the ragged trousered philanthropists-第116章

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These　Socialists　held　quite　a　lot　of　informal　meetings　on　their　own。　Every　now　and　then　when　they　were　giving　their　leaflets　away；　some　unwary　supporter　of　the　capitalist　system　would　start　an　argument；　and　soon　a　crowd　would　gather　round　and　listen。

Sometimes　the　Socialists　succeeded　in　arguing　their　opponents　to　an　absolute　standstill；　for　the　Liberals　and　Tones　found　it　impossible　to　deny　that　machinery　is　the　cause　of　the　overcrowded　state　of　the　labour　market；　that　the　overcrowded　labour　market　is　the　cause　of　unemployment；　that　the　fact　of　there　being　always　an　army　of　unemployed　waiting　to　take　other　men's　jobs　away　from　them　destroys　the　independence　of　those　who　are　in　employment　and　keeps　them　in　subjection　to　their　masters。　　They　found　it　impossible　to　deny　that　this　machinery　is　being　used；　not　for　the　benefit　of　all；　but　to　make　fortunes　for　a　few。　　In　short；　they　were　unable　to　disprove　that　the　monopoly　of　the　land　and　machinery　by　a　comparatively　few　persons；　is　the　cause　of　the　poverty　of　the　majority。　　But　when　these　arguments　that　they　were　unable　to　answer　were　put　before　them　and　when　it　was　pointed　out　that　the　only　possible　remedy　was　the　Public　Ownership　and　Management　of　the　Means　of　production；　they　remained　angrily　silent；　having　no　alternative　plan　to　suggest。

At　other　times　the　meeting　resolved　itself　into　a　number　of　quarrelsome　disputes　between　the　Liberals　and　Tories　that　formed　the　crowd；　which　split　itself　up　into　a　lot　of　little　groups　and　whatever　the　original　subject　might　have　been　they　soon　drifted　to　a　hundred　other　things；　for　most　of　the　supporters　of　the　present　system　seemed　incapable　of　pursuing　any　one　subject　to　its　logical　conclusion。　　A　discussion　would　be　started　about　something　or　other；　presently　an　unimportant　side　issue　would　crop　up；　then　the　original　subject　would　be　left　unfinished；　and　they　would　argue　and　shout　about　the　side　issue。　　In　a　little　while　another　side　issue　would　arise；　and　then　the　first　side　issue　would　be　abandoned　also　unfinished；　and　an　angry　wrangle　about　the　second　issue　would　ensue；　the　original　subject　being　altogether　forgotten。

They　did　not　seem　to　really　desire　to　discover　the　truth　or　to　find　out　the　best　way　to　bring　about　an　improvement　in　their　condition；　their　only　object　seemed　to　be　to　score　off　their　opponents。

Usually　after　one　of　these　arguments；　Owen　would　wander　off　by　himself；　with　his　head　throbbing　and　a　feeling　of　unutterable　depression　and　misery　at　his　heart；　weighed　down　by　a　growing　conviction　of　the　hopelessness　of　everything；　of　the　folly　of　expecting　that　his　fellow　workmen　would　ever　be　willing　to　try　to　understand　for　themselves　the　causes　that　produced　their　sufferings。　It　was　not　that　those　causes　were　so　obscure　that　it　required　exceptional　intelligence　to　perceive　them；　the　causes　of　all　the　misery　were　so　apparent　that　a　little　child　could　easily　be　made　to　understand　both　the　disease　and　the　remedy；　but　it　seemed　to　him　that　the　majority　of　his　fellow　workmen　had　become　so　convinced　of　their　own　intellectual　inferiority　that　they　did　not　dare　to　rely　on　their　own　intelligence　to　guide　them；　preferring　to　resign　the　management　of　their　affairs　unreservedly　into　the　hands　of　those　who　battened　upon　and　robbed　them。　　They　did　not　know　the　causes　of　the　poverty　that　perpetually　held　them　and　their　children　in　its　cruel　grip；　and　…　they　did　not　want　to　know！　　And　if　one　explained　those　causes　to　them　in　such　language　and　in　such　a　manner　that　they　were　almost　compelled　to　understand；　and　afterwards　pointed　out　to　them　the　obvious　remedy；　they　were　neither　glad　nor　responsive；　but　remained　silent　and　were　angry　because　they　found　themselves　unable　to　answer　and　disprove。

They　remained　silent；　afraid　to　trust　their　own　intelligence；　and　the　reason　of　this　attitude　was　that　they　had　to　choose　between　the　evidence　and　their　own　intelligence；　and　the　stories　told　them　by　their　masters　and　exploiters。　　And　when　it　came　to　making　this　choice　they　deemed　it　safer　to　follow　their　old　guides；　than　to　rely　on　their　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　dispo