Mike Fletcher by George Moore (ebook pc reader .txt) 📕

Beautiful And So Interesting,  And He Believed That If She Had Loved

Him They Both Would Have Found Content.

"Do You Remember,  Harding,  That It Was In This Room We Saw Lady Helen

Alive For The Last Time? What A Tragedy That Was! Do You Remember The

Room In The Alexandra Hotel,  The Firelight,  With The Summer Morning

Coming Through The Venetian Blinds? Somehow There Was A Sense Of

Sculpture,  Even Without The Beautiful Body. Seven Years Have Passed.

She Has Enjoyed Seven Years Of Peace And Rest; We Have Endured Seven

Years Of Fret And Worry. Life Of Course Was Never Worth Living,  But

The Common Stupidity Of The Nineteenth Century Renders Existence For

Those Who May See Into The Heart Of Things Almost Unbearable. I

Confess That Every Day Man's Stupidity Seems To Me More And More

Miraculous. Indeed It May Be Said To Be Divine,  So Inherent And So

Unalterable Is It; And To Understand It We Need Not Stray From The

Question In Hand--Suicide. A Man Is Houseless,  He Is Old,  He Is

Friendless,  He Is Starving,  He Is Assailed In Every Joint By Cruel

Disease; To Save Himself From Years Of Suffering He Lights A Pan Of

Charcoal; And,  After Carefully Considering All The Circumstances,  The

Jury Returns A Verdict Of Suicide While In A State Of Temporary

Insanity. Out Of Years Of Insanity Had Sprung A Supreme Moment Of

Sanity,  And No One Understands It. The Common Stupidity,  I Should Say

The Common Insanity,  Of The World On The Subject Of Suicide Is Quite

Comic. A Man May Destroy His Own Property,  Which Would Certainly Be

Of Use To Some One,  But He May Not Destroy His Own Life,  Which

Possibly Is Of Use To No One; And If Two Men Conspire To Commit

Suicide And One Fails,  The Other Is Tried For Murder And Hanged. Can

The Mind Conceive More Perfect Nonsense?"

"I Cannot Say I Agree With You," Said Harding; "Man's Aversion To

Suicide Seems To Me Perfectly Comprehensible."

"Does It Really! Well,  I Should Like To Hear You Develop That

Paradox."

"Your Contention Is That It Is Inconceivable That In An Already

Over-Crowded Society Men Should Not Look Rather With Admiration Than

With Contempt On Those Who,  Convinced That They Block The Way,

Surrender Their Places To Those Better Able To Fill Them; And It Is

To You Equally Inconceivable That A Man Should Be Allowed To Destroy

His Property And Not His Person. Your Difficulty Seems To Me To Arise

From Your Not Taking Into Consideration The Instinctive Nature Of

Man. The Average Man May Be Said To Be Purely Instinctive. In Popular

Opinion--That Is To Say,  In His Own Opinion--He Is Supposed To Be A

Reasonable Being; But A Short Acquaintance Shows Him To Be Illumined

With No Faintest Ray Of Reason. His Sense Of Right And Wrong Is

Purely Instinctive; Talk To Him About It,  And You Will See That You

Might As Well Ask A Sheep-Dog Why He Herds The Sheep."

"Quite So; But I Do Not See How That Explains His Aversion To

Suicide."

"I Think It Does. There Are Two Forces In Human Nature--Instinct And

Reason. The First Is The Very Principle Of Life,  And Exists In All We

See--Give It A Philosophic Name,  And Call It The 'Will To Live.' All

Acts,  Therefore,  Proceed From Instinct Or From Reason. Suicide Is

Clearly Not An Instinctive Act,  It Is Therefore A Reasonable Act; And

Being Of All Acts The Least Instinctive,  It Is Of Necessity The Most

Reasonable; Reason And Instinct Are Antagonistic; And The Extreme

Point Of Their Antagonism Must Clearly Be Suicide. One Is The

Assertion Of Life,  The Other Is The Denial Of Life. The World Is

Mainly Instinctive,  And Therefore Very Tolerant To All Assertions Of

The Will To Live; It Is In Other Words Full Of Toleration For Itself;

No One Is Reproved For Bringing A Dozen Children Into The World,

Though He Cannot Support Them,  Because To Reprove Him Would Involve A

Partial Condemnation Of The Will To Live; And The World Will Not

Condemn Itself.

"If Suicide Merely Cut The Individual Thread Of Life Our Brothers

Would Rejoice. Nature Is Concerned In The Preservation Of The

Species,  Not In The Preservation Of The Individual; But Suicide Is

More Than The Disappearance Of An Individual Life,  It Is A Protest

Against All Life,  Therefore Man,  In The Interest Of The Life Of The

Race,  Condemns The Suicide. The Struggle For Life Is Lessened By

Every Death,  But The Injury Inflicted On The Desire Of Life Is

Greater; In Other Words,  Suicide Is Such A Stimulant To The Exercise

Of Reason (Which Has Been Proved Antagonistic To Life),  That Man,  In

Defence Of Instinct,  Is Forced To Condemn Suicide.

"And It Is Curious To Note That Of All The Manners Of Death Which May

Bring Them Fortune,  Men Like Suicide The Least; A Man Would Prefer To

Inherit A Property Through His Father Falling A Prey To A Disease

That Tortured Him For Months Rather Than He Should Blow His Brains

Out. If He Were To Sound His Conscience,  His Conscience Would Tell

Him That His Preference Resulted From Consideration For His Father's

Soul. For As Man Acquired Reason,  Which,  As I Have Shown,  Endangers

The Sovereignty Of The Will To Live,  He Developed Notions Of Eternal

Life,  Such Notions Being Necessary To Check And Act As A Drag Upon

The New Force That Had Been Introduced Into His Life. He Says Suicide

Clashes With The Principle Of Eternal Life. So It Does,  So It Does,

He Is Quite Right,  But How Delightful And Miraculously Obtuse. We

Must Not Take Man For A Reasoning Animal; Ants And Bees Are Hardly

More Instinctive And Less Reasonable Than The Majority Of Men.

"But Far More Than With Any Ordinary Man Is It Amusing To Discuss

Suicide With A Religionist. The Religionist Does Not Know How To

Defend Himself. If He Is A Roman Catholic He Says The Church Forbids

Suicide,  And That Ends The Matter; But Other Churches Have No Answer

To Make,  For They Find In The Old And New Testament Not A Shred Of

Text To Cover Themselves With. From The First Page Of The Bible To

The Last There Is Not A Word To Say That A Man Does Not Hold His Life

In His Hands,  And May Not End It When He Pleases."

"Why Don't You Write An Article On Suicide? It Would Frighten People

Out Of Their Wits!" Said Mike.

"I Hope He'll Do Nothing Of The Kind," Said A Man Who Had Been

Listening With Bated Breath. "We Should Have Every One Committing

Suicide All Around Us--The World Would Come To An End."

"And Would That Matter Much?" Said Mike,  With A Scornful Laugh. "You

Need Not Be Afraid. No Bit Of Mere Scribbling Will Terminate Life;

The Principle Of Life Is Too Deeply Rooted Ever To Be Uprooted;

Reason Will Ever Remain Powerless To Harm It. Very Seldom,  If Ever,

Has A Man Committed Suicide For Purely Intellectual Reasons. It

Nearly Always Takes The Form Of A Sudden Paroxysm Of Mind. The Will

To Live Is An Almost Unassailable Fortress,  And It Will Remain

Impregnable Everlastingly."

The Entrance Of Some Men,  Talking Loudly Of Betting And Women,

Stopped The Conversation. The Servants Brought Forth The Card-Tables.

Mike Played Several Games Of Écarté,  Cheating Openly,  Braving

Detection. He Did Not Care What Happened,  And Almost Desired The

Violent Scene That Would Ensue On His Being Accused Of Packing The

Cards. But Nothing Happened,  And About One O'clock,  Having Bade The

Last Guest Good-Night,  He Returned To The Dining-Room. The Room In

Its Disorder Of Fruit And Champagne Looked Like A Human Being--Mike

Thought It Looked Like Himself. He Drank A Tumbler Of Champagne And

Returned To The Drawing-Room,  His Pockets Full Of The Money He Had

Swindled From A Young Man. He Threw Himself On A Sofa By The Open

Window And Listened To The Solitude,  Terribly Punctuated By The

Clanging Of The Clocks. All The Roofs Were Defined On The Blue Night,

And He Could Hear The Sound Of Water Falling. The Trees Rose In Vague

Masses Indistinguishable,  And Beyond Was The Immense Brickwork Which

Hugs The Shores. In The River There Were Strange Reflections,  And

Above The River There Were Blood-Red Lamps.

"If I Were To Fling Myself From This Window! ... I Shouldn't Feel

Anything; But I Should Be A Shocking Sight On The Pavement.... Great

Scott! This Silence Is Awful,  And Those Whispering Trees,  And Those

Damned Clocks--Another Half-Hour Of Life Gone. I Shall Go Mad If

Something Doesn't Happen."

There Came A Knock. Who Could It Be? It Did Not Matter,  Anything Was

Better Than Silence. He Threw Open The Door,  And A Pretty Girl,

Almost A Child,  Bounded Into The Room,  Making It Ring With Her

Laughter.

"Oh,  Mike! Darling Mike,  I Have Left Home; I Couldn't Live Without

You; ... Aren't You Glad To See Me?"

"Of Course I'm Glad To See You."

"Then Why Don't You Kiss Me?" She Said,  Jumping On His Knees And

Throwing Her Arms About His Neck.

"What A Wicked Little Girl You Are!"

"Wicked! It Is You Who Make Me Wicked,  My Own Darling Mike. I Ran

Away From Home For You,  All For You; I Should Have Done It For Nobody

Else.... I Ran Away The Day--The Day Before Yesterday. My Aunt Was

Annoying Me For Going Out In The Lane With Some Young Fellows. I Said

Nothing For A Long Time. At Last I Jumps Up,  And I Says That I Would

Stand It No Longer; I Told Her Straight; I Says You'll Never See Me

Again,  Never No More; I'll Go Away To London To Some One Who Is

Awfully Nice. And Of Course I Meant You,  My Own Darling Mike." And

The Room Rang With Girlish Laughter.

"But Where Are You Staying?" Said Mike,  Seriously Alarmed.

"Where Am I Staying? I'm Staying With A Young Lady Friend Of Mine Who

Lives In Drury Lane,  So I'm Not Far From You. You Can Come And See

Me," She Said,  And Her Face Lit With Laughter. "We Are Rather Hard

Up. If You Could Lend Me A Sovereign I Should Be So Much Obliged."

"Yes,  I'll Lend You A Sovereign,  Ten If You Like; But I Hope You'll

Go Back To Your Aunt. I Know The World Better Than You,  My Dear

Little Flossy,  And I Tell You That Drury Lane Is No Place