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the new machiavelli-第74章

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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 

have to simplify。  I have given now the broad lines of my political 

development; and how I passed from my initial liberal…socialism to 

the conception of a constructive aristocracy。  I have tried to set 

that out in the form of a man discovering himself。  Incidentally 

that self…development led to a profound breach with my wife。  One 

has read stories before of husband and wife speaking severally two 

different languages and coming to an understanding。  But Margaret 

and I began in her dialect; and; as I came more and more to use my 

own; diverged。



I had thought when I married that the matter of womankind had ended 

for me。  I have tried to tell all that sex and women had been to me 

up to my married life with Margaret and our fatal entanglement; 

tried to show the queer; crippled; embarrassed and limited way in 

which these interests break upon the life of a young man under 

contemporary conditions。  I do not think my lot was a very 

exceptional one。  I missed the chance of sisters and girl playmates; 

but that is not an uncommon misadventure in an age of small 

families; I never came to know any woman at all intimately until I 

was married to Margaret。  My earlier love affairs were encounters of 

sex; under conditions of furtiveness and adventure that made them 

things in themselves; restricted and unilluminating。  From a boyish 

disposition to be mystical and worshipping towards women I had 

passed into a disregardful attitude; as though women were things 

inferior or irrelevant; disturbers in great affairs。  For a time 

Margaret had blotted out all other women; she was so different and 

so near; she was like a person who stands suddenly in front of a 

little window through which one has been surveying a crowd。  She 

didn't become womankind for me so much as eliminate womankind from 

my world。 。 。 。  And then came this secret separation。 。 。 。



Until this estrangement and the rapid and uncontrollable development 

of my rela
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