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is like trying to draw the obverse and reverse of a sixpence worn to
complete illegibility。 His tall fine figure stood high on the days；
his thoughtful tenor filled the air as he steered his hazardous way
through sentences that dragged inconclusive tails and dropped
redundant prepositions。 And he pleaded ever so urgently； ever so
finely； that what we all knew for Sin was sinful； and on the whole
best avoided altogether； and so went on with deepening notes and
even with short arresting gestures of the right arm and hand； to
stir and exhort us towards goodness； towards that modern；
unsectarian goodness； goodness in general and nothing in particular；
which the Zeitgeist seemed to indicate in those transitional years。
7
The school never quite got hold of me。 Partly I think that was
because I was a day…boy and so freer than most of the boys； partly
because of a temperamental disposition to see things in my own way
and have my private dreams； partly because I was a little
antagonised by the family traditions that ran through the school。 I
was made to feel at first that I was a rank outsider； and I never
quite forgot it。 I suffered very little bullying； and I never had a
fightin all my time there were only three fightsbut I followed
my own curiosities。 I was already a very keen theologian and
politician before I was fifteen。 I was also intensely interested in
modern warfare。 I read the morning papers in the Reading Room
during the midday recess； never missed the illustrated weeklies； and
often when I could afford it I bought a PALL MALL GAZETTE on my way
home。
I do not think that I was very exceptional in that； most intelligent
boys； I believe； want naturally to be men； and are keenly interested
in men's affairs。 There is not the universal passion for a
magnified puerility among them it is customary to assume。 I was
indeed a voracious reader of everything but boys' bookswhich I
detestedand fiction。 I read histories； travel； popular science
and controversy with particular zest； and I loved maps。 School work
and school games were quite subordinate affairs for me。 I worked
well and made a passable figure at games； and I do not think I was
abnormally insensitive to the fine quality of our school； to the
charm of its mediaeval nucleus； its Gothic cloisters； its scraps of
Palladian and its dignified Georgian extensions； the contrast of the
old quiet； that in spite of our presence pervaded it everywhere；
with the rushing and impending London all about it； was indeed a
continual pleasure to me。 But these things were certainly not the
living and central interests of my life。
I had to conceal my wider outlook to a certain extentfrom the
masters even more than from the boys。 Indeed I only let myself go
freely with one boy； Britten； my especial chum； the son of the
Agent…General for East Australia。 We two discovered in a chance
conversation A PROPOS of a map in the library that we were both of
us curious why there were Malays in Madagascar； and how the Mecca
pilgrims came from the East Indies before steamships were available。
Neither of us had suspected that there was any one at all in the
school who knew or cared a rap about the Indian Ocean； except as
water on the way to India。 But Britten had come up through the Suez
Canal； and his ship had spoken a pilgrim ship on the way。 It gave
him a startling quality of living knowledge。 From these pilgrims we
got to a comparative treatment of religions； and from that； by a
sudden plunge； to entirely sceptical and disrespectful confessions
concerning Gates' last outbreak of simple piety in School Assembly。
We became congenial intimates from that hour。
The discovery of Britten happened to me when we were both in the
Lower Fifth。 Previously there had been a watertight compartment
between the books I read and the thoughts they begot on the one hand
and human intercourse on the other。 Now I really began my higher
education； and aired and examined and developed in conversation the
doubts； the ideas； the interpretations that had been forming in my
mind。 As we were both day…boys with a good deal of control over our
time we organised walks and expeditions together； and my habit of
solitary and rather vague prowling gave way to much more definite
joint enterprises。 I went several times to his house； he was the
youngest of several brothers； one of whom was a medical student and
let us assist at the dissection of a cat； and once or twice in
vacation time he came to Penge； and we went with parcels of
provisions to do a thorough day in the grounds and galleries of the
Crystal Palace； ending with the fireworks at close quarters。 We
went in a river steamboat down to Greenwich； and fired by that made
an excursion to Margate and back； we explored London docks and
Bethnal Green Museum； Petticoat Lane and all sorts of out…of…the…way
places together。
We confessed shyly to one another a common secret vice； 〃Phantom
warfare。〃 When we walked alone； especially in the country； we had
both developed the same practice of fighting an imaginary battle
about us as we walked。 As we went along we were generals； and our
attacks pushed along on either side； crouching and gathering behind
hedges； cresting ridges； occupying copses； rushing open spaces；
fighting from house to house。 The hillsides about Penge were
honeycombed in my imagination with the pits and trenches I had
created to cheek a victorious invader coming out of Surrey。 For him
West Kensington was chiefly important as the scene of a desperate
and successful last stand of insurrectionary troops （who had seized
the Navy； the Bank and other advantages） against a royalist army
reinforced by Germansadvancing for reasons best known to
themselves by way of Harrow and Ealing。 It is a secret and solitary
game； as we found when we tried to play it together。 We made a
success of that only once。 All the way down to Margate we schemed
defences and assailed and fought them as we came back against the
sunset。 Afterwards we recapitulated all that conflict by means of a
large scale map of the Thames and little paper ironclads in plan cut
out of paper。
A subsequent revival of these imaginings was brought about by
Britten's luck in getting； through a friend of his father's；
admission for us both to the spectacle of volunteer officers
fighting the war game in Caxton Hall。 We developed a war game of
our own at Britten's home with nearly a couple of hundred lead
soldiers； some excellent spring cannons that shot hard and true at
six yards； hills of books and a constantly elaborated set of rules。
For some months that occupied an immense proportion of our leisure。
Some of our battles lasted several days。 We kept the game a
profound secret from the other fellows。 They would not have
understood。
And we also began； it was certainly before we were sixteen； to
write； for the sake of writing。 We liked writing。 We had
discovered Lamb and the best of the middle articles in such weeklies
as the SATURDAY GAZETTE； and we imitated them。 Our minds were full
of dim uncertain things we wanted to drag out into the light of
expression。 Britten had got hold of IN MEMORIAM； and I had
disinterred Pope's ESSAY ON MAN and RABBI BEN EZRA； and these things
had set our theological and cosmic solicitudes talking。 I was
somewhere between sixteen and eighteen； I know； when he and I walked
along the Thames Embankment confessing shamefully to one another
that we had never read Lucretius。 We thought every one who mattered
had read Lucretius。
When I was nearly sixteen my mother was taken ill very suddenly； and
died of some perplexing complaint that involved a post…mortem
examination； it was； I think； the trouble that has since those days
been recognised as appendicitis。 This led to a considerable change
in my circumstances； the house at Penge was given up； and my
Staffordshire uncle arranged for me to lodge during school terms
with a needy solicitor and his wife in Vicars Street； S。 W。； about a
mile and a half from the school。 So it was I came right into
London； I had almost two years of London before I went to Cambridge。
Tehose were our great days together。 Afterwards we were torn apart；
Britten went to Oxford； and our circumstances never afterwards threw
us continuously together until the days of the BLUE WEEKLY。
As boys； we walked together； read and discussed the same books；
pursued the same enquiries。 We got a reputation as inseparables and
the nickname of the Rose and the Lily； for Britten was short and
thick…set with dark close curling hair and a ruddy Irish type of
face； I was lean and fair…haired and some inches taller than he。
Our talk ranged widely and yet had certain very definite
limitations。 We were ama