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were improvident； he deserved to make a fortune。〃
〃Granted； but he didn't make a fortune。 He took a fortune that
others made。 At Cambridge they taught me that his profits were
the reward of abstinencethe abstinence which enabled him to
save。 That quieted my conscience until I began to wonder why one
man should make another pay him for exercising one of the
virtues。 Then came the question： what did my father abstain from？
The workmen abstained from meat； drink； fresh air； good clothes；
decent lodging； holidays； money； the society of their families；
and pretty nearly everything that makes life worth living； which
was perhaps the reason why they usually died twenty years or so
sooner than people in our circumstances。 Yet no one rewarded them
for their abstinence。 The reward came to my father； who abstained
from none of these things； but indulged in them all to his
heart's content。 Besides； if the money was the reward of
abstinence； it seemed logical to infer that he must abstain ten
times as much when he bad fifty thousand a year as when he had
only five thousand。 Here was a problem for my young mind。
Required； something from which my father abstained and in which
his workmen exceeded； and which he abstained from more and more
as he grew richer and richer。 The only thing that answered this
description was hard work； and as I never met a sane man willing
to pay another for idling； I began to see that these prodigious
payments to my father were extorted by force。 To do him justice；
he never boasted of abstinence。 He considered himself a
hard…worked man； and claimed his fortune as the reward of his
risks； his calculations； his anxieties； and the journeys he had
to make at all seasons and at all hours。 This comforted me
somewhat until it occurred to me that if he had lived a century
earlier； invested his money in a horse and a pair of pistols； and
taken to the road； his objectthat of wresting from others the
fruits of their labor without rendering them an equivalentwould
have been exactly the same； and his risk far greater； for it
would have included risk of the gallows。 Constant travelling with
the constable at his heels； and calculations of the chances of
robbing the Dover mail； would have given him his fill of activity
and anxiety。 On the whole； if Jesse Trefusis； M。P。； who died a
millionaire in his palace at Kensington； had been a highwayman； I
could not more heartily loathe the social arrangements that
rendered such a career as his not only possible； but eminently
creditable to himself in the eyes of his fellows。 Most men make
it their business to imitate him； hoping to become rich and idle
on the same terms。 Therefore I turn my back on them。 I cannot sit
at their feasts knowing how much they cost in human misery； and
seeing how little they produce of human happiness。 What is your
opinion； my treasure？〃
Henrietta seemed a little troubled。 She smiled faintly； and said
caressingly； 〃It was not your fault； Sidney。 _I_ don't blame
you。〃
〃Immortal powers！〃 he exclaimed； sitting bolt upright and
appealing to the skies； 〃here is a woman who believes that the
only concern all this causes me is whether she thinks any the
worse of me personally on account of it！〃
〃No； no； Sidney。 It is not I alone。 Nobody thinks the worse of
you for it。〃
〃Quite so；〃 he returned； in a polite frenzy。 〃Nobody sees any
harm in it。 That is precisely the mischief of it。〃
〃Besides；〃 she urged； 〃your mother belonged to one of the oldest
families in England。〃
〃And what more can man desire than wealth with descent from a
county family！ Could a man be happier than I ought to be； sprung
as I am from monopolists of all the sources and instruments of
productionof land on the one side； and of machinery on the
other？ This very ground on which we are resting was the property
of my mother's father。 At least the law allowed him to use it as
such。 When he was a boy； there was a fairly prosperous race of
peasants settled here； tilling the soil； paying him rent for
permission to do so； and making enough out of it to satisfy his
large wants and their own narrow needs without working themselves
to death。 But my grandfather was a shrewd man。 He perceived that
cows and sheep produced more money by their meat and wool than
peasants by their husbandry。 So he cleared the estate。 That is；
he drove the peasants from their homes； as my father did
afterwards in his Scotch deer forest。 Or； as his tombstone has
it； he developed the resources of his country。 I don't know what
became of the peasants； HE didn't know； and； I presume； didn't
care。 I suppose the old ones went into the workhouse； and the
young ones crowded the towns； and worked for men like my father
in factories。 Their places were taken by cattle； which paid for
their food so well that my grandfather； getting my father to take
shares in the enterprise； hired laborers on the Manchester terms
to cut that canal for him。 When it was made； he took toll upon
it； and his heirs still take toll； and the sons of the navvies
who dug it and of the engineer who designed it pay the toll when
they have occasion to travel by it； or to purchase goods which
have been conveyed along it。 I remember my grandfather well。 He
was a well…bred man； and a perfect gentleman in his manners； but；
on the whole； I think he was wickeder than my father； who； after
all； was caught in the wheels of a vicious system； and had either
to spoil others or be spoiled by them。 But my grandfatherthe
old rascal！was in no such dilemma。 Master as he was of his bit
of merry England； no man could have enslaved him； and he might at
least have lived and let live。 My father followed his example in
the matter of the deer forest； but that was the climax of his
wickedness； whereas it was only the beginning of my
grandfather's。 Howbeit； whichever bears the palm； there they
were； the types after which we all strive。〃
〃Not all； Sidney。 Not we two。 I hate tradespeople and country
squires。 We belong to the artistic and cultured classes； and we
can keep aloof from shopkeepers。〃
〃Living； meanwhile； at the rate of several thousand a year on
rent and interest。 No； my dear； this is the way of those people
who insist that when they are in heaven they shall be spared the
recollection of such a place as hell； but are quite content that
it shall exist outside their consciousness。 I respect my father
moreI mean I despise him lessfor doing his own sweating and
filching than I do the sensitive sluggards and cowards who lent
him their money to sweat and filch with； and asked no questions
provided the interest was paid punctually。 And as to your friends
the artists； they are the worst of all。〃
〃Oh； Sidney； you are determined not to be pleased。 Artists don't
keep factories。〃
〃No； but the factory is only a part of the machinery of the
system。 Its basis is the tyranny of brain force； which； among
civilized men； is allowed to do what muscular force does among
schoolboys and savages。 The schoolboy proposition is： 'I am
stronger than you； therefore you shall fag for me。' Its grown up
form is： 'I am cleverer than you； therefore you shall fag for
me。' The state of things we produce by submitting to this； bad
enough even at first； becomes intolerable when the mediocre or
foolish descendants of the clever fellows claim to have inherited
their privileges。 Now； no men are greater sticklers for the
arbitrary dominion of genius and talent than your artists。 The
great painter is not satisfied with being sought after and
admired because his hands can do more than ordinary hands； which
they truly can； but he wants to be fed as if his stomach needed
more food than ordinary stomachs； which it does not。 A day's work
is a day's work； neither more nor less； and the man who does it
needs a day's sustenance； a night's repose； and due leisure；
whether he be painter or ploughman。 But the rascal of a painter；
poet； novelist； or other voluptuary in labor； is not content with
his advantage in popular esteem over the ploughman； he also wants
an advantage in money； as if there were more hours in a day spent
in the studio or library than in the field； or as if he needed
more food to enable him to do his work than the ploughman to
enable him to do his。 He talks of the higher quality of his work；
as if the higher quality of it were of his own makingas if it
gave him a right to work less for his neighbor than his neighbor
works for himas if the ploughman could not do better without
him than he without the ploughmanas if the value of the most
celebrated pictures has not been questioned more than that of any
straight furrow in the arable worldas if it did not take an
apprenticeship of as many years to train the hand and eye of a
mason or blacksmith as of an artistas if； in short； the fellow
were a god； as canting brain worshippers have for years past been
assuring him he is。 Artists arc the high priests of the modern
Moloch。 Nine out of ten of them are diseased creatures； just sane
enough to trade on their own neuroses。 The only quality o？theirs
which extorts my respect is a certain sublime selfishness which
makes them willing to starve and to let their families starve
sooner than