The truth was that Samuel, in discussing the theory, had applied it
only to himself. But now he pictured himself going home to tell Mrs.
Stedman that she must give up her futile effort, and take herself and
her three children out of the way of the progress of the race. And he
realized that he could never do it--he was not equal to the task.
Doubtless, it was because he was one of the unfit. It would need some
one who did not know them, some one who could approach the matter from
the purely scientific standpoint.
Then there was another difficulty graver yet. Did not this doctrine
really point to suicide? Would it not be the simplest solution of his
problem if he were to climb down to the river, and tie a stone about
his neck, and jump in? Samuel wished that he had thought to ask the
professor about this. For the idea frightened him; he had a distinct
impression of having been taught that it was a dreadful sin to take
one's own life.
The trouble seemed to lie in the dull and unromantic nature of the
life about him. If only there had been some way to die nobly and
heroically for the good of others. If only there was a war, for
instance, and a call for men to perish on the ramparts! Or a terrible
pestilence, so that one could be a nurse! But there was nothing at all
but this low starving to death--and while other people lived in
plenty. Samuel thought of the chance of finding some work which
involved grave peril to life or limb; but apparently even the danger
posts were filled.
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