文档介绍：The Faith of Men
The Faith of Men
By Jack London
1
The Faith of Men
A RELIC OF THE PLIOCENE
I wash my hands of him at the start. I cannot father his tales, nor will
I be responsible for them. I make these preliminary reservations, observe,
as a guard upon my own integrity. I possess a certain definite position in
a small way, also a wife; and for the good name of munity that
honours my existence with its approval, and for the sake of her posterity
and mine, I cannot take the chances I once did, nor foster probabilities
with the careless improvidence of youth. So, I repeat, I wash my hands
of him, this Nimrod, this mighty hunter, this homely, blue-eyed, freckle-
faced Thomas Stevens.
Having been honest to myself, and to whatever prospective olive
branches my wife may be pleased to tender me, I can now afford to be
generous. I shall not criticize the tales told me by Thomas Stevens, and,
further, I shall withhold my judgment. If it be asked why, I can only add
that judgment I have none. Long have I pondered, weighed, and
balanced, but never have my conclusions been twice the same--forsooth!
because Thomas Stevens is a greater man than I. If he have told truths,
well and good; if untruths, still well and good. For who can prove? or
who disprove? I eliminate myself from the proposition, while those of
little faith may do as I have done--go find the same Thomas Stevens, and
discuss to his face the various matters which, if fortune serve, I shall relate.
As to where he may be found? The directions are simple: anywhere
between 53 north latitude and the Pole, on the one hand; and, on the other,
the likeliest hunting grounds that lie between the east coast of Siberia and
farthermost Labrador. That he is there, somewhere, within that clearly
defined territory, I pledge the word of an honourable man whose
expectations entail straight speaking and right living.
Thomas Stevens may have toyed prodigiously with truth, but when we
first met (i