the man who was thursday-第7部分

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　into　a　more　than　pagan　latitude；　and　by　the　time　the　former　had　come　to　enforcing　vegetarianism；　the　latter　had　pretty　well　reached　the　point　of　defending　cannibalism。

Being　surrounded　with　every　conceivable　kind　of　revolt　from　infancy；　Gabriel　had　to　revolt　into　something；　so　he　revolted　into　the　only　thing　leftsanity。　But　there　was　just　enough　in　him　of　the　blood　of　these　fanatics　to　make　even　his　protest　for　common　sense　a　little　too　fierce　to　be　sensible。　His　hatred　of　modern　lawlessness　had　been　crowned　also　by　an　accident。　It　happened　that　he　was　walking　in　a　side　street　at　the　instant　of　a　dynamite　outrage。　He　had　been　blind　and　deaf　for　a　moment；　and　then　seen；　the　smoke　clearing；　the　broken　windows　and　the　bleeding　faces。　After　that　he　went　about　as　usualquiet；　courteous；　rather　gentle；　but　there　was　a　spot　on　his　mind　that　was　not　sane。　He　did　not　regard　anarchists；　as　most　of　us　do；　as　a　handful　of　morbid　men；　combining　ignorance　with　intellectualism。　He　regarded　them　as　a　huge　and　pitiless　peril；　like　a　Chinese　invasion。

He　poured　perpetually　into　newspapers　and　their　waste…paper　baskets　a　torrent　of　tales；　verses　and　violent　articles；　warning　men　of　this　deluge　of　barbaric　denial。　But　he　seemed　to　be　getting　no　nearer　his　enemy；　and；　what　was　worse；　no　nearer　a　living。　As　he　paced　the　Thames　embankment；　bitterly　biting　a　cheap　cigar　and　brooding　on　the　advance　of　Anarchy；　there　was　no　anarchist　with　a　bomb　in　his　pocket　so　savage　or　so　solitary　as　he。　Indeed；　he　always　felt　that　Government　stood　alone　and　desperate；　with　its　back　to　the　wall。　He　was　too　quixotic　to　have　cared　for　it　otherwise。

He　walked　on　the　Embankment　once　under　a　dark　red　sunset。　The　red　river　reflected　the　red　sky；　and　they　both　reflected　his　anger。　The　sky；　indeed；　was　so　swarthy；　and　the　light　on　the　river　relatively　so　lurid；　that　the　water　almost　seemed　of　fiercer　flame　than　the　sunset　it　mirrored。　It　looked　like　a　stream　of　literal　fire　winding　under　the　vast　caverns　of　a　subterranean　country。

Syme　was　shabby　in　those　days。　He　wore　an　old…fashioned　black　chimney…pot　hat；　he　was　wrapped　in　a　yet　more　old…fashioned　cloak；　black　and　ragged；　and　the　combination　gave　him　the　look　of　the　early　villains　in　Dickens　and　Bulwer　Lytton。　Also　his　yellow　beard　and　hair　were　more　unkempt　and　leonine　than　when　they　appeared　long　afterwards；　cut　and　pointed；　on　the　lawns　of　Saffron　Park。　A　long；　lean；　black　cigar；　bought　in　Soho　for　twopence；　stood　out　from　between　his　tightened　teeth；　and　altogether　he　looked　a　very　satisfactory　specimen　of　the　anarchists　upon　whom　he　had　vowed　a　holy　war。　Perhaps　this　was　why　a　policeman　on　the　Embankment　spoke　to　him；　and　said　〃Good　evening。〃

Syme；　at　a　crisis　of　his　morbid　fears　for　humanity；　seemed　stung　by　the　mere　stolidity　of　the　automatic　official；　a　mere　bulk　of　blue　in　the　twilight。

〃A　good　evening　is　it？〃　he　said　sharply。　〃You　fellows　would　call　the　end　of　the　world　a　good　evening。　Look　at　that　bloody　red　sun　and　that　bloody　river！　I　tell　you　that　if　that　were　literally　human　blood；　spilt　and　shining；　you　would　still　be　standing　here　as　solid　as　ever；　looking　out　for　some　poor　harmless　tramp　whom　you　could　move　on。　You　policemen　are　cruel　to　the　poor；　but　I　could　forgive　you　even　your　cruelty　if　it　were　not　for　your　calm。〃

〃If　we　are　calm；〃　replied　the　policeman；　〃it　is　the　calm　of　organised　resistance。〃

〃Eh？〃　said　Syme；　staring。

〃The　soldier　must　be　calm　in　the　thick　of　the　battle；〃　pursued　the　policeman。　〃The　composure　of　an　army　is　the　anger　of　a　nation。〃

〃Good　God；　the　Board　Schools！〃　said　Syme。　〃Is　this　undenominational　education？〃

〃No；〃　said　the　policeman　sadly；　〃I　never　had　any　of　those　advantages。　The　Board　Schools　came　after　my　time。　What　education　I　had　was　very　rough　and　old…fashioned；　I　am　afraid。〃

〃Where　did　you　have　it？〃　asked　Syme；　wondering。

〃Oh；　at　Harrow；〃　said　the　policeman

The　class　sympathies　which；　false　as　they　are；　are　the　truest　things　in　so　many　men；　broke　out　of　Syme　before　he　could　control　them。

〃But；　good　Lord；　man；〃　he　said；　〃you　oughtn't　to　be　a　policeman！〃

The　policeman　sighed　and　shook　his　head。

〃I　know；〃　he　said　solemnly；　〃I　know　I　am　not　worthy。〃

〃But　why　did　you　join　the　police？〃　asked　Syme　with　rude　curiosity。

〃For　much　the　same　reason　that　you　abused　the　police；〃　replied　the　other。　〃I　found　that　there　was　a　special　opening　in　the　service　for　those　whose　fears　for　humanity　were　concerned　rather　with　the　aberrations　of　the　scientific　intellect　than　with　the　normal　and　excusable；　though　excessive；　outbreaks　of　the　human　will。　I　trust　I　make　myself　clear。〃

〃If　you　mean　that　you　make　your　opinion　clear；〃　said　Syme；　〃I　suppose　you　do。　But　as　for　making　yourself　clear；　it　is　the　last　thing　you　do。　How　comes　a　man　like　you　to　be　talking　philosophy　in　a　blue　helmet　on　the　Thames　embankment？

〃You　have　evidently　not　heard　of　the　latest　development　in　our　police　system；〃　replied　the　other。　〃I　am　not　surprised　at　it。　We　are　keeping　it　rather　dark　from　the　educated　class；　because　that　class　contains　most　of　our　enemies。　But　you　seem　to　be　exactly　in　the　right　frame　of　mind。　I　think　you　might　almost　join　us。〃

〃Join　you　in　what？〃　asked　Syme。

〃I　will　tell　you；〃　said　the　policeman　slowly。　〃This　is　the　situation：　The　head　of　one　of　our　departments；　one　of　the　most　celebrated　detectives　in　Europe；　has　long　been　of　opinion　that　a　purely　intellectual　conspiracy　would　soon　threaten　the　very　existence　of　civilisation。　He　is　certain　that　the　scientific　and　artistic　worlds　are　silently　bound　in　a　crusade　against　the　Family　and　the　State。　He　has；　therefore；　formed　a　special　corps　of　policemen；　policemen　who　are　also　philosophers。　It　is　their　business　to　watch　the　beginnings　of　this　conspiracy；　not　merely　in　a　criminal　but　in　a　controversial　sense。　I　am　a　democrat　myself；　and　I　am　fully　aware　of　the　value　of　the　ordinary　man　in　matters　of　ordinary　valour　or　virtue。　But　it　would　obviously　be　undesirable　to　employ　the　common　policeman　in　an　investigation　which　is　also　a　heresy　hunt。〃

Syme's　eyes　were　bright　with　a　sympathetic　curiosity。

〃What　do　you　do；　then？〃　he　said。

〃The　work　of　the　philosophical　policeman；〃　replied　the　man　in　blue；　〃is　at　once　bolder　and　more　subtle　than　that　of　the　ordinary　detective。　The　ordinary　detective　goes　to　pot…houses　to　arrest　thieves；　we　go　to　artistic　tea…parties　to　detect　pessimists。　The　ordinary　detective　discovers　from　a　ledger　or　a　diary　that　a　crime　has　been　committed。　We　discover　from　a　book　of　sonnets　that　a　crime　will　be　committed。　We　have　to　trace　the　origin　of　those　dreadful　thoughts　that　drive　men　on　at　last　to　intellectual　fanaticism　and　intellectual　crime。　We　were　only　just　in　time　to　prevent　the　assassination　at　Hartle　pool；　and　that　was　entirely　due　to　the　fact　that　our　Mr。　Wilks　（a　smart　young　fellow）　thoroughly　understood　a　triolet。〃

〃Do　you　mean；〃　asked　Syme；　〃that　there　is　really　as　much　connection　between　crime　and　the　modern　intellect　as　all　that？〃

〃You　are　not　sufficiently　democratic；〃　answered　the　policeman；　〃but　you　were　right　when　you　said　just　now　that　our　ordinary　treatment　of　the　poor　criminal　was　a　pretty　brutal　business。　I　tell　you　I　am　sometimes　sick　of　my　trade　when　I　see　how　perpetually　it　means　merely　a　war　upon　the　ignorant　and　the　desperate。　But　this　new　movement　of　ours　is　a　very　different　affair。　We　deny　the　snobbish　English　assumption　that　the　uneducated　are　the　dangerous　criminals。　We　remember　the　Roman　Emperors。　We　remember　the　great　poisoning　princes　of　the　Renaissance。　We　say　that　the　dangerous　criminal　is　the　educated　criminal。　We　say　that　the　most　dangerous　criminal　now　is　the　entirely　lawless　modern　philosopher。　Compared　to　him；　burglars　and　bigamists　are　essentially　moral　men；　my　heart　goes　out　to　them。　They　accept　the　essential　ideal　of　man；　they　merely　seek　it　wrongly。　Thieves　respect　property。　They　merely　wish　the　property　to　become　their　property　that　they　may　more　perfectly　respect　it。　But　philosophers　dislike　property　as　property；　they　wish　to　destroy　the　very　idea　of　personal　possession。　Bigamists　respect　marriage；　or　they　would　not　go　through　the　highly　ceremonial　and　even　ritualistic　formality　of　bigamy。　But　philosophers　despise　marriage　as　marriage。　Murderers　respect　human　life；　they　merely　wish　to　attain　a　greater　fulness　of　human　life　in　themselves　by　the　sacrifice　of　what　seems　to　them　to　be　lesser　lives。　But　philosophers　hate　life　itself；　their　own　as　much　as　other　people's。〃

Syme　struck　his　hands　together。

〃How　true　that　is；〃　he　cried。　〃I　have　felt　it　from　my　boyhood；　but　never　could　state　the　verbal　antithesis。　The　common　criminal　is　a　bad　man；　but　at　least　he　is；　as　it　were；　a　conditional　good　man。　He　says　that　if　only　a　certain　obstacle　be　removedsay　a　wealthy　unclehe　is　then　prepared　to　accept　the　universe　and　to　praise　God。　He　is　a　reformer；　but　not　an　anarchist。　He　wishes　to　cleanse　the　edifice；　but　not　to　destroy　it。　But　the　evil　philosopher　is　not　trying　to　alter　things；　but　to　annihilate　them。　Yes；　the　modern　world　has　retained　all　those　parts　of　police　work　which　are　really　oppressive　and　ignominious；　the　harrying　of　the　poor；　the　spying　upon　the　unfortunate。　It　has　given　up　its　more　dignified　work；　the　punishment　of　powerful　traitors　the　in　the　State　and　powerful　heresiarchs　in　the　Church。　The　moderns　say　we　must　not　punish　heretics。　My　only　doubt　is　whether　we　have　a　right　to　punish　anybody　else。〃

〃But　this　is　absurd！〃　cried　the　policeman；　clasping　his　hands　with　an　excitement　uncommon　in　persons　of　his　figure　and　costume；　〃but　it　is　intolerable！　I　don't　know　what　you're　doing；　but　you're　wasting　your　life。　You　must；　you　shall；　join　our　special　army　against　anarchy。　Their　armies　are　on　our　frontiers。　Their　bolt　is　ready　to　fall。　A　moment　more；　and　you　may　lose　the　glory　of　working　with　us；　perhaps　the　glory　of　dying　with　the　last　heroes　of　the　world。〃

〃It　is　a　chance　not　to　be　missed；　certainly；〃　assented　Syme；　〃but　still　I　do　not　quite　understand。　I　know　as　well　as　anybody　that　the　modern　world　is　full　of　lawless　little　men　and　mad　little　movements。　But；　beastly　as　they　are；　they　generally　have　the　one　merit　of　disagreeing　with　each　other。　How　can　you　talk　of　their　leading　one　army　or　hurling　one　bolt。　What　is　this