tea-table talk-第12节

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tone　centre　spreads　its　power；　the　Nation　leaps　to　life；　civilisation　springs　from　leisure；　no　longer　is　each　man's　life　devoted　to　his　mere　animal　necessities。　　The　artificer；　the　thinkerhis　fellows　shall　protect　him。　　Socrates　dreams；　Phidias　carves　the　marble；　while　Pericles　maintains　the　law　and　Leonidas　holds　the　Barbarian　at　bay。　　Europe　annexes　piece　by　piece　the　dark　places　of　the　earth；　gives　to　them　her　laws。　　The　Empire　swallows　the　small　State；　Russia　stretches　her　arm　round　Asia。　　In　London　we　toast　the　union　of　the　English…speaking　peoples；　in　Berlin　and　Vienna　we　rub　a　salamander　to　the　deutscher　Bund；　in　Paris　we　whisper　of　a　communion　of　the　Latin　races。　　In　great　things　so　in　small。　　The　stores；　the　huge　Emporium　displaces　the　small　shopkeeper；　the　Trust　amalgamates　a　hundred　firms；　the　Union　speaks　for　the　worker。　　The　limits　of　country；　of　language；　are　found　too　narrow　for　the　new　Ideas。　　German；　American；　or　Englishlet　what　yard　of　coloured　cotton　you　choose　float　from　the　mizzenmast；　the　business　of　the　human　race　is　their　captain。　　One　hundred　and　fifty　years　ago　old　Sam　Johnson　waited　in　a　patron's　anteroom；　today　the　entire　world　invites　him　to　growl　his　table　talk　the　while　it　takes　its　dish　of　tea。　　The　poet；　the　novelist；　speak　in　twenty　languages。　Nationalityit　is　the　County　Council　of　the　future。　　The　world's　high　roads　run　turnpike…free　from　pole　to　pole。　　One　would　be　blind　not　to　see　the　goal　towards　which　we　are　rushing。　　At　the　outside　it　is　but　a　generation　or　two　off。　　It　is　one　huge　murmuring　Hiveone　universal　Hive　just　the　size　of　the　round　earth。　　The　bees　have　been　before　us；　they　have　solved　the　riddle　towards　which　we　in　darkness　have　been　groping。

The　Old　Maid　shuddered　visibly。　　〃What　a　terrible　idea！〃　she　said。

〃To　us；〃　replied　the　Minor　Poet；　〃not　to　those　who　will　come　after　us。　　The　child　dreads　manhood。　　To　Abraham；　roaming　the　world　with　his　flocks；　the　life　of　your　modern　City　man；　chained　to　his　office　from　ten　to　four；　would　have　seemed　little　better　than　penal　servitude。〃

〃My　sympathies　are　with　the　Abrahamitical　ideal；〃　observed　the　Philosopher。

〃Mine　also；〃　agreed　the　Minor　Poet。　　〃But　neither　you　nor　I　represent　the　tendency　of　the　age。　　We　are　its　curiosities。　　We；　and　such　as　we；　serve　as　the　brake　regulating　the　rate　of　progress。　　The　genius　of　species　shows　itself　moving　in　the　direction　of　the　organised　communityall　life　welded　together；　controlled　by　one　central　idea。　　The　individual　worker　is　drawn　into　the　factory。　Chippendale　today　would　have　been　employed　sketching　designs；　the　chair　would　have　been　put　together　by　fifty　workers；　each　one　trained　to　perfection　in　his　own　particular　department。　　Why　does　the　hotel；　with　its　five　hundred　servants；　its　catering　for　three　thousand　mouths；　work　smoothly；　while　the　desirable　family　residence；　with　its　two　or　three　domestics；　remains　the　scene　of　waste；　confusion；　and　dispute？　　We　are　losing　the　talent　of　living　alone；　the　instinct　of　living　in　communities　is　driving　it　out。〃

〃So　much　the　worse　for　the　community；〃　was　the　comment　of　the　Philosopher。　　〃Man；　as　Ibsen　has　said；　will　always　be　at　his　greatest　when　he　stands　alone。　　To　return　to　our　friend　Abraham；　surely　he；　wandering　in　the　wilderness；　talking　with　his　God；　was　nearer　the　ideal　than　the　modern　citizen；　thinking　with　his　morning　paper；　applauding　silly　shibboleths　from　a　theatre　pit；　guffawing　at　coarse　jests；　one　of　a　music…hall　crowd？　　In　the　community　it　is　the　lowest　always　leads。　　You　spoke　just　now　of　all　the　world　inviting　Samuel　Johnson　to　its　dish　of　tea。　　How　many　read　him　as　compared　to　the　number　of　subscribers　to　the　Ha'penny　Joker？　　This　'thinking　in　communities；'　as　it　is　termed；　to　what　does　it　lead？　　To　mafficking　and　Dreyfus　scandals。　　What　crowd　ever　evolved　a　noble　idea？　　If　Socrates　and　Galileo；　Confucius　and　Christ　had　'thought　in　communities；'　the　world　would　indeed　be　the　ant…hill　you　appear　to　regard　as　its　destiny。〃

〃In　balancing　the　books　of　life　one　must　have　regard　to　both　sides　of　the　ledger；〃　responded　the　Minor　Poet。　　〃A　crowd；　I　admit；　of　itself　creates　nothing；　on　the　other　hand；　it　receives　ideals　into　its　bosom　and　gives　them　needful　shelter。　　It　responds　more　readily　to　good　than　to　evil。　　What　greater　stronghold　of　virtue　than　your　sixpenny　gallery？　　Your　burglar；　arrived　fresh　from　jumping　on　his　mother；　finds　himself　applauding　with　the　rest　stirring　appeals　to　the　inborn　chivalry　of　man。　　Suggestion　that　it　was　right　or　proper　under　any　circumstances　to　jump　upon　one's　mother　he　would　at　such　moment　reject　with　horror。　　'Thinking　in　communities'　is　good　for　him。　　The　hooligan；　whose　patriotism　finds　expression　in　squirting　dirty　water　into　the　face　of　his　coster　sweetheart：　　the　boulevardiere；　primed　with　absinth；　shouting　'Conspuez　les　Juifs！'　the　motive　force　stirring　them　in　its　origin　was　an　ideal。　　Even　into　making　a　fool　of　itself；　a　crowd　can　be　moved　only　by　incitement　of　its　finer　instincts。　　The　service　of　Prometheus　to　mankind　must　not　be　judged　by　the　statistics　of　the　insurance　office。　　The　world　as　a　whole　has　gained　by　community；　will　attain　its　goal　only　through　community。　　From　the　nomadic　savage　by　the　winding　road　of　citizenship　we　have　advanced　far。　　The　way　winds　upward　still；　hidden　from　us　by　the　mists；　but　along　its　tortuous　course　lies　our　track　into　the　Promised　Land。　　Not　the　development　of　the　individualthat　is　his　own　concernbut　the　uplifting　of　the　race　would　appear　to　be　the　law。　　The　lonely　great　ones；　they　are　the　shepherds　of　the　flockthe　servants；　not　the　masters　of　the　world。　　Moses　shall　die　and　be　buried　in　the　wilderness；　seeing　only　from　afar　the　resting…place　of　man's　tired　feet。　　It　is　unfortunate　that　the　Ha'penny　Joker　and　its　kind　should　have　so　many　readers。　Maybe　it　teaches　those　to　read　who　otherwise　would　never　read　at　all。　　We　are　impatient；　forgetting　that　the　coming　and　going　of　our　generations　are　but　as　the　swinging　of　the　pendulum　of　Nature's　clock。　　Yesterday　we　booked　our　seats　for　gladiatorial　shows；　for　the　burning　of　Christians；　our　windows　for　Newgate　hangings。　　Even　the　musical　farce　is　an　improvement　upon　thatat　least；　from　the　humanitarian　point　of　view。〃

〃In　the　Southern　States　of　America；〃　observed　the　Philosopher；　sticking　to　his　guns；　〃they　run　excursion　trains　to　lynching　exhibitions。　　The　bull…fight　is　spreading　to　France；　and　English　newspapers　are　advocating　the　reintroduction　of　bear…baiting　and　cock…fighting。　　Are　we　not　moving　in　a　circle？〃

〃The　road　winds；　as　I　have　allowed；〃　returned　the　Minor　Poet；　〃the　gradient　is　somewhat　steep。　　Just　now；　maybe；　we　are　traversing　a　backward　curve。　　I　gain　my　faith　by　pausing　now　and　then　to　look　behind。　　I　see　the　weary　way　with　many　a　downward　sweep。　　But　we　are　climbing；　my　friend；　we　are　climbing。〃

〃But　to　such　a　very　dismal　goal；　according　to　your　theory；〃　grumbled　the　Old　Maid。　　〃I　should　hate　to　feel　myself　an　insect　in　a　hive；　my　little　round　of　duties　apportioned　to　me；　my　every　action　regulated　by　a　fixed　law；　my　place　assigned　to　me；　my　very　food　and　drink；　I　suppose；　apportioned　to　me。　　Do　think　of　something　more　cheerful。〃

The　Minor　Poet　laughed。　　〃My　dear　lady；〃　he　replied；　〃it　is　too　late。　　The　thing　is　already　done。　　The　hive　already　covers　us；　the　cells　are　in　building。　　Who　leads　his　own　life？　　Who　is　master　of　himself？　　What　can　you　do　but　live　according　to　your　income　in；　I　am　sure；　a　very　charming　little　cell；　buzz　about　your　little　world　with　your　cheerful；　kindly　song；　helping　these　your　fellow　insects　here；　doing　day　by　day　the　useful　offices　apportioned　to　you　by　your　temperament　and　means；　seeing　the　same　faces；　treading　ever　the　same　narrow　circle？　　Why　do　I　write　poetry？　　I　am　not　to　blame。　　I　must　live。　　It　is　the　only　thing　I　can　do。　　Why　does　one　man　live　and　die　upon　the　treeless　rocks　of　Iceland；　another　labour　in　the　vineyards　of　the　Apennines？　　Why　does　one　woman　make　matches；　ride　in　a　van　to　Epping　Forest；　drink　gin；　and　change　hats　with　her　lover　on　the　homeward　journey；　another　pant　through　a　dinner…party　and　half　a　dozen　receptions　every　night　from　March　to　June；　rush　from　country　house　to　fashionable　Continental　resort　from　July　to　February；　dress　as　she　is　instructed　by　her　milliner；　say　the　smart　things　that　are　expected　of　her？　　Who　would　be　a　sweep　or　a　chaperon；　were　all　roads　free？　　Who　is　it　succeeds　in　escaping　the　law　of　the　hive？　　The　loafer；　the　tramp。　　On　the　other　hand；　who　is　the　man　we　respect　and　envy？　　The　man　who　works　for　the　community；　the　public…spirited　man；　as　we　call　him；　the　unselfish　man；　the　man　who　labours　for　the　labour's　sake　and　not　for　the　profit；　devoting　his　days　and　nights　to　learning　Nature's　secrets；　to　acquiring　knowledge　useful　to　the　race。　　Is　he　not　the　happiest；　the　man　who　has　conquered　his　own　sordid　desires；　who　gives　himself　to　the　public　good？　　The　hive　was　founded　in　dark　days　before　man　knew；　it　has　been　built　according　to　false　laws。　　This　man　will　have　a　cell　bigger　than　any　other　cell；　all　the　other　little　men　shall　envy　him；　a　thousand　fellow…crawling　mites　shall　slave　for　him；　wear　out　their　lives　in　wretchedness　for　him　and　him　alone；　all　their　honey　they　shall　bring　to　him；　he　shall　gorge