an unsocial socialist-第16节

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were　improvident；　he　deserved　to　make　a　fortune。〃

〃Granted；　but　he　didn't　make　a　fortune。　He　took　a　fortune　that
others　made。　At　Cambridge　they　taught　me　that　his　profits　were
the　reward　of　abstinencethe　abstinence　which　enabled　him　to
save。　That　quieted　my　conscience　until　I　began　to　wonder　why　one
man　should　make　another　pay　him　for　exercising　one　of　the
virtues。　Then　came　the　question：　what　did　my　father　abstain　from？
The　workmen　abstained　from　meat；　drink；　fresh　air；　good　clothes；
decent　lodging；　holidays；　money；　the　society　of　their　families；
and　pretty　nearly　everything　that　makes　life　worth　living；　which
was　perhaps　the　reason　why　they　usually　died　twenty　years　or　so
sooner　than　people　in　our　circumstances。　Yet　no　one　rewarded　them
for　their　abstinence。　The　reward　came　to　my　father；　who　abstained
from　none　of　these　things；　but　indulged　in　them　all　to　his
heart's　content。　Besides；　if　the　money　was　the　reward　of
abstinence；　it　seemed　logical　to　infer　that　he　must　abstain　ten
times　as　much　when　he　bad　fifty　thousand　a　year　as　when　he　had
only　five　thousand。　Here　was　a　problem　for　my　young　mind。
Required；　something　from　which　my　father　abstained　and　in　which
his　workmen　exceeded；　and　which　he　abstained　from　more　and　more
as　he　grew　richer　and　richer。　The　only　thing　that　answered　this
description　was　hard　work；　and　as　I　never　met　a　sane　man　willing
to　pay　another　for　idling；　I　began　to　see　that　these　prodigious
payments　to　my　father　were　extorted　by　force。　To　do　him　justice；
he　never　boasted　of　abstinence。　He　considered　himself　a
hard…worked　man；　and　claimed　his　fortune　as　the　reward　of　his
risks；　his　calculations；　his　anxieties；　and　the　journeys　he　had
to　make　at　all　seasons　and　at　all　hours。　This　comforted　me
somewhat　until　it　occurred　to　me　that　if　he　had　lived　a　century
earlier；　invested　his　money　in　a　horse　and　a　pair　of　pistols；　and
taken　to　the　road；　his　objectthat　of　wresting　from　others　the
fruits　of　their　labor　without　rendering　them　an　equivalentwould
have　been　exactly　the　same；　and　his　risk　far　greater；　for　it
would　have　included　risk　of　the　gallows。　Constant　travelling　with
the　constable　at　his　heels；　and　calculations　of　the　chances　of
robbing　the　Dover　mail；　would　have　given　him　his　fill　of　activity
and　anxiety。　On　the　whole；　if　Jesse　Trefusis；　M。P。；　who　died　a
millionaire　in　his　palace　at　Kensington；　had　been　a　highwayman；　I
could　not　more　heartily　loathe　the　social　arrangements　that
rendered　such　a　career　as　his　not　only　possible；　but　eminently
creditable　to　himself　in　the　eyes　of　his　fellows。　Most　men　make
it　their　business　to　imitate　him；　hoping　to　become　rich　and　idle
on　the　same　terms。　Therefore　I　turn　my　back　on　them。　I　cannot　sit
at　their　feasts　knowing　how　much　they　cost　in　human　misery；　and
seeing　how　little　they　produce　of　human　happiness。　What　is　your
opinion；　my　treasure？〃

Henrietta　seemed　a　little　troubled。　She　smiled　faintly；　and　said
caressingly；　〃It　was　not　your　fault；　Sidney。　_I_　don't　blame
you。〃

〃Immortal　powers！〃　he　exclaimed；　sitting　bolt　upright　and
appealing　to　the　skies；　〃here　is　a　woman　who　believes　that　the
only　concern　all　this　causes　me　is　whether　she　thinks　any　the
worse　of　me　personally　on　account　of　it！〃

〃No；　no；　Sidney。　It　is　not　I　alone。　Nobody　thinks　the　worse　of
you　for　it。〃

〃Quite　so；〃　he　returned；　in　a　polite　frenzy。　〃Nobody　sees　any
harm　in　it。　That　is　precisely　the　mischief　of　it。〃

〃Besides；〃　she　urged；　〃your　mother　belonged　to　one　of　the　oldest
families　in　England。〃

〃And　what　more　can　man　desire　than　wealth　with　descent　from　a
county　family！　Could　a　man　be　happier　than　I　ought　to　be；　sprung
as　I　am　from　monopolists　of　all　the　sources　and　instruments　of
productionof　land　on　the　one　side；　and　of　machinery　on　the
other？　This　very　ground　on　which　we　are　resting　was　the　property
of　my　mother's　father。　At　least　the　law　allowed　him　to　use　it　as
such。　When　he　was　a　boy；　there　was　a　fairly　prosperous　race　of
peasants　settled　here；　tilling　the　soil；　paying　him　rent　for
permission　to　do　so；　and　making　enough　out　of　it　to　satisfy　his
large　wants　and　their　own　narrow　needs　without　working　themselves
to　death。　But　my　grandfather　was　a　shrewd　man。　He　perceived　that
cows　and　sheep　produced　more　money　by　their　meat　and　wool　than
peasants　by　their　husbandry。　So　he　cleared　the　estate。　That　is；
he　drove　the　peasants　from　their　homes；　as　my　father　did
afterwards　in　his　Scotch　deer　forest。　Or；　as　his　tombstone　has
it；　he　developed　the　resources　of　his　country。　I　don't　know　what
became　of　the　peasants；　HE　didn't　know；　and；　I　presume；　didn't
care。　I　suppose　the　old　ones　went　into　the　workhouse；　and　the
young　ones　crowded　the　towns；　and　worked　for　men　like　my　father
in　factories。　Their　places　were　taken　by　cattle；　which　paid　for
their　food　so　well　that　my　grandfather；　getting　my　father　to　take
shares　in　the　enterprise；　hired　laborers　on　the　Manchester　terms
to　cut　that　canal　for　him。　When　it　was　made；　he　took　toll　upon
it；　and　his　heirs　still　take　toll；　and　the　sons　of　the　navvies
who　dug　it　and　of　the　engineer　who　designed　it　pay　the　toll　when
they　have　occasion　to　travel　by　it；　or　to　purchase　goods　which
have　been　conveyed　along　it。　I　remember　my　grandfather　well。　He
was　a　well…bred　man；　and　a　perfect　gentleman　in　his　manners；　but；
on　the　whole；　I　think　he　was　wickeder　than　my　father；　who；　after
all；　was　caught　in　the　wheels　of　a　vicious　system；　and　had　either
to　spoil　others　or　be　spoiled　by　them。　But　my　grandfatherthe
old　rascal！was　in　no　such　dilemma。　Master　as　he　was　of　his　bit
of　merry　England；　no　man　could　have　enslaved　him；　and　he　might　at
least　have　lived　and　let　live。　My　father　followed　his　example　in
the　matter　of　the　deer　forest；　but　that　was　the　climax　of　his
wickedness；　whereas　it　was　only　the　beginning　of　my
grandfather's。　Howbeit；　whichever　bears　the　palm；　there　they
were；　the　types　after　which　we　all　strive。〃

〃Not　all；　Sidney。　Not　we　two。　I　hate　tradespeople　and　country
squires。　We　belong　to　the　artistic　and　cultured　classes；　and　we
can　keep　aloof　from　shopkeepers。〃

〃Living；　meanwhile；　at　the　rate　of　several　thousand　a　year　on
rent　and　interest。　No；　my　dear；　this　is　the　way　of　those　people
who　insist　that　when　they　are　in　heaven　they　shall　be　spared　the
recollection　of　such　a　place　as　hell；　but　are　quite　content　that
it　shall　exist　outside　their　consciousness。　I　respect　my　father
moreI　mean　I　despise　him　lessfor　doing　his　own　sweating　and
filching　than　I　do　the　sensitive　sluggards　and　cowards　who　lent
him　their　money　to　sweat　and　filch　with；　and　asked　no　questions
provided　the　interest　was　paid　punctually。　And　as　to　your　friends
the　artists；　they　are　the　worst　of　all。〃

〃Oh；　Sidney；　you　are　determined　not　to　be　pleased。　Artists　don't
keep　factories。〃

〃No；　but　the　factory　is　only　a　part　of　the　machinery　of　the
system。　Its　basis　is　the　tyranny　of　brain　force；　which；　among
civilized　men；　is　allowed　to　do　what　muscular　force　does　among
schoolboys　and　savages。　The　schoolboy　proposition　is：　'I　am
stronger　than　you；　therefore　you　shall　fag　for　me。'　Its　grown　up
form　is：　'I　am　cleverer　than　you；　therefore　you　shall　fag　for
me。'　The　state　of　things　we　produce　by　submitting　to　this；　bad
enough　even　at　first；　becomes　intolerable　when　the　mediocre　or
foolish　descendants　of　the　clever　fellows　claim　to　have　inherited
their　privileges。　Now；　no　men　are　greater　sticklers　for　the
arbitrary　dominion　of　genius　and　talent　than　your　artists。　The
great　painter　is　not　satisfied　with　being　sought　after　and
admired　because　his　hands　can　do　more　than　ordinary　hands；　which
they　truly　can；　but　he　wants　to　be　fed　as　if　his　stomach　needed
more　food　than　ordinary　stomachs；　which　it　does　not。　A　day's　work
is　a　day's　work；　neither　more　nor　less；　and　the　man　who　does　it
needs　a　day's　sustenance；　a　night's　repose；　and　due　leisure；
whether　he　be　painter　or　ploughman。　But　the　rascal　of　a　painter；
poet；　novelist；　or　other　voluptuary　in　labor；　is　not　content　with
his　advantage　in　popular　esteem　over　the　ploughman；　he　also　wants
an　advantage　in　money；　as　if　there　were　more　hours　in　a　day　spent
in　the　studio　or　library　than　in　the　field；　or　as　if　he　needed
more　food　to　enable　him　to　do　his　work　than　the　ploughman　to
enable　him　to　do　his。　He　talks　of　the　higher　quality　of　his　work；
as　if　the　higher　quality　of　it　were　of　his　own　makingas　if　it
gave　him　a　right　to　work　less　for　his　neighbor　than　his　neighbor
works　for　himas　if　the　ploughman　could　not　do　better　without
him　than　he　without　the　ploughmanas　if　the　value　of　the　most
celebrated　pictures　has　not　been　questioned　more　than　that　of　any
straight　furrow　in　the　arable　worldas　if　it　did　not　take　an
apprenticeship　of　as　many　years　to　train　the　hand　and　eye　of　a
mason　or　blacksmith　as　of　an　artistas　if；　in　short；　the　fellow
were　a　god；　as　canting　brain　worshippers　have　for　years　past　been
assuring　him　he　is。　Artists　arc　the　high　priests　of　the　modern
Moloch。　Nine　out　of　ten　of　them　are　diseased　creatures；　just　sane
enough　to　trade　on　their　own　neuroses。　The　only　quality　o？theirs
which　extorts　my　respect　is　a　certain　sublime　selfishness　which
makes　them　willing　to　starve　and　to　let　their　families　starve
sooner　than