THERE HAS RECENTLY been a fine revival of the good
old hell-fire Socialism of yesteryear. My favourite specimens are Forward with its photo- graph of the Prime Minister 'gallivanting in topper and tails on Epsom downs,' as it puts it, 'more interested in horses than hell-bombs,' and Mr. Tom Driberg's generous admission in Reynolds News that 'every Socialist knows some Tories who are not personally inhumane.' Mr. Driberg's many years of lucrative employment with a Conservative newspaper doubtless brought him into contact with many Tories; whether you believe them to have been the personally in- humane kind or the honourable minority depends on whether you think Mr. Driberg has been notably brutalised by association with them. As to Mr. Macmillan, I dare say that the average working-class voter would sympathise with his 'gallivanting' to see the Derby far more than the priggish journalists ot Forward, who have never been known to indulge in an evening's cribbage, let alone visited a football match. How silly all this kind of thing is
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