extravagance as another. England
was fantastically rich; and some of the very rich allowed some of the
very clever to wheedle from them great sums of money, knowing all the
time that these would be applied to such unsettling activities as the
education of thankless labourers or anti-sweating propaganda. Even
towards Art rolled a few coppers; indeed, the best painter in England
tells me that about this time he was earning as much as two hundred a
year. It was thought odd but not shameful in Mr. Thomas Beecham to spend
some part of his father's fortune on producing modern music and the
operas of Mozart. In fact, it was coming to be a question whether there
was anything essentially ridiculous about a musician, a poet, or a
Socialist. _Punch_ was rarely seen in the best houses. For a few dizzy
years it was wildly surmised that to found a civilization might be as
thrilling as to found a family, and that one could be as romantic and
snobbish about Art as about bull-dogs or battleships. To be open-minded
became modish; people with interesting, subversive things to say were
encouraged to talk--always provided they talked with an air of not
taking quite seriously what they said. The poor were repressed as firmly
as ever, but the job was left to such paid bullies as constables,
magistrates, and judges, whom the nicer patricians employed, but took
leave to despise.

In 1914 what in England is called "Society" gave promise of becoming
what it had not been since the French Revolution--something that a
fastidious person could tolerate. It was becoming open-minded. Now
open-mindedness is the _sine qua non_ of what is called "brilliant
society," and brilliant society is by far the best manure with which to
fertilize the soil in which revolutions are to be cultivated. Only when
Society becomes clever and inquisitive, and wants to be amused, does it
open its doors to reformers, and only in such society can most
reformers--reformers, that is to say, who have not been born with an
exceptional gift of self-criticism--acquire that sense of humour and
dash of cynicism lacking which they perish.

Society to be good must be open-minded; without that there can be
neither wit nor gaiety nor conversation worth the name. Prejudices and
pruderies, respect of persons, reverence of sentiments, and
consideration for the corns of the dull are fatal. On such terms even
fun and high spirits soon degenerate to buffoonery and romps. There must
be no close