the research magnificent-第18章

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o　by　claiming　him　as　probably　the　only　other　sound　Christian　in　the　room。　　Several　biologists　were　present；　and　one　tall；　fair　youth　with　a　wearisome　forefinger　tried　to　pin　Carnac　with　questions。　〃But　you　must　admit　some　men　are　taller　than　others？〃　〃Then　the　others　are　broader。〃　〃Some　are　smaller　altogether。〃　〃Nimblerit's　notorious。〃　〃Some　of　the　smaller　are　less　nimble　than　the　others。〃　〃Then　they　have　better　nightmares。　　How　can　you　tell？〃　The　biologist　was　temporarily　incapacitated；　and　the　talk　went　on　over　his　prostrate　attempts　to　rally　and　protest。　A　second　biologist　seemed　to　Benham　to　come　nearer　the　gist　of　the　dispute　when　he　said　that　they　were　not　discussing　the　importance　of　men；　but　their　relative　inequalities。　　Nobody　was　denying　the　equal　importance　of　everybody。　　But　there　was　a　virtue　of　this　man　and　a　virtue　of　that。　　Nobody　could　dispute　the　equal　importance　of　every　wheel　in　a　machine；　of　every　atom　in　the　universe。　　Prothero　and　Carnac　were　angry　because　they　thought　the　denial　of　absolute　equality　was　a　denial　of　equal　importance。　　That　was　not　so。　　Every　man　mattered　in　his　place。　　But　politically；　or　economically；　or　intellectually　that　might　be　a　lowly　place。　。　。　。　At　this　point　Carnac　interrupted　with　a　whooping　and　great　violence；　and　a　volley　of　obscure　French　colloquialisms。　He　was　understood　to　convey　that　the　speaker　was　a　Jew；　and　did　not　in　the　least　mean　what　he　was　saying。　。　。　。

15

The　second　paper　was　an　altogether　maturer　and　more　characteristic　production。　　It　was　no　longer　necessary　to　answer　Prothero。　Prothero　had　been　incorporated。　　And　Benham　had　fairly　got　away　with　his　great　idea。　　It　was　evident　to　White　that　this　paper　had　been　worked　over　on　several　occasions　since　its　first　composition　and　that　Benham　had　intended　to　make　it　a　part　of　his　book。　　There　were　corrections　in　pencil　and　corrections　in　a　different　shade　of　ink；　and　there　was　an　unfinished　new　peroration；　that　was　clearly　the　latest　addition　of　all。　　Yet　its　substance　had　been　there　always。　It　gave　the　youth　just　grown　to　manhood；　but　anyhow　fully　grown。　　It　presented　the　far…dreaming　intellectualist　shaped。　Benham　had　called　it　ARISTOCRACY。　　But　he　was　far　away　by　now　from　political　aristocracy。　This　time　he　had　not　begun　with　definitions　and　generalizations；　but　with　a　curiously　subjective　appeal。　　He　had　not　pretended　to　be　theorizing　at　large　any　longer；　he　was　manifestly　thinking　of　his　own　life　and　as　manifestly　he　was　thinking　of　life　as　a　matter　of　difficulty　and　unexpected　thwartings。　〃We　see　life；〃　he　wrote；　〃not　only　life　in　the　world　outside　us；　but　life　in　our　own　selves；　as　an　immense　choice　of　possibilities；　indeed；　for　us　in　particular　who　have　come　up　here；　who　are　not　under　any　urgent　necessity　to　take　this　line　or　that；　life　is　apparently　pure　choice。　　It　is　quite　easy　to　think　we　are　all　going　to　choose　the　pattern　of　life　we　like　best　and　work　it　out　in　our　own　way。　。　。　。　　And；　meanwhile；　there　is　no　great　hurry。　。　。　。　〃I　want　to　begin　by　saying　that　choice　isn't　so　easy　and　so　necessary　as　it　seems。　　We　think　we　are　going　to　choose　presently；　and　in　the　end　we　may　never　choose　at　all。　　Choice　needs　perhaps　more　energy　than　we　think。　　The　great　multitude　of　older　people　we　can　observe　in　the　world　outside　there；　haven't　chosen　either　in　the　matter　of　the　world　outside；　where　they　shall　go；　what　they　shall　do；　what　part　they　shall　play；　or　in　the　matter　of　the　world　within；　what　they　will　be　and　what　they　are　determined　they　will　never　be。　They　are　still　in　much　the　same　state　of　suspended　choice　as　we　seem　to　be　in；　but　in　the　meanwhile　THINGS　HAPPEN　TO　THEM。　　And　things　are　happening　to　us；　things　will　happen　to　us；　while　we　still　suppose　ourselves　in　the　wings　waiting　to　be　consulted　about　the　casting　of　the　piece。　。　。　。　〃Nevertheless　this　immense　appearance　of　choice　which　we　get　in　the　undergraduate　community　here；　is　not　altogether　illusion；　it　is　more　reality　than　illusion　even　if　it　has　not　the　stable　and　complete　reality　it　appears　to　have。　　And　it　is　more　a　reality　for　us　than　it　was　for　our　fathers；　and　much　more　a　reality　now　than　it　was　a　few　centuries　ago。　　The　world　is　more　confused　and　multitudinous　than　ever　it　was；　the　practicable　world　far　wider；　and　ourselves　far　less　under　the　pressure　of　inflexible　moulding　forces　and　inevitable　necessities　than　any　preceding　generations。　　I　want　to　put　very　clearly　how　I　see　the　new　world；　the　present　world；　the　world　of　novel　choice　to　which　our　youth　and　inexperience　faces；　and　I　want　to　define　to　you　a　certain　selection　of　choices　which　I　am　going　to　call　aristocratic；　and　to　which　it　is　our　manifest　duty　and　destiny　as　the　elect　and　favoured　sons　of　our　race　to　direct　ourselves。　〃It　isn't　any　choice　of　Hercules　I　mean；　any　mere　alternative　whether　we　will　be；　how　shall　I　put　it？the　bridegrooms　of　pleasure　or　the　bridegrooms　of　duty。　　It　is　infinitely　vaster　and　more　subtly　moral　than　that。　　There　are　a　thousand　good　lives　possible；　of　which　we　may　have　one；　lives　which　are　soundly　good；　or　a　thousand　bad　lives；　if　you　like；　lives　which　are　thoroughly　badthat's　the　old　and　perpetual　choice；　that　has　always　beenbut　what　is　more　evident　to　me　and　more　remarkable　and　disconcerting　is　that　there　are　nowadays　ten　thousand　muddled　lives　lacking　even　so　much　moral　definition；　even　so　much　consistency　as　is　necessary　for　us　to　call　them　either　good　or　bad；　there　are　planless　indeterminate　lives；　more　and　more　of　them；　opening　out　as　the　possible　lives　before　us；　a　perfect　wilderness　between　salvation　and　damnation；　a　wilderness　so　vast　and　crowded　that　at　last　it　seems　as　though　the　way　to　either　hell　or　heaven　would　be　lost　in　its　interminable　futility。　Such　planless　indeterminate　lives；　plebeian　lives；　mere　lives；　fill　the　world；　and　the　spectacle　of　whole　nations；　our　whole　civilization；　seems　to　me　to　re…echo　this　planlessness；　this　indeterminate　confusion　of　purpose。　　Plain　issues　are　harder　and　harder　to　find；　it　is　as　if　they　had　disappeared。　　Simple　living　is　the　countryman　come　to　town。　　We　are　deafened　and　jostled　and　perplexed。　　There　are　so　many　things　afoot　that　we　get　nothing。　。　。　。　〃That　is　what　is　in　my　mind　when　I　tell　you　that　we　have　to　gather　ourselves　together　much　more　than　we　think。　　We　have　to　clench　ourselves　upon　a　chosen　end。　　We　have　to　gather　ourselves　together　out　of　the　swill　of　this　brimming　world。　〃Orwe　are　lost。　。　。　。〃　（〃Swill　of　this　brimming　world；〃　said　White。　　〃Some　of　this　sounds　uncommonly　like　Prothero。〃　　He　mused　for　a　moment　and　then　resumed　his　reading。）　〃That　is　what　I　was　getting　at　when；　three　years　ago；　I　made　an　attack　upon　Democracy　to　the　mother　society　of　this　society；　an　attack　that　I　expressed　ill　and　failed　to　drive　home。　　That　is　what　I　have　come　down　now　to　do　my　best　to　make　plainer。　　This　age　of　confusion　is　Democracy；　it　is　all　that　Democracy　can　ever　give　us。　Democracy；　if　it　means　anything；　means　the　rule　of　the　planless　man；　the　rule　of　the　unkempt　mind。　　It　means　as　a　necessary　consequence　this　vast　boiling　up　of　collectively　meaningless　things。　〃What　is　the　quality　of　the　common　man；　I　mean　of　the　man　that　is　common　to　all　of　us；　the　man　who　is　the　Standard　for　such　men　as　Carnac；　the　man　who　seems　to　be　the　ideal　of　the　Catholic　Democrat？　He　is　the　creature　of　a　few　fundamental　impulses。　　He　begins　in　blind　imitation　of　the　life　about　him。　　He　lusts　and　takes　a　wife；　he　hungers　and　tills　a　field　or　toils　in　some　other　way　to　earn　a　living；　a　mere　aimless　living；　he　fears　and　so　he　does　not　wander；　he　is　jealous　and　stays　by　his　wife　and　his　job；　is　fiercely　yet　often　stupidly　and　injuriously　defensive　of　his　children　and　his　possessions；　and　so　until　he　wearies。　　Then　he　dies　and　needs　a　cemetery。　　He　needs　a　cemetery　because　he　is　so　afraid　of　dissolution　that　even　when　he　has　ceased　to　be；　he　still　wants　a　place　and　a　grave　to　hold　him　together　and　prevent　his　returning　to　the　All　that　made　him。　　Our　chief　impression　of　long　ages　of　mankind　comes　from　its　cemeteries。　　And　this　is　the　life　of　man；　as　the　common　man　conceives　and　lives　it。　　Beyond　that　he　does　not　go；　he　never　comprehends　himself　collectively　at　all；　the　state　happens　about　him；　his　passion　for　security；　his　gregarious　self…　defensiveness；　makes　him　accumulate　upon　himself　until　he　congests　in　cities　that　have　no　sense　of　citizenship　and　states　that　have　no　structure；　the　clumsy；　inconsecutive　lying　and　chatter　of　his　newspapers；　his　hoardings　and　music…halls　gives　the　measure　of　his　congested　intelligences；　the　confusion　of　ugly；　half　empty　churches　and　chapels　and　meeting…halls　gauge　the　intensity　of　his　congested　souls；　the　tricks　and　slow　blundering　dishonesties　of　Diet　and　Congress　and　Parliament　are　his　statecraft　and　his　wisdom。　。　。　。　〃I　do　not　care　if　this　instant　I　am　stricken　dead　for　pride。　　I　say　here　now　to　you　and　to　High　Heaven　that　THIS　LIFE　IS　NOT　GOOD　ENOUGH　FOR　ME。　　I　know　there　is　a　better　life　than　this　muddle　about　us；　a　better　life　possible　now。　　I　know　it。　　A　better　individual　life　and　a　better　public　life。　　If　I　had　no　other　assurances；　if　I　were　blind　to　the　glorious　intimations　of　art；　to　the　perpetually　widening　promise　of　science；　to　the　mysterious　beckonings　of　beauty　in　form　and　colour　and