It was the duty of Catholics to oppose the revolutionary confiscatory anti-religious methods of the early, modern continental socialists. But the methods and aims of the legal evolutionary socialism of Great Britain do not merit opposition. Socialism in Great Britain means substitution of the public - the municipality or the State-ownership for private ownership.

When I first met John Wheatley, he was in trouble. He had declared himself a Socialist and founded the Catholic Socialist Society. This was too much for his co-religionists and their spiritual leaders. There was little they could do. They decided to do the little. They could not burn the heretic, so they made an effigy of him, which they carried through the streets and burnt amid much pious rejoicing at John Wheatley's front gate. He had been warned of the danger of being in the house, for an Irishman under the influence of religious mania, like one under the influence of alcoholic drink, is reckless. To the consternation of the inquisitors, John Wheatley stood with his wife at his open door, smiling at the fanaticism as if it had been fun. The following Sunday morning he appeared at Mass as usual, and the trouble died down.

Now he was a Socialist candidate for the Parish Council, one of the humblest and most useful phases of public service. The rumour ran that the fanatics were going to give him a rough time. Some of us resolved to attend the meeting, ready to hand out fair exchange for anything that was coming. Nothing came. The meeting was orderly and attentive.

I had never heard a speaker state the case for Socialism with such simplicity and power. I recognized in him a true leader of men. We became friendly, and began the habit, which we maintained for years, of walking together in the country on Saturday afternoons.

The house has found a new favourite in Mr. Wheatley, the former revolutionary member for Glasgow, now Minister of Health. He has been the one conspicuous success in the new Parliament. A short, squat, middle-aged man, with a chubby face beaming behind large spectacles. He possesses a perfect Parliamentary manner; a pleasant voice, confidence without arrogance, a quick power of repartee, a capacity of convincing statement, and above all a saving grace of humour.

Wheatley's Housing (Financial Provisions) Act was the only major legislative achievement of the 1924 Labour government. Until its subsidy provisions were repealed by the National Government in 1934, a substantial proportion of all rented local authority housing in Britain was built under its terms and sixty years later there were still people in Scotland who spoke of Wheatley houses. The act was a complex one, bringing together trade unions, building firms, and local authorities in a scheme to tackle a housing shortage which was guaranteed central government funding provided that building standards set by the act were adhered to. The act did little for actual slum clearance but it hugely enhanced Wheatley's reputation despite the loss of a companion measure, the Building Materials Bill, which would have given central government a wide range of controls over supplies of building materials to local councils operating the Housing Act.

There still are people, I suppose, who question the need for a political working-class organisation, people who believe that alliances of employers and employed will solve industrial and political problems. I do not agree with those people.

Conditions bring forth men and movements, and no Labour Movement would have been possible unless conditions had been favourable to its birth. It is equally true that the conditions which called it into being have not changed. The collar on the neck has been eased in places where it hurt most, but the collar remains.

It is a fair assumption that had the Liberal or Conservative Party been willing and able to give the working-class economic security that security would have been given long ago. Each has had lengthy periods of power with majorities capable of carrying any measures it chose, and each has lamentably failed even to bring a decent standard of life to the major portion of the population.

There always will, I suppose, be ground for argument as to whether the Labour Party's programme can bring security to the working-class, but there is no room for argument as to its willingness. Our economic theories may fail, but any party or movement created for no other purpose than the abolition of social injustice is at least entitled to be given credit for the honesty of its intentions. No student of history will dispute the fact that this, and this only, was the reason which animated the minds of those men who first conceived the idea of a great independent political Labour Party. A great deal of the early struggle was doubtless merely undirected revolt against social injustice, and without any preconceived idea as to causes and still less to remedies. History shows one long series of revolts, each apparently quite unconnected with the other, but each, nevertheless, an expression of the same demand for human freedom.

During the time we had been in Opposition (1925-29), Wheatley had dissociated himself from his former Cabinet colleagues, and had gone to the back benches into the company of the Clydesiders. In the country, too, he had made speeches attacking his late colleagues. MacDonald was strongly opposed to offering him a post in the new Government. Wheatley had deserted us and insulted us, and MacDonald thought the country would be shocked if he were included in the Cabinet, and it would be taken as evidence of rebel influence. Arthur Henderson took the view, and I was inclined to agree with him, that it might be better to have him inside than outside. I took this view from my experience of him as a Minister. he was a man who, when free from the responsibility of office, would make extreme speeches; but as a Minister I had always found him to be reasonable and practical.

The next time he came into more than usual prominence in the House was on the night of the Scottish Estimates. On that occasion he and three Scottish colleagues were suspended for deliberately flouting the authority of the chair. Mr. Maxton had called Sir Frederick Banbury a murderer, and in spite of requests from Mr. Ramsay MacDonald, his own leader, he refused to withdraw. Whilst the commotion was at its height it appeared that Mr. Maxton was wavering, when Mr. Wheatley jumped to his feet, repeated the charge, and told Mr. MacDonald quite plainly that he need not ask him to withdraw. Both Mr. Maxton and Mr. Wheatley were promptly suspended, and the Press let itself loose on the wild men from the Clyde. In point of fact, the men from the Clyde were not so wild. The protest was made deliberately against the fact that that year, as always, the House had treated the Scottish Estimates as of no importance. The four M.P.s went off to Scotland, where they were received as national heroes and martyrs. Huge demonstrations were held in every town in Scotland, and the question of Home Rule for Scotland became for about the first time a live issue in Scottish politics. I can remember the attitude of the older men in the Labour Party during this episode. All of them were quite convinced that these scenes in the House and the revolutionary talk in the country would kill the party, and I can remember one of them who is now in the Cabinet telling me that it would cost the party fifty seats. Curiously enough, Mr. Wheatley's firm belief was that the party would gain seats as a result. His argument was that for the first time in British politics the working-classes could really feel that here was a party that was not prepared to sit quietly in their places and allow the bad old conditions to prevail without some protest. The General Election came in less than six months. and it was then found that, in spite of the scenes, or perhaps because of them, Labour had actually won over fifty seats. Perhaps it is more than a coincidence that the Conservative member, Captain Elliot, who was in charge of the Scottish Estimates, was defeated in what had hitherto been considered a safe Conservative seat. Be that as it may, Mr. Wheatley's actions in the House had stamped him as a man who could not be ignored in politics, and because of that, as I said at the outset, those of us who knew him best were not surprised when he was chosen as a member of the first Labour Cabinet.

James Maxton and I talked of the necessity for carrying on the work that Wheatley had left to our hand but in our hearts we knew that it could not be done. We were the men with whom Wheatley might have built civilization in Britain, but without him - we could only hope to fight on, whatever the consequence might be.

On Maxton's frail shoulders had fallen the sole burden of leadership, and I saw much of him at that time. I have never associated with a kinder, more impeccably honesty, loyal and courageous man; but he is without ambition, has no patience for detail, and a queer philosophy adapted to his inherent laziness which makes him an impossible leader for any movement. His politics are socialist, but his habits of thought and temperament are completely anarchist.