Mike Fletcher, George Moore [reading books for 4 year olds .TXT] 📗

Only Attempt

To Understand. Cooper's Aspirations Towards An Ideal Tickled Silk's

Mind As It Prepared Its Snares. Cooper Often Invited Silk To Dine

With Him At The National Liberal Club; Silk Sometimes Asked Cooper To

Dine With Him At The Union. Silk And Cooper Were Considered Alike,

And There Were Many Points In Which Their Appearances Coincided.

Cooper Was The Shorter Man Of The Two,  But Both Were Tall,  Thin,

Narrow,  And Sallow Complexioned; Both Were Essentially Clean,

Respectable,  And Middle-Class.

 

Cooper Was The Son Of A Low Church Bishop Who Had Gained His Mitre By

Temperance Oratory,  And What His Lordship Was In The Cathedral,

Cooper Was In The Suburban Drawing-Rooms Where Radical Politics And

The Woman's Cause Were Discussed. When He Had A Brief He Brought It

To The Library To Show It; He Almost Lived In The Library. He Arrived

The Moment It Was Opened,  And Brought A Packet Of Sandwiches So As

Not To Waste Time Going Out To Lunch. His Chambers Were Furnished

Without Taste,  But The Works Of Comte And Spencer Showed That He Had

Attempted To Think; And The Works Of Several Socialistic Writers

Showed That He Had Striven To Solve The Problem Of Human Misery. On

The Table Were Several Novels By Balzac,  Which Conversation With

Harding Had Led Him To Purchase And To Read. He Likewise Possessed A

Few Volumes Of Modern Poetry,  But He Freely Confessed That He

Preferred Pope,  Dryden,  And Johnson; And It Was Impossible To Bring

Him To Understand That De Quincey Was More Subtle And Suggestive Than

The Author Of London.

 

Generally Our Souls Are Made Of One Conspicuous Modern Mental Aspect;

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But Below This Aspect We Are Woven And Coloured By The Spirit Of Some

Preceding Century,  Our Chance Inheritance,  And Cooper Was A Sort Of

Product Of The Pedantry Of Johnson And The Utilitarian Mysticism Of

Comte. Perhaps The Idea Nearest To Cooper's Heart Was "The Woman's

Cause." The Misery And Ignominy Of Human Life Had Affected Him,  And

He Dreamed Of The World's Regeneration Through Women; And Though Well

Aware That Comte And Spencer Advocate The Application Of Experience

In All Our Many Mental Embarrassments,  He Failed To Reconsider

His Beliefs In Female Virtue,  Although Frequently Pressed To Do

So By Mike. Some Personal Animosity Had Grown Out Of Their Desire

To Convince Each Other. Cooper Had Once Even Meditated Mike's

Conversion,  And Mike Never Missed An Opportunity Of Telling Some

Story Which He Deemed Destructive Of Cooper's Faith. His Faith Was

To Him What A Microscope Is To A Scientist,  And It Enabled Him To

Discover The Finest Characteristics In The Souls Of Bar-Girls,  Chorus

Girls,  And Prostitutes; And Even When He Fell,  And They Fell,  His

Belief In Their Virtue And The Nobility Of Their Womanly Instincts

Remained Unshaken.

 

Mike Had Just Finished A Most Racy Story Concerning His First

Introduction To A Certain Countess. Cooper Had Listened In Silence,

But When Mike Turned At The End Of His Tale And Asked Him What He

Thought Of His Conduct,  Cooper Rose From His Chair.

 

"I Think You Behaved Like A Blackguard."

 

In A Moment Mike Was Aware He Had Put Himself In The Wrong--The Story

About The Countess Could Not Be Told Except To His Destruction In Any

Language Except His Own,  And He Must Therefore Forbear To Strike

Cooper And Swallow The Insult.

 

"You Ass,  Get Out; I Can't Quarrel With You On Such A Subject."

 

The Embarrassment Was Increased By Cooper Calling To Silk And Asking

If He Were Coming With Him. The Prudent Silk Felt That To Stay Was To

Signify His Approval Of Mike's Conduct In The Case Of The Indiscreet

Countess. To Leave With Cooper Was To Write Himself Down A Prig,

Expose Himself To The Sarcasm Of Several Past Masters In The Art Of

Gibing,  And To Make In Addition Several Powerful Enemies. But The

Instinct Not To Compromise Himself In Any Issue Did Not Desert Him,

And Rushing After Cooper He Attempted The Peace-Maker. He Knew The

Attempt Would Mean No More Than Some Hustling In The Doorway,  And

Some Ineffectual Protestation,  And He Returned A Few Minutes After To

Join In The Ridicule Heaped Upon The Unfortunate Cooper,  And To Vow

Inwardly That This Was His Last Evening In Bohemia.

 

By The Piano,  Smoking A Clay Pipe,  There Sat A Large,  Rough,  Strong

Man. His Beard Was Bristly And Flame-Coloured,  His Face Was Crimson

And Pimply; Lion-Like Locks Hung In Profusion About The Collar Of His

Shabby Jacket. His Linen Was Torn And Thin; Crumpled Was The Necktie,

And Nearly Untied,  And The Trousers Were Worn And Frayed,  And The

Boots Heavy. He Looked As If He Could Have Carried A Trunk

Excellently Well,  But As That Thought Struck You Your Eyes Fell Upon

His Hands,  Which Were The Long,  Feminine-Shaped Hands Generally Found

In Those Of Naturally Artistic Temperament,  Nearly Always In Those

Who Practise Two Or More Of The Arts. Sands Affected All The Arts.

Enumerate: He Played Snatches Of Bach On The Violin,  On The Piano,

And On The Organ; He Composed Fragments For All Three Instruments. He

Painted Little Landscapes After (A Long Way After) The Manner Of

Corot,  Of Whom He Could Talk Until The Small Hours In The Morning If

An Occasional Drink And Cigar Were Forthcoming. He Modelled Little

Statuettes In Wax,  Cupids And Nymphs,  And He Designed Covers For

Books. He Could Do All These Things A Little,  And Not Stupidly,

Although Inefficiently. He Had Been A Volunteer,  And Therefore Wrote

On Military Subjects,  And Had On Certain Occasions Been Permitted To

Criticize Our Naval Defences And Point Out The Vices And Shortcomings

In Our Military System In The Leading Evening Papers. He Was

Generally Seen With A Newspaper Under His Arm Going Towards Charing

Cross Or Fleet Street. He Never Strayed Further West Than Charing

Cross,  Unless He Was Going To A "Picture Show," And There Was No

Reason Why He Should Pass Ludgate Circus,  For Further East There Were

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Neither Newspapers Nor Restaurants. He Was Quite Without Vanity,  And

Therefore Without Ambition,  Buddha Was Never More So,  Not Even After

Attaining The Nirvana. A Picture Show In Bond Street,  A Half-Crown

Dinner At Simpson's,  Or The Rainbow,  Coffee And Cigars After,  Was All

That He Desired; Give Him That,  And He Was A Pleasant Companion Who

Would Remain With You Until You Turned Him Out,  Or In Charity,  For He

Was Often Homeless,  Allowed Him To Sleep On Your Sofa.

 

Sands Was Not A Member Of The Temple,  But Hall's Rooms Were Ever A

Refuge To The Weary--There They Might Rest,  And There Was There Ever

For Them A Drink And A Mouthful Of Food. And There Sands Had Met The

Decayed Barrister Who Held The Rooms Opposite; Which,  Although He Had

Long Ceased To Occupy,  And Had No Use For,  He Still Wished To Own,  If

He Could Do So Without Expense,  And This Might Be Done By Letting Two

Rooms,  And Reserving One For Himself.

 

The Unwary Barrister,  Believing In The Solvency Of Whoever He Met At

Hall's,  Intrusted His Chambers To Sands,  Without Demanding The Rent

In Advance. A Roof To Sleep Under Had Been The Chief Difficulty In

Sands' Life. He Thought Not At All Of A Change Of Clothes,  And Clean

Linen Troubled Him Only Slightly. Now Almost Every Want Seemed

Provided For. Coals He Could Get From Hall,  Also Occasional

Half-Crowns; These Sufficed To Pay For His Breakfast; A Dinner He

Could Generally "Cadge," And If He Failed To Do So,  He Had Long Ago

Learnt To Go Without. It Was Hard Not To Admire His Gentleness,  His

Patiel-Wise. On Him Shall Also Descend The Concourse On High,  Each Bearing

Aloft A Chalice Of Pure Light. Thus Hath It Been Foreordained In The Realm

Of God's Revelation,  By The Behest Of Him Who Is The All-Glorious,  The

Most Powerful.

 

There Lay Concealed Within The Holy Veil,  And Prepared For The Service Of

God,  A Company Of His Chosen Ones Who Shall Be Manifested Unto Men,  Who

Shall Aid His Cause,  Who Shall Be Afraid Of No One,  Though The Entire

Human Race Rise Up And War Against Them. These Are The Ones Who,  Before

The Gaze Of The Dwellers On Earth And The Denizens Of Heaven,  Shall Arise

And,  Shouting Aloud,  Acclaim The Name Of The Almighty,  And Summon The

Children Of Men To The Path Of God,  The All-Glorious,  The All-Praised.

Walk Thou In Their Way,  And Let No One Dismay Thee. Be Of Them Whom The

Tumult Of The World,  However Much It May Agitate Them In The Path Of Their

Creator,  Can Never Sadden,  Whose Purpose The Blame Of The Blamer Will

Never Defeat.

 

Go Forth With The Tablet Of God And His Signs,  And Rejoin Them That Have

Believed In Me,  And Announce Unto Them Tidings Of Our Most Holy Paradise.

Warn,  Then,  Those That Have Joined Partners With Him. Say: I Am Come To

You,  O People,  From The Throne Of Glory,  And Bear You An Announcement From

God,  The Most Powerful,  The Most Exalted,  The Most Great. In Mine Hand I

Carry The Testimony Of God,  Your Lord And The Lord Of Your Sires Of Old.

Weigh It With The Just Balance That Ye Possess,  The Balance Of The

Testimony Of The Prophets And Messengers Of God. If Ye Find It To Be

Established In Truth,  If Ye Believe It To Be Of God,  Beware,  Then,  Lest Ye

Cavil At It,  And Render Your Works Vain,  And Be Numbered With The

Infidels. It Is Indeed The Sign Of God That Hath Been Sent Down Through

The Power Of Truth,  Through Which The Validity Of His Cause Hath Been

Demonstrated Unto His Creatures,  And The Ensigns Of Purity Lifted Up

Betwixt Earth And Heaven.

 

Say: This Is The Sealed And Mystic Scroll,  The Repository Of God's

Irrevocable Decree,  Bearing The Words Which The Finger Of Holiness Hath

Traced,  That Lay Wrapt Within The Veil Of Impenetrable Mystery,  And Hath

Now Been Sent Down As A Token Of The Grace Of Him Who Is The Almighty,  The

Ancient Of Days. In It Have We Decreed The Destinies Of All The Dwellers

Of The Earth And The Denizens Of Heaven,  And Written Down The Knowledge Of

All Things From First To Last. Nothing Whatsoever Can Escape Or Frustrate

Him,  Whether Created In The Past Or To Be Created In The Future,  Could Ye

But Perceive It.

 

Say: The Revelation Sent Down By God Hath Most Surely Been Repeated,  And

The Outstretched Hand Of Our Power Hath Overshadowed All That Are In The

Heavens And All That Are On The Earth. We Have,  Through The Power Of

Truth,  The Very Truth,  Manifested An Infinitesimal Glimmer Of Our

Chapter 7 Pg 82