Страница 51 из 91
“Ah, Captain Burton, you have hit the nail on the head. TheEugenicists may be wrong in their approach, but they are correct intheir assessment that our society, in its present divided form,must either change or die. It is what prompted me to bring Darwin'stheory into the picture.”
“How so, Herbert?”
“You see, when the mechanism of natural selection is transposedfrom the biological to the social arena, we can immediately seethat our interdependence has become so extreme that evolutionca
Spencer opened his eyes again and turned them toward AdmiralLord Nelson, who was standing in his usual position by thebureau.
“The idea that the Empire is progressive is an insidious myth. Amyth! Look at that brass man! It is our tools that are evolving,not us! If anything, we are going in the opposite direction. Whilean increasingly exclusive elite are gathering information aboutways in which the world might function, the ever-expanding majorityare becoming ever more proficient in a single field of endeavourwhile comprehending less and less about anything else.”
Swinburne paraphrased something Burton had said on the eveningof the Brundleweed robbery: “The acquisition of knowledge hasbecome too intimidating a prospect for them, so they shun it infavour of faith.”
“Sadly so,” said Spencer. “There is a principle which is a baragainst all information, which is proof against all arguments, andwhich ca
“Thus it is, gentlemen, that the masses are not only kept fromthe knowledge that would aid their ability to adapt and evolve, butthey also actively reject it. Minds have become trammelled byingrained social conditions. Working-class parents instill in theirchildren the concept that reality offers nothing but hardship, thatpoverty always beckons, and that small rewards can be achieved onlythrough strife and labour. Why should they teach differently when,under those same conditions, they themselves have survived? Thechild takes this as the unquestionable truth of the world.Opportunities are not recognised. The desire for change remainswithin the realm of dreams. Adaptability is devalued. Evolution ishalted.”
Spencer's face suddenly dropped into an expression of abjectmisery.
“I'm ru
His arms suddenly dropped and dangled over the sides of hischair, his head nodded forward, and he emitted a loud snore.
“Good lord!” Swinburne exclaimed.
“Asleep,” Burton noted. “What an extraordinary man!”
“I say, Richard, what do you make of all that?”
Burton reached for his cigar case. “I think this warrants atwo-Manila muse, Algy. Sit quietly, would you, while I give it aponder.”
Sitting quietly didn't come naturally to the diminutive poet buthe gritted his teeth and managed to remain silent for ten minuteswhile Spencer snored and Burton smoked.
“Fascinating!” Burton said, speaking at last.
Herbert Spencer snorted and looked up. “Hallo, Boss! Did I takeforty winks?”
“You did, Herbert. Does that always happen after youphilosophise?”
“Yus. It exhausts me bloomin’ brain. How did I do? I hope Ididn't humiliate meself.”
“Humiliate?” Swinburne cried. “Good lord, no, Herbert! You didsplendidly! You are absolutely remarkable!”
Burton blew out a plume of tobacco smoke and said, “Forgive thequestion, Herbert-I mean no offence-but why on earth aren't you asensation? With an intellect like yours, you should be writingbooks and touring universities!”
Spencer shrugged and tapped the side of his head. “When a man'sknowledge ain't in order, the more of it he has, the greater is hisconfusion.” He looked at Admiral Lord Nelson and sighed. “I shouldbe more like him! There's one what's got an ordered mind!”
“But no knowledge, Herbert,” Burton said. “No knowledge at all.So do you mean to say that your thinking processes are more usuallyin disarray?”
“Yus, just that. When I sits down an’ talks, it's all fine, butfor most o’ the time, me brainbox is a right old jumble.”
“Hmm. I wonder if that has some bearing on your immunity to theTichborne influence?”
“Richard, that doesn't make sense,” Swinburne objected. “In themain, it's the working classes who've come out in support of theClaimant, which suggests they're most affected by whatever thisemanation is. If a disordered mind is immune, then the workingclasses have ordered minds and most of London's gentry, includingyourself, don't!”
“No, Algy, that's not it at all. Let me pose a question: whatwould you be if you weren't a poet?”
“Dead.”
“Seriously.”
“I am serious. There's nothing else I could be. I was born apoet. I think like a poet. I act like a poet. I look like a poet.I'm a poet.”
“Accepted. By contrast, Herbert here, when we first met him,made it quite clear that he wasn't at all sure that he was cut outto be a philosopher.”
“It's no way to earn a livin’, that's for certain,” Spencermuttered.
“As for me,” Burton continued, “I've never possessed a clearidea of my function in society. I've been a soldier, a spy, ageographer, an interpreter, an explorer, an author, a surveyor, andnow the king's agent, whatever the blazes that is. As for thiscountry's gentry, I think you'll find that they mostly have a sensethat life is filled with options; that, in terms of what theyactually do with their time, there are few limitations.”
“Herbert used the word ‘trammelled.’ Are you suggesting that thetrammelled mind is the susceptible mind?”
“Precisely.”
“Fu
“It's not that your mind or imagination is in any respectconfined, Algy. It's simply that you've never given considerationto the notion of doing anything else. You even offered yourservices as my assistant because you felt the danger involved wouldcure your e
“Which it has. You suspect, then, that the black diamondssomehow break down the mental structures that keep a mindcha
“Yes. Remember the line in the poem? Vexations in the poorenables. And what about Edwin Brundleweed's story of how, theafternoon before the robbery, he suddenly and inexplicably feltdissatisfied with his lot in life?”
“But what's it all about, Richard? What's the point?”
“Judging by today's events, I'd say the point is chaos; maybeeven insurgency-an assault against the very fabric of our society.I would even go so far as to say that the British Empire is underattack.”
“My hat! By a foreign power?”
“Or a budding despot. You understand now why John Speke canprobably be discounted?”
Swinburne nodded. “Unless it's the Prussians. You did say he'dgone to Prussia. On the other hand, our ghost is Russian.”
Burton asked Admiral Lord Nelson to top up their cups from thecoffee pot and they sat in silence for a few moments.
“Are we on the brink of a revolution?” Swinburne whispered.“Think of it! A reign of terror could descend on us just as it didon France. We might end up under the rule of an abominable tyrantlike Napoleon!”
“Or we might not,” Spencer muttered. “Would it be so bad if theworkin’ man-an’ woman, I might add-gained some measure of power?Don't you think it's becomin’ a matter of urgency that theydo?”