ualities sweetly flattered him. When he went, home to the public-house
after a lively debate, and described the proceedings to his brother
Nicholas, he always ended by declaring that it was 'as good as a play.'

He read the 'Tocsin,' that is to say, he glanced his eye up and down the
columns and paused wherever he caught words such as 'villains,' 'titled
scoundrels,' 'vampires,' and so on. The expositions of doctrine he
passed over; anything in the nature of reasoning muddled him. From
hearing them incessantly repeated he knew the root theories of
Socialism, and could himself hold forth on such texts as 'the community
of the means of production' with considerable fluency and vehemence;
but in very fact he concerned himself as little with economic reforms as
with the principles of high art, and had as little genuine belief in the
promised revolution as in the immortality of his own soul. Had he been
called upon to suffer in any way for the 'cause of the people,' it would
speedily have been demonstrated of what metal his enthusiasm was made.

But there came a different kind of test. In the winter which followed
upon Mutimer's downfall, Nicholas Dabbs fell ill and died. He was
married but had no children, and his wife had been separated from him
for several years. His brother Daniel found himself in flourishing
circumstances, with a public-house which brought in profits of forty
pounds a week It goes without saying that Daniel forthwith abandoned his
daily labour and installed himself behind the bar. The position suited
him admirably; with a barmaid and a potman at his orders (he paid them
no penny more than the market rate), he stood about in his shirt sleeves
and gossiped from morn to midnight with such of his friends as had
leisure (and money) to spend in the temple of Bacchus. From the day
that saw him a licensed victualler he ceased to attend the Socialist
meetings; it was, of course, a sufficient explanation to point to the
fact that he could not be in two places at the same time, for Sunday
evening is a season of brisk business in the liquor trade. At first he
was reticent on the subject of his old convictions, but by degrees he
found it possible to achieve the true innkeeper's art, and speak freely
in a way which could offend none of his customers. And he believed
himself every bit as downright and sincere as he had ever been.

Comfortably established on a capitalist basis, his future assured
because it depended u