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Carlyle impressed upon us that the only history worth consideration 
was the life of great men and women; and Tennyson that we 〃needs must 
love the highest。〃  So literature; striving ever upward; ignores 
plain Romola for the Lady Ponsonby de Tompkins; the provincialisms of 
a Charlotte Bronte for what a certain critic; born before his time; 
would have called the 〃doin's of the hupper succles。〃

The British Drama has advanced by even greater bounds。  It takes 
place now exclusively within castle walls; andwhat Messrs。 Lumley & 
Co。's circular would describe as〃desirable town mansions; suitable 
for gentlemen of means。〃  A living dramatist; who should know; tells 
us that drama does not occur in the back parlour。  Dramatists have; 
it has been argued; occasionally found it there; but such may have 
been dramatists with eyes capable of seeing through clothes。

I once wrote a play which I read to a distinguished Manager。  He said 
it was a most interesting play:  they always say that。  I waited; 
wondering to what other manager he would recommend me to take it。  To 
my surprise he told me he would like it for himselfbut with 
alterations。

〃The whole thing wants lifting up;〃 was his opinion。  〃Your hero is a 
barrister:  my public take no interest in plain barristers。  Make him 
the Solicitor General。〃

〃But he's got to be amusing;〃 I argued。  〃A Solicitor General is 
never amusing。〃

My Manager pondered for a moment。  〃Let him be Solicitor General for 
Ireland;〃 he suggested。

I made a note of it。

〃Your heroine;〃 he continued; 〃is the daughter of a seaside lodging…
house keeper。  My public do not recognize seaside lodgings。  Why not 
the daughter of an hotel proprietor?  Even that will be risky; but we 
might venture it。〃  An inspiration came to him。  〃Or better still; 
let the old man be the Managing Director of an hotel Trust:  that 
would account for her clothes。〃

Unfortunately I put the thing aside for a few months; and when I was 
ready again the public taste had still further advanced。  The doors 
of the British Drama were closed for the time being on all but 
members of the aristocracy; and I did not see my comic old man as a 
Marquis; which was the lowest title that just then one dared to offer 
to a low comedian。

Now how are we middle…class novelists and dramatists to continue to 
live?  I am aware of the obvious retort; but to us it absolutely is 
necessary。  We know only parlours:  we call them drawing…rooms。  At 
the bottom of our middle…class hearts we regard them fondly:  the 
folding…doors thrown back; they make rather a fine apartment。  The 
only drama that we know takes place in such rooms:  the hero sitting 
in the gentleman's easy chair; of green repp:  the heroine in the 
lady's ditto; without armsthe chair; I mean。  The scornful glances; 
the bitter words of our middle…class world are hurled across these 
three…legged loo…tables; the wedding…cake ornament under its glass 
case playing the part of white ghost。

In these days; when 〃Imperial cement〃 is at a premium; who would dare 
suggest that the emotions of a parlour can by any possibility be the 
same as those exhibited in a salon furnished in the style of Louis 
Quatorze; that the tears of Bayswater can possibly be compared for 
saltness with the lachrymal fluid distilled from South Audley Street 
glands; that the laughter of Clapham can be as catching as the 
cultured cackle of Curzon Street?  But we; whose best clothes are 
exhibited only in parlours; what are we to do?  How can we lay bare 
the souls of Duchesses; explain the heart…throbs of peers of the 
realm?  Some of my friends who; being Conservative; attend Primrose 
〃tourneys〃 (or is it 〃Courts of love〃?  I speak as an outsider。  
Something mediaeval; I know it is) do; it is true; occasionally 
converse with titled ladies。  But the period for conversation is 
always limited owing to the impatience of the man behind; and I doubt 
if the interview is ever of much practical use to them; as conveying 
knowledge of the workings of the aristocratic mind。  Those of us who 
are not Primrose Knights miss even this poor glimpse into the world 
above us。  We know nothing; simply nothing; concerning the deeper 
feelings of the upper ten。  Personally; I once received a letter from 
an Earl; but that was in connection with a dairy company of which his 
lordship was chairman; and spoke only of his lordship's views 
concerning milk and the advantages of the cash system。  Of what I 
really wished to knowhis lordship's passions; yearnings and general 
attitude to lifethe circular said nothing。

Year by year I find myself more and more in a minority。  One by one 
my literary friends enter into this charmed aristocratic circle; 
after which one hears no more from them regarding the middle…classes。  
At once they set to work to describe the mental sufferings of Grooms 
of the Bed…chamber; the hidden emotions of Ladies in their own right; 
the religious doubts of Marquises。  I want to know how they do it
〃how the devil they get there。〃  They refuse to tell me。

Meanwhile; I see nothing before me but the workhouse。  Year by year 
the public grows more impatient of literature dealing merely with the 
middle…classes。  I know nothing about any other class。  What am I to 
do?

Commonplace peoplefriends of mine without conscience; counsel me in 
flippant phrase to 〃have a shot at it。〃

〃I expect; old fellow; you know just as much about it as these other 
Johnnies do。〃  (I am not defending their conversation either as 
regards style or matter:  I am merely quoting。)  〃And even if you 
don't; what does it matter?  The average reader knows less。  How is 
he to find you out?〃

But; as I explain to them; it is the law of literature never to write 
except about what you really know。  I want to mix with the 
aristocracy; study them; understand them; so that I may earn my 
living in the only way a literary man nowadays can earn his living; 
namely; by writing about the upper circles。

I want to know how to get there。



CHAPTER IV



'Man and his Master。'

There is one thing that the Anglo…Saxon does better than the 〃French; 
or Turk; or Rooshian;〃 to which add the German or the Belgian。  When 
the Anglo…Saxon appoints an official; he appoints a servant:  when 
the others put a man in uniform; they add to their long list of 
masters。  If among your acquaintances you can discover an American; 
or Englishman; unfamiliar with the continental official; it is worth 
your while to accompany him; the first time he goes out to post a 
letter; say。  He advances towards the post…office a breezy; self…
confident gentleman; borne up by pride of race。  While mounting the 
steps he talks airily of 〃just getting this letter off his mind; and 
then picking up Jobson and going on to Durand's for lunch。〃

He talks as if he had the whole day before him。  At the top of the 
steps he attempts to push open the door。  It will not move。  He looks 
about him; and discovers that is the door of egress; not of ingress。  
It does not seem to him worth while redescending the twenty steps and 
climbing another twenty。  So far as he is concerned he is willing to 
pull the door; instead of pushing it。  But a stern official bars his 
way; and haughtily indicates the proper entrance。  〃Oh; bother;〃 he 
says; and down he trots again; and up the other flight。

〃I shall not be a minute;〃 he remarks over his shoulder。  〃You can 
wait for me outside。〃

But if you know your way about; you follow him in。  There are seats 
within; and you have a newspaper in your pocket:  the time will pass 
more pleasantly。  Inside he looks round; bewildered。  The German 
post…office; generally speaking; is about the size of the Bank of 
England。  Some twenty different windows confront your troubled 
friend; each one bearing its own particular legend。  Starting with 
number one; he sets to work to spell them out。  It appears to him 
that the posting of letters is not a thing that the German post…
office desires to encourage。  Would he not like a dog licence 
instead? is what one window suggests to him。  〃Oh; never mind that 
letter of you

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