clear-headed Socialist (that is, a Socialist with a creed) can be a
soldier, like Mr. Blatchford, or a Don, like Mr. Ball, or a Bathchairman
like Mr. Meeke, or a clergyman like Mr. Conrad Noel, or an artistic
tradesman like the late Mr. William Morris.

But some people call themselves Socialists, and will not be bound by what
they call a narrow dogma; they say that Socialism means far, far more than
this; all that is high, all that is free, all that is, etc., etc. Now
mark their dreadful fate; for they become totally unfit to be tradesmen,
or soldiers, or clergymen, or any other stricken human thing, but become a
particular sort of person who is always the same. When once it has been
discovered that Socialism does not mean a narrow economic formula, it is
also discovered that Socialism does mean wearing one particular kind of
clothes, reading one particular kind of books, hanging up one particular
kind of pictures, and in the majority of cases even eating one particular
kind of food. For men must recognise each other somehow. These men will
not know each other by a principle, like fellow citizens. They cannot know
each other by a smell, like dogs. So they have to fall back on general
colouring; on the fact that a man of their sort will have a wife in pale
green and Walter Crane's "Triumph of Labour" hanging in the hall.

There are, of course, many other instances; for modern society is almost
made up of these large monochrome patches. Thus I, for one, regret the
supersession of the old Puritan unity, founded on theology, but embracing
all types from Milton to the grocer, by that newer Puritan unity which is
founded rather on certain social habits, certain common notions, both
permissive and prohibitive, in connection with Particular social pleasures.


Thus I, for one, regret that (if you are going to have an aristocracy) it