The doctor looked at him
quizzically, "If I did not know you, my young friend," he remarked,
"I should say that you were as drunk as a lord." And he went up to Eustace and shook him by the shoulder; but Eustace
did not wake. "Queer!" the doctor muttered, sniffing at Eustace's lips; "he hasn't
been drinking." The Soul Of A Policeman

                                  I

Outside, above the uneasy din of the traffic, the sky was glorious
with the far peace of a fine summer evening. Through the upper pane
of the station window Police-constable Bennett, who felt that his
senses at the moment were abnormally keen, recognised with a sinking
heart such reds and yellows as bedecked the best patchwork quilt at
home. By contrast the lights of the superintendent's office were
subdued, so that within the walls of the police-station sounds seemed
of greater importance. Somewhere a drunkard, deprived of his boots,
was drumming his criticism of authority on the walls of his cell. From the next room, where the men off duty were amusing themselves,
there came a steady clicking of billiard-balls and dominoes, broken
now and again by gruff bursts of laughter. And at his very elbow the
superintendent was speaking in that suave voice that reminded Bennett
of grey velvet. "You see, Bennett, how matters stand. I have nothing at all against
your conduct. You are steady and punctual, and I have no doubt that
you are trying to do your duty. But it's very unfortunate that as far
as results go you have nothing to show for your efforts. During the
last three weeks you have not brought in a charge of any description,
and during the same period I find that your colleagues on the beat
have been exceptionally busy. I repeat that I do not accuse you of
neglecting your duty, but these things tell with the magistrates and
convey a general suggestion of slackness." Bennett looked down at his brightly polished boots. His fingers were
sandy and there was soft felt beneath his feet. "I have been afraid of this for some time, sir," he said, "very much
afraid." The superintendent looked at him questioningly. "You have nothing to say?" he said. "I have always tried to do my duty, sir." "I know, I know. But you must see that a certain number of charges,
if not of convictions, is the mark of a smart officer." "Surely you would not have me arrest innocent persons?" "That is a most improper observation," said the superintendent
severely. "I will say no more to you now. But I hope you will take
what I have said as a warning. You must bustle along, Bennett, bustle
along." Outside in the street, Police-constable Bennett was free to reflect
on his unpleasant interview. The superintendent was ambitious and
therefore pompous; he, himself, was unambitious and therefore modest. Left to himself he might have been content to triumph in the
reflection that he had failed to say a number of foolish things, but
the welfare of his wife and children bound him, tiresomely enough for
a dreamer, tightly to the practical. It was clear that if he did not
forthwith produce signs of his efficiency as a promoter of the peace
that welfare would be imperilled. Yet he did not condemn the chance
that had made him a policeman or even the mischance that brought no
guilty persons to his hands. Rather he looked with a gentle curiosity
into the faces of the people who passed him, and wondered why he
could not detect traces of the generally assumed wickedness of the
neighbourhood. These unkempt men and women were thieves and even
murderers, it appeared; but to him they shone as happy youths and
maidens, joyous victims of love's tyranny. As he drew near the street in which he lived this sense of universal
love quickened in his blood and stirred him strangely. It did not
escape his eyes that to the general his uniform was an unfriendly
thing. Men and women paused in their animated chattering till he had
passed, and even the children faltered in their games to watch him
with doubtful eyes. And yet his heart was warm for them; he knew that
he wished them well. Nevertheless, when he saw his house shining in a row of similar
houses, he realised that their attitude was wiser than his. If he was
to be a success as a breadwinner he must wage a sterner war against
these happy, lovable people. It was easy, he had been long enough in
the force to know how easy, to get cases. An intolerant manner, a
little provocative harshness, and the thing was done. Yet with all
his heart he admired the poor for their resentful independence of
spirit. To him this had always been the supreme quality of the
English character; how could he make use of it to fill English gaols? He opened the door of his house, with a sigh on his lips. There came
forth the merry shouting of his children. II

Above the telephone wires the stars dipped at anchor in the cloudless
sky. Down below, in one of the dark, empty streets, Police-constable
Bennett turned the handles of doors and tested the fastenings of
windows, with a complete scepticism as to the value of his labours. Gradually, he was coming to see that he was not one of the few who
are born to rule--to control--their simple neighbours, ambitious only
for breath. Where, if he had possessed this mission, he would have
been eager to punish, he now felt no more than a sympathy that
charged him with some responsibility for the sins of others. He
shared the uneasy conviction of the multitude that human justice, as
interpreted by the inspired minority, is more than a little unjust. The very unpopularity with which his uniform endowed him seemed to
him to express a severe criticism of the system of which he was an
unwilling supporter. He wished these people to regard him as a kind
of official friend, to advise and settle differences; yet, shrewder
than he, they considered him as an enemy, who lived on their mistakes
and the collapse of their social relationships. There remained his duty to his wife and children, and this rendered
the problem infinitely perplexing. Why should he punish others because of his love for his children; or,
again, why should his children suffer for his scruples? Yet it was
clear that, unless fortune permitted him to accomplish some notable
yet honourable arrest, he would either have to cheat and tyrannise
with his colleagues or leave the force. And what employment is
available for a discharged policeman? As he went systematically from house to house the consideration of
these things marred the normal progress of his dreams. Conscious as
he was of the stars and the great widths of heaven that made the
world so small, he nevertheless felt that his love for his family and
the wider love that determined his honour were somehow intimately
connected with this greatness of the universe rather than with the
world of little streets and little motives, and so were not lightly
to be put aside. Yet, how can one measure one love against another
when all are true?