the new machiavelli-第21节

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the　men　through　their　vacation；　and　somehow　or　other　I　would　have　

contrived　a　young　woman　to　match　them。　　I　think　I　could　have　seen　to　

it　effectually　enough　that　they　didn't　get　at　croquet　and　tennis　

with　the　vicarage　daughters　and　discover　sex　in　the　Peeping　Tom　

fashion　I　did；　and　that　they　realised　quite　early　in　life　that　it　

isn't　really　virile　to　reek　of　tobacco。　　I　should　have　had　military　

manoeuvres；　training　ships；　aeroplane　work；　mountaineering　and　so　

forth；　in　the　place　of　the　solemn　trivialities　of　games；　and　I　

should　have　fed　and　housed　my　men　clean　and　very　hardwhere　there　

wasn't　any　audit　ale；　no　credit　tradesmen；　and　plenty　of　high　

pressure　douches。　。　。　。



I　have　revisited　Cambridge　and　Oxford　time　after　time　since　I　came　

down；　and　so　far　as　the　Empire　goes；　I　want　to　get　clear　of　those　

two　places。　。　。　。



Always　I　renew　my　old　feelings；　a　physical　oppression；　a　sense　of　

lowness　and　dampness　almost　exactly　like　the　feeling　of　an　

underground　room　where　paper　moulders　and　leaves　the　wall；　a　feeling　

of　ineradicable　contagion　in　the　Gothic　buildings；　in　the　narrow　

ditch…like　rivers；　in　those　roads　and　roads　of　stuffy　little　villas。　　

Those　little　villas　have　destroyed　all　the　good　of　the　old　monastic　

system　and　none　of　its　evil。　。　。　。



Some　of　the　most　charming　people　in　the　world　live　in　them；　but　

their　collective　effect　is　below　the　quality　of　any　individual　among　

them。　　Cambridge　is　a　world　of　subdued　tones；　of　excessively　subtle　

humours；　of　prim　conduct　and　free　thinking；　it　fears　the　Parent；　but　

it　has　no　fear　of　God；　it　offers　amidst　surroundings　that　vary　

between　disguises　and　antiquarian　charm　the　inflammation　of　

literature's　purple　draught；　one　hears　there　a　peculiar　thin　scandal　

like　no　other　scandal　in　the　worlda　covetous　scandalso　that　I　am　

always　reminded　of　Ibsen　in　Cambridge。　　In　Cambridge　and　the　plays　

of　Ibsen　alone　does　it　seem　appropriate　for　the　heroine　before　the　

great　crisis　of　life　to　〃enter；　take　off　her　overshoes；　and　put　her　

wet　umbrella　upon　the　writing　desk。〃　。　。　。



We　have　to　make　a　new　Academic　mind　for　modern　needs；　and　the　last　

thing　to　make　it　out　of；　I　am　convinced；　is　the　old　Academic　mind。　　

One　might　as　soon　try　to　fake　the　old　VICTORY　at　Portsmouth　into　a　

line　of　battleship　again。　　Besides　which　the　old　Academic　mind；　like　

those　old　bathless；　damp　Gothic　colleges；　is　much　too　delightful　in　

its　peculiar　and　distinctive　way　to　damage　by　futile　patching。



My　heart　warms　to　a　sense　of　affectionate　absurdity　as　I　recall　dear　

old　Codger；　surely　the　most　〃unleaderly〃　of　men。　　No　more　than　from　

the　old　Schoolmen；　his　kindred；　could　one　get　from　him　a　School　for　

Princes。　　Yet　apart　from　his　teaching　he　was　as　curious　and　adorable　

as　a　good　Netsuke。　　Until　quite　recently　he　was　a　power　in　

Cambridge；　he　could　make　and　bar　and　destroy；　and　in　a　way　he　has　

become　the　quintessence　of　Cambridge　in　my　thoughts。



I　see　him　on　his　way　to　the　morning's　lecture；　with　his　plump　

childish　face；　his　round　innocent　eyes；　his　absurdly　non…prehensile　

fat　hand　carrying　his　cap；　his　grey　trousers　braced　up　much　too　

high；　his　feet　a　trifle　inturned；　and　going　across　the　great　court　

with　a　queer　tripping　pace　that　seemed　cultivated　even　to　my　naive　

undergraduate　eye。　　Or　I　see　him　lecturing。　　He　lectured　walking　up　

and　down　between　the　desks；　talking　in　a　fluting　rapid　voice；　and　

with　the　utmost　lucidity。　　If　he　could　not　walk　up　and　down　he　could　

not　lecture。　　His　mind　and　voice　had　precisely　the　fluid　quality　of　

some　clear　subtle　liquid；　one　felt　it　could　flow　round　anything　and　

overcome　nothing。　　And　its　nimble　eddies　were　wonderful！　　Or　again　I　

recall　him　drinking　port　with　little　muscular　movements　in　his　neck　

and　cheek　and　chin　and　his　brows　knitvery　judicial；　very　

concentrated；　preparing　to　say　the　apt　just　thing；　it　was　the　last　

thing　he　would　have　told　a　lie　about。



When　I　think　of　Codger　I　am　reminded　of　an　inscription　I　saw　on　some　

occasion　in　Regent's　Park　above　two　eyes　scarcely　more　limpidly　

innocent　than　his〃Born　in　the　Menagerie。〃　　Never　once　since　Codger　

began　to　display　the　early　promise　of　scholarship　at　the　age　of　

eight　or　more；　had　he　been　outside　the　bars。　　His　utmost　travel　had　

been　to　lecture　here　and　lecture　there。　　His　student　phase　had　

culminated　in　papers　of　quite　exceptional　brilliance；　and　he　had　

gone　on　to　lecture　with　a　cheerful　combination　of　wit　and　mannerism　

that　had　made　him　a　success　from　the　beginning。　　He　has　lectured　

ever　since。　　He　lectures　still。　　Year　by　year　he　has　become　plumper；　

more　rubicund　and　more　and　more　of　an　item　for　the　intelligent　

visitor　to　see。　　Even　in　my　time　he　was　pointed　out　to　people　as　

part　of　our　innumerable　enrichments；　and　obviously　he　knew　it。　　He　

has　become　now　almost　the　leading　Character　in　a　little　donnish　

world　of　much　too　intensely　appreciated　Characters。



He　boasted　he　took　no　exercise；　and　also　of　his　knowledge　of　port　

wine。　　Of　other　wines　he　confessed　quite　frankly　he　had　no　〃special　

knowledge。〃　　Beyond　these　things　he　had　little　pride　except　that　he　

claimed　to　have　read　every　novel　by　a　woman　writer　that　had　ever　

entered　the　Union　Library。　　This；　however；　he　held　to　be　remarkable　

rather　than　ennobling；　and　such　boasts　as　he　made　of　it　were　tinged　

with　playfulness。　　Certainly　he　had　a　scholar's　knowledge　of　the　

works　of　Miss　Marie　Corelli；　Miss　Braddon；　Miss　Elizabeth　Glyn　and　

Madame　Sarah　Grand　that　would　have　astonished　and　flattered　those　

ladies　enormously；　and　he　loved　nothing　so　much　in　his　hours　of　

relaxation　as　to　propound　and　answer　difficult　questions　upon　their　

books。　　Tusher　of　King's　was　his　ineffectual　rival　in　this　field；　

their　bouts　were　memorable　and　rarely　other　than　glorious　for　

Codger；　but　then　Tusher　spread　himself　too　much；　he　also　undertook　

to　rehearse　whole　pages　out　of　Bradshaw；　and　tell　you　with　all　the　

changes　how　to　get　from　any　station　to　any　station　in　Great　Britain　

by　the　nearest　and　cheapest　routes。　。　。　。



Codger　lodged　with　a　little　deaf　innocent　old　lady；　Mrs。　Araminta　

Mergle；　who　was　understood　to　be　herself　a　very　redoubtable　

Character　in　the　Gyp…Bedder　class；　about　her　he　related　quietly　

absurd　anecdotes。　　He　displayed　a　marvellous　invention　in　ascribing　

to　her　plausible　expressions　of　opinion　entirely　identical　in　import　

with　those　of　the　Oxford　and　Harvard　Pragmatists；　against　whom　he　

waged　a　fierce　obscure　war。　。　。　。



It　was　Codger's　function　to　teach　me　philosophy；　philosophy！　the　

intimate　wisdom　of　things。　　He　dealt　in　a　variety　of　Hegelian　stuff　

like　nothing　else　in　the　world；　but　marvellously　consistent　with　

itself。　　It　was　a　wonderful　web　he　spun　out　of　that　queer　big　active　

childish　brain　that　had　never　lusted　nor　hated　nor　grieved　nor　

feared　nor　passionately　loved；a　web　of　iridescent　threads。　　He　had　

luminous　final　theories　about　Love　and　Death　and　Immortality；　odd　

matters　they　seemed　for　him　to　think　about！　and　all　his　woven　

thoughts　lay　across　my　perception　of　the　realities　of　things；　as　

flimsy　and　irrelevant　and　clever　and　beautiful；　oh！as　a　dew…wet　

spider's　web　slung　in　the　morning　sunshine　across　the　black　mouth　of　

a　gun。　。　。　。







4





All　through　those　years　of　development　I　perceive　now　there　must　

have　been　growing　in　me；　slowly；　irregularly；　assimilating　to　itself　

all　the　phrases　and　forms　of　patriotism；　diverting　my　religious　

impulses；　utilising　my　esthetic　tendencies；　my　dominating　idea；　the　

statesman's　idea；　that　idea　of　social　service　which　is　the　

protagonist　of　my　story；　that　real　though　complex　passion　for　

Making；　making　widely　and　greatly；　cities；　national　order；　

civilisation；　whose　interplay　with　all　those　other　factors　in　life　I　

have　set　out　to　present。　　It　was　growing　in　meas　one's　bones　grow；　

no　man　intending　it。



I　have　tried　to　show　how；　quite　early　in　my　life；　the　fact　of　

disorderliness；　the　conception　of　social　life　as　being　a　

multitudinous　confusion　out　of　hand；　came　to　me。　　One　always　of　

course　simplifies　these　things　in　the　telling；　but　I　do　not　think　I　

ever　saw　the　world　at　large　in　any　other　terms。　　I　never　at　any　

stage　entertamed　the　idea　which　sustained　my　mother；　and　which　

sustains　so　many　people　in　the　world；the　idea　that　the　universe；　

whatever　superficial　discords　it　may　present；　is　as　a　matter　of　fact　

〃all　right；〃　is　being　steered　to　definite　ends　by　a　serene　and　

unquestionable　God。　　My　mother　thought　that　Order　prevailed；　and　

that　disorder　was　just　incidental　and　foredoomed　rebellion；　I　feel　

and　have　always　felt　that　order　rebels　against　and　struggles　against　

disorder；　that　order　has　an　up…hill　job；　in　gardens；　experiments；　

suburbs；　everything　alike；　from　the　very　beginnings　of　my　experience　

I　discovered　hostility　to　order；　a　constant　escaping　from　control。



The　current　of　living　and　conte