Windyridge Part 33

The question was addressed to me, and I answered: "I am beginning to think it was selfishness that brought me here, and I am not sure that it is not selfishness which keeps me here. At the same time I have no wish to leave, and the question arises, Is it only the disagreeable which is right? Is selfishness never excusable?"

"In other words," remarked the Cynic, whose eyes were closed, "is not vice, after all, and at any rate sometimes, a modified form of virtue?"

"Listen to him!" exclaimed the vicar's wife; "the embodiment of selfishness is about to proclaim himself the apostle of morality. The unfettered lord of creation will expound to a slave of circ.u.mstance the ethical order of the universe, for the instruction of her mind and the good of her soul."

"The fact is," continued the Cynic, without heeding the interruption, "Miss Holden, like many other sensitive people of both s.e.xes, has a faulty conception of what selfishness is. There are many people who imagine that it is sinful to be happy, and a sign of grace to be miserable, which is about as sensible as to believe that it is an indication of good health when you are irritable and out of sorts. To be selfish is to be careless of the interests of others, and Miss Holden is certainly not that."

"It is good of you to say so," I said, "but I sometimes wonder if I am not shirking duty and evading responsibility by enjoying myself here."

The squire gave my hand an affectionate squeeze, but only his eyes spoke; and the vicar's wife turned to me.

"What brought you up here, dear? I don't think I ever knew."

"I am sure I don't," I replied, and before I had time to continue the Cynic leaned forward and looked at me.

"I know," he said.

"You once promised to explain me to myself," I said, smiling, "Is this the day and the hour?"

"That is for you to say," he replied. "You may object to a.n.a.lysis in public. True, there are some advantages from your point of view. You will have one of your own s.e.x to hold a brief for you, and a very partial judge to guarantee fair play."

"I do not mind," I replied; and the squire smiled contentedly.

The Cynic threw his cigarette into the fire and began: "As I understand the case, before you left London your duties kept your hands busily employed during working hours, but allowed you ample opportunity for the consideration of those social problems in which for the previous year or two you had been deeply interested, and a certain portion of your leisure was devoted to social and philanthropic work?"

I a.s.sented with a nod.

"Very well. Yielding to what appeared to be a sudden impulse, but to what was in reality the well-considered action of your subconscious self, you bound your burden of cares upon your back and fled from your City of Destruction."

"Like a coward," I interposed, "afraid to play the game of life because of its hazards. I might have remained and faced the problems and helped to fight the foe I loathed."

"I will come to that shortly," he said, and every trace of irony had left his voice; "at present I am considering why your subconscious self decided upon this line of action. The world's sorrows were oppressing you like a nightmare. Do you know that few of us can meet sorrow face to face and day by day and retain our strength, and particularly if we seek to meet it unprepared, unschooled? One of two things usually happens: we become hardened, or we go mad. From these alternatives it is sometimes wise to flee, and then flight is not cowardice, but prudence."

"I certainly obeyed my Inner Self," I said, "but is there not such a thing as a false conscience?"

"Your 'Inner Self' did not betray you," he continued. "Unwittingly you sought, not oblivion, but enlightenment and preparation. All earnest reformers are driven of the Spirit into the wilderness."

"Yes, but for what purpose, Derwent?" interposed the squire; "to be tempted of the devil?"

"To face the tempter, sir. To test their own armour in private conflict before they go forth to strike down the public foe. To discover the devil's strength, his powers and his limitations, before they match themselves against legions. To discover their own strength and limitations, too. The first essential in successful warfare is to know yourself and your enemy, and you gain that knowledge in solitude.

It was so with Jesus, with Paul, with Savonarola, with scores of other reformers. Miss Holden was driven into the wilderness--if you care to put it so--for a similar purpose."

"But ought one to avoid opportunities of usefulness?" I urged. "I was in the fray and I withdrew from it."

"A raw soldier, invalided home, though you did not know it," he continued, "and sent into the country for rest and renewal, and quiet preparation for effective service. Here you have gained your perspective. You survey the field of battle from the heights, and yet you have come in contact with the enemy at close quarters, too, and you know his tactics. You will face the problems of sin and suffering and social injustice again, but with new heart and less of despair."

"You are too generous, I fear. I should like to think that my motives were so pure, but----"

"What is motive? Motive is what excites to action. Your motive was not less pure because it was intuitive and unrecognised. But let me ask you: What idea are you disposed to think you left unaccomplished?

What object ought you to have pursued?"

I thought a moment before I replied: "It seems to me that when there is so much sin and suffering in the world we should try to alleviate it, and to remedy the wrongs from which so much of it springs. And from these things I fled, though I knew that the labourers were few."

"You fled from the devil, did you? And you found Windyridge a Paradise from which he was barred!"

I remained silent.

"London has no monopoly of sin and suffering. Evil has not a merely local habitation. If it was a wile of the devil to remove you out of his way it has been singularly unsuccessful, I conclude, for I understand you have found him vigorously at work here all the time.

Have you then discovered no opportunities of service and usefulness in the wilderness?"

"If happiness is gained by administering it to others," said the squire with some emotion; "if to break up the hard ground of the heart and sow in it the seed of peace is to defeat the devil and his aims, then has Miss Holden reached her ideal and earned her happiness. I told her a year ago that the devil was a familiar presence in this village, but I thank G.o.d, as others do and have done, that she has helped to thwart him."

Perhaps I ought not to write all this down, for it has the savour of vanity and conceit, but I do not see how I can well avoid doing so.

There are times when the heart speaks rather than the judgment, and the squire's heart is very warm towards me; and though I would not doubt his sincerity it is certain that he is not impartial where I am concerned.

The Cynic looked pleased. "I quite agree, sir," he said; "Miss Holden has used her opportunities--not simply those which presented themselves, but those which she has sought and found, which is higher service. Hence, I conclude that the policy of her subconscious self has been justified, and that she is absolved from any charge of selfishness."

"Really, Philip!" said the vicar's wife, "your eloquence has almost deprived me of the power of speech, which you will acknowledge is no mean achievement. I thought I was appointed counsel for the defence and that you were to prefer the indictment and prove Miss Holden guilty of some heinous crime. _My_ office has been a sinecure, for a better piece of special pleading for the defence I have never listened to."

"I must be fair at all costs," he replied; "Miss Holden had no misgivings, I imagine, when she came here at first. Doubts arose, as they so often do with the conscientious, when the venture prospered.

The martyr spirit distrusts itself when there is no sign of rack and f.a.ggot. I seek now to reveal Miss Holden to herself."

"You are wonderfully sure of yourself," returned his opponent, "but let us be fair to our pretensions. If you are for the defence let me be for the prosecution. Does one serve his country better when he leaves the thick of the fray to study maps and tactics? If one has the opportunity to live is it sufficient to vegetate? For every opportunity of usefulness that Windyridge can offer London can provide a score, and Miss Holden's lot was cast in London. Is she living her life? That, I take it, is her problem."

"Yes," I said, "it is something like that."

"I accept your challenge," replied the Cynic, "and I agree that it is not what we do but what we are capable of doing that counts. But the most effective workman is not he who undertakes the largest variety of jobs, but he who puts himself into his work. You speak of vegetating, and you ask if Miss Holden is living her life. What is life? The man who rises early and retires late, and spends the intervening hours in one unceasing rush does not know the meaning of life; whereas the farmer who goes slowly and steadily along the track of the hours, or the student who devotes only a portion of his time to his books and spends the rest in recreation, or the business man who declines to sacrifice himself upon the altar of Mammon--these men live. And it is the man who lives who benefits his fellows. To visit the sick, to clothe the naked, to dole out sympathy and charity to the poor is n.o.ble work, but it is not necessarily the most effective way of helping them.

The man who sits down to study the problem of prevention--the root causes of misery and injustice--and who discovers and publishes the remedy, is the truer and more valuable friend, though he never enter a slum or do volunteer work in a soup kitchen."

"And whilst we are diagnosing the conditions rather than the case the patient dies," said the vicar's wife. "We stop our sick visiting and our soup kitchens, and bid the people suffer and starve in patience whilst we retire into our studies to theorise over causes."

"To refer to your ill.u.s.tration of a moment ago, my dear madam, the battle need not stop because one or two men of insight retire to serve their country by studying maps and tactics. We need not chain up the Good Samaritan, but we shall be of far greater service to humanity if, instead of forming a league for the supply of oil and wine and plasters, we inaugurate measures to clear the road of robbers. 'This ought ye to do and not to leave the other undone.'"

"You admit, then, that some may find their opportunity of service in work of this baser sort?"

"No work is base which is done with a pure motive and done well. All I contend for is that when instinct bids any of us withdraw for a time, or even altogether, it is wise to trust our instincts. If Miss Holden had devoted herself to a life of pleasure and selfish isolation she might have been charged with cowardly flight from duty. We all know she has done nothing of the kind, and therefore I say her intuition was trustworthy, and she must not accuse herself of selfishness."

"I agree with all my heart," said the vicar's wife; "but the problems which she left unsolved are no nearer solution."

"How do you know that?" he asked. "The war may be nearer its end because your unheroic soldier sheathed his sword and put on his thinking-cap. That unsoldier-like action may have saved the lives of thousands and brought about an honourable peace. I do not know that Miss Holden has done much to solve the general problem, but I dare a.s.sert that she views it more clearly, and could face it more confidently than she could have done a year ago--that is to say, she has solved her own problem."

"There is some truth in that," I said. "Windyridge has given me clearer vision, and I am more optimistic on that account. Mr. Evans told me on the occasion of our first meeting that I should find human nature the same here as elsewhere, and that is so. But the type is larger in the village than it is in the town, and I can read and understand it better. Yet one thing town and country alike have proved to me, and that is what you, Mr. Evans, a.s.serted so confidently--that selfishness is the root of sin. How are we to conquer that?"

"Only by patient effort," replied the squire. "Shallow reformers are eager to try hasty and ill-considered measures. Zealous converts, whose eyes have been suddenly opened to the anomalies and injustices of society, are angry and impatient because the wheels of progress revolve so slowly, and they become rebellious and sometimes anarchical. And their discontent is a sign of life, and it is good in its way, but ordinarily it is ineffective. You may blow up the Council House in Jericho because the councillors have not done their duty, and you may shoot the robbers because they have wounded the traveller, and the zealous reformer will commend you and say: 'Now we are beginning to make things move!' But the man who goes to work to destroy the seeds of greed and selfishness, so that men will no longer either need or covet the possessions of others, is the real reformer; but reformation is a plant of slow growth. Yet everyone who sows the antidote to selfishness in the heart of his neighbour is to be accounted a reformer."

The vicar's carriage was announced at that moment and the conversation was interrupted.

"We will continue it next week, sir," said the Cynic, "if you will allow me to pay you another visit. I cannot be here until the evening of Sat.u.r.day; may I stay the week-end?"