +which for more than half a century had been accepted as an +inevitable part of the conditions of the modern system of labour +and production. This combination had now taken the form of +a federation of all or almost all the recognised wage-paid +employments, and it was by its means that those betterments of +the conditions of the workmen had been forced from the masters: +and though they were not seldom mixed up with the rioting that +happened, especially in the earlier days of their organization, +it by no means formed an essential part of their tactics; indeed +at the time I am now speaking of they had got to be so strong +that most commonly the mere threat of a ‘strike’ was +enough to gain any minor point: because they had given up the +foolish tactics of the ancient trades unions of calling out of +work a part only of the workers of such and such an industry, and +supporting them while out of work on the labour of those that +remained in. By this time they had a biggish fund of money +for the support of strikes, and could stop a certain industry +altogether for a time if they so determined.”</p> +<p>Said I: “Was there not a serious danger of such moneys +being misused—of jobbery, in fact?”</p> +<p>Old Hammond wriggled uneasily on his seat, and said:</p> +<p>“Though all this happened so long ago, I still feel the +pain of mere shame when I have to tell you that it was more than +a danger: that such rascality often happened; indeed more than +once the whole combination seemed dropping to pieces because of +it: but at the time of which I am telling, things looked so +threatening, and to the workmen at least the necessity of their +dealing with the fast-gathering trouble which the labour-struggle +had brought about, was so clear, that the conditions of the times +had begot a deep seriousness amongst all reasonable people; a +determination which put aside all non-essentials, and which to +thinking men was ominous of the swiftly-approaching change: such +an element was too dangerous for mere traitors and self-seekers, +and one by one they were thrust out and mostly joined the +declared reactionaries.”</p> +<p>“How about those ameliorations,” said I; +“what were they? or rather of what nature?”</p> +<p>Said he: “Some of them, and these of the most practical +importance to the mens’ livelihood, were yielded by the +masters by direct compulsion on the part of the men; the new +conditions of labour so gained were indeed only customary, +enforced by no law: but, once established, the masters durst not +attempt to withdraw them in face of the growing power of the +combined workers. Some again were steps on the path of +‘State Socialism’; the most important of which can be +speedily summed up. At the end of the nineteenth century +the cry arose for compelling the masters to employ their men a +less number of hours in the day: this cry gathered volume +quickly, and the masters had to yield to it. But it was, of +course, clear that unless this meant a higher price for work per +hour, it would be a mere nullity, and that the masters, unless +forced, would reduce it to that. Therefore after a long +struggle another law was passed fixing a minimum price for labour +in the most important industries; which again had to be +supplemented by a law fixing the maximum price on the chief wares +then considered necessary for a workman’s life.”</p> +<p>“You were getting perilously near to the late Roman +poor-rates,” said I, smiling, “and the doling out of +bread to the proletariat.”</p> +<p>“So many said at the time,” said the old man +drily; “and it has long been a commonplace that that slough +awaits State Socialism in the end, if it gets to the end, which +as you know it did not with us. However it went further +than this minimum and maximum business, which by the by we can +now see was necessary. The government now found it +imperative on them to meet the outcry of the master class at the +approaching destruction of Commerce (as desirable, had they known +it, as the extinction of the cholera, which has since happily +taken place). And they were forced to meet it by a measure +hostile to the masters, the establishment of government factories +for the production of necessary wares, and markets for their +sale. These measures taken altogether did do something: +they were in fact of the nature of regulations made by the +commander of a beleaguered city. But of course to the +privileged classes it seemed as if the end of the world were come +when such laws were enacted.</p> +<p>“Nor was that altogether without a warrant: the spread +of communistic theories, and the partial practice of State +Socialism had at first disturbed, and at last almost paralysed +the marvellous system of commerce under which the old world had +lived so feverishly, and had produced for some few a life of +gambler’s pleasure, and for many, or most, a life of mere +misery: over and over again came ‘bad times’ as they +were called, and indeed they were bad enough for the +wage-slaves. The year 1952 was one of the worst of these +times; the workmen suffered dreadfully: the partial, inefficient +government factories, which were terribly jobbed, all but broke +down, and a vast part of the population had for the time being to +be fed on undisguised “charity” as it was called.</p> +<p>“The Combined Workers watched the situation with mingled +hope and anxiety. They had already formulated their general +demands; but now by a solemn and universal vote of the whole of +their federated societies, they insisted on the first step being +taken toward carrying out their demands: this step would have led +directly to handing over the management of the whole natural +resources of the country, together with the machinery for using +them into the power of the Combined Workers, and the reduction of +the privileged classes into the position of pensioners obviously +dependent on the pleasure of the workers. The +‘Resolution,’ as it was called, which was widely +published in the newspapers of the day, was in fact a declaration +of war, and was so accepted by the master class. They began +henceforward to prepare for a firm stand against the +‘brutal and ferocious communism of the day,’ as they +phrased it. And as they were in many ways still very +powerful, or seemed so to be; they still hoped by means of brute +force to regain some of what they had lost, and perhaps in the +end the whole of it. It was said amongst them on all hands +that it had been a great mistake of the various governments not +to have resisted sooner; and the liberals and radicals (the name +as perhaps you may know of the more democratically inclined part +of the ruling classes) were much blamed for having led the world +to this pass by their mis-timed pedantry and foolish +sentimentality: and one Gladstone, or Gledstein (probably, +judging by this name, of Scandinavian descent), a notable +politician of the nineteenth century, was especially singled out +for reprobation in this respect. I need scarcely point out +to you the absurdity of all this. But terrible tragedy lay +hidden behind this grinning through a horse-collar of the +reactionary party. ‘The insatiable greed of the lower +classes must be repressed’—‘The people must be +taught a lesson’—these were the sacramental phrases +current amongst the reactionists, and ominous enough they +were.”</p> +<p>The old man stopped to look keenly at my attentive and +wondering face; and then said:</p> +<p>“I know, dear guest, that I have been using words and +phrases which few people amongst us could understand without long +and laborious explanation; and not even then perhaps. But +since you have not yet gone to sleep, and since I am speaking to +you as to a being from another planet, I may venture to ask you +if you have followed me thus far?”</p> +<p>“O yes,” said I, “I quite understand: pray +go on; a great deal of what you have been saying was common place +with us—when—when—”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he gravely, “when you were +dwelling in the other planet. Well, now for the crash +aforesaid.</p> +<p>“On some comparatively trifling occasion a great meeting +was summoned by the workmen leaders to meet in Trafalgar Square +(about the right to meet in which place there had for years and +years been bickering). The civic bourgeois guard (called +the police) attacked the said meeting with bludgeons, according +to their custom; many people were hurt in the +<i>mélée</i>, of whom five in all died, either +trampled to death on the spot, or from the effects of their +cudgelling; the meeting was scattered, and some hundred of +prisoners cast into gaol. A similar meeting had been +treated in the same way a few days before at a place called +Manchester, which has now disappeared. Thus the +‘lesson’ began. The whole country was thrown +into a ferment by this; meetings were held which attempted some +rough organisation for the holding of another meeting to retort +on the authorities. A huge crowd assembled in Trafalgar +Square and the neighbourhood (then a place of crowded streets), +and was too big for the bludgeon-armed police to cope with; there +was a good deal of dry-blow fighting; three or four of the people +were killed, and half a score of policemen were crushed to death +in the throng, and the rest got away as they could. This +was a victory for the people as far as it went. The next +day all London (remember what it was in those days) was in a +state of turmoil. Many of the rich fled into the country; +the executive got together soldiery, but did not dare to use +them; and the police could not be massed in any one place, +because riots or threats of riots were everywhere. But in +Manchester, where the people were not so courageous or not so +desperate as in London, several of the popular leaders were +arrested. In London a convention of leaders was got +together from the Federation of Combined Workmen, and sat under +the old revolutionary name of the Committee of Public Safety; but +as they had no drilled and armed body of men to direct, they +attempted no aggressive measures, but only placarded the walls +with somewhat vague appeals to the workmen not to allow +themselves to be trampled upon. However, they called a +meeting in Trafalgar Square for the day fortnight of the +last-mentioned skirmish.</p> +<p>“Meantime the town grew no quieter, and business came +pretty much to an end. The newspapers—then, as always +hitherto, almost entirely in the hands of the +masters—clamoured to the Government for repressive +measures; the rich citizens were enrolled as an extra body of +police, and armed with bludgeons like them; many of these were +strong, well-fed, full-blooded young men, and had plenty of +stomach for fighting; but the Government did not dare to use +them, and contented itself with getting full powers voted to it +by the Parliament for suppressing any revolt, and bringing up +more and more soldiers to London. Thus passed the week +after the great meeting; almost as large a one was held on the +Sunday, which went off peaceably on the whole, as no opposition +to it was offered, and again the people cried +‘victory.’ But on the Monday the people woke up +to find that they were hungry. During the last few days +there had been groups of men parading the streets asking (or, if +you please, demanding) money to buy food; and what for goodwill, +what for fear, the richer people gave them a good deal. The +authorities of the parishes also (I haven’t time to explain +that phrase at present) gave willy-nilly what provisions they +could to wandering people; and the Government, by means of its +feeble national workshops, also fed a good number of half-starved +folk. But in addition to this, several bakers’ shops +and other provision stores had been emptied without a great deal +of disturbance. So far, so good. But on the Monday in +question the Committee of Public Safety, on the one hand afraid +of general unorganised pillage, and on the other emboldened by +the wavering conduct of the authorities, sent a deputation +provided with carts and all necessary gear to clear out two or +three big provision stores in the centre of the town, leaving +papers with the shop managers promising to pay the price of them: +and also in the part of the town where they were strongest they +took possession of several bakers’ shops and set men at +work in them for the benefit of the people;—all of which +was done with little or no disturbance, the police assisting in +keeping order at the sack of the stores, as they would have done +at a big fire.</p> +<p>“But at this last stroke the reactionaries were so +alarmed, that they were, determined to force the executive into +action. The newspapers next day all blazed into the fury of +frightened people, and threatened the people, the Government, and +everybody they could think of, unless ‘order were at once +restored.’ A deputation of leading commercial people +waited on the Government and told them that if they did not at +once arrest the Committee of Public Safety, they themselves would +gather a body of men, arm them, and fall on ‘the +incendiaries,’ as they called them.</p> +<p>“They, together with a number of the newspaper editors, +had a long interview with the heads of the Government and two or +three military men, the deftest in their art that the country +could furnish. The deputation came away from that +interview, says a contemporary eye-witness, smiling and +satisfied, and said no more about raising an anti-popular army, +but that afternoon left London with their families for their +country seats or elsewhere.</p> +<p>“The next morning the Government proclaimed a state of +siege in London,—a thing common enough amongst the +absolutist governments on the Continent, but unheard-of in +England in those days. They appointed the youngest and +cleverest of their generals to command the proclaimed district; a +man who had won a certain sort of reputation in the disgraceful +wars in which the country had been long engaged from time to +time. The newspapers were in ecstacies, and all the most +fervent of the reactionaries now came to the front; men who in +ordinary times were forced to keep their opinions to themselves +or their immediate circle, but who began to look forward to +crushing once for all the Socialist, and even democratic +tendencies, which, said they, had been treated with such foolish +indulgence for the last sixty years.</p> +<p>“But the clever general took no visible action; and yet +only a few of the minor newspapers abused him; thoughtful men +gathered from this that a plot was hatching. As for the +Committee of Public Safety, whatever they thought of their +position, they had now gone too far to draw back; and many of +them, it seems, thought that the government would not act. +They went on quietly organising their food supply, which was a +miserable driblet when all is said; and also as a retort to the +state of siege, they armed as many men as they could in the +quarter where they were strongest, but did not attempt to drill +or organise them, thinking, perhaps, that they could not at the +best turn them into trained soldiers till they had some breathing +space. The clever general, his soldiers, and the police did +not meddle with all this in the least in the world; and things +were quieter in London that week-end; though there were riots in +many places of the provinces, which were quelled by the +authorities without much trouble. The most serious of these +were at Glasgow and Bristol.</p> +<p>“Well, the Sunday of the meeting came, and great crowds +came to Trafalgar Square in procession, the greater part of the +Committee amongst them, surrounded by their band of men armed +somehow or other. The streets were quite peaceful and +quiet, though there were many spectators to see the procession +pass. Trafalgar Square had no body of police in it; the +people took quiet possession of it, and the meeting began. +The armed men stood round the principal platform, and there were +a few others armed amidst the general crowd; but by far the +greater part were unarmed.</p> +<p>“Most people thought the meeting would go off peaceably; +but the members of the Committee had heard from various quarters +that something would be attempted against them; but these rumours +were vague, and they had no idea of what threatened. They +soon found out.</p> +<p>“For before the streets about the Square were filled, a +body of soldiers poured into it from the north-west corner and +took up their places by the houses that stood on the west +side. The people growled at the sight of the red-coats; the +armed men of the Committee stood undecided, not knowing what to +do; and indeed this new influx so jammed the crowd together that, +unorganised as they were, they had little chance of working +through it. They had scarcely grasped the fact of their +enemies being there, when another column of soldiers, pouring out +of the streets which led into the great southern road going down +to the Parliament House (still existing, and called the Dung +Market), and also from the embankment by the side of the Thames, +marched up, pushing the crowd into a denser and denser mass, and +formed along the south side of the Square. Then any of +those who could see what was going on, knew at once that they +were in a trap, and could only wonder what would be done with +them.</p> +<p>“The closely-packed crowd would not or could not budge, +except under the influence of the height of terror, which was +soon to be supplied to them. A few of the armed men +struggled to the front, or climbled up to the base of the +monument which then stood there, that they might face the wall of +hidden fire before them; and to most men (there were many women +amongst them) it seemed as if the end of the world had come, and +to-day seemed strangely different from yesterday. No sooner +were the soldiers drawn up aforesaid than, says an eye-witness, +‘a glittering officer on horseback came prancing out from +the ranks on the south, and read something from a paper which he +held in his hand; which something, very few heard; but I was told +afterwards that it was an order for us to disperse, and a warning +that he had legal right to fire on the crowd else, and that he +would do so. The crowd took it as a challenge of some sort, +and a hoarse threatening roar went up from them; and after that +there was comparative silence for a little, till the officer had +got back into the ranks. I was near the edge of the crowd, +towards the soldiers,’ says this eye-witness, ‘and I +saw three little machines being wheeled out in front of the +ranks, which I knew for mechanical guns. I cried out, +“Throw yourselves down! they are going to +fire!” But no one scarcely could throw himself down, +so tight as the crowd were packed. I heard a sharp order +given, and wondered where I should be the next minute; and +then—It was as if the earth had opened, and hell had +come up bodily amidst us. It is no use trying to describe +the scene that followed. Deep lanes were mowed amidst the +thick crowd; the dead and dying covered the ground, and the +shrieks and wails and cries of horror filled all the air, till it +seemed as if there were nothing else in the world but murder and +death. Those of our armed men who were still unhurt cheered +wildly and opened a scattering fire on the soldiers. One or +two soldiers fell; and I saw the officers going up and down the +ranks urging the men to fire again; but they received the orders +in sullen silence, and let the butts of their guns fall. +Only one sergeant ran to a machine-gun and began to set it going; +but a tall young man, an officer too, ran out of the ranks and +dragged him back by the collar; and the soldiers stood there +motionless while the horror-stricken crowd, nearly wholly unarmed +(for most of the armed men had fallen in that first discharge), +drifted out of the Square. I was told afterwards that the +soldiers on the west side had fired also, and done their part of +the slaughter. How I got out of the Square I scarcely know: +I went, not feeling the ground under me, what with rage and +terror and despair.’</p> +<p>“So says our eye-witness. The number of the slain +on the side of the people in that shooting during a minute was +prodigious; but it was not easy to come at the truth about it; it +was probably between one and two thousand. Of the soldiers, +six were killed outright, and a dozen wounded.”</p> +<p>I listened, trembling with excitement. The old +man’s eyes glittered and his face flushed as he spoke, and +told the tale of what I had often thought might happen. Yet +I wondered that he should have got so elated about a mere +massacre, and I said:</p> +<p>“How fearful! And I suppose that this massacre put +an end to the whole revolution for that time?”</p> +<p>“No, no,” cried old Hammond; “it began +it!”</p> +<p>He filled his glass and mine, and stood up and cried out, +“Drink this glass to the memory of those who died there, +for indeed it would be a long tale to tell how much we owe +them.”</p> +<p>I drank, and he sat down again and went on.</p> +<p>“That massacre of Trafalgar Square began the civil war, +though, like all such events, it gathered head slowly, and people +scarcely knew what a crisis they were acting in.</p> +<p>“Terrible as the massacre was, and hideous and +overpowering as the first terror had been, when the people had +time to think about it, their feeling was one of anger rather +than fear; although the military organisation of the state of +siege was now carried out without shrinking by the clever young +general. For though the ruling-classes when the news spread +next morning felt one gasp of horror and even dread, yet the +Government and their immediate backers felt that now the wine was +drawn and must be drunk. However, even the most reactionary +of the capitalist papers, with two exceptions, stunned by the +tremendous news, simply gave an account of what had taken place, +without making any comment upon it. The exceptions were +one, a so-called ‘liberal’ paper (the Government of +the day was of that complexion), which, after a preamble in which +it declared its undeviating sympathy with the cause of labour, +proceeded to point out that in times of revolutionary disturbance +it behoved the Government to be just but firm, and that by far +the most merciful way of dealing with the poor madmen who were +attacking the very foundations of society (which had made them +mad and poor) was to shoot them at once, so as to stop others +from drifting into a position in which they would run a chance of +being shot. In short, it praised the determined action of +the Government as the acme of human wisdom and mercy, and exulted +in the inauguration of an epoch of reasonable democracy free from +the tyrannical fads of Socialism.</p> +<p>“The other exception was a paper thought to be one of +the most violent opponents of democracy, and so it was; but the +editor of it found his manhood, and spoke for himself and not for +his paper. In a few simple, indignant words he asked people +to consider what a society was worth which had to be defended by +the massacre of unarmed citizens, and called on the Government to +withdraw their state of siege and put the general and his +officers who fired on the people on their trial for murder. +He went further, and declared that whatever his opinion might be +as to the doctrines of the Socialists, he for one should throw in +his lot with the people, until the Government atoned for their +atrocity by showing that they were prepared to listen to the +demands of men who knew what they wanted, and whom the +decrepitude of society forced into pushing their demands in some +way or other.</p> +<p>“Of course, this editor was immediately arrested by the +military power; but his bold words were already in the hands of +the public, and produced a great effect: so great an effect that +the Government, after some vacillation, withdrew the state of +siege; though at the same time it strengthened the military +organisation and made it more stringent. Three of the +Committee of Public Safety had been slain in Trafalgar Square: of +the rest the greater part went back to their old place of +meeting, and there awaited the event calmly. They were +arrested there on the Monday morning, and would have been shot at +once by the general, who was a mere military machine, if the +Government had not shrunk before the responsibility of killing +men without any trial. There was at first a talk of trying +them by a special commission of judges, as it was +called—<i>i.e.</i>, before a set of men bound to find them +guilty, and whose business it was to do so. But with the +Government the cold fit had succeeded to the hot one; and the +prisoners were brought before a jury at the assizes. There +a fresh blow awaited the Government; for in spite of the +judge’s charge, which distinctly instructed the jury to +find the prisoners guilty, they were acquitted, and the jury +added to their verdict a presentment, in which they condemned the +action of the soldiery, in the queer phraseology of the day, as +‘rash, unfortunate, and unnecessary.’ The +Committee of Public Safety renewed its sittings, and from +thenceforth was a popular rallying-point in opposition to the +Parliament. The Government now gave way on all sides, and +made a show of yielding to the demands of the people, though +there was a widespread plot for effecting a coup +d’état set on foot between the leaders of the two +so-called opposing parties in the parliamentary faction +fight. The well-meaning part of the public was overjoyed, +and thought that all danger of a civil war was over. The +victory of the people was celebrated by huge meetings held in the +parks and elsewhere, in memory of the victims of the great +massacre.</p> +<p>“But the measures passed for the relief of the workers, +though to the upper classes they seemed ruinously revolutionary, +were not thorough enough to give the people food and a decent +life, and they had to be supplemented by unwritten enactments +without legality to back them. Although the Government and +Parliament had the law-courts, the army, and +‘society’ at their backs, the Committee of Public +Safety began to be a force in the country, and really represented +the producing classes. It began to improve immensely in the +days which followed on the acquittal of its members. Its +old members had little administrative capacity, though with the +exception of a few self-seekers and traitors, they were honest, +courageous men, and many of them were endowed with considerable +talent of other kinds. But now that the times called for +immediate action, came forward the men capable of setting it on +foot; and a new network of workmen’s associations grew up +very speedily, whose avowed single object was the tiding over of +the ship of the community into a simple condition of Communism; +and as they practically undertook also the management of the +ordinary labour-war, they soon became the mouthpiece and +intermediary of the whole of the working classes; and the +manufacturing profit-grinders now found themselves powerless +before this combination; unless <i>their</i> committee, +Parliament, plucked up courage to begin the civil war again, and +to shoot right and left, they were bound to yield to the demands +of the men whom they employed, and pay higher and higher wages +for shorter and shorter day’s work. Yet one ally they +had, and that was the rapidly approaching breakdown of the whole +system founded on the World-Market and its supply; which now +became so clear to all people, that the middle classes, shocked +for the moment into condemnation of the Government for the great +massacre, turned round nearly in a mass, and called on the +Government to look to matters, and put an end to the tyranny of +the Socialist leaders.</p> +<p>“Thus stimulated, the reactionist plot exploded probably +before it was ripe; but this time the people and their leaders +were forewarned, and, before the reactionaries could get under +way, had taken the steps they thought necessary.</p> +<p>“The Liberal Government (clearly by collusion) was +beaten by the Conservatives, though the latter were nominally +much in the minority. The popular representatives in the +House understood pretty well what this meant, and after an +attempt to fight the matter out by divisions in the House of +Commons, they made a protest, left the House, and came in a body +to the Committee of Public Safety: and the civil war began again +in good earnest.</p> +<p>“Yet its first act was not one of mere fighting. +The new Tory Government determined to act, yet durst not re-enact +the state of siege, but it sent a body of soldiers and police to +arrest the Committee of Public Safety in the lump. They +made no resistance, though they might have done so, as they had +now a considerable body of men who were quite prepared for +extremities. But they were determined to try first a weapon +which they thought stronger than street fighting.</p> +<p>“The members of the Committee went off quietly to +prison; but they had left their soul and their organisation +behind them. For they depended not on a carefully arranged +centre with all kinds of checks and counter-checks about it, but +on a huge mass of people in thorough sympathy with the movement, +bound together by a great number of links of small centres with +very simple instructions. These instructions were now +carried out.</p> +<p>“The next morning, when the leaders of the reaction were +chuckling at the effect which the report in the newspapers of +their stroke would have upon the public—no newspapers +appeared; and it was only towards noon that a few straggling +sheets, about the size of the gazettes of the seventeenth +century, worked by policemen, soldiers, managers, and +press-writers, were dribbled through the streets. They were +greedily seized on and read; but by this time the serious part of +their news was stale, and people did not need to be told that the +GENERAL STRIKE had begun. The railways did not run, the +telegraph-wires were unserved; flesh, fish, and green stuff +brought to market was allowed to lie there still packed and +perishing; the thousands of middle-class families, who were +utterly dependant for the next meal on the workers, made frantic +efforts through their more energetic members to cater for the +needs of the day, and amongst those of them who could throw off +the fear of what was to follow, there was, I am told, a certain +enjoyment of this unexpected picnic—a forecast of the days +to come, in which all labour grew pleasant.</p> +<p>“So passed the first day, and towards evening the +Government grew quite distracted. They had but one resource +for putting down any popular movement—to wit, mere +brute-force; but there was nothing for them against which to use +their army and police: no armed bodies appeared in the streets; +the offices of the Federated Workmen were now, in appearance, at +least, turned into places for the relief of people thrown out of +work, and under the circumstances, they durst not arrest the men +engaged in such business, all the more, as even that night many +quite respectable people applied at these offices for relief, and +swallowed down the charity of the revolutionists along with their +supper. So the Government massed soldiers and police here +and there—and sat still for that night, fully expecting on +the morrow some manifesto from ‘the rebels,’ as they +now began to be called, which would give them an opportunity of +acting in some way or another. They were +disappointed. The ordinary newspapers gave up the struggle +that morning, and only one very violent reactionary paper (called +the <i>Daily Telegraph</i>) attempted an appearance, and rated +‘the rebels’ in good set terms for their folly and +ingratitude in tearing out the bowels of their ‘common +mother,’ the English Nation, for the benefit of a few +greedy paid agitators, and the fools whom they were +deluding. On the other hand, the Socialist papers (of which +three only, representing somewhat different schools, were +published in London) came out full to the throat of well-printed +matter. They were greedily bought by the whole public, who, +of course, like the Government, expected a manifesto in +them. But they found no word of reference to the great +subject. It seemed as if their editors had ransacked their +drawers for articles which would have been in place forty years +before, under the technical name of educational articles. +Most of these were admirable and straightforward expositions of +the doctrines and practice of Socialism, free from haste and +spite and hard words, and came upon the public with a kind of +May-day freshness, amidst the worry and terror of the moment; and +though the knowing well understood that the meaning of this move +in the game was mere defiance, and a token of irreconcilable +hostility to the then rulers of society, and though, also, they +were meant for nothing else by ‘the rebels,’ yet they +really had their effect as ‘educational +articles.’ However, ‘education’ of +another kind was acting upon the public with irresistible power, +and probably cleared their heads a little.</p> +<p>“As to the Government, they were absolutely terrified by +this act of ‘boycotting’ (the slang word then current +for such acts of abstention). Their counsels became wild +and vacillating to the last degree: one hour they were for giving +way for the present till they could hatch another plot; the next +they all but sent an order for the arrest in the lump of all the +workmen’s committees; the next they were on the point of +ordering their brisk young general to take any excuse that +offered for another massacre. But when they called to mind +that the soldiery in that ‘Battle’ of Trafalgar +Square were so daunted by the slaughter which they had made, that +they could not be got to fire a second volley, they shrank back +again from the dreadful courage necessary for carrying out +another massacre. Meantime the prisoners, brought the +second time before the magistrates under a strong escort of +soldiers, were the second time remanded.</p> +<p>“The strike went on this day also. The +workmen’s committees were extended, and gave relief to +great numbers of people, for they had organised a considerable +amount of production of food by men whom they could depend +upon. Quite a number of well-to-do people were now +compelled to seek relief of them. But another curious thing +happened: a band of young men of the upper classes armed +themselves, and coolly went marauding in the streets, taking what +suited them of such eatables and portables that they came across +in the shops which had ventured to open. This operation +they carried out in Oxford Street, then a great street of shops +of all kinds. The Government, being at that hour in one of +their yielding moods, thought this a fine opportunity for showing +their impartiality in the maintenance of ‘order,’ and +sent to arrest these hungry rich youths; who, however, surprised +the police by a valiant resistance, so that all but three +escaped. The Government did not gain the reputation for +impartiality which they expected from this move; for they forgot +that there were no evening papers; and the account of the +skirmish spread wide indeed, but in a distorted form for it was +mostly told simply as an exploit of the starving people from the +East-end; and everybody thought it was but natural for the +Government to put them down when and where they could.</p> +<p>“That evening the rebel prisoners were visited in their +cells by <i>very</i> polite and sympathetic persons, who pointed +out to them what a suicidal course they were following, and how +dangerous these extreme courses were for the popular cause. +Says one of the prisoners: ‘It was great sport comparing +notes when we came out anent the attempt of the Government to +“get at” us separately in prison, and how we answered +the blandishments of the highly “intelligent and +refined” persons set on to pump us. One laughed; +another told extravagant long-bow stories to the envoy; a third +held a sulky silence; a fourth damned the polite spy and bade him +hold his jaw—and that was all they got out of +us.’</p> +<p>“So passed the second day of the great strike. It +was clear to all thinking people that the third day would bring +on the crisis; for the present suspense and ill-concealed terror +was unendurable. The ruling classes, and the middle-class +non-politicians who had been their real strength and support, +were as sheep lacking a shepherd; they literally did not know +what to do.</p> +<p>“One thing they found they had to do: try to get the +‘rebels’ to do something. So the next morning, +the morning of the third day of the strike, when the members of +the Committee of Public Safety appeared again before the +magistrate, they found themselves treated with the greatest +possible courtesy—in fact, rather as envoys and ambassadors +than prisoners. In short, the magistrate had received his +orders; and with no more to do than might come of a long stupid +speech, which might have been written by Dickens in mockery, he +discharged the prisoners, who went back to their meeting-place +and at once began a due sitting. It was high time. +For this third day the mass was fermenting indeed. There +was, of course, a vast number of working people who were not +organised in the least in the world; men who had been used to act +as their masters drove them, or rather as the system drove, of +which their masters were a part. That system was now +falling to pieces, and the old pressure of the master having been +taken off these poor men, it seemed likely that nothing but the +mere animal necessities and passions of men would have any hold +on them, and that mere general overturn would be the +result. Doubtless this would have happened if it had not +been that the huge mass had been leavened by Socialist opinion in +the first place, and in the second by actual contact with +declared Socialists, many or indeed most of whom were members of +those bodies of workmen above said.</p> +<p>If anything of this kind had happened some years before, when +the masters of labour were still looked upon as the natural +rulers of the people, and even the poorest and most ignorant man +leaned upon them for support, while they submitted to their +fleecing, the entire break-up of all society would have +followed. But the long series of years during which the +workmen had learned to despise their rulers, had done away with +their dependence upon them, and they were now beginning to trust +(somewhat dangerously, as events proved) in the non-legal leaders +whom events had thrust forward; and though most of these were now +become mere figure-heads, their names and reputations were useful +in this crisis as a stop-gap.</p> +<p>“The effect of the news, therefore, of the release of +the Committee gave the Government some breathing time: for it was +received with the greatest joy by the workers, and even the +well-to-do saw in it a respite from the mere destruction which +they had begun to dread, and the fear of which most of them +attributed to the weakness of the Government. As far as the +passing hour went, perhaps they were right in this.”</p> +<p>“How do you mean?” said I. “What could +the Government have done? I often used to think that they +would be helpless in such a crisis.”</p> +<p>Said old Hammond: “Of course I don’t doubt that in +the long run matters would have come about as they did. But +if the Government could have treated their army as a real army, +and used them strategically as a general would have done, looking +on the people as a mere open enemy to be shot at and dispersed +wherever they turned up, they would probably have gained the +victory at the time.”</p> +<p>“But would the soldiers have acted against the people in +this way?” said I.</p> +<p>Said he: “I think from all I have heard that they would +have done so if they had met bodies of men armed however badly, +and however badly they had been organised. It seems also as +if before the Trafalgar Square massacre they might as a whole +have been depended upon to fire upon an unarmed crowd, though +they were much honeycombed by Socialism. The reason for +this was that they dreaded the use by apparently unarmed men of +an explosive called dynamite, of which many loud boasts were made +by the workers on the eve of these events; although it turned out +to be of little use as a material for war in the way that was +expected. Of course the officers of the soldiery fanned +this fear to the utmost, so that the rank and file probably +thought on that occasion that they were being led into a +desperate battle with men who were really armed, and whose weapon +was the more dreadful, because it was concealed. After that +massacre, however, it was at all times doubtful if the regular +soldiers would fire upon an unarmed or half-armed +crowd.”</p> +<p>Said I: “The regular soldiers? Then there were +other combatants against the people?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he, “we shall come to that +presently.”</p> +<p>“Certainly,” I said, “you had better go on +straight with your story. I see that time is +wearing.”</p> +<p>Said Hammond: “The Government lost no time in coming to +terms with the Committee of Public Safety; for indeed they could +think of nothing else than the danger of the moment. They +sent a duly accredited envoy to treat with these men, who somehow +had obtained dominion over people’s minds, while the formal +rulers had no hold except over their bodies. There is no +need at present to go into the details of the truce (for such it +was) between these high contracting parties, the Government of +the empire of Great Britain and a handful of working-men (as they +were called in scorn in those days), amongst whom, indeed, were +some very capable and ‘square-headed’ persons, +though, as aforesaid, the abler men were not then the recognised +leaders. The upshot of it was that all the definite claims +of the people had to be granted. We can now see that most +of these claims were of themselves not worth either demanding or +resisting; but they were looked on at that time as most +important, and they were at least tokens of revolt against the +miserable system of life which was then beginning to tumble to +pieces. One claim, however, was of the utmost immediate +importance, and this the Government tried hard to evade; but as +they were not dealing with fools, they had to yield at +last. This was the claim of recognition and formal status +for the Committee of Public Safety, and all the associations +which it fostered under its wing. This it is clear meant +two things: first, amnesty for ‘the rebels,’ great +and small, who, without a distinct act of civil war, could no +longer be attacked; and next, a continuance of the organised +revolution. Only one point the Government could gain, and +that was a name. The dreadful revolutionary title was +dropped, and the body, with its branches, acted under the +respectable name of the ‘Board of Conciliation and its +local offices.’ Carrying this name, it became the +leader of the people in the civil war which soon +followed.”</p> +<p>“O,” said I, somewhat startled, “so the +civil war went on, in spite of all that had happened?”</p> +<p>“So it was,” said he. “In fact, it was +this very legal recognition which made the civil war possible in +the ordinary sense of war; it took the struggle out of the +element of mere massacres on one side, and endurance plus strikes +on the other.”</p> +<p>“And can you tell me in what kind of way the war was +carried on?” said I.</p> +<p>“Yes” he said; “we have records and to spare +of all that; and the essence of them I can give you in a few +words. As I told you, the rank and file of the army was not +to be trusted by the reactionists; but the officers generally +were prepared for anything, for they were mostly the very +stupidest men in the country. Whatever the Government might +do, a great part of the upper and middle classes were determined +to set on foot a counter revolution; for the Communism which now +loomed ahead seemed quite unendurable to them. Bands of +young men, like the marauders in the great strike of whom I told +you just now, armed themselves and drilled, and began on any +opportunity or pretence to skirmish with the people in the +streets. The Government neither helped them nor put them +down, but stood by, hoping that something might come of it. +These ‘Friends of Order,’ as they were called, had +some successes at first, and grew bolder; they got many officers +of the regular army to help them, and by their means laid hold of +munitions of war of all kinds. One part of their tactics +consisted in their guarding and even garrisoning the big +factories of the period: they held at one time, for instance, the +whole of that place called Manchester which I spoke of just +now. A sort of irregular war was carried on with varied +success all over the country; and at last the Government, which +at first pretended to ignore the struggle, or treat it as mere +rioting, definitely declared for ‘the Friends of +Order,’ and joined to their bands whatsoever of the regular +army they could get together, and made a desperate effort to +overwhelm ‘the rebels,’ as they were now once more +called, and as indeed they called themselves.</p> +<p>“It was too late. All ideas of peace on a basis of +compromise had disappeared on either side. The end, it was +seen clearly, must be either absolute slavery for all but the +privileged, or a system of life founded on equality and +Communism. The sloth, the hopelessness, and if I may say +so, the cowardice of the last century, had given place to the +eager, restless heroism of a declared revolutionary period. +I will not say that the people of that time foresaw the life we +are leading now, but there was a general instinct amongst them +towards the essential part of that life, and many men saw clearly +beyond the desperate struggle of the day into the peace which it +was to bring about. The men of that day who were on the +side of freedom were not unhappy, I think, though they were +harassed by hopes and fears, and sometimes torn by doubts, and +the conflict of duties hard to reconcile.”</p> +<p>“But how did the people, the revolutionists, carry on +the war? What were the elements of success on their +side?”</p> +<p>I put this question, because I wanted to bring the old man +back to the definite history, and take him out of the musing mood +so natural to an old man.</p> +<p>He answered: “Well, they did not lack organisers; for +the very conflict itself, in days when, as I told you, men of any +strength of mind cast away all consideration for the ordinary +business of life, developed the necessary talent amongst +them. Indeed, from all I have read and heard, I much doubt +whether, without this seemingly dreadful civil war, the due +talent for administration would have been developed amongst the +working men. Anyhow, it was there, and they soon got +leaders far more than equal to the best men amongst the +reactionaries. For the rest, they had no difficulty about +the material of their army; for that revolutionary instinct so +acted on the ordinary soldier in the ranks that the greater part, +certainly the best part, of the soldiers joined the side of the +people. But the main element of their success was this, +that wherever the working people were not coerced, they worked, +not for the reactionists, but for ‘the rebels.’ +The reactionists could get no work done for them outside the +districts where they were all-powerful: and even in those +districts they were harassed by continual risings; and in all +cases and everywhere got nothing done without obstruction and +black looks and sulkiness; so that not only were their armies +quite worn out with the difficulties which they had to meet, but +the non-combatants who were on their side were so worried and +beset with hatred and a thousand little troubles and annoyances +that life became almost unendurable to them on those terms. +Not a few of them actually died of the worry; many committed +suicide. Of course, a vast number of them joined actively +in the cause of reaction, and found some solace to their misery +in the eagerness of conflict. Lastly, many thousands gave +way and submitted to ‘the rebels’; and as the numbers +of these latter increased, it at last became clear to all men +that the cause which was once hopeless, was now triumphant, and +that the hopeless cause was that of slavery and +privilege.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII: THE BEGINNING OF THE NEW LIFE</h2> +<p>“Well,” said I, “so you got clear out of all +your trouble. Were people satisfied with the new order of +things when it came?”</p> +<p>“People?” he said. “Well, surely all +must have been glad of peace when it came; especially when they +found, as they must have found, that after all, they—even +the once rich—were not living very badly. As to those +who had been poor, all through the war, which lasted about two +years, their condition had been bettering, in spite of the +struggle; and when peace came at last, in a very short time they +made great strides towards a decent life. The great +difficulty was that the once-poor had such a feeble conception of +the real pleasure of life: so to say, they did not ask enough, +did not know how to ask enough, from the new state of +things. It was perhaps rather a good than an evil thing +that the necessity for restoring the wealth destroyed during the +war forced them into working at first almost as hard as they had +been used to before the Revolution. For all historians are +agreed that there never was a war in which there was so much +destruction of wares, and instruments for making them as in this +civil war.”</p> +<p>“I am rather surprised at that,” said I.</p> +<p>“Are you? I don’t see why,” said +Hammond.</p> +<p>“Why,” I said, “because the party of order +would surely look upon the wealth as their own property, no share +of which, if they could help it, should go to their slaves, +supposing they conquered. And on the other hand, it was +just for the possession of that wealth that ‘the +rebels’ were fighting, and I should have thought, +especially when they saw that they were winning, that they would +have been careful to destroy as little as possible of what was so +soon to be their own.”</p> +<p>“It was as I have told you, however,” said +he. “The party of order, when they recovered from +their first cowardice of surprise—or, if you please, when +they fairly saw that, whatever happened, they would be ruined, +fought with great bitterness, and cared little what they did, so +long as they injured the enemies who had destroyed the sweets of +life for them. As to ‘the rebels,’ I have told +you that the outbreak of actual war made them careless of trying +to save the wretched scraps of wealth that they had. It was +a common saying amongst them, Let the country be cleared of +everything except valiant living men, rather than that we fall +into slavery again!”</p> +<p>He sat silently thinking a little while, and then said:</p> +<p>“When the conflict was once really begun, it was seen +how little of any value there was in the old world of slavery and +inequality. Don’t you see what it means? In the +times which you are thinking of, and of which you seem to know so +much, there was no hope; nothing but the dull jog of the +mill-horse under compulsion of collar and whip; but in that +fighting-time that followed, all was hope: ‘the +rebels’ at least felt themselves strong enough to build up +the world again from its dry bones,—and they did it, +too!” said the old man, his eyes glittering under his +beetling brows. He went on: “And their opponents at +least and at last learned something about the reality of life, +and its sorrows, which they—their class, I mean—had +once known nothing of. In short, the two combatants, the +workman and the gentleman, between them—”</p> +<p>“Between them,” said I, quickly, “they +destroyed commercialism!”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes, yes,” said he; “that is it. +Nor could it have been destroyed otherwise; except, perhaps, by +the whole of society gradually falling into lower depths, till it +should at last reach a condition as rude as barbarism, but +lacking both the hope and the pleasures of barbarism. +Surely the sharper, shorter remedy was the happiest.”</p> +<p>“Most surely,” said I.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the old man, “the world was +being brought to its second birth; how could that take place +without a tragedy? Moreover, think of it. The spirit +of the new days, of our days, was to be delight in the life of +the world; intense and overweening love of the very skin and +surface of the earth on which man dwells, such as a lover has in +the fair flesh of the woman he loves; this, I say, was to be the +new spirit of the time. All other moods save this had been +exhausted: the unceasing criticism, the boundless curiosity in +the ways and thoughts of man, which was the mood of the ancient +Greek, to whom these things were not so much a means, as an end, +was gone past recovery; nor had there been really any shadow of +it in the so-called science of the nineteenth century, which, as +you must know, was in the main an appendage to the commercial +system; nay, not seldom an appendage to the police of that +system. In spite of appearances, it was limited and +cowardly, because it did not really believe in itself. It +was the outcome, as it was the sole relief, of the unhappiness of +the period which made life so bitter even to the rich, and which, +as you may see with your bodily eyes, the great change has swept +away. More akin to our way of looking at life was the +spirit of the Middle Ages, to whom heaven and the life of the +next world was such a reality, that it became to them a part of +the life upon the earth; which accordingly they loved and +adorned, in spite of the ascetic doctrines of their formal creed, +which bade them contemn it.</p> +<p>“But that also, with its assured belief in heaven and +hell as two countries in which to live, has gone, and now we do, +both in word and in deed, believe in the continuous life of the +world of men, and as it were, add every day of that common life +to the little stock of days which our own mere individual +experience wins for us: and consequently we are happy. Do +you wonder at it? In times past, indeed, men were told to +love their kind, to believe in the religion of humanity, and so +forth. But look you, just in the degree that a man had +elevation of mind and refinement enough to be able to value this +idea, was he repelled by the obvious aspect of the individuals +composing the mass which he was to worship; and he could only +evade that repulsion by making a conventional abstraction of +mankind that had little actual or historical relation to the +race; which to his eyes was divided into blind tyrants on the one +hand and apathetic degraded slaves on the other. But now, +where is the difficulty in accepting the religion of humanity, +when the men and women who go to make up humanity are free, +happy, and energetic at least, and most commonly beautiful of +body also, and surrounded by beautiful things of their own +fashioning, and a nature bettered and not worsened by contact +with mankind? This is what this age of the world has +reserved for us.”</p> +<p>“It seems true,” said I, “or ought to be, if +what my eyes have seen is a token of the general life you +lead. Can you now tell me anything of your progress after +the years of the struggle?”</p> +<p>Said he: “I could easily tell you more than you have +time to listen to; but I can at least hint at one of the chief +difficulties which had to be met: and that was, that when men +began to settle down after the war, and their labour had pretty +much filled up the gap in wealth caused by the destruction of +that war, a kind of disappointment seemed coming over us, and the +prophecies of some of the reactionists of past times seemed as if +they would come true, and a dull level of utilitarian comfort be +the end for a while of our aspirations and success. The +loss of the competitive spur to exertion had not, indeed, done +anything to interfere with the necessary production of the +community, but how if it should make men dull by giving them too +much time for thought or idle musing? But, after all, this +dull thunder-cloud only threatened us, and then passed +over. Probably, from what I have told you before, you will +have a guess at the remedy for such a disaster; remembering +always that many of the things which used to be +produced—slave-wares for the poor and mere wealth-wasting +wares for the rich—ceased to be made. That remedy +was, in short, the production of what used to be called art, but +which has no name amongst us now, because it has become a +necessary part of the labour of every man who +produces.”</p> +<p>Said I: “What! had men any time or opportunity for +cultivating the fine arts amidst the desperate struggle for life +and freedom that you have told me of?”</p> +<p>Said Hammond: “You must not suppose that the new form of +art was founded chiefly on the memory of the art of the past; +although, strange to say, the civil war was much less destructive +of art than of other things, and though what of art existed under +the old forms, revived in a wonderful way during the latter part +of the struggle, especially as regards music and poetry. +The art or work-pleasure, as one ought to call it, of which I am +now speaking, sprung up almost spontaneously, it seems, from a +kind of instinct amongst people, no longer driven desperately to +painful and terrible over-work, to do the best they could with +the work in hand—to make it excellent of its kind; and when +that had gone on for a little, a craving for beauty seemed to +awaken in men’s minds, and they began rudely and awkwardly +to ornament the wares which they made; and when they had once set +to work at that, it soon began to grow. All this was much +helped by the abolition of the squalor which our immediate +ancestors put up with so coolly; and by the leisurely, but not +stupid, country-life which now grew (as I told you before) to be +common amongst us. Thus at last and by slow degrees we got +pleasure into our work; then we became conscious of that +pleasure, and cultivated it, and took care that we had our fill +of it; and then all was gained, and we were happy. So may +it be for ages and ages!”</p> +<p>The old man fell into a reverie, not altogether without +melancholy I thought; but I would not break it. Suddenly he +started, and said: “Well, dear guest, here are come Dick +and Clara to fetch you away, and there is an end of my talk; +which I daresay you will not be sorry for; the long day is coming +to an end, and you will have a pleasant ride back to +Hammersmith.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX: THE DRIVE BACK TO HAMMERSMITH</h2> +<p>I said nothing, for I was not inclined for mere politeness to +him after such very serious talk; but in fact I should liked to +have gone on talking with the older man, who could understand +something at least of my wonted ways of looking at life, whereas, +with the younger people, in spite of all their kindness, I really +was a being from another planet. However, I made the best +of it, and smiled as amiably as I could on the young couple; and +Dick returned the smile by saying, “Well, guest, I am glad +to have you again, and to find that you and my kinsman have not +quite talked yourselves into another world; I was half suspecting +as I was listening to the Welshmen yonder that you would +presently be vanishing away from us, and began to picture my +kinsman sitting in the hall staring at nothing and finding that +he had been talking a while past to nobody.”</p> +<p>I felt rather uncomfortable at this speech, for suddenly the +picture of the sordid squabble, the dirty and miserable tragedy +of the life I had left for a while, came before my eyes; and I +had, as it were, a vision of all my longings for rest and peace +in the past, and I loathed the idea of going back to it +again. But the old man chuckled and said:</p> +<p>“Don’t be afraid, Dick. In any case, I have +not been talking to thin air; nor, indeed to this new friend of +ours only. Who knows but I may not have been talking to +many people? For perhaps our guest may some day go back to +the people he has come from, and may take a message from us which +may bear fruit for them, and consequently for us.”</p> +<p>Dick looked puzzled, and said: “Well, gaffer, I do not +quite understand what you mean. All I can say is, that I +hope he will not leave us: for don’t you see, he is another +kind of man to what we are used to, and somehow he makes us think +of all kind of things; and already I feel as if I could +understand Dickens the better for having talked with +him.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Clara, “and I think in a few +months we shall make him look younger; and I should like to see +what he was like with the wrinkles smoothed out of his +face. Don’t you think he will look younger after a +little time with us?”</p> +<p>The old man shook his head, and looked earnestly at me, but +did not answer her, and for a moment or two we were all +silent. Then Clara broke out:</p> +<p>“Kinsman, I don’t like this: something or another +troubles me, and I feel as if something untoward were going to +happen. You have been talking of past miseries to the +guest, and have been living in past unhappy times, and it is in +the air all round us, and makes us feel as if we were longing for +something that we cannot have.”</p> +<p>The old man smiled on her kindly, and said: “Well, my +child, if that be so, go and live in the present, and you will +soon shake it off.” Then he turned to me, and said: +“Do you remember anything like that, guest, in the country +from which you come?”</p> +<p>The lovers had turned aside now, and were talking together +softly, and not heeding us; so I said, but in a low voice: +“Yes, when I was a happy child on a sunny holiday, and had +everything that I could think of.”</p> +<p>“So it is,” said he. “You remember +just now you twitted me with living in the second childhood of +the world. You will find it a happy world to live in; you +will be happy there—for a while.”</p> +<p>Again I did not like his scarcely veiled threat, and was +beginning to trouble myself with trying to remember how I had got +amongst this curious people, when the old man called out in a +cheery voice: “Now, my children, take your guest away, and +make much of him; for it is your business to make him sleek of +skin and peaceful of mind: he has by no means been as lucky as +you have. Farewell, guest!” and he grasped my hand +warmly.</p> +<p>“Good-bye,” said I, “and thank you very much +for all that you have told me. I will come and see you as +soon as I come back to London. May I?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said, “come by all means—if +you can.”</p> +<p>“It won’t be for some time yet,” quoth Dick, +in his cheery voice; “for when the hay is in up the river, +I shall be for taking him a round through the country between hay +and wheat harvest, to see how our friends live in the north +country. Then in the wheat harvest we shall do a good +stroke of work, I should hope,—in Wiltshire by preference; +for he will be getting a little hard with all the open-air +living, and I shall be as tough as nails.”</p> +<p>“But you will take me along, won’t you, +Dick?” said Clara, laying her pretty hand on his +shoulder.</p> +<p>“Will I not?” said Dick, somewhat +boisterously. “And we will manage to send you to bed +pretty tired every night; and you will look so beautiful with +your neck all brown, and your hands too, and you under your gown +as white as privet, that you will get some of those strange +discontented whims out of your head, my dear. However, our +week’s haymaking will do all that for you.”</p> +<p>The girl reddened very prettily, and not for shame but for +pleasure; and the old man laughed, and said:</p> +<p>“Guest, I see that you will be as comfortable as need +be; for you need not fear that those two will be too officious +with you: they will be so busy with each other, that they will +leave you a good deal to yourself, I am sure, and that is a real +kindness to a guest, after all. O, you need not be afraid +of being one too many, either: it is just what these birds in a +nest like, to have a good convenient friend to turn to, so that +they may relieve the ecstasies of love with the solid commonplace +of friendship. Besides, Dick, and much more Clara, likes a +little talking at times; and you know lovers do not talk unless +they get into trouble, they only prattle. Good-bye, guest; +may you be happy!”</p> +<p>Clara went up to old Hammond, threw her arms about his neck +and kissed him heartily, and said:</p> +<p>“You are a dear old man, and may have your jest about me +as much as you please; and it won’t be long before we see +you again; and you may be sure we shall make our guest happy; +though, mind you, there is some truth in what you say.”</p> +<p>Then I shook hands again, and we went out of the hall and into +the cloisters, and so in the street found Greylocks in the shafts +waiting for us. He was well looked after; for a little lad +of about seven years old had his hand on the rein and was +solemnly looking up into his face; on his back, withal, was a +girl of fourteen, holding a three-year old sister on before her; +while another girl, about a year older than the boy, hung on +behind. The three were occupied partly with eating +cherries, partly with patting and punching Greylocks, who took +all their caresses in good part, but pricked up his ears when +Dick made his appearance. The girls got off quietly, and +going up to Clara, made much of her and snuggled up to her. +And then we got into the carriage, Dick shook the reins, and we +got under way at once, Greylocks trotting soberly between the +lovely trees of the London streets, that were sending floods of +fragrance into the cool evening air; for it was now getting +toward sunset.</p> +<p>We could hardly go but fair and softly all the way, as there +were a great many people abroad in that cool hour. Seeing +so many people made me notice their looks the more; and I must +say, my taste, cultivated in the sombre greyness, or rather +brownness, of the nineteenth century, was rather apt to condemn +the gaiety and brightness of the raiment; and I even ventured to +say as much to Clara. She seemed rather surprised, and even +slightly indignant, and said: “Well, well, what’s the +matter? They are not about any dirty work; they are only +amusing themselves in the fine evening; there is nothing to foul +their clothes. Come, doesn’t it all look very +pretty? It isn’t gaudy, you know.”</p> +<p>Indeed that was true; for many of the people were clad in +colours that were sober enough, though beautiful, and the harmony +of the colours was perfect and most delightful.</p> +<p>I said, “Yes, that is so; but how can everybody afford +such costly garments? Look! there goes a middle-aged man in +a sober grey dress; but I can see from here that it is made of +very fine woollen stuff, and is covered with silk +embroidery.”</p> +<p>Said Clara: “He could wear shabby clothes if he +pleased,—that is, if he didn’t think he would hurt +people’s feelings by doing so.”</p> +<p>“But please tell me,” said I, “how can they +afford it?”</p> +<p>As soon as I had spoken I perceived that I had got back to my +old blunder; for I saw Dick’s shoulders shaking with +laughter; but he wouldn’t say a word, but handed me over to +the tender mercies of Clara, who said—</p> +<p>“Why, I don’t know what you mean. Of course +we can afford it, or else we shouldn’t do it. It +would be easy enough for us to say, we will only spend our labour +on making our clothes comfortable: but we don’t choose to +stop there. Why do you find fault with us? Does it +seem to you as if we starved ourselves of food in order to make +ourselves fine clothes? Or do you think there is anything +wrong in liking to see the coverings of our bodies beautiful like +our bodies are?—just as a deer’s or an otter’s +skin has been made beautiful from the first? Come, what is +wrong with you?”</p> +<p>I bowed before the storm, and mumbled out some excuse or +other. I must say, I might have known that people who were +so fond of architecture generally, would not be backward in +ornamenting themselves; all the more as the shape of their +raiment, apart from its colour, was both beautiful and +reasonable—veiling the form, without either muffling or +caricaturing it.</p> +<p>Clara was soon mollified; and as we drove along toward the +wood before mentioned, she said to Dick—</p> +<p>“I tell you what, Dick: now that kinsman Hammond the +Elder has seen our guest in his queer clothes, I think we ought +to find him something decent to put on for our journey to-morrow: +especially since, if we do not, we shall have to answer all sorts +of questions as to his clothes and where they came from. +Besides,” she said slily, “when he is clad in +handsome garments he will not be so quick to blame us for our +childishness in wasting our time in making ourselves look +pleasant to each other.”</p> +<p>“All right, Clara,” said Dick; “he shall +have everything that you—that he wants to have. I +will look something out for him before he gets up +to-morrow.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX: THE HAMMERSMITH GUEST-HOUSE AGAIN</h2> +<p>Amidst such talk, driving quietly through the balmy evening, +we came to Hammersmith, and were well received by our friends +there. Boffin, in a fresh suit of clothes, welcomed me back +with stately courtesy; the weaver wanted to button-hole me and +get out of me what old Hammond had said, but was very friendly +and cheerful when Dick warned him off; Annie shook hands with me, +and hoped I had had a pleasant day—so kindly, that I felt a +slight pang as our hands parted; for to say the truth, I liked +her better than Clara, who seemed to be always a little on the +defensive, whereas Annie was as frank as could be, and seemed to +get honest pleasure from everything and everybody about her +without the least effort.</p> +<p>We had quite a little feast that evening, partly in my honour, +and partly, I suspect, though nothing was said about it, in +honour of Dick and Clara coming together again. The wine +was of the best; the hall was redolent of rich summer flowers; +and after supper we not only had music (Annie, to my mind, +surpassing all the others for sweetness and clearness of voice, +as well as for feeling and meaning), but at last we even got to +telling stories, and sat there listening, with no other light but +that of the summer moon streaming through the beautiful traceries +of the windows, as if we had belonged to time long passed, when +books were scarce and the art of reading somewhat rare. +Indeed, I may say here, that, though, as you will have noted, my +friends had mostly something to say about books, yet they were +not great readers, considering the refinement of their manners +and the great amount of leisure which they obviously had. +In fact, when Dick, especially, mentioned a book, he did so with +an air of a man who has accomplished an achievement; as much as +to say, “There, you see, I have actually read +that!”</p> +<p>The evening passed all too quickly for me; since that day, for +the first time in my life, I was having my fill of the pleasure +of the eyes without any of that sense of incongruity, that dread +of approaching ruin, which had always beset me hitherto when I +had been amongst the beautiful works of art of the past, mingled +with the lovely nature of the present; both of them, in fact, the +result of the long centuries of tradition, which had compelled +men to produce the art, and compelled nature to run into the +mould of the ages. Here I could enjoy everything without an +afterthought of the injustice and miserable toil which made my +leisure; the ignorance and dulness of life which went to make my +keen appreciation of history; the tyranny and the struggle full +of fear and mishap which went to make my romance. The only +weight I had upon my heart was a vague fear as it drew toward +bed-time concerning the place wherein I should wake on the +morrow: but I choked that down, and went to bed happy, and in a +very few moments was in a dreamless sleep.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI: GOING UP THE RIVER</h2> +<p>When I did wake, to a beautiful sunny morning, I leapt out of +bed with my over-night apprehension still clinging to me, which +vanished delightfully however in a moment as I looked around my +little sleeping chamber and saw the pale but pure-coloured +figures painted on the plaster of the wall, with verses written +underneath them which I knew somewhat over well. I dressed +speedily, in a suit of blue laid ready for me, so handsome that I +quite blushed when I had got into it, feeling as I did so that +excited pleasure of anticipation of a holiday, which, well +remembered as it was, I had not felt since I was a boy, new come +home for the summer holidays.</p> +<p>It seemed quite early in the morning, and I expected to have +the hall to myself when I came into it out of the corridor +wherein was my sleeping chamber; but I met Annie at once, who let +fall her broom and gave me a kiss, quite meaningless I fear, +except as betokening friendship, though she reddened as she did +it, not from shyness, but from friendly pleasure, and then stood +and picked up her broom again, and went on with her sweeping, +nodding to me as if to bid me stand out of the way and look on; +which, to say the truth, I thought amusing enough, as there were +five other girls helping her, and their graceful figures engaged +in the leisurely work were worth going a long way to see, and +their merry talk and laughing as they swept in quite a scientific +manner was worth going a long way to hear. But Annie +presently threw me back a word or two as she went on to the other +end of the hall: “Guest,” she said, “I am glad +that you are up early, though we wouldn’t disturb you; for +our Thames is a lovely river at half-past six on a June morning: +and as it would be a pity for you to lose it, I am told just to +give you a cup of milk and a bit of bread outside there, and put +you into the boat: for Dick and Clara are all ready now. +Wait half a minute till I have swept down this row.”</p> +<p>So presently she let her broom drop again, and came and took +me by the hand and led me out on to the terrace above the river, +to a little table under the boughs, where my bread and milk took +the form of as dainty a breakfast as any one could desire, and +then sat by me as I ate. And in a minute or two Dick and +Clara came to me, the latter looking most fresh and beautiful in +a light silk embroidered gown, which to my unused eyes was +extravagantly gay and bright; while Dick was also handsomely +dressed in white flannel prettily embroidered. Clara raised +her gown in her hands as she gave me the morning greeting, and +said laughingly: “Look, guest! you see we are at least as +fine as any of the people you felt inclined to scold last night; +you see we are not going to make the bright day and the flowers +feel ashamed of themselves. Now scold me!”</p> +<p>Quoth I: “No, indeed; the pair of you seem as if you +were born out of the summer day itself; and I will scold you when +I scold it.”</p> +<p>“Well, you know,” said Dick, “this is a +special day—all these days are, I mean. The +hay-harvest is in some ways better than corn-harvest because of +the beautiful weather; and really, unless you had worked in the +hay-field in fine weather, you couldn’t tell what pleasant +work it is. The women look so pretty at it, too,” he +said, shyly; “so all things considered, I think we are +right to adorn it in a simple manner.”</p> +<p>“Do the women work at it in silk dresses?” said I, +smiling.</p> +<p>Dick was going to answer me soberly; but Clara put her hand +over his mouth, and said, “No, no, Dick; not too much +information for him, or I shall think that you are your old +kinsman again. Let him find out for himself: he will not +have long to wait.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” quoth Annie, “don’t make your +description of the picture too fine, or else he will be +disappointed when the curtain is drawn. I don’t want +him to be disappointed. But now it’s time for you to +be gone, if you are to have the best of the tide, and also of the +sunny morning. Good-bye, guest.”</p> +<p>She kissed me in her frank friendly way, and almost took away +from me my desire for the expedition thereby; but I had to get +over that, as it was clear that so delightful a woman would +hardly be without a due lover of her own age. We went down +the steps of the landing stage, and got into a pretty boat, not +too light to hold us and our belongings comfortably, and +handsomely ornamented; and just as we got in, down came Boffin +and the weaver to see us off. The former had now veiled his +splendour in a due suit of working clothes, crowned with a +fantail hat, which he took off, however, to wave us farewell with +his grave old-Spanish-like courtesy. Then Dick pushed off +into the stream, and bent vigorously to his sculls, and +Hammersmith, with its noble trees and beautiful water-side +houses, began to slip away from us.</p> +<p>As we went, I could not help putting beside his promised +picture of the hay-field as it was then the picture of it as I +remembered it, and especially the images of the women engaged in +the work rose up before me: the row of gaunt figures, lean, +flat-breasted, ugly, without a grace of form or face about them; +dressed in wretched skimpy print gowns, and hideous flapping +sun-bonnets, moving their rakes in a listless mechanical +way. How often had that marred the loveliness of the June +day to me; how often had I longed to see the hay-fields peopled +with men and women worthy of the sweet abundance of midsummer, of +its endless wealth of beautiful sights, and delicious sounds and +scents. And now, the world had grown old and wiser, and I +was to see my hope realised at last!</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII: HAMPTON COURT AND A PRAISER OF PAST TIMES</h2> +<p>So on we went, Dick rowing in an easy tireless way, and Clara +sitting by my side admiring his manly beauty and heartily +good-natured face, and thinking, I fancy, of nothing else. +As we went higher up the river, there was less difference between +the Thames of that day and Thames as I remembered it; for setting +aside the hideous vulgarity of the cockney villas of the +well-to-do, stockbrokers and other such, which in older time +marred the beauty of the bough-hung banks, even this beginning of +the country Thames was always beautiful; and as we slipped +between the lovely summer greenery, I almost felt my youth come +back to me, and as if I were on one of those water excursions +which I used to enjoy so much in days when I was too happy to +think that there could be much amiss anywhere.</p> +<p>At last we came to a reach of the river where on the left hand +a very pretty little village with some old houses in it came down +to the edge of the water, over which was a ferry; and beyond +these houses the elm-beset meadows ended in a fringe of tall +willows, while on the right hand went the tow-path and a clear +space before a row of trees, which rose up behind huge and +ancient, the ornaments of a great park: but these drew back still +further from the river at the end of the reach to make way for a +little town of quaint and pretty houses, some new, some old, +dominated by the long walls and sharp gables of a great red-brick +pile of building, partly of the latest Gothic, partly of the +court-style of Dutch William, but so blended together by the +bright sun and beautiful surroundings, including the bright blue +river, which it looked down upon, that even amidst the beautiful +buildings of that new happy time it had a strange charm about +it. A great wave of fragrance, amidst which the lime-tree +blossom was clearly to be distinguished, came down to us from its +unseen gardens, as Clara sat up in her place, and said:</p> +<p>“O Dick, dear, couldn’t we stop at Hampton Court +for to-day, and take the guest about the park a little, and show +him those sweet old buildings? Somehow, I suppose because +you have lived so near it, you have seldom taken me to Hampton +Court.”</p> +<p>Dick rested on his oars a little, and said: “Well, well, +Clara, you are lazy to-day. I didn’t feel like +stopping short of Shepperton for the night; suppose we just go +and have our dinner at the Court, and go on again about five +o’clock?”</p> +<p>“Well,” she said, “so be it; but I should +like the guest to have spent an hour or two in the +Park.”</p> +<p>“The Park!” said Dick; “why, the whole +Thames-side is a park this time of the year; and for my part, I +had rather lie under an elm-tree on the borders of a wheat-field, +with the bees humming about me and the corn-crake crying from +furrow to furrow, than in any park in England. +Besides—”</p> +<p>“Besides,” said she, “you want to get on to +your dearly-loved upper Thames, and show your prowess down the +heavy swathes of the mowing grass.”</p> +<p>She looked at him fondly, and I could tell that she was seeing +him in her mind’s eye showing his splendid form at its best +amidst the rhymed strokes of the scythes; and she looked down at +her own pretty feet with a half sigh, as though she were +contrasting her slight woman’s beauty with his man’s +beauty; as women will when they are really in love, and are not +spoiled with conventional sentiment.</p> +<p>As for Dick, he looked at her admiringly a while, and then +said at last: “Well, Clara, I do wish we were there! +But, hilloa! we are getting back way.” And he set to +work sculling again, and in two minutes we were all standing on +the gravelly strand below the bridge, which, as you may imagine, +was no longer the old hideous iron abortion, but a handsome piece +of very solid oak framing.</p> +<p>We went into the Court and straight into the great hall, so +well remembered, where there were tables spread for dinner, and +everything arranged much as in Hammersmith Guest-Hall. +Dinner over, we sauntered through the ancient rooms, where the +pictures and tapestry were still preserved, and nothing was much +changed, except that the people whom we met there had an +indefinable kind of look of being at home and at ease, which +communicated itself to me, so that I felt that the beautiful old +place was mine in the best sense of the word; and my pleasure of +past days seemed to add itself to that of to-day, and filled my +whole soul with content.</p> +<p>Dick (who, in spite of Clara’s gibe, knew the place very +well) told me that the beautiful old Tudor rooms, which I +remembered had been the dwellings of the lesser fry of Court +flunkies, were now much used by people coming and going; for, +beautiful as architecture had now become, and although the whole +face of the country had quite recovered its beauty, there was +still a sort of tradition of pleasure and beauty which clung to +that group of buildings, and people thought going to Hampton +Court a necessary summer outing, as they did in the days when +London was so grimy and miserable. We went into some of the +rooms looking into the old garden, and were well received by the +people in them, who got speedily into talk with us, and looked +with politely half-concealed wonder at my strange face. +Besides these birds of passage, and a few regular dwellers in the +place, we saw out in the meadows near the garden, down “the +Long Water,” as it used to be called, many gay tents with +men, women, and children round about them. As it seemed, +this pleasure-loving people were fond of tent-life, with all its +inconveniences, which, indeed, they turned into pleasure +also.</p> +<p>We left this old friend by the time appointed, and I made some +feeble show of taking the sculls; but Dick repulsed me, not much +to my grief, I must say, as I found I had quite enough to do +between the enjoyment of the beautiful time and my own lazily +blended thoughts.</p> +<p>As to Dick, it was quite right to let him pull, for he was as +strong as a horse, and had the greatest delight in bodily +exercise, whatever it was. We really had some difficulty in +getting him to stop when it was getting rather more than dusk, +and the moon was brightening just as we were off Runnymede. +We landed there, and were looking about for a place whereon to +pitch our tents (for we had brought two with us), when an old man +came up to us, bade us good evening, and asked if we were housed +for that that night; and finding that we were not, bade us home +to his house. Nothing loth, we went with him, and Clara +took his hand in a coaxing way which I noticed she used with old +men; and as we went on our way, made some commonplace remark +about the beauty of the day. The old man stopped short, and +looked at her and said: “You really like it +then?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” she said, looking very much astonished, +“Don’t you?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “perhaps I do. I did, +at any rate, when I was younger; but now I think I should like it +cooler.”</p> +<p>She said nothing, and went on, the night growing about as dark +as it would be; till just at the rise of the hill we came to a +hedge with a gate in it, which the old man unlatched and led us +into a garden, at the end of which we could see a little house, +one of whose little windows was already yellow with +candlelight. We could see even under the doubtful light of +the moon and the last of the western glow that the garden was +stuffed full of flowers; and the fragrance it gave out in the +gathering coolness was so wonderfully sweet, that it seemed the +very heart of the delight of the June dusk; so that we three +stopped instinctively, and Clara gave forth a little sweet +“O,” like a bird beginning to sing.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” said the old man, a +little testily, and pulling at her hand. +“There’s no dog; or have you trodden on a thorn and +hurt your foot?”</p> +<p>“No, no, neighbour,” she said; “but how +sweet, how sweet it is!”</p> +<p>“Of course it is,” said he, “but do you care +so much for that?”</p> +<p>She laughed out musically, and we followed suit in our gruffer +voices; and then she said: “Of course I do, neighbour; +don’t you?”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t know,” quoth the old fellow; +then he added, as if somewhat ashamed of himself: “Besides, +you know, when the waters are out and all Runnymede is flooded, +it’s none so pleasant.”</p> +<p>“<i>I</i> should like it,” quoth Dick. +“What a jolly sail one would get about here on the floods +on a bright frosty January morning!”</p> +<p>“<i>Would</i> you like it?” said our host. +“Well, I won’t argue with you, neighbour; it +isn’t worth while. Come in and have some +supper.”</p> +<p>We went up a paved path between the roses, and straight into a +very pretty room, panelled and carved, and as clean as a new pin; +but the chief ornament of which was a young woman, light-haired +and grey-eyed, but with her face and hands and bare feet tanned +quite brown with the sun. Though she was very lightly clad, +that was clearly from choice, not from poverty, though these were +the first cottage-dwellers I had come across; for her gown was of +silk, and on her wrists were bracelets that seemed to me of great +value. She was lying on a sheep-skin near the window, but +jumped up as soon as we entered, and when she saw the guests +behind the old man, she clapped her hands and cried out with +pleasure, and when she got us into the middle of the room, fairly +danced round us in delight of our company.</p> +<p>“What!” said the old man, “you are pleased, +are you, Ellen?”</p> +<p>The girl danced up to him and threw her arms round him, and +said: “Yes I am, and so ought you to be +grandfather.”</p> +<p>“Well, well, I am,” said he, “as much as I +can be pleased. Guests, please be seated.”</p> +<p>This seemed rather strange to us; stranger, I suspect, to my +friends than to me; but Dick took the opportunity of both the +host and his grand-daughter being out of the room to say to me, +softly: “A grumbler: there are a few of them still. +Once upon a time, I am told, they were quite a +nuisance.”</p> +<p>The old man came in as he spoke and sat down beside us with a +sigh, which, indeed, seemed fetched up as if he wanted us to take +notice of it; but just then the girl came in with the victuals, +and the carle missed his mark, what between our hunger generally +and that I was pretty busy watching the grand-daughter moving +about as beautiful as a picture.</p> +<p>Everything to eat and drink, though it was somewhat different +to what we had had in London, was better than good, but the old +man eyed rather sulkily the chief dish on the table, on which lay +a leash of fine perch, and said:</p> +<p>“H’m, perch! I am sorry we can’t do +better for you, guests. The time was when we might have had +a good piece of salmon up from London for you; but the times have +grown mean and petty.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but you might have had it now,” said the +girl, giggling, “if you had known that they were +coming.”</p> +<p>“It’s our fault for not bringing it with us, +neighbours,” said Dick, good-humouredly. “But +if the times have grown petty, at any rate the perch +haven’t; that fellow in the middle there must have weighed +a good two pounds when he was showing his dark stripes and red +fins to the minnows yonder. And as to the salmon, why, +neighbour, my friend here, who comes from the outlands, was quite +surprised yesterday morning when I told him we had plenty of +salmon at Hammersmith. I am sure I have heard nothing of +the times worsening.”</p> +<p>He looked a little uncomfortable. And the old man, +turning to me, said very courteously:</p> +<p>“Well, sir, I am happy to see a man from over the water; +but I really must appeal to you to say whether on the whole you +are not better off in your country; where I suppose, from what +our guest says, you are brisker and more alive, because you have +not wholly got rid of competition. You see, I have read not +a few books of the past days, and certainly <i>they</i> are much +more alive than those which are written now; and good sound +unlimited competition was the condition under which they were +written,—if we didn’t know that from the record of +history, we should know it from the books themselves. There +is a spirit of adventure in them, and signs of a capacity to +extract good out of evil which our literature quite lacks now; +and I cannot help thinking that our moralists and historians +exaggerate hugely the unhappiness of the past days, in which such +splendid works of imagination and intellect were +produced.”</p> +<p>Clara listened to him with restless eyes, as if she were +excited and pleased; Dick knitted his brow and looked still more +uncomfortable, but said nothing. Indeed, the old man +gradually, as he warmed to his subject, dropped his sneering +manner, and both spoke and looked very seriously. But the +girl broke out before I could deliver myself of the answer I was +framing:</p> +<p>“Books, books! always books, grandfather! When +will you understand that after all it is the world we live in +which interests us; the world of which we are a part, and which +we can never love too much? Look!” she said, throwing +open the casement wider and showing us the white light sparkling +between the black shadows of the moonlit garden, through which +ran a little shiver of the summer night-wind, “look! these +are our books in these days!—and these,” she said, +stepping lightly up to the two lovers and laying a hand on each +of their shoulders; “and the guest there, with his over-sea +knowledge and experience;—yes, and even you, +grandfather” (a smile ran over her face as she spoke), +“with all your grumbling and wishing yourself back again in +the good old days,—in which, as far as I can make out, a +harmless and lazy old man like you would either have pretty +nearly starved, or have had to pay soldiers and people to take +the folk’s victuals and clothes and houses away from them +by force. Yes, these are our books; and if we want more, +can we not find work to do in the beautiful buildings that we +raise up all over the country (and I know there was nothing like +them in past times), wherein a man can put forth whatever is in +him, and make his hands set forth his mind and his +soul.”</p> +<p>She paused a little, and I for my part could not help staring +at her, and thinking that if she were a book, the pictures in it +were most lovely. The colour mantled in her delicate +sunburnt cheeks; her grey eyes, light amidst the tan of her face, +kindly looked on us all as she spoke. She paused, and said +again:</p> +<p>“As for your books, they were well enough for times when +intelligent people had but little else in which they could take +pleasure, and when they must needs supplement the sordid miseries +of their own lives with imaginations of the lives of other +people. But I say flatly that in spite of all their +cleverness and vigour, and capacity for story-telling, there is +something loathsome about them. Some of them, indeed, do +here and there show some feeling for those whom the history-books +call ‘poor,’ and of the misery of whose lives we have +some inkling; but presently they give it up, and towards the end +of the story we must be contented to see the hero and heroine +living happily in an island of bliss on other people’s +troubles; and that after a long series of sham troubles (or +mostly sham) of their own making, illustrated by dreary +introspective nonsense about their feelings and aspirations, and +all the rest of it; while the world must even then have gone on +its way, and dug and sewed and baked and built and carpentered +round about these useless—animals.”</p> +<p>“There!” said the old man, reverting to his dry +sulky manner again. “There’s eloquence! I +suppose you like it?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, very emphatically.</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “now the storm of eloquence +has lulled for a little, suppose you answer my +question?—that is, if you like, you know,” quoth he, +with a sudden access of courtesy.</p> +<p>“What question?” said I. For I must confess +that Ellen’s strange and almost wild beauty had put it out +of my head.</p> +<p>Said he: “First of all (excuse my catechising), is there +competition in life, after the old kind, in the country whence +you come?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “it is the rule +there.” And I wondered as I spoke what fresh +complications I should get into as a result of this answer.</p> +<p>“Question two,” said the carle: “Are you not +on the whole much freer, more energetic—in a word, +healthier and happier—for it?”</p> +<p>I smiled. “You wouldn’t talk so if you had +any idea of our life. To me you seem here as if you were +living in heaven compared with us of the country from which I +came.”</p> +<p>“Heaven?” said he: “you like heaven, do +you?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I—snappishly, I am afraid; for I +was beginning rather to resent his formula.</p> +<p>“Well, I am far from sure that I do,” quoth +he. “I think one may do more with one’s life +than sitting on a damp cloud and singing hymns.”</p> +<p>I was rather nettled by this inconsequence, and said: +“Well, neighbour, to be short, and without using metaphors, +in the land whence I come, where the competition which produced +those literary works which you admire so much is still the rule, +most people are thoroughly unhappy; here, to me at least most +people seem thoroughly happy.”</p> +<p>“No offence, guest—no offence,” said he; +“but let me ask you; you like that, do you?”</p> +<p>His formula, put with such obstinate persistence, made us all +laugh heartily; and even the old man joined in the laughter on +the sly. However, he was by no means beaten, and said +presently:</p> +<p>“From all I can hear, I should judge that a young woman +so beautiful as my dear Ellen yonder would have been a lady, as +they called it in the old time, and wouldn’t have had to +wear a few rags of silk as she does now, or to have browned +herself in the sun as she has to do now. What do you say to +that, eh?”</p> +<p>Here Clara, who had been pretty much silent hitherto, struck +in, and said: “Well, really, I don’t think that you +would have mended matters, or that they want mending. +Don’t you see that she is dressed deliciously for this +beautiful weather? And as for the sun-burning of your +hay-fields, why, I hope to pick up some of that for myself when +we get a little higher up the river. Look if I don’t +need a little sun on my pasty white skin!”</p> +<p>And she stripped up the sleeve from her arm and laid it beside +Ellen’s who was now sitting next her. To say the +truth, it was rather amusing to me to see Clara putting herself +forward as a town-bred fine lady, for she was as well-knit and +clean-skinned a girl as might be met with anywhere at the +best. Dick stroked the beautiful arm rather shyly, and +pulled down the sleeve again, while she blushed at his touch; and +the old man said laughingly: “Well, I suppose you <i>do</i> +like that; don’t you?”</p> +<p>Ellen kissed her new friend, and we all sat silent for a +little, till she broke out into a sweet shrill song, and held us +all entranced with the wonder of her clear voice; and the old +grumbler sat looking at her lovingly. The other young +people sang also in due time; and then Ellen showed us to our +beds in small cottage chambers, fragrant and clean as the ideal +of the old pastoral poets; and the pleasure of the evening quite +extinguished my fear of the last night, that I should wake up in +the old miserable world of worn-out pleasures, and hopes that +were half fears.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII: AN EARLY MORNING BY RUNNYMEDE</h2> +<p>Though there were no rough noises to wake me, I could not lie +long abed the next morning, where the world seemed so well awake, +and, despite the old grumbler, so happy; so I got up, and found +that, early as it was, someone had been stirring, since all was +trim and in its place in the little parlour, and the table laid +for the morning meal. Nobody was afoot in the house as +then, however, so I went out a-doors, and after a turn or two +round the superabundant garden, I wandered down over the meadow +to the river-side, where lay our boat, looking quite familiar and +friendly to me. I walked up stream a little, watching the +light mist curling up from the river till the sun gained power to +draw it all away; saw the bleak speckling the water under the +willow boughs, whence the tiny flies they fed on were falling in +myriads; heard the great chub splashing here and there at some +belated moth or other, and felt almost back again in my +boyhood. Then I went back again to the boat, and loitered +there a minute or two, and then walked slowly up the meadow +towards the little house. I noted now that there were four +more houses of about the same size on the slope away from the +river. The meadow in which I was going was not up for hay; +but a row of flake-hurdles ran up the slope not far from me on +each side, and in the field so parted off from ours on the left +they were making hay busily by now, in the simple fashion of the +days when I was a boy. My feet turned that way +instinctively, as I wanted to see how haymakers looked in these +new and better times, and also I rather expected to see Ellen +there. I came to the hurdles and stood looking over into +the hay-field, and was close to the end of the long line of +haymakers who were spreading the low ridges to dry off the night +dew. The majority of these were young women clad much like +Ellen last night, though not mostly in silk, but in light woollen +mostly gaily embroidered; the men being all clad in white flannel +embroidered in bright colours. The meadow looked like a +gigantic tulip-bed because of them. All hands were working +deliberately but well and steadily, though they were as noisy +with merry talk as a grove of autumn starlings. Half a +dozen of them, men and women, came up to me and shook hands, gave +me the sele of the morning, and asked a few questions as to +whence and whither, and wishing me good luck, went back to their +work. Ellen, to my disappointment, was not amongst them, +but presently I saw a light figure come out of the hay-field +higher up the slope, and make for our house; and that was Ellen, +holding a basket in her hand. But before she had come to +the garden gate, out came Dick and Clara, who, after a +minute’s pause, came down to meet me, leaving Ellen in the +garden; then we three went down to the boat, talking mere morning +prattle. We stayed there a little, Dick arranging some of +the matters in her, for we had only taken up to the house such +things as we thought the dew might damage; and then we went +toward the house again; but when we came near the garden, Dick +stopped us by laying a hand on my arm and said,—</p> +<p>“Just look a moment.”</p> +<p>I looked, and over the low hedge saw Ellen, shading her eyes +against the sun as she looked toward the hay-field, a light wind +stirring in her tawny hair, her eyes like light jewels amidst her +sunburnt face, which looked as if the warmth of the sun were yet +in it.</p> +<p>“Look, guest,” said Dick; “doesn’t it +all look like one of those very stories out of Grimm that we were +talking about up in Bloomsbury? Here are we two lovers +wandering about the world, and we have come to a fairy garden, +and there is the very fairy herself amidst of it: I wonder what +she will do for us.”</p> +<p>Said Clara demurely, but not stiffly: “Is she a good +fairy, Dick?”</p> +<p>“O, yes,” said he; “and according to the +card, she would do better, if it were not for the gnome or +wood-spirit, our grumbling friend of last night.”</p> +<p>We laughed at this; and I said, “I hope you see that you +have left me out of the tale.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “that’s true. +You had better consider that you have got the cap of darkness, +and are seeing everything, yourself invisible.”</p> +<p>That touched me on my weak side of not feeling sure of my +position in this beautiful new country; so in order not to make +matters worse, I held my tongue, and we all went into the garden +and up to the house together. I noticed by the way that +Clara must really rather have felt the contrast between herself +as a town madam and this piece of the summer country that we all +admired so, for she had rather dressed after Ellen that morning +as to thinness and scantiness, and went barefoot also, except for +light sandals.</p> +<p>The old man greeted us kindly in the parlour, and said: +“Well, guests, so you have been looking about to search +into the nakedness of the land: I suppose your illusions of last +night have given way a bit before the morning light? Do you +still like, it, eh?”</p> +<p>“Very much,” said I, doggedly; “it is one of +the prettiest places on the lower Thames.”</p> +<p>“Oho!” said he; “so you know the Thames, do +you?”</p> +<p>I reddened, for I saw Dick and Clara looking at me, and +scarcely knew what to say. However, since I had said in our +early intercourse with my Hammersmith friends that I had known +Epping Forest, I thought a hasty generalisation might be better +in avoiding complications than a downright lie; so I +said—</p> +<p>“I have been in this country before; and I have been on +the Thames in those days.”</p> +<p>“O,” said the old man, eagerly, “so you have +been in this country before. Now really, don’t you +<i>find</i> it (apart from all theory, you know) much changed for +the worse?”</p> +<p>“No, not at all,” said I; “I find it much +changed for the better.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” quoth he, “I fear that you have been +prejudiced by some theory or another. However, of course +the time when you were here before must have been so near our own +days that the deterioration might not be very great: as then we +were, of course, still living under the same customs as we are +now. I was thinking of earlier days than that.”</p> +<p>“In short,” said Clara, “you have +<i>theories</i> about the change which has taken +place.”</p> +<p>“I have facts as well,” said he. “Look +here! from this hill you can see just four little houses, +including this one. Well, I know for certain that in old +times, even in the summer, when the leaves were thickest, you +could see from the same place six quite big and fine houses; and +higher up the water, garden joined garden right up to Windsor; +and there were big houses in all the gardens. Ah! +England was an important place in those days.”</p> +<p>I was getting nettled, and said: “What you mean is that +you de-cockneyised the place, and sent the damned flunkies +packing, and that everybody can live comfortably and happily, and +not a few damned thieves only, who were centres of vulgarity and +corruption wherever they were, and who, as to this lovely river, +destroyed its beauty morally, and had almost destroyed it +physically, when they were thrown out of it.”</p> +<p>There was silence after this outburst, which for the life of +me I could not help, remembering how I had suffered from +cockneyism and its cause on those same waters of old time. +But at last the old man said, quite coolly:</p> +<p>“My dear guest, I really don’t know what you mean +by either cockneys, or flunkies, or thieves, or damned; or how +only a few people could live happily and comfortably in a wealthy +country. All I can see is that you are angry, and I fear +with me: so if you like we will change the subject.”</p> +<p>I thought this kind and hospitable in him, considering his +obstinacy about his theory; and hastened to say that I did not +mean to be angry, only emphatic. He bowed gravely, and I +thought the storm was over, when suddenly Ellen broke in:</p> +<p>“Grandfather, our guest is reticent from courtesy; but +really what he has in his mind to say to you ought to be said; so +as I know pretty well what it is, I will say it for him: for as +you know, I have been taught these things by people +who—”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the old man, “by the sage of +Bloomsbury, and others.”</p> +<p>“O,” said Dick, “so you know my old kinsman +Hammond?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said she, “and other people too, as +my grandfather says, and they have taught me things: and this is +the upshot of it. We live in a little house now, not +because we have nothing grander to do than working in the fields, +but because we please; for if we liked, we could go and live in a +big house amongst pleasant companions.”</p> +<p>Grumbled the old man: “Just so! As if I would live +amongst those conceited fellows; all of them looking down upon +me!”</p> +<p>She smiled on him kindly, but went on as if he had not +spoken. “In the past times, when those big houses of +which grandfather speaks were so plenty, we <i>must</i> have +lived in a cottage whether we had liked it or not; and the said +cottage, instead of having in it everything we want, would have +been bare and empty. We should not have got enough to eat; +our clothes would have been ugly to look at, dirty and +frowsy. You, grandfather, have done no hard work for years +now, but wander about and read your books and have nothing to +worry you; and as for me, I work hard when I like it, because I +like it, and think it does me good, and knits up my muscles, and +makes me prettier to look at, and healthier and happier. +But in those past days you, grandfather, would have had to work +hard after you were old; and would have been always afraid of +having to be shut up in a kind of prison along with other old +men, half-starved and without amusement. And as for me, I +am twenty years old. In those days my middle age would be +beginning now, and in a few years I should be pinched, thin, and +haggard, beset with troubles and miseries, so that no one could +have guessed that I was once a beautiful girl.</p> +<p>“Is this what you have had in your mind, guest?” +said she, the tears in her eyes at thought of the past miseries +of people like herself.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, much moved; “that and +more. Often—in my country I have seen that wretched +change you have spoken of, from the fresh handsome country lass +to the poor draggle-tailed country woman.”</p> +<p>The old man sat silent for a little, but presently recovered +himself and took comfort in his old phrase of “Well, you +like it so, do you?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Ellen, “I love life better than +death.”</p> +<p>“O, you do, do you?” said he. “Well, +for my part I like reading a good old book with plenty of fun in +it, like Thackeray’s ‘Vanity Fair.’ Why +don’t you write books like that now? Ask that +question of your Bloomsbury sage.”</p> +<p>Seeing Dick’s cheeks reddening a little at this sally, +and noting that silence followed, I thought I had better do +something. So I said: “I am only the guest, friends; +but I know you want to show me your river at its best, so +don’t you think we had better be moving presently, as it is +certainly going to be a hot day?”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV: UP THE THAMES: THE SECOND DAY</h2> +<p>They were not slow to take my hint; and indeed, as to the mere +time of day, it was best for us to be off, as it was past seven +o’clock, and the day promised to be very hot. So we +got up and went down to our boat—Ellen thoughtful and +abstracted; the old man very kind and courteous, as if to make up +for his crabbedness of opinion. Clara was cheerful and +natural, but a little subdued, I thought; and she at least was +not sorry to be gone, and often looked shyly and timidly at Ellen +and her strange wild beauty. So we got into the boat, Dick +saying as he took his place, “Well, it <i>is</i> a fine +day!” and the old man answering “What! you like that, +do you?” once more; and presently Dick was sending the bows +swiftly through the slow weed-checked stream. I turned +round as we got into mid-stream, and waving my hand to our hosts, +saw Ellen leaning on the old man’s shoulder, and caressing +his healthy apple-red cheek, and quite a keen pang smote me as I +thought how I should never see the beautiful girl again. +Presently I insisted on taking the sculls, and I rowed a good +deal that day; which no doubt accounts for the fact that we got +very late to the place which Dick had aimed at. Clara was +particularly affectionate to Dick, as I noticed from the rowing +thwart; but as for him, he was as frankly kind and merry as ever; +and I was glad to see it, as a man of his temperament could not +have taken her caresses cheerfully and without embarrassment if +he had been at all entangled by the fairy of our last +night’s abode.</p> +<p>I need say little about the lovely reaches of the river +here. I duly noted that absence of cockney villas which the +old man had lamented; and I saw with pleasure that my old enemies +the “Gothic” cast-iron bridges had been replaced by +handsome oak and stone ones. Also the banks of the forest +that we passed through had lost their courtly game-keeperish +trimness, and were as wild and beautiful as need be, though the +trees were clearly well seen to. I thought it best, in +order to get the most direct information, to play the innocent +about Eton and Windsor; but Dick volunteered his knowledge to me +as we lay in Datchet lock about the first. Quoth he:</p> +<p>“Up yonder are some beautiful old buildings, which were +built for a great college or teaching-place by one of the +mediæval kings—Edward the Sixth, I think” (I +smiled to myself at his rather natural blunder). “He +meant poor people’s sons to be taught there what knowledge +was going in his days; but it was a matter of course that in the +times of which you seem to know so much they spoilt whatever good +there was in the founder’s intentions. My old kinsman +says that they treated them in a very simple way, and instead of +teaching poor men’s sons to know something, they taught +rich men’s sons to know nothing. It seems from what +he says that it was a place for the ‘aristocracy’ (if +you know what that word means; I have been told its meaning) to +get rid of the company of their male children for a great part of +the year. I daresay old Hammond would give you plenty of +information in detail about it.”</p> +<p>“What is it used for now?” said I.</p> +<p>“Well,” said he, “the buildings were a good +deal spoilt by the last few generations of aristocrats, who seem +to have had a great hatred against beautiful old buildings, and +indeed all records of past history; but it is still a delightful +place. Of course, we cannot use it quite as the founder +intended, since our ideas about teaching young people are so +changed from the ideas of his time; so it is used now as a +dwelling for people engaged in learning; and folk from round +about come and get taught things that they want to learn; and +there is a great library there of the best books. So that I +don’t think that the old dead king would be much hurt if he +were to come to life and see what we are doing there.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Clara, laughing, “I think he +would miss the boys.”</p> +<p>“Not always, my dear,” said Dick, “for there +are often plenty of boys there, who come to get taught; and +also,” said he, smiling, “to learn boating and +swimming. I wish we could stop there: but perhaps we had +better do that coming down the water.”</p> +<p>The lock-gates opened as he spoke, and out we went, and +on. And as for Windsor, he said nothing till I lay on my +oars (for I was sculling then) in Clewer reach, and looking up, +said, “What is all that building up there?”</p> +<p>Said he: “There, I thought I would wait till you asked, +yourself. That is Windsor Castle: that also I thought I +would keep for you till we come down the water. It looks +fine from here, doesn’t it? But a great deal of it +has been built or skinned in the time of the Degradation, and we +wouldn’t pull the buildings down, since they were there; +just as with the buildings of the Dung-Market. You know, of +course, that it was the palace of our old mediæval kings, +and was used later on for the same purpose by the parliamentary +commercial sham-kings, as my old kinsman calls them.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “I know all that. What +is it used for now?”</p> +<p>“A great many people live there,” said he, +“as, with all drawbacks, it is a pleasant place; there is +also a well-arranged store of antiquities of various kinds that +have seemed worth keeping—a museum, it would have been +called in the times you understand so well.”</p> +<p>I drew my sculls through the water at that last word, and +pulled as if I were fleeing from those times which I understood +so well; and we were soon going up the once sorely be-cockneyed +reaches of the river about Maidenhead, which now looked as +pleasant and enjoyable as the up-river reaches.</p> +<p>The morning was now getting on, the morning of a jewel of a +summer day; one of those days which, if they were commoner in +these islands, would make our climate the best of all climates, +without dispute. A light wind blew from the west; the +little clouds that had arisen at about our breakfast time had +seemed to get higher and higher in the heavens; and in spite of +the burning sun we no more longed for rain than we feared +it. Burning as the sun was, there was a fresh feeling in +the air that almost set us a-longing for the rest of the hot +afternoon, and the stretch of blossoming wheat seen from the +shadow of the boughs. No one unburdened with very heavy +anxieties could have felt otherwise than happy that morning: and +it must be said that whatever anxieties might lie beneath the +surface of things, we didn’t seem to come across any of +them.</p> +<p>We passed by several fields where haymaking was going on, but +Dick, and especially Clara, were so jealous of our up-river +festival that they would not allow me to have much to say to +them. I could only notice that the people in the fields +looked strong and handsome, both men and women, and that so far +from there being any appearance of sordidness about their attire, +they seemed to be dressed specially for the +occasion,—lightly, of course, but gaily and with plenty of +adornment.</p> +<p>Both on this day as well as yesterday we had, as you may +think, met and passed and been passed by many craft of one kind +and another. The most part of these were being rowed like +ourselves, or were sailing, in the sort of way that sailing is +managed on the upper reaches of the river; but every now and then +we came on barges, laden with hay or other country produce, or +carrying bricks, lime, timber, and the like, and these were going +on their way without any means of propulsion visible to +me—just a man at the tiller, with often a friend or two +laughing and talking with him. Dick, seeing on one occasion +this day, that I was looking rather hard on one of these, said: +“That is one of our force-barges; it is quite as easy to +work vehicles by force by water as by land.”</p> +<p>I understood pretty well that these “force +vehicles” had taken the place of our old steam-power +carrying; but I took good care not to ask any questions about +them, as I knew well enough both that I should never be able to +understand how they were worked, and that in attempting to do so +I should betray myself, or get into some complication impossible +to explain; so I merely said, “Yes, of course, I +understand.”</p> +<p>We went ashore at Bisham, where the remains of the old Abbey +and the Elizabethan house that had been added to them yet +remained, none the worse for many years of careful and +appreciative habitation. The folk of the place, however, +were mostly in the fields that day, both men and women; so we met +only two old men there, and a younger one who had stayed at home +to get on with some literary work, which I imagine we +considerably interrupted. Yet I also think that the +hard-working man who received us was not very sorry for the +interruption. Anyhow, he kept on pressing us to stay over +and over again, till at last we did not get away till the cool of +the evening.</p> +<p>However, that mattered little to us; the nights were light, +for the moon was shining in her third quarter, and it was all one +to Dick whether he sculled or sat quiet in the boat: so we went +away a great pace. The evening sun shone bright on the +remains of the old buildings at Medmenham; close beside which +arose an irregular pile of building which Dick told us was a very +pleasant house; and there were plenty of houses visible on the +wide meadows opposite, under the hill; for, as it seems that the +beauty of Hurley had compelled people to build and live there a +good deal. The sun very low down showed us Henley little +altered in outward aspect from what I remembered it. Actual +daylight failed us as we passed through the lovely reaches of +Wargrave and Shiplake; but the moon rose behind us +presently. I should like to have seen with my eyes what +success the new order of things had had in getting rid of the +sprawling mess with which commercialism had littered the banks of +the wide stream about Reading and Caversham: certainly everything +smelt too deliciously in the early night for there to be any of +the old careless sordidness of so-called manufacture; and in +answer to my question as to what sort of a place Reading was, +Dick answered:</p> +<p>“O, a nice town enough in its way; mostly rebuilt within +the last hundred years; and there are a good many houses, as you +can see by the lights just down under the hills yonder. In +fact, it is one of the most populous places on the Thames round +about here. Keep up your spirits, guest! we are close to +our journey’s end for the night. I ought to ask your +pardon for not stopping at one of the houses here or higher up; +but a friend, who is living in a very pleasant house in the +Maple-Durham meads, particularly wanted me and Clara to come and +see him on our way up the Thames; and I thought you +wouldn’t mind this bit of night travelling.”</p> +<p>He need not have adjured me to keep up my spirits, which were +as high as possible; though the strangeness and excitement of the +happy and quiet life which I saw everywhere around me was, it is +true, a little wearing off, yet a deep content, as different as +possible from languid acquiescence, was taking its place, and I +was, as it were, really new-born.</p> +<p>We landed presently just where I remembered the river making +an elbow to the north towards the ancient house of the Blunts; +with the wide meadows spreading on the right-hand side, and on +the left the long line of beautiful old trees overhanging the +water. As we got out of the boat, I said to Dick—</p> +<p>“Is it the old house we are going to?”</p> +<p>“No,” he said, “though that is standing +still in green old age, and is well inhabited. I see, by +the way, that you know your Thames well. But my friend +Walter Allen, who asked me to stop here, lives in a house, not +very big, which has been built here lately, because these meadows +are so much liked, especially in summer, that there was getting +to be rather too much of tenting on the open field; so the +parishes here about, who rather objected to that, built three +houses between this and Caversham, and quite a large one at +Basildon, a little higher up. Look, yonder are the lights +of Walter Allen’s house!”</p> +<p>So we walked over the grass of the meadows under a flood of +moonlight, and soon came to the house, which was low and built +round a quadrangle big enough to get plenty of sunshine in +it. Walter Allen, Dick’s friend, was leaning against +the jamb of the doorway waiting for us, and took us into the hall +without overplus of words. There were not many people in +it, as some of the dwellers there were away at the haymaking in +the neighbourhood, and some, as Walter told us, were wandering +about the meadow enjoying the beautiful moonlit night. +Dick’s friend looked to be a man of about forty; tall, +black-haired, very kind-looking and thoughtful; but rather to my +surprise there was a shade of melancholy on his face, and he +seemed a little abstracted and inattentive to our chat, in spite +of obvious efforts to listen.</p> +<p>Dick looked on him from time to time, and seemed troubled; and +at last he said: “I say, old fellow, if there is anything +the matter which we didn’t know of when you wrote to me, +don’t you think you had better tell us about it at +once? Or else we shall think we have come here at an +unlucky time, and are not quite wanted.”</p> +<p>Walter turned red, and seemed to have some difficulty in +restraining his tears, but said at last: “Of course +everybody here is very glad to see you, Dick, and your friends; +but it is true that we are not at our best, in spite of the fine +weather and the glorious hay-crop. We have had a death +here.”</p> +<p>Said Dick: “Well, you should get over that, neighbour: +such things must be.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” Walter said, “but this was a death by +violence, and it seems likely to lead to at least one more; and +somehow it makes us feel rather shy of one another; and to say +the truth, that is one reason why there are so few of us present +to-night.”</p> +<p>“Tell us the story, Walter,” said Dick; +“perhaps telling it will help you to shake off your +sadness.”</p> +<p>Said Walter: “Well, I will; and I will make it short +enough, though I daresay it might be spun out into a long one, as +used to be done with such subjects in the old novels. There +is a very charming girl here whom we all like, and whom some of +us do more than like; and she very naturally liked one of us +better than anybody else. And another of us (I won’t +name him) got fairly bitten with love-madness, and used to go +about making himself as unpleasant as he could—not of +malice prepense, of course; so that the girl, who liked him well +enough at first, though she didn’t love him, began fairly +to dislike him. Of course, those of us who knew him +best—myself amongst others—advised him to go away, as +he was making matters worse and worse for himself every +day. Well, he wouldn’t take our advice (that also, I +suppose, was a matter of course), so we had to tell him that he +<i>must</i> go, or the inevitable sending to Coventry would +follow; for his individual trouble had so overmastered him that +we felt that <i>we</i> must go if he did not.</p> +<p>“He took that better than we expected, when something or +other—an interview with the girl, I think, and some hot +words with the successful lover following close upon it, threw +him quite off his balance; and he got hold of an axe and fell +upon his rival when there was no one by; and in the struggle that +followed the man attacked, hit him an unlucky blow and killed +him. And now the slayer in his turn is so upset that he is +like to kill himself; and if he does, the girl will do as much, I +fear. And all this we could no more help than the +earthquake of the year before last.”</p> +<p>“It is very unhappy,” said Dick; “but since +the man is dead, and cannot be brought to life again, and since +the slayer had no malice in him, I cannot for the life of me see +why he shouldn’t get over it before long. Besides, it +was the right man that was killed and not the wrong. Why +should a man brood over a mere accident for ever? And the +girl?”</p> +<p>“As to her,” said Walter, “the whole thing +seems to have inspired her with terror rather than grief. +What you say about the man is true, or it should be; but then, +you see, the excitement and jealousy that was the prelude to this +tragedy had made an evil and feverish element round about him, +from which he does not seem to be able to escape. However, +we have advised him to go away—in fact, to cross the seas; +but he is in such a state that I do not think he <i>can</i> go +unless someone <i>takes</i> him, and I think it will fall to my +lot to do so; which is scarcely a cheerful outlook for +me.”</p> +<p>“O, you will find a certain kind of interest in +it,” said Dick. “And of course he <i>must</i> +soon look upon the affair from a reasonable point of view sooner +or later.”</p> +<p>“Well, at any rate,” quoth Walter, “now that +I have eased my mind by making you uncomfortable, let us have an +end of the subject for the present. Are you going to take +your guest to Oxford?”</p> +<p>“Why, of course we must pass through it,” said +Dick, smiling, “as we are going into the upper waters: but +I thought that we wouldn’t stop there, or we shall be +belated as to the haymaking up our way. So Oxford and my +learned lecture on it, all got at second-hand from my old +kinsman, must wait till we come down the water a fortnight +hence.”</p> +<p>I listened to this story with much surprise, and could not +help wondering at first that the man who had slain the other had +not been put in custody till it could be proved that he killed +his rival in self-defence only. However, the more I thought +of it, the plainer it grew to me that no amount of examination of +witnesses, who had witnessed nothing but the ill-blood between +the two rivals, would have done anything to clear up the +case. I could not help thinking, also, that the remorse of +this homicide gave point to what old Hammond had said to me about +the way in which this strange people dealt with what I had been +used to hear called crimes. Truly, the remorse was +exaggerated; but it was quite clear that the slayer took the +whole consequences of the act upon himself, and did not expect +society to whitewash him by punishing him. I had no fear +any longer that “the sacredness of human life” was +likely to suffer amongst my friends from the absence of gallows +and prison.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV: THE THIRD DAY ON THE THAMES</h2> +<p>As we went down to the boat next morning, Walter could not +quite keep off the subject of last night, though he was more +hopeful than he had been then, and seemed to think that if the +unlucky homicide could not be got to go over-sea, he might at any +rate go and live somewhere in the neighbourhood pretty much by +himself; at any rate, that was what he himself had +proposed. To Dick, and I must say to me also, this seemed a +strange remedy; and Dick said as much. Quoth he:</p> +<p>“Friend Walter, don’t set the man brooding on the +tragedy by letting him live alone. That will only +strengthen his idea that he has committed a crime, and you will +have him killing himself in good earnest.”</p> +<p>Said Clara: “I don’t know. If I may say what +I think of it, it is that he had better have his fill of gloom +now, and, so to say, wake up presently to see how little need +there has been for it; and then he will live happily +afterwards. As for his killing himself, you need not be +afraid of that; for, from all you tell me, he is really very much +in love with the woman; and to speak plainly, until his love is +satisfied, he will not only stick to life as tightly as he can, +but will also make the most of every event of his +life—will, so to say, hug himself up in it; and I think +that this is the real explanation of his taking the whole matter +with such an excess of tragedy.”</p> +<p>Walter looked thoughtful, and said: “Well, you may be +right; and perhaps we should have treated it all more lightly: +but you see, guest” (turning to me), “such things +happen so seldom, that when they do happen, we cannot help being +much taken up with it. For the rest, we are all inclined, +to excuse our poor friend for making us so unhappy, on the ground +that he does it out of an exaggerated respect for human life and +its happiness. Well, I will say no more about it; only +this: will you give me a cast up stream, as I want to look after +a lonely habitation for the poor fellow, since he will have it +so, and I hear that there is one which would suit us very well on +the downs beyond Streatley; so if you will put me ashore there I +will walk up the hill and look to it.”</p> +<p>“Is the house in question empty?” said I.</p> +<p>“No,” said Walter, “but the man who lives +there will go out of it, of course, when he hears that we want +it. You see, we think that the fresh air of the downs and +the very emptiness of the landscape will do our friend +good.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Clara, smiling, “and he will not +be so far from his beloved that they cannot easily meet if they +have a mind to—as they certainly will.”</p> +<p>This talk had brought us down to the boat, and we were +presently afloat on the beautiful broad stream, Dick driving the +prow swiftly through the windless water of the early summer +morning, for it was not yet six o’clock. We were at +the lock in a very little time; and as we lay rising and rising +on the in-coming water, I could not help wondering that my old +friend the pound-lock, and that of the very simplest and most +rural kind, should hold its place there; so I said:</p> +<p>“I have been wondering, as we passed lock after lock, +that you people, so prosperous as you are, and especially since +you are so anxious for pleasant work to do, have not invented +something which would get rid of this clumsy business of going +up-stairs by means of these rude contrivances.”</p> +<p>Dick laughed. “My dear friend,” said he, +“as long as water has the clumsy habit of running down +hill, I fear we must humour it by going up-stairs when we have +our faces turned from the sea. And really I don’t see +why you should fall foul of Maple-Durham lock, which I think a +very pretty place.”</p> +<p>There was no doubt about the latter assertion, I thought, as I +looked up at the overhanging boughs of the great trees, with the +sun coming glittering through the leaves, and listened to the +song of the summer blackbirds as it mingled with the sound of the +backwater near us. So not being able to say why I wanted +the locks away—which, indeed, I didn’t do at +all—I held my peace. But Walter said—</p> +<p>“You see, guest, this is not an age of inventions. +The last epoch did all that for us, and we are now content to use +such of its inventions as we find handy, and leaving those alone +which we don’t want. I believe, as a matter of fact, +that some time ago (I can’t give you a date) some elaborate +machinery was used for the locks, though people did not go so far +as try to make the water run up hill. However, it was +troublesome, I suppose, and the simple hatches, and the gates, +with a big counterpoising beam, were found to answer every +purpose, and were easily mended when wanted with material always +to hand: so here they are, as you see.”</p> +<p>“Besides,” said Dick, “this kind of lock is +pretty, as you can see; and I can’t help thinking that your +machine-lock, winding up like a watch, would have been ugly and +would have spoiled the look of the river: and that is surely +reason enough for keeping such locks as these. Good-bye, +old fellow!” said he to the lock, as he pushed us out +through the now open gates by a vigorous stroke of the +boat-hook. “May you live long, and have your green +old age renewed for ever!”</p> +<p>On we went; and the water had the familiar aspect to me of the +days before Pangbourne had been thoroughly cocknified, as I have +seen it. It (Pangbourne) was distinctly a village +still—<i>i.e.</i>, a definite group of houses, and as +pretty as might be. The beech-woods still covered the hill +that rose above Basildon; but the flat fields beneath them were +much more populous than I remembered them, as there were five +large houses in sight, very carefully designed so as not to hurt +the character of the country. Down on the green lip of the +river, just where the water turns toward the Goring and Streatley +reaches, were half a dozen girls playing about on the +grass. They hailed us as we were about passing them, as +they noted that we were travellers, and we stopped a minute to +talk with them. They had been bathing, and were light clad +and bare-footed, and were bound for the meadows on the Berkshire +side, where the haymaking had begun, and were passing the time +merrily enough till the Berkshire folk came in their punt to +fetch them. At first nothing would content them but we must +go with them into the hay-field, and breakfast with them; but +Dick put forward his theory of beginning the hay-harvest higher +up the water, and not spoiling my pleasure therein by giving me a +taste of it elsewhere, and they gave way, though +unwillingly. In revenge they asked me a great many +questions about the country I came from and the manners of life +there, which I found rather puzzling to answer; and doubtless +what answers I did give were puzzling enough to them. I +noticed both with these pretty girls and with everybody else we +met, that in default of serious news, such as we had heard at +Maple-Durham, they were eager to discuss all the little details +of life: the weather, the hay-crop, the last new house, the +plenty or lack of such and such birds, and so on; and they talked +of these things not in a fatuous and conventional way, but as +taking, I say, real interest in them. Moreover, I found +that the women knew as much about all these things as the men: +could name a flower, and knew its qualities; could tell you the +habitat of such and such birds and fish, and the like.</p> +<p>It is almost strange what a difference this intelligence made +in my estimate of the country life of that day; for it used to be +said in past times, and on the whole truly, that outside their +daily work country people knew little of the country, and at +least could tell you nothing about it; while here were these +people as eager about all the goings on in the fields and woods +and downs as if they had been Cockneys newly escaped from the +tyranny of bricks and mortar.</p> +<p>I may mention as a detail worth noticing that not only did +there seem to be a great many more birds about of the +non-predatory kinds, but their enemies the birds of prey were +also commoner. A kite hung over our heads as we passed +Medmenham yesterday; magpies were quite common in the hedgerows; +I saw several sparrow-hawks, and I think a merlin; and now just +as we were passing the pretty bridge which had taken the place of +Basildon railway-bridge, a couple of ravens croaked above our +boat, as they sailed off to the higher ground of the downs. +I concluded from all this that the days of the gamekeeper were +over, and did not even need to ask Dick a question about it.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI: THE OBSTINATE REFUSERS</h2> +<p>Before we parted from these girls we saw two sturdy young men +and a woman putting off from the Berkshire shore, and then Dick +bethought him of a little banter of the girls, and asked them how +it was that there was nobody of the male kind to go with them +across the water, and where their boats were gone to. Said +one, the youngest of the party: “O, they have got the big +punt to lead stone from up the water.”</p> +<p>“Who do you mean by ‘they,’ dear +child?” said Dick.</p> +<p>Said an older girl, laughing: “You had better go and see +them. Look there,” and she pointed northwest, +“don’t you see building going on there?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Dick, “and I am rather surprised +at this time of the year; why are they not haymaking with +you?”</p> +<p>The girls all laughed at this, and before their laugh was +over, the Berkshire boat had run on to the grass and the girls +stepped in lightly, still sniggering, while the new comers gave +us the sele of the day. But before they were under way +again, the tall girl said:</p> +<p>“Excuse us for laughing, dear neighbours, but we have +had some friendly bickering with the builders up yonder, and as +we have no time to tell you the story, you had better go and ask +them: they will be glad to see you—if you don’t +hinder their work.”</p> +<p>They all laughed again at that, and waved us a pretty farewell +as the punters set them over toward the other shore, and left us +standing on the bank beside our boat.</p> +<p>“Let us go and see them,” said Clara; “that +is, if you are not in a hurry to get to Streatley, +Walter?”</p> +<p>“O no,” said Walter, “I shall be glad of the +excuse to have a little more of your company.”</p> +<p>So we left the boat moored there, and went on up the slow +slope of the hill; but I said to Dick on the way, being somewhat +mystified: “What was all that laughing about? what was the +joke!”</p> +<p>“I can guess pretty well,” said Dick; “some +of them up there have got a piece of work which interests them, +and they won’t go to the haymaking, which doesn’t +matter at all, because there are plenty of people to do such +easy-hard work as that; only, since haymaking is a regular +festival, the neighbours find it amusing to jeer good-humouredly +at them.”</p> +<p>“I see,” said I, “much as if in +Dickens’s time some young people were so wrapped up in +their work that they wouldn’t keep Christmas.”</p> +<p>“Just so,” said Dick, “only these people +need not be young either.”</p> +<p>“But what did you mean by easy-hard work?” said +I.</p> +<p>Quoth Dick: “Did I say that? I mean work that +tries the muscles and hardens them and sends you pleasantly weary +to bed, but which isn’t trying in other ways: doesn’t +harass you in short. Such work is always pleasant if you +don’t overdo it. Only, mind you, good mowing requires +some little skill. I’m a pretty good +mower.”</p> +<p>This talk brought us up to the house that was a-building, not +a large one, which stood at the end of a beautiful orchard +surrounded by an old stone wall. “O yes, I +see,” said Dick; “I remember, a beautiful place for a +house: but a starveling of a nineteenth century house stood +there: I am glad they are rebuilding: it’s all stone, too, +though it need not have been in this part of the country: my +word, though, they are making a neat job of it: but I +wouldn’t have made it all ashlar.”</p> +<p>Walter and Clara were already talking to a tall man clad in +his mason’s blouse, who looked about forty, but was I +daresay older, who had his mallet and chisel in hand; there were +at work in the shed and on the scaffold about half a dozen men +and two women, blouse-clad like the carles, while a very pretty +woman who was not in the work but was dressed in an elegant suit +of blue linen came sauntering up to us with her knitting in her +hand. She welcomed us and said, smiling: “So you are +come up from the water to see the Obstinate Refusers: where are +you going haymaking, neighbours?”</p> +<p>“O, right up above Oxford,” said Dick; “it +is rather a late country. But what share have you got with +the Refusers, pretty neighbour?”</p> +<p>Said she, with a laugh: “O, I am the lucky one who +doesn’t want to work; though sometimes I get it, for I +serve as model to Mistress Philippa there when she wants one: she +is our head carver; come and see her.”</p> +<p>She led us up to the door of the unfinished house, where a +rather little woman was working with mallet and chisel on the +wall near by. She seemed very intent on what she was doing, +and did not turn round when we came up; but a taller woman, quite +a girl she seemed, who was at work near by, had already knocked +off, and was standing looking from Clara to Dick with delighted +eyes. None of the others paid much heed to us.</p> +<p>The blue-clad girl laid her hand on the carver’s +shoulder and said: “Now Philippa, if you gobble up your +work like that, you will soon have none to do; and what will +become of you then?”</p> +<p>The carver turned round hurriedly and showed us the face of a +woman of forty (or so she seemed), and said rather pettishly, but +in a sweet voice:</p> +<p>“Don’t talk nonsense, Kate, and don’t +interrupt me if you can help it.” She stopped short +when she saw us, then went on with the kind smile of welcome +which never failed us. “Thank you for coming to see +us, neighbours; but I am sure that you won’t think me +unkind if I go on with my work, especially when I tell you that I +was ill and unable to do anything all through April and May; and +this open-air and the sun and the work together, and my feeling +well again too, make a mere delight of every hour to me; and +excuse me, I must go on.”</p> +<p>She fell to work accordingly on a carving in low relief of +flowers and figures, but talked on amidst her mallet strokes: +“You see, we all think this the prettiest place for a house +up and down these reaches; and the site has been so long +encumbered with an unworthy one, that we masons were determined +to pay off fate and destiny for once, and build the prettiest +house we could compass here—and so—and +so—”</p> +<p>Here she lapsed into mere carving, but the tall foreman came +up and said: “Yes, neighbours, that is it: so it is going +to be all ashlar because we want to carve a kind of a wreath of +flowers and figures all round it; and we have been much hindered +by one thing or other—Philippa’s illness amongst +others,—and though we could have managed our wreath without +her—”</p> +<p>“Could you, though?” grumbled the last-named from +the face of the wall.</p> +<p>“Well, at any rate, she is our best carver, and it would +not have been kind to begin the carving without her. So you +see,” said he, looking at Dick and me, “we really +couldn’t go haymaking, could we, neighbours? But you +see, we are getting on so fast now with this splendid weather, +that I think we may well spare a week or ten days at +wheat-harvest; and won’t we go at that work then! +Come down then to the acres that lie north and by west here at +our backs and you shall see good harvesters, neighbours.</p> +<p>“Hurrah, for a good brag!” called a voice from the +scaffold above us; “our foreman thinks that an easier job +than putting one stone on another!”</p> +<p>There was a general laugh at this sally, in which the tall +foreman joined; and with that we saw a lad bringing out a little +table into the shadow of the stone-shed, which he set down there, +and then going back, came out again with the inevitable big +wickered flask and tall glasses, whereon the foreman led us up to +due seats on blocks of stone, and said:</p> +<p>“Well, neighbours, drink to my brag coming true, or I +shall think you don’t believe me! Up there!” +said he, hailing the scaffold, “are you coming down for a +glass?” Three of the workmen came running down the +ladder as men with good “building legs” will do; but +the others didn’t answer, except the joker (if he must so +be called), who called out without turning round: “Excuse +me, neighbours for not getting down. I must get on: my work +is not superintending, like the gaffer’s yonder; but, you +fellows, send us up a glass to drink the haymakers’ +health.” Of course, Philippa would not turn away from +her beloved work; but the other woman carver came; she turned out +to be Philippa’s daughter, but was a tall strong girl, +black-haired and gipsey-like of face and curiously solemn of +manner. The rest gathered round us and clinked glasses, and +the men on the scaffold turned about and drank to our healths; +but the busy little woman by the door would have none of it all, +but only shrugged her shoulders when her daughter came up to her +and touched her.</p> +<p>So we shook hands and turned our backs on the Obstinate +Refusers, went down the slope to our boat, and before we had gone +many steps heard the full tune of tinkling trowels mingle with +the humming of the bees and the singing of the larks above the +little plain of Basildon.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII: THE UPPER WATERS</h2> +<p>We set Walter ashore on the Berkshire side, amidst all the +beauties of Streatley, and so went our ways into what once would +have been the deeper country under the foot-hills of the White +Horse; and though the contrast between half-cocknified and wholly +unsophisticated country existed no longer, a feeling of +exultation rose within me (as it used to do) at sight of the +familiar and still unchanged hills of the Berkshire range.</p> +<p>We stopped at Wallingford for our mid-day meal; of course, all +signs of squalor and poverty had disappeared from the streets of +the ancient town, and many ugly houses had been taken down and +many pretty new ones built, but I thought it curious, that the +town still looked like the old place I remembered so well; for +indeed it looked like that ought to have looked.</p> +<p>At dinner we fell in with an old, but very bright and +intelligent man, who seemed in a country way to be another +edition of old Hammond. He had an extraordinary detailed +knowledge of the ancient history of the country-side from the +time of Alfred to the days of the Parliamentary Wars, many events +of which, as you may know, were enacted round about +Wallingford. But, what was more interesting to us, he had +detailed record of the period of the change to the present state +of things, and told us a great deal about it, and especially of +that exodus of the people from the town to the country, and the +gradual recovery by the town-bred people on one side, and the +country-bred people on the other, of those arts of life which +they had each lost; which loss, as he told us, had at one time +gone so far that not only was it impossible to find a carpenter +or a smith in a village or small country town, but that people in +such places had even forgotten how to bake bread, and that at +Wallingford, for instance, the bread came down with the +newspapers by an early train from London, worked in some way, the +explanation of which I could not understand. He told us +also that the townspeople who came into the country used to pick +up the agricultural arts by carefully watching the way in which +the machines worked, gathering an idea of handicraft from +machinery; because at that time almost everything in and about +the fields was done by elaborate machines used quite +unintelligently by the labourers. On the other hand, the +old men amongst the labourers managed to teach the younger ones +gradually a little artizanship, such as the use of the saw and +the plane, the work of the smithy, and so forth; for once more, +by that time it was as much as—or rather, more than—a +man could do to fix an ash pole to a rake by handiwork; so that +it would take a machine worth a thousand pounds, a group of +workmen, and half a day’s travelling, to do five +shillings’ worth of work. He showed us, among other +things, an account of a certain village council who were working +hard at all this business; and the record of their intense +earnestness in getting to the bottom of some matter which in time +past would have been thought quite trivial, as, for example, the +due proportions of alkali and oil for soap-making for the village +wash, or the exact heat of the water into which a leg of mutton +should be plunged for boiling—all this joined to the utter +absence of anything like party feeling, which even in a village +assembly would certainly have made its appearance in an earlier +epoch, was very amusing, and at the same time instructive.</p> +<p>This old man, whose name was Henry Morsom, took us, after our +meal and a rest, into a biggish hall which contained a large +collection of articles of manufacture and art from the last days +of the machine period to that day; and he went over them with us, +and explained them with great care. They also were very +interesting, showing the transition from the makeshift work of +the machines (which was at about its worst a little after the +Civil War before told of) into the first years of the new +handicraft period. Of course, there was much overlapping of +the periods: and at first the new handwork came in very +slowly.</p> +<p>“You must remember,” said the old antiquary, +“that the handicraft was not the result of what used to be +called material necessity: on the contrary, by that time the +machines had been so much improved that almost all necessary work +might have been done by them: and indeed many people at that +time, and before it, used to think that machinery would entirely +supersede handicraft; which certainly, on the face of it, seemed +more than likely. But there was another opinion, far less +logical, prevalent amongst the rich people before the days of +freedom, which did not die out at once after that epoch had +begun. This opinion, which from all I can learn seemed as +natural then, as it seems absurd now, was, that while the +ordinary daily work of the world would be done entirely by +automatic machinery, the energies of the more intelligent part of +mankind would be set free to follow the higher forms of the arts, +as well as science and the study of history. It was +strange, was it not, that they should thus ignore that aspiration +after complete equality which we now recognise as the bond of all +happy human society?”</p> +<p>I did not answer, but thought the more. Dick looked +thoughtful, and said:</p> +<p>“Strange, neighbour? Well, I don’t +know. I have often heard my old kinsman say the one aim of +all people before our time was to avoid work, or at least they +thought it was; so of course the work which their daily life +forced them to do, seemed more like work than that which they +seemed to choose for themselves.”</p> +<p>“True enough,” said Morsom. “Anyhow, +they soon began to find out their mistake, and that only slaves +and slave-holders could live solely by setting machines +going.”</p> +<p>Clara broke in here, flushing a little as she spoke: +“Was not their mistake once more bred of the life of +slavery that they had been living?—a life which was always +looking upon everything, except mankind, animate and +inanimate—‘nature,’ as people used to call +it—as one thing, and mankind as another, it was natural to +people thinking in this way, that they should try to make +‘nature’ their slave, since they thought +‘nature’ was something outside them.”</p> +<p>“Surely,” said Morsom; “and they were +puzzled as to what to do, till they found the feeling against a +mechanical life, which had begun before the Great Change amongst +people who had leisure to think of such things, was spreading +insensibly; till at last under the guise of pleasure that was not +supposed to be work, work that was pleasure began to push out the +mechanical toil, which they had once hoped at the best to reduce +to narrow limits indeed, but never to get rid of; and which, +moreover, they found they could not limit as they had hoped to +do.”</p> +<p>“When did this new revolution gather head?” said +I.</p> +<p>“In the half-century that followed the Great +Change,” said Morsom, “it began to be noteworthy; +machine after machine was quietly dropped under the excuse that +the machines could not produce works of art, and that works of +art were more and more called for. Look here,” he +said, “here are some of the works of that time—rough +and unskilful in handiwork, but solid and showing some sense of +pleasure in the making.”</p> +<p>“They are very curious,” said I, taking up a piece +of pottery from amongst the specimens which the antiquary was +showing us; “not a bit like the work of either savages or +barbarians, and yet with what would once have been called a +hatred of civilisation impressed upon them.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Morsom, “you must not look for +delicacy there: in that period you could only have got that from +a man who was practically a slave. But now, you see,” +said he, leading me on a little, “we have learned the trick +of handicraft, and have added the utmost refinement of +workmanship to the freedom of fancy and imagination.”</p> +<p>I looked, and wondered indeed at the deftness and abundance of +beauty of the work of men who had at last learned to accept life +itself as a pleasure, and the satisfaction of the common needs of +mankind and the preparation for them, as work fit for the best of +the race. I mused silently; but at last I said—</p> +<p>“What is to come after this?”</p> +<p>The old man laughed. “I don’t know,” +said he; “we will meet it when it comes.”</p> +<p>“Meanwhile,” quoth Dick, “we have got to +meet the rest of our day’s journey; so out into the street +and down to the strand! Will you come a turn with us, +neighbour? Our friend is greedy of your stories.”</p> +<p>“I will go as far as Oxford with you,” said he; +“I want a book or two out of the Bodleian Library. I +suppose you will sleep in the old city?”</p> +<p>“No,” said Dick, “we are going higher up; +the hay is waiting us there, you know.”</p> +<p>Morsom nodded, and we all went into the street together, and +got into the boat a little above the town bridge. But just +as Dick was getting the sculls into the rowlocks, the bows of +another boat came thrusting through the low arch. Even at +first sight it was a gay little craft indeed—bright green, +and painted over with elegantly drawn flowers. As it +cleared the arch, a figure as bright and gay-clad as the boat +rose up in it; a slim girl dressed in light blue silk that +fluttered in the draughty wind of the bridge. I thought I +knew the figure, and sure enough, as she turned her head to us, +and showed her beautiful face, I saw with joy that it was none +other than the fairy godmother from the abundant garden on +Runnymede—Ellen, to wit.</p> +<p>We all stopped to receive her. Dick rose in the boat and +cried out a genial good morrow; I tried to be as genial as Dick, +but failed; Clara waved a delicate hand to her; and Morsom nodded +and looked on with interest. As to Ellen, the beautiful +brown of her face was deepened by a flush, as she brought the +gunwale of her boat alongside ours, and said:</p> +<p>“You see, neighbours, I had some doubt if you would all +three come back past Runnymede, or if you did, whether you would +stop there; and besides, I am not sure whether we—my father +and I—shall not be away in a week or two, for he wants to +see a brother of his in the north country, and I should not like +him to go without me. So I thought I might never see you +again, and that seemed uncomfortable to me, and—and so I +came after you.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Dick, “I am sure we are all +very glad of that; although you may be sure that as for Clara and +me, we should have made a point of coming to see you, and of +coming the second time, if we had found you away the first. +But, dear neighbour, there you are alone in the boat, and you +have been sculling pretty hard I should think, and might find a +little quiet sitting pleasant; so we had better part our company +into two.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Ellen, “I thought you would do +that, so I have brought a rudder for my boat: will you help me to +ship it, please?”</p> +<p>And she went aft in her boat and pushed along our side till +she had brought the stern close to Dick’s hand. He +knelt down in our boat and she in hers, and the usual fumbling +took place over hanging the rudder on its hooks; for, as you may +imagine, no change had taken place in the arrangement of such an +unimportant matter as the rudder of a pleasure-boat. As the +two beautiful young faces bent over the rudder, they seemed to me +to be very close together, and though it only lasted a moment, a +sort of pang shot through me as I looked on. Clara sat in +her place and did not look round, but presently she said, with +just the least stiffness in her tone:</p> +<p>“How shall we divide? Won’t you go into +Ellen’s boat, Dick, since, without offence to our guest, +you are the better sculler?”</p> +<p>Dick stood up and laid his hand on her shoulder, and said: +“No, no; let Guest try what he can do—he ought to be +getting into training now. Besides, we are in no hurry: we +are not going far above Oxford; and even if we are benighted, we +shall have the moon, which will give us nothing worse of a night +than a greyer day.”</p> +<p>“Besides,” said I, “I may manage to do a +little more with my sculling than merely keeping the boat from +drifting down stream.”</p> +<p>They all laughed at this, as if it had a been very good joke; +and I thought that Ellen’s laugh, even amongst the others, +was one of the pleasantest sounds I had ever heard.</p> +<p>To be short, I got into the new-come boat, not a little +elated, and taking the sculls, set to work to show off a +little. For—must I say it?—I felt as if even +that happy world were made the happier for my being so near this +strange girl; although I must say that of all the persons I had +seen in that world renewed, she was the most unfamiliar to me, +the most unlike what I could have thought of. Clara, for +instance, beautiful and bright as she was, was not unlike a +<i>very</i> pleasant and unaffected young lady; and the other +girls also seemed nothing more than specimens of very much +improved types which I had known in other times. But this +girl was not only beautiful with a beauty quite different from +that of “a young lady,” but was in all ways so +strangely interesting; so that I kept wondering what she would +say or do next to surprise and please me. Not, indeed, that +there was anything startling in what she actually said or did; +but it was all done in a new way, and always with that +indefinable interest and pleasure of life, which I had noticed +more or less in everybody, but which in her was more marked and +more charming than in anyone else that I had seen.</p> +<p>We were soon under way and going at a fair pace through the +beautiful reaches of the river, between Bensington and +Dorchester. It was now about the middle of the afternoon, +warm rather than hot, and quite windless; the clouds high up and +light, pearly white, and gleaming, softened the sun’s +burning, but did not hide the pale blue in most places, though +they seemed to give it height and consistency; the sky, in short, +looked really like a vault, as poets have sometimes called it, +and not like mere limitless air, but a vault so vast and full of +light that it did not in any way oppress the spirits. It +was the sort of afternoon that Tennyson must have been thinking +about, when he said of the Lotos-Eaters’ land that it was a +land where it was always afternoon.</p> +<p>Ellen leaned back in the stern and seemed to enjoy herself +thoroughly. I could see that she was really looking at +things and let nothing escape her, and as I watched her, an +uncomfortable feeling that she had been a little touched by love +of the deft, ready, and handsome Dick, and that she had been +constrained to follow us because of it, faded out of my mind; +since if it had been so, she surely could not have been so +excitedly pleased, even with the beautiful scenes we were passing +through. For some time she did not say much, but at last, +as we had passed under Shillingford Bridge (new built, but +somewhat on its old lines), she bade me hold the boat while she +had a good look at the landscape through the graceful arch. +Then she turned about to me and said:</p> +<p>“I do not know whether to be sorry or glad that this is +the first time that I have been in these reaches. It is +true that it is a great pleasure to see all this for the first +time; but if I had had a year or two of memory of it, how sweetly +it would all have mingled with my life, waking or dreaming! +I am so glad Dick has been pulling slowly, so as to linger out +the time here. How do you feel about your first visit to +these waters?”</p> +<p>I do not suppose she meant a trap for me, but anyhow I fell +into it, and said: “My first visit! It is not my +first visit by many a time. I know these reaches well; +indeed, I may say that I know every yard of the Thames from +Hammersmith to Cricklade.”</p> +<p>I saw the complications that might follow, as her eyes fixed +mine with a curious look in them, that I had seen before at +Runnymede, when I had said something which made it difficult for +others to understand my present position amongst these +people. I reddened, and said, in order to cover my mistake: +“I wonder you have never been up so high as this, since you +live on the Thames, and moreover row so well that it would be no +great labour to you. Let alone,” quoth I, +insinuatingly, “that anybody would be glad to row +you.”</p> +<p>She laughed, clearly not at my compliment (as I am sure she +need not have done, since it was a very commonplace fact), but at +something which was stirring in her mind; and she still looked at +me kindly, but with the above-said keen look in her eyes, and +then she said:</p> +<p>“Well, perhaps it is strange, though I have a good deal +to do at home, what with looking after my father, and dealing +with two or three young men who have taken a special liking to +me, and all of whom I cannot please at once. But you, dear +neighbour; it seems to me stranger that you should know the upper +river, than that I should not know it; for, as I understand, you +have only been in England a few days. But perhaps you mean +that you have read about it in books, and seen pictures of +it?—though that does not come to much, either.”</p> +<p>“Truly,” said I. “Besides, I have not +read any books about the Thames: it was one of the minor +stupidities of our time that no one thought fit to write a decent +book about what may fairly be called our only English +river.”</p> +<p>The words were no sooner out of my mouth than I saw that I had +made another mistake; and I felt really annoyed with myself, as I +did not want to go into a long explanation just then, or begin +another series of Odyssean lies. Somehow, Ellen seemed to +see this, and she took no advantage of my slip; her piercing look +changed into one of mere frank kindness, and she said:</p> +<p>“Well, anyhow I am glad that I am travelling these +waters with you, since you know our river so well, and I know +little of it past Pangbourne, for you can tell me all I want to +know about it.” She paused a minute, and then said: +“Yet you must understand that the part I do know, I know as +thoroughly as you do. I should be sorry for you to think +that I am careless of a thing so beautiful and interesting as the +Thames.”</p> +<p>She said this quite earnestly, and with an air of affectionate +appeal to me which pleased me very much; but I could see that she +was only keeping her doubts about me for another time.</p> +<p>Presently we came to Day’s Lock, where Dick and his two +sitters had waited for us. He would have me go ashore, as +if to show me something which I had never seen before; and +nothing loth I followed him, Ellen by my side, to the +well-remembered Dykes, and the long church beyond them, which was +still used for various purposes by the good folk of Dorchester: +where, by the way, the village guest-house still had the sign of +the Fleur-de-luce which it used to bear in the days when +hospitality had to be bought and sold. This time, however, +I made no sign of all this being familiar to me: though as we sat +for a while on the mound of the Dykes looking up at Sinodun and +its clear-cut trench, and its sister <i>mamelon</i> of +Whittenham, I felt somewhat uncomfortable under Ellen’s +serious attentive look, which almost drew from me the cry, +“How little anything is changed here!”</p> +<p>We stopped again at Abingdon, which, like Wallingford, was in +a way both old and new to me, since it had been lifted out of its +nineteenth-century degradation, and otherwise was as little +altered as might be.</p> +<p>Sunset was in the sky as we skirted Oxford by Oseney; we +stopped a minute or two hard by the ancient castle to put Henry +Morsom ashore. It was a matter of course that so far as +they could be seen from the river, I missed none of the towers +and spires of that once don-beridden city; but the meadows all +round, which, when I had last passed through them, were getting +daily more and more squalid, more and more impressed with the +seal of the “stir and intellectual life of the nineteenth +century,” were no longer intellectual, but had once again +become as beautiful as they should be, and the little hill of +Hinksey, with two or three very pretty stone houses new-grown on +it (I use the word advisedly; for they seemed to belong to it) +looked down happily on the full streams and waving grass, grey +now, but for the sunset, with its fast-ripening seeds.</p> +<p>The railway having disappeared, and therewith the various +level bridges over the streams of Thames, we were soon through +Medley Lock and in the wide water that washes Port Meadow, with +its numerous population of geese nowise diminished; and I thought +with interest how its name and use had survived from the older +imperfect communal period, through the time of the confused +struggle and tyranny of the rights of property, into the present +rest and happiness of complete Communism.</p> +<p>I was taken ashore again at Godstow, to see the remains of the +old nunnery, pretty nearly in the same condition as I had +remembered them; and from the high bridge over the cut close by, +I could see, even in the twilight, how beautiful the little +village with its grey stone houses had become; for we had now +come into the stone-country, in which every house must be either +built, walls and roof, of grey stone or be a blot on the +landscape.</p> +<p>We still rowed on after this, Ellen taking the sculls in my +boat; we passed a weir a little higher up, and about three miles +beyond it came by moonlight again to a little town, where we +slept at a house thinly inhabited, as its folk were mostly tented +in the hay-fields.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII: THE LITTLE RIVER</h2> +<p>We started before six o’clock the next morning, as we +were still twenty-five miles from our resting place, and Dick +wanted to be there before dusk. The journey was pleasant, +though to those who do not know the upper Thames, there is little +to say about it. Ellen and I were once more together in her +boat, though Dick, for fairness’ sake, was for having me in +his, and letting the two women scull the green toy. Ellen, +however, would not allow this, but claimed me as the interesting +person of the company. “After having come so +far,” said she, “I will not be put off with a +companion who will be always thinking of somebody else than me: +the guest is the only person who can amuse me properly. I +mean that really,” said she, turning to me, “and have +not said it merely as a pretty saying.”</p> +<p>Clara blushed and looked very happy at all this; for I think +up to this time she had been rather frightened of Ellen. As +for me I felt young again, and strange hopes of my youth were +mingling with the pleasure of the present; almost destroying it, +and quickening it into something like pain.</p> +<p>As we passed through the short and winding reaches of the now +quickly lessening stream, Ellen said: “How pleasant this +little river is to me, who am used to a great wide wash of water; +it almost seems as if we shall have to stop at every +reach-end. I expect before I get home this evening I shall +have realised what a little country England is, since we can so +soon get to the end of its biggest river.”</p> +<p>“It is not big,” said I, “but it is +pretty.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” she said, “and don’t you find +it difficult to imagine the times when this little pretty country +was treated by its folk as if it had been an ugly characterless +waste, with no delicate beauty to be guarded, with no heed taken +of the ever fresh pleasure of the recurring seasons, and +changeful weather, and diverse quality of the soil, and so +forth? How could people be so cruel to +themselves?”</p> +<p>“And to each other,” said I. Then a sudden +resolution took hold of me, and I said: “Dear neighbour, I +may as well tell you at once that I find it easier to imagine all +that ugly past than you do, because I myself have been part of +it. I see both that you have divined something of this in +me; and also I think you will believe me when I tell you of it, +so that I am going to hide nothing from you at all.”</p> +<p>She was silent a little, and then she said: “My friend, +you have guessed right about me; and to tell you the truth I have +followed you up from Runnymede in order that I might ask you many +questions, and because I saw that you were not one of us; and +that interested and pleased me, and I wanted to make you as happy +as you could be. To say the truth, there was a risk in +it,” said she, blushing—“I mean as to Dick and +Clara; for I must tell you, since we are going to be such close +friends, that even amongst us, where there are so many beautiful +women, I have often troubled men’s minds +disastrously. That is one reason why I was living alone +with my father in the cottage at Runnymede. But it did not +answer on that score; for of course people came there, as the +place is not a desert, and they seemed to find me all the more +interesting for living alone like that, and fell to making +stories of me to themselves—like I know you did, my +friend. Well, let that pass. This evening, or +to-morrow morning, I shall make a proposal to you to do something +which would please me very much, and I think would not hurt +you.”</p> +<p>I broke in eagerly, saying that I would do anything in the +world for her; for indeed, in spite of my years and the too +obvious signs of them (though that feeling of renewed youth was +not a mere passing sensation, I think)—in spite of my +years, I say, I felt altogether too happy in the company of this +delightful girl, and was prepared to take her confidences for +more than they meant perhaps.</p> +<p>She laughed now, but looked very kindly on me. +“Well,” she said, “meantime for the present we +will let it be; for I must look at this new country that we are +passing through. See how the river has changed character +again: it is broad now, and the reaches are long and very +slow-running. And look, there is a ferry!”</p> +<p>I told her the name of it, as I slowed off to put the +ferry-chain over our heads; and on we went passing by a bank clad +with oak trees on our left hand, till the stream narrowed again +and deepened, and we rowed on between walls of tall reeds, whose +population of reed sparrows and warblers were delightfully +restless, twittering and chuckling as the wash of the boats +stirred the reeds from the water upwards in the still, hot +morning.</p> +<p>She smiled with pleasure, and her lazy enjoyment of the new +scene seemed to bring out her beauty doubly as she leaned back +amidst the cushions, though she was far from languid; her +idleness being the idleness of a person, strong and well-knit +both in body and mind, deliberately resting.</p> +<p>“Look!” she said, springing up suddenly from her +place without any obvious effort, and balancing herself with +exquisite grace and ease; “look at the beautiful old bridge +ahead!”</p> +<p>“I need scarcely look at that,” said I, not +turning my head away from her beauty. “I know what it +is; though” (with a smile) “we used not to call it +the Old Bridge time agone.”</p> +<p>She looked down upon me kindly, and said, “How well we +get on now you are no longer on your guard against me!”</p> +<p>And she stood looking thoughtfully at me still, till she had +to sit down as we passed under the middle one of the row of +little pointed arches of the oldest bridge across the Thames.</p> +<p>“O the beautiful fields!” she said; “I had +no idea of the charm of a very small river like this. The +smallness of the scale of everything, the short reaches, and the +speedy change of the banks, give one a feeling of going +somewhere, of coming to something strange, a feeling of adventure +which I have not felt in bigger waters.”</p> +<p>I looked up at her delightedly; for her voice, saying the very +thing which I was thinking, was like a caress to me. She +caught my eye and her cheeks reddened under their tan, and she +said simply:</p> +<p>“I must tell you, my friend, that when my father leaves +the Thames this summer he will take me away to a place near the +Roman wall in Cumberland; so that this voyage of mine is farewell +to the south; of course with my goodwill in a way; and yet I am +sorry for it. I hadn’t the heart to tell Dick +yesterday that we were as good as gone from the Thames-side; but +somehow to you I must needs tell it.”</p> +<p>She stopped and seemed very thoughtful for awhile, and then +said smiling:</p> +<p>“I must say that I don’t like moving about from +one home to another; one gets so pleasantly used to all the +detail of the life about one; it fits so harmoniously and happily +into one’s own life, that beginning again, even in a small +way, is a kind of pain. But I daresay in the country which +you come from, you would think this petty and unadventurous, and +would think the worse of me for it.”</p> +<p>She smiled at me caressingly as she spoke, and I made haste to +answer: “O, no, indeed; again you echo my very +thoughts. But I hardly expected to hear you speak so. +I gathered from all I have heard that there was a great deal of +changing of abode amongst you in this country.”</p> +<p>“Well,” she said, “of course people are free +to move about; but except for pleasure-parties, especially in +harvest and hay-time, like this of ours, I don’t think they +do so much. I admit that I also have other moods than that +of stay-at-home, as I hinted just now, and I should like to go +with you all through the west country—thinking of +nothing,” concluded she smiling.</p> +<p>“I should have plenty to think of,” said I.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX: A RESTING-PLACE ON THE UPPER THAMES</h2> +<p>Presently at a place where the river flowed round a headland +of the meadows, we stopped a while for rest and victuals, and +settled ourselves on a beautiful bank which almost reached the +dignity of a hill-side: the wide meadows spread before us, and +already the scythe was busy amidst the hay. One change I +noticed amidst the quiet beauty of the fields—to wit, that +they were planted with trees here and there, often fruit-trees, +and that there was none of the niggardly begrudging of space to a +handsome tree which I remembered too well; and though the willows +were often polled (or shrowded, as they call it in that +country-side), this was done with some regard to beauty: I mean +that there was no polling of rows on rows so as to destroy the +pleasantness of half a mile of country, but a thoughtful sequence +in the cutting, that prevented a sudden bareness anywhere. +To be short, the fields were everywhere treated as a garden made +for the pleasure as well as the livelihood of all, as old Hammond +told me was the case.</p> +<p>On this bank or bent of the hill, then, we had our mid-day +meal; somewhat early for dinner, if that mattered, but we had +been stirring early: the slender stream of the Thames winding +below us between the garden of a country I have been telling of; +a furlong from us was a beautiful little islet begrown with +graceful trees; on the slopes westward of us was a wood of varied +growth overhanging the narrow meadow on the south side of the +river; while to the north was a wide stretch of mead rising very +gradually from the river’s edge. A delicate spire of +an ancient building rose up from out of the trees in the middle +distance, with a few grey houses clustered about it; while nearer +to us, in fact not half a furlong from the water, was a quite +modern stone house—a wide quadrangle of one story, the +buildings that made it being quite low. There was no garden +between it and the river, nothing but a row of pear-trees still +quite young and slender; and though there did not seem to be much +ornament about it, it had a sort of natural elegance, like that +of the trees themselves.</p> +<p>As we sat looking down on all this in the sweet June day, +rather happy than merry, Ellen, who sat next me, her hand clasped +about one knee, leaned sideways to me, and said in a low voice +which Dick and Clara might have noted if they had not been busy +in happy wordless love-making: “Friend, in your country +were the houses of your field-labourers anything like +that?”</p> +<p>I said: “Well, at any rate the houses of our rich men +were not; they were mere blots upon the face of the +land.”</p> +<p>“I find that hard to understand,” she said. +“I can see why the workmen, who were so oppressed, should +not have been able to live in beautiful houses; for it takes time +and leisure, and minds not over-burdened with care, to make +beautiful dwellings; and I quite understand that these poor +people were not allowed to live in such a way as to have these +(to us) necessary good things. But why the rich men, who +had the time and the leisure and the materials for building, as +it would be in this case, should not have housed themselves well, +I do not understand as yet. I know what you are meaning to +say to me,” she said, looking me full in the eyes and +blushing, “to wit that their houses and all belonging to +them were generally ugly and base, unless they chanced to be +ancient like yonder remnant of our forefathers’ work” +(pointing to the spire); “that they were—let me see; +what is the word?”</p> +<p>“Vulgar,” said I. “We used to +say,” said I, “that the ugliness and vulgarity of the +rich men’s dwellings was a necessary reflection from the +sordidness and bareness of life which they forced upon the poor +people.”</p> +<p>She knit her brows as in thought; then turned a brightened +face on me, as if she had caught the idea, and said: “Yes, +friend, I see what you mean. We have sometimes—those +of us who look into these things—talked this very matter +over; because, to say the truth, we have plenty of record of the +so-called arts of the time before Equality of Life; and there are +not wanting people who say that the state of that society was not +the cause of all that ugliness; that they were ugly in their life +because they liked to be, and could have had beautiful things +about them if they had chosen; just as a man or body of men now +may, if they please, make things more or less +beautiful—Stop! I know what you are going to +say.”</p> +<p>“Do you?” said I, smiling, yet with a beating +heart.</p> +<p>“Yes,” she said; “you are answering me, +teaching me, in some way or another, although you have not spoken +the words aloud. You were going to say that in times of +inequality it was an essential condition of the life of these +rich men that they should not themselves make what they wanted +for the adornment of their lives, but should force those to make +them whom they forced to live pinched and sordid lives; and that +as a necessary consequence the sordidness and pinching, the ugly +barrenness of those ruined lives, were worked up into the +adornment of the lives of the rich, and art died out amongst +men? Was that what you would say, my friend?”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” I said, looking at her eagerly; for +she had risen and was standing on the edge of the bent, the light +wind stirring her dainty raiment, one hand laid on her bosom, the +other arm stretched downward and clenched in her earnestness.</p> +<p>“It is true,” she said, “it is true! +We have proved it true!”</p> +<p>I think amidst my—something more than interest in her, +and admiration for her, I was beginning to wonder how it would +all end. I had a glimmering of fear of what might follow; +of anxiety as to the remedy which this new age might offer for +the missing of something one might set one’s heart +on. But now Dick rose to his feet and cried out in his +hearty manner: “Neighbour Ellen, are you quarrelling with +the guest, or are you worrying him to tell you things which he +cannot properly explain to our ignorance?”</p> +<p>“Neither, dear neighbour,” she said. +“I was so far from quarrelling with him that I think I have +been making him good friends both with himself and me. Is +it so, dear guest?” she said, looking down at me with a +delightful smile of confidence in being understood.</p> +<p>“Indeed it is,” said I.</p> +<p>“Well, moreover,” she said, “I must say for +him that he has explained himself to me very well indeed, so that +I quite understand him.”</p> +<p>“All right,” quoth Dick. “When I first +set eyes on you at Runnymede I knew that there was something +wonderful in your keenness of wits. I don’t say that +as a mere pretty speech to please you,” said he quickly, +“but because it is true; and it made me want to see more of +you. But, come, we ought to be going; for we are not half +way, and we ought to be in well before sunset.”</p> +<p>And therewith he took Clara’s hand, and led her down the +bent. But Ellen stood thoughtfully looking down for a +little, and as I took her hand to follow Dick, she turned round +to me and said:</p> +<p>“You might tell me a great deal and make many things +clear to me, if you would.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “I am pretty well fit for +that,—and for nothing else—an old man like +me.”</p> +<p>She did not notice the bitterness which, whether I liked it or +not, was in my voice as I spoke, but went on: “It is not so +much for myself; I should be quite content to dream about past +times, and if I could not idealise them, yet at least idealise +some of the people who lived in them. But I think sometimes +people are too careless of the history of the past—too apt +to leave it in the hands of old learned men like Hammond. +Who knows? Happy as we are, times may alter; we may be +bitten with some impulse towards change, and many things may seem +too wonderful for us to resist, too exciting not to catch at, if +we do not know that they are but phases of what has been before; +and withal ruinous, deceitful, and sordid.”</p> +<p>As we went slowly down toward the boats she said again: +“Not for myself alone, dear friend; I shall have children; +perhaps before the end a good many;—I hope so. And +though of course I cannot force any special kind of knowledge +upon them, yet, my Friend, I cannot help thinking that just as +they might be like me in body, so I might impress upon them some +part of my ways of thinking; that is, indeed, some of the +essential part of myself; that part which was not mere moods, +created by the matters and events round about me. What do +you think?”</p> +<p>Of one thing I was sure, that her beauty and kindness and +eagerness combined, forced me to think as she did, when she was +not earnestly laying herself open to receive my thoughts. I +said, what at the time was true, that I thought it most +important; and presently stood entranced by the wonder of her +grace as she stepped into the light boat, and held out her hand +to me. And so on we went up the Thames still—or +whither?</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX: THE JOURNEY’S END</h2> +<p>On we went. In spite of my new-born excitement about +Ellen, and my gathering fear of where it would land me, I could +not help taking abundant interest in the condition of the river +and its banks; all the more as she never seemed weary of the +changing picture, but looked at every yard of flowery bank and +gurgling eddy with the same kind of affectionate interest which I +myself once had so fully, as I used to think, and perhaps had not +altogether lost even in this strangely changed society with all +its wonders. Ellen seemed delighted with my pleasure at +this, that, or the other piece of carefulness in dealing with the +river: the nursing of pretty corners; the ingenuity in dealing +with difficulties of water-engineering, so that the most +obviously useful works looked beautiful and natural also. +All this, I say, pleased me hugely, and she was pleased at my +pleasure—but rather puzzled too.</p> +<p>“You seem astonished,” she said, just after we had +passed a mill <a name="citation2"></a><a href="#footnote2" +class="citation">[2]</a> which spanned all the stream save the +water-way for traffic, but which was as beautiful in its way as a +Gothic cathedral—“You seem astonished at this being +so pleasant to look at.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” I said, “in a way I am; though I +don’t see why it should not be.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” she said, looking at me admiringly, yet with +a lurking smile in her face, “you know all about the +history of the past. Were they not always careful about +this little stream which now adds so much pleasantness to the +country side? It would always be easy to manage this little +river. Ah! I forgot, though,” she said, as her +eye caught mine, “in the days we are thinking of pleasure +was wholly neglected in such matters. But how did they +manage the river in the days that you—” Lived +in she was going to say; but correcting herself, +said—“in the days of which you have +record?”</p> +<p>“They <i>mis</i>managed it,” quoth I. +“Up to the first half of the nineteenth century, when it +was still more or less of a highway for the country people, some +care was taken of the river and its banks; and though I +don’t suppose anyone troubled himself about its aspect, yet +it was trim and beautiful. But when the railways—of +which no doubt you have heard—came into power, they would +not allow the people of the country to use either the natural or +artificial waterways, of which latter there were a great +many. I suppose when we get higher up we shall see one of +these; a very important one, which one of these railways entirely +closed to the public, so that they might force people to send +their goods by their private road, and so tax them as heavily as +they could.”</p> +<p>Ellen laughed heartily. “Well,” she said, +“that is not stated clearly enough in our history-books, +and it is worth knowing. But certainly the people of those +days must have been a curiously lazy set. We are not either +fidgety or quarrelsome now, but if any one tried such a piece of +folly on us, we should use the said waterways, whoever gainsaid +us: surely that would be simple enough. However, I remember +other cases of this stupidity: when I was on the Rhine two years +ago, I remember they showed us ruins of old castles, which, +according to what we heard, must have been made for pretty much +the same purpose as the railways were. But I am +interrupting your history of the river: pray go on.”</p> +<p>“It is both short and stupid enough,” said +I. “The river having lost its practical or commercial +value—that is, being of no use to make money +of—”</p> +<p>She nodded. “I understand what that queer phrase +means,” said she. “Go on!”</p> +<p>“Well, it was utterly neglected, till at last it became +a nuisance—”</p> +<p>“Yes,” quoth Ellen, “I understand: like the +railways and the robber knights. Yes?”</p> +<p>“So then they turned the makeshift business on to it, +and handed it over to a body up in London, who from time to time, +in order to show that they had something to do, did some damage +here and there,—cut down trees, destroying the banks +thereby; dredged the river (where it was not needed always), and +threw the dredgings on the fields so as to spoil them; and so +forth. But for the most part they practised ‘masterly +inactivity,’ as it was then called—that is, they drew +their salaries, and let things alone.”</p> +<p>“Drew their salaries,” she said. “I +know that means that they were allowed to take an extra lot of +other people’s goods for doing nothing. And if that +had been all, it really might have been worth while to let them +do so, if you couldn’t find any other way of keeping them +quiet; but it seems to me that being so paid, they could not help +doing something, and that something was bound to be +mischief,—because,” said she, kindling with sudden +anger, “the whole business was founded on lies and false +pretensions. I don’t mean only these river-guardians, +but all these master-people I have read of.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “how happy you are to have +got out of the parsimony of oppression!”</p> +<p>“Why do you sigh?” she said, kindly and somewhat +anxiously. “You seem to think that it will not +last?”</p> +<p>“It will last for you,” quoth I.</p> +<p>“But why not for you?” said she. +“Surely it is for all the world; and if your country is +somewhat backward, it will come into line before long. +Or,” she said quickly, “are you thinking that you +must soon go back again? I will make my proposal which I +told you of at once, and so perhaps put an end to your +anxiety. I was going to propose that you should live with +us where we are going. I feel quite old friends with you, +and should be sorry to lose you.” Then she smiled on +me, and said: “Do you know, I begin to suspect you of +wanting to nurse a sham sorrow, like the ridiculous characters in +some of those queer old novels that I have come across now and +then.”</p> +<p>I really had almost begun to suspect it myself, but I refused +to admit so much; so I sighed no more, but fell to giving my +delightful companion what little pieces of history I knew about +the river and its borderlands; and the time passed pleasantly +enough; and between the two of us (she was a better sculler than +I was, and seemed quite tireless) we kept up fairly well with +Dick, hot as the afternoon was, and swallowed up the way at a +great rate. At last we passed under another ancient bridge; +and through meadows bordered at first with huge elm-trees mingled +with sweet chestnut of younger but very elegant growth; and the +meadows widened out so much that it seemed as if the trees must +now be on the bents only, or about the houses, except for the +growth of willows on the immediate banks; so that the wide +stretch of grass was little broken here. Dick got very much +excited now, and often stood up in the boat to cry out to us that +this was such and such a field, and so forth; and we caught fire +at his enthusiasm for the hay-field and its harvest, and pulled +our best.</p> +<p>At last as we were passing through a reach of the river where +on the side of the towing-path was a highish bank with a thick +whispering bed of reeds before it, and on the other side a higher +bank, clothed with willows that dipped into the stream and +crowned by ancient elm-trees, we saw bright figures coming along +close to the bank, as if they were looking for something; as, +indeed, they were, and we—that is, Dick and his +company—were what they were looking for. Dick lay on +his oars, and we followed his example. He gave a joyous +shout to the people on the bank, which was echoed back from it in +many voices, deep and sweetly shrill; for there were above a +dozen persons, both men, women, and children. A tall +handsome woman, with black wavy hair and deep-set grey eyes, came +forward on the bank and waved her hand gracefully to us, and +said:</p> +<p>“Dick, my friend, we have almost had to wait for +you! What excuse have you to make for your slavish +punctuality? Why didn’t you take us by surprise, and +come yesterday?”</p> +<p>“O,” said Dick, with an almost imperceptible jerk +of his head toward our boat, “we didn’t want to come +too quick up the water; there is so much to see for those who +have not been up here before.”</p> +<p>“True, true,” said the stately lady, for stately +is the word that must be used for her; “and we want them to +get to know the wet way from the east thoroughly well, since they +must often use it now. But come ashore at once, Dick, and +you, dear neighbours; there is a break in the reeds and a good +landing-place just round the corner. We can carry up your +things, or send some of the lads after them.”</p> +<p>“No, no,” said Dick; “it is easier going by +water, though it is but a step. Besides, I want to bring my +friend here to the proper place. We will go on to the Ford; +and you can talk to us from the bank as we paddle +along.”</p> +<p>He pulled his sculls through the water, and on we went, +turning a sharp angle and going north a little. Presently +we saw before us a bank of elm-trees, which told us of a house +amidst them, though I looked in vain for the grey walls that I +expected to see there. As we went, the folk on the bank +talked indeed, mingling their kind voices with the cuckoo’s +song, the sweet strong whistle of the blackbirds, and the +ceaseless note of the corn-crake as he crept through the long +grass of the mowing-field; whence came waves of fragrance from +the flowering clover amidst of the ripe grass.</p> +<p>In a few minutes we had passed through a deep eddying pool +into the sharp stream that ran from the ford, and beached our +craft on a tiny strand of limestone-gravel, and stepped ashore +into the arms of our up-river friends, our journey done.</p> +<p>I disentangled myself from the merry throng, and mounting on +the cart-road that ran along the river some feet above the water, +I looked round about me. The river came down through a wide +meadow on my left, which was grey now with the ripened seeding +grasses; the gleaming water was lost presently by a turn of the +bank, but over the meadow I could see the mingled gables of a +building where I knew the lock must be, and which now seemed to +combine a mill with it. A low wooded ridge bounded the +river-plain to the south and south-east, whence we had come, and +a few low houses lay about its feet and up its slope. I +turned a little to my right, and through the hawthorn sprays and +long shoots of the wild roses could see the flat country +spreading out far away under the sun of the calm evening, till +something that might be called hills with a look of +sheep-pastures about them bounded it with a soft blue line. +Before me, the elm-boughs still hid most of what houses there +might be in this river-side dwelling of men; but to the right of +the cart-road a few grey buildings of the simplest kind showed +here and there.</p> +<p>There I stood in a dreamy mood, and rubbed my eyes as if I +were not wholly awake, and half expected to see the gay-clad +company of beautiful men and women change to two or three +spindle-legged back-bowed men and haggard, hollow-eyed, +ill-favoured women, who once wore down the soil of this land with +their heavy hopeless feet, from day to day, and season to season, +and year to year. But no change came as yet, and my heart +swelled with joy as I thought of all the beautiful grey villages, +from the river to the plain and the plain to the uplands, which I +could picture to myself so well, all peopled now with this happy +and lovely folk, who had cast away riches and attained to +wealth.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI: AN OLD HOUSE AMONGST NEW FOLK</h2> +<p>As I stood there Ellen detached herself from our happy friends +who still stood on the little strand and came up to me. She +took me by the hand, and said softly, “Take me on to the +house at once; we need not wait for the others: I had rather +not.”</p> +<p>I had a mind to say that I did not know the way thither, and +that the river-side dwellers should lead; but almost without my +will my feet moved on along the road they knew. The raised +way led us into a little field bounded by a backwater of the +river on one side; on the right hand we could see a cluster of +small houses and barns, new and old, and before us a grey stone +barn and a wall partly overgrown with ivy, over which a few grey +gables showed. The village road ended in the shallow of the +aforesaid backwater. We crossed the road, and again almost +without my will my hand raised the latch of a door in the wall, +and we stood presently on a stone path which led up to the old +house to which fate in the shape of Dick had so strangely brought +me in this new world of men. My companion gave a sigh of +pleased surprise and enjoyment; nor did I wonder, for the garden +between the wall and the house was redolent of the June flowers, +and the roses were rolling over one another with that delicious +superabundance of small well-tended gardens which at first sight +takes away all thought from the beholder save that of +beauty. The blackbirds were singing their loudest, the +doves were cooing on the roof-ridge, the rooks in the high +elm-trees beyond were garrulous among the young leaves, and the +swifts wheeled whining about the gables. And the house +itself was a fit guardian for all the beauty of this heart of +summer.</p> +<p>Once again Ellen echoed my thoughts as she said:</p> +<p>“Yes, friend, this is what I came out for to see; this +many-gabled old house built by the simple country-folk of the +long-past times, regardless of all the turmoil that was going on +in cities and courts, is lovely still amidst all the beauty which +these latter days have created; and I do not wonder at our +friends tending it carefully and making much of it. It +seems to me as if it had waited for these happy days, and held in +it the gathered crumbs of happiness of the confused and turbulent +past.”</p> +<p>She led me up close to the house, and laid her shapely +sun-browned hand and arm on the lichened wall as if to embrace +it, and cried out, “O me! O me! How I love the +earth, and the seasons, and weather, and all things that deal +with it, and all that grows out of it,—as this has +done!”</p> +<p>I could not answer her, or say a word. Her exultation +and pleasure were so keen and exquisite, and her beauty, so +delicate, yet so interfused with energy, expressed it so fully, +that any added word would have been commonplace and futile. +I dreaded lest the others should come in suddenly and break the +spell she had cast about me; but we stood there a while by the +corner of the big gable of the house, and no one came. I +heard the merry voices some way off presently, and knew that they +were going along the river to the great meadow on the other side +of the house and garden.</p> +<p>We drew back a little, and looked up at the house: the door +and the windows were open to the fragrant sun-cured air; from the +upper window-sills hung festoons of flowers in honour of the +festival, as if the others shared in the love for the old +house.</p> +<p>“Come in,” said Ellen. “I hope nothing +will spoil it inside; but I don’t think it will. +Come! we must go back presently to the others. They have +gone on to the tents; for surely they must have tents pitched for +the haymakers—the house would not hold a tithe of the folk, +I am sure.”</p> +<p>She led me on to the door, murmuring little above her breath +as she did so, “The earth and the growth of it and the life +of it! If I could but say or show how I love it!”</p> +<p>We went in, and found no soul in any room as we wandered from +room to room,—from the rose-covered porch to the strange +and quaint garrets amongst the great timbers of the roof, where +of old time the tillers and herdsmen of the manor slept, but +which a-nights seemed now, by the small size of the beds, and the +litter of useless and disregarded matters—bunches of dying +flowers, feathers of birds, shells of starling’s eggs, +caddis worms in mugs, and the like—seemed to be inhabited +for the time by children.</p> +<p>Everywhere there was but little furniture, and that only the +most necessary, and of the simplest forms. The extravagant +love of ornament which I had noted in this people elsewhere +seemed here to have given place to the feeling that the house +itself and its associations was the ornament of the country life +amidst which it had been left stranded from old times, and that +to re-ornament it would but take away its use as a piece of +natural beauty.</p> +<p>We sat down at last in a room over the wall which Ellen had +caressed, and which was still hung with old tapestry, originally +of no artistic value, but now faded into pleasant grey tones +which harmonised thoroughly well with the quiet of the place, and +which would have been ill supplanted by brighter and more +striking decoration.</p> +<p>I asked a few random questions of Ellen as we sat there, but +scarcely listened to her answers, and presently became silent, +and then scarce conscious of anything, but that I was there in +that old room, the doves crooning from the roofs of the barn and +dovecot beyond the window opposite to me.</p> +<p>My thought returned to me after what I think was but a minute +or two, but which, as in a vivid dream, seemed as if it had +lasted a long time, when I saw Ellen sitting, looking all the +fuller of life and pleasure and desire from the contrast with the +grey faded tapestry with its futile design, which was now only +bearable because it had grown so faint and feeble.</p> +<p>She looked at me kindly, but as if she read me through and +through. She said: “You have begun again your +never-ending contrast between the past and this present. Is +it not so?”</p> +<p>“True,” said I. “I was thinking of +what you, with your capacity and intelligence, joined to your +love of pleasure, and your impatience of unreasonable +restraint—of what you would have been in that past. +And even now, when all is won and has been for a long time, my +heart is sickened with thinking of all the waste of life that has +gone on for so many years.”</p> +<p>“So many centuries,” she said, “so many +ages!”</p> +<p>“True,” I said; “too true,” and sat +silent again.</p> +<p>She rose up and said: “Come, I must not let you go off +into a dream again so soon. If we must lose you, I want you +to see all that you can see first before you go back +again.”</p> +<p>“Lose me?” I said—“go back +again? Am I not to go up to the North with you? What +do you mean?”</p> +<p>She smiled somewhat sadly, and said: “Not yet; we will +not talk of that yet. Only, what were you thinking of just +now?”</p> +<p>I said falteringly: “I was saying to myself, The past, +the present? Should she not have said the contrast of the +present with the future: of blind despair with hope?”</p> +<p>“I knew it,” she said. Then she caught my +hand and said excitedly, “Come, while there is yet +time! Come!” And she led me out of the room; and as +we were going downstairs and out of the house into the garden by +a little side door which opened out of a curious lobby, she said +in a calm voice, as if she wished me to forget her sudden +nervousness: “Come! we ought to join the others before they +come here looking for us. And let me tell you, my friend, +that I can see you are too apt to fall into mere dreamy musing: +no doubt because you are not yet used to our life of repose +amidst of energy; of work which is pleasure and pleasure which is +work.”</p> +<p>She paused a little, and as we came out into the lovely garden +again, she said: “My friend, you were saying that you +wondered what I should have been if I had lived in those past +days of turmoil and oppression. Well, I think I have +studied the history of them to know pretty well. I should +have been one of the poor, for my father when he was working was +a mere tiller of the soil. Well, I could not have borne +that; therefore my beauty and cleverness and brightness” +(she spoke with no blush or simper of false shame) “would +have been sold to rich men, and my life would have been wasted +indeed; for I know enough of that to know that I should have had +no choice, no power of will over my life; and that I should never +have bought pleasure from the rich men, or even opportunity of +action, whereby I might have won some true excitement. I +should have wrecked and wasted in one way or another, either by +penury or by luxury. Is it not so?”</p> +<p>“Indeed it is,” said I.</p> +<p>She was going to say something else, when a little gate in the +fence, which led into a small elm-shaded field, was opened, and +Dick came with hasty cheerfulness up the garden path, and was +presently standing between us, a hand laid on the shoulder of +each. He said: “Well, neighbours, I thought you two +would like to see the old house quietly without a crowd in +it. Isn’t it a jewel of a house after its kind? +Well, come along, for it is getting towards dinner-time. +Perhaps you, guest, would like a swim before we sit down to what +I fancy will be a pretty long feast?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” I said, “I should like +that.”</p> +<p>“Well, good-bye for the present, neighbour Ellen,” +said Dick. “Here comes Clara to take care of you, as +I fancy she is more at home amongst our friends here.”</p> +<p>Clara came out of the fields as he spoke; and with one look at +Ellen I turned and went with Dick, doubting, if I must say the +truth, whether I should see her again.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII: THE FEAST’S BEGINNING—THE END</h2> +<p>Dick brought me at once into the little field which, as I had +seen from the garden, was covered with gaily-coloured tents +arranged in orderly lanes, about which were sitting and lying on +the grass some fifty or sixty men, women, and children, all of +them in the height of good temper and enjoyment—with their +holiday mood on, so to say.</p> +<p>“You are thinking that we don’t make a great show +as to numbers,” said Dick; “but you must remember +that we shall have more to-morrow; because in this haymaking work +there is room for a great many people who are not over-skilled in +country matters: and there are many who lead sedentary lives, +whom it would be unkind to deprive of their pleasure in the +hay-field—scientific men and close students generally: so +that the skilled workmen, outside those who are wanted as mowers, +and foremen of the haymaking, stand aside, and take a little +downright rest, which you know is good for them, whether they +like it or not: or else they go to other countrysides, as I am +doing here. You see, the scientific men and historians, and +students generally, will not be wanted till we are fairly in the +midst of the tedding, which of course will not be till the day +after to-morrow.” With that he brought me out of the +little field on to a kind of causeway above the river-side +meadow, and thence turning to the left on to a path through the +mowing grass, which was thick and very tall, led on till we came +to the river above the weir and its mill. There we had a +delightful swim in the broad piece of water above the lock, where +the river looked much bigger than its natural size from its being +dammed up by the weir.</p> +<p>“Now we are in a fit mood for dinner,” said Dick, +when we had dressed and were going through the grass again; +“and certainly of all the cheerful meals in the year, this +one of haysel is the cheerfullest; not even excepting the +corn-harvest feast; for then the year is beginning to fail, and +one cannot help having a feeling behind all the gaiety, of the +coming of the dark days, and the shorn fields and empty gardens; +and the spring is almost too far off to look forward to. It +is, then, in the autumn, when one almost believes in +death.”</p> +<p>“How strangely you talk,” said I, “of such a +constantly recurring and consequently commonplace matter as the +sequence of the seasons.” And indeed these people were like +children about such things, and had what seemed to me a quite +exaggerated interest in the weather, a fine day, a dark night, or +a brilliant one, and the like.</p> +<p>“Strangely?” said he. “Is it strange +to sympathise with the year and its gains and losses?”</p> +<p>“At any rate,” said I, “if you look upon the +course of the year as a beautiful and interesting drama, which is +what I think you do, you should be as much pleased and interested +with the winter and its trouble and pain as with this wonderful +summer luxury.”</p> +<p>“And am I not?” said Dick, rather warmly; +“only I can’t look upon it as if I were sitting in a +theatre seeing the play going on before me, myself taking no part +of it. It is difficult,” said he, smiling +good-humouredly, “for a non-literary man like me to explain +myself properly, like that dear girl Ellen would; but I mean that +I am part of it all, and feel the pain as well as the pleasure in +my own person. It is not done for me by somebody else, +merely that I may eat and drink and sleep; but I myself do my +share of it.”</p> +<p>In his way also, as Ellen in hers, I could see that Dick had +that passionate love of the earth which was common to but few +people at least, in the days I knew; in which the prevailing +feeling amongst intellectual persons was a kind of sour distaste +for the changing drama of the year, for the life of earth and its +dealings with men. Indeed, in those days it was thought +poetic and imaginative to look upon life as a thing to be borne, +rather than enjoyed.</p> +<p>So I mused till Dick’s laugh brought me back into the +Oxfordshire hay-fields. “One thing seems strange to +me,” said he—“that I must needs trouble myself +about the winter and its scantiness, in the midst of the summer +abundance. If it hadn’t happened to me before, I +should have thought it was your doing, guest; that you had thrown +a kind of evil charm over me. Now, you know,” said +he, suddenly, “that’s only a joke, so you +mustn’t take it to heart.”</p> +<p>“All right,” said I; “I +don’t.” Yet I did feel somewhat uneasy at his +words, after all.</p> +<p>We crossed the causeway this time, and did not turn back to +the house, but went along a path beside a field of wheat now +almost ready to blossom. I said:</p> +<p>“We do not dine in the house or garden, then?—as +indeed I did not expect to do. Where do we meet, +then? For I can see that the houses are mostly very +small.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Dick, “you are right, they are +small in this country-side: there are so many good old houses +left, that people dwell a good deal in such small detached +houses. As to our dinner, we are going to have our feast in +the church. I wish, for your sake, it were as big and +handsome as that of the old Roman town to the west, or the forest +town to the north; <a name="citation3"></a><a href="#footnote3" +class="citation">[3]</a> but, however, it will hold us all; and +though it is a little thing, it is beautiful in its +way.”</p> +<p>This was somewhat new to me, this dinner in a church, and I +thought of the church-ales of the Middle Ages; but I said +nothing, and presently we came out into the road which ran +through the village. Dick looked up and down it, and seeing +only two straggling groups before us, said: “It seems as if +we must be somewhat late; they are all gone on; and they will be +sure to make a point of waiting for you, as the guest of guests, +since you come from so far.”</p> +<p>He hastened as he spoke, and I kept up with him, and presently +we came to a little avenue of lime-trees which led us straight to +the church porch, from whose open door came the sound of cheerful +voices and laughter, and varied merriment.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Dick, “it’s the coolest +place for one thing, this hot evening. Come along; they +will be glad to see you.”</p> +<p>Indeed, in spite of my bath, I felt the weather more sultry +and oppressive than on any day of our journey yet.</p> +<p>We went into the church, which was a simple little building +with one little aisle divided from the nave by three round +arches, a chancel, and a rather roomy transept for so small a +building, the windows mostly of the graceful Oxfordshire +fourteenth century type. There was no modern architectural +decoration in it; it looked, indeed, as if none had been +attempted since the Puritans whitewashed the mediæval +saints and histories on the wall. It was, however, gaily +dressed up for this latter-day festival, with festoons of flowers +from arch to arch, and great pitchers of flowers standing about +on the floor; while under the west window hung two cross scythes, +their blades polished white, and gleaming from out of the flowers +that wreathed them. But its best ornament was the crowd of +handsome, happy-looking men and women that were set down to +table, and who, with their bright faces and rich hair over their +gay holiday raiment, looked, as the Persian poet puts it, like a +bed of tulips in the sun. Though the church was a small +one, there was plenty of room; for a small church makes a biggish +house; and on this evening there was no need to set cross tables +along the transepts; though doubtless these would be wanted next +day, when the learned men of whom Dick has been speaking should +be come to take their more humble part in the haymaking.</p> +<p>I stood on the threshold with the expectant smile on my face +of a man who is going to take part in a festivity which he is +really prepared to enjoy. Dick, standing by me was looking +round the company with an air of proprietorship in them, I +thought. Opposite me sat Clara and Ellen, with Dick’s +place open between them: they were smiling, but their beautiful +faces were each turned towards the neighbours on either side, who +were talking to them, and they did not seem to see me. I +turned to Dick, expecting him to lead me forward, and he turned +his face to me; but strange to say, though it was as smiling and +cheerful as ever, it made no response to my glance—nay, he +seemed to take no heed at all of my presence, and I noticed that +none of the company looked at me. A pang shot through me, +as of some disaster long expected and suddenly realised. +Dick moved on a little without a word to me. I was not +three yards from the two women who, though they had been my +companions for such a short time, had really, as I thought, +become my friends. Clara’s face was turned full upon +me now, but she also did not seem to see me, though I know I was +trying to catch her eye with an appealing look. I turned to +Ellen, and she <i>did</i> seem to recognise me for an instant; +but her bright face turned sad directly, and she shook her head +with a mournful look, and the next moment all consciousness of my +presence had faded from her face.</p> +<p>I felt lonely and sick at heart past the power of words to +describe. I hung about a minute longer, and then turned and +went out of the porch again and through the lime-avenue into the +road, while the blackbirds sang their strongest from the bushes +about me in the hot June evening.</p> +<p>Once more without any conscious effort of will I set my face +toward the old house by the ford, but as I turned round the +corner which led to the remains of the village cross, I came upon +a figure strangely contrasting with the joyous, beautiful people +I had left behind in the church. It was a man who looked +old, but whom I knew from habit, now half forgotten, was really +not much more than fifty. His face was rugged, and grimed +rather than dirty; his eyes dull and bleared; his body bent, his +calves thin and spindly, his feet dragging and limping. His +clothing was a mixture of dirt and rags long over-familiar to +me. As I passed him he touched his hat with some real +goodwill and courtesy, and much servility.</p> +<p>Inexpressibly shocked, I hurried past him and hastened along +the road that led to the river and the lower end of the village; +but suddenly I saw as it were a black cloud rolling along to meet +me, like a nightmare of my childish days; and for a while I was +conscious of nothing else than being in the dark, and whether I +was walking, or sitting, or lying down, I could not tell.</p> +<p>* * *</p> +<p>I lay in my bed in my house at dingy Hammersmith thinking +about it all; and trying to consider if I was overwhelmed with +despair at finding I had been dreaming a dream; and strange to +say, I found that I was not so despairing.</p> +<p>Or indeed <i>was</i> it a dream? If so, why was I so +conscious all along that I was really seeing all that new life +from the outside, still wrapped up in the prejudices, the +anxieties, the distrust of this time of doubt and struggle?</p> +<p>All along, though those friends were so real to me, I had been +feeling as if I had no business amongst them: as though the time +would come when they would reject me, and say, as Ellen’s +last mournful look seemed to say, “No, it will not do; you +cannot be of us; you belong so entirely to the unhappiness of the +past that our happiness even would weary you. Go back +again, now you have seen us, and your outward eyes have learned +that in spite of all the infallible maxims of your day there is +yet a time of rest in store for the world, when mastery has +changed into fellowship—but not before. Go back +again, then, and while you live you will see all round you people +engaged in making others live lives which are not their own, +while they themselves care nothing for their own real +lives—men who hate life though they fear death. Go +back and be the happier for having seen us, for having added a +little hope to your struggle. Go on living while you may, +striving, with whatsoever pain and labour needs must be, to build +up little by little the new day of fellowship, and rest, and +happiness.”</p> +<p>Yes, surely! and if others can see it as I have seen it, then +it may be called a vision rather than a dream.</p> +<h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2> +<p><a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1" +class="footnote">[1]</a> “Elegant,” I mean, as +a Persian pattern is elegant; not like a rich +“elegant” lady out for a morning call. I should +rather call that genteel.</p> +<p><a name="footnote2"></a><a href="#citation2" +class="footnote">[2]</a> I should have said that all along +the Thames there were abundance of mills used for various +purposes; none of which were in any degree unsightly, and many +strikingly beautiful; and the gardens about them marvels of +loveliness.</p> +<p><a name="footnote3"></a><a href="#citation3" +class="footnote">[3]</a> Cirencester and Burford he must +have meant.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEWS FROM NOWHERE***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 3261-h.htm or 3261-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/6/3261 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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