The Pilgrim's Regress by C. S. Lewis

currents of the wind as though it sauntered an invisible stair towards the low rain-clouds.
    â€˜Good!’ cried Vertue. ‘We are nearing the coast.’
    â€˜It’s a good step yet, sir,’ said Drudge. ‘These gulls come forty miles inland and more in bad weather.’
    Then they plodded on for many more miles. And the sky began to turn from sunless grey to starless black. And they looked and saw a little shanty by the roadside and there they knocked on the door.

II
    Three Pale Men
    W HEN THEY WERE let in they found three young men, all very thin and pale, seated by a stove under the low roof of the hut. There was some sacking on a bench along one wall and little comfort else.
    â€˜You will fare badly here,’ said one of the three men. ‘But I am a Steward and it is my duty according to my office to share my supper with you. You may come in.’ His name was Mr. Neo-Angular.
    â€˜I am sorry that my convictions do not allow me to repeat my friend’s offer,’ said one of the others. ‘But I have had to abandon the humanitarian and egalitarian fallacies.’ His name was Mr. Neo-Classical.
    â€˜I hope,’ said the third, ‘that your wanderings in lonely places do not mean that you have any of the romantic virus still in your blood.’ His name was Mr. Humanist.
    John was too tired and Drudge too respectful to reply: but Vertue said to Mr. Neo-Angular, ‘You are very kind. You are saving our lives.’
    â€˜I am not kind at all,’ said Mr. Neo-Angular with some warmth. ‘I am doing my duty. My ethics are based on dogma, not on feeling.’
    â€˜I understand you very well,’ said Vertue. ‘May I shake hands with you?’
    â€˜Can it be,’ said the other, ‘that you are one of us? You are a Catholic? A scholastic?’
    â€˜I know nothing about that,’ said Vertue, ‘but I know that the rule is to be obeyed because it is a rule and not because it appeals to my feelings at the moment.’
    â€˜I see you are not one of us,’ said Angular, ‘and you are undoubtedly damned. Virtutes paganorum splendida vitia. Now let us eat.’
    Then I dreamed that the three pale men produced three tins of bully beef and six biscuits, and Angular shared his with the guests. There was very little for each and I thought that the best share fell to John and Drudge, for Vertue and the young Steward entered into a kind of rivalry who should leave most for the others.
    â€˜Our fare is simple,’ said Mr. Neo-Classical. ‘And perhaps unwelcome to palates that have been reared on the kickshaws of lower countries. But you see the perfection of form. This beef is a perfect cube: this biscuit a true square.’
    â€˜You will admit,’ said Mr. Humanist, ‘that, at least, our meal is quite free from any lingering flavour of the old romantic sauces.’
    â€˜Quite free,’ said John, staring at the empty tin.
    â€˜It’s better than radishes, sir,’ said Drudge.
    â€˜Do you live here, gentlemen?’ said Vertue when the empty tins had been removed.
    â€˜We do,’ said Mr. Humanist. ‘We are founding a new community. At present we suffer the hardships of pioneers and have to import our food: but when we have brought the country under cultivation we shall have plenty—as much plenty as is needed for the practice of temperance.’
    â€˜You interest me exceedingly,’ said Vertue. ‘What are the principles of this community?’
    â€˜Catholicism, Humanism, Classicism,’ said all three.
    â€˜Catholicism! Then you are all Stewards?’
    â€˜Certainly not,’ said Classical and Humanist.
    â€˜At least you all believe in the Landlord?’
    â€˜I have no interest in the question,’ said Classical.
    â€˜And I,’ said Humanist, ‘know perfectly well that the Landlord is a fable.’
    â€˜And I,’ said Angular, ‘know perfectly well that