AN EDDY ON THE FLOOR
PART I
OF POLYHISTOR'S NARRATIVE
WRITTEN FOR, BUT NEVER INSERTED IN, THE ----- FAMILY MAGAZINE
The eyes of Polyhistor--as he sat before the fire at night--took in thetawdry surroundings of his lodging-house room with nothing of that apathyof resignation to his personal [Greek: ananke] which of all moods is toFortune, the goddess of spontaneity, the most antipathetic. Indeed,he felt his wit, like Romeo's, to be of cheveril; and his conviction thatit needed only the pull of circumstance to stretch it "from an inchnarrow to an ell broad" expressed but the very wooing quality of aconstitutional optimism.
Now this inherent optimism is at least a serviceable weapon when it takesthe form of self-reliance. It is always at hand in an emergency--a guardof honour to the soul. The loneliness of individual life must learnself-respect from within, not without; and were all creeds to be mixed,that truism should be found their precipitate.
Therefore Polyhistor was content to draw grass-green rep curtainsacross window-panes sloughed with wintry sleet; to place his feet upon arug flayed of colour to it dusty sinews; to admit to his closefellowship--and find a familiar comfort in them, too--three separatelithographs of affected babies inviting any canine confidences but thebite one desired for them, and a dismal daguerreotype of his landlady'sdeceased husband, slowly perishing in pegtops and a yellow fog ofdespondency, out of which only his boots and a very tall hat frownedinsistent, the tabernacles of enduring respectability:--he was content,because he knew these were only incidents in his career--the slums to befirst traversed on a journey before the rounding breadths of open countrywere reached,--and the station in life he purposed stopping at eventuallywas the terminus of prosperity, intellectual and material.
With no present good fortune but the capacity for desiring it; with theright to affix a letter or so--like grace after skilly--to his name; withthe consciousness that, having overcome theoretical pharmaceuticsmasterfully, he was now combatting practical dispensing slavishly; withfull confidence in his social position (he stood under the shadow of"high connections," like the little winged "Victory" in a conqueror'shand, he chose to think) to help him to eventual distinction, he toastedhis toes that sour winter evening and reviewed in comfort an army ofprospects.
Also his thoughts reverted indulgently to the incidents and experiencesof the previous night.
He had had the pleasure of an invitation to one of those reunions orseances at the house, in a fashionable quarter, of his distantconnection, Lady Barbara Grille, whereat it was his hostess's humourto gather together those many birds of alien feather and incongruoushabit that will flock from the hedgerows to the least little flatteringcrumb of attention. And scarce one of them but thinks the simple feast isspread for him alone. And with so cheap a bait may a title lure.
Lady Barbara, to do her justice, trades upon her position only in so faras it shapes itself the straight road to her desires. She is a carpetadventurer--an explorer amongst the nerves of moral sensation, to whomthe discovery of an untrodden mental tract is a pure delight, and themore delightful the more ephemeral. She flits from guest to guest,shooting out to each a little proboscis, as it were, and happy if itspoint touches a speck of honey. She gathers from all, and stores thesweet agglomerate, let us hope, to feed upon it in the winter of herlife, when the hive of her busy brain shall be thatched with snow.
That reference to so charming a personality should be in this place adigression is Polyhistor's unhappiness. She affects his narrative onlyinasmuch as he happened to meet at her house a gentleman who for a timeexerted a considerable influence over his fortunes.
* * * * *
Here Polyhistor's narrative must give place to certain editorialmarginalia by Miss Lucy ----, who "runs" the ---- Family Magazine:--
"Polyhistor, indeed!" she writes. "The conceit of some people! He seemsto take himself for a sort of _Admirable Crichton_, and all because hischance meeting with the gentleman referred to (a very _interesting_person, who is, I understand, reforming our prisons) brought him theoffer of an appointment quite beyond his deserts. I was very glad to hearof it, however, and I asked the creature to contribute a paper recordinghis first impressions of _this notable man_; instead of which he beginswith an opinionated rigmarole about himself, and goes on from bad toworse by describing a long conversation he had about prison reform withthat horrid, masculine Mrs. C----, whom all the officers call 'Charlie,'and who thinks that for men to grow humane is a sign of their_decadence_. _Of course_ I shall 'cut' the whole of their talk together(it is a blessed privilege to be an editor), and jump to the part where_Polyhistor_ (!) describes the _notable person's_ visit to him, which wasdue to his (the N.P.'s) having the night before overheard some of theconversation _between those two_."
* * * * *
POLYHISTOR'S NARRATIVE (_continued_).
Now as Polyhistor sat, he humoured his recollection (in the intervals ofscribbling verses to the _beaux yeux_ of a certain Miss L----) with someof "Charlie's" characteristic last-night utterances.
She had dated man's decadence from the moment when he began to"poor-fellow" irreclaimable savagery on the score of heredity.
She had repudiated the old humbug of sex superiority because she had seenit fall on its face to howl over a trodden worm, with the result thatit discovered itself hollow behind, like the elf-maiden.
She had said: "Once you taught us divinely--_argumentum baculinum_," saidshe; "(for you are the sons of God, you know). But you have since soinsisted upon the Rights of Humanity that we have learned ourselves inthe phrase, and that the earthy have the best right to precedence on theearth."
And thereupon Charlie had launched into abuse of what she called thelatest masculine fad--prison reform, to wit--and a heated discussionbetween her and Polyhistor had ensued, in the midst of which she hadhappened to glance behind her, to find that very notable person who isthe subject of this narrative vouchsafing a silent attention to herdiatribe. And then--
But at this period to his cogitations Polyhistor's landlady entered witha card, which she presented to his consideration:--
MAJOR JAMES SHRIKE,H.M. PRISON, D----.
All astonishment, Polyhistor bade his visitor up.
He entered briskly, fur-collared, hat in hand, and bowed as he stood onthe threshold. He was a very short man--snub-nosed; rusty-whiskered;indubitably and unimpressively a cockney in appearance. He might havewalked out of a Cruikshank etching.
Polyhistor was beginning, "May I inquire--" when the other took him upwith a vehement frankness that he found engaging at once.
"This is a great intrusion. Will you pardon me? I heard some remarks ofyours last night that deeply interested me. I obtained your name andaddress of our hostess, and took the liberty of--"
"Oh! pray be seated. Say no more. My kinswoman's introduction isall-sufficient. I am happy in having caught your attention in so motleya crowd."
"She doesn't--forgive the impertinence--take herself seriously enough."
"Lady Barbara? Then you've found her out?"
"Ah!--you're not offended?"
"Not in the least."
"Good. It was a motley assemblage, as you say. Yet I'm inclined to thinkI found my pearl in the oyster. I'm afraid I interrupted--eh?"
"No, no, not at all. Only some idle scribbling. I'd finished."
"You are a poet?"
"Only a lunatic. I haven't taken my degree."
"Ah! it's a noble gift--the gift of song; precious through its rarity."
Polyhistor caught a note of emotion in his visitor's voice, and glancedat him curiously.
"Surely," he thought, "that vulgar, ruddy little face is transfigured."
"But," said the stranger, coming to earth, "I am lingering beside themark. I must try to justify my solecism in manners by a straightreference to the object of my visit. That is, in the first instance, amatter of business."
"Business!"
"I am a man with a purpose, seeking the hopefullest means to anend. Plainly: if I could procure you the post of resident doctor atD---- gaol, would you be disposed to accept it?"
Polyhistor looked his utter astonishment.
"I can affect no surprise at yours," said the visitor, attentivelyregarding Polyhistor. "It is perfectly natural. Let me forestall someunnecessary expression of it. My offer seems unaccountable to you, seeingthat we never met until last night. But I don't move entirely in thedark. I have ventured in the interval to inform myself as to the detailsof your career. I was entirely one with much of your expression ofopinion as to the treatment of criminals, in which you controverted thecrude and unpleasant scepticism of the lady you talked with." (Poor NewCharlie!) "Combining the two, I come to the immediate conclusion that youare the man for my purpose."
"You have dumbfounded me. I don't know what to answer. You have views, Iknow, as to prison treatment. Will you sketch them? Will you talk on,while I try to bring my scattered wits to a focus?"
"Certainly I will. Let me, in the first instance, recall to you a fewwords of your own. They ran somewhat in this fashion: Is not the man ofpractical genius the man who is most apt at solving the little problemsof resourcefulness in life? Do you remember them?"
"Perhaps I do, in a cruder form."
"They attracted me at once. It is upon such a postulate I base mypractice. Their moral is this: To know the antidote the moment the snakebites. That is to have the intuition of divinity. We shall rise to itsome day, no doubt, and climb the hither side of the new Olympus. Whoknows? Over the crest the spirit of creation may be ours."
Polyhistor nodded, still at sea, and the other went on with a smile:--
"I once knew a world-famous engineer with whom I used to breakfastoccasionally. He had a patent egg-boiler on the table, with a littledouble-sided ladle underneath to hold the spirit. He complained that hisegg was always undercooked. I said, 'Why not reverse the ladle so asto bring the deeper cup uppermost?' He was charmed with my perspicacity.The solution had never occurred to him. You remember, too, no doubt, thestory of Coleridge and the horse collar. We aim too much at greatdevelopments. If we cultivate resourcefulness, the rest will follow.Shall I state my system _in nuce_? It is to encourage this spirit ofresourcefulness."
"Surely the habitual criminal has it in a marked degree?"
"Yes; but abnormally developed in a single direction. His one object isto out-manoeuvre in a game of desperate and immoral chances. The tacticalspirit in him has none of the higher ambition. It has felt itself in thedegree only that stops at defiance."
"That is perfectly true."
"It is half self-conscious of an individuality that instinctively assumesthe hopelessness of a recognition by duller intellects. Leaning toresentment through misguided vanity, it falls 'all oblique.' What is thecure for this? I answer, the teaching of a divine egotism. The subjectmust be led to a pure devotion to self. What he wishes to respect he mustbe taught to make beautiful and interesting. The policy of sacrifice toothers has so long stunted his moral nature because it is an hypocriticalpolicy. We are responsible to ourselves in the first instance; and toargue an eternal system of blind self-sacrifice is to undervalue thefine gift of individuality. In such he sees but an indefensible policyof force applied to the advantage of the community. He is told to begood--not that he may morally profit, but that others may not sufferinconvenience."
Polyhistor was beginning to grasp, through his confusion, a certain clueof meaning in his visitor's rapid utterance. The stranger spoke fluently,but in the dry, positive voice that characterizes men of will.
"Pray go on," Polyhistor said; "I am digesting in silence."
"We must endeavour to lead him to respect of self by showing him what hismind is capable of. I argue on no sectarian, no religious grounds even.Is it possible to make a man's self his most precious possession? Anyhow,I work to that end. A doctor purges before building up with a tonic. Ieliminate cant and hypocrisy, and then introduce self-respect. It isn'tenough to employ a man's hands only. Initiation in some labour thatshould prove wholesome and remunerative is a redeeming factor, but itisn't all. His mind must work also, and awaken to its capacities. If itrusts, the body reverts to inhuman instincts."
"May I ask how you--?"
"By intercourse--in my own person or through my officials. I wish to haveonly those about me who are willing to contribute to my designs, andwith whom I can work in absolute harmony. All my officers are chosen tothat end. No doubt a dash of constitutional sentimentalism gives colourto my theories. I get it from a human tract in me that circumstances haveobliged me to put a hoarding round."
"I begin to gather daylight."
"Quite so. My patients are invited to exchange views with their guardiansin a spirit of perfect friendliness; to solve little problems ofpractical moment; to acquire the pride of self-reliance. We havecompetitions, such as certain newspapers open to their readers, in asimple form. I draw up the questions myself. The answers give me insightinto the mental conditions of the competitors. Upon insight I proceed. Iam fortunate in private means, and I am in a position to offer modestprizes to the winners. Whenever such an one is discharged, he findsawaiting him the tools most handy to his vocation. I bid him go forthin no pharisaical spirit, and invite him to communicate with me. I wishthe shadow of the gaol to extend no further than the road whereon itlies. Henceforth, we are acquaintances with a common interest at heart.Isn't it monstrous that a state-fixed degree of misconduct should earn aman social ostracism? Parents are generally inclined to rule extratenderness towards a child whose peccadilloes have brought him awhipping. For myself, I have no faith in police supervision. Give aculprit his term and have done with it. I find the majority who come backto me are ticket-of-leave men.
"Have I said enough? I offer you the reversion of the post. The presentholder of it leaves in a month's time. Please to determine here and atonce."
"Very good. I have decided."
"You will accept?"
"Yes."
* * * * *
So far wrote Polyhistor in the bonny days of early manhood--an attemptmade in a spasm of enthusiasm inspired in him and humoured by his mostengaging Mentor, to record his first impressions of a notable personalitynot many days after its introduction to him. He has never taken up thetale again until now, when an insistent sense, as of a task leftunfinished, compels him to the effort. Over his sweet Mentor the grasslies thick, and flowers of aged stalk bloom perennially, and "Oh, thedifference to me!"
To _me_, for it is time to drop the poor conceit, the pseudonym that onceserved its little purpose to awaken tender derision.
I take up the old and stained manuscript, with its marginalia, that arelike the dim call from a far-away voice, and I know that, so I am drivento record the sequel to that gay introduction, it must be in a spirit ofsombreness most deadly by contrast. I look at the faded opening words.The fire of the first line of the narrative is long out; the grate iscold some forty years--forty years!--and I think I have been a littlechill during all that time. But, though the room rustle with phantoms andmenace stalk in the retrospect, I shall acquit my conscience of itsburden, refusing to be bullied by the counsel of a destiny thatsubpoena'd me entirely against my will.
At a Winter's Fire Page 11
