g
about in my mind. You know that I have long enough tried to find work,
but I have been misled by the common tendency of the time. Those who
want to be of social usefulness for the most part attack the lowest
stratum. It seems like going to the heart of the problem, of course,
and any one who has means finds there the hope of readiest
result--material result. But I think that the really practical task is
the most neglected, just because it does not appear so pressing. With
the mud at the bottom of society we can practically do nothing; only
the vast changes to be wrought by time will cleanse that foulness, by
destroying the monstrous wrong which produces it. What I should like to
attempt would be the spiritual education of the upper artisan and
mechanic class. At present they are all but wholly in the hands of men
who can do them nothing but harm--journalists, socialists, vulgar
propagators of what is called freethought. These all work against
culture, yet here is the field really waiting for the right tillage. I
often have in mind one or two of the men at our factory in Lambeth.
They are well-conducted and intelligent fellows, but, save for a vague
curiosity, I should say they live without conscious aim beyond that of
keeping their families in comfort. They have no religion, a matter of
course; they talk incessantly of politics, knowing nothing better; but
they are very far above the gross multitude. I believe such men as
these have a great part to play in social development--that, in fact,
_they_ may become the great social reformers, working on those above
them--the froth of society--no less than on those below.'

He had laid down his half-finished cigar, and, having begun in a
scrupulously moderate tone, insensibly warmed to the idealist fervour.
His face became more mobile, his eyes gave forth all their light, his
voice was musically modulated as he proceeded in his demonstration. He
addressed himself to Annabel, perhaps unconscious of doing so
exclusively.

Mr. Newthorpe muttered something of assent. Paula was listening
intently, but as one who hears of strange, far-off things, very
difficult of realisation.

'Now suppose one took a handful of such typical men,' Egremont went on,
'and tried to inspire them with a moral ideal. At present they have
nothing of the kind, but they own the instincts of decency, and that is
much. I would make use of the tendency to association, which is so
strong among them. They ha