the days of my life-第122章
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y laughed at me； an unknown young man。 And； years later； when the war was on； they dug up the book and printed these paragraphs and said； “Dear me； what a remarkable prophecy！” Three men were right： Sir Bartle Frere was right； and they disgraced him； my old chief； Sir Theophilus Shepstone； was right； and they disgraced him； and even I； humble as I was； was right； and they mocked at me。 We know the end。
Thus my residential and official connection with South Africa came to an end — I would not stop there any longer。 I came home and went to the bar； where I had fair prospects。 And then a sad thing happened to me — I wrote a successful book。
I do not know whether to be sorry or glad that I wrote it。 Other things might not have happened； and； after all； as Job the Patriarch says： “Man knoweth not his own way。” You go as destiny drives you。 So it was； gentlemen； I took to fiction。 Having begun； I had to go on。 And； after all； there is something to be said for it。 After all； it is not a bad thing to have given pleasure and amusement to many who are weary or sick； and； perhaps； some instruction also。 You might do worse than to write a good novel。 Not that I for a moment wish to state that all of mine are good。
Of course； the time es to every writer； I suppose； when he has an inspiration and does something which he knows to be better than he ever did before。 Perhaps he sees a little higher up into heaven perhaps he sees a little lower down into — the other depths； and he creates something and knows that that thing which he has created will live； and that it will even go glittering down the generations。 He knows； perhaps； that he has cut his name fairly deep upon the iron leaves of the Book of Time； which are so hard to mark。 Perhaps he knows that； and for a little while he is content。 Not for long — no artist； I think； is ever contented for long with what he has done。 But he thinks： “At least； I have done something。”
Then； perhaps； he begins to understand — it es into his mind — that that was not his real inspiration。 Not in these gauds of the imagination； these sparkling things； these plays of fancy or of eloquence or wit； was the real inspiration to be found。 He turns and wonders where it is。 And he turns； let us say； and looks at the dull masses of misery that pervade the globe； he looks and wonders； and he thinks： Is there nothing that I； humble as I am； can do to help to alleviate that misery； to lift up those who are fallen； to lift them up for their own good and for the good of the world？ And then； gentlemen； he knows that that； not the gaudy； exciting work is the real inspiration of his life。
And； perhaps； he turns and tries to match his own single strength against the prejudices of generations； and tries to get men to think as he does； tries to show them where the evil lies and where； too； lies the remedy。 Gentlemen； I have spoken； as it were； in allegory。 And yet these things have some application； certainly in my humble case they have some application。 Years ago； I saw what I described to you； I saw the evils with which； since then； I have attempted to cope。 I recognised that it was my duty to cope with them if I could。
It is a hard task； gentlemen。 It is a hard thing； in the first place； to live down the reputation of being a writer of fiction — to surmount the enormous barrier of prejudice that lies across one’s path。 And it is not for years； perhaps； that people will begin to listen and will begin to understand that to most men’s minds there are two sides。 Still； humbly； imperfectly； I did attempt it。 I have not done much。 Yet I have done something。 They listen to me now a bit。 If they had not listened to me I should not be here in my present position today as a missioner from the Government of Great Britain。
Well； what is it； what is this problem that moved me？ I will tell you in a few words。 I perceived and realised the enormous change that is ing over the Western world； how those； who for countless generations； dwelt upon the land； are deserting the land and crowding into the cities。 I studied the reasons for this。 For two years I studied them； going through England； village by village； county by county； town by town。 And I found out what they were。 In England the chief cause was lack of prospect on the land。 We are cramped in England with the remains of a feudal system which works nothing but ill； and under that system it is so that no man on the land seems to have a chance to rise。 The labourer on the land； say at two…and…twenty； is earning as high a wage as he can ever hope to earn。
I ask you； gentlemen； how should any of us like to know that at two…and…twenty we were doing the best we could hope to do in life？ That is the lot of the labourer on the land。 All that he has to look forward to at the end of his long career of forty or fifty years of toil is probably a place in the workhouse。 Is that an attractive prospect？ Then； no doubt； the spread of education； the facilities of travel； and other things of that kind conduce to the immigration into the cities； and this movement goes on with ever…increasing rapidity。
At the present moment in England； I believe we have but one…seventh of our population living on the land。 In the United States； if the figures given me are correct； matters are very little better。 And so it is in other countries — everywhere the land dwellers heap themselves into the cities。 And what happens to them when they get there？ How many succeed？ Not one in five； I say。 The rest of them； for the most part； get nothing。 If sickness strikes a man； when he arises from his bed his place is gone。 His children grow ill through crowding together in narrow courts and unsanitary rooms； and bee decimated by disease。 Bad times e and the workmen are dismissed by the thousand from their employ。 Grey hairs； at any rate； e at last； and with grey hairs the notice to quit； and so they go down； and they go under and bee part of that mass which is known as the submerged tenth — though I imagine there is a good deal more than a tenth。 And there they are — miseries to themselves； useless to their country； and a burden upon the town that has to support them。
Gentlemen； if you think I exaggerate； ask missioner Booth Tucker； and he will tell you。 He will tell you； he who knows； as one of the heads of the great organisation that is today dealing with this class of people。 He will tell you how many children they have to feed in the morning in the big cities in order that they may go to school； how many dock labourers they have to feed； and so on。 He can tell you tales you will scarcely believe of the suffering — the horrible suffering； the inconceivable misery of these great cities which the foolish peoples of the earth rush into to dwell there。
Now； that is what is going on in the great city。 Let us look at the other side of the question。 Let us go to places like Fort Amity； where I saw the Colony of the Salvation Army。 As your president told you； I am not at liberty to forestall my report in any way； but I can say this — that there I went to the schools； as I did in other places； and saw the children。 The parents of these Fort Amity children were taken from a great city； the city of Chicago； where mostly they were working as day labourers。 They came with nothing； in fact； it was necessary to pay the fares of most of them。 They had no prospects； nothing earned； nothing to hope for。 If we could get at the facts； no doubt we should find they lived in one or two rooms； and not too well。 I went and looked at these children。 My daughter photographed them in the schools at Fort Amity。 Never did you see a healthier； happier； more robust； more promising set of children in your life。 And I wondered how these children would have looked had not the Salvation Army had the idea of starting this Colony and had they been left to wander about in the streets of Chicago。 And I wondered also； gentlemen； how many of these faces — these happy； contented faces — would have been wanting； but for the change made in the condition of these children。
But you may be political economists； some of you； and we all know that political economy is a hard doctrine。 And you may say： Well； these people went to the cities of their own
