the new machiavelli-第24章

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thing　he　would　have　told　a　lie　about。



When　I　think　of　Codger　I　am　reminded　of　an　inscription　I　saw　on　some　

occasion　in　Regent's　Park　above　two　eyes　scarcely　more　limpidly　

innocent　than　his〃Born　in　the　Menagerie。〃　　Never　once　since　Codger　

began　to　display　the　early　promise　of　scholarship　at　the　age　of　

eight　or　more；　had　he　been　outside　the　bars。　　His　utmost　travel　had　

been　to　lecture　here　and　lecture　there。　　His　student　phase　had　

culminated　in　papers　of　quite　exceptional　brilliance；　and　he　had　

gone　on　to　lecture　with　a　cheerful　combination　of　wit　and　mannerism　

that　had　made　him　a　success　from　the　beginning。　　He　has　lectured　

ever　since。　　He　lectures　still。　　Year　by　year　he　has　become　plumper；　

more　rubicund　and　more　and　more　of　an　item　for　the　intelligent　

visitor　to　see。　　Even　in　my　time　he　was　pointed　out　to　people　as　

part　of　our　innumerable　enrichments；　and　obviously　he　knew　it。　　He　

has　become　now　almost　the　leading　Character　in　a　little　donnish　

world　of　much　too　intensely　appreciated　Characters。



He　boasted　he　took　no　exercise；　and　also　of　his　knowledge　of　port　

wine。　　Of　other　wines　he　confessed　quite　frankly　he　had　no　〃special　

knowledge。〃　　Beyond　these　things　he　had　little　pride　except　that　he　

claimed　to　have　read　every　novel　by　a　woman　writer　that　had　ever　

entered　the　Union　Library。　　This；　however；　he　held　to　be　remarkable　

rather　than　ennobling；　and　such　boasts　as　he　made　of　it　were　tinged　

with　playfulness。　　Certainly　he　had　a　scholar's　knowledge　of　the　

works　of　Miss　Marie　Corelli；　Miss　Braddon；　Miss　Elizabeth　Glyn　and　

Madame　Sarah　Grand　that　would　have　astonished　and　flattered　those　

ladies　enormously；　and　he　loved　nothing　so　much　in　his　hours　of　

relaxation　as　to　propound　and　answer　difficult　questions　upon　their　

books。　　Tusher　of　King's　was　his　ineffectual　rival　in　this　field；　

their　bouts　were　memorable　and　rarely　other　than　glorious　for　

Codger；　but　then　Tusher　spread　himself　too　much；　he　also　undertook　

to　rehearse　whole　pages　out　of　Bradshaw；　and　tell　you　with　all　the　

changes　how　to　get　from　any　station　to　any　station　in　Great　Britain　

by　the　nearest　and　cheapest　routes。　。　。　。



Codger　lodged　with　a　little　deaf　innocent　old　lady；　Mrs。　Araminta　

Mergle；　who　was　understood　to　be　herself　a　very　redoubtable　

Character　in　the　Gyp…Bedder　class；　about　her　he　related　quietly　

absurd　anecdotes。　　He　displayed　a　marvellous　invention　in　ascribing　

to　her　plausible　expressions　of　opinion　entirely　identical　in　import　

with　those　of　the　Oxford　and　Harvard　Pragmatists；　against　whom　he　

waged　a　fierce　obscure　war。　。　。　。



It　was　Codger's　function　to　teach　me　philosophy；　philosophy！　the　

intimate　wisdom　of　things。　　He　dealt　in　a　variety　of　Hegelian　stuff　

like　nothing　else　in　the　world；　but　marvellously　consistent　with　

itself。　　It　was　a　wonderful　web　he　spun　out　of　that　queer　big　active　

childish　brain　that　had　never　lusted　nor　hated　nor　grieved　nor　

feared　nor　passionately　loved；a　web　of　iridescent　threads。　　He　had　

luminous　final　theories　about　Love　and　Death　and　Immortality；　odd　

matters　they　seemed　for　him　to　think　about！　and　all　his　woven　

thoughts　lay　across　my　perception　of　the　realities　of　things；　as　

flimsy　and　irrelevant　and　clever　and　beautiful；　oh！as　a　dew…wet　

spider's　web　slung　in　the　morning　sunshine　across　the　black　mouth　of　

a　gun。　。　。　。







4





All　through　those　years　of　development　I　perceive　now　there　must　

have　been　growing　in　me；　slowly；　irregularly；　assimilating　to　itself　

all　the　phrases　and　forms　of　patriotism；　diverting　my　religious　

impulses；　utilising　my　esthetic　tendencies；　my　dominating　idea；　the　

statesman's　idea；　that　idea　of　social　service　which　is　the　

protagonist　of　my　story；　that　real　though　complex　passion　for　

Making；　making　widely　and　greatly；　cities；　national　order；　

civilisation；　whose　interplay　with　all　those　other　factors　in　life　I　

have　set　out　to　present。　　It　was　growing　in　meas　one's　bones　grow；　

no　man　intending　it。



I　have　tried　to　show　how；　quite　early　in　my　life；　the　fact　of　

disorderliness；　the　conception　of　social　life　as　being　a　

multitudinous　confusion　out　of　hand；　came　to　me。　　One　always　of　

course　simplifies　these　things　in　the　telling；　but　I　do　not　think　I　

ever　saw　the　world　at　large　in　any　other　terms。　　I　never　at　any　

stage　entertamed　the　idea　which　sustained　my　mother；　and　which　

sustains　so　many　people　in　the　world；the　idea　that　the　universe；　

whatever　superficial　discords　it　may　present；　is　as　a　matter　of　fact　

〃all　right；〃　is　being　steered　to　definite　ends　by　a　serene　and　

unquestionable　God。　　My　mother　thought　that　Order　prevailed；　and　

that　disorder　was　just　incidental　and　foredoomed　rebellion；　I　feel　

and　have　always　felt　that　order　rebels　against　and　struggles　against　

disorder；　that　order　has　an　up…hill　job；　in　gardens；　experiments；　

suburbs；　everything　alike；　from　the　very　beginnings　of　my　experience　

I　discovered　hostility　to　order；　a　constant　escaping　from　control。



The　current　of　living　and　contemporary　ideas　in　which　my　mind　was　

presently　swimming　made　all　in　the　same　direction；　in　place　of　my　

mother's　attentive；　meticulous　but　occasionally　extremely　irascible　

Providence；　the　talk　was　all　of　the　Struggle　for　Existenc　and　the　

survival　not　of　the　Bestthat　was　nonsense；　but　of　the　fittest　to　

survive。



The　attempts　to　rehabilitate　Faith　in　the　form　of　the　

Individualist's　LAISSEZ　FAIRE　never　won　upon　me。　　I　disliked　Herbert　

Spencer　all　my　life　until　I　read　his　autobiography；　and　then　I　

laughed　a　little　and　loved　him。　　I　remember　as　early　as　the　City　

Merchants'　days　how　Britten　and　I　scoffed　at　that　pompous　question…

begging　word　〃Evolution；〃　having；　so　to　speak；　found　it　out。　　

Evolution；　some　illuminating　talker　had　remarked　at　the　Britten　

lunch　table；　had　led　not　only　to　man；　but　to　the　liver…fluke　and　

skunk；　obviously　it　might　lead　anywhere；　order　came　into　things　only　

through　the　struggling　mind　of　man。　　That　lit　things　wonderfully　for　

us。　　When　I　went　up　to　Cambridge　I　was　perfectly　clear　that　life　was　

a　various　and　splendid　disorder　of　forces　that　the　spirit　of　man　

sets　itself　to　tame。　　I　have　never　since　fallen　away　from　that　

persuasion。



I　do　not　think　I　was　exceptionally　precocious　in　reaching　these　

conclusions　and　a　sort　of　religious　finality　for　myself　by　eighteen　

or　nineteen。　　I　know　men　and　women　vary　very　much　in　these　matters；　

just　as　children　do　in　learning　to　talk。　　Some　will　chatter　at　

eighteen　months　and　some　will　hardly　speak　until　three；　and　the　

thing　has　very　little　to　do　with　their　subsequent　mental　quality。　　

So　it　is　with　young　people；　some　will　begin　their　religious；　their　

social；　their　sexual　interests　at　fourteen；　some　not　until　far　on　in　

the　twenties。　　Britten　and　I　belonged　to　one　of　the　precocious　

types；　and　Cossington　very　probably　to　another。　　It　wasn't　that　

there　was　anything　priggish　about　any　of　us；　we　should　have　been　

prigs　to　have　concealed　our　spontaneous　interests　and　ape　the　

theoretical　boy。



The　world　of　man　centred　for　my　imagination　in　London；　it　still　

centres　there；　the　real　and　present　world；　that　is　to　say；　as　

distinguished　from　the　wonder…lands　of　atomic　and　microscopic　

science　and　the　stars　and　future　time。　　I　had　travelled　scarcely　at　

all；　I　had　never　crossed　the　Channel；　but　I　had　read　copiously　and　I　

had　formed　a　very　good　working　idea　of　this　round　globe　with　its　

mountains　and　wildernesses　and　forests　and　all　the　sorts　and　

conditions　of　human　life　that　were　scattered　over　its　surface。　　It　

was　all　alive；　I　felt；　and　changing　every　day；　how　it　was　changing；　

and　the　changes　men　might　bring　about；　fascinated　my　mind　beyond　

measure。



I　used　to　find　a　charm　in　old　maps　that　showed　The　World　as　Known　to　

the　Ancients；　and　I　wish　I　could　now　without　any　suspicion　of　self…

deception　write　down　compactly　the　world　as　it　was　known　to　me　at　

nineteen。　　So　far　as