“Talking is a very human way of creating a disturbance. My way and Jah’s way is the way of corruption. We unseat the mind and poison the soul with unsatisfiable desires. But if you wish it I will go with you. We have lit a fire in Tib Street that will burn itself out without us.”
“I should like your company,” replied Mr. Bly. “It helps me to be reminded that Jah has been unjust to more than human beings. It redoubles my fury and kindles my eloquence. I am determined to earn my pound a week and drive Jah out of the land.”
The devil began to draw on his shabby fur coat. Mrs. Martin had been listening to their conversation. She burst in upon them and vowed that her Nick should never, never leave her. With horrible callousness Mr. Nicodemus told her that he was pledged to Mr. Bly, and asked her for his tail. She refused to give it up, and was so stubborn that, at last, after they had argued with her, and pleaded and stormed, and bribed and bullied, she said she would produce his tail if she might go with them; and they consented, for Mr. Nicodemus said that if he were ever returned to power he would be in need of his tail, and indeed would be a ridiculous object without it, his system of damnation being supported by tradition and symbol and ritual.
They had a merry supper-party, and that night took train for the town appointed for Mr. Bly’s first appearance on a political platform.
XI: MAKING A STIR
Where other politicians dealt in statistics, which, after all, are but an intellectual excitement, a kind of mental cats’-cradle, our orator sounded three notes: he appealed to a man’s love of women, his love of children, and led his audience on to hatred of Jah. To the first two they responded, were persuaded that they were as he said, cheated and betrayed, and, though they could not follow him further without losing their heads, they lost them and were filled with hatred. And as Mr. Bly never made any reference either to Government or Opposition his speeches were reported in the newspapers on both sides, and aroused the greatest interest through the country. The well-to-do found breakfast insipid without his utterances, and, to support him, they subscribed largely to the funds of the organisation which promoted his efforts. His salary was raised to two pounds a week on the day when a Conservative organ published his portrait and a leading article on the golden sincerity of the Working Classes.
XII: MAKING A STIRABOUT
Where other orators damned everything from sewing cotton to battleships, and so could not avoid giving offence, Mr. Bly damned only Jah and hurt nobody’s feelings. But he produced an effect. He laid every grievance at Jah’s door, and roused so much enthusiasm that at last he began to believe in his power.
It is not often that the people find a leader, and when they do they expect him to lead. They were impatient for Mr. Bly to reveal to them a line of action, and here he was puzzled. It was one thing (he found) to talk about Jah, another to bring Jah to book. He had no other machinery than that of the Labour Agitators, who had been making elaborate preparations for a strike. Their preparations were excellent, but their followers were reluctant. They could provide them with no adequate motive. In vain did they talk of the dawn of Labour, the Rights of the Worker, and a Place in the Sun; to all these the people preferred the prospect of pay on Saturday. Nothing could stir them, until, at last, at one of Mr. Bly’s meetings when he was being hailed as a leader and implored to lead, and at his wit’s end what to do, upon a whisper from behind, he said:
“Strike! Strike against Jah! You are workers! Why do you work? To feed your children. Your children die. Strike, I say, strike while the iron is hot, the iron that has entered into your souls from the cruel tyranny of Jah! There is no other enemy. You have no other foe....”