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the Blackfriars。
I heard the paper's name with a queer little shock and surveyed the 
man with interest。  No doubt he was only a successor of the purveyor 
of discords who darkened my boyhood。  It was amazing to find an 
influence so terrible embodied in a creature so palpably petty。  He 
was seated some way down a table at right angles to the one at which 
I sat; a man of mean appearance with a greyish complexion; thin; 
with a square nose; a heavy wiry moustache and a big Adam's apple 
sticking out between the wings of his collar。  He ate with 
considerable appetite and unconcealed relish; and as his jaw was 
underhung; he chummed and made the moustache wave like reeds in the 
swell of a steamer。  It gave him a conscientious look。  After dinner 
he a little forced himself upon me。  At that time; though the shadow 
of my scandal was already upon me; I still seemed to be shaping for 
great successes; and he was glad to be in conversation with me and 
anxious to intimate political sympathy and support。  I tried to make 
him talk of the HOME CHURCHMAN and the kindred publications he ran; 
but he was manifestly ashamed of his job so far as I was concerned。
〃One wants;〃 he said; pitching himself as he supposed in my key; 〃to 
put constructive ideas into our readers; but they are narrow; you 
know; very narrow。  Very。〃  He made his moustache and lips express 
judicious regret。  〃One has to consider them carefully; one has to 
respect their attitudes。  One dare not go too far with them。  One 
has to feel one's way。〃
He chummed and the moustache bristled。
A hireling; beyond question; catering for a demand。  I gathered 
there was a home in Tufnell Park; and three boys to be fed and 
clothed and educated。 。 。 。
I had the curiosity to buy a copy of his magazine afterwards; and it 
seemed much the same sort of thing that had worried my mother in my 
boyhood。  There was the usual Christian hero; this time with mutton…
chop whiskers and a long bare upper lip。  The Jesuits; it seemed; 
were still hard at it; and Heaven frightfully upset about the Sunday 
opening of museums and the falling birth…rate; and as touchy and 
vindictive as ever。  There were two vigorous paragraphs upon the 
utter damnableness of the Rev。 R。 J。 Campbell; a contagious 
damnableness I gathered; one wasn't safe within a mile of Holborn 
Viaduct; and a foul…mouthed attack on poor little Wilkins the 
novelistwho was being baited by the moralists at that time for 
making one of his big women characters; not being in holy wedlock; 
desire a baby and say so。 。 。 。
The broadening of human thought is a slow and complex process。  We 
do go on; we do get on。  But when one thinks that people are living 
and dying now; quarrelling and sulking; misled and misunderstanding; 
vaguely fearful; condemning and thwarting one another in the close 
darknesses of these narrow cultsOh; God! one wants a gale out of 
Heaven; one wants a great wind from the sea!
3
While I lived at Penge two little things happened to me; trivial in 
themselves and yet in their quality profoundly significant。  They 
had this in common; that they pierced the texture of the life I was 
quietly taking for granted and let me see through it into realities
realities I had indeed known about before but never realised。  Each 
of these experiences left me with a sense of shock; with all the 
values in my life perplexingly altered; attempting readjustment。  
One of these disturbing and illuminating events was that I was 
robbed of a new pocket…knife and the other that I fell in love。  It 
was altogether surprising to me to be robbed。  You see; as an only 
child I had always been fairly well looked after and protected; and 
the result was an amazing confidence in the practical goodness of 
the people one met in the world。  I knew there were robbers in the 
world; just as I knew there were tigers; that I was ever likely to 
meet robber or tiger face to face seemed equally impossible。
The knife as I remember it was a particularly jolly one with all 
sorts of instruments in it; tweezers and a thing for getting a stone 
out of the hoof of a horse; and a corkscrew; it had cost me a 
carefuly accumulated half…crown; and amounted indeed to a new 
experience in knives。  I had had it for two or three days; and then 
one afternoon I dropped it through a hole in my pocket on a footpath 
crossing a field between Penge and Anerley。  I heard it fall in the 
way one does without at the time appreciating what had happened; 
then; later; before I got home; when my hand wandered into my pocket 
to embrace the still dear new possession I found it gone; and 
instantly that memory of something hitting the ground sprang up into 
consciousness。  I went back and commenced a search。  Almost 
immediately I was accosted by the leader of a little gang of four or 
five extremely dirty and ragged boys of assorted sizes and slouching 
carriage who were coming from the Anerley direction。
〃Lost anythink; Matey?〃 said he。
I explained。
〃'E's dropped 'is knife;〃 said my interlocutor; and joined in the 
search。
〃What sort of 'andle was it; Matey?〃 said a small white…faced 
sniffing boy in a big bowler hat。
I supplied the information。  His sharp little face scrutinised the 
ground about us。
〃GOT it;〃 he said; and pounced。
〃Give it 'ere;〃 said the big boy hoarsely; and secured it。
I walked towards him serenely confident that he would hand it over 
to me; and that all was for the best in the best of all possible 
worlds。
〃No bloomin' fear!〃 he said; regarding me obliquely。  〃Oo said it 
was your knife?〃
Remarkable doubts assailed me。  〃Of course it's my knife;〃 I said。  
The other boys gathered round me。
〃This ain't your knife;〃 said the big boy; and spat casually。
〃I dropped it just now。〃
〃Findin's keepin's; I believe;〃 said the big boy。
〃Nonsense;〃 I said。  〃Give me my knife。〃
〃'Ow many blades it got?〃
〃Three。〃
〃And what sort of 'andle?〃
〃Bone。〃
〃Got a corkscrew like?〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Ah!  This ain't your knife no'ow。  See?〃
He made no offer to show it to me。  My breath went。
〃Look here!〃 I said。  〃I saw that kid pick it up。  It IS my knife。〃
〃Rot!〃 said the big boy; and slowly; deliberately put my knife into 
his trouser pocket。
I braced my soul for battle。  All civilisation was behind me; but I 
doubt if it kept the colour in my face。  I buttoned my jacket and 
clenched my fists and advanced on my antagonisthe had; I suppose; 
the advantage of two years of age and three inches of height。  〃Hand 
over that knife;〃 I said。
Then one of the smallest of the band assailed me with extraordinary 
vigour and swiftness from behind; had an arm round my neck and a 
knee in my back before I had the slightest intimation of attack; and 
so got me down。  〃I got 'im; Bill;〃 squeaked this amazing little 
ruffian。  My nose was flattened by a dirty hand; and as I struck out 
and hit something like sacking; some one kicked my elbow。  Two or 
three seemed to be at me at the same time。  Then I rolled over and 
sat up to discover them all making off; a ragged flight; footballing 
my cap; my City Merchants' cap; amongst them。  I leapt to my feet in 
a passion of indignation and pursued them。
But I did not overtake them。  We are beings of mixed composition; 
and I doubt if mine was a single…minded pursuit。  I knew that honour 
required me to pursue; and I had a vivid impression of having just 
been down in the dust with a very wiry and active and dirty little 
antagonist of disagreeable odour and incredible and incalculable 
unscrupulousness; kneeling on me and gripping my arm and neck。  I 
wanted of course to be even with him; but also I doubted if catching 
him would necessarily involve that。  They kicked my cap into the 
ditch at the end of the field; and made off compactly along a cinder 
lane while I turned aside to recover my dishonoured headdress。  As I 
knocked the dust out of that and out of my jacket; and brushed my 
knees and readjusted my very crumpled collar; I tried to focus this 
startling occurrence in my mind。
I had vague ideas of going to a policeman or of complaining at a 
police station; but some boyish instinct against informing prevented 
that。  No doubt I entertained ideas of vindictive pursuit and 
murderous reprisals。  And I was acutely enraged whenever I thought 
of my knife。  The thing indeed rankled in my mind for weeks and 
weeks; and altered all the flavour of my world for me。  It was the 
first time I glimpsed the simple brute violence that lurks and peeps 
beneath our civilisation。  A certain kindly complacency of attitude 
towards the palpably lower classes was qualified for ever
4
But the other experience was still more cardinal。  It was the first 
clear intimation of