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r own judgement； because from their very infancy they had had drilled into them the doctrine of their own mental and social inferiority； and their conviction of the truth of this doctrine was voiced in the degraded expression that fell so frequently from their lips； when speaking of themselves and each other … ‘The Likes of Us！'
They did not know the causes of their poverty； they did not want to know； they did not want to hear。
All they desired was to be left alone so that they might continue to worship and follow those who took advantage of their simplicity； and robbed them of the fruits of their toil； their old leaders； the fools or scoundrels who fed them with words； who had led them into the desolation where they now seemed to be content to grind out treasure for their masters； and to starve when those masters did not find it profitable to employ them。 It was as if a flock of foolish sheep placed themselves under the protection of a pack of ravening wolves。
Several times the small band of Socialists narrowly escaped being mobbed； but they succeeded in disposing of most of their leaflets without any serious trouble。 Towards the latter part of one evening Barrington and Owen became separated from the others； and shortly afterwards these two lost each other in the crush。
About nine o'clock； Barrington was in a large Liberal crowd； listening to the same hired orator who had spoken a few evenings before on the hill … the man with the scar on his forehead。 The crowd was applauding him loudly and Barrington again fell to wondering where he had seen this man before。 As on the previous occasion； this speaker made no reference to Socialism； confining himself to other matters。 Barrington examined him closely； trying to recall under what circumstances they had met previously； and presently he remembered that this was one of the Socialists who had come with the band of cyclists into the town that Sunday morning； away back at the beginning of the summer； the man who had come afterwards with the van； and who had been struck down by a stone while attempting to speak from the platform of the van； the man who had been nearly killed by the upholders of the capitalist system。 It was the same man！ The Socialist had been clean…shaven … this man wore beard and moustache … but Barrington was certain he was the same。
When the man had concluded his speech he got down and stood in the shade behind the platform； while someone else addressed the meeting； and Barrington went round to where he was standing； intending to speak to him。
All around them； pandemonium reigned supreme。 They were in the vicinity of the Slave Market； near the Fountain； on the Grand Parade； where several roads met； there was a meeting going on at every corner； and a number of others in different； parts of the roadway and on the pavement of the Parade。 Some of these meetings were being carried on by two or three men； who spoke in turn from small； portable platforms they carried with them； and placed wherever they thought there was a chance of getting an audience。
Every now and then some of these poor wretches … they were all paid speakers … were surrounded and savagely mauled and beaten by a hostile crowd。 If they were Tariff Reformers the Liberals mobbed them； and vice versa。 Lines of rowdies swaggered to and fro； arm in arm； singing； ‘Vote； Vote； Vote； for good ole Closeland' or ‘good ole Sweater'； according as they were green or blue and yellow。 Gangs of hooligans paraded up and down； armed with sticks； singing； howling； cursing and looking for someone to hit。 Others stood in groups on the pavement with their hands thrust in their pockets； or leaned against walls or the shutters of the shops with expressions of ecstatic imbecility on their faces； chanting the mournful dirge to the tune of the church chimes；
‘Good … ole … Sweat … er Good … ole … Sweat … er Good … ole … Sweat … er Good … ole … Sweat … er。'
Other groups … to the same tune … sang ‘Good … ole … Close … land'； and every now and again they used to leave off singing and begin to beat each other。 Fights used to take place； often between workmen； about the respective merits of Adam Sweater and Sir Graball D'Encloseland。
The walls were covered with huge Liberal and Tory posters； which showed in every line the contempt of those who published them for the intelligence of the working men to whom they were addressed。 There was one Tory poster that represented the interior of a public house； in front of the bar； with a quart pot in his hand； a clay pipe in his mouth； and a load of tools on his back； stood a degraded…looking brute who represented the Tory ideal of what an Englishman should be； the letterpress on the poster said it was a man！ This is the ideal of manhood that they hold up to the majority of their fellow countrymen； but privately … amongst themselves … the Tory aristocrats regard such ‘men' with far less respect than they do the lower animals。 Horses or dogs； for instance。
The Liberal posters were not quite so offensive。 They were more cunning； more specious； more hypocritical and consequently more calculated to mislead and deceive the more intelligent of the voters。
When Barrington got round to the back of the platform； he found the man with the scarred face standing alone and gloomily silent in the shadow。 Barrington gave him one of the Socialist leaflets； which he took； and after glancing at it； put it in his coat pocket without making any remark。
‘I hope you'll excuse me for asking； but were you not formerly a Socialist？' said Barrington。
Even in the semi…darkness Barrington saw the other man flush deeply and then become very pale； and the unsightly scar upon his forehead showed with ghastly distinctiveness。
‘I am still a Socialist： no man who has once been a Socialist can ever cease to be one。'
‘You seem to have accomplished that impossibility； to judge by the work you are at present engaged in。 You must have changed your opinions since you were here last。'
‘No one who has been a Socialist can ever cease to be one。 It is impossible for a man who has once acquired knowledge ever to relinquish it。 A Socialist is one who understands the causes of the misery and degradation we see all around us； who knows the only remedy； and knows that that remedy … the state of society that will be called Socialism … must eventually be adopted； is the only alternative to the extermination of the majority of the working people； but it does not follow that everyone who has sense enough to acquire that amount of knowledge； must； in addition； be willing to sacrifice himself in order to help to bring that state of society into being。 When I first acquired that knowledge；' he continued； bitterly； ‘I was eager to tell the good news to others。 I sacrificed my time； my money； and my health in order that I might teach others what I had learned myself。 I did it willingly and happily； because I thought they would be glad to hear； and that they were worth the sacrifices I made for their sakes。 But I know better now。'
‘Even if you no longer believe in working for Socialism； there's no need to work AGAINST it。 If you are not disposed to sacrifice yourself in order to do good to others； you might at least refrain from doing evil。 If you don't want to help to bring about a better state of affairs； there's no reason why you should help to perpetuate the present system。'
The other man laughed bitterly。 ‘Oh yes； there is； and a very good reason too。'
‘I don't think you could show me a reason；' said Barrington。
The man with the scar laughed again； the same unpleasant； mirthless laugh； and thrusting his hand into his trouser pocket drew it out again full of silver coins； amongst which one or two gold pieces glittered。
‘That is my reason。 When I devoted my life and what abilities I possess to the service of my fellow workmen； when I sought to teach them how to break their chains； when I tried to show them how they might save their children from poverty and shameful servitude； I did not want them to give me money。 I did it for love。 And they paid me with hatred and injury。 But since I have been helping their masters to rob them； they have treated me with respect。'
Barrington made no reply and the other man； having returned the money to his pocket； indicated the crowd with a sweep of his hand。
‘Look at them！' he continued with a contemptuous laugh。 ‘Look at them！ the people you are trying to make idealists of！ Look at them！ Some of them howling and roaring like wild beasts； or laughing like idiots； others standing with dull and stupid faces devoid of any trace of intelligence or expression； listening to the speakers whose words convey no meaning to their stultified minds； and others with their eyes gleaming with savage hatred of their fellow men； watching eagerly for an opportunity to provoke a quarrel that they may gratify their brutal natures by striking someone … their eyes are hungry for the sight of blood！ Can't you see that these people； whom you are trying to make understand your plan for the regeneration of the world； your doctrine of universal brotherhood and love are for the most part … intellectually … on level with H