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motor bicycle； and presently； on the Albert Embankment； every seat
has its one or two outcasts huddled together and slumbering。
〃These things come； these things go；〃 a whispering voice urged upon
me； 〃as once those vast unmeaning Saurians whose bones encumber
museums came and went rejoicing noisily in fruitless lives。〃 。 。 。
Fruitless lives！was that the truth of it all？ 。 。 。
Later I stood within sight of the Houses of Parliament in front of
the colonnades of St Thomas's Hospital。 I leant on the parapet
close by a lamp…stand of twisted dolphinsand I prayed！
I remember the swirl of the tide upon the water； and how a string of
barges presently came swinging and bumping round as high…water
turned to ebb。 That sudden change of position and my brief
perplexity at it； sticks like a paper pin through the substance of
my thoughts。 It was then I was moved to prayer。 I prayed that
night that life might not be in vain； that in particular I might not
live in vain。 I prayed for strength and faith； that the monstrous
blundering forces in life might not overwhelm me； might not beat me
back to futility and a meaningless acquiescence in existent things。
I knew myself for the weakling I was； I knew that nevertheless it
was set for me to make such order as I could out of these disorders；
and my task cowed me； gave me at the thought of it a sense of
yielding feebleness。
〃Break me； O God；〃 I prayed at last； 〃disgrace me； torment me；
destroy me as you will； but save me from self…complacency and little
interests and little successes and the life that passes like the
shadow of a dream。〃
BOOK THE THIRD
THE HEART OF POLITICS
CHAPTER THE FIRST
THE RIDDLE FOR THE STATESMAN
1
I have been planning and replanning； writing and rewriting； this
next portion of my book for many days。 I perceive I must leave it
raw edged and ill joined。 I have learnt something of the
impossibility of History。 For all I have had to tell is the story
of one man's convictions and aims and how they reacted upon his
life； and I find it too subtle and involved and intricate for the
doing。 I find it taxes all my powers to convey even the main forms
and forces in that development。 It is like looking through moving
media of changing hue and variable refraction at something vitally
unstable。 Broad theories and generalisations are mingled with
personal influences； with prevalent prejudices； and not only
coloured but altered by phases of hopefulness and moods of
depression。 The web is made up of the most diverse elements； beyond
treatment multitudinous。 。 。 。 For a week or so I desisted
altogether； and walked over the mountains and returned to sit
through the warm soft mornings among the shaded rocks above this
little perched…up house of ours； discussing my difficulties with
Isabel and I think on the whole complicating them further in the
effort to simplify them to manageable and stateable elements。
Let me； nevertheless； attempt a rough preliminary analysis of this
confused process。 A main strand is quite easily traceable。 This
main strand is the story of my obvious life； my life as it must have
looked to most of my acquaintances。 It presents you with a young
couple； bright； hopeful； and energetic； starting out under Altiora's
auspices to make a career。 You figure us well dressed and active；
running about in motor…cars； visiting in great people's houses；
dining amidst brilliant companies； going to the theatre； meeting in
the lobby。 Margaret wore hundreds of beautiful dresses。 We must
have had an air of succeeding meritoriously during that time。
We did very continually and faithfully serve our joint career。 I
thought about it a great deal； and did and refrained from doing ten
thousand things for the sake of it。 I kept up a solicitude for it；
as it were by inertia； long after things had happened and changes
occurred in me that rendered its completion impossible。 Under
certain very artless pretences； we wanted steadfastly to make a
handsome position in the world； achieve respect； SUCCEED。 Enormous
unseen changes had been in progress for years in my mind and the
realities of my life； before our general circle could have had any
inkling of their existence； or suspected the appearances of our
life。 Then suddenly our proceedings began to be deflected； our
outward unanimity visibly strained and marred by the insurgence of
these so long…hidden developments。
That career had its own hidden side； of course； but when I write of
these unseen factors I do not mean that but something altogether
broader。 I do not mean the everyday pettinesses which gave the
cynical observer scope and told of a narrower； baser aspect of the
fair but limited ambitions of my ostensible self。 This 〃sub…
careerist〃 element noted little things that affected the career；
made me suspicious of the rivalry of so…and…so； propitiatory to so…
and…so； whom； as a matter of fact； I didn't respect or feel in the
least sympathetic towards； guarded with that man； who for all his
charm and interest wasn't helpful； and a little touchy at the
appearance of neglect from that。 No； I mean something greater and
not something smaller when I write of a hidden life。
In the ostensible self who glowed under the approbation of Altiora
Bailey； and was envied and discussed； praised and depreciated； in
the House and in smoking…room gossip； you really have as much of a
man as usually figures in a novel or an obituary notice。 But I am
tremendously impressed now in the retrospect by the realisation of
how little that frontage represented me； and just how little such
frontages do represent the complexities of the intelligent
contemporary。 Behind it； yet struggling to disorganise and alter
it； altogether； was a far more essential reality； a self less
personal； less individualised； and broader in its references。 Its
aims were never simply to get on； it had an altogether different
system of demands and satisfactions。 It was critical； curious； more
than a little unfeelingand relentlessly illuminating。
It is just the existence and development of this more generalised
self…behind…the…frontage that is making modern life so much more
subtle and intricate to render； and so much more hopeful in its
relations to the perplexities of the universe。 I see this mental
and spiritual hinterland vary enormously in the people about me；
from a type which seems to keep； as people say； all its goods in the
window； to others who； like myself； come to regard the ostensible
existence more and more as a mere experimental feeder and agent for
that greater personality behind。 And this back…self has its history
of phases； its crises and happy accidents and irrevocable
conclusions； more or less distinct from the adventures and
achievements of the ostensible self。 It meets persons and phrases；
it assimilates the spirit of a book； it is startled into new
realisations by some accident that seems altogether irrelevant to
the general tenor of one's life。 Its increasing independence of the
ostensible career makes it the organ of corrective criticism； it
accumulates disturbing energy。 Then it breaks our overt promises
and repudiates our pledges； coming down at last like an overbearing
mentor upon the small engagements of the pupil。
In the life of the individual it takes the role that the growth of
philosophy； science； and creative literature may play in the
development of mankind。
2
It is curious to recall how Britten helped shatter that obvious；
lucidly explicable presentation of myself upon which I had embarked
with Margaret。 He returned to revive a memory of adolescent dreams
and a habit of adolescent frankness； he reached through my shallow
frontage as no one else seemed capable of doing； and dragged that
back…self into relation with it。
I remember very distinctly a dinner and a subsequent walk with him
which presents itself now as altogether typical of the quality of
his influence。
I had come upon him one day while lunching with Somers and Sutton at
the Playwrights' Club； and had asked him to dinner on the spur of
the moment。 He was oddly the same curly…headed； red…faced
ventriloquist； and oddly different； rather seedy as well as untidy；
and at first a little inclined to make comparisons with my sleek
successfulness。 But that disposition presently evaporated； and his
talk was good and fresh and provocative。 And something that had
long been straining at its checks in my mind flapped over； and he
and I found ourselves of one accord。
Altiora wasn't at this dinner。 When she came matters were apt to
become confusedly strenuous。 There was always a slight and
ineffectual struggle at the end on the part of Margaret