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state； joining wall to wall and way to way； the new great England
rising out of the decaying old 。 。 。 we are the real statesmenI
like that use of 'statesmen。'。 。 。〃
〃Yes；〃 I said with many doubts。 〃Yes； of course。 。 。 。〃
Willersley is middle…aged now； with silver in his hair and a
deepening benevolence in his always amiable face； and he has very
fairly kept his word。 He has lived for social service and to do
vast masses of useful； undistinguished； fertilising work。 Think of
the days of arid administrative plodding and of contention still
more arid and unrewarded； that he must have spent！ His little
affectations of gesture and manner； imitative affectations for the
most part； have increased； and the humorous beam and the humorous
intonations have become a thing he puts on every morning like an old
coat。 His devotion is mingled with a considerable whimsicality； and
they say he is easily flattered by subordinates and easily offended
into opposition by colleagues； he has made mistakes at times and
followed wrong courses； still there he is； a flat contradiction to
all the ordinary doctrine of motives； a man who has foregone any
chances of wealth and profit； foregone any easier paths to
distinction； foregone marriage and parentage； in order to serve the
community。 He does it without any fee or reward except his personal
self…satisfaction in doing this work； and he does it without any
hope of future joys and punishments； for he is an implacable
Rationalist。 No doubt he idealises himself a little； and dreams of
recognition。 No doubt he gets his pleasure from a sense of power；
from the spending and husbanding of large sums of public money； and
from the inevitable proprietorship he must feel in the fair； fine；
well…ordered schools he has done so much to develop。 〃But for me；〃
he can say； 〃there would have been a Job about those diagrams； and
that subject or this would have been less ably taught。〃 。 。 。
The fact remains that for him the rewards have been adequate； if not
to content at any rate to keep him working。 Of course he covets the
notice of the world he has served； as a lover covets the notice of
his mistress。 Of course he thinks somewhere； somewhen； he will get
credit。 Only last year I heard some men talking of him； and they
were noting； with little mean smiles； how he had shown himself self…
conscious while there was talk of some honorary degree…giving or
other； it would； I have no doubt； please him greatly if his work
were to flower into a crimson gown in some Academic parterre。 Why
shouldn't it？ But that is incidental vanity at the worst； he goes
on anyhow。 Most men don't。
But we had our walk twenty years and more ago now。 He was oldish
even then as a young man； just as he is oldish still in middle age。
Long may his industrious elderliness flourish for the good of the
world！ He lectured a little in conversation then； he lectures more
now and listens less； toilsomely disentangling what you already
understand； giving you in detail the data you know； these are things
like callosities that come from a man's work。
Our long three weeks' talk comes back to me as a memory of ideas and
determinations slowly growing； all mixed up with a smell of wood
smoke and pine woods and huge precipices and remote gleams of snow…
fields and the sound of cascading torrents rushing through deep
gorges far below。 It is mixed； too； with gossips with waitresses
and fellow travellers； with my first essays in colloquial German and
Italian； with disputes about the way to take； and other things that
I will tell of in another section。 But the white passion of human
service was our dominant theme。 Not simply perhaps nor altogether
unselfishly； but quite honestly； and with at least a frequent self…
forgetfulness； did we want to do fine and noble things； to help in
their developing； to lessen misery； to broaden and exalt life。 It
is very hardperhaps it is impossibleto present in a page or two
the substance and quality of nearly a month's conversation；
conversation that is casual and discursive in form； that ranges
carelessly from triviality to immensity； and yet is constantly
resuming a constructive process； as workmen on a wall loiter and
jest and go and come back； and all the while build。
We got it more and more definite that the core of our purpose
beneath all its varied aspects must needs be order and discipline。
〃Muddle；〃 said I； 〃is the enemy。〃 That remains my belief to this
day。 Clearness and order； light and foresight； these things I know
for Good。 It was muddle had just given us all the still freshly
painful disasters and humiliations of the war； muddle that gives us
the visibly sprawling disorder of our cities and industrial country…
side； muddle that gives us the waste of life； the limitations；
wretchedness and unemployment of the poor。 Muddle！ I remember
myself quoting Kipling
〃All along o' dirtiness； all along o' mess；
All along o' doin' things rather…more…or…less。〃
〃We build the state；〃 we said over and over again。 〃That is what we
are forservants of the new reorganisation！〃
We planned half in earnest and half Utopianising； a League of Social
Service。
We talked of the splendid world of men that might grow out of such
unpaid and ill…paid work as we were setting our faces to do。 We
spoke of the intricate difficulties； the monstrous passive
resistances； the hostilities to such a development as we conceived
our work subserved； and we spoke with that underlying confidence in
the invincibility of the causes we adopted that is natural to young
and scarcely tried men。
We talked much of the detailed life of politics so far as it was
known to us； and there Willersley was more experienced and far
better informed than I； we discussed possible combinations and
possible developments； and the chances of some great constructive
movement coming from the heart…searchings the Boer war had
occasioned。 We would sink to gossipeven at the Suetonius level。
Willersley would decline towards illuminating anecdotes that I
capped more or less loosely from my private reading。 We were
particularly wise； I remember； upon the management of newspapers；
because about that we knew nothing whatever。 We perceived that
great things were to be done through newspapers。 We talked of
swaying opinion and moving great classes to massive action。
Men are egotistical even in devotion。 All our splendid projects
were thickset with the first personal pronoun。 We both could write；
and all that we said in general terms was reflected in the
particular in our minds； it was ourselves we saw； and no others；
writing and speaking that moving word。 We had already produced
manuscript and passed the initiations of proof reading； I had been a
frequent speaker in the Union； and Willersley was an active man on
the School Board。 Our feet were already on the lower rungs that led
up and up。 He was six and twenty； and I twenty…two。 We intimated
our individual careers in terms of bold expectation。 I had
prophetic glimpses of walls and hoardings clamorous with 〃Vote for
Remington；〃 and Willersley no doubt saw himself chairman of this
committee and that； saying a few slightly ironical words after the
declaration of the poll； and then sitting friendly beside me on the
government benches。 There was nothing impossible in such dreams。
Why not the Board of Education for him？ My preference at that time
wavered between the Local Government BoardI had great ideas about
town…planning； about revisions of municipal areas and re…organised
internal transitand the War Office。 I swayed strongly towards the
latter as the journey progressed。 My educational bias came later。
The swelling ambitions that have tramped over Alpine passes！ How
many of them； like mine； have come almost within sight of
realisation before they failed？
There were times when we posed like young gods （of unassuming
exterior）； and times when we were full of the absurdest little
solicitudes about our prospects。 There were times when one surveyed
the whole world of men as if it was a little thing at one's feet；
and by way of contrast I remember once lying in bedit must have
been during this holiday； though I cannot for the life of me fix
whereand speculating whether perhaps some day I might not be a
K。 C。 B。； Sir Richard Remington； K。 C。 B。； M。 P。
But the big style prevailed。 。 。 。
We could not tell from minute to minute whether we were planning for
a world of solid reality； or telling ourselves fairy tales about
this prospect of life。 So much seemed possible； and everything we
could think of so improbable。 There were lapses when it seemed to
me I could never be anything but just the entirely unimportant and
undistinguished yo