Never,
never--try as we might--could any single one of us be quite in the
position of one of those whose approaching pauperisation my distant
relative had so vehemently deplored. We were already pauperised. If we
served our country, we were pensioned.... If we inherited land, it could
not be taken from us. If we went into the Church, we were there for life,
whether we were suitable or no. If we attempted the more hazardous
occupations of the law, medicine, the arts, or business, there were
always those homes, those relations, those friends of ours to fall back
on, if we failed. No! We could never have to rely entirely on
ourselves; we could never be pauperised more than we were already! And a
light burst in on me. That explained why my distant relative felt so
keenly. It bit him, for he saw, of course, how dreadful it would be for
these poor people of the working classes when legislation had succeeded
in placing them in the humiliating position in which we already were--the
dreadful position of having something to depend on apart from our own
exertions, some sort of security in our lives. I saw it now. It was his
secret pride, gnawing at him all the time, that made him so rabid on the
point. He was longing, doubtless, day and night, not to have had a
father who had land, and had left a sister well enough off to keep him
while he was waiting for his job.
Pages:
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67