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论中国共产党历史
习近平

中央文献出版社
 1

出版说明
历史是最好的教科书。党的十八大以来，习近平同志
围绕中国共产党历史发表了一系列重要论述，系统回顾
我们党团结带领中国人民不懈奋斗的光辉历程，深入总
结党在各个历史时期创造的理论成果、积累的宝贵经
验、铸就的伟大精神，深刻阐明党为中华民族作出的伟
大贡献、为解决人类问题提供的中国智慧中国方案，展
望党和人民事业发展的光明前景。这些重要论述立意高
远，内涵丰富，思想深刻，对于我们学好党的历史，增强
“四个意识”、坚定“四个自信”、做到“两个维护”，决
胜全面建成小康社会、开启全面建设社会主义现代化国家
新征程、实现中华民族伟大复兴的中国梦，具有十分重要
的指导意义。为了帮助广大干部群众深入学习习近平同志
关于中国共产党历史的重要论述，我们将习近平同志的
相关论述汇编为《论中国共产党历史》一书。
本书收入党的十八大以来习近平同志关于中国共产党
历史的文稿共四十篇，其中部分文稿是首次公开发表。

中共中央党史和文献研究院
二。二一年一月
 1

目 录
实现中华民族伟大复兴是中华民族
近代以来最伟大的梦想 (1)
（二0一二年十一月二十九日）
正确认识改革开放前和改革开放后
两个历史时期 (3)
（二。一三年一月五日）
知史爱党，知史爱国 (7)
（二。一三年三月 二。二。年八月）
学习党史、国史是坚持和发展中国特色
社会主义的必修课 (14)
（二。一三年六月二十五日）
中国革命历史是最好的营养剂 (23)
（二。一三年七月十一日、十二日）
讲好中国共产党的故事 (28)
（二。一三年九月 二。二。年九月）
2 论中国共产党历史
革命精神是党和国家的宝贵财富 (35)
（二。一三年十一月 二0二0年十一月）
革命老区是党和人民军队的根 (43)
（二0一三年十一月 二。二。年八月）
在纪念毛泽东同志诞辰一百二十周年
座谈会上的讲话 (49)
（二。一三年十二月二十六日）
崇尚英雄、学习英雄、关爱英雄“… (68)
（二0—四年五月 二0二。年十月）
在纪念邓小平同志诞辰一百一十周年
座谈会上的讲话 (73)
（二。一四年八月二十日）
在中国实行人民代表大会制度，是中国
人民在人类政治制度史上的伟大创造 (92)
（―0 一四年九月五日）
古田会议奠基的我军政治工作对我军
生存发展起到了决定性作用 (96)
（―0 一四年十月三十一日）
继续从延安精神中汲取力量 (98)
（二。一五年二月十五日）
总结党的历史经验，牢固树立
“四个意识”… (102)
（二。一五年六月 ―0—八年一月）
 目 录 3

把红色基因传承好，把红色江山
世世代代传下去 (107)
（二。一六年一月 二。二。年六月）
让井冈山精神放射出新的时代光芒…
… (112)
（二。一六年二月三日）
在庆祝中国共产党成立九十五周年大会上
的讲话 (116)
（二。一六年七月一日）
在纪念红军长征胜利八十周年大会上
的讲话 (139)
（二0—六年十月二十一日）
学好党史、新中国史、改革开放史、
社会主义发展史 (158)
（二。一六年十二月 二0二。年十一月）
在庆祝中国人民解放军建军九十周年
大会上的讲话 (164)
（二。一七年八月一日）
新时代中国共产党的历史使命… … (179)
（二0一七年十月十八日）
走得再远都不能忘记来时的路… … (184)
（二。一七年十月三十一日）
深刻总结经济特区建设的宝贵经验 (187)
（二。一八年四月十三日）
4 论中国共产党历史
在纪念马克思诞辰二百周年大会上的讲话 (193)
（二。一八年五月四日）
在庆祝改革开放四十周年大会上的讲话， (213)
（二0一八年十二月十八日）
在纪念五四运动一百周年大会上的讲话， (239)
（二0—九年四月三十日）
中国共产党的伟大革命精神跨越时空、
永不过时 (253)
（二。一九年五月二十二日）
党在陕甘宁地区的革命活动，建立了
光照千秋的历史功绩 (256)
（二。一九年八月二十二日）
以“赶考”的清醒和坚定答好新时代
的答卷 (258)
（二。一九年九月十二日）
了解历史才能看得远，永葆初心
才能走得远 (261)
（二。一九年九月十八日）
人民政协在建立新中国和社会主义革命、
建设、改革各个历史时期发挥了十分
重要的作用 (263)
（二。一九年九月二十日）
 目 录 5

在庆祝中华人民共和国成立七十周年
大会上的讲话 (268)
（二0—九年十月一日）
始终做到初心如磐、使命在肩 (271)
（二。二0年一月八日）
在纪念中国人民抗日战争暨世界反法西斯
战争胜利七十五周年座谈会上的讲话・ (274)
（二。二0年九月三日）
牢记初心使命，走好新时代长征路…
… (285)
（二。二。年九月十八日）
兴办经济特区是党和国家为推进改革开放
和社会主义现代化建设进行的伟大创举 (287)
（二。二0年十月十四日）
在纪念中国人民志愿军抗美援朝出国作战
七十周年大会上的讲话 (292)
（二。二。年十月二十三日）
中华民族伟大复兴历史进程的大跨越…' (302)
（二。二0年十月二十九日）
在浦东开发开放三十周年庆祝大会上
的讲话 (305)
（二。二。年十一月十二日）
 1

实现中华民族伟大复兴是
中华民族近代以来最伟大的梦想’
（二。一二年十一月二十九日）

《复兴之路》这个展览，回顾了中华民族的昨天，
展示了中华民族的今天，宣示了中华民族的明天，给人
以深刻教育和启示。中华民族的昨天，可以说是“雄关
漫道真如铁”。近代以后，中华民族遭受的苦难之重、
付出的牺牲之大，在世界历史上都是罕见的。但是，中
国人民从不屈服，不断奋起抗争，终于掌握了自己的命
运，开始了建设自己国家的伟大进程，充分展示了以爱
国主义为核心的伟大民族精神。中华民族的今天，正可
谓“人间正道是沧桑”。改革开放以来，我们总结历史经
验，不断艰辛探索，终于找到了实现中华民族伟大复兴的
正确道路，取得了举世瞩目的成果。这条道路就是中国特
色社会主义。中华民族的明天，可以说是“长风破浪会
有时”。经过鸦片战争以来一百七十多年的持续奋斗，
中华民族伟大复兴展现出光明的前景。现在，我们比历

这是习近平同志在参观《复兴之路》展览时的讲话。
2 论中国共产党历史
史上任何时期都更接近中华民族伟大复兴的目标，比历
史上任何时期都更有信心、有能力实现这个目标。
回首过去，全党同志必须牢记，落后就要挨打，发
展才能自强。审视现在，全党同志必须牢记，道路决定
命运，找到一条正确的道路多么不容易，我们必须坚定
不移走下去。展望未来，全党同志必须牢记，要把蓝图
变为现实，还有很长的路要走，需要我们付出长期艰苦
的努力。
每个人都有理想和追求，都有自己的梦想。现在，
大家都在讨论中国梦，我以为，实现中华民族伟大复
兴，就是中华民族近代以来最伟大的梦想。这个梦想，
凝聚了几代中国人的夙愿，体现了中华民族和中国人民
的整体利益，是每一个中华儿女的共同期盼。历史告诉
我们，每个人的前途命运都与国家和民族的前途命运紧
密相连。国家好、民族好，大家才会好。实现中华民族
伟大复兴是一项光荣而艰巨的事业，需要一代又一代中
国人共同为之努力。空谈误国，实干兴邦。我们这一代
共产党人一定要承前启后、继往开来，把我们的党建设
好，团结全体中华儿女把我们国家建设好，把我们民族
发展好，继续朝着中华民族伟大复兴的目标奋勇前进。
我坚信，到中国共产党成立一百年时全面建成小康
社会的目标一定能实现，到新中国成立一百年时建成富
强民主文明和谐的社会主义现代化国家的目标一定能实
现，中华民族伟大复兴的梦想一定能实现。
 3

正确认识改革开放前和
改革开放后两个历史时期
（二。一三年一月五日）

我们党领导人民进行社会主义建设，有改革开放前
和改革开放后两个历史时期，这是两个相互联系又有重
大区别的时期，但本质上都是我们党领导人民进行社会
主义建设的实践探索。中国特色社会主义是在改革开放
历史新时期开创的，但也是在新中国已经建立起社会主
义基本制度并进行了二十多年建设的基础上开创的。正
确认识这个问题，要把握三个方面。一是，如果没有一
九七八年我们党果断决定实行改革开放，并坚定不移推
进改革开放，坚定不移把握改革开放的正确方向，社会
主义中国就不可能有今天这样的大好局面，就可能面临
严重危机，就可能遇到像苏联、东欧国家那样的亡党亡
国危机。同时，如果没有一九四九年建立新中国并进行
社会主义革命和建设，积累了重要的思想、物质、制度

这是习近平同志在新进中央委员会的委员、候补委员学习贯彻
党的十八大精神研讨班上讲话的一部分。
4 论中国共产党历史
条件，积累了正反两方面经验，改革开放也很难顺利推
进。二是，虽然这两个历史时期在进行社会主义建设的
思想指导、方针政策、实际工作上有很大差别，但两者
决不是彼此割裂的，更不是根本对立的。我们党在社会
主义建设实践中提出了许多正确主张，当时没有真正落
实，改革开放后得到了真正贯彻，将来也还是要坚持和
发展的。马克思早就说过：“人们自己创造自己的历史，
但是他们并不是随心所欲地创造，并不是在他们自己选
定的条件下创造，而是在直接碰到的、既定的、从过去
承继下来的条件下创造。”三是，对改革开放前的历史
时期要正确评价，不能用改革开放后的历史时期否定改
革开放前的历史时期，也不能用改革开放前的历史时期
否定改革开放后的历史时期。改革开放前的社会主义实
践探索为改革开放后的社会主义实践探索积累了条件，
改革开放后的社会主义实践探索是对前一个时期的坚
持、改革、发展。对改革开放前的社会主义实践探索，
要坚持实事求是的思想路线，分清主流和支流，坚持真
理，修正错误，发扬经验，吸取教训，在这个基础上把
党和人民事业继续推向前进。
我之所以强调这个问题，是因为这个重大政治问题
处理不好，就会产生严重政治后果。古人说：“灭人之
国，必先去其史。”国内外敌对势力往往就是拿中国革
命史、新中国历史来做文章，竭尽攻击、丑化、污蔑之
能事，根本目的就是要搞乱人心，煽动推翻中国共产党
 正确认识改革开放前和改革开放后两个历史时期 5

的领导和我国社会主义制度。苏联为什么解体？苏共为
什么垮台？ 一个重要原因就是意识形态领域的斗争十分
激烈，全面否定苏联历史、苏共历史，否定列宁，否定
斯大林，搞历史虚无主义，思想搞乱了，各级党组织几
乎没任何作用了，军队都不在党的领导之下了。最后，
苏联共产党偌大一个党就作鸟兽散了，苏联偌大一个社
会主义国家就分崩离析了。这是前车之鉴啊！邓小平同
志指出：“毛泽东思想这个旗帜丢不得。丢掉了这个旗
帜，实际上就否定了我们党的光辉历史。总的来说，我
们党的历史还是光辉的历史。虽然我们党在历史上，包
括建国以后的三十年中，犯过一些大错误，甚至犯过搞
，文化大革命’这样的大错误，但是我们党终究把革命
搞成功了。中国在世界上的地位，是在中华人民共和国
成立以后才大大提高的。只有中华人民共和国的成立，
才使我们这个人口占世界总人口近四分之一的大国，在
世界上站起来，而且站住了。”他还强调：“对毛泽东同
志的评价，对毛泽东思想的阐述，不是仅仅涉及毛泽东
同志个人的问题，这同我们党、我们国家的整个历史是
分不开的。要看到这个全局。” “这不只是个理论问题，
尤其是个政治问题，是国际国内的很大的政治问题。”
这就是一个伟大马克思主义政治家的眼界和胸怀。试想
一下，如果当时全盘否定了毛泽东同志，那我们党还能
站得住吗？我们国家的社会主义制度还能站得住吗？那
就站不住了，站不住就会天下大乱。所以，正确处理改
6 论中国共产党历史
革开放前后的社会主义实践探索的关系，不只是一个历
史问题，更主要的是一个政治问题。建议大家把《关于
建国以来党的若干历史问题的决议》找出来再看看。
 7

知史爱党，知史爱国’
（二。一三年三月 二。二0年八月）

各级领导干部还要认真学习党史、国史，知史爱党，
知史爱国。要了解我们党和国家事业的来龙去脉，汲取
我们党和国家的历史经验，正确了解党和国家历史上的重
大事件和重要人物。这对'正确认识党情、国情十分必要，对
开创未来也十分必要，因为历史是最好的教科书。
（二0—三年三月一日在中央党校建校八十周年庆祝
大会暨二。一三年春季学期开学典礼上的讲话）

要加强党史学习和教育，努力从党走过的风云激荡
的历史中、从党开创和不断推进的伟大事业中、从党全
心全意为人民服务的根本宗旨和长期实践中，深化对党
这是习近平同志二。一三年三月至二。二。年八月期间讲话中
有关知史爱党，知史爱国内容的节录。
8 论中国共产党历史
的信赖，坚定对党的领导的信念。
（二。一四年五月八日在同中央办公厅各单位班子成
员和干部职工代表座谈时的讲话）

吉林有着光荣的革命历史。九一八事变发生后，东
北人民率先举起抗日旗帜，在极端艰苦的条件下浴血奋
战，谱写了爱国主义的英雄壮歌。吉林是这一战场的重
要组成部分，杨靖宇等抗日联军英烈就牺牲在这里。在
解放战争战略决战和抗美援朝战争中，吉林人民为胜利
作出了巨大贡献。这个革命历史是弘扬社会主义核心价
值观、开展革命传统教育和爱国主义教育的生动教材，
也是党的建设的宝贵资源。今年是中国人民抗日战争胜
利七十周年，要把抗联的历史发掘好、研究好、宣传
好，组织好相关纪念活动，为加强党的建设和推进改革
发展稳定凝聚正能量。
（二。一五年七月十八日在吉林考察工作结束时的讲话）

四
各级党校要把党性教育作为教学的主要内容，深入
开展理想信念教育、党的宗旨教育，深入开展党史国史
教育、革命传统教育，深入开展道德品行教育、法治思
 知史爱党，知史爱国 9

维教育、反腐倡廉教育，把党章和党规党纪学习教育作
为党性教育的重要内容。
（二。一五年十二月十一日在全国党校工作会议上的
讲话）

我们要加强对历史的学习，特别是对中国古代史、
中国近现代史、中国共产党党史的学习，历史是一面镜
子，从历史中得到启迪、得到定力。
（二。一五年十二月二十八日、二十九日在中共十八届
中央政治局“三严三实”专题民主生活会上的讲话）

六
宁夏是一片有着光荣革命传统的红色土地。一九二
六年，宁夏就建立了我们党的组织。红军长征和西征都
曾转战宁夏，之后宁夏人民又为陕甘宁革命根据地、陕
甘宁边区建设，为抗日战争、为中国革命胜利作出了重
要贡献。这次我们去了将台堡，现场感受了红军三大主
力会师的历史场景，再一次受到深刻教育。我们要铭记
革命历史、传承革命传统，并用以教育广大干部群众,
教育一代又一代青少年。
（二。一六年七月二十日在宁夏考察工作结束时的讲话）
I

10 论中国共产党历史

七
要了解中国，就要了解中国的历史、文化、人文思
想和发展阶段，特别是要了解当代中国的马克思主义。
北京大学是中国最早传播和研究马克思主义的地方，为
马克思主义在中国的传播和中国共产党的成立作出了重
要贡献。今年是马克思诞辰二百周年，也是《共产党宣
言》诞生一百七十周年。我们对马克思和《共产党宣
言》的最好纪念，就是把党的十九大精神和新时代中国
特色社会主义思想这一当代中国马克思主义研究好、宣
传好、贯彻好。
（二。一八年五月二日在北京大学考察时的讲话）

八
要在学生中加强中国历史特别是中国近现代史、中
国革命史、中国共产党史、中华人民共和国史、中国改
革开放史等的教育，坚持不懈培育和弘扬社会主义核心
价值观。只有社会主义才能救中国，只有坚持和发展中
国特色社会主义才能实现中华民族伟大复兴。要给学生
讲清楚这一被实践证明了的历史逻辑和现实逻辑，增强
学生的中国特色社会主义道路自信、理论自信、制度自
信、文化自信，不被任何干扰所惑，立志肩负起民族复
 知史爱党，知史爱国 11

兴的时代重任。
（二。一八年九月十日在全国教育大会上的讲话）

九
要通过展览，教育引导广大干部群众更加深刻地认
识到中国共产党、中国人民和中国特色社会主义的伟大
力量，更加深刻地认识到我们党的理论是正确的、党中
央确定的改革开放路线方针是正确的、改革开放的一系
列战略部署是正确的，更加深刻地认识到改革开放和社
会主义现代化建设的光明前景，统一思想、凝聚共识、
鼓舞斗志、团结奋斗，坚定跟党走中国特色社会主义道
路、改革开放道路的信心和决心。
（二。一八年十一月十三日在参观“伟大的变革—
—
庆祝改革开放四十周年大型展览”时的讲话）

十
历史是最好的老师。思政课教师的历史视野中，要
有五千多年中华文明史，要有五百多年世界社会主义
史，要有中国人民近代以来一百七十多年斗争史，要有
中国共产党近一百年的奋斗史，要有中华人民共和国七
十年的发展史，要有改革开放四十多年的实践史，要有
新时代中国特色社会主义取得的历史性成就、发生的历
12 论中国共产党历史
史性变革，通过生动、深入、具体的纵横比较，把一些
道理讲明白、讲清楚。
（二。一九年三月十八日在学校思想政治理论课教师
座谈会上的讲话）

+-
要围绕中国共产党为什么“能”、马克思主义为什
“么匕，，

么“行”、中国特色社会主义为什么“好”等重大问题,
广泛开展宣传教育，加强思想舆论引导，坚定广大干部
群众对中国特色社会主义的道路自信、理论自信、制度
自信、文化自信，进一步激发全体人民爱党、爱国、爱
社会主义的巨大热情。
（二。一九年四月十五日至十七日在重庆考察并主持召
开解决“两不愁三保障”突出问题座谈会时的讲话）

十二

无论我们走得多远，都不能忘记来时的路。前几
天，我去了江西于都，参观中央红军长征出发地，目的
是缅怀当年党中央和中央红军在苏区浴血奋战的峥峡岁
月，牢记红色政权是从哪里来的、新中国是怎么建立起
来的，不忘历史、不忘初心。
（二。一九年五月三十一日在“不忘初心、牢记使命”
主题教育工作会议上的讲话）
 知史爱党，知史爱国 13

十三
我们一定要牢记革命先辈为中国革命事业付出的鲜
血和生命，牢记新中国来之不易。创业难，守业更难。
广大党员、干部和人民群众要很好学习了解党史、新中
国史，守住党领导人民创立的社会主义伟大事业，世世
代代传承下去。
（二。二。年七月二十二日至二十四日在吉林考察时
的讲话）

十四
淮海战役的胜利是靠老百姓用小车推出来的，渡江
战役的胜利是靠老百姓用小船划出来的。任何时候我们
都要不忘初心、牢记使命，都不能忘了人民这个根，永
远做忠诚的人民服务员。要广泛开展爱国主义教育，让
人们深入理解为什么历史和人民选择了中国共产党，为
什么必须坚持走中国特色社会主义道路、实现中华民族
伟大复兴。
（二。二。年八，月十八日至二十一日在安徽考察时的
讲话）
14

学习党史、国史是坚持和发展
中国特色社会主义的必修课’
（二。一三年六月二十五日）

再过几天，就是中国共产党成立九十二周年了。这
次中央政治局集体学习以中国特色社会主义理论和实践
为题，主要目的是通过回顾我们党走过的光辉历程，特
别是通过重温我们党领导人民在我国建设社会主义的历
史进程，提高我们对坚持和发展中国特色社会主义的认
识，增强做好改革发展稳定各项工作的自觉性。这对贯
彻落实党的十八大精神很有意义，也是对我们党成立九
十二周年的最好庆祝。
事先，中央政治局的同志进行了自学，特别是学习
了《中国共产党历史》第二卷、《中国共产党简史》，做
了认真思考和准备。这次就不请专家学者来讲了，我们
中央政治局的同志自己谈体会。刚才，大家进行了讨论
交流，讲得都很好，对历史经验进行了深刻总结，对现

这是习近平同志主持中共十八届中央政治局第七次集体学习时
的讲话。
 学习党史、国史是坚持和发展中国特色社会主义的必修课 15
实问题进行了深入分析，对坚持和发展中国特色社会主
义进行了深入思考，体现了理论联系实际的学风，听了
以后很受启发。下面，我也谈点学习体会，同大家交流。
我们党已经走过了九十二年的光辉历程，我们的人
民共和国已经走过了六十四年的光辉历程。九十二年
来，党团结带领全国各族人民进行了持续不断的伟大奋
斗，创造了一个又一个人间奇迹，集中体现为完成和推
进了三件大事：一是完成了新民主主义革命，实现了民
族独立、人民解放；二是完成了社会主义革命、进行了
社会主义建设，确立了社会主义基本制度；三是进行了
改革开放新的伟大革命，开创、坚持、发展了中国特色
社会主义。这三件大事，从根本上改变了中国人民和中
华民族的前途命运，今日之中国已经发展成为世界第二
大经济体，经济实力、科技实力、综合国力显著增强，
国际地位和国际竞争力空前提高，全党全国正在向全面
建成小康社会、实现中华民族伟大复兴的中国梦目标奋
力前进。
我们党领导人民进行的九十二年奋斗，不仅取得了
举世瞩目的伟大实践成果，而且积累了治党治国的丰富
经验。历史是最好的教科书。领导干部通过学习党史、
国史，认识和把握革命、建设、改革各个历史时期创造
的丰富经验，可以获得思想的启迪、知识的武装，提高
工作本领，站在历史的深厚基础上更加坚定地走向未来。
学习党史、国史，是我们坚持和发展中国特色社会
16 论中国共产党历史
主义、把党和国家各项事业继续推向前进的必修课。这
门功课不仅必修，而且必须修好。我们要继续加强对党
史、国史的学习，在对历史的深入思考中做好现实工
作、更好走向未来。
面对党和国家事业发展新要求，重温党和人民共同
走过的光辉历程，在新的历史条件下坚持和发展中国特
色社会主义，把握以下几点尤为紧要。
第一，必须坚持走自己的路。无论搞革命、搞建
设、搞改革，道路问题都是最根本的问题。邓小平同志
指出：“把马克思主义的普遍真理同我国的具体实际结
合起来，走自己的道路，建设有中国特色的社会主义，
这就是我们总结长期历史经验得出的基本结论。”这个
基本结论是一代又一代中国共产党人解放思想、实事求
是、与时俱进，历经艰难曲折，付出巨大牺牲，在人民
创造历史的伟大实践中得出来的。新民主主义革命时期
是这样走过来的，社会主义革命和建设时期是这样走过
来的，改革开放历史新时期也是这样走过来的。
在新民主主义革命时期，我们党一开始想走苏联那
样的中心城市暴动的道路，实践证明这条道路走不通，
通过总结经验教训、深化对国情的认识，以毛泽东同志
为主要代表的中国共产党人找到了以农村包围城市、武
装夺取政权的正确道路，领导中国人民推翻三座大山、
建立起人民当家作主的新中国。
社会主义革命和建设时期，我们党在寻找正确道路
 学习党史、国史是坚持和发展中国特色社会主义的必修课 17
中也历经艰辛。一开始，因为没有搞过社会主义，这是
一个全新的事业，只能照搬苏联模式，一边倒，走的是
高度集中的计划经济的路子。后来，我们党认识到这种
做法有问题，进行了积极探索和思考，取得了一些成
果，毛泽东同志的重要著作《论十大关系》等就反映了
这个探索的成果。后来，由于对国际国内形势的认识逐
步发生偏差，指导思想也发生了偏差，最后发生了 “文
化大革命”这样的全局性的长时间的严重错误，可以说
没有找到一条完全符合中国实际的建设社会主义的道
路。当然，社会主义革命和建设时期的道路探索，为我
们继续探索新路打下了重要基础、提供了重要启示。
改革开放以来，我们坚持党的思想路线和基本路
线，在探索和实践中找到了、坚持了、拓展了中国特色
社会主义道路，并且在这条总道路下形成了经济建设、
政治建设、文化建设、社会建设、生态文明建设和党的
建设等领域中的一些具体道路。三十多年来，我们能够
创造出人类历史上前无古人的发展成就，走出了正确道
路是根本原因。现在，最关键的是坚定不移走这条道
路、与时俱进拓展这条道路，推动中国特色社会主义道
路越走越宽广。
第二，必须顺应世界大势。“世界潮流，浩浩荡荡，
顺之则昌，逆之则亡。”正确处理中国和世界的关系，
是事关党的事业成败的重大问题。中国历史上曾经是世
界上的经济强国，后来在世界工业革命如火如荼、人类
18 论中国共产党历史
社会发生深刻变革的时期，中国的封建统治者却没有睁
开眼睛看世界，夜郎自大，丧失了与世界同进步的历史
机遇，变成落伍者，落到了被动挨打的境地。尤其是鸦
片战争之后，中华民族更是陷入积贫积弱、任人宰割的
悲惨状况。这段历史悲剧，我们都有刻骨铭心的记忆。
中国共产党的诞生，社会主义中国的成立，改革开
放的实行，都是顺应世界发展大势的结果。中国共产党
是怎样诞生的？是通过马克思列宁主义同中国工人运动
相结合而产生的。十月革命一声炮响，给我们送来了马
克思列宁主义，这就是当时的世界大势。我们党从这个
世界大势中产生出来，走在了时代前列，成为时代的弄
潮儿。
中华人民共和国的成立，也是顺应时代大潮的产
物。放眼那个时候的世界，社会主义苏联发展壮大，东
欧成为社会主义的天下，亚非拉被压迫民族的解放运动
风起云涌，确实有“东风压倒西风”的气象啊！新中国
就是沐浴着这个东风诞生的，也是借助这个东风站住了
脚的。后来，在复杂国际形势影响下，我们对世界大势
的判断有些偏离，认为要打世界大战，国内“以阶级斗
争为纲”，错失了重要发展机遇。这在我们党关于建国
以来若干历史问题的决议中有深刻总结。
改革开放是怎么搞起来的？很关键的一条是我们党
正确判断世界大势。邓小平同志说：“根据对世界大势
的这些分析，以及对我们周围环境的分析，我们改变了
 学习党史、国史是坚持和发展中国特色社会主义的必修课 19
原来认为战争的危险很迫近的看法。”由于对世界大势
作出了准确判断，我们党确立了和平与发展是时代主题
的认识，才有了党和国家工作中心的转移，才有了改革
开放历史新时期的开启。
这些都是大的因势利导、顺势而为。小一点的例子
还很多。比如，我们顺应经济全球化发展大势，积极争
取加入世贸组织，打开了对外开放的新天地；我们顺应
发展中国家加速发展、世界力量对比有利于共同发展的
大势，积极推动全球经济治理机制变革，提高了包括我
国在内的新兴市场国家和发展中大国在国际经济治理
机构中的代表性和发言权。这就叫“法与时变，礼与
俗化”。
在当今世界深刻复杂变化、中国同世界的联系和互
动空前紧密的情况下，我们更要密切关注国际形势发展
变化，把握世界大势，统筹好国内国际两个大局，在时
代前进潮流中把握主动、赢得发展。
第三，必须代表最广大人民根本利益。九十二年
来，我们党之所以得到人民拥护和支持，从根本上说，
就是因为能始终代表中国最广大人民根本利益，就是坚
持群众是真正的英雄，尊重人民首创精神，最广泛动员
和组织人民投身到党领导的伟大事业中来。
我们党领导人民打土豪、分田地，是为人民根本利
益而斗争；领导人民开展抗日战争、赶走日本侵略者，
是为人民根本利益而斗争；领导人民推翻蒋家王朝、建
20 论中国共产党历史
立新中国，是为人民根本利益而斗争；领导人民开展社
会主义革命和建设、改变一穷二白的国家面貌，是为人
民根本利益而斗争；领导人民实行改革开放、推进社会
主义现代化，同样是为了人民根本利益而斗争。
毛泽东同志要求全党同志必须全心全意为人民服
务，邓小平同志要求我们做工作必须考虑群众拥护不拥
护、赞成不赞成、高兴不高兴、答应不答应，江泽民同
志提出我们党要始终代表中国最广大人民根本利益，胡
锦涛同志提出必须把实现好、维护好、发展好最广大人
民根本利益作为一切工作的出发点和落脚点，我们这一
届党中央明确提出“人民对美好生活的向往，就是我们
的奋斗目标”，是一以贯之的。在前进征途上，只要我
们党始终坚持人民利益高于一切，紧紧依靠人民，就能
永远立于不败之地。
第四，必须加强党的自身建设。加强党的建设，是
党自我净化、自我完善、自我革新、自我提高的客观要
求。毛泽东同志在总结中国革命胜利的经验时，把党的
建设作为三大法宝之一提了出来。在革命、建设、改革
各个历史时期，我们党都高度重视加强自身建设。加强
党的建设，既有日常的经常性工作，也有集中行动。延
安整风就是集中行动，使全党端正了思想路线和政治路
线，破除了主观主义、宗派主义、党八股，明确了今后
努力方向，对夺取抗日战争和解放战争胜利产生了巨大
推动作用。在全国执政后，我们党也一直高度重视加强
 学习党史、国史是坚持和发展中国特色社会主义的必修课 21
党的建设。远的不说，改革开放以来，我们就先后开展
了整党、“三讲”、“三个代表”重要思想、党的先进性、
科学发展观等学习教育实践活动，对保持党的先进性和
纯洁性、提高党的领导能力和执政能力发挥了十分重要
的作用。
新形势下加强党的建设，必须把党的十八大提出的
关于党的建设的目标任务落到实处，把党要管党、从严
治党落到实处。如果管党不力、治党不严，纪律松弛、
组织涣散，正气上不来、邪气压不住，人民群众反映强
烈的党内突出问题得不到及时有效解决，那么我们党迟
早会出大问题。邓小平同志说：“中国要出问题，还是出
在共产党内部。”我们要坚持以改革创新精神推进党的
建设，更好经受住执政考验、改革开放考验、市场经济
考验、外部环境考验，更好战胜精神懈怠危险、能力不
足危险、脱离群众危险、消极腐败危险，使我们党更好
担负起团结带领全国各族人民全面建成小康社会、实现
中华民族伟大复兴的重任。
第五，必须坚定中国特色社会主义自信。中国特色
社会主义道路、中国特色社会主义理论体系、中国特色
社会主义制度，是经过全党全国各族人民长期奋斗取得
的，也是经过长期实践检验的科学的东西。所以，我们
说的道路自信、理论自信、制度自信，来源于实践、来
源于人民、来源于真理。
“自信人生二百年，会当水击三千里。”我们一定要
22 论中国共产党历史
认识到，中国特色社会主义这条道路来之不易，它是在
改革开放三十多年的伟大实践中走出来的，是在中华人
民共和国成立六十多年的持续探索中走出来的，是在对
近代以来一百七十多年中华民族发展历程的深刻总结中
走出来的，是在对中华民族五千多年悠久文明的传承中
走出来的，具有深厚的历史渊源和广泛的现实基础。中
国特色社会主义已经取得巨大成就，但继续向前推进仍
然是长期而艰巨的历史任务。
新形势下，我们要在深入把握中国特色社会主义的
科学性和真理性的基础上增强自信，在领导人民推进改
革开放和社会主义现代化建设的进程中继续开拓，按照
党的十八大提出的坚持和发展中国特色社会主义“八个
必须”的基本要求，不断开创中国特色社会主义事业新
局面，不断交出坚持和发展中国特色社会主义的合格
答卷。
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 Let it be added that Professor de Bohun had acquired, from so much concentrated
study upon dodekahedral crystals—with fatiguing excursions among the octohedrals—
a pleasing habit of repeating a word, never less than three times, and sometimes six or
eight.
In dress the old gentleman was careless, and, though perpetually washing, never
apparently clean. However, he did shave—save for the whiskers which were the badge
of his attainments in the learned world.
There was expected a third man, as young as, or younger than, Lord Galton, and of
a very different and meaner kind, a certain Hamish McTaggart, who had become
suddenly famous within the narrow circle of the people in the know, because the Prime
Minister, upon reading an article of his upon Protection had said—in the full hearing of
the very narrow circle—"This is the only man on Protection whom I really understand."
The article had appeared by the order of McTaggart's master in The Howl, whence it
may be rightly assumed that McTaggart knew no more of economics than would a
warthog of Botticelli. Hence the lucid style which the Prime Minister had saluted with
such discovering joy.
His argument had been very simple. If you prevent things coming in to the sacred
Island, Albion, the Albionese will have to make these things for themselves, and that
means more employment, doesn't it? The truth had struck the Prime Minister with far
more effect thus set down in clean print, than when he had heard it, as he had heard it
a thousand times, from the proprietor of The Howl, whom he had himself so rightly
ennobled.
Therefore was Hamish McTaggart now glowing with a vivid, though, alas! restricted
fame.
He himself was getting heartily tired of it. It had halved his income—that is, it had
brought it down below five hundred pounds a year. No one would print him except upon
the subject of Protection, and he had to write in the way that was really understood.
And he was allowed to write only in those papers peculiar to the little inner circle with
the little inner circulation corresponding—and there's no money in that! When he
wanted to write about tigers, and get his expenses paid free to the East and a lump
sum—a job he would have got for the asking two years before, when he wrote by the
thousand words, to order, just after leaving the University—he was asked what on earth
he knew about it? Tigers! And was bundled back to Protection.
Therefore was his future black; but in the little circle he was a sort of lion. Victoria
Mosel was always talking of him; Marjorie was eager to see him once and then to
discard his company for ever; Lady Bolter, full of the intellectual Victorian time, wanted
to be able to say that she had been in the same room with a man of whom the Prime
Minister himself had said that he was the only man whose writing he really understood.
The Home Secretary had met him once or twice in other people's houses; Marjorie
herself and her aunt were the only two for whom he was still quite a stranger.
"What train is he coming by?" said Tommy Galton, sunk into a deep chair.
The Home Secretary looked at his watch, then at the clock, noted they did not
correspond, frowned, and said he'd be here any time.
 Victoria Mosel lays odds on Mr.
McTaggart's
saying "Dee-Boe-Hunn."

"I'll give you evens," said Victoria Mosel, "that he calls you Dee Boe Hunn."
 "Done!" said Tommy Galton, putting up a finger.
"Bradburys?" said Vic, sucking a pencil. "Gimme a bit o' paper."
Tommy Galton wrote on his cuff. "That'll do," he said.
"I often wish," bleated Aunt Amelia, "that you young people could have met John
Bright. I was only in the schoolroom, of course, but my dear father had no scruples in
——"
She was not allowed to go on.
"We can't all sit here kicking our heels till he's kind enough to parade," said
Marjorie, with girlish simplicity.
"No one wants you to," said Vic, delicately tearing off the last cigarette like a plaster,
and sticking in another one. "I'm clamped down. Me for Hamish!"
The Professor suddenly gave tongue. His exceedingly pale old eyes were wide
open, and his foolish mouth almost as wide.
"Oh, I think it'll be exceedingly interesting—exceedingly interesting," he quavered.
"Exceedingly interesting to meet one of the new generation of ... shall we say, ah!
journalists? Yes, journalists.... Journalists."
"Yes, Bill," replied young Galton. "We'll say journalists." Marjorie yawned and
stretched.
"Well, I'm not going to wait any longer," she said, when the buzz of a motor was
heard on the gravel outside, the approach of middle-class feet, the door solemnly
thrown open as for a dancing bear, and the unfortunate McTaggart appeared, his name
preceding him.
The Home Secretary, who had preserved some of the traditions, unfolded himself
painfully from his chair and stood up, greeting McTaggart with the wan smile of the
public man.
"Good evening, Mr. de Bohun." And behold! he pronounced it Deboon. With the
business-like rapidity that became her so well, Victoria Mosel handed a crushed ball of
three one-pound notes undemonstratively to Tom Galton, who stretched forward to take
it and elaborately crossed out the note on his cuff.
Young McTaggart stood there a moment, not daring to sit down, suffering great
torture. Nor did any of the company relieve it, though Aunt Amelia, to do her justice, did
tell him how glad they all were to see him, much as a spokesman for the Divinities
might welcome any clod.
The poor devil was out of place. He did not know why he had come; he had come
because he was pressed, because he had nothing else to do, because he was lonely,
because he had heard of Paulings and wanted to see it, because he thought such a
visit to such a house might improve his prospects; and now that he was here, he
wished it had never been built.
He was never at his ease with his social superiors. His father and grandfather had
been mere soldiers; his great-grandfather one of Nelson's captains; his father again a
very small laird in Ayrshire—but one had to go back as far as that to get to gentility. He
dressed awkwardly, and he knew it. He never seemed to know quite where to put the
hands and feet at the extremities of his uncouth frame. He also had a rather irritating
trick of never looking anybody in the face. It was nervousness, and came of writing too
much. He was, I regret to say, terrified of women, but especially of Ladies; and he had
already spent the first hours of his exile in wondering why on earth he had allowed
himself to be over-persuaded and had come.

* * * * * * *
So much for the tea table and those that sat round it. The Home Secretary,
damnably full of courtesy but rather silent, sat helpless; Victoria Mosel still stood by the
fire surveying them all—and particularly McTaggart—not unsaturnine for the others, but
with a singular touch of kindness in her slits of eyes for the embarrassed boy. Then she
recovered the firm pressure of her lips, emphasised by the drooping cigarette, and the
others looked on inanely or surlily, according as God had made them.

* * * * * * *
If you think I am going to describe to you in any detail how they passed their time
between tea and dinner, you are mistaken. Some books are written like that, and there
is an art of making them readable. I have it not.
To action, therefore—to the Emerald!

CHAPTER THREE

t was that same Friday night, and about 9.55 by the clock. The men had
just come in from the dining-room. They had been warned that the
housekeeper, Mrs. Bankes (fear nothing—you will never meet her again)
had commandeered the drawing-room. They were not allowed to go back
there, for even now the belated serfs were spreading, under Mrs. Bankes'
eye, large dingy cloths over the chairs and tables against the early sweep of the
morrow.
The Home Secretary had no choice but to shepherd them into the somewhat
forlorn, hardly used West Room. A good fire had been ordered. He trusted humbly in
God that the parrot Attaboy, securely covered in its black cage cloth, could utter no
unseemly Attaboy cry. If it did—well, if it did, Tommy must laugh. After all, it was his
fault if he had pulled a horse.
The men crawled in. McTaggart, being by far the meanest, was compelled—in an
agony—to go first. Next the Professor slid; after him with sullen assurance Tom Galton.
And the great statesman filed in last, as host and chief, and shut the door with all the
discretion of the Front Bench and fourteen years of Westminster.
 Marjorie was standing on the polar-bear skin rug by the fire, near that fierce
grinning head, those ironical teeth, holding the emerald—the brooch—in her open
hand; showing it to Victoria, who peered at it cynically enough. She had already heard
the story of it—for the third time in two weeks, and for the three hundred and fifty-first in
her life—she knew it to be false, and she dreaded to hear again the myth of the
diplomat, the old Bohunian lie. But a good heart thumped behind that bony breast and
Victoria Mosel spared the child.
With this coming in of a new audience, Marjorie summoned them at once, and they
crowded round in obedience to that summons; and once more to the listening earth she
told—in her innocence!—the largesse of Catherine the Great to her ancestor the
diplomat, in whom she firmly believed.
Lord Galton looked at the jewel with a sort of animosity, as much as to say, "Put on
no suspicious airs with me!" McTaggart tittered at it with a nervous smile, as though he
liked it well enough, but was rather frightened of it; the Professor glared it down with an
expert's pose. The three men stood thus, bunched round their young hostess, touching
shoulders, while Marjorie continued her story of the de Bohun mission to the great
Empress, adding sundry other details which in her judgment gave a heightened
historical value to the gem.
Then the gods struck.
What she did, or how she did it, she never remembered. She felt a sharp shoot in
her finger: she should have known it was due to the ill-calculated length of the pin. She
said to herself—but in her heart she did not believe it—that some one had jogged her
elbow. Anyhow, the Emerald of Catherine the Great jerked out suddenly and fell from
her palm, making no noise. It must have fallen upon the bearskin at her feet, where a
standard electric light upon a little table near at hand happened to cast a shadow. She
gave a startled cry, and at once the three men were on their knees—yes, even the old
Professor—groping in the fur.
They were longer at their groping than one might have thought. The object was
small, but not so small as all that. It was flat, heavy, metallic: it could not have rolled. It
must be within a few inches, or a foot at the most, of the place on which its proprietress
had stood.
Unfortunately she moved, and in that movement no one could remember, to half a
foot or so, exactly where it should have lain. While the three men still groped, and the
impatient Marjorie tapped with her foot in the suspense of it, the unfortunate McTaggart
cried excitedly, "I've got it!"
Lord Galton at once jumped up, relieved; the Professor also extended upwards—
less smartly; but when they had risen McTaggart was still on his knees. Then with his
face peering into the fur of the bearskin, he added, "No! It's a splinter of coal,"—and he
threw that fragment into the fire and continued to rummage.
The Professor and Lord Galton looked at each other. They hesitated whether to go
down again; they thought it better to leave it to McTaggart. Poor McTaggart thus
remained in the abject attitude to which he had now been subjected for two minutes or
more, becoming increasingly convinced that something terrible had happened.... He
could not conceive why he should not put his hand upon the thing.... But it was not
there.... At last, flushed, more disordered than ever, he pressed the fingers of his left
hand upon the floor and stood upright. He was a little blown.
"I can't find it!" he said.
"You must find it!" said Marjorie sharply. Then, remembering herself, she looked at
the two who were her equals and cousins and she said:
"One of you must find it! It can't be lost! Nonsense.... Look here, stand back!" She
pushed her poor old aunt, who was peering about in a futile fashion. She enlarged the
circle, and then said again:
"Now then, you must find it! Look here, I'll find it." They went down again reluctantly,
and she herself sank suddenly to her knees and helped the group.
But they looked in vain. They separated the hair of the rug carefully, they lifted it up
pettily, edge by edge, and looked beneath. They pressed upon it with their palms to see
whether they could not find a lump. Then they took the poor beast up and shook him
savagely. But he yielded no emerald. It was gone.
When at last they all rose again—appalled, for the moment silent—Marjorie was as
white as the skin upon which she trod.
"It can't be lost," she said again, bitterly. "I say, it can't be lost."
But lost it was.
"Father," she said angrily. "Do come and look!"
The Home Secretary reluctantly hoisted himself from his chair with a secret groan,
shuffled up to the place, and looked down at the rug in a refined manner.
"Look for it, father! Do look for it! Come, it can't be lost!"
Painfully but obediently the Home Secretary went down on his knees in his turn and
groped about, with far less chance than any other man would have had, of laying his
hand upon the stone. He drew blank, as the others had, and rose with more difficulty,
McTaggart helping him; he shuffled back, and sank again into his chair.
"Well, well, well!" he said. "Well! Well!"
There were tears in Marjorie's eyes—which was a weakness in one so born and in
such a place, but she could hardly keep them back. They were tears as much of anger
as of anything else. Upon Victoria Mosel's face—somewhat apart, and smiling awfully
at the bunch of them—there was a look you could not see through. But upon the face
of each of the three men who had been first down upon their knees—not upon the face
of the Home Secretary—was now drawn an indefinable veil, as of instinctive protection
against a censorious world.
It had dawned upon each of them, in varying degrees of rapidity, that he was
possibly suspect.
It had flashed first upon the lordlet. He lived and breathed in an air of challenge. It
would not have surprised him if he had seen some day on a glaring sky sign flaming up
large over Piccadilly Circus and winking in and out to compel the eye: "Attaboy? Who
pulled Attaboy? Tommy Galton!"
The Professor got the message to his brain about a quarter of a minute later. He
very nearly spoke—but he caught the words in time. The Mullingar Diamond oppressed
him: all the world pointed a finger at him, and the air was full of demoniac whispers:
"Mullingar! Mullingar!"
And as for the miserable McTaggart, he was already such a worm in his own eyes
among these exalted folk that he thought his poverty might alone have him arrested
that very night. It struck him with a pang that, in his innocence, he had remained there
on his knees long after the others had risen. Then a new shaft stabbed him. Ingenuous,
he had dug his own grave! They would interpret that cry, "I've found it!" as the sudden
shock of a real discovery: for him there sounded dully all around, "Ar-r-rest that
mon!"—and he was nearly sick.
So there they stood—three men, none of whom had any idea what had happened,
and each well convinced that he was the suspect who must fight it out sooner or later:
each at the same time firmly believing that one of the other two was the culprit. In
Marjorie's pure mind there spread a growing certitude that they were all of them guilty,
all of them, and that each of them had the emerald in his pocket—yet were there not
three emeralds but one emerald. At least, that was how it felt. But within the soul of the
Home Secretary—if I might so call it—there was a strong sense of botheration and of
wishing the beastly thing had never happened.
Under the keen inward light of Victoria Mosel's intelligence, standing apart, a
fascinating problem was being discussed. She was delighted. It would occupy her for
days. It was just what she liked.
In all that circle of heads, showing in different degrees—Victoria's least of all—the
mood of the mind through some transfiguration of the face, each silent for the moment,
only one head stood frankly stamped with a fierce joy. It was the head of the polar bear.
If he could have spoken he might—or he might not—have told them. It might have
amused him more to keep them in suspense. His great red grinning open mouth and
shining teeth were full of joy. His fierce glass eyes glared upon them mischievously. It
was almost worth while being shot and skinned for such a revenge as this! He knew
where the emerald was.... It was in his right ear.
They had taken him and shaken him with great indignity, but they had foolishly
taken him up by the hind legs. One should never take a polar bear up in that way,
especially when it is a bear who has been a prince in his own country of keen wind, low
shining sun, and little dancing seas against the ice. They had shaken him, but they had
shaken—oh, shame!—upside down, and the more they had shaken him, the more
firmly had they wedged the emerald in his right ear, where it so snugly lay.
He could have told them, and I have hastened to tell you. Then where, you ask me,
does the detective fun come in?
You shall see!

* * * * * * *
 Far in the Eastern Wing where, mured in stone
Arrived at by a passage cold that ran
Along the North o' the House, and barred with iron
As to its windows: also by a door
Which leads from the considerable room
Wherein are great receptions held at Paulings
[An Antrum gaunt, abandoned, having only
Upon its walls the Oils of dead de Bohuns
(Pronounced Deboons) and sundry dusty sofas:
The Room grandiloquently named the Ballroom],
There stand the Servants' Quarters. It is there,
That, ruled by their dread Queen, the Housekeeper,
And by her Coadjutor King, the Butler,
The serfs Boonesque repose. The Cook, the Chauffeur,
The Kitchen Maids, the Footmen, and the Boy:
And Lord! how many others! These that night—
That winter night of doom—held high discourse,
Upon the EMERALD. Samuel had heard
(While bearing in the tray of drinks, himself
Arrayed in livery) how its disappearance
Had flummoxed all the Toffs. "You bet your breeches!"
Said he, to either sex, indifferent
And indiscriminate. "You bet your breeches!
Whoever's pinched it's got to cough it up!
The Boss, he ain't Home Secretary, not
For nothing!" and with that his tongue was still.
Then spake young Gwendoline, the Tweeny Maid,
"I pity Him or 'Er as 'as it!" Words
Which, when she had them spoken, froze their souls—
Nor none more starkly than the Second Housemaid's,
Unless it were the Boy's—and so to Bed.

CHAPTER FOUR

he majestic poise of the Nordic blood is nowhere seen in greater perfection

than in that crown of our civilization, a modest English Country House.
Here is there no class consciousness, here is there no class war. Each is
in his or her own place, and there is peace through order.
To consider only the servile portion of the establishment: the Butler
has his own dignity, and the various other males—upon whose titles I am a little shaky
—have theirs. So the Females of the species: the Cook cooks; the Kitchen Attendants
attend the kitchen; the Nurse nurses. So with the external squad: the Groom grooms;
the Gardener and all his Assistants garden. With regularity and zeal the Footmen
footle. The mere Maids go maidenly about their tasks. Below these specialised
functionaries, for which Our Race is famous, comes one who may be regarded
indifferently as the foundation of the fabric or the last rung of the ladder, and who is
known as the Boy. On him the petty, unorganised, lesser work devolves, for which his
Superiors are indeed responsible, but the mere brute labour of which is his alone.
 The Boy Ethelbert in Captivity.

Thus it is the Boy who blacks the boots, fills all the coal scuttles and carries them
about, lays the fires and lights them, polishes the knives, the silver plate—the silver
itself, when there is any—and the antique pewter; washes up the dishes of the supper
below stairs, cleans the door knobs and bell handles; pulls up the blinds; pulls back the
curtains of the ground floor. Notably it is he also who conveys to the Upper Servants—
who then shall have risen from slumber—the numbers of the bells that have sounded.
It is he who opens the windows when they should be shut, and shuts them when they
should be open—so far at least as the early hours are concerned, for when the Great
are about this function is performed by a young man in uniform. It is the Boy who lays
out the morning post, sets the newspapers in order—therein discovering the odds—lets
out the little dog—or dogs—and after some few other trifling tasks accomplished,
brushes and carefully folds the clothes of the male guests and lays them out where
stronger and older men shall carry them up, each parcel to its room, and for that
service receive an ultimate reward. It is the Boy who carries up the boots themselves—
for these are defiling to the fingers!—and it is the Boy—mark you: this is essential to
the tale, you must not miss it—it is the Boy who picks up the rugs and shakes them,
room after room, a ritual preparatory to the settling of great clouds of dust, which,
shortly after, not the Boy but a Maid brings down to the rugs again with feathery
instruments and devastating cloths.
Hence it was that the Boy—Ethelbert by his full baptismal name, but in the daily,
Bert—before yet the wintry dawn was more than grey on that Saturday in January,
whistling gaily at his task, was holding the polar bear up by its forepaws and shaking it,
as in duty bound.
His heart was gay, for he was redeemed.
Not so long since, this same Ethelbert had (alas!) in company with youths of his
own age and a little more, not yet free from the trammels of elementary education,
purloined from a shop certain fruits: two bananas.
The Deed might have appeared upon his record at Scotland Yard and dogged him
through life, for he was already eight years of age and knew full well the wickedness of
his act. He had been spared by the noble elasticity of the English Common Law. His
sobbing widowed mother had seen, indeed, the shadow of the police across her
threshold, and Ethelbert had stood in the Felons' Dock before the dud parliamentary
lawyer who had got the local stipendiary job. But our Magistracy—especially that of the
Stipendiary Sort—is famous throughout the whole world for its merciful wisdom. Young
Bert had escaped imprisonment, as having been led away by his senior Charlie
Gasket, who was nearly ten.
He had, I say, been saved; but the memory of the peril had burnt into his soul. And
now, though he was nearly fifteen years of age, the incident still stood out the sharpest
of his memories. It was known to his lord the Butler—perhaps to his Master—but to no
others. He had been taken into the Great House in spite of it all, because his father had
worked upon the estate. Therefore, I say, did Ethelbert feel himself redeemed. But he
trembled still at the apparatus of National Justice.
 The Boy Ethelbert untouched by
Civilisation.

In the innocence of youth he whistled gently to himself. His other work was done;
this performed, he had but now to settle the last rug, the Polar Bear, and then to rouse
his superiors in the hierarchy below stairs, to lay their breakfast out and to attend
thereon as minister. So shook he perfunctorily the Arctic Ursine Fleece, the
Hyperborean Candour, when he heard something fall sharply at his feet. He even
caught a flash of it as it fell. He saw it issuing from that ear of Thule which would hear
no more; he saw it sliding down the whiteness of the hair and gleaming dully in the
candlelight upon the polished wood of the flooring.
There was no mistake. It was IT. It was that pledge of respect and esteem which
the ever-memorable Catherine, Empress of All the Russias, had bestowed three lives
ago upon the stalwart Bones. It was the heirloom of that noble House of de Bohun
which Ethelbert served. It was the Stone on which he had heard all the domestics of
the house inflamed in the last hours of the previous evening.
There is an instinct planted in man by Mr. Darwin, which impels him to pick up a
thing, anything dropped. That instinct Ethelbert obeyed. The act was half unconscious,
immediate; he had slipped the Emerald into his pocket and was already off with a
candle in one hand and the other in a side pocket, fondling the stone. He was off down
the long stone corridor which led along the north of the house towards the offices; and
as he went his mind was full of some vague intention to hand over the treasure-trove to
those in authority—in good time.
But even as he thus went up by the dim candlelight in the cold dawn, along that
prison-like perspective of iron-barred windows and whitewash, with stone flags ringing
to his feet, a vision of judgment arose within him. His teeth chattered at the memory of
the police.
Ethelbert, that product of no more than an elementary education, had received
some general outline of the world from cinemas and from police reports, which that
same education enabled him to read in the more widely circulated Sunday papers.
He could not have told you that society was organized to the advantage of circles to
which he did not belong, and to the disadvantage of his own; but he did know that this
piece of green glass in its leaden-coloured setting of hideous lines would sell for a sum
that would free him from servitude for ever. He also knew that to be found possessed of
it would involve a far worse servitude; a servitude not to the Gentry but to the Force,
and lasting, one way or another, the whole of his life. He knew that such servitude was
torture. The people of his world knew all those things. Therefore did not the emerald
represent to Ethelbert immediate wealth so much as a vision of confinement alone in a
small mechanical cell; upon release, a life-long chain binding him as an informer and
spy over whom further imprisonment should hang at will; a crushing and overwhelming
tyranny; and perhaps at last a secret and abominable death. Of all these things had
young Bert's mind been full from very early years, for all these things still haunt the
distorted fancy of the poor.
He saw himself presenting with trembling hand this Thing of Power, this Emerald, to
his Emperor the Butler; he imagined a first awful and immediate trial at the hands of
that Justiciar, and later an overwhelming sentence from the Master himself. He heard
the key turning in the door of his room; he saw himself a gibbering prisoner therein; he
heard the voices of the Inspector and his accompanying Sergeant; he felt the gyves
upon his wrist.
All this in the few seconds between the West Room of Paulings and the offices built
out of the extreme east.
 So was Ethelbert's mind made up. For his good angel, failing to penetrate the first
thick skin of stupidity and to suggest the simple delivery of the gem to his superiors, at
any rate got through the second skin and suggested a second best.
He had the brushing of the clothes. He would put it into the pocket of some one of
the guests, and then he could breathe freely.
Which guest should it be? No one was yet astir; he was free to choose. There was
a minute or two before the clock would strike the half hour and bid him summon the
earliest riser—after himself—the kitchen-maid. Her name, Kathleen Parkinson, I take
the liberty of giving you, although she will appear no more in these pages.
There lay the three little piles of clothes, to be carefully brushed and folded up by
himself, within the next half hour, and among them how could a youth of romantic
genius hesitate? Did not every novelette, every Sunday paper, every cinema, point with
unerring finger to the lord? Are not lords and jewels made one for the other, like love
and laughter, or politics and stocks and shares? The lord could not but be the recipient
of the emerald, and when he should have received it, who fitter than he to deal with
such trifles? Bert could see him in his mind's eye, and hear him in his mind's ear,
strolling up to the Master of the House and saying, in that airy accent which had always
so astonished him in the wealthy:
"Oh, I say, Humph, I found the bloody thing this morning and picked it up—what?"
Now into which pocket of Lord Galton's quiet blue suit should it go? Into the right-
hand trousers pocket; for therein, as Bert knew by fruitful search, his lordship carried
loose change. From the waistcoat it might fall out. In the coat pockets it might lurk for
long without being found; in Lord Galton's right-hand trousers pocket, therefore, did the
emerald go, to the full depth thereof. The garment was folded again very neatly. And all
was well.

* * * * * * *
In the fulness of time, the sun being already risen—yes, for an hour or more—one
of those older young domestics of whom I have spoken bore up a parcel of clothes and
a can of hot water to Lord Galton's door. All the ritual of these palaces was gone
through. The socks were turned inside out, the shirt laid out like a corpse in its shroud,
the pile of brushed and folded clothes set upon a chair, the fire lit—as though the room
were not already stifling with a hot-air machine; the window opened wider, as though
the piercing air had not already started a draught which had fought with the hot air all
night long. The under-upper servant glided away, and Lord Galton got out of bed and
shaved and washed and dressed; considering in his mind what all others woke to
consider in that same house on that same morning, but especially the Fated Three: the
Emerald.
He looked at his watch; it was a quarter past nine. He stood gazing out of the
window at the frosty mist on the damp gaunt trees of the park, and tried to estimate
how he really stood in the minds of those about him.
Who would believe that he knew nothing of the stone? Which of them had heard—
several of them, he knew—which of them believed that story about Attaboy? Certainly
his host, almost certainly Vic—she knew everything. He was not quite certain that she
had not meant to rag him about it in something she had said during the day before.
She would not misunderstand, but she knew about it.
Did that damned greasy fellow the journalist know? He doubted it; they never did
know the things that counted. And as for the Don, he might as well have suspected the
first imbecile in the County Asylum.
Marjorie did not know; he was pretty sure of that by her way to him. But still ... it
was known enough; it was known to two.... After all, what was pulling a horse, and
what had it to do with pinching emeralds, anyhow? ... Yet ... yet ... he could not leave
Paulings till it was cleared up.... If the damned thing turned up in town in some
receiver's shop they might connect it with him.... He was glad he hadn't brought a
man.... No, he must stay till it was cleared up. It was a damned nuisance. They were
getting up a party on Sunday night at the Posts. There was to be a rich young fool from
Ireland whom they would all play with. Those occasions were not so common
nowadays. But he must sacrifice it. He must stay on.
He made his decision; he slowly picked up the small change off his dressing table
and shuffled it into his trousers pocket. Then he mechanically followed it with his hand,
and found something that was not a coin....
At first he had the grotesque idea that he was handling a pebble, though how it
could have got there he could not conceive. Then a matchbox, for it was smooth and
cold.... When he pulled it out and saw what it was, his whole mind went through a
violent shock of revulsion.
He was so sickened, strong as he was, that he had to sit down and recover himself.
And as he so sat, he fixed the dreadful thing with his eye, holding it there between the
fingers of his right hand, unmoving.
Now indeed was a resolution to be taken!
At first his mind would not work. A man possessed of a thing, no matter what he
does with it, carries his communications about with him, leaves traces about of his
possession. If he threw it out of the window, it would be found within the radius of such
a throw. There was nowhere in the room where he would dare to hide it. If he dropped
it as he went downstairs, a servant might pass and find it within a minute, connecting
him with what was so found.
Give it back himself he dared not. That would mean, "Poor Tommy! He gave way,
but he did the honest thing in the end." He would be branded for life. Attaboy was
enough, without that.
At first the easiest course lured him; to say nothing; to keep it upon his person until
everything had blown over; then to take it up with him to town.... Then? ... He could not
help remembering how Alfred had told him about his uncle and the cutting
establishment in Amsterdam. It was all mixed up with the committee for inquiring into
the Meldon business when there was that trouble in Parliament a few years before.... It
seemed that one could have a stone cut and get it back unrecognisable.... Then he
thrust the thought out of his mind and shuddered a little at the danger.
 Lord Galton discovers the Emerald.

But if he kept it, where should he put it? Where could he put it so as to be certain
during the night—to be absolutely certain—that no one could find it with him or near
him? What if he should fall faint or ill? What if ... No, there was only one thing to be
done. He must pass it on. No matter what tale he told—even if he told the truth—to
appear with it in his possession and to make an explanation was to damn himself
finally, and that just at the moment his half-damnation on the turf was beginning to be
forgotten.... He must pass it on.... He must pass it on.
 There was one obvious repository; an aged fool of that profession whose
incompetence is stamped upon them; a native dupe. It should go into the pocket of his
distinguished cousin, the Professor; it should pass into the unwitting possession of the
expert on dodekahedral crystals. His mind thus decided, he was half at peace.
Lord Galton went down to breakfast. He found his host already at the table. The
others came in gradually, and no one talked of the stone; nor upon anything else to
speak of—for of the stone everyone was thinking.
It was, naturally, the learned cousin, the Professor, who first put in the word that
should not have been spoken. He did it somewhere about the jam, and when the Home
Secretary was already feeling the need for a pipe. Perhaps food had strengthened him.
He piped up in his quavering voice:
"Ah! Any news about the emerald, Humphrey? Any news this morning about the
emerald? About the emerald? ... the emerald? ... the emerald?"
There is a natural sequence in fools, as in all others of God's creatures. Aunt
Amelia came in a good second.
"Oh, yes, Humphrey," she bleated, in that woolly-mutton voice which fitted her as
does sodden mist a marshy formless hill. "Is there any news about the emerald?"
"There is hardly likely to be, Amelia," said her brother, as tartly as he could be got to
say anything, for long years of suave politician's make-believe had untartled his
tongue.
"I thought," said Aunt Amelia in self-defense, "that some servant might have found it
and told you."
"Well, they have not," said her brother, shortly; and there was silence.
The journalist opened his mouth—which he should not have done—and began
rather too loudly, and in too high a pitch:
"What I think, you know ..." and then stopped suddenly—which put him in no better
case.
What Victoria Mosel would have said nobody knew, for she took her breakfast in
bed—always. But Marjorie had come down in the midst of this, and spoke sharply. She
had slept little and her temper was on edge.
"Oh, that's enough about the emerald!" she said. "What's the good of talking of it
now?" Then she gave one sweeping look around, like a searchlight trying to spot a
boat, and betook herself to the jam.
The one who said nothing was the young racing man with the emerald in his
trousers pocket. He was not sure of it—he touched its pin point two or three times
furtively to make certain the gem had not dropped out; and then he began, by way of
clearing the air, to talk to the learned Professor about indifferent things.
But these indifferent things had a purport in them. For first he talked of the
University, then of that degraded College, St. Filbert's, and so worked things round to
the infamous B. Leader, and that fairly started his companion off—as Lord Galton had
intended he should be started.
 The old Don was still at it when they got up from the breakfast table. He was
shepherded—though he did not know that he was being shepherded—by the younger
man, out into the hall, helped into his rusty overcoat, led out through the glass doors
into the park, and there did Lord Galton patiently listen to his academic victim for
something over a quarter of an hour, as they walked side by side up the swept gravel to
the very far end of the avenue, and then turned back again towards the house.
Long before they thus faced about, the learned cousin's mind was a thousand miles
away from reality. The harangue which poured forth against the infamous B. Leader
needed but little sympathetic jogging—a word here and there—from his companion.
His soul was not in his body. You might have stuck a pin into him, and he would not
have felt it; and Lord Galton, who knew men nearly as well as he knew horses—at
least on the side of their weaknesses—felt secure that the moment had come. And as
he leaned forward, sympathetically close to the left side of his companion, he gently
dropped into the loose, wrinkled side pocket of the rusty overcoat that perilous gem,
and felt as though he had cast off a garment of lead.
The expert in dodekahedral crystals still poured out unceasingly and shrilly his
grievance, with many a "Would you believe it?" and "If you please!" and "Then he
actually wrote to the Society at Berne," and so on; and Lord Galton, almost grateful in
the new lightness of his heart, applauded heartily and loudly marvelled that the Society
at Berne did not drum Leader out of their ranks with every mark of infamy.
"So," he thought, as they came into the house again—the quavering voice of the
Crystallographer still more emphatic within four walls—"salvation comes with a little
intelligence, a little decision, and a little opportunity."
He helped the old fool out of his overcoat; hung it up for him on a peg, and saw its
owner go shambling off to his books.
Lord Galton was pleased with himself; he saw his way fairly straight before him, but
he would do nothing hastily ... which might flurry the head of the house.... It would be a
wise and a small risk, to bide his time. He would bide it till the noon post had come in,
until his host had looked at his letters. Then only would he take the next step in his
programme. He sauntered out again into the Park, where he would feel the strain of
waiting less, with a walk to occupy him. He looked back over his shoulder when he had
got round towards the lodge, and saw for one moment through the window of the
library his aged relative pottering among the shelves. He was safe till lunch. And Lord
Galton, though all alone, smiled.

* * * * * * *
The young man walked briskly for a couple of miles, thinking clearly and concisely.
He came back to Paulings through the mill gate, up by the stables, walking strongly
and well. He knew exactly what he had to do.
He met one of the servants, and asked where Mr. de Bohun might be, and was told
he was in the garage; sought him there, and found him giving orders about a repair,
and trying—unsuccessfully—to understand whether the proud chauffeur were lying or
no.
 He went straight up to his cousin, who turned round at hearing his step, and said in
a very low voice, and quickly:
"Let me see you in your study alone for a moment. It is urgent!"
And the Home Secretary, glancing up hurriedly with a half-frightened look, said,
"Yes? Certainly! Come."

CHAPTER FIVE

ord Galton stood by the Home Secretary in his study, looked round
suddenly, and said, "May I lock the door?" locked it without leave and then
came back and began talking.
The young fellow talked as impressively as ever he had talked when
he was giving instructions to a jockey, or rather, to the go-between who
took the risk. He knew how to talk, as do most men who are successful in giving
instructions to jockeys. His sentences came, weighty, short, decisive, and each had its
effect. Men said he would have done well in the House of Commons, but the men who
have said that do not know the House of Commons. Yes, he would have done well in
the House of Commons: not by oratory, but by what I may call the Attaboy side of his
character. He began:
"Humphrey, I'm going to tell you about the emerald. I think I know where it is."
The Home Secretary looked up, startled; but he did not interrupt.
"I want to begin by saying that I know I am myself under suspicion."
"Oh, my dear Tommy," began his unfortunate host. But the younger man put up a
hand like a slab of stone.
"No," he said. "There's no time to be wasted, and we must have things absolutely
clear. One of us three must have got that brooch. No doubt we are all under suspicion
—but I know why I am under suspicion. People say I pulled a horse." Again the Home
Secretary would have interrupted, but the heavy hand made an impatient gesture, and
again he checked himself. "Marjorie mayn't believe it, and of course that old fool of a
Cousin Bill hasn't heard of it; and as for that journalist fellow McTibbert, or whatever his
name is, he may or may not have; I don't care. But anyhow, you know it. You've heard
all about it!"
"But, my dear Tommy," broke in the Home Secretary, lying eagerly and almost with
affection, "I don't believe it. Believe me, I don't believe it. Do you suppose," he added
with beautiful tact, "that if I believed it I'd have you here at Paulings?"
Lord Galton just showed at the muscles of the mouth what a fool he thought the
man. He went on undisturbed.
 "It's nothing to do with the value of the lie—they haven't turned me out of the Posts,
for that matter; nor warned me off. But the point is, the story has gone the rounds. A
man that would cheat would steal. Also you know I'm on the rocks, and therefore I'm
under suspicion. Now we're all three under suspicion, as I say. That old ass, Cousin
Bill, got mixed up with the Mullingar Diamond years ago—too much of a fool to pinch it
for selling; wanted to look at it through one of his contraptions. Anyhow, he can't keep
his hands off crystals. And an emerald's a crystal."
"Is it?" asked the Head of the Family with great interest.
"I think so—I don't know," said Galton impatiently. "Anyhow, it's a jewel, a precious
stone—what?"
"Oh, yes! It's a jewel, yes, a precious stone. Oh, yes," admitted Humphrey de
Bohun.
"Well then, so's a diamond. A man who'll take diamonds'll take emeralds—what? ...
Then there's that journalist fellow—he's under suspicion because he's a journalist;
they're all on their uppers, and you told me yourself about the one who stole the
spoons when you were at the Board of Works."
A faint smile appeared for a moment on the face of his host. It was his favourite
funny story—all about a journalist who once stole some government spoons. He had
told it on every occasion. He told it to journalists. But then he was never really featured
by the Press.
"Now of those three," went on Lord Galton, rather more slowly, and separating his
words, "the man who has got it is our miserable old family goat, Cousin Bill...."
The Home Secretary started.