Chapter 41

by Herman Melville

　　ENDING WITH A RUPTURE OF THE HYPOTHESIS."With what heart," cried Frank, still in character, "have you told methis story? A story I can no way approve; for its moral, if accepted,would drain me of all reliance upon my last stay, and, therefore, of mylast courage in life. For, what was that bright view of China Aster buta cheerful trust that, if he but kept up a brave heart, worked hard, andever hoped for the best, all at last would go well? If your purpose,Charlie, in telling me this story, was to pain me, and keenly, you havesucceeded; but, if it was to destroy my last confidence, I praise Godyou have not.""Confidence?" cried Charlie, who, on his side, seemed with his wholeheart to enter into the spirit of the thing, "what has confidence to dowith the matter? That moral of the story, which I am for commending toyou, is this: the folly, on both sides, of a friend's helping a friend.For was not that loan of Orchis to China Aster the first step towardstheir estrangement? And did it not bring about what in effect was theenmity of Orchis? I tell you, Frank, true friendship, like otherprecious things, is not rashly to be meddled with. And what moremeddlesome between friends than a loan? A regular marplot. For how canyou help that the helper must turn out a creditor? And creditor andfriend, can they ever be one? no, not in the most lenient case; since,out of lenity to forego one's claim, is less to be a friendly creditorthan to cease to be a creditor at all. But it will not do to rely uponthis lenity, no, not in the best man; for the best man, as the worst, issubject to all mortal contingencies. He may travel, he may marry, he mayjoin the Come-Outers, or some equally untoward school or sect, not tospeak of other things that more or less tend to new-cast the character.And were there nothing else, who shall answer for his digestion, uponwhich so much depends?""But Charlie, dear Charlie----""Nay, wait.--You have hearkened to my story in vain, if you do not seethat, however indulgent and right-minded I may seem to you now, that isno guarantee for the future. And into the power of that uncertainpersonality which, through the mutability of my humanity, I mayhereafter become, should not common sense dissuade you, my dear Frank,from putting yourself? Consider. Would you, in your present need, bewilling to accept a loan from a friend, securing him by a mortgage onyour homestead, and do so, knowing that you had no reason to feelsatisfied that the mortgage might not eventually be transferred into thehands of a foe? Yet the difference between this man and that man is notso great as the difference between what the same man be to-day and whathe may be in days to come. For there is no bent of heart or turn ofthought which any man holds by virtue of an unalterable nature or will.Even those feelings and opinions deemed most identical with eternalright and truth, it is not impossible but that, as personal persuasions,they may in reality be but the result of some chance tip of Fate's elbowin throwing her dice. For, not to go into the first seeds of things, andpassing by the accident of parentage predisposing to this or that habitof mind, descend below these, and tell me, if you change this man'sexperiences or that man's books, will wisdom go surety for his unchangedconvictions? As particular food begets particular dreams, so particularexperiences or books particular feelings or beliefs. I will hear nothingof that fine babble about development and its laws; there is nodevelopment in opinion and feeling but the developments of time andtide. You may deem all this talk idle, Frank; but conscience bids meshow you how fundamental the reasons for treating you as I do.""But Charlie, dear Charlie, what new notions are these? I thought thatman was no poor drifting weed of the universe, as you phrased it; that,if so minded, he could have a will, a way, a thought, and a heart of hisown? But now you have turned everything upside down again, with aninconsistency that amazes and shocks me.""Inconsistency? Bah!""There speaks the ventriloquist again," sighed Frank, in bitterness.Illy pleased, it may be, by this repetition of an allusion littleflattering to his originality, however much so to his docility, thedisciple sought to carry it off by exclaiming: "Yes, I turn over day andnight, with indefatigable pains, the sublime pages of my master, andunfortunately for you, my dear friend, I find nothing there that leadsme to think otherwise than I do. But enough: in this matter theexperience of China Aster teaches a moral more to the point thananything Mark Winsome can offer, or I either.""I cannot think so, Charlie; for neither am I China Aster, nor do Istand in his position. The loan to China Aster was to extend hisbusiness with; the loan I seek is to relieve my necessities.""Your dress, my dear Frank, is respectable; your cheek is not gaunt. Whytalk of necessities when nakedness and starvation beget the only realnecessities?""But I need relief, Charlie; and so sorely, that I now conjure you toforget that I was ever your friend, while I apply to you only as afellow-being, whom, surely, you will not turn away.""That I will not. Take off your hat, bow over to the ground, andsupplicate an alms of me in the way of London streets, and you shall notbe a sturdy beggar in vain. But no man drops pennies into the hat of afriend, let me tell you. If you turn beggar, then, for the honor ofnoble friendship, I turn stranger.""Enough," cried the other, rising, and with a toss of his shouldersseeming disdainfully to throw off the character he had assumed."Enough. I have had my fill of the philosophy of Mark Winsome as putinto action. And moonshiny as it in theory may be, yet a very practicalphilosophy it turns out in effect, as he himself engaged I should find.But, miserable for my race should I be, if I thought he spoke truth whenhe claimed, for proof of the soundness of his system, that the study ofit tended to much the same formation of character with the experiencesof the world.--Apt disciple! Why wrinkle the brow, and waste the oilboth of life and the lamp, only to turn out a head kept cool by theunder ice of the heart? What your illustrious magian has taught you, anypoor, old, broken-down, heart-shrunken dandy might have lisped. Pray,leave me, and with you take the last dregs of your inhuman philosophy.And here, take this shilling, and at the first wood-landing buy yourselfa few chips to warm the frozen natures of you and your philosopher by."With these words and a grand scorn the cosmopolitan turned on his heel,leaving his companion at a loss to determine where exactly thefictitious character had been dropped, and the real one, if any,resumed. If any, because, with pointed meaning, there occurred to him,as he gazed after the cosmopolitan, these familiar lines: "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players, Who have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts."