Читать книгу Growing Up In The West - John Muir - Страница 12

FIVE

BRAND AND RYRIE had dropped in for the evening. They sat in the kitchen talking to Mansie and Jean. The table had been cleared and pushed against the wall. Brand was holding forth as usual.

‘And I tell you you can’t be a Christian without being a Socialist,’ he said, looking across at Mansie with his cold blue eyes. They were so cold that they seemed made of glass.

Mansie looked doubtful. ‘I don’t see that,’ he said.

‘Don’t see that either,’ said Bob Ryrie.

‘That’s because you’ve never thought about it,’ Brand went on. ‘What did Christ say?’

Mrs Manson, sitting in the armchair by the fire, looked up. The tone in which Brand mentioned Christ disquieted her; he brought out the name as he might have brought out ‘Smith’ or ‘Mackay’.

‘What did Christ say? That you’re to love your neighbour as yourself. Is it loving your neighbour to pay him starvation wages, as lots of your churchgoing capitalists do? As I’ve told you before, it’s the churches that have got to be converted first.’

‘Yes, to Socialism,’ said Bob Ryrie, giving Mansie a wink.

‘And why not?’ Jean retorted. She did not even glance at Bob Ryrie, but kept her eyes fixed on Brand.

‘I thought myself that the churches were out for Christianity,’ said Bob, still to Mansie. ‘I may be mistaken, of course.’

Jean shrugged her shoulders.

‘And so they should be,’ Brand seized the lead again. ‘That’s just our quarrel with them. What have they done all these hundreds of years they’ve been in existence? Have they helped the weak? Have they abolished poverty? Look at the slums of Glasgow. You’ve never faced the problem yet. What did Christ say—’

‘In 1872,’ said Tom sarcastically, entering in his stocking soles and going to the fireplace to get his shoes.

‘Tom, Tom, my lamb, you mustna’ say things like that,’ said Mrs Manson, bending down to get his shoes for him or to hide her face.

Brand looked at Tom with blank uncomprehending eyes. ‘What did Christ say?’ he repeated. ‘That we’re all members of one another. That’s what any Socialist will tell you. That’s what we have been preaching for the last twenty years. And they won’t see it. And the Christians are the worst of the lot.’

‘Fine Christians you Socialists are!’ said Tom, pulling on his shoes. ‘I suppose you consider Ben Tillett a Christian?’

‘If he helps the weak he’s a Christian.’

‘“Oh God, strike Lord Devonport dead”!’ Tom intoned, jeeringly. ‘There’s Christianity for you. And he gets a crowd of ignorant navvies to repeat it after him in public.’

Bob Ryrie shook his head at Brand: ‘No, that wasn’t right, you know. A fellow can go a bit too far.’

Brand glanced at Jean; then he turned to Tom: ‘I’d like to ask you a question. Are you on Lord Devonport’s side or on Ben Tillett’s?’

‘I’m on the side of the poor devils that are starving on account of Devonport’s and Tillett’s damn foolishness.’

‘That’s all very well; but who’s fighting for better pay for them, and who’s fighting against it?’

‘I’m for better pay all the time, but—’

‘Wait a minute. What did Ben Tillett mean when he prayed to God to strike Devonport dead? Did he have any ill-will against Devonport? Not at all. He wanted to stop all these men and their families from starving. There’s thousands of women and children starving because of Lord Devonport. You never think of them; you only think of him.’

‘Oh, you can twist anything round,’ said Tom, bending his red face over the shoes. ‘When a Socialist does a damned measly action it’s bound to be right!’

‘I think it was a silly thing to do,’ said Jean. ‘Besides, if you think it was right, God evidently didn’t, for He didn’t answer their prayer.’

Tom laughed. ‘That’s logic for you, Brand,’ he said. ‘See if you can find an answer to that.’ He got up and walked out, and presently the front door slammed.

Brand seemed taken aback. Then he looked across at Mansie again: ‘Well, as I was saying—’