the new machiavelli-第31章

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possible　developments；　and　the　chances　of　some　great　constructive　

movement　coming　from　the　heart…searchings　the　Boer　war　had　

occasioned。　　We　would　sink　to　gossipeven　at　the　Suetonius　level。　　

Willersley　would　decline　towards　illuminating　anecdotes　that　I　

capped　more　or　less　loosely　from　my　private　reading。　　We　were　

particularly　wise；　I　remember；　upon　the　management　of　newspapers；　

because　about　that　we　knew　nothing　whatever。　　We　perceived　that　

great　things　were　to　be　done　through　newspapers。　　We　talked　of　

swaying　opinion　and　moving　great　classes　to　massive　action。



Men　are　egotistical　even　in　devotion。　　All　our　splendid　projects　

were　thickset　with　the　first　personal　pronoun。　　We　both　could　write；　

and　all　that　we　said　in　general　terms　was　reflected　in　the　

particular　in　our　minds；　it　was　ourselves　we　saw；　and　no　others；　

writing　and　speaking　that　moving　word。　　We　had　already　produced　

manuscript　and　passed　the　initiations　of　proof　reading；　I　had　been　a　

frequent　speaker　in　the　Union；　and　Willersley　was　an　active　man　on　

the　School　Board。　　Our　feet　were　already　on　the　lower　rungs　that　led　

up　and　up。　　He　was　six　and　twenty；　and　I　twenty…two。　　We　intimated　

our　individual　careers　in　terms　of　bold　expectation。　　I　had　

prophetic　glimpses　of　walls　and　hoardings　clamorous　with　〃Vote　for　

Remington；〃　and　Willersley　no　doubt　saw　himself　chairman　of　this　

committee　and　that；　saying　a　few　slightly　ironical　words　after　the　

declaration　of　the　poll；　and　then　sitting　friendly　beside　me　on　the　

government　benches。　　There　was　nothing　impossible　in　such　dreams。　　

Why　not　the　Board　of　Education　for　him？　　My　preference　at　that　time　

wavered　between　the　Local　Government　BoardI　had　great　ideas　about　

town…planning；　about　revisions　of　municipal　areas　and　re…organised　

internal　transitand　the　War　Office。　　I　swayed　strongly　towards　the　

latter　as　the　journey　progressed。　　My　educational　bias　came　later。



The　swelling　ambitions　that　have　tramped　over　Alpine　passes！　　How　

many　of　them；　like　mine；　have　come　almost　within　sight　of　

realisation　before　they　failed？



There　were　times　when　we　posed　like　young　gods　（of　unassuming　

exterior）；　and　times　when　we　were　full　of　the　absurdest　little　

solicitudes　about　our　prospects。　　There　were　times　when　one　surveyed　

the　whole　world　of　men　as　if　it　was　a　little　thing　at　one's　feet；　

and　by　way　of　contrast　I　remember　once　lying　in　bedit　must　have　

been　during　this　holiday；　though　I　cannot　for　the　life　of　me　fix　

whereand　speculating　whether　perhaps　some　day　I　might　not　be　a　

K。　C。　B。；　Sir　Richard　Remington；　K。　C。　B。；　M。　P。



But　the　big　style　prevailed。　。　。　。



We　could　not　tell　from　minute　to　minute　whether　we　were　planning　for　

a　world　of　solid　reality；　or　telling　ourselves　fairy　tales　about　

this　prospect　of　life。　　So　much　seemed　possible；　and　everything　we　

could　think　of　so　improbable。　　There　were　lapses　when　it　seemed　to　

me　I　could　never　be　anything　but　just　the　entirely　unimportant　and　

undistinguished　young　man　I　was　for　ever　and　ever。　　I　couldn't　even　

think　of　myself　as　five　and　thirty。



Once　I　remember　Willersley　going　over　a　list　of　failures；　and　why　

they　had　failedbut　young　men　in　the　twenties　do　not　know　much　

about　failures。







10





Willersley　and　I　professed　ourselves　Socialists；　but　by　this　time　I　

knew　my　Rodbertus　as　well　as　my　Marx；　and　there　was　much　in　our　

socialism　that　would　have　shocked　Chris　Robinson　as　much　as　anything　

in　life　could　have　shocked　him。　　Socialism　as　a　simple　democratic　

cry　we　had　done　with　for　ever。　　We　were　socialists　because　

Individualism　for　us　meant　muddle；　meant　a　crowd　of　separated；　

undisciplined　little　people　all　obstinately　and　ignorantly　doing　

things　jarringly；　each　one　in　his　own　way。　　〃Each；〃　I　said　quoting　

words　of　my　father's　that　rose　apt　in　my　memory；　〃snarling　from　his　

own　little　bit　of　property；　like　a　dog　tied　to　a　cart's　tail。〃



〃Essentially；〃　said　Willersley；　〃essentially　we're　for　conscription；　

in　peace　and　war　alike。　　The　man　who　owns　property　is　a　public　

official　and　has　to　behave　as　such。　　That's　the　gist　of　socialism　as　

I　understand　it。〃



〃Or　be　dismissed　from　his　post；〃　I　said；　〃　and　replaced　by　some　

better　sort　of　official。　　A　man's　none　the　less　an　official　because　

he's　irresponsible。　　What　he　does　with　his　property　affects　people　

just　the　same。　　Private！　　No　one　is　really　private　but　an　outlaw。　。　。　。



Order　and　devotion　were　the　very　essence　of　our　socialism；　and　a　

splendid　collective　vigour　and　happiness　its　end。　　We　projected　an　

ideal　state；　an　organised　state　as　confident　and　powerful　as　modern　

science；　as　balanced　and　beautiful　as　a　body；　as　beneficent　as　

sunshine；　the　organised　state　that　should　end　muddle　for　ever；　it　

ruled　all　our　ideals　and　gave　form　to　all　our　ambitions。



Every　man　was　to　be　definitely　related　to　that；　to　have　his　

predominant　duty　to　that。　　Such　was　the　England　renewed　we　had　in　

mind；　and　how　to　serve　that　end；　to　subdue　undisciplined　worker　and　

undisciplined　wealth　to　it；　and　make　the　Scientific　Commonweal；　

King；　was　the　continuing　substance　of　our　intercourse。







11





Every　day　the　wine　of　the　mountains　was　stronger　in　our　blood；　and　

the　flush　of　our　youth　deeper。　　We　would　go　in　the　morning　sunlight　

along　some　narrow　Alpine　mule…path　shouting　large　suggestions　for　

national　re…organisation；　and　weighing　considerations　as　lightly　as　

though　the　world　was　wax　in　our　hands。　　〃Great　England；〃　we　said　in　

effect；　over　and　over　again；　〃and　we　will　be　among　the　makers！　　

England　renewed！　　The　country　has　been　warned；　it　has　learnt　its　

lesson。　　The　disasters　and　anxieties　of　the　war　have　sunk　in。　　

England　has　become　serious。　。　。　。　　Oh！　there　are　big　things　before　

us　to　do；　big　enduring　things！〃



One　evening　we　walked　up　to　the　loggia　of　a　little　pilgrimage　

church；　I　forget　its　name；　that　stands　out　on　a　conical　hill　at　the　

head　of　a　winding　stair　above　the　town　of　Locarno。　　Down　below　the　

houses　clustered　amidst　a　confusion　of　heat…bitten　greenery。　　　I　had　

been　sitting　silently　on　the　parapet；　looking　across　to　the　purple　

mountain　masses　where　Switzerland　passes　into　Italy；　and　the　drift　

of　our　talk　seemed　suddenly　to　gather　to　a　head。



I　broke　into　speech；　giving　form　to　the　thoughts　that　had　been　

accumulating。　　My　words　have　long　since　passed　out　of　my　memory；　the　

phrases　of　familiar　expression　have　altered　for　me；　but　the　

substance　remains　as　clear　as　ever。　　I　said　how　we　were　in　our　

measure　emperors　and　kings；　men　undriven；　free　to　do　as　we　pleased　

with　life；　we　classed　among　the　happy　ones；　our　bread　and　common　

necessities　were　given　us　for　nothing；　we　had　abilities；it　wasn't　

modesty　but　cowardice　to　behave　as　if　we　hadn'tand　Fortune　watched　

us　to　see　what　we　might　do　with　opportunity　and　the　world。



〃There　are　so　many　things　to　do；　you　see；〃　began　Willersley；　in　his　

judicial　lecturer's　voice。



〃So　many　things　we　may　do；〃　I　interrupted；　〃with　all　these　years　

before　us。　。　。　。　　We're　exceptional　men。　　It's　our　place；　our　duty；　

to　do　things。〃



〃Here　anyhow；〃　I　said；　answering　the　faint　amusement　of　his　face；　

〃I've　got　no　modesty。　　Everything　conspires　to　set　me　up。　　Why　

should　I　run　about　like　all　those　grubby　little　beasts　down　there；　

seeking　nothing　but　mean　little　vanities　and　indulgenciesand　then　

take　credit　for　modesty？　　I　KNOW　I　am　capable。　　I　KNOW　I　have　

imagination。　　Modesty！　　I　know　if　I　don't　attempt　the　very　biggest　

things　in　life　I　am　a　damned　shirk。　　The　very　biggest！　　Somebody　has　

to　attempt　them。　　I　feel　like　a　loaded　gun　that　is　only　a　little　

perplexed　because　it　has　to　find　out　just　where　to　aim　itself。　。　。　。〃



The　lake　and　the　frontier　villages；　a　white　puff　of　steam　on　the　

distant　railway　to　Luino；　the　busy　boats　and　steamers　trailing　

triangular　wakes　of　foam；　the　long　vista　eastward　towards　

battlemented