第35章 CHAPTER X WROUGHT IRON AND GOLD (3)
often utterly smothered under the glut of wealth that came down uponhim; and they tell strange tales of the wild extravagance of livingindulged in on gala-days by those early cotton-lords. There can be nodoubt, too, of the tyranny they exercised over their work-people. Youknow the proverb, Mr. Hale, \"Set a beggar on horseback, and he\"ll rideto the devil,\"--well, some of these early manufacturers did ride to thedevil in a magnificent style--crushing human bone and flesh under theirhorses\" hoofs without remorse. But by-and-by came a re-action, therewere more factories, more masters; more men were wanted. The powerof masters and men became more evenly balanced; and now the battle ispretty fairly waged between us. We will hardly submit to the decisionof an umpire, much less to the interference of a meddler with only asmattering of the knowledge of the real facts of the case, even thoughthat meddler be called the High Court of Parliament.
\"Is there necessity for calling it a battle between the two classes?\" askedMr. Hale. \"I know, from your using the term, it is one which gives a trueidea of the real state of things to your mind.\"
\"It is true; and I believe it to be as much a necessity as that prudentwisdom and good conduct are always opposed to, and doing battle withignorance and improvidence. It is one of the great beauties of oursystem, that a working-man may raise himself into the power andposition of a master by his own exertions and behaviour; that, in fact,every one who rules himself to decency and sobriety of conduct, andattention to his duties, comes over to our ranks; it may not be always asa master, but as an over-looker, a cashier, a book-keeper, a clerk, one onthe side of authority and order.\"
\"You consider all who are unsuccessful in raising themselves in theworld, from whatever cause, as your enemies, then, if I under-stand yourightly,\" said Margaret\" in a clear, cold voice.
\"As their own enemies, certainly,\" said he, quickly, not a little piqued bythe haughty disapproval her form of expression and tone of speakingimplied. But, in a moment, his straightforward honesty made him feelthat his words were but a poor and quibbling answer to what she hadsaid; and, be she as scornful as she liked, it was a duty he owed tohimself to explain, as truly as he could, what he did mean. Yet it wasvery difficult to separate her interpretation, and keep it distinct from hismeaning. He could best have illustrated what he wanted to say bytelling them something of his own life; but was it not too personal asubject to speak about to strangers ? Still, it was the simplestraightforward way of explaining his meaning; so, putting aside thetouch of shyness that brought a momentary flush of colour into his darkcheek, he said:
\"I am not speaking without book. Sixteen years ago, my father died
under very miserable circumstances. I was taken from school, and hadto become a man (as well as I could) in a few days. I had such a motheras few are blest with; a woman of strong power, and firm resolve. Wewent into a small country town, where living was cheaper than inMilton, and where I got employment in a draper\"s shop (a capital place,by the way, for obtaining a knowledge of goods). Week by week ourincome came to fifteen shillings, out of which three people had to bekept. My mother managed so that I put by three out of these fifteenshillings regularly. This made the beginning; this taught me self-denial.
Now that I am able to afford my mother such comforts as her age, ratherthan her own wish, requires, I thank her silently on each occasion forthe early training she gave me. Now when I feel that in my own case itis no good luck, nor merit, nor talent,--but simply the habits of lifewhich taught me to despise indulgences not thoroughly earned,--indeed,never to think twice about them,--I believe that this suffering, whichMiss Hale says is impressed on the countenances of the people ofMilton, is but the natural punishment of dishonestly-enjoyed pleasure,at some former period of their lives. I do not look on self-indulgent,sensual people as worthy of my hatred; I simply look upon them withcontempt for their poorness of character.\"
\"But you have had the rudiments of a good education,\" remarked Mr.
Hale. \"The quick zest with which you are now reading Homer, showsme that you do not come to it as an unknown book; you have read itbefore, and are only recalling your old knowledge.\"
\"That is true,--I had blundered along it at school; I dare say, I was evenconsidered a pretty fair classic in those days, though my Latin andGreek have slipt away from me since. But I ask you, what preparationthey were for such a life as I had to lead? None at all. Utterly none atall. On the point of education, any man who can read and write startsfair with me in the amount of really useful knowledge that I had at thattime.\"
\"Well! I don\"t agree with you. But there I am perhaps somewhat of apedant. Did not the recollection of the heroic simplicity of the Homericlife nerve you up?\"
\"Not one bit!\" exclaimed Mr. Thornton, laughing. \"I was too busy tothink about any dead people, with the living pressing alongside of me,neck to neck, in the struggle for bread. Now that I have my mother safein the quiet peace that becomes her age, and duly rewards her formerexertions, I can turn to all that old narration and thoroughly enjoy it.\"
\"I dare say, my remark came from the professional feeling of there beingnothing like leather,\" replied Mr. Hale.
When Mr. Thornton rose up to go away, after shaking hands with Mr.
and Mrs. Hale, he made an advance to Margaret to wish her good-bye in
a similar manner. It was the frank familiar custom of the place; butMargaret was not prepared for it. She simply bowed her farewell;although the instant she saw the hand, half put out, quickly drawn back,she was sorry she had not been aware of the intention. Mr. Thornton,however, knew nothing of her sorrow, and, drawing himself up to hisfull height, walked off, muttering as he left the house-\"
A more proud, disagreeable girl I never saw. Even her great beauty isblotted out of one\"s memory by her scornful ways.\"