the ragged trousered philanthropists-第51部分

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‘That　butcher's　a　very　decent　sort　of　chap；　you　know；　Dad；'　he　said。　‘He　wouldn't　take　a　penny　for　the　meat。'

‘Is　that　what　you　were　talking　to　him　about？'

No；　we　were　talking　about　Socialism。　　You　see；　this　is　the　second　time　he　wouldn't　take　the　money；　and　the　first　time　he　did　it　I　thought　he　must　be　a　Socialist；　but　I　didn't　ask　him　then。　　But　when　he　did　it　again　this　time　I　asked　him　if　he　was。　　So　he　said；　No。　　He　said　he　wasn't　quite　mad　yet。　　So　I　said；　〃If　you　think　that　Socialists　are　all　mad；　you're　very　much　mistaken；　because　I'm　a　Socialist　myself；　and　I'm　quite　sure　I'M　not　mad。〃　　So　he　said　he　knew　I　was　all　right；　but　he　didn't　understand　anything　about　Socialism　himself　…　only　that　it　meant　sharing　out　all　the　money　so　that　everyone　could　have　the　same。　　So　then　I　told　him　that's　not　Socialism　at　all！　　And　when　I　explained　it　to　him　properly　and　advised　him　to　be　one；　he　said　he'd　think　about　it。　　So　I　said　if　he'd　only　do　that　he'd　be　sure　to　change　over　to　our　side；　and　then　he　laughed　and　promised　to　let　me　know　next　time　he　sees　me；　and　I　promised　to　lend　him　some　literature。　You　won't　mind；　will　you；　Dad？'

‘Of　course　not；　when　we　get　home　we'll　have　a　look　through　what　we've　got　and　you　can　take　him　some　of　them。'

‘I　know！'　cried　Frankie　eagerly。　　‘The　two　very　best　of　all。　　Happy　Britain　and　England　for　the　English。'

He　knew　that　these　were　‘two　of　the　best'　because　he　had　often　heard　his　father　and　mother　say　so；　and　he　had　noticed　that　whenever　a　Socialist　friend　came　to　visit　them；　he　was　also　of　the　same　opinion。



As　a　rule　on　Saturday　evenings　they　all　three　went　out　together　to　do　the　marketing；　but　on　this　occasion；　in　consequence　of　Nora　being　unwell；　Owen　and　Frankie　went　by　themselves。　　The　frequent　recurrence　of　his　wife's　illness　served　to　increase　Owen's　pessimism　with　regard　to　the　future；　and　the　fact　that　he　was　unable　to　procure　for　her　the　comforts　she　needed　was　not　calculated　to　dispel　the　depression　that　filled　his　mind　as　he　reflected　that　there　was　no　hope　of　better　times。

In　the　majority　of　cases；　for　a　workman　there　is　no　hope　of　advancement。　　After　he　has　learnt　his　trade　and　become　a　‘journeyman'　all　progress　ceases。　　He　is　at　the　goal。　　After　he　has　been　working　ten　or　twenty　years　he　commands　no　more　than　he　did　at　first　…　a　bare　living　wage　…　sufficient　money　to　purchase　fuel　to　keep　the　human　machine　working。　　As　he　grows　older　he　will　have　to　be　content　with　even　less；　and　all　the　time　he　holds　his　employment　at　the　caprice　and　by　the　favour　of　his　masters；　who　regard　him　merely　as　a　piece　of　mechanism　that　enables　them　to　accumulate　money　…　a　thing　which　they　are　justified　in　casting　aside　as　soon　as　it　becomes　unprofitable。　And　the　workman　must　not　only　be　an　efficient　money…producing　machine；　but　he　must　also　be　the　servile　subject　of　his　masters。　　If　he　is　not　abjectly　civil　and　humble；　if　he　will　not　submit　tamely　to　insult；　indignity；　and　every　form　of　contemptuous　treatment　that　occasion　makes　possible；　he　can　be　dismissed；　and　replaced　in　a　moment　by　one　of　the　crowd　of　unemployed　who　are　always　waiting　for　his　job。　　This　is　the　status　of　the　majority　of　the　‘Heirs　of　all　the　ages'　under　the　present　system。

As　he　walked　through　the　crowded　streets　holding　Frankie　by　the　hand；　Owen　thought　that　to　voluntarily　continue　to　live　such　a　life　as　this　betokened　a　degraded　mind。　　To　allow　one's　child　to　grow　up　to　suffer　it　in　turn　was　an　act　of　callous；　criminal　cruelty。

In　this　matter　he　held　different　opinions　from　most　of　his　fellow　workmen。　　The　greater　number　of　them　were　quite　willing　and　content　that　their　children　should　be　made　into　beasts　of　burden　for　the　benefit　of　other　people。　　As　he　looked　down　upon　the　little；　frail　figure　trotting　along　by　his　side；　Owen　thought　for　the　thousandth　time　that　it　would　be　far　better　for　the　child　to　die　now：　he　would　never　be　fit　to　be　a　soldier　in　the　ferocious　Christian　Battle　of　Life。

Then　he　remembered　Nora。　　Although　she　was　always　brave；　and　never　complained；　he　knew　that　her　life　was　one　of　almost　incessant　physical　suffering；　and　as　for　himself　he　was　tired　and　sick　of　it　all。　　He　had　been　working　like　a　slave　all　his　life　and　there　was　nothing　to　show　for　it　…　there　never　would　be　anything　to　show　for　it。　　He　thought　of　the　man　who　had　killed　his　wife　and　children。　　The　jury　had　returned　the　usual　verdict；　‘Temporary　Insanity'。　　It　never　seemed　to　occur　to　these　people　that　the　truth　was　that　to　continue　to　suffer　hopelessly　like　this　was　evidence　of　permanent　insanity。

But　supposing　that　bodily　death　was　not　the　end。　　Suppose　there　was　some　kind　of　a　God？　　If　there　were；　it　wasn't　unreasonable　to　think　that　the　Being　who　was　capable　of　creating　such　a　world　as　this　and　who　seemed　so　callously　indifferent　to　the　unhappiness　of　His　creatures；　would　also　be　capable　of　devising　and　creating　the　other　Hell　that　most　people　believed　in。

Although　it　was　December　the　evening　was　mild　and　clear。　　The　full　moon　deluged　the　town　with　silvery　light；　and　the　cloudless　sky　was　jewelled　with　myriads　of　glittering　stars。

Looking　out　into　the　unfathomable　infinity　of　space；　Owen　wondered　what　manner　of　Being　or　Power　it　was　that　had　originated　and　sustained　all　this？　　Considered　as　an　explanation　of　the　existence　of　the　universe；　the　orthodox　Christian　religion　was　too　absurd　to　merit　a　second　thought。　　But　then；　every　other　conceivable　hypothesis　was　also　…　ultimately　…　unsatisfactory　and　even　ridiculous。　　To　believe　that　the　universe　as　it　is　now　has　existed　from　all　eternity　without　any　Cause　is　surely　ridiculous。　　But　to　say　that　it　was　created　by　a　Being　who　existed　without　a　Cause　from　all　eternity　is　equally　ridiculous。　　In　fact；　it　was　only　postponing　the　difficulty　one　stage。　　Evolution　was　not　more　satisfactory；　because　although　it　was　undoubtedly　true　as　far　as　it　went；　it　only　went　part　of　the　way；　leaving　the　great　question　still　unanswered　by　assuming　the　existence　…　in　the　beginning　…　of　the　elements　of　matter；　without　a　cause！　　The　question　remained　unanswered　because　it　was　unanswerable。　　Regarding　this　problem　man　was　but　…

　　　　　　　　‘An　infant　crying　in　the　night；　　　　　　　　　An　infant　crying　for　the　light　　　　　　　　　And　with　no　language　but　a　cry。'

All　the　same；　it　did　not　follow；　because　one　could　not　explain　the　mystery　oneself；　that　it　was　right　to　try　to　believe　an　unreasonable　explanation　offered　by　someone　else。

But　although　he　reasoned　like　this；　Owen　could　not　help　longing　for　something　to　believe；　for　some　hope　for　the　future；　something　to　compensate　for　the　unhappiness　of　the　present。　　In　one　sense；　he　thought；　how　good　it　would　be　if　Christianity　were　true；　and　after　all　the　sorrow　there　was　to　be　an　eternity　of　happiness　such　as　it　had　never　entered　into　the　heart　of　man　to　conceive？　　If　only　that　were　true；　nothing　else　would　matter。　How　contemptible　and　insignificant　the　very　worst　that　could　happen　here　would　be　if　one　knew　that　this　life　was　only　a　short　journey　that　was　to　terminate　at　the　beginning　of　an　eternity　of　joy？　　But　no　one　really　believed　this；　and　as　for　those　who　pretended　to　do　so　…　their　lives　showed　that　they　did　not　believe　it　at　all。　　Their　greed　and　inhumanity　…　their　ferocious　determination　to　secure　for　themselves　the　good　things　of　THIS　world　…　were　conclusive　proofs　of　their　hypocrisy　and　infidelity。

‘Dad；'　said　Frankie；　suddenly；　'let's　go　over　and　hear　what　that　man's　saying。　'　He　pointed　across　the　way　to　where　…　a　little　distance　back　from　the　main　road；　just　round　the　corner　of　a　side　street　…　a　group　of　people　were　standing　encircling　a　large　lantern　fixed　on　the　top　of　a　pole　about　seven　feet　high；　which　was　being　held　by　one　of　the　men。　A　bright　light　was　burning　inside　this　lantern　and　on　the　pane　of　white；　obscured　glass　which　formed　the　sides；　visible　from　where　Owen　and　Frankie　were　standing；　was　written　in　bold　plain　letters　that　were　readable　even　at　that　distance；　the　text：

　　　　　　　　‘Be　not　deceived：　God　is　not　mocked！'

The　man　whose　voice　had　attracted　Frankie's　attention　was　reading　out　a　verse　of　a　hymn：

　　　　　　　　‘I　heard　the　voice　of　Jesus　say；　　　　　　　　　Behold；　I　freely　give；　　　　　　　　　The　living　water；　thirsty　one；　　　　　　　　　Stoop　down　and　drink；　and　live。　　　　　　　　　I　came　to　Jesus　and　I　drank　　　　　　　　　Of　that　life　giving　stream；　　　　　　　　　My　thirst　was　quenched；　　　　　　　　　My　soul　revived；　　　　　　　　　And　now　I　live　in　Him。'

The　individual　who　gave　out　this　hymn　was　a　tall；　thin　man　whose　clothes　hung　loosely　on　the　angles　of　his　round…shouldered；　bony　form。　His　long；　thin　legs　…　about　which　the　baggy　trousers　hung　in　ungraceful　folds　…　were　slightly　knock…kneed；　and　terminated　in　large；　fiat　feet。　　His　arms　were　very　long　even　for　such　a　tall　man；　and　the　huge；　bony　hands　were　gnarled　and　knotted。　　Regardless　of　the　season；　he　had　removed　his　bowler　hat；　revealing　his　forehead；　which　was　high；　flat　and　narrow。　　His　nose　was　a　large；　fleshy；　hawklike　beak；　and　from　the　side　of　each　nostril　a　deep　indentation　extended　downwards　until　it　disappeared　in　the　drooping　moustache　that　concealed　his　mouth　when　he　was　not　speaking；　but　the　vast　extent　of　which　was　perceptible　now　as　he　opened　it　to　call　out　the　words　of　the　hymn。　His　chin　was　large　and　extraordinarily　long：　the　eyes　were　pale　blue；　very　small　and　close　together；　surmounted　by　spare；　light…coloured；　almost　invisible　eyebrows　with　a　deep　vertical　cleft　between　them　over　the　nose。　　His　head　…　covered　with　thick；　coarse　brown　hair　…　was　very　large；　especially　at　the　back；　the　ears　were　small　and　laid　close　to　the　head。　　If　one　were　to　make　a　full…face　drawing　of　his　cadaverous　visage；　it　would　be　found　that　the　outline　resembled　that　of　the　lid　of　a　coffin。

As　Owen　and　Frankie　drew　near；　the　boy　tugged　at　his　father's　hand　and　whispered：　‘Dad！　that's　the　teacher　at　the　Sunday　School　where　I　went　that　day　with　Charley　and　Elsie。'

Owen　looked　quickly　and　saw　that　it　was　Hunter。

As　Hunter　ceased　reading　out　the　words　of　the　hymn；　the　little　company　of　evangelists　began　to　sing；　accompanied　by　the　strains　of　a　small　but　peculiarly　sweet…toned　organ。　　A　few　persons　in　the　crowd　joined　in；　the　words　being　familiar　to　them。　　During　the　singing　their　faces　were　a　study；　th