‘Why,’ I replied, ‘what has happened to the English is one of the most ironical things in the world. For during many years they have sacrificed their old and pleasant life to attain mechanical efficiency, and they have made the northern half of their little island dreary with factories and blotted out its sky with smoke. They said: Here are our riches, and in the name of wealth we must desecrate the land. But do you, O Lysis and Phaelon, observe the justice of what is happening to them. Their factories have grown a burden to them, and a problem and source of quarrels and poverty. And their real wealth lies in what is still preserved of the old England.’ ‘Why, Socrates?’ ‘Because the Americans will pay to see it and will not pay to see the factories.’ ‘Is their position so desperate?’ ‘No’ I said, ‘if we are seeking the truth we must declare that it is not so desperate as the Americans imagine for the Americans forget that the English are in partnership with the Scotch.’ ‘Who are the Scotch?’ asked Phaelon. ‘I should call them the guardian class in Britain,’ said Agathon. ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘they watch over the English and they have a great empire all over the world.’ ‘And the English are allowed to share in this Empire?’ ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘by the terms of the partnership which was by far the most important event in the economic history of the English. For this Empire is very large and rich.’ ‘And did the Scotchmen win it by the sword?’ was Phaelon’s next question. ‘Indeed no,’ I replied. ‘In fact Englishmen and Irishmen――you have heard of them?’ (Both Lysis and Phaelon nodded vigorously and Lysis said ‘Of course,’ in such a tone that I felt ashamed of the foolish query.) ‘Englishmen and Irishmen,’ I went on, ‘were rather more prominent in those first stages. But it was the Scotchmen who made the Empire pay.’ ‘And after all,’ said Agathon, ‘that was the real point in having an Empire.’ ‘And they built up a great trade with everybody and prospered greatly,’ I said, ‘the Scotch and the northern English particularly. And these two together, when they go abroad to gain money, call themselves the British. But they make the mistake of thinking their activities will go on being profitable for ever. They think that because all the world, even Greece, has bought from them in the century past, the relationship will continue. But I believe otherwise, and that this foreign trade will be their destruction, and that they are selling the swords which will pierce their own bodies.’ ‘How, Socrates?’