Two things I noticed at once when I sat down to meat. First, that the
people seated at that inn table were of the middle-class of society,
and secondly, that I, though of their rank, was an impediment to their
enjoyment. For to sleep in woods, to march some seventy miles, the
latter part in a dazzling sun, and to end by sliding down an earthy
steep into the road, stamps a man with all that this kind of people
least desire to have thrust upon them. And those who blame the
middle-class for their conventions in such matters, and who profess to
be above the care for cleanliness and clothes and social ritual which
marks the middle-class, are either anarchists by nature, or fools who
take what is but an effect of their wealth for a natural virtue.
I say it roundly; if it were not for the punctiliousness of the
middle-class in these matters all our civilization would go to pieces.
They are the conservators and the maintainers of the standard, the
moderators of Europe, the salt of society. For the kind of man who
boasts that he does not mind dirty clothes or roughing it, is either a
man who cares nothing for all that civilization has built up and who
rather hates it, or else (and this is much more common) he is a rich
man, or accustomed to live among the rich, and can afford to waste
energy and stuff because he feels in a vague way that more clothes can
always be bought, that at the end of his vagabondism he can get
excellent dinners, and that London and Paris are full of luxurious
baths and barber shops. Of all the corrupting effects of wealth there
is none worse than this, that it makes the wealthy (and their
parasites) think in some way divine, or at least a lovely character of
the mind, what is in truth nothing but their power of luxurious
living. Heaven keep us all from great riches - I mean from very great
riches.
Now the middle-class cannot afford to buy new clothes whenever they
feel inclined, neither can they end up a jaunt by a Turkish bath and a
great feast with wine. So their care is always to preserve intact what
they happen to have, to exceed in nothing, to study cleanliness,
order, decency, sobriety, and a steady temper, and they fence all this
round and preserve it in the only way it can be preserved, to wit,
with conventions, and they are quite right.
I find it very hard to keep up to the demands of these my colleagues,
but I recognize that they are on the just side in the quarrel; let
none of them go about pretending that I have not defended them in this
book.
So I thought of how I should put myself right with these people. I saw
that an elaborate story (as, that I had been set upon by a tramp who
forced me to change clothes: that I dressed thus for a bet: that I was
an officer employed as a spy, and was about to cross the frontier into
Germany in the guise of a labourer: that my doctor forbade me to
shave - or any other such rhodo-montade): I saw, I say, that by
venturing upon any such excuses I might unwittingly offend some other
unknown canon of theirs deeper and more sacred than their rule on
clothes; it had happened to me before now to do this in the course of
explanations.
So I took another method, and said, as I sat down -
'Pray excuse this appearance of mine. I have had a most unfortunate
adventure in the hills, losing my way and being compelled to sleep out
all night, nor can I remain to get tidy, as it is essential that I
should reach my luggage (which is at Remiremont) before midnight.'
I took great care to pay for my glass of white wine before dinner with
a bank-note, and I showed my sketches to my neighbour to make an
impression. I also talked of foreign politics, of the countries I had
seen, of England especially, with such minute exactitude that their
disgust was soon turned to admiration.
The hostess of this inn was delicate and courteous to a degree, and at
every point attempting to overreach her guests, who, as regularly as
she attacked, countered with astonishing dexterity.
Thus she would say: 'Perhaps the joint would taste better if it were
carved on the table; or do the gentlemen prefer it carved aside?'
To which a banker opposite me said in a deep voice: 'We prefer, madam,
to have it carved aside.'
Or she would put her head in and say: 'I can recommend our excellent
beer. It is really preferable to this local wine.'
And my neighbour, a tourist, answered with decision: 'Madame, we find
your wine excellent. It could not be bettered.'
Nor could she get round them on a single point, and I pitied her so
much that I bought bread and wine off her to console her, and I let
her overcharge me, and went out into the afterglow with her
benediction, followed also by the farewells of the middle-class, who
were now taking their coffee at little tables outside the house.
I went hard up the road to Remiremont. The night darkened. I reached
Remiremont at midnight, and feeling very wakeful I pushed on up the
valley under great woods of pines; and at last, diverging up a little
path, I settled on a clump of trees sheltered and, as I thought, warm,
and lay down there to sleep till morning; but, on the contrary, I lay
awake a full hour in the fragrance and on the level carpet of the pine
needles looking up through the dark branches at the waning moon, which
had just risen, and thinking of how suitable were pine-trees for a man
to sleep under.
