the ragged trousered philanthropists-第142部分

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r　own　judgement；　because　from　their　very　infancy　they　had　had　drilled　into　them　the　doctrine　of　their　own　mental　and　social　inferiority；　and　their　conviction　of　the　truth　of　this　doctrine　was　voiced　in　the　degraded　expression　that　fell　so　frequently　from　their　lips；　when　speaking　of　themselves　and　each　other　…　‘The　Likes　of　Us！'

They　did　not　know　the　causes　of　their　poverty；　they　did　not　want　to　know；　they　did　not　want　to　hear。

All　they　desired　was　to　be　left　alone　so　that　they　might　continue　to　worship　and　follow　those　who　took　advantage　of　their　simplicity；　and　robbed　them　of　the　fruits　of　their　toil；　their　old　leaders；　the　fools　or　scoundrels　who　fed　them　with　words；　who　had　led　them　into　the　desolation　where　they　now　seemed　to　be　content　to　grind　out　treasure　for　their　masters；　and　to　starve　when　those　masters　did　not　find　it　profitable　to　employ　them。　　It　was　as　if　a　flock　of　foolish　sheep　placed　themselves　under　the　protection　of　a　pack　of　ravening　wolves。

Several　times　the　small　band　of　Socialists　narrowly　escaped　being　mobbed；　but　they　succeeded　in　disposing　of　most　of　their　leaflets　without　any　serious　trouble。　　Towards　the　latter　part　of　one　evening　Barrington　and　Owen　became　separated　from　the　others；　and　shortly　afterwards　these　two　lost　each　other　in　the　crush。

About　nine　o'clock；　Barrington　was　in　a　large　Liberal　crowd；　listening　to　the　same　hired　orator　who　had　spoken　a　few　evenings　before　on　the　hill　…　the　man　with　the　scar　on　his　forehead。　　The　crowd　was　applauding　him　loudly　and　Barrington　again　fell　to　wondering　where　he　had　seen　this　man　before。　　As　on　the　previous　occasion；　this　speaker　made　no　reference　to　Socialism；　confining　himself　to　other　matters。　Barrington　examined　him　closely；　trying　to　recall　under　what　circumstances　they　had　met　previously；　and　presently　he　remembered　that　this　was　one　of　the　Socialists　who　had　come　with　the　band　of　cyclists　into　the　town　that　Sunday　morning；　away　back　at　the　beginning　of　the　summer；　the　man　who　had　come　afterwards　with　the　van；　and　who　had　been　struck　down　by　a　stone　while　attempting　to　speak　from　the　platform　of　the　van；　the　man　who　had　been　nearly　killed　by　the　upholders　of　the　capitalist　system。　　It　was　the　same　man！　　The　Socialist　had　been　clean…shaven　…　this　man　wore　beard　and　moustache　…　but　Barrington　was　certain　he　was　the　same。

When　the　man　had　concluded　his　speech　he　got　down　and　stood　in　the　shade　behind　the　platform；　while　someone　else　addressed　the　meeting；　and　Barrington　went　round　to　where　he　was　standing；　intending　to　speak　to　him。

All　around　them；　pandemonium　reigned　supreme。　　They　were　in　the　vicinity　of　the　Slave　Market；　near　the　Fountain；　on　the　Grand　Parade；　where　several　roads　met；　there　was　a　meeting　going　on　at　every　corner；　and　a　number　of　others　in　different；　parts　of　the　roadway　and　on　the　pavement　of　the　Parade。　Some　of　these　meetings　were　being　carried　on　by　two　or　three　men；　who　spoke　in　turn　from　small；　portable　platforms　they　carried　with　them；　and　placed　wherever　they　thought　there　was　a　chance　of　getting　an　audience。

Every　now　and　then　some　of　these　poor　wretches　…　they　were　all　paid　speakers　…　were　surrounded　and　savagely　mauled　and　beaten　by　a　hostile　crowd。　　If　they　were　Tariff　Reformers　the　Liberals　mobbed　them；　and　vice　versa。　　Lines　of　rowdies　swaggered　to　and　fro；　arm　in　arm；　singing；　‘Vote；　Vote；　Vote；　for　good　ole　Closeland'　or　‘good　ole　Sweater'；　according　as　they　were　green　or　blue　and　yellow。　　Gangs　of　hooligans　paraded　up　and　down；　armed　with　sticks；　singing；　howling；　cursing　and　looking　for　someone　to　hit。　　Others　stood　in　groups　on　the　pavement　with　their　hands　thrust　in　their　pockets；　or　leaned　against　walls　or　the　shutters　of　the　shops　with　expressions　of　ecstatic　imbecility　on　their　faces；　chanting　the　mournful　dirge　to　the　tune　of　the　church　chimes；

　　　　　　　　‘Good　…　ole　…　Sweat　…　er　　　　　　　　　Good　…　ole　…　Sweat　…　er　　　　　　　　　Good　…　ole　…　Sweat　…　er　　　　　　　　　Good　…　ole　…　Sweat　…　er。'

Other　groups　…　to　the　same　tune　…　sang　‘Good　…　ole　…　Close　…　land'；　and　every　now　and　again　they　used　to　leave　off　singing　and　begin　to　beat　each　other。　　Fights　used　to　take　place；　often　between　workmen；　about　the　respective　merits　of　Adam　Sweater　and　Sir　Graball　D'Encloseland。

The　walls　were　covered　with　huge　Liberal　and　Tory　posters；　which　showed　in　every　line　the　contempt　of　those　who　published　them　for　the　intelligence　of　the　working　men　to　whom　they　were　addressed。　　There　was　one　Tory　poster　that　represented　the　interior　of　a　public　house；　in　front　of　the　bar；　with　a　quart　pot　in　his　hand；　a　clay　pipe　in　his　mouth；　and　a　load　of　tools　on　his　back；　stood　a　degraded…looking　brute　who　represented　the　Tory　ideal　of　what　an　Englishman　should　be；　the　letterpress　on　the　poster　said　it　was　a　man！　　This　is　the　ideal　of　manhood　that　they　hold　up　to　the　majority　of　their　fellow　countrymen；　but　privately　…　amongst　themselves　…　the　Tory　aristocrats　regard　such　‘men'　with　far　less　respect　than　they　do　the　lower　animals。　　Horses　or　dogs；　for　instance。

The　Liberal　posters　were　not　quite　so　offensive。　　They　were　more　cunning；　more　specious；　more　hypocritical　and　consequently　more　calculated　to　mislead　and　deceive　the　more　intelligent　of　the　voters。

When　Barrington　got　round　to　the　back　of　the　platform；　he　found　the　man　with　the　scarred　face　standing　alone　and　gloomily　silent　in　the　shadow。　　Barrington　gave　him　one　of　the　Socialist　leaflets；　which　he　took；　and　after　glancing　at　it；　put　it　in　his　coat　pocket　without　making　any　remark。

‘I　hope　you'll　excuse　me　for　asking；　but　were　you　not　formerly　a　Socialist？'　said　Barrington。

Even　in　the　semi…darkness　Barrington　saw　the　other　man　flush　deeply　and　then　become　very　pale；　and　the　unsightly　scar　upon　his　forehead　showed　with　ghastly　distinctiveness。

‘I　am　still　a　Socialist：　no　man　who　has　once　been　a　Socialist　can　ever　cease　to　be　one。'

‘You　seem　to　have　accomplished　that　impossibility；　to　judge　by　the　work　you　are　at　present　engaged　in。　　You　must　have　changed　your　opinions　since　you　were　here　last。'

‘No　one　who　has　been　a　Socialist　can　ever　cease　to　be　one。　　It　is　impossible　for　a　man　who　has　once　acquired　knowledge　ever　to　relinquish　it。　　A　Socialist　is　one　who　understands　the　causes　of　the　misery　and　degradation　we　see　all　around　us；　who　knows　the　only　remedy；　and　knows　that　that　remedy　…　the　state　of　society　that　will　be　called　Socialism　…　must　eventually　be　adopted；　is　the　only　alternative　to　the　extermination　of　the　majority　of　the　working　people；　but　it　does　not　follow　that　everyone　who　has　sense　enough　to　acquire　that　amount　of　knowledge；　must；　in　addition；　be　willing　to　sacrifice　himself　in　order　to　help　to　bring　that　state　of　society　into　being。　When　I　first　acquired　that　knowledge；'　he　continued；　bitterly；　‘I　was　eager　to　tell　the　good　news　to　others。　　I　sacrificed　my　time；　my　money；　and　my　health　in　order　that　I　might　teach　others　what　I　had　learned　myself。　　I　did　it　willingly　and　happily；　because　I　thought　they　would　be　glad　to　hear；　and　that　they　were　worth　the　sacrifices　I　made　for　their　sakes。　　But　I　know　better　now。'

‘Even　if　you　no　longer　believe　in　working　for　Socialism；　there's　no　need　to　work　AGAINST　it。　　If　you　are　not　disposed　to　sacrifice　yourself　in　order　to　do　good　to　others；　you　might　at　least　refrain　from　doing　evil。　　If　you　don't　want　to　help　to　bring　about　a　better　state　of　affairs；　there's　no　reason　why　you　should　help　to　perpetuate　the　present　system。'

The　other　man　laughed　bitterly。　　‘Oh　yes；　there　is；　and　a　very　good　reason　too。'

‘I　don't　think　you　could　show　me　a　reason；'　said　Barrington。

The　man　with　the　scar　laughed　again；　the　same　unpleasant；　mirthless　laugh；　and　thrusting　his　hand　into　his　trouser　pocket　drew　it　out　again　full　of　silver　coins；　amongst　which　one　or　two　gold　pieces　glittered。

‘That　is　my　reason。　　When　I　devoted　my　life　and　what　abilities　I　possess　to　the　service　of　my　fellow　workmen；　when　I　sought　to　teach　them　how　to　break　their　chains；　when　I　tried　to　show　them　how　they　might　save　their　children　from　poverty　and　shameful　servitude；　I　did　not　want　them　to　give　me　money。　　I　did　it　for　love。　　And　they　paid　me　with　hatred　and　injury。　　But　since　I　have　been　helping　their　masters　to　rob　them；　they　have　treated　me　with　respect。'

Barrington　made　no　reply　and　the　other　man；　having　returned　the　money　to　his　pocket；　indicated　the　crowd　with　a　sweep　of　his　hand。

‘Look　at　them！'　he　continued　with　a　contemptuous　laugh。　　‘Look　at　them！　the　people　you　are　trying　to　make　idealists　of！　　Look　at　them！　Some　of　them　howling　and　roaring　like　wild　beasts；　or　laughing　like　idiots；　others　standing　with　dull　and　stupid　faces　devoid　of　any　trace　of　intelligence　or　expression；　listening　to　the　speakers　whose　words　convey　no　meaning　to　their　stultified　minds；　and　others　with　their　eyes　gleaming　with　savage　hatred　of　their　fellow　men；　watching　eagerly　for　an　opportunity　to　provoke　a　quarrel　that　they　may　gratify　their　brutal　natures　by　striking　someone　…　their　eyes　are　hungry　for　the　sight　of　blood！　　Can't　you　see　that　these　people；　whom　you　are　trying　to　make　understand　your　plan　for　the　regeneration　of　the　world；　your　doctrine　of　universal　brotherhood　and　love　are　for　the　most　part　…　intellectually　…　on　level　with　H