We cannot be
instructed unless they will teach us; we cannot be rationally
amused, unless they will amuse us; we cannot but have some false
gods of our own, while they set up so many of theirs in all the
public places. The evil consequences of imperfect instruction, the
evil consequences of pernicious neglect, the evil consequences of
unnatural restraint and the denial of humanising enjoyments, will
all come from us, and none of them will stop with us. They will
spread far and wide. They always do; they always have done--just
like the pestilence. I understand so much, I think, at last."
But the Master said again, "O you labouring men! How seldom do we
ever hear of you, except in connection with some trouble!"
"Master," he replied, "I am Nobody, and little likely to be heard of
(nor yet much wanted to be heard of, perhaps), except when there is
some trouble. But it never begins with me, and it never can end
with me. As sure as Death, it comes down to me, and it goes up from
me."
There was so much reason in what he said, that the Bigwig family,
getting wind of it, and being horribly frightened by the late
desolation, resolved to unite with him to do the things that were
right--at all events, so far as the said things were associated with
the direct prevention, humanly speaking, of another pestilence.
But, as their fear wore off, which it soon began to do, they resumed
their falling out among themselves, and did nothing. Consequently
the scourge appeared again--low down as before--and spread
avengingly upward as before, and carried off vast numbers of the
brawlers. But not a man among them ever admitted, if in the least
degree he ever perceived, that he had anything to do with it.
So Nobody lived and died in the old, old, old way; and this, in the
main, is the whole of Nobody's story.
Had he no name, you ask? Perhaps it was Legion. It matters little
what his name was. Let us call him Legion.
If you were ever in the Belgian villages near the field of Waterloo,
you will have seen, in some quiet little church, a monument erected
by faithful companions in arms to the memory of Colonel A, Major B,
Captains C, D and E, Lieutenants F and G, Ensigns H, I and J, seven
non-commissioned officers, and one hundred and thirty rank and file,
who fell in the discharge of their duty on the memorable day. The
story of Nobody is the story of the rank and file of the earth.
They bear their share of the battle; they have their part in the
victory; they fall; they leave no name but in the mass. The march
of the proudest of us, leads to the dusty way by which they go. O!
Let us think of them this year at the Christmas fire, and not forget
them when it is burnt out.
