latter-day pamphlets-第50章
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A school; too; of manners and of several other things; the Parliament will doubtless be to the aspirant Statesman; a school better or worse;as the OEil…de…Boeuf likewise was; and as all scenes where men work or live are sure to be。 Especially where many men work together; the very rubbing against one another will grind and polish off their angularities into roundness; into 〃politeness〃 after a sort; and the official man; place him how you may; will never want for schooling; of extremely various kinds。 A first…rate school one cannot call this Parliament for him;I fear to say what rate at present! In so far as it teaches him vigilance; patience; courage; toughness of lungs or of soul; and skill in any kind of swimming; it is a good school。 In so far as it forces him to speak where Nature orders silence; and even; lest all the world should learn his secret (which often enough would kill his secret; and little profit the world); forces him to speak falsities; vague ambiguities; and the froth…dialect usual in Parliaments in these times; it may be considered one of the worst schools ever devised by man; and; I think; may almost challenge the OEil…de…Boeuf to match it in badness。
Parliament will train your men to the manners required of a statesman; but in a much less degree to the intrinsic functions of one。 To these latter; it is capable of mistraining as nothing else can。 Parliament will train you to talk; and above all things to hear; with patience; unlimited quantities of foolish talk。 To tell a good story for yourself; and to make it _appear_ that you have done your work: this; especially in constitutional countries; is something;and yet in all countries; constitutional ones too; it is intrinsically nothing; probably even less。 For it is not the function of any mortal; in Downing Street or elsewhere here below; to wag the tongue of him; and make it appear that he has done work; but to wag some quite other organs of him; and to do work; there is no danger of his work's appearing by and by。 Such an accomplishment; even in constitutional countries; I grieve to say; may become much less than nothing。 Have you at all computed how much less? The human creature who has once given way to satisfying himself with 〃appearances;〃 to seeking his salvation in 〃appearances;〃 the moral life of such human creature is rapidly bleeding out of him。 Depend upon it; Beelzebub; Satan; or however you may name the too authentic Genius of Eternal Death; has got that human creature in his claws。 By and by you will have a dead parliamentary bagpipe; and your living man fled away without return!
Such parliamentary bagpipes I myself have heard play tunes; much to the satisfaction of the people。 Every tune lies within their compass; and their mind (for they still call it _mind_) is ready as a hurdy…gurdy on turning of the handle: 〃My Lords; this question now before the House〃Ye Heavens; O ye divine Silences; was there in the womb of Chaos; then; such a product; liable to be evoked by human art; as that same? While the galleries were all applausive of heart; and the Fourth Estate looked with eyes enlightened; as if you had touched its lips with a staff dipped in honey;I have sat with reflections too ghastly to be uttered。 A poor human creature and learned friend; once possessed of many fine gifts; possessed of intellect; veracity; and manful conviction on a variety of objects; has he now lost all that;converted all that into a glistering phosphorescence which can show itself on the outside; while within; all is dead; chaotic; dark; a painted sepulchre full of dead…men's bones! Discernment; knowledge; intellect; in the human sense of the words; this man has now none。 His opinion you do not ask on any matter: on the _matter_ he has no opinion; judgment; or insight; only on what may be said about the matter; how it may be argued of; what tune may be played upon it to enlighten the eyes of the Fourth Estate。
Such a soul; though to the eye he still keeps tumbling about in the Parliamentary element; and makes 〃motions;〃 and passes bills; for aught I know;are we to define him as a _living_ one; or as a dead? Partridge the Almanac…Maker; whose 〃Publications〃 still regularly appear; is known to be dead! The dog that was drowned last summer; and that floats up and down the Thames with ebb and flood ever since;is it not dead? Alas; in the hot months; you meet here and there such a floating dog; and at length; if you often use the river steamers; get to know him by sight。 〃There he is again; still astir there in his quasi…stygian element!〃 you dejectedly exclaim (perhaps reading your Morning Newspaper at the moment); and reflect; with a painful oppression of nose and imagination; on certain completed professors of parliamentary eloquence in modern times。 Dead long since; but _not_ resting; daily doing motions in that Westminster region still;daily from Vauxhall to Blackfriars; and back again; and cannot get away at all! Daily (from Newspaper or river steamer) you may see him at some point of his fated course; hovering in the eddies; stranded in the ooze; or rapidly progressing with flood or ebb; and daily the odor of him is getting more intolerable: daily the condition of him appeals more tragically to gods and men。
Nature admits no lie; most men profess to be aware of this; but few in any measure lay it to heart。 Except in the departments of mere material manipulation; it seems to be taken practically as if this grand truth were merely a polite flourish of rhetoric。 What is a lie? The question is worth asking; once and away; by the practical English mind。
A voluntary spoken divergence from the fact as it stands; as it has occurred and will proceed to develop itself: this clearly; if adopted by any man; will so far forth mislead him in all practical dealing with the fact; till he cast that statement out of him; and reject it as an unclean poisonous thing; he can have no success in dealing with the fact。 If such spoken divergence from the truth be involuntary; we lament it as a misfortune; and are entitled; at least the speaker of it is; to lament it extremely as the most palpable of all misfortunes; as the indubitablest losing of his way; and turning aside from the goal instead of pressing towards it; in the race set before him。 If the divergence is voluntary;there superadds itself to our sorrow a just indignation: we call the voluntary spoken divergence a lie; and justly abhor it as the essence of human treason and baseness; the desertion of a man to the Enemy of men against himself and his brethren。 A lost deserter; who has gone over to the Enemy; called Satan; and cannot _but_ be lost in the adventure! Such is every liar with the tongue; and such in all nations is he; at all epochs; considered。 Men pull his nose; and kick him out of doors; and by peremptory expressive methods signify that they can and will have no trade with him。 Such is spoken divergence from the fact; so fares it with the practiser of that sad art。
But have we well considered a divergence _in thought_ from what is the fact? Have we considered the man whose very thought is a lie to him and to us! He too is a frightful man; repeating about this Universe on every hand what is not; and driven to repeat it; the sure herald of ruin to all that follow him; that know with _his_ knowledge! And would you learn how to get a mendacious thought; there is no surer recipe than carrying a loose tongue。 The lying thought; you already either have it; or will soon get it by that method。 He who lies with his very tongue; _he_ clearly enough has long ceased to think truly in his mind。 Does he; in any sense; 〃think〃? All his thoughts and imaginations; if they extend beyond mere beaverisms; astucities and sensualisms; are false; incomplete; perverse; untrue even to himself。 He has become a false mirror of this Universe; not a small mirror only; but a crooked; bedimmed and utterly deranged one。 But all loose tongues too are akin to lying ones; are insincere at the best; and go rattling with little meaning; the thought lying languid at a great distance behind them; if thought there be behind them at all。 Gradually there will be none or little! How can the thought o