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the new machiavelli-第12章

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the Blackfriars。



I heard the paper's name with a queer little shock and surveyed the 

man with interest。  No doubt he was only a successor of the purveyor 

of discords who darkened my boyhood。  It was amazing to find an 

influence so terrible embodied in a creature so palpably petty。  He 

was seated some way down a table at right angles to the one at which 

I sat; a man of mean appearance with a greyish complexion; thin; 

with a square nose; a heavy wiry moustache and a big Adam's apple 

sticking out between the wings of his collar。  He ate with 

considerable appetite and unconcealed relish; and as his jaw was 

underhung; he chummed and made the moustache wave like reeds in the 

swell of a steamer。  It gave him a conscientious look。  After dinner 

he a little forced himself upon me。  At that time; though the shadow 

of my scandal was already upon me; I still seemed to be shaping for 

great successes; and he was glad to be in conversation with me and 

anxious to intimate political sympathy and support。  I tried to make 

him talk of the HOME CHURCHMAN and the kindred publications he ran; 

but he was manifestly ashamed of his job so far as I was concerned。



〃One wants;〃 he said; pitching himself as he supposed in my key; 〃to 

put constructive ideas into our readers; but they are narrow; you 

know; very narrow。  Very。〃  He made his moustache and lips express 

judicious regret。  〃One has to consider them carefully; one has to 

respect their attitudes。  One dare not go too far with them。  One 

has to feel one's way。〃



He chummed and the moustache bristled。



A hireling; beyond question; catering for a demand。  I gathered 

there was a home in Tufnell Park; and three boys to be fed and 

clothed and educated。 。 。 。



I had the curiosity to buy a copy of his magazine afterwards; and it 

seemed much the same sort of thing that had worried my mother in my 

boyhood。  There was the usual Christian hero; this time with mutton…

chop whiskers and a long bare upper lip。  The Jesuits; it seemed; 

were still hard at it; and Heaven frightfully upset about the Sunday 

opening of museums and the falling birth…rate; and as touchy and 

vindictive as ever。  There were two vigorous paragraphs upon the 

utter damnableness of the Rev。 R。 J。 Campbell; a contagious 

damnableness I gathered; one wasn't safe within a mile of Holborn 

Viaduct; and a foul…mouthed attack on poor little Wilkins the 

novelistwho was being baited by the moralists at that time for 

making one of his big women characters; not being in holy wedlock; 

desire a baby and say so。 。 。 。



The broadening of human thought is a slow and complex process。  We 

do go on; we do get on。  But when one thinks that people are living 

and dying now; quarrelling and sulking; misled and misunderstanding; 

vaguely fearful; condemning and thwarting one another in the close 

darknesses of these narrow cultsOh; God! one wants a gale out of 

Heaven; one wants a great wind from the sea!





3



While I lived at Penge two little things happened to me; trivial in 

themselves and yet in their quality profoundly significant。  They 

had this in common; that they pierced the texture of the life I was 

quietly taking for granted and let me see through it into realities

realities I had indeed known about before but never realised。  Each 

of these experiences left me with a sense of shock; with all the 

values in my life perplexingly altered; attempting readjustment。  

One of these disturbing and illuminating events was that I was 

robbed of a new pocket…knife and the other that I fell in love。  It 

was altogether surprising to me to be robbed。  You see; as an only 

child I had always been fairly well looked after and protected; and 

the result was an amazing confidence in the practical goodness of 

the people one met in the world。  I knew there were robbers in the 

world; just as I knew there were tigers; that I was ever likely to 

meet robber or tiger face to face seemed equally impossible。



The knife as I remember it was a particularly jolly one with all 

sorts of instruments in it; tweezers and a thing for getting a stone 

out of the hoof of a horse; and a corkscrew; it had cost me a 

carefuly accumulated half…crown; and amounted indeed to a new 

experience in knives。  I had had it for two or three days; and then 

one afternoon I dropped it through a hole in my pocket on a footpath 

crossing a field between Penge and Anerley。  I heard it fall in the 

way one does without at the time appreciating what had happened; 

then; later; before I got home; when my hand wandered into my pocket 

to embrace the still dear new possession I found it gone; and 

instantly that memory of something hitting the ground sprang up into 

consciousness。  I went back and commenced a search。  Almost 

immediately I was accosted by the leader of a little gang of four or 

five extremely dirty and ragged boys of assorted sizes and slouching 

carriage who were coming from the Anerley direction。



〃Lost anythink; Matey?〃 said he。



I explained。



〃'E's dropped 'is knife;〃 said my interlocutor; and joined in the 

search。



〃What sort of 'andle was it; Matey?〃 said a small white…faced 

sniffing boy in a big bowler hat。



I supplied the information。  His sharp little face scrutinised the 

ground about us。



〃GOT it;〃 he said; and pounced。



〃Give it 'ere;〃 said the big boy hoarsely; and secured it。



I walked towards him serenely confident that he would hand it over 

to me; and that all was for the best in the best of all possible 

worlds。



〃No bloomin' fear!〃 he said; regarding me obliquely。  〃Oo said it 

was your knife?〃



Remarkable doubts assailed me。  〃Of course it's my knife;〃 I said。  

The other boys gathered round me。



〃This ain't your knife;〃 said the big boy; and spat casually。



〃I dropped it just now。〃



〃Findin's keepin's; I believe;〃 said the big boy。



〃Nonsense;〃 I said。  〃Give me my knife。〃



〃'Ow many blades it got?〃



〃Three。〃



〃And what sort of 'andle?〃



〃Bone。〃



〃Got a corkscrew like?〃



〃Yes。〃



〃Ah!  This ain't your knife no'ow。  See?〃



He made no offer to show it to me。  My breath went。



〃Look here!〃 I said。  〃I saw that kid pick it up。  It IS my knife。〃



〃Rot!〃 said the big boy; and slowly; deliberately put my knife into 

his trouser pocket。



I braced my soul for battle。  All civilisation was behind me; but I 

doubt if it kept the colour in my face。  I buttoned my jacket and 

clenched my fists and advanced on my antagonisthe had; I suppose; 

the advantage of two years of age and three inches of height。  〃Hand 

over that knife;〃 I said。



Then one of the smallest of the band assailed me with extraordinary 

vigour and swiftness from behind; had an arm round my neck and a 

knee in my back before I had the slightest intimation of attack; and 

so got me down。  〃I got 'im; Bill;〃 squeaked this amazing little 

ruffian。  My nose was flattened by a dirty hand; and as I struck out 

and hit something like sacking; some one kicked my elbow。  Two or 

three seemed to be at me at the same time。  Then I rolled over and 

sat up to discover them all making off; a ragged flight; footballing 

my cap; my City Merchants' cap; amongst them。  I leapt to my feet in 

a passion of indignation and pursued them。



But I did not overtake them。  We are beings of mixed composition; 

and I doubt if mine was a single…minded pursuit。  I knew that honour 

required me to pursue; and I had a vivid impression of having just 

been down in the dust with a very wiry and active and dirty little 

antagonist of disagreeable odour and incredible and incalculable 

unscrupulousness; kneeling on me and gripping my arm and neck。  I 

wanted of course to be even with him; but also I doubted if catching 

him would necessarily involve that。  They kicked my cap into the 

ditch at the end of the field; and made off compactly along a cinder 

lane while I turned aside to recover my dishonoured headdress。  As I 

knocked the dust out of that and out of my jacket; and brushed my 

knees and readjusted my very crumpled collar; I tried to focus this 

startling occurrence in my mind。



I had vague ideas of going to a policeman or of complaining at a 

police station; but some boyish instinct against informing prevented 

that。  No doubt I entertained ideas of vindictive pursuit and 

murderous reprisals。  And I was acutely enraged whenever I thought 

of my knife。  The thing indeed rankled in my mind for weeks and 

weeks; and altered all the flavour of my world for me。  It was the 

first time I glimpsed the simple brute violence that lurks and peeps 

beneath our civilisation。  A certain kindly complacency of attitude 

towards the palpably lower classes was qualified for ever





4



But the other experience was still more cardinal。  It was the first 

clear intimation of
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