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第34章 CHAPTER X WROUGHT IRON AND GOLD (2)

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       Hale the magnificent power, yet delicate adjustment of the might of thesteam-hammer, which was recalling to Mr. Hale some of the wonderfulstories of subservient genii in the Arabian Nights--one momentstretching from earth to sky and filling all the width of the horizon, atthe next obediently compressed into a vase small enough to be borne inthe hand of a child.
     
       \"And this imagination of power, this practical realisation of a giganticthought, came out of one man\"s brain in our good town. That very manhas it within him to mount, step by step, on each wonder he achieves tohigher marvels still. And I\"ll be bound to say, we have many among uswho, if he were gone, could spring into the breach and carry on the warwhich compels, and shall compel, all material power to yield toscience.\"
     
       \"Your boast reminds me of the old lines-
     
       \"I\"ve a hundred captains in England,\" he said,\"As good as ever was he.\"\"
     
       At her father\"s quotation Margaret looked suddenly up, with inquiringwonder in her eyes. How in the world had they got from cog-wheels toChevy Chace?
     
       \"It is no boast of mine,\" replied Mr. Thornton; \"it is plain matter-of-fact. Iwon\"t deny that I am proud of belonging to a town--or perhaps I shouldrather say a district--the necessities of which give birth to such grandeurof conception. I would rather be a man toiling, suffering--nay, failingand successless--here, than lead a dull prosperous life in the old worngrooves of what you call more aristocratic society down in the South,with their slow days of careless ease. One may be clogged with honeyand unable to rise and fly.\"
     
       \"You are mistaken,\" said Margaret, roused by the aspersion on herbeloved South to a fond vehemence of defence, that brought the colourinto her cheeks and the angry tears into her eyes. \"You do not knowanything about the South. If there is less adventure or less progress--Isuppose I must not say less excitement--from the gambling spirit oftrade, which seems requisite to force out these wonderful inventions,there is less suffering also. I see men h ere going about in the streetswho look ground down by some pinching sorrow or care--who are notonly sufferers but haters. Now, in the South we have our poor, but thereis not that terrible expression in their countenances of a sullen sense ofinjustice which I see here. You do not know the South, Mr. Thornton,\"
     
       she concluded, collapsing into a determined silence, and angry withherself for having said so much.
     
       \"And may I say you do not know the North?\" asked he, with aninexpressible gentleness in his tone, as he saw that he had really hurther. She continued resolutely silent; yearning after the lovely haunts shehad left far away in Hampshire, with a passionate longing that made herfeel her voice would be unsteady and trembling if she spoke.
     
       \"At any rate, Mr. Thornton,\" said Mrs. Hale, \"you will allow that Miltonis a much more smoky, dirty town than you will ever meet with in theSouth.\"
     
       \"I\"m afraid I must give up its cleanliness,\" said Mr. Thornton, with thequick gleaming smile. \"But we are bidden by parliament to burn ourown smoke; so I suppose, like good little children, we shall do as we arebid--some time.\"
     
       \"But I think you told me you had altered your chimneys so as toconsume the smoke, did you not?\" asked Mr. Hale.
     
       \"Mine were altered by my own will, before parliament meddled with theaffair. It was an immediate outlay, but it repays me in the saving ofcoal. I\"m not sure whether I should have done it, if I had waited until the
     
       act was passed. At any rate, I should have waited to be informed againstand fined, and given all the trouble in yielding that I legally could. Butall laws which depend for their enforcement upon informers and fines,become inert from the odiousness of the machinery. I doubt if there hasbeen a chimney in Milton informed against for five years past, althoughsome are constantly sending out one-third of their coal in what is calledhere unparliamentary smoke.\"
     
       \"I only know it is impossible to keep the muslin blinds clean here abovea week together; and at Helstone we have had them up for a month ormore, and they have not looked dirty at the end of that time. And as forhands--Margaret, how many times did you say you had washed yourhands this morning before twelve o\"clock? Three times, was it not?\"
     
       \"Yes, mamma.\"
     
       \"You seem to have a strong objection to acts of parliament and alllegislation affecting your mode of management down here at Milton,\"
     
       said Mr. Hale.
     
       \"Yes, I have; and many others have as well. And with justice, I think.
     
       The whole machinery--I don\"t mean the wood and iron machinery now-ofthe cotton trade is so new that it is no wonder if it does not work wellin every part all at once. Seventy years ago what was it? And now whatis it not? Raw, crude materials came together; men of the same level, asregarded education and station, took suddenly the different positions ofmasters and men, owing to the motherwit, as regarded opportunities andprobabilities, which distinguished some, and made them far-seeing as towhat great future lay concealed in that rude model of Sir RichardArkwright\"s. The rapid development of what might be called a newtrade, gave those early masters enormous power of wealth andcommand. I don\"t mean merely over the workmen; I mean overpurchasers--over the whole world\"s market. Why, I may give you, as aninstance, an advertisement, inserted not fifty years ago in a Miltonpaper, that so-and-so (one of the half-dozen calico-printers of the time)would close his warehouse at noon each day; therefore, that allpurchasers must come before that hour. Fancy a man dictating in thismanner the time when he would sell and when he would not sell. Now,I believe, if a good customer chose to come at midnight, I should getup, and stand hat in hand to receive his orders.\"
     
       Margaret\"s lip curled, but somehow she was compelled to listen; shecould no longer abstract herself in her own thoughts.
     
     
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