the new machiavelli-第49部分

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Isabel　and　I　think　on　the　whole　complicating　them　further　in　the　

effort　to　simplify　them　to　manageable　and　stateable　elements。



Let　me；　nevertheless；　attempt　a　rough　preliminary　analysis　of　this　

confused　process。　　A　main　strand　is　quite　easily　traceable。　　This　

main　strand　is　the　story　of　my　obvious　life；　my　life　as　it　must　have　

looked　to　most　of　my　acquaintances。　　It　presents　you　with　a　young　

couple；　bright；　hopeful；　and　energetic；　starting　out　under　Altiora's　

auspices　to　make　a　career。　　You　figure　us　well　dressed　and　active；　

running　about　in　motor…cars；　visiting　in　great　people's　houses；　

dining　amidst　brilliant　companies；　going　to　the　theatre；　meeting　in　

the　lobby。　　Margaret　wore　hundreds　of　beautiful　dresses。　　We　must　

have　had　an　air　of　succeeding　meritoriously　during　that　time。



We　did　very　continually　and　faithfully　serve　our　joint　career。　　I　

thought　about　it　a　great　deal；　and　did　and　refrained　from　doing　ten　

thousand　things　for　the　sake　of　it。　　I　kept　up　a　solicitude　for　it；　

as　it　were　by　inertia；　long　after　things　had　happened　and　changes　

occurred　in　me　that　rendered　its　completion　impossible。　　Under　

certain　very　artless　pretences；　we　wanted　steadfastly　to　make　a　

handsome　position　in　the　world；　achieve　respect；　SUCCEED。　　Enormous　

unseen　changes　had　been　in　progress　for　years　in　my　mind　and　the　

realities　of　my　life；　before　our　general　circle　could　have　had　any　

inkling　of　their　existence；　or　suspected　the　appearances　of　our　

life。　　Then　suddenly　our　proceedings　began　to　be　deflected；　our　

outward　unanimity　visibly　strained　and　marred　by　the　insurgence　of　

these　so　long…hidden　developments。



That　career　had　its　own　hidden　side；　of　course；　but　when　I　write　of　

these　unseen　factors　I　do　not　mean　that　but　something　altogether　

broader。　　I　do　not　mean　the　everyday　pettinesses　which　gave　the　

cynical　observer　scope　and　told　of　a　narrower；　baser　aspect　of　the　

fair　but　limited　ambitions　of　my　ostensible　self。　　This　〃sub…

careerist〃　element　noted　little　things　that　affected　the　career；　

made　me　suspicious　of　the　rivalry　of　so…and…so；　propitiatory　to　so…

and…so；　whom；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　I　didn't　respect　or　feel　in　the　

least　sympathetic　towards；　guarded　with　that　man；　who　for　all　his　

charm　and　interest　wasn't　helpful；　and　a　little　touchy　at　the　

appearance　of　neglect　from　that。　　No；　I　mean　something　greater　and　

not　something　smaller　when　I　write　of　a　hidden　life。



In　the　ostensible　self　who　glowed　under　the　approbation　of　Altiora　

Bailey；　and　was　envied　and　discussed；　praised　and　depreciated；　in　

the　House　and　in　smoking…room　gossip；　you　really　have　as　much　of　a　

man　as　usually　figures　in　a　novel　or　an　obituary　notice。　　But　I　am　

tremendously　impressed　now　in　the　retrospect　by　the　realisation　of　

how　little　that　frontage　represented　me；　and　just　how　little　such　

frontages　do　represent　the　complexities　of　the　intelligent　

contemporary。　　Behind　it；　yet　struggling　to　disorganise　and　alter　

it；　altogether；　was　a　far　more　essential　reality；　a　self　less　

personal；　less　individualised；　and　broader　in　its　references。　　Its　

aims　were　never　simply　to　get　on；　it　had　an　altogether　different　

system　of　demands　and　satisfactions。　　It　was　critical；　curious；　more　

than　a　little　unfeelingand　relentlessly　illuminating。



It　is　just　the　existence　and　development　of　this　more　generalised　

self…behind…the…frontage　that　is　making　modern　life　so　much　more　

subtle　and　intricate　to　render；　and　so　much　more　hopeful　in　its　

relations　to　the　perplexities　of　the　universe。　　I　see　this　mental　

and　spiritual　hinterland　vary　enormously　in　the　people　about　me；　

from　a　type　which　seems　to　keep；　as　people　say；　all　its　goods　in　the　

window；　to　others　who；　like　myself；　come　to　regard　the　ostensible　

existence　more　and　more　as　a　mere　experimental　feeder　and　agent　for　

that　greater　personality　behind。　　And　this　back…self　has　its　history　

of　phases；　its　crises　and　happy　accidents　and　irrevocable　

conclusions；　more　or　less　distinct　from　the　adventures　and　

achievements　of　the　ostensible　self。　　It　meets　persons　and　phrases；　

it　assimilates　the　spirit　of　a　book；　it　is　startled　into　new　

realisations　by　some　accident　that　seems　altogether　irrelevant　to　

the　general　tenor　of　one's　life。　　Its　increasing　independence　of　the　

ostensible　career　makes　it　the　organ　of　corrective　criticism；　it　

accumulates　disturbing　energy。　　Then　it　breaks　our　overt　promises　

and　repudiates　our　pledges；　coming　down　at　last　like　an　overbearing　

mentor　upon　the　small　engagements　of　the　pupil。



In　the　life　of　the　individual　it　takes　the　role　that　the　growth　of　

philosophy；　science；　and　creative　literature　may　play　in　the　

development　of　mankind。







2





It　is　curious　to　recall　how　Britten　helped　shatter　that　obvious；　

lucidly　explicable　presentation　of　myself　upon　which　I　had　embarked　

with　Margaret。　　He　returned　to　revive　a　memory　of　adolescent　dreams　

and　a　habit　of　adolescent　frankness；　he　reached　through　my　shallow　

frontage　as　no　one　else　seemed　capable　of　doing；　and　dragged　that　

back…self　into　relation　with　it。



I　remember　very　distinctly　a　dinner　and　a　subsequent　walk　with　him　

which　presents　itself　now　as　altogether　typical　of　the　quality　of　

his　influence。



I　had　come　upon　him　one　day　while　lunching　with　Somers　and　Sutton　at　

the　Playwrights'　Club；　and　had　asked　him　to　dinner　on　the　spur　of　

the　moment。　　He　was　oddly　the　same　curly…headed；　red…faced　

ventriloquist；　and　oddly　different；　rather　seedy　as　well　as　untidy；　

and　at　first　a　little　inclined　to　make　comparisons　with　my　sleek　

successfulness。　　But　that　disposition　presently　evaporated；　and　his　

talk　was　good　and　fresh　and　provocative。　　And　something　that　had　

long　been　straining　at　its　checks　in　my　mind　flapped　over；　and　he　

and　I　found　ourselves　of　one　accord。



Altiora　wasn't　at　this　dinner。　　When　she　came　matters　were　apt　to　

become　confusedly　strenuous。　　There　was　always　a　slight　and　

ineffectual　struggle　at　the　end　on　the　part　of　Margaret　to　

anticipate　Altiora's　overpowering　tendency　to　a　rally　and　the　

establishment　of　some　entirely　unjustifiable　conclusion　by　a　COUP…

DE…MAIN。　　When；　however；　Altiora　was　absent；　the　quieter　influence　

of　the　Cramptons　prevailed；　temperance　and　information　for　its　own　

sake　prevailed　excessively　over　dinner　and　the　play　of　thought。　。　。　。　　

Good　Lord！　what　bores　the　Cramptons　were！　　I　wonder　I　endured　

them　as　I　did。　　They　had　all　of　them　the　trick　of　lying　in　wait　

conversationally；　they　had　no　sense　of　the　self…exposures；　the　

gallant　experiments　in　statement　that　are　necessary　for　good　

conversation。　　They　would　watch　one　talking　with　an　expression　

exactly　like　peeping　through　bushes。　　Then　they　would；　as　it　were；　

dash　out；　dissent　succinctly；　contradict　some　secondary　fact；　and　

back　to　cover。　　They　gave　one　twilight　nerves。　　Their　wives　were　

easier　but　still　difficult　at　a　stretch；　they　talked　a　good　deal　

about　children　and　servants；　but　with　an　air　caught　from　Altiora　of　

making　observations　upon　sociological　types。　　Lewis　gossiped　about　

the　House　in　an　entirely　finite　manner。　　He　never　raised　a　

discussion；　nobody　ever　raised　a　discussion。　　He　would　ask　what　we　

thought　of　Evesham's　question　that　afternoon；　and　Edward　would　say　

it　was　good；　and　Mrs。　Willie；　who　had　been　behind　the　grille；　would　

think　it　was　very　good；　and　then　Willie；　parting　the　branches；　would　

say　rather　conclusively　that　he　didn't　think　it　was　very　much　good；　

and　I　would　deny　hearing　the　question　in　order　to　evade　a　profitless　

statement　of　views　in　that　vacuum；　and　then　we　would　cast　about　in　

our　minds　for　some　other　topic　of　equal　interest。　。　。　。



On　this　occasion　Altiora　was　absent；　and　to　qualify　our　Young　

Liberal　bleakness　we　had　Mrs。　Millingham；　with　her　white　hair　and　

her　fresh　mind　and　complexion；　and　Esmeer。　　Willie　Crampton　was　with　

us；　but　not　his　wife；　who　was　having　her　third　baby　on　principle；　

his　brother　Edward　was　present；　and　the　Lewises；　and　of　course　the　

Bunting　Harblows。　　There　was　also　some　other　lady。　　I　remember　her　

as　pale　blue；　but　for　the　life　of　me　I　cannot　remember　her　name。



Quite　early　there　was　a　little　breeze　between　Edward　Crampton　and　

Esmeer；　who　had　ventured　an　opinion　about　the　partition　of　Poland。　　

Edward　was　at　work　then　upon　the　seventh　volume　of　his　monumental　

Life　of　Kosciusko；　and　a　little　impatient　with　views　perhaps　not　

altogether　false　but　betraying　a　lamentable　ignorance　of　accessible　

literature。　　At　any　rate；　his　correction　of　Esmeer　was　magisterial。　　

After　that　there　was　a　distinct　and　not　altogether　delightful　pause；　

and　then　some　one；　it　may　have　been　the　pale…blue　lady；　asked　Mrs。　

Lewis　whether　her　aunt　Lady　Carmixter　had　returned　from　her　rest…

and…sun…cure　in　Italy。　　That　led　to　a　rather　anxiously　sustained　

talk　about　regimen；　and　Willie　told　us　how　he　had　profited　by　the　

no…breakfast　system。　　It　had　increased　his　power　of　work　enormously。　　

He　could　get　through　ten　hours　a　day　now　without　inconvenience。



〃What　do　you　do？〃　said　Esmeer　abruptly。



〃Oh！　no　end　of　work。　　There's　all　the　estate　and　looking　after　

things。〃



〃But　publicly？〃



〃I　asked　three　questions　yesterday。　　And　for　one　of　them　I　had　to　

consult　nine　books！〃



We　were　drifting；　I　could　see；　towards　Doctor　Haig's　system　of　

dietary；　and　whether　the　exclusion　or　inclusion　of　fish　and　chicken　

were　most　conducive　to　high　efficiency；　when　Britten；　who　had　

refused　lemonade　and　claret　and　demanded　Burgundy；　broke　out；　and　

was　discovered　to　be　demanding　in　his　throat　just　what　we　Young　

Liberals　thought　we　were　up　to？



〃I　want；〃　said　Britten；　repeating　his　challenge　a　little　louder；　〃to　

hear　just　exactly　what　you　think　you　are　doing　in　Parliament？〃



Lewis　laughed　nervously；　and　thought　we　were　〃Seeking　the　Good　of　

the　Community。〃



〃HOW？〃



〃Benefic