Megalomaniacs

Sunday, February 21st., Cadogan Square, London.

One of the advantages of living here is that I am favourably situated for visits to Hyde Park. I was there today. I have joined congregations on scores and scores of occasions and have always been disappointed. I was again today. By the preachers, not by the experience which is usually instructive of human psychology. 

I stood for a while watching a girl preaching. She had seven or eight official supporters including two nice-looking girls much younger than herself. She 'held forth' - no other phrase would serve as well - in a strident voice, and with gestures both monotonous and violent, to a numerous crowd. She had nothing whatever to say except: "Seek God", and she said it many times over. No reasons or explanations were offered. The formula seemed to satisfy her. One of her supporters, an old man, hatless in the chilly breeze, ejaculated at intervals: "Praise God" and "Amen". 

More interesting was another group at the core of which two men were arguing upon God. One of them had just been preaching and now he was being 'tested'. They argued in quiet reasonable tones. Indeed so quietly that only the half dozen people nearest to them could hear what was said. The rest of us craned our necks in vain to catch some words of wisdom. The debaters were magnanimous to one another. Evidently their aim was not victory but truth, and neither appeared susceptible to persuasion in any case. So why debate at all, I thought? The argument proceeded for a long time and I observed the unfed crowd which went on hoping for crumbs and didn't get any.

Close by a smaller congregation listened to the polite contentions of two aged men who were smoking cigarettes. Again the same quiet reasonable tones, as of intellects well able to handle the most majestic and exciting themes without any inward disturbance. I heard one question: "Well then what do you call the thing that thinks? Do you call it the brain?" But the wind and the dull roar of Oxford Street traffic witheld the answer from me. I didn't feel much sense of loss.

I am convinced that the leading characteristic of the majority of the preachers is simple megalomania. I have never heard a single remark denoting any originality or vigour of mind. In contrast I have heard good effective speaking in the side streets of Glasgow on a Saturday night. The speakers however were advocating not godliness but birth control. Their object was to sell pamphlets about contraception, and they sold them.

Princely

Wednesday, December 16th., Central Station Hotel, Glasgow.

 

Marguerite has written to say that she has now read "These Twain" and finds it "good". It is the most I can expect as she must have recognised at least a little of my depiction of the quarrels between Edwin and Hilda. Would she feel flattered to see herself as Hilda? I don't know. In any case she is not Hilda, though there are aspects of the marital relationship which are drawn from life, as it were. There was a promise of a renewal of tender relations implicit in the letter. That is something to look forward to on my return. Must keep up my strength!

I am being treated very well on my travels. Neil Munro, Scotland's foremost novelist, was waiting for me at the station yesterday evening, with John Richmond. Richmond is an art collector as well as a successful industrialist, a partner in the firm of C. & J. Weir. We have become good friends since our first meeting in 1909, and had a long chat in the evening. We became quite intimate and Richmond confided that he had been made quite uncomfortable when he last came to Comarques by Marguerite's provocation of myself. Said he admired my ability to maintain command of myself, to remain calm and uniformly courteous. More than he could have done he said. I disclosed something of my feelings about the increasing difficulty of living with Marguerite.

Our conversation was at Richmond's house in Glasgow. His wife was not there, She is in the new country house 100 kilometres away. His sister-in-law was there - very Scottish and very intelligent; a fine woman. I thought it a little strange that she was there whilst his wife was not, and sensed some 'tension' in the atmosphere, but he made no revelation. Quite possibly there is nothing to reveal. He is keen to read "These Twain", and may find it interesting!

In general the Scots are much better educated than the English. But they have a terrible accent. I can hardly understand the hotel servants and they can hardly understand me. This hotel is good with big rooms, solid and provincial. The bathroom is perfectly equipped. I slept quite well, and have stood up to the travelling admirably well. Yesterday was an awesome day, visiting factories etc., followed by a party at the Arts Club. Richmond sent his car, with driver, for my use. The greatest advantage of being a novelist whose novels are liked by serious people is that one is treated better than a prince.

Streets of Glasgow

Sunday, September 26th., Glasgow.

We drove in Richmond's open car yesterday up W. side of Loch Lomond and past Lochearnhead and home by Stirling. About 135 miles. Driving rain and mist nearly all day, so that we saw Scotland in a characteristic aspect. 

After dinner at the hotel, 10 p.m., we went out to view the streets. Renfield Street and Sauchiehall Street crowded with people, largely young. many picture palaces. In quiet side streets off Renfield Street and Sauchiehall Street I noticed large knots of men. It took me some time to find out what they were doing. The largest group was a thick ring; in the middle a man about 32 was quickly selling tracts. His speech was finished. He had some scrap with a man in the crowd, but apologised and said he had no intention of being discourteous. At last I discovered that he was an advocate of birth control. He must have been doing pretty well out of it.

In a smaller group a man was advocating something about franchise. He argued with his little audience whose nearest faces were within a foot of his own. A few others craned their necks to listen. The social tone of the argument was admirable. These street phenomena seemed to show how Scotchmen like argument. Not one woman in these little crowds. Presently two pairs of tall policemen from different directions converged on the two groups and very quickly and persuasively broke them up. 

Waiter in coffee room at hotel didn't know that riz de veau meant sweetbread; in fact asserted that it didn't. It often happens that waiters don't know at all what they are selling. They ought to be told in detail every day.

Additionally for September 26th., see 'Returning home' - http://earnoldbennett.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/returning-home.html

Ever since I left Paris I have wanted to come back, and now I have!