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Has Often Risen So Far Superior To The Material Body That

Only By Trickling Blood Or Faintness Have Persons Become Aware Of Their

Injuries. But "A Wounded spirit, Who Can Bear?" And When Did Hope,

Self-Love, Or Pride, Ever Receive Home-Thrusts Unconsciously?

 

 

 

The Well-Meaning Letter, Written By The Kindly Editor, And Full Of

Wholesome Advice, Cut Like A Surgeon'S Knife In some Desperate Case When

It Is A Question Whether The Patient Can Endure The Heroic Treatment

Necessary. Haldane'S Stilted and Unnatural Tales Had Been Projected into

Being By Such Fiery And Violent Means That They Might Almost Be Termed

Volcanic In their Origin; But The Fused mass Which Was The Result,

Resembled scoria Or Cinders Rather Than Fine Metal Shaped into Artistic

Forms. Although His Manuscripts Could Have Been Sold In the World'S

Market Only By The Pound, He Had Believed, Or, At Least, Strongly Hoped

Otherwise, Like So Many Others, Who, With Beating Hearts, Have Sent The

Children Of Their Brains Out To Seek Their Fortunes With No Better

Results.

 

 

 

The Unbroken And Ominous Silence Of The Returned manuscript Is A Severe

Disappointment Even To Those Who From Safe And Happy Homes Have Sought

To Gain The Public Ear, And Whose Impelling Motive Toward Literature Is

Scarcely More Than An Impulse Of Vanity. But To Haldane The Letter,

Which In giving The Editorial Estimate Of One Of His Stories Revealed

The Fate Of All The Others, Brought Far More Than A Mere Disappointment.

It Brought Despair And The Recklessness And Demoralization Which

Inevitably Follow. The Public Regarded him As A Depraved, Commonplace

Vagabond, Eminent Only In his Capacity For Evil And Meanness, And He Now

Inclined strongly To The Same View Of Himself. True Self-Respect He Had

Never Possessed, And His Best Substitute, Pride, At Last Gave Way. He

Felt That He Was Defeated for Life, And The Best That Life Could Now

Offer Was A Brief Career Of Sensual Pleasure. Mrs. Arnot And Laura

Romeyn Were So Far Removed from Him As The Stars; It Was Torment To

Think Of Them, And He Would Blot Out Their Memory And The Memory Of All

That He Had Hoped for, With Wine And Excitement. It Seemed to Him That

The World Said To Him With United voice, "Go To The Devil," And Then

Made It Impossible For Him To Do Otherwise.

 

 

 

Since He Was Defeated--Since All His Proud Assurances To His Mother That

He Would, Alone And Unaided, Regain His Lost Good Name And Position In

Society, Had Proved but Empty Boasts--He Would No Longer Hide The Fact

From Her, Not In the Hope Of Being Received at Home As A Repentant

Prodigal (Even The Thought Of Such A Course Was Unendurable), But With

The Purpose Of Obtaining From Her The Means Of Entering Upon A Life Of

Vicious Pleasure.

 

 

 

The Young Man'S Father--Impelled both By His Strong Attachment For His

Wife, And Also By The Prudent Forethought With Which Men Seek To Protect

And Provide For Those They Love, Long After They Have Passed away From

Earthly Life--Had Left His Property Wholly In trust To His Wife,

Associating With Her One Or Two Other Chosen Counsellors. As Long As She

Lived and Remained unmarried she Controlled it, The Husband Trusting To

Her Affection For Her Children To Make Suitable Provision For Them. He

Had Seen With Prophetic Anxiety The Mother'S Fond Indulgence Of Their

Only Son, And The Practical Man Dreaded the Consequences. He Therefore

Communicated to Her Verbally, And Also Embodied in his Will, His Wish

That His Son Should Have No Control Over The Principal Of Such Portion

Of The Estate As Would Eventually Fall To Him Until He Had Established a

Character That Secured the Confidence Of All Good Men, And Satisfied the

Judgment Of The Cautious Co-Executors. The Provisions Of The Will Still

Further Required that, Should The Young Man Prove Erratic And Vicious,

His Income Should Be Limited in such Ways As Would, As Far As Possible,

Curb Excess.

 

 

 

Haldane Knew All This, And In the Days Of His Confidence In himself And

His Brilliant Future Had Often Smiled at These "Absurd Restrictions."

The Idea That There Would Ever Be Any Reason For Their Enforcement Was

Preposterous, And The Thought Of His Fond, Weak Mother Refusing anything

That He Demanded, Was Still Further Out Of The Range Of Possibility.

 

 

 

The Wretched youth Now Sank Into A Far Lower Depth Than He Had Ever Yet

Reached. He Deliberately Resolved to Take Advantage Of That Mother'S

Weakness, And For The Basest Ends. While Under The Influence Of Hope And

Pride, He Had Resolved to Receive No Assistance Even From Her, So That

He Might Wholly Claim The Credit Of Regaining all That He Had Lost; But

Now, In the Recklessness Of Despair, He Proposed not Only To Ask For All

The Money He Could Obtain, But, If Necessary, Extort It By Any Means In

His Power.

 

 

 

He And The Forlorn Place Of His Bitter Revery Grew More And More Into

Harmony. The Small, Half-Finished apartment Of The Ruinous New House

Became More Truly The Counterpart Of His Life, It Was Bare; It Was

Unsightly From The Debris Of Its Own Discolored and Crumbling Walls. The

Possibility Of Sweet Home Scenes Had Passed from It, And It Had Become A

Place In which An Orgy Might Be Hidden, Or Some Revolting Crime

Committed. To Precisely This Use Haldane Put His Temporary Refuge Before

Leaving It; For Excesses And Evil Deeds That The Mind Has Deliberately

Resolved upon Are Virtually Accomplished facts As Far As The Wrong-Doer

Is Concerned. Before Leaving His Dingy Hiding-Place Haldane Had In the

Depths Of His Soul Been Guilty Of Drunkenness And All Kinds Of Excess.

He Also Purposed unutterable Baseness Toward The Widowed mother Whom, By

Every Principle Of True Manhood, He Was Bound To Cherish And Shield; And

He Had In volition More Certainly Committed the Act Of Self-Destruction

Than Does The Poor Wretch Who, Under Some Mad, Half-Insane Impulse,

Makes Permanent By Suicide The Evils A Little Fortitude And Patient

Effort Might Have Remedied. There Is No Self-Murder So Hopeless And

Wicked as That Of Deliberate Sin Against One'S Own Body And Soul.

 

 

 

No Man Becomes A Saint Or Villain In an Hour Or By A Single Step; But

There Are Times When Evil Tendencies Combine With Adverse Influences And

Circumstances To Produce Sudden And Seemingly Fatal Havoc In character.

As The World Goes, Haldane Was A Well-Meaning Youth, Although Cursed

With Evil Habits And Tendencies, When He Entered the Isolated,

Half-Finished house. He Was Bad And Devilish When He Came Out Upon The

Street Again, And Walked recklessly Toward The City, Caring Not Who Saw

Or Recognized him. In the Depths Of His Heart He Had Become An Enemy To

Society, And, So Far From Hoping To Gain Its Respect And Good-Will, He

Defied and Intended to Outrage It To The End Of Life.

 

 

 

A Man In such A Mood Gravitates With Almost Certainty Toward The

Liquor-Saloon, And Haldane Naturally Commenced drinking at The Various

Dens Whose Doors Stood Alluringly Open. His Slender Purse Did Not Give

Him The Choice Of High-Priced wines, And To Secure The Mad Excitement

And Oblivion He Craved, Only Fiery Compounds Were Ordered--Such As Might

Have Been Distilled in the Infernal Regions To Accomplish Infernal

Results; And They Soon Began To Possess Him Like A Legion Of Evil

Spirits.

 

 

 

If Shakespeare Characterized the "Invisible Spirit Of Wine" As A "Devil"

In The Unsophisticated days Of Old, When Wine Was Wine, And Not A

Hell-Broth Concocted of Poisonous Drugs, What Unspeakable Fiends Must

Lurk In the Grimy Bottles Whose Contents, Analyzed and Explained, Would

Appall Some, At Least, Of The Stolid And Stony-Hearted venders!

 

 

 

Haldane Soon Felt Himself Capable Of Any Wickedness, Any Crime. He

Became A Human Volcano, That Might At Any Moment Pass Into A Violent And

Murderous Action, Regardless Of Consequences--Indeed, As Utterly

Incapable Of Foreseeing and Realizing Them As The Mountain That Belches

Destruction On Vineyard And Village.

 

 

 

We Regard Ourselves As A Civilized and Christian People, And Yet We

Tolerate On Every Corner Places Where Men Are Transformed into Incarnate

Devils, And Sent Forth To Run Amuck In our Streets, And Outrage The

Helpless Women And Children In their Own Homes. The Naked inhabitants Of

Dahomey Could Do No Worse In this Direction.

 

 

 

But Haldane Was Not Destined to End His Orgy In the Lurid Glare Of A

Tragedy, For, As The Sun Declined, The Miserable Day Was Brought To A

Wretched and Fitting Close. Unconsciously He Had Strayed to The Saloon

On Whose Low Steps Messrs. Van Wink And Ketchem Had Left Him On The

Memorable Night From Which He Dated his Downfall. Of Course He Did Not

Recognize The Place, But There Was One Within That Associated him

Inseparably With It, And Also With Misfortunes Of His Own. As Haldane

Leaned unsteadily Against The Bar A Seedy-Looking Man Glared at Him A

Moment, And Then Stepped to His Side, Saying:

 

 

 

"I'Ll Take A Few Dhrinks Wid Ye. Faix! After All The Trouble Ye'Ve Been

To Me Ye Oughter Kape Me In dhrink The Year."

 

 

 

Turning To The Speaker, The Young Man Recognized pat M'Cabe, Whom He

Also Associated with His Evil Fortunes, And Toward Whom He Now Felt A

Strong Vindictiveness, The Sudden And Unreasoning anger Of Intoxication.

In Reply, Therefore, He Threw The Contents Of His Glass Into Pat'S Face,

Saying With A Curse:

 

 

 

"That Is The Way I Drink With Such As You."

 

 

 

Instantly There Was A Bar-Room Brawl Of The Ordinary Brutal Type, From

Whose Details We Gladly Escape. Attracted by The Uproar, A Policeman Was

Soon On Hand, And Both The Combatants Were Arrested and Marched off To

The Nearest Police Station. Bruised, Bleeding, Disheveled, And With Rent

Garments, Haldane Again Passed through The Streets As A Criminal, With

The Rabble Hooting after Him. But Now There Was No Intolerable Sense Of

Shame As At First. He Had Become A Criminal At Heart; He Had

Deliberately And Consciously Degraded himself, And His Whole Aspect Had

Come To Be In keeping With His Character.

 

 

 

It May Be Objected that The Transformation Had Been Too Rapid. It Had

Not Been Rapid. His Mother Commenced preparing Him For This In the

Nursery By Her Weak Indulgence. She Had Sown The Seeds Of Which His

Present Actions Were The Legitimate Outgrowth. The Weeds Of His Evil

Nature Had Been Unchecked when Little, And Now They Were Growing So Rank

As To Overshadow All.

 

 

 

Multitudes Go To Ruin Who Must Trace Their Wrong Bias Back To Cultivated

And Even Christian Homes.

Chapter XXVII (God Sent His Angel)

The Mad Excitement Of Anger And Drunkenness Was Speedily Followed by

Stupor, And The Night During Which Haldane Was Locked up In the

Station-House Was A Blank. The Next Morning He Was Decidedly Ill As The

Result Of His Debauch; For The After-Effects Of The Vile Liquor He Had

Drank Was Such As To Make Any Creature Save Rational Man Shun It In the

Future With Utter Loathing.

 

 

 

But The Officers Of The Law Had Not The Slightest Consideration For His

Aching Head And Jarring Nerves. He Was Hustled off To The Police Court

With Others, And He Now Seemed in harmony With The Place And Company.

 

 

 

Pat M'Cabe Was A Veteran In these Matters, And Had His Witnesses Ready,

Who Swore To The Truth, And Anything Else Calculated to Assist Pat,

Their Crony, Out Of His Scrape. Unfortunately For Haldane, The Truth Was

Against Him, And He Remained sullen And Silent, Making No Defence. The

Natural Result, Therefore, Of The Brief Hearing, Was His Committal To

The Common Jail For Ten Days, And The Liberation Of Pat, With A Severe

Reprimand.

 

 

 

Thus, After The Lapse Of A Few Brief Weeks, Haldane Found Himself In the

Same Cell Whence He Had Gone Out Promising and Expecting To Accomplish

So Much. He Could Not Help Recalling His Proud Words To His Mother And

Mrs. Arnot As He Looked around The Bare Walls, And He Was Sufficiently

Himself Again To Realize Partially How Complete And Disgraceful Had Been

His Defeat. But Such Was His Mood That It Could Find No Better

Expression Than A Malediction Upon Himself And The World In general.

Then, Throwing Himself Upon His Rude

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