disturbing problem raised by the "conscientious objector"; little by
little, however, the rest of us became silent, to listen to a debate
which had begun between the labour leader and the ship-builder on the
"labour question." It is not my purpose here to record what they said.
Needless to add that they did not wholly agree, but they were much nearer
to agreement than one would have thought possible. What was interesting
was the open-mindedness with which, on both sides, the argument was
conducted, and the fact that it could seriously take place then and
there. For the subject of it had long been the supreme problem in the
lives of both these men, their feelings concerning it must at times have
been tinged with bitterness, yet they spoke with courtesy and restraint,
and though each maintained his contentions he was quick to acknowledge a
point made by the other. As one listened one was led to hope that a
happier day is perhaps at hand when such things as "complexes" and
convictions will disappear.

The types of these two were in striking contrast. The labour leader was
stocky, chestnut-coloured, vital, possessing the bulldog quality of the
British self-made man combined with a natural wit, sharpened in the
arena, that often startled the company into an appreciative laughter.
The ship-builder, on the other hand, was one of those spare and hard
Englishmen whom no amount of business cares will induce to neglect the
exercise of his body, the obligation at all times to keep "fit";
square-rigged, as it were, with a lean face and a wide moustache
accentuating a square chin. Occasionally a gleam of humour, a ray of
idealism, lighted his practical grey eyes. Each of these two had managed
rather marvellously to triumph over early training by self-education: the
labour leader, who had had his first lessons in life from injustices and
hard knocks; and the ship-builder, who had overcome the handicap of the
public-school tradition and of Manchester economics.