“Yes,” said Professor Stewart.
“And then,” said Samuel, “I suppose it is they who have chosen you?”
Again the professor darted a suspicious glance at his questioner. “Er—one might put it that way,” he said.
“Well, then, that is your right to teach; and you could explain it. Then you could say to these men: 'There are too many of you; you aren't needed; and you must be removed.'”
But the professor only shook his head. “It wouldn't do,” he said. And Samuel, pondering and seeking as ever, came to a sudden comprehension.
“I see,” he exclaimed. “What is needed is action!”
“Action?”
“Yes—it's for us who are beaten to teach it; and to teach it in our lives. It's a sort of revival that is needed, you see.”
“But I don't see the need,” laughed the other, interested in spite of himself.
“That's because you aren't one of us!” cried Samuel vehemently. “Nobody else can understand—nobody! It's easy to be one of the successes of life. You have a comfortable home and plenty to eat and all. But when you've failed—when you're down and out—then you have to bear hunger and cold and sickness. And there is grief and fear and despair—you can have no idea of it! Why, I've met a little girl in this town. She works in the cotton mill, and it's just killed her by inches, body and soul. And even so, she can only get half a day's work; and the mother is trying to support the little children by sewing—and they're all just dying of slow starvation. This very morning they asked me to stay to breakfast, and I refused, because I knew they had only some bread and a few potatoes, and it wasn't enough for one person. You see, it's so slow—it's such a terribly long process—this starving people off by inches. And keeping them always tormented by hope. Don't you see, Professor Stewart? And just because you don't come out honestly and teach them the truth. Because you won't say to them: 'The world is too full; and you've got to get out of the way, so as to give us a chance.' Why, look, sir—you defeat your own purposes! These people stay, and they keep on having more children, and everything gets worse instead of better; and they have diseases and vices—they ruin the whole world. What's the use of having a world if it's got to be like this town—crowded with hovels full of dirty people, and sick people, and starving and miserable people? I can't see how you who live up here on the heights can enjoy yourselves while such things continue.”