Born in Exile

Name: Born in Exile
Author: Gissing, George

Gissing, George

England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century

'Where does this phrase come from?' he continued, pointing to a scrap
of paper, used as a book-mark, on which Godwin had pencilled a note.
The words were: '_Foris ut moris, intus ut libet_.'

'It's mentioned there,' Peak replied, 'as the motto of those humanists
who outwardly conformed to the common faith.'

'I see. All very well when the Inquisition was flourishing, but sounds
ignoble nowadays.'

'Do you think so? In a half-civilised age, whether the sixteenth or the
nineteenth century, a wise man may do worse than adopt it.'

'Better be honest, surely?'

Peak stood for a moment as if in doubt, then exclaimed irritably:

'Honest? Honest? Who is or can be honest? Who truly declares himself?
When a man has learnt that truth is indeterminable, how is it more
moral to go about crying that you don't believe a certain dogma than to
concede that the dogma may possibly be true? This new morality of the
agnostics is mere paltry conceit. Why must I make solemn declaration
that I don't believe in absolute knowledge? I might as well be called
upon to inform all my acquaintances how I stand with regard to the
theories of chemical affinity. One's philosophy has nothing to do with
the business of life. If I chose to become a Church of England
clergyman, what moral objection could be made?'

This illustration was so amusing to Moxey, that his surprise at what
preceded gave way to laughter.

'I wonder,' he exclaimed, 'that you never seriously thought of a
profession for which you are so evidently cut out.'

Godwin kept silence; his face had darkened, and he seated himself with
sullen weariness.

'Tell me what you've been doing,' resumed Moxey. 'Why haven't I heard
from you?'

'I should have come in a day or two. I thought you were probably out of
town.'

'Her husband is ill,' said the other, by way of reply. He leaned
forward with his arms upon the table, and gazed at Godwin with eyes of
peculiar brightness.

'Ill, is he?' returned Godwin, with slow interest. 'In the same way as
before?'

'Yes, but much worse.'

Christian paused; and when he again spoke it was hurriedly, confusedly.

'How can I help getting excited about it? How can I behave decently?
You're the only man I ever speak to on the subject, and no doubt I both
weary and disgust you; but I _must_ speak to some one. My nerves are
strung beyond endurance; it's only by speaking that I can ease myself
from the intolerable strain.'

'Have you seen her lately?'

'Yesterday, for a moment, in the street. It's ten months since the last
meeting.'

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

Born in ExileGissing, George

General

Born in Exile

Gissing, George

England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century

'Where does this phrase come from?' he continued, pointing to a scrap
of paper, used as a book-mark, on which Godwin had pencilled a note.
The words were: '_Foris ut moris, intus ut libet_.'

'It's mentioned there,' Peak replied, 'as the motto of those humanists
who outwardly conformed to the common faith.'

'I see. All very well when the Inquisition was flourishing, but sounds
ignoble nowadays.'

'Do you think so? In a half-civilised age, whether the sixteenth or the
nineteenth century, a wise man may do worse than adopt it.'

'Better be honest, surely?'

Peak stood for a moment as if in doubt, then exclaimed irritably:

'Honest? Honest? Who is or can be honest? Who truly declares himself?
When a man has learnt that truth is indeterminable, how is it more
moral to go about crying that you don't believe a certain dogma than to
concede that the dogma may possibly be true? This new morality of the
agnostics is mere paltry conceit. Why must I make solemn declaration
that I don't believe in absolute knowledge? I might as well be called
upon to inform all my acquaintances how I stand with regard to the
theories of chemical affinity. One's philosophy has nothing to do with
the business of life. If I chose to become a Church of England
clergyman, what moral objection could be made?'

This illustration was so amusing to Moxey, that his surprise at what
preceded gave way to laughter.

'I wonder,' he exclaimed, 'that you never seriously thought of a
profession for which you are so evidently cut out.'

Godwin kept silence; his face had darkened, and he seated himself with
sullen weariness.

'Tell me what you've been doing,' resumed Moxey. 'Why haven't I heard
from you?'

'I should have come in a day or two. I thought you were probably out of
town.'

'Her husband is ill,' said the other, by way of reply. He leaned
forward with his arms upon the table, and gazed at Godwin with eyes of
peculiar brightness.

'Ill, is he?' returned Godwin, with slow interest. 'In the same way as
before?'

'Yes, but much worse.'

Christian paused; and when he again spoke it was hurriedly, confusedly.

'How can I help getting excited about it? How can I behave decently?
You're the only man I ever speak to on the subject, and no doubt I both
weary and disgust you; but I _must_ speak to some one. My nerves are
strung beyond endurance; it's only by speaking that I can ease myself
from the intolerable strain.'

'Have you seen her lately?'

'Yesterday, for a moment, in the street. It's ten months since the last
meeting.'

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Born in Exile

Born in Exile

No reviews yet