the new machiavelli-第75部分

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I　am　telling　a　story；　and　not　propounding　theories　in　this　book；　and　

chiefly　I　am　telling　of　the　ideas　and　influences　and　emotions　that　

have　happened　to　meme　as　a　sort　of　sounding　board　for　my　world。　　

The　moralist　is　at　liberty　to　go　over　my　conduct　with　his　measure　

and　say；　〃At　this　point　or　at　that　you　went　wrong；　and　you　ought　to　

have　done〃so…and…so。　　The　point　of　interest　to　the　statesman　is　

that　it　didn't　for　a　moment　occur　to　us　to　do　so…and…so　when　the　

time　for　doing　it　came。　　It　amazes　me　now　to　think　how　little　either　

of　us　troubled　about　the　established　rights　or　wrongs　of　the　

situation。　　We　hadn't　an　atom　of　respect　for　them；　innate　or　

acquired。　　The　guardians　of　public　morals　will　say　we　were　very　bad　

people；　I　submit　in　defence　that　they　are　very　bad　guardians

provocative　guardians。　。　。　。　　And　when　at　last　there　came　a　claim　

against　us　that　had　an　effective　validity　for　us；　we　were　in　the　

full　tide　of　passionate　intimacy。



I　had　a　night　of　nearly　sleepless　perplexity　after　Margaret's　

return。　　She　had　suddenly　presented　herself　to　me　like　something　

dramatically　recalled；　fine；　generous；　infinitely　capable　of　

feeling。　　I　was　amazed　how　much　I　had　forgotten　her。　　In　my　contempt　

for　vulgarised　and　conventionalised　honour　I　had　forgotten　that　for　

me　there　was　such　a　reality　as　honour。　　And　here　it　was；　warm　and　

near　to　me；　living；　breathing；　unsuspecting。　　Margaret's　pride　was　

my　honour；　that　I　had　had　no　right　even　to　imperil。



I　do　not　now　remember　if　I　thought　at　that　time　of　going　to　Isabel　

and　putting　this　new　aspect　of　the　case　before　her。　　Perhaps　I　did。　　

Perhaps　I　may　have　considered　even　then　the　possibility　of　ending　

what　had　so　freshly　and　passionately　begun。　　If　I　did；　it　vanished　

next　day　at　the　sight　of　her。　　Whatever　regrets　came　in　the　

darkness；　the　daylight　brought　an　obstinate　confidence　in　our　

resolution　again。　　We　would；　we　declared；　〃pull　the　thing　off。〃　　

Margaret　must　not　know。　　Margaret　should　not　know。　　If　Margaret　did　

not　know；　then　no　harm　whatever　would　be　done。　　We　tried　to　sustain　

that。　。　。　。



For　a　brief　time　we　had　been　like　two　people　in　a　magic　cell；　

magically　cut　off　from　the　world　and　full　of　a　light　of　its　own；　and　

then　we　began　to　realise　that　we　were　not　in　the　least　cut　off；　that　

the　world　was　all　about　us　and　pressing　in　upon　us；　limiting　us；　

threatening　us；　resuming　possession　of　us。　　I　tried　to　ignore　the　

injury　to　Margaret　of　her　unreciprocated　advances。　　I　tried　to　

maintain　to　myself　that　this　hidden　love　made　no　difference　to　the　

now　irreparable　breach　between　husband　and　wife。　　But　I　never　spoke　

of　it　to　Isabel　or　let　her　see　that　aspect　of　our　case。　　How　could　

I？　　The　time　for　that　had　gone。　。　。　。



Then　in　new　shapes　and　relations　came　trouble。　　Distressful　elements　

crept　in　by　reason　of　our　unavoidable　furtiveness；　we　ignored　them；　

hid　them　from　each　other；　and　attempted　to　hide　them　from　ourselves。　　

Successful　love　is　a　thing　of　abounding　pride；　and　we　had　to　be　

secret。　　It　was　delightful　at　first　to　be　secret；　a　whispering；　warm　

conspiracy；　then　presently　it　became　irksome　and　a　little　shameful。　　

Her　essential　frankness　of　soul　was　all　against　the　masks　and　

falsehoods　that　many　women　would　have　enjoyed。　　Together　in　our　

secrecy　we　relaxed；　then　in　the　presence　of　other　people　again　it　

was　tiresome　to　have　to　watch　for　the　careless；　too　easy　phrase；　to　

snatch　back　one's　hand　from　the　limitless　betrayal　of　a　light；　

familiar　touch。



Love　becomes　a　poor　thing；　at　best　a　poor　beautiful　thing；　if　it　

develops　no　continuing　and　habitual　intimacy。　　We　were　always　

meeting；　and　most　gloriously　loving　and　beginningand　then　we　had　

to　snatch　at　remorseless　ticking　watches；　hurry　to　catch　trains；　and　

go　back　to　this　or　that。　　That　is　all　very　well　for　the　intrigues　of　

idle　people　perhaps；　but　not　for　an　intense　personal　relationship。　　

It　is　like　lighting　a　candle　for　the　sake　of　lighting　it；　over　and　

over　again；　and　each　time　blowing　it　out。　　That；　no　doubt；　must　be　

very　amusing　to　children　playing　with　the　matches；　but　not　to　people　

who　love　warm　light；　and　want　it　in　order　to　do　fine　and　honourable　

things　together。　　We　had　achievedI　give　the　ugly　phrase　that　

expresses　the　increasing　discolouration　in　my　mind〃illicit　

intercourse。〃　　To　end　at　that；　we　now　perceived；　wasn't　in　our　

style。　　But　where　were　we　to　end？　。　。　。



Perhaps　we　might　at　this　stage　have　given　it　up。　　I　think　if　we　

could　have　seen　ahead　and　around　us　we　might　have　done　so。　　But　the　

glow　of　our　cell　blinded　us。　。　。　。　　I　wonder　what　might　have　

happened　if　at　that　time　we　had　given　it　up。　。　。　。　　We　propounded　

it；　we　met　again　in　secret　to　discuss　it；　and　our　overpowering　

passion　for　one　another　reduced　that　meeting　to　absurdity。　。　。　。



Presently　the　idea　of　children　crept　between　us。　　It　came　in　from　

all　our　conceptions　of　life　and　public　service；　it　was；　we　found；　in　

the　quality　of　our　minds　that　physical　love　without　children　is　a　

little　weak；　timorous；　more　than　a　little　shameful。　　With　

imaginative　people　there　very　speedily　comes　a　time　when　that　

realisation　is　inevitable。　　We　hadn't　thought　of　that　beforeit　

isn't　natural　to　think　of　that　before。　　We　hadn't　known。　　There　is　

no　literature　in　English　dealing　with　such　things。



There　is　a　necessary　sequence　of　phases　in　love。　　These　came　in　

their　order；　and　with　them；　unanticipated　tarnishings　on　the　first　

bright　perfection　of　our　relations。　　For　a　time　these　developing　

phases　were　no　more　than　a　secret　and　private　trouble　between　us；　

little　shadows　spreading　by　imperceptible　degrees　across　that　vivid　

and　luminous　cell。







8





The　Handitch　election　flung　me　suddenly　into　prominence。



It　is　still　only　two　years　since　that　struggle；　and　I　will　not　

trouble　the　reader　with　a　detailed　history　of　events　that　must　be　

quite　sufficiently　present　in　his　mind　for　my　purpose　already。　　Huge　

stacks　of　journalism　have　dealt　with　Handitch　and　its　significance。　　

For　the　reader　very　probably；　as　for　most　people　outside　a　

comparatively　small　circle；　it　meant　my　emergence　from　obscurity。　　

We　obtruded　no　editor's　name　in　the　BLUE　WEEKLY；　I　had　never　as　yet　

been　on　the　London　hoardings。　　Before　Handitch　I　was　a　journalist　

and　writer　of　no　great　public　standing；　after　Handitch；　I　was　

definitely　a　person；　in　the　little　group　of　persons　who　stood　for　

the　Young　Imperialist　movement。　　Handitch　was；　to　a　very　large　

extent；　my　affair。　　I　realised　then；　as　a　man　comes　to　do；　how　much　

one　can　still　grow　after　seven　and　twenty。　　In　the　second　election　I　

was　a　man　taking　hold　of　things；　at　Kinghamstead　I　had　been　simply　a　

young　candidate；　a　party　unit；　led　about　the　constituency；　told　to　

do　this　and　that；　and　finally　washed　in　by　the　great　Anti…

Imperialist　flood；　like　a　starfish　rolling　up　a　beach。



My　feminist　views　had　earnt　the　mistrust　of　the　party；　and　I　do　not　

think　I　should　have　got　the　chance　of　Handitch　or　indeed　any　chance　

at　all　of　Parliament　for　a　long　time；　if　it　had　not　been　that　the　

seat　with　its　long　record　of　Liberal　victories　and　its　Liberal　

majority　of　3642　at　the　last　election；　offered　a　hopeless　contest。　　

The　Liberal　dissensions　and　the　belated　but　by　no　means　contemptible　

Socialist　candidate　were　providential　interpositions。　　I　think；　

however；　the　conduct　of　Gane；　Crupp；　and　Tarvrille　in　coming　down　to　

fight　for　me；　did　count　tremendously　in　my　favour。　　〃We　aren't　going　

to　win；　perhaps；〃　said　Crupp；　〃but　we　are　going　to　talk。〃　　And　until　

the　very　eve　of　victory；　we　treated　Handitch　not　so　much　as　a　

battlefield　as　a　hoarding。　　And　so　it　was　the　Endowment　of　

Motherhood　as　a　practical　form　of　Eugenics　got　into　English　

politics。



Plutus；　our　agent；　was　scared　out　of　his　wits　when　the　thing　began。



〃They're　ascribing　all　sorts　of　queer　ideas　to　you　about　the　

Family；〃　he　said。



〃I　think　the　Family　exists　for　the　good　of　the　children；〃　I　said；　

〃is　that　queer？〃



〃Not　when　you　explain　itbut　they　won't　let　you　explain　it。　　And　

about　marriage？〃



〃I'm　all　right　about　marriagetrust　me。〃



〃Of　course；　if　YOU　had　children；〃　said　Plutus；　rather　

inconsiderately。　。　。　。



They　opened　fire　upon　me　in　a　little　electioneering　rag　call　the　

HANDITCH　SENTINEL；　with　a　string　of　garbled　quotations　and　

misrepresentations　that　gave　me　an　admirable　text　for　a　speech。　　I　

spoke　for　an　hour　and　ten　minutes　with　a　more　and　more　crumpled　copy　

of　the　SENTINEL　in　my　hand；　and　I　made　the　fullest　and　completest　

exposition　of　the　idea　of　endowing　motherhood　that　I　think　had　ever　

been　made　up　to　that　time　in　England。　　Its　effect　on　the　press　was　

extraordinary。　　The　Liberal　papers　gave　me　quite　unprecedented　space　

under　the　impression　that　I　had　only　to　be　given　rope　to　hang　

myself；　the　Conservatives　cut　me　down　or　tried　to　justify　me；　the　

whole　country　was　talking。　　I　had　had　a　pamphlet　in　type　upon　the　

subject；　and　I　revised　this　carefully　and　put　it　on　the　book…stalls　

within　three　days。　　It　sold　enormously　and　brought　me　bushels　of　

letters。　　We　issued　over　three　thousand　in　Handitch　alone。　　At　

meeting　after　meeting　I　was　heckled　upon　nothing　else。　　Long　before　

polling　day　Plutus　was　converted。



〃It's　catching　on　like　old　age　pensions；〃　he　said。　　〃We've　dished　

the　Liberals！　　To　think　that　such　a　project　should　come　from　our　

side！〃



But　it　was　only　with　the　declaration　of　the　poll　that　my　battle　was　

won。　　No　one　expected　more　than　a　snatch　victory；　and　I　was　in　by　

over　fifteen　hundred。　　At　one　bound　Cossington's　papers　passed　from　

apologetics　varied　by　repudiation　to　triumphant　praise。　　〃A　

renascent　England；　breeding　men；〃　said　the　leader　in　his　chief　daily　

on　the　morning　after　the　polling；　and　claimed　that　the　Conservatives　

had　been　ever　the　pioneers　in　sanely　bold