the egoist-第1部分

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The　Egoist　

by　George　Meredith





PRELUDE

A　Chapter　of　which　the　Last　Page　only　is　of　any　Importance

Comedy　is　a　game　played　to　throw　reflections　upon　social　life；　and
it　deals　with　human　nature　in　the　drawing…room　of　civilized　men
and　women；　where　we　have　no　dust　of　the　struggling　outer　world；　no
mire；　no　violent　crashes；　to　make　the　correctness　of　the
representation　convincing。　Credulity　is　not　wooed　through　the
impressionable　senses；　nor　have　we　recourse　to　the　small　circular
glow　of　the　watchmaker's　eye　to　raise　in　bright　relief　minutest
grains　of　evidence　for　the　routing　of　incredulity。　The　Comic
Spirit　conceives　a　definite　situation　for　a　number　of　characters；
and　rejects　all　accessories　in　the　exclusive　pursuit　of　them　and
their　speech。　For　being　a　spirit；　he　hunts　the　spirit　in　men；
vision　and　ardour　constitute　his　merit；　he　has　not　a　thought　of
persuading　you　to　believe　in　him。　Follow　and　you　will　see。　But
there　is　a　question　of　the　value　of　a　run　at　his　heels。

Now　the　world　is　possessed　of　a　certain　big　book；　the　biggest　book
on　earth；　that　might　indeed　be　called　the　Book　of　Earth；　whose
title　is　the　Book　of　Egoism；　and　it　is　a　book　full　of　the　world's
wisdom。　So　full　of　it；　and　of　such　dimensions　is　this　book；　in
which　the　generations　have　written　ever　since　they　took　to
writing；　that　to　be　profitable　to　us　the　Book　needs　a　powerful
compression。

Who；　says　the　notable　humourist；　in　allusion　to　this　Book；　who　can
studiously　travel　through　sheets　of　leaves　now　capable　of　a
stretch　from　the　Lizard　to　the　last　few　poor　pulmonary　snips　and
shreds　of　leagues　dancing　on　their　toes　for　cold；　explorers　tell
us；　and　catching　breath　by　good　luck；　like　dogs　at　bones　about　a
table；　on　the　edge　of　the　Pole？　Inordinate　unvaried　length；　sheer
longinquity；　staggers　the　heart；　ages　the　very　heart　of　us　at　a
view。　And　how　if　we　manage　finally　to　print　one　of　our　pages　on
the　crow…scalp　of　that　solitary　majestic　outsider？　We　may　get　him
into　the　Book；　yet　the　knowledge　we　want　will　not　be　more　present
with　us　than　it　was　when　the　chapters　hung　their　end　over　the
cliff　you　ken　of　at　Dover；　where　sits　our　great　lord　and　master
contemplating　the　seas　without　upon　the　reflex　of　that　within！

In　other　words；　as　I　venture　to　translate　him　（humourists　are
difficult：　it　is　a　piece　of　their　humour　to　puzzle　our　wits）；　the
inward　mirror；　the　embracing　and　condensing　spirit；　is　required　to
give　us　those　interminable　milepost　piles　of　matter　（extending
well…nigh　to　the　very　Pole）　in　essence；　in　chosen　samples；
digestibly。　I　conceive　him　to　indicate　that　the　realistic　method
of　a　conscientious　transcription　of　all　the　visible；　and　a
repetition　of　all　the　audible；　is　mainly　accountable　for　our
present　branfulness；　and　that　prolongation　of　the　vasty　and　the
noisy；　out　of　which；　as　from　an　undrained　fen；　steams　the　malady
of　sameness；　our　modern　malady。　We　have　the　malady；　whatever　may
be　the　cure　or　the　cause。　We　drove　in　a　body　to　Science　the　other
day　for　an　antidote；　which　was　as　if　tired　pedestrians　should
mount　the　engine…box　of　headlong　trains；　and　Science　introduced　us
to　our　o'er…hoary　ancestrythem　in　the　Oriental　posture；
whereupon　we　set　up　a　primaeval　chattering　to　rival　the　Amazon
forest　nigh　nightfall；　cured；　we　fancied。　And　before　daybreak　our
disease　was　hanging　on　to　us　again；　with　the　extension　of　a　tail。
We　had　it　fore　and　aft。　We　were　the　same；　and　animals　into　the
bargain。　That　is　all　we　got　from　Science。

Art　is　the　specific。　We　have　little　to　learn　of　apes；　and　they　may
be　left。　The　chief　consideration　for　us　is；　what　particular
practice　of　Art　in　letters　is　the　best　for　the　perusal　of　the　Book
of　our　common　wisdom；　so　that　with　clearer　minds　and　livelier
manners　we　may　escape；　as　it　were；　into　daylight　and　song　from　a
land　of　fog…horns。　Shall　we　read　it　by　the　watchmaker's　eye　in
luminous　rings　eruptive　of　the　infinitesimal；　or　pointed　with
examples　and　types　under　the　broad　Alpine　survey　of　the　spirit
born　of　our　united　social　intelligence；　which　is　the　Comic　Spirit？
Wise　men　say　the　latter。　They　tell　us　that　there　is　a　constant
tendency　in　the　Book　to　accumulate　excess　of　substance；　and　such
repleteness；　obscuring　the　glass　it　holds　to　mankind；　renders　us
inexact　in　the　recognition　of　our　individual　countenances：　a
perilous　thing　for　civilization。　And　these　wise　men　are　strong　in
their　opinion　that　we　should　encourage　the　Comic　Spirit；　who　is
after　all　our　own　offspring；　to　relieve　the　Book。　Comedy；　they
say；　is　the　true　diversion；　as　it　is　likewise　the　key　of　the　great
Book；　the　music　of　the　Book。　They　tell　us　how　it　condenses　whole
sections　of　the　book　in　a　sentence；　volumes　in　a　character；　so
that　a　fair　pan　of　a　book　outstripping　thousands　of　leagues　when
unrolled　may　he　compassed　in　one　comic　sitting。

For　verily；　say　they；　we　must　read　what　we　can　of　it；　at　least　the
page　before　us；　if　we　would　be　men。　One；　with　an　index　on　the
Book；　cries　out；　in　a　style　pardonable　to　his　fervency：　The　remedy
of　your　frightful　affliction　is　here；　through　the　stillatory　of
Comedy；　and　not　in　Science；　nor　yet　in　Speed；　whose　name　is　but
another　for　voracity。　Why；　to　be　alive；　to　be　quick　in　the　soul；
there　should　be　diversity　in　the　companion　throbs　of　your　pulses。
Interrogate　them。　They　lump　along　like　the　old　loblegs　of　Dobbin
the　horse；　or　do　their　business　like　cudgels　of　carpet…thwackers
expelling　dust　or　the　cottage…clock　pendulum　teaching　the　infant
hour　over　midnight　simple　arithmetic。　This　too　in　spite　of
Bacchus。　And　let　them　gallop；　let　them　gallop　with　the　God
bestriding　them；　gallop　to　Hymen；　gallop　to　Hades；　they　strike　the
same　note。　Monstrous　monotonousness　has　enfolded　us　as　with　the
arms　of　Amphitrite！　We　hear　a　shout　of　war　for　a　diversion。
Comedy　he　pronounces　to　be　our　means　of　reading　swiftly　and
comprehensively。　She　it　is　who　proposes　the　correcting　of
pretentiousness；　of　inflation；　of　dulness；　and　of　the　vestiges　of
rawness　and　grossness　to　be　found　among　us。　She　is　the　ultimate
civilizer；　the　polisher；　a　sweet　cook。　If；　he　says；　she　watches
over　sentimentalism　with　a　birch…rod；　she　is　not　opposed　to
romance。　You　may　love；　and　warmly　love；　so　long　as　you　are　honest。
Do　not　offend　reason。　A　lover　pretending　too　much　by　one　foot's
length　of　pretence；　will　have　that　foot　caught　in　her　trap。　In
Comedy　is　the　singular　scene　of　charity　issuing　of　disdain　under
the　stroke　of　honourable　laughter：　an　Ariel　released　by　Prospero's
wand　from　the　fetters　of　the　damned　witch　Sycorax。　And　this
laughter　of　reason　refreshed　is　floriferous；　like　the　magical
great　gale　of　the　shifty　Spring　deciding　for　Summer。　You　hear　it
giving　the　delicate　spirit　his　liberty。　Listen；　for　comparison；
to　an　unleavened　society：　a　low　as　of　the　udderful　cow　past
milking　hour！　O　for　a　titled　ecclesiastic　to　curse　to
excommunication　that　unholy　thing！So　far　an　enthusiast　perhaps；
but　he　should　have　a　hearing。

Concerning　pathos；　no　ship　can　now　set　sail　without　pathos；　and　we
are　not　totally　deficient　of　pathos；　which　is；　I　do　not　accurately
know　what；　if　not　the　ballast；　reducible　to　moisture　by　patent
process；　on　board　our　modern　vessel；　for　it　can　hardly　be　the
cargo；　and　the　general　water　supply　has　other　uses；　and　ships　well
charged　with　it　seem　to　sail　the　stiffest：there　is　a　touch　of
pathos。　The　Egoist　surely　inspires　pity。　He　who　would　desire　to
clothe　himself　at　everybody's　expense；　and　is　of　that　desire
condemned　to　strip　himself　stark　naked；　he；　if　pathos　ever　had　a
form；　might　be　taken　for　the　actual　person。　Only　he　is　not　allowed
to　rush　at　you；　roll　you　over　and　squeeze　your　body　for　the　briny
drops。　There　is　the　innovation。

You　may　as　well　know　him　out　of　hand；　as　a　gentleman　of　our　time
and　country；　of　wealth　and　station；　a　not　flexile　figure；　do　what
we　may　with　him；　the　humour　of　whom　scarcely　dimples　the　surface
and　is　distinguishable　but　by　very　penetrative；　very　wicked　imps；
whose　fits　of　roaring　below　at　some　generally　imperceptible　stroke
of　his　quality；　have　first　made　the　mild　literary　angels　aware　of
something　comic　in　him；　when　they　were　one　and　all　about　to
describe　the　gentleman　on　the　heading　of　the　records　baldly　（where
brevity　is　most　complimentary）　as　a　gentleman　of　family　and
property；　an　idol　of　a　decorous　island　that　admires　the　concrete。
Imps　have　their　freakish　wickedness　in　them　to　kindle　detective
vision：　malignly　do　they　love　to　uncover　ridiculousness　in
imposing　figures。　Wherever　they　catch　sight　of　Egoism　they　pitch
their　camps；　they　circle　and　squat；　and　forthwith　they　trim　their
lanterns；　confident　of　the　ludicrous　to　come。　So　confident　that
their　grip　of　an　English　gentleman；　in　whom　they　have　spied　their
game；　never　relaxes　until　he　begins　insensibly　to　frolic　and
antic；　unknown　to　himself；　and　comes　out　in　the　native　steam　which
is　their　scent　of　the　chase。　Instantly　off　they　scour；　Egoist　and
imps。　They　will；　it　is　known　of　them；　dog　a　great　House　for
centuries；　and　be　at　the　birth　of　all　the　new　heirs　in　succession；
diligently　taking　confirmatory　notes；　to　join　hands　and　chime
their　chorus　in　one　of　their　merry　rings　round　the　tottering
pillar　of　the　House；　when　his　turn　arrives；　as　if　they　had
（possibly　they　had）　smelt　of　old　date　a　doomed　colossus　of　Egoism
in　that　unborn；　unconceived　inheritor　of　the　stuff　of　the　family。
They　dare　not　be　chuckling　while　Egoism　is　valiant；　while　sober；
while　socially　valuable；　nationally　serviceable。　They　wait。

Aforetime　a　grand　old　Egoism　built　the　House。　It　would　appear　that
ever　finer　essences　of　it　are　demanded　to　sustain　the　structure；
but　especially　would　it　appear　that　a　reversion　to　the　gross
original；　beneath　a　mask　and　in　a　vein　of　fineness；　is　an
earthquake　at　the　foundations　of　the　House。　Better　that　it　should
not　have　consented　to　motion；　and　have　held　stubbornly　to　all
ancestral　ways；　than　have　bred　that　anachronic　spectre。　The　sight；
however；　is　one　to　make　our　squatting　imps　in　circle　grow　restless
on　their　haunches；　as　they　bend　eyes　instantly；　ears　at　full　cock；
for　the　commencement　of　the　comic　drama　of　the　suicide。　If　this
line　of　verse　be　not　yet　in　our　literature；