robert falconer-第104节
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The man's only answer was a shake that made the woman cry out。
'I shall get into trouble if you get off;' said Falconer to her。
'Will you promise me; on your word; to go with me to the station; if
I rid you of the fellow?'
'I will; I will;' said the woman。
'Then; look out;' said Falconer to the policeman; 'for I'm going to
give you that lesson。'
The officer let the woman go; took his baton; and made a blow at
Falconer。 In another momentI could hardly see howhe lay in the
street。
'Now; my poor woman; come along;' said Falconer。
She obeyed; crying gently。 Two other policemen came up。
'Do you want to give that woman in charge; Mr。 Falconer?' asked one
of them。
'I give that man in charge;' cried his late antagonist; who had just
scrambled to his feet。 'Assaulting the police in discharge of their
duty。'
'Very well;' said the other。 'But you're in the wrong box; and that
you'll find。 You had better come along to the station; sir。'
'Keep that fellow from getting hold of the womanyou two; and we'll
go together;' said Falconer。
Bewildered with the rapid sequence of events; I was following in the
crowd。 Falconer looked about till he saw me; and gave me a nod
which meant come along。 Before we reached Bow Street。 however; the
offending policeman; who had been walking a little behind in
conversation with one of the others; advanced to Falconer; touched
his hat; and said something; to which Falconer replied。
'Remember; I have my eye upon you;' was all I heard; however; as he
left the crowd and rejoined me。 We turned and walked eastward
again。
The storm kept on intermittently; but the streets were rather more
crowded than usual notwithstanding。
'Look at that man in the woollen jacket;' said Falconer。 'What a
beautiful outline of face! There must be something noble in that
man。'
'I did not see him;' I answered; 'I was taken up with a woman's
face; like that of a beautiful corpse。 It's eyes were bright。
There was gin in its brain。'
The streets swarmed with human faces gleaming past。 It was a night
of ghosts。
There stood a man who had lost one arm; earnestly pumping
bilge…music out of an accordion with the other; holding it to his
body with the stump。 There was a woman; pale with hunger and gin;
three match…boxes in one extended hand; and the other holding a baby
to her breast。 As we looked; the poor baby let go its hold; turned
its little head; and smiled a wan; shrivelled; old…fashioned smile
in our faces。
Another happy baby; you see; Mr。 Gordon;' said Falconer。 'A child;
fresh from God; finds its heaven where no one else would。 The devil
could drive woman out of Paradise; but the devil himself cannot
drive the Paradise out of a woman。'
'What can be done for them?' I said; and at the moment; my eye fell
upon a row of little children; from two to five years of age; seated
upon the curb…stone。
They were chattering fast; and apparently carrying on some game; as
happy as if they had been in the fields。
'Wouldn't you like to take all those little grubby things; and put
them in a great tub and wash them clean?' I said。
'They'd fight like spiders;' rejoined Falconer。
'They're not fighting now。'
'Then don't make them。 It would be all useless。 The probability is
that you would only change the forms of the various evils; and
possibly for worse。 You would buy all that man's glue…lizards; and
that man's three…foot rules; and that man's dog…collars and chains;
at three times their value; that they might get more drink than
usual; and do nothing at all for their living to…morrow。What a
happy London you would make if you were Sultan Haroun!' he added;
laughing。 'You would put an end to poverty altogether; would you
not?'
I did not reply at once。
'But I beg your pardon;' he resumed; 'I am very rude。'
'Not at all;' I returned。 'I was only thinking how to answer you。
They would be no worse after all than those who inherit property
and lead idle lives。'
'True; but they would be no better。 Would you be content that your
quondam poor should be no better off than the rich? What would be
gained thereby? Is there no truth in the words 〃Blessed are the
poor〃? A deeper truth than most Christians dare to see。Did you
ever observe that there is not one word about the vices of the poor
in the Biblefrom beginning to end?'
'But they have their vices。'
'Indubitably。 I am only stating a fact。 The Bible is full enough
of the vices of the rich。 I make no comment。'
'But don't you care for their sufferings?'
'They are of secondary importance quite。 But if you had been as
much amongst them as I; perhaps you would be of my opinion; that the
poor are not; cannot possibly feel so wretched as they seem to us。
They live in a climate; as it were; which is their own; by natural
law comply with it; and find it not altogether unfriendly。 The
Laplander will prefer his wastes to the rich fields of England; not
merely from ignorance; but for the sake of certain blessings amongst
which he has been born and brought up。 The blessedness of life
depends far more on its interest than upon its comfort。 The need of
exertion and the doubt of success; renders life much more
interesting to the poor than it is to those who; unblessed with
anxiety for the bread that perisheth; waste their poor hearts about
rank and reputation。'
'I thought such anxiety was represented as an evil in the New
Testament。'
'Yes。 But it is a still greater evil to lose it in any other way
than by faith in God。 You would remove the anxiety by destroying its
cause: God would remove it by lifting them above it; by teaching
them to trust in him; and thus making them partakers of the divine
nature。 Poverty is a blessing when it makes a man look up。'
'But you cannot say it does so always。'
'I cannot determine when; where; and how much; but I am sure it
does。 And I am confident that to free those hearts from it by any
deed of yours would be to do them the greatest injury you could。
Probably their want of foresight would prove the natural remedy;
speedily reducing them to their former conditionnot however
without serious loss。'
'But will not this theory prove at last an an?sthetic rather than an
anodyne? I mean that; although you may adopt it at first for refuge
from the misery the sight of their condition occasions you; there is
surely a danger of its rendering you at last indifferent to it。'
'Am I indifferent? But you do not know me yet。 Pardon my egotism。
There may be such danger。 Every truth has its own danger or
shadow。 Assuredly I would have no less labour spent upon them。 But
there can be no true labour done; save in as far as we are
fellow…labourers with God。 We must work with him; not against him。
Every one who works without believing that God is doing the best;
the absolute good for them; is; must be; more or less; thwarting
God。 He would take the poor out of God's hands。 For others; as for
ourselves; we must trust him。 If we could thoroughly understand
anything; that would be enough to prove it undivine; and that which
is but one step beyond our understanding must be in some of its
relations as mysterious as if it were a hundred。 But through all
this darkness about the poor; at least I can see wonderful veins and
fields of light; and with the help of this partial vision; I trust
for the rest。 The only and the greatest thing man is capable of is
Trust in God。'
'What then is a man to do for the poor? How is he to work with
God?' I asked。
'He must be a man amongst thema man breathing the air of a higher
life; and therefore in all natural ways fulfilling his endless human
relations to them。 Whatever you do for them; let your own being;
that is you in relation to them; be the background; that so you may
be a link between them and God; or rather I should say; between them
and the knowledge of God。'
While Falconer spoke; his face grew grander and grander; till at
last it absolutely shone。 I felt that I walked with a man whose
faith was his genius。
'Of one thing I am pretty sure;' he resumed; 'that the same recipe
Goethe gave for the enjoyment of life; applies equally to all work:
〃Do the thing that lies next you。〃 That is all our business。
Hurried results are worse than none。 We must force nothing; but be
partakers of the divine patience。 How long it took to make the
cradle! and we fret that the baby Humanity is not reading Euclid and
Plato; even that it is not understanding the Gospel of St。 John! If
there is one thing evident in the world's history; it is that God
hasteneth not。 All haste implies weakness。 Time is as cheap as
space and matter。 What they call the church militant is only at
drill yet; and a good many of the officers too not out of the
awkward squad。 I am su