About tea-time I went back to Amos's lodgings, and spent an
hour or so writing a long letter to Mr Ivery. I described to him
everybody I had met, I gave highly coloured views of the explosive
material on the Clyde, and I deplored the lack of clearheadedness
in the progressive forces. I drew an elaborate picture of Amos, and
deduced from it that the Radicals were likely to be a bar to true
progress. 'They have switched their old militancy,' I wrote, 'on to
another track, for with them it is a matter of conscience to be
always militant.' I finished up with some very crude remarks on
economics culled from the table-talk of the egregious Tombs. It
was the kind of letter which I hoped would establish my character
in his mind as an industrious innocent.

Seven o'clock found me in Newmilns Street, where I was seized
upon by Wilkie. He had put on a clean collar for the occasion and
had partially washed his thin face. The poor fellow had a cough
that shook him like the walls of a power-house when the dynamos
are going.

He was very apologetic about Amos. 'Andra belongs to a past
worrld,' he said. 'He has a big reputation in his society, and he's a
fine fighter, but he has no kind of Vision, if ye understand me. He's
an auld Gladstonian, and that's done and damned in Scotland. He's
not a Modern, Mr Brand, like you and me. But tonight ye'll meet
one or two chaps that'll be worth your while to ken. Ye'll maybe
no go quite as far as them, but ye're on the same road. I'm hoping
for the day when we'll have oor Councils of Workmen and Soldiers
like the Russians all over the land and dictate our terms to the
pawrasites in Pawrliament. They tell me, too, the boys in the