The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 358: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE MYSTERIES. was even ferocious. “By the living God!” he ex- elaimed, in a tone of wild exultation—his eyes flashing fire, his nostrils dilating, and his whole form appearing to expand into the dignity of god-like proportions; so that this son of toil—this man of the people—this obscure and starving mechanic became an object terrible to gaze upon in the glory of his wrath and the sublimity of his indignation :—* by the living God!” he cried, “I will submit to all these wrongs no more! Patience is exhausted—and endurance has reached that point when it becomes a crime! Whence are we to obtain food save from those who have self-appropriated the fruits of the earth? Who shall dare tell me that starvation is a doom for which we have no right to reproach our fellow-creatures? Against whom, then, must our reproaches be levelled? Not against the Al- mighty——Oh! no—we cannot perpetrate such a tremendous impiety nor give utterance to such an appalling blasphemy! And yet, since the earth yields enough to maintain all who are upon it, there is a diabolical injustice somewhere when a whole family is perishing through want. Tell me then, wife—you who say that my language is dreadful— tell me in which direction we are to look for the fountain of that injustice. I have already said that we dare not complain against God: and therefore we must accuse Man. Yes—the favoured few are our enemies—the oligarchy are our foes. The bread which by right belongs to my children is now in the mansions of the rich: they have stolen it from me! Oh! my beloved babes,” exclaimed the man, in a voice of rending agony mingled with savage vindic- tiveness, “the food to which ye are justly entitled, has been snatched away from you by the usurpers and the tyrants who have monopolised all the elegances of life and refuse us even the necessaries! But this shall endure no longer: I will not kiss the hand that strikes me! Forbearance becomes a flagrant cowardice—and I am resolved how to act. Hear me, therefore, my dear wife—thou partner of my woes and suflerings,—hear me also, ye well- beloved children, victims of an accursed condition of society which blesses the few at the expense of the many,—hear me, I say,” continued Melmoth, raising his voice until it filled that dismantled garret like the rage of the whirlwind and the fury of the storm,—“ hear me while I proclaim a war to the knife against those whom I regard as my enemies—a crusade without quarter against the oppressors of the millions and the usurpers of their rights—a combat to the death against the miscreants who have made God's earth a paradise for themselves and a hell for all the rest!” “James—my God! he is raving!” cried the wretched Mrs. Melmoth, now falling upon her knees before her husband—an example which was instantaneously followed by the two boys and the young girl; and, sobbing bitterly, they all clung round the half-maddened man, who still remained standing in the midst of that starving, woe-begone, perishing family. “No, wife—I am not raving,” he exclaimed, his countenance suddenly softening into an expression of boundless compassion and love, as he bent his looks upon those who thus knelt around him. “ But I have awoke from a dreain—an idle drea~—the dream that what the world calls honesty was indeed some- thing to be admired, practised, and persevered in. Oh! it was a grand stroke of policy for the spoliators ot3 and plunderers of the millions to invent that word honesty—to proclaim it as a cardinal virtue—to in- vest it with even a halo of divine sanctity—to have it preached from the pulpit, written in the laws, and advocated hy the press,—oh! it was a master-piece of ingenuity for ensuring to the few the safe possession and the secure enjoyment of all that they have plundered from the many. But henceforth I dis- card the doctrine—I scatter to the winds the mo- rality which it inculecates—and I will become what the world denominates a robber and a thief!” “Oh! no—recall that dreadful menace—recall it, ITimplore you!” shrieked forth the almost heart- broken wife. “ Add not to the misery of our present condition ——” “ Father—dear father—do what mother asks you!” exclaimed the children, in united enireaties of an- guished fervour. “ Pray do not tell us that you will become a robber. It is wicked to be a thief—and you yourself have often told us so, dear father !” “ Yes—but I was a fool—an insensate fool!” cried Melmoth, driven to desperation and pursuing the terrible current of thoughts which had sprung up in his fevered brain and had acquired a complete mas- tery over his imagination. “ Do not fancy, my be- loved wife—do not suppose, my dear children—that I will any longer suffer myself to be the victim of those theories which the rich have invented as a pro- tection for their ill-got gains. They have plundered us—and yet they dare to maintain that it would be dishonest were we to take back from them the fruit of their own rascality: they have practised a tre- mendous system of spoliation against ourselves—and yet we are told that it will be wrong to assume the ageressive in return! ‘The word honesty constitutes the barrier with which they have surrounded the ac- cumulated produce of their own misdeeds: and the word dishonesty is the bugbear with which they seek to frighten away all those who might endeavour to molest them in the enjoyment of their usurped pos- sessions. They have taken away the bread from me—from you—from all of us;—and I will recover back a portion of what is our due. They have made laws to justify their spoliation and their wrong; and I should be a coward were « not to set those laws at defiance. From this moment, then, do I proclaim war against our oppressors—ravage against the ravagers—invasion against the invaders—desolation against the desolators: yes—by the living God!” thundered Melmoth, now worked up to an appalling state of excitement, and gesticulating ferociously,--— “J will plunder the plunderers—I will despoil the spoliators—I will play the brigand against the titled and proudly-born banditti of this realm!” And exhausted with the violence of tone and ges- ticulation which had accompanied this dreadful harangue, Melmoth sank upon the empty chest, gasping for breath and every vein in his forehead swollen almost to bursting. Then piteous and heart-rending indeed was it to behold the anguished wife and weeping children gathering around that man on whose head lay the heavy responsibilities of a husband and a father,— yes, gathering around him with despair depicted upon their wan and emaciated countenauces—ex- tending towards him their thin and fleshless hands —and addressing him in prayers of the most pas- sionate entreaty! The woman held up towards him the poor, frail, half-famished babe, as sbe adjured him to discard the terrible thoughts to which he had (C(O) nn) (G 6)(0)©) KS (CO)