English fiction -- 20th century; Short stories, English
He abominated the word “humanitarian.” No plain man wanted to inflict
suffering, especially on himself. He would be the last person to do
any such thing, but the plain facts of life must be considered, and
convenience and property duly safeguarded. He wrote to the papers
perhaps more often on this subject than on any other, and was gratified
to read in their leading articles continual allusion to himself:
“The plain man is not prepared to run the risks which a sentimental
treatment of this subject would undoubtedly involve”; “After all, it
is to the plain man that we must go for the sanity and common sense of
this matter.” For he had no dread in life like that of being called a
sentimentalist. If an instance of cruelty came under his own eyes he
was as much moved as any man, and took immediate steps to manifest his
disapproval. To act thus on his feelings was not at all his idea of
being sentimental. But what he could not stand was making a fuss about
cruelties, as people called them, which had not actually come under his
own plain vision; to be indignant in regard to such _was_ sentimental,
he was sure, involving as it did an exercise of imagination, than which
there was nothing he distrusted more. Some deep instinct no doubt
informed him perpetually that if he felt anything, other than what
disturbed him personally at first hand, he would suffer unnecessarily,
and perhaps be encouraging such public action as might diminish his
comfort. But he was no alarmist, and, on the whole, felt pretty sure
that while he was there, living in Kent, with his plain views, there
was no chance of anything being done that would cause him any serious
inconvenience.
On the woman’s question generally he had long made his position plain.
He would move when the majority moved, and not before. And he expected
all plain men (and women--if there were any, which he sometimes
doubted) to act in the same way. In this policy he felt instinctively,
rather than consciously, that there was no risk. No one--at least, no
one that mattered, no plain, solid person--would move until he did, and
he would not, of course, move until they did; in this way there was a
perfectly plain position. And it was an extraordinary gratification to
him to feel, from the tone of politicians, the pulpit, and the press,
that he had the country with him. He often said to his wife: “One
thing’s plain to me; we shall never have the suffrage till the country
wants it.” But he rarely discussed the question with other women,
having observed that many of them could not keep their tempers when he
gave them his plain view of the matter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account