the new machiavelli-第83章

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excellencies　of　that　Break…up　of　the　Poor　Law　agitation；　which　had　

been　organised　originally　by　Beatrice　and　Sidney　Webb。　　In　addition；　

without　any　very　definite　explanation　to　any　one　but　Esmeer　and　

Isabel　Rivers；　and　as　if　it　was　quite　a　small　matter；　I　set　myself　

to　secure　a　uniform　philosophical　quality　in　our　columns。



That；　indeed；　was　the　peculiar　virtue　and　characteristic　of　the　BLUE　

WEEKLY。　　I　was　now　very　definitely　convinced　that　much　of　the　

confusion　and　futility　of　contemporary　thought　was　due　to　the　

general　need　of　metaphysical　training。　。　。　。　　The　great　mass　of　

peopleand　not　simply　common　people；　but　people　active　and　

influential　in　intellectual　thingsare　still　quite　untrained　in　the　

methods　of　thought　and　absolutely　innocent　of　any　criticism　of　

method；　it　is　scarcely　a　caricature　to　call　their　thinking　a　crazy　

patchwork；　discontinuous　and　chaotic。　　They　arrive　at　conclusions　by　

a　kind　of　accident；　and　do　not　suspect　any　other　way　may　be　found　to　

their　attainment。　　A　stage　above　this　general　condition　stands　that　

minority　of　people　who　have　at　some　time　or　other　discovered　general　

terms　and　a　certain　use　for　generalisations。　　They　areto　fall　back　

on　the　ancient　technicalityRealists　of　a　crude　sort。　　When　I　say　

Realist　of　course　I　mean　Realist　as　opposed　to　Nominalist；　and　not　

Realist　in　the　almost　diametrically　different　sense　of　opposition　to　

Idealist。　　Such　are　the　Baileys；　such；　to　take　their　great　

prototype；　was　Herbert　Spencer　（who　couldn't　read　Kant）；　such　are　

whole　regiments　of　prominent　and　entirely　self…satisfied　

contemporaries。　　They　go　through　queer　little　processes　of　

definition　and　generalisation　and　deduction　with　the　completest　

belief　in　the　validity　of　the　intellectual　instrument　they　are　

using。　　They　are　RealistsCocksuristsin　matter　of　fact；　

sentimentalists　in　behaviour。　　The　Baileys　having　got　to　this　

glorious　stage　in　mental　developmentit　is　glorious　because　it　has　

no　doubtswere　always　talking　about　training　〃Experts〃　to　apply　the　

same　simple　process　to　all　the　affairs　of　mankind。　　Well；　Realism　

isn't　the　last　word　of　human　wisdom。　　Modest…minded　people；　doubtful　

people；　subtle　people；　and　the　likethe　kind　of　people　William　

James　writes　of　as　〃tough…minded；〃　go　on　beyond　this　methodical　

happiness；　and　are　forever　after　critical　of　premises　and　terms。　　

They　are　truerand　less　confident。　　They　have　reached　scepticism　

and　the　artistic　method。　　They　have　emerged　into　the　new　Nominalism。



Both　Isabel　and　I　believe　firmly　that　these　differences　of　

intellectual　method　matter　profoundly　in　the　affairs　of　mankind；　

that　the　collective　mind　of　this　intricate　complex　modern　state　can　

only　function　properly　upon　neo…Nominalist　lines。　　This　has　always　

been　her　side　of　our　mental　co…operation　rather　than　mine。　　Her　mind　

has　the　light　movement　that　goes　so　often　with　natural　mental　power；　

she　has　a　wonderful　art　in　illustration；　and；　as　the　reader　probably　

knows　already；　she　writes　of　metaphysical　matters　with　a　rare　charm　

and　vividness。　　So　far　there　has　been　no　collection　of　her　papers　

published；　but　they　are　to　be　found　not　only　in　the　BLUE　WEEKLY　

columns　but　scattered　about　the　monthlies；　many　people　must　be　

familiar　with　her　style。　　It　was　an　intention　we　did　much　to　realise　

before　our　private　downfall；　that　we　would　use　the　BLUE　WEEKLY　to　

maintain　a　stream　of　suggestion　against　crude　thinking；　and　at　last　

scarcely　a　week　passed　but　some　popular　distinction；　some　large　

imposing　generalisation；　was　touched　to　flaccidity　by　her　pen　or　

mine。　。　。　。



I　was　at　great　pains　to　give　my　philosophical；　political；　and　social　

matter　the　best　literary　and　critical　backing　we　could　get　in　

London。　　I　hunted　sedulously　for　good　descriptive　writing　and　good　

criticism；　I　was　indefatigable　in　my　readiness　to　hear　and　consider；　

if　not　to　accept　advice；　I　watched　every　corner　of　the　paper；　and　

had　a　dozen　men　alert　to　get　me　special　matter　of　the　sort　that　

draws　in　the　unattached　reader。　　The　chief　danger　on　the　literary　

side　of　a　weekly　is　that　it　should　fall　into　the　hands　of　some　

particular　school；　and　this　I　watched　for　closely。　　It　seems　

impossible　to　get　vividness　of　apprehension　and　breadth　of　view　

together　in　the　same　critic。　　So　it　falls　to　the　wise　editor　to　

secure　the　first　and　impose　the　second。　　Directly　I　detected　the　

shrill　partisan　note　in　our　criticism；　the　attempt　to　puff　a　poor　

thing　because　it　was　〃in　the　right　direction；〃　or　damn　a　vigorous　

piece　of　work　because　it　wasn't；　I　tackled　the　man　and　had　it　out　

with　him。　　Our　pay　was　good　enough　for　that　to　matter　a　good　deal。　。　。　。



Our　distinctive　little　blue　and　white　poster　kept　up　its　neat　

persistent　appeal　to　the　public　eye；　and　before　1911　was　out；　the　

BLUE　WEEKLY　was　printing　twenty　pages　of　publishers'　advertisements；　

and　went　into　all　the　clubs　in　London　and　three…quarters　of　the　

country　houses　where　week…end　parties　gather　together。　　Its　sale　by　

newsagents　and　bookstalls　grew　steadily。　　One　got　more　and　more　the　

reassuring　sense　of　being　discussed；　and　influencing　discussion。







5





Our　office　was　at　the　very　top　of　a　big　building　near　the　end　of　

Adelphi　Terrace；　the　main　window　beside　my　desk；　a　big　undivided　

window　of　plate　glass；　looked　out　upon　Cleopatra's　Needle；　the　

corner　of　the　Hotel　Cecil；　the　fine　arches　of　Waterloo　Bridge；　and　

the　long　sweep　of　south　bank　with　its　shot　towers　and　chimneys；　past　

Bankside　to　the　dimly　seen　piers　of　the　great　bridge　below　the　

Tower。　　The　dome　of　St。　Paul's　just　floated　into　view　on　the　left　

against　the　hotel　facade。　　By　night　and　day；　in　every　light　and　

atmosphere；　it　was　a　beautiful　and　various　view；　alive　as　a　

throbbing　heart；　a　perpetual　flow　of　traffic　ploughed　and　splashed　

the　streaming　silver　of　the　river；　and　by　night　the　shapes　of　things　

became　velvet　black　and　grey；　and　the　water　a　shining　mirror　of　

steel；　wearing　coruscating　gems　of　light。　　In　the　foreground　the　

Embankment　trams　sailed　glowing　by；　across　the　water　advertisements　

flashed　and　flickered；　trains　went　and　came　and　a　rolling　drift　of　

smoke　reflected　unseen　fires。　　By　day　that　spectacle　was　sometimes　a　

marvel　of　shining　wet　and　wind…cleared　atmosphere；　sometimes　a　

mystery　of　drifting　fog；　sometimes　a　miracle　of　crowded　details；　

minutely　fine。



As　I　think　of　that　view；　so　variously　spacious　in　effect；　I　am　back　

there；　and　this　sunlit　paper　might　be　lamp…lit　and　lying　on　my　old　

desk。　　I　see　it　all　again；　feel　it　all　again。　　In　the　foreground　is　

a　green　shaded　lamp　and　crumpled　galley　slips　and　paged　proofs　and　

letters；　two　or　three　papers　in　manuscript；　and　so　forth。　　In　the　

shadows　are　chairs　and　another　table　bearing　papers　and　books；　a　

rotating　bookcase　dimly　seen；　a　long　window　seat　black　in　the　

darkness；　and　then　the　cool　unbroken　spectacle　of　the　window。　　How　

often　I　would　watch　some　tram…car；　some　string　of　barges　go　from　me　

slowly　out　of　sight。　　The　people　were　black　animalculae　by　day；　

clustering；　collecting；　dispersing；　by　night；　they　were　phantom　

face…specks　coming；　vanishing；　stirring　obscurely　between　light　and　

shade。



I　recall　many　hours　at　my　desk　in　that　room　before　the　crisis　came；　

hours　full　of　the　peculiar　happiness　of　effective　strenuous　work。　　

Once　some　piece　of　writing　went　on；　holding　me　intent　and　forgetful　

of　time　until　I　looked　up　from　the　warm　circle　of　my　electric　lamp　

to　see　the　eastward　sky　above　the　pale　silhouette　of　the　Tower　

Bridge；　flushed　and　banded　brightly　with　the　dawn。







CHAPTER　THE　FOURTH



THE　BESETTING　OF　SEX







1





Art　is　selection　and　so　is　most　autobiography。　　But　I　am　concerned　

with　a　more　tangled　business　than　selection；　I　want　to　show　a　

contemporary　man　in　relation　to　the　state　and　social　usage；　and　the　

social　organism　in　relation　to　that　man。　　To　tell　my　story　at　all　I