"I once knew a world-famous engineer with whom I used to breakfast
occasionally. He had a patent egg-boiler on the table, with a little
double-sided ladle underneath to hold the spirit. He complained that his
egg was always undercooked. I said, 'Why not reverse the ladle so as
to bring the deeper cup uppermost?' He was charmed with my perspicacity.
The solution had never occurred to him. You remember, too, no doubt, the
story of Coleridge and the horse collar. We aim too much at great
developments. If we cultivate resourcefulness, the rest will follow.
Shall I state my system _in nuce_? It is to encourage this spirit of
resourcefulness."
"Surely the habitual criminal has it in a marked degree?"
"Yes; but abnormally developed in a single direction. His one object is
to out-manoeuvre in a game of desperate and immoral chances. The tactical
spirit in him has none of the higher ambition. It has felt itself in the
degree only that stops at defiance."
"That is perfectly true."
"It is half self-conscious of an individuality that instinctively assumes
the hopelessness of a recognition by duller intellects. Leaning to
resentment through misguided vanity, it falls 'all oblique.' What is the
cure for this? I answer, the teaching of a divine egotism. The subject
must be led to a pure devotion to self. What he wishes to respect he must
be taught to make beautiful and interesting. The policy of sacrifice to
others has so long stunted his moral nature because it is an hypocritical
policy. We are responsible to ourselves in the first instance; and to
argue an eternal system of blind self-sacrifice is to undervalue the
fine gift of individuality. In such he sees but an indefensible policy
of force applied to the advantage of the community. He is told to be
good--not that he may morally profit, but that others may not suffer
inconvenience."
Polyhistor was beginning to grasp, through his confusion, a certain clue
of 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 his
mind 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. I
eliminate cant and hypocrisy, and then introduce self-respect. It isn't
enough to employ a man's hands only. Initiation in some labour that
should prove wholesome and remunerative is a redeeming factor, but it
isn't all. His mind must work also, and awaken to its capacities. If it
rusts, the body reverts to inhuman instincts."
"May I ask how you--?"
"By intercourse--in my own person or through my officials. I wish to have
only those about me who are willing to contribute to my designs, and
with whom I can work in absolute harmony. All my officers are chosen to
that end. No doubt a dash of constitutional sentimentalism gives colour
to my theories. I get it from a human tract in me that circumstances have
obliged me to put a hoarding round."
"I begin to gather daylight."
"Quite so. My patients are invited to exchange views with their guardians
in a spirit of perfect friendliness; to solve little problems of
practical moment; to acquire the pride of self-reliance. We have
competitions, such as certain newspapers open to their readers, in a
simple form. I draw up the questions myself. The answers give me insight
into the mental conditions of the competitors. Upon insight I proceed. I
am fortunate in private means, and I am in a position to offer modest
prizes to the winners. Whenever such an one is discharged, he finds
awaiting him the tools most handy to his vocation. I bid him go forth
in no pharisaical spirit, and invite him to communicate with me. I wish
the shadow of the gaol to extend no further than the road whereon it
lies. Henceforth, we are acquaintances with a common interest at heart.
Isn't it monstrous that a state-fixed degree of misconduct should earn a
man social ostracism? Parents are generally inclined to rule extra
tenderness towards a child whose peccadilloes have brought him a
whipping. For myself, I have no faith in police supervision. Give a
culprit his term and have done with it. I find the majority who come back
to me are ticket-of-leave men.
"Have I said enough? I offer you the reversion of the post. The present
holder of it leaves in a month's time. Please to determine here and at
once."
"Very good. I have decided."
"You will accept?"
"Yes."
* * * * *
So far wrote Polyhistor in the bonny days of early manhood--an attempt
made in a spasm of enthusiasm inspired in him and humoured by his most
engaging Mentor, to record his first impressions of a notable personality
not many days after its introduction to him. He has never taken up the
tale again until now, when an insistent sense, as of a task left
unfinished, compels him to the effort. Over his sweet Mentor the grass
lies thick, and flowers of aged stalk bloom perennially, and "Oh, the
difference to me!"
To _me_, for it is time to drop the poor conceit, the pseudonym that once
served its little purpose to awaken tender derision.
I take up the old and stained manuscript, with its marginalia, that are
like the dim call from a far-away voice, and I know that, so I am driven
to record the sequel to that gay introduction, it must be in a spirit of
sombreness 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 is
cold some forty years--forty years!--and I think I have been a little
chill during all that time. But, though the room rustle with phantoms and
menace stalk in the retrospect, I shall acquit my conscience of its
burden, refusing to be bullied by the counsel of a destiny that
subpoena'd me entirely against my will.