“And what is that?” I asked.
“The only exception is—when he’s a jolly sight better!” answered Mr. Bright. “You must judge of a man by himself, not by the accidents of birth or cash. The tailor next door has won his place in the world by hard work and sense and brains; therefore he has a perfect right to reserve his judgment, so far as you are concerned, until he sees what you are good for. And, seeing that he’s got probably a thousand pounds to every one of your shillings, the spectacle of you advancing a quid on your clothes—to keep him going—naturally amused him.”
This was my first introduction to political economy and the rights of man, so naturally I found it exceedingly interesting. In fact, so much did the force of Mr. Bright’s arguments impress me that, in a week, I was an advanced Socialist, and going too far altogether in the opposite direction.
But now an exciting event claims my attention; for at the West-End Branch a fresh duty devolved upon me, and I had to attend upon the Directors of the Company, when they dropped in from time to time to put their signatures to the new policies. Every policy had the signature of two Directors upon it, otherwise it was not a complete legal document; so the great men came occasionally, and I had to stand beside them, blotting-paper in hand, and blot their names as they wrote them, and draw away each policy in turn as it was signed.
Judge of my great pleasure when who should arrive one morning to put his signature to policies but my old friend, Mr. Pepys! I carried in a hundred policies for his attention, and beamed upon him with the utmost heartiness; but only to be met by a look of polite, but complete, unrecognition! It was, as it were, a further illustration of the great gulf between capital and labour—Mr. Pepys, of course, standing for the former commodity. But, though he did not associate me with his past, Mr. Pepys was exceedingly polite. He adopted the genial manner of a man who falls in with a strange but friendly dog, and encourages it.
After signing twenty policies, he tired and sighed and had to rest. Then, being the kindliest of men, he addressed a few words to me on an official subject.
“Had any fires lately?” he asked.
But I didn’t know in the least, as fires, of course, belonged to one of the highest branches of the subject. I chanced it, however, and said:
“Nothing of much consequence, sir.”
“Good!” he answered. Then he was seized with a sudden fit of caution.