the research magnificent-第35章

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They　recuperated　at　the　best　hotel　of　Locarno　in　golden　November　weather；　and　just　before　Christmas　they　turned　their　faces　back　to　England。　Benham's　plans　were　comprehensive　but　entirely　vague；　Amanda　had　not　so　much　plans　as　intentions。　。　。　。

CHAPTER　THE　FIFTH　THE　ASSIZE　OF　JEALOUSY

1

It　was　very　manifest　in　the　disorder　of　papers　amidst　which　White　spent　so　many　evenings　of　interested　perplexity　before　this　novel　began　to　be　written　that　Benham　had　never　made　any　systematic　attempt　at　editing　or　revising　his　accumulation　at　all。　　There　were　not　only　overlapping　documents；　in　which　he　had　returned　again　to　old　ideas　and　restated　them　in　the　light　of　fresh　facts　and　an　apparent　unconsciousness　of　his　earlier　effort；　but　there　were　mutually　destructive　papers；　new　views　quite　ousting　the　old　had　been　tossed　in　upon　the　old；　and　the　very　definition　of　the　second　limitation；　as　it　had　first　presented　itself　to　the　writer；　had　been　abandoned。　　To　begin　with；　this　second　division　had　been　labelled　〃Sex；〃　in　places　the　heading　remained；　no　effective　substitute　had　been　chosen　for　some　time；　but　there　was　d　many　appetites　that　are　not　sexual　yet　turn　to　bodily　pleasure；　and　on　the　other　there　are　elements　of　pride　arising　out　of　sex　and　passing　into　other　regions；　all　the　elements　of　rivalry　for　example；　that　have　strained　my　first　definition　to　the　utmost。　　And　I　conceive　it；　marches　to　its　end。　　It　saves　itself　for　the　truth　rather　than　sacrifices　itself　romantically　for　a　friend。　　It　justifies　vivisection　if　thereby　knowledge　is　won　for　ever。　　It　upholds　that　Brutus　who　killed　his　sons。　　It　forbids　devotion　to　women；　courts　of　love　and　all　such　decay　of　the　chivala　closely…written　memorandum；　very　much　erased　and　written　over　and　amended；　which　showed　Benham's　early　dissatisfaction　with　that　crude　rendering　of　what　he　had　in　mind。　　This　memorandum　was　tacked　to　an　interrupted　fragment　of　autobiography；　a　manuscript　soliloquy　in　which　Benham　had　been　discussing　his　married　life。　〃It　was　not　until　I　had　been　married　for　the　better　part　of　a　year；　and　had　spent　more　than　six　months　in　London；　that　I　faced　the　plain　issue　between　the　aims　I　had　set　before　myself　and　the　claims　and　immediate　necessities　of　my　personal　life。　　For　all　that　time　I　struggled　not　so　much　to　reconcile　them　as　to　serve　them　simultaneously。　。　。　。〃　At　that　the　autobiography　stopped　short；　and　the　intercalary　note　began。　This　intercalary　note　ran　as　follows：　〃I　suppose　a　mind　of　my　sort　cannot　help　but　tend　towards　simplification；　towards　making　all　life　turn　upon　some　one　dominant　idea；　complex　perhaps　in　its　reality　but　reducible　at　last　to　one　consistent　simple　statement；　a　dominant　idea　which　is　essential　as　nothing　else　is　essential；　which　makes　and　sustains　and　justifies。　This　is　perhaps　the　innate　disposition　of　the　human　mind；　at　least　of　the　European　mindfor　I　have　some　doubts　about　the　Chinese。　Theology　drives　obstinately　towards　an　ultimate　unity　in　God；　science　towards　an　ultimate　unity　in　law；　towards　a　fundamental　element　and　a　universal　material　truth　from　which　all　material　truths　evolve；　and　in　matters　of　conduct　there　is　the　same　tendency　to　refer　to　a　universal　moral　law。　　Now　this　may　be　a　simplification　due　to　the　need　of　the　human　mind　to　comprehend；　and　its　inability　to　do　so　until　the　load　is　lightened　by　neglecting　factors。　　William　James　has　suggested　that　on　account　of　this；　theology　may　be　obstinately　working　away　from　the　truth；　that　the　truth　may　be　that　there　are　several　or　many　in　compatible　and　incommensurable　gods；　science；　in　the　same　search　for　unity；　may　follow　divergent　methods　of　inquiry　into　ultimately　uninterchangeable　generalizations；　and　there　may　be　not　only　not　one　universal　moral　law；　but　no　effective　reconciliation　of　the　various　rights　and　duties　of　a　single　individual。　　At　any　rate　I　find　myself　doubtful　to　this　day　about　my　own　personal　systems　of　right　and　wrong。　　I　can　never　get　all　my　life　into　one　focus。　　It　is　exactly　like　examining　a　rather　thick　section　with　a　microscope　of　small　penetratrion；　sometimes　one　level　is　clear　and　the　rest　foggy　and　monstrous；　and　sometimes　another。　〃Now　the　ruling　ME；　I　do　not　doubt；　is　the　man　who　has　set　his　face　to　this　research　after　aristocracy；　and　from　the　standpoint　of　this　research　it　is　my　duty　to　subordinate　all　other　considerations　to　this　work　of　clearing　up　the　conception　of　rule　and　nobility　in　human　affairs。　　This　is　my　aristocratic　self。　　What　I　did　not　grasp　for　a　long　time；　and　which　now　grows　clearer　and　clearer　to　me；　is　firstly　that　this　aristocratic　self　is　not　the　whole　of　me；　it　has　absolutely　nothing　to　do　with　a　pain　in　my　ear　or　in　my　heart；　with　a　scar　on　my　hand　or　my　memory；　and　secondly　that　it　is　not　altogether　mine。　　Whatever　knowledge　I　have　of　the　quality　of　science；　whatever　will　I　have　towards　right；　is　of　it；　but　if　from　without；　from　the　reasoning　or　demonstration　or　reproof　of　some　one　else；　there　comes　to　me　clear　knowledge；　clarified　will；　that　also　is　as　it　were　a　part　of　my　aristocratic　self　coming　home　to　me　from　the　outside。　　How　often　have　I　not　found　my　own　mind　in　Prothero　after　I　have　failed　to　find　it　in　myself？　　It　is；　to　be　paradoxical；　my　impersonal　personality；　this　Being　that　I　have　in　common　with　all　scientific…spirited　and　aristocratic…spirited　men。　　This　it　is　that　I　am　trying　to　get　clear　from　the　great　limitations　of　humanity。　When　I　assert　a　truth　for　the　sake　of　truth　to　my　own　discomfort　or　injury；　there　again　is　this　incompatibility　of　the　aristocratic　self　and　the　accepted；　confused；　conglomerate　self　of　the　unanalyzed　man。　The　two　have　a　separate　system　of　obligations。　　One's　affections；　compounded　as　they　are　in　the　strangest　way　of　physical　reactions　and　emotional　associations；　one's　implicit　pledges　to　particular　people；　one's　involuntary　reactions；　one's　pride　and　jealousy；　all　that　one　might　call　the　dramatic　side　of　one's　life；　may　be　in　conflict　with　the　definitely　seen　rightnesses　of　one's　higher　use。　。　。　。〃　The　writing　changed　at　this　point。　〃All　this　seems　to　me　at　once　as　old　as　the　hills　and　too　new　to　be　true。　　This　is　like　the　conflict　of　the　Superior　Man　of　Confucius　to　control　himself；　it　is　like　the　Christian　battle　of　the　spirit　with　the　flesh；　it　savours　of　that　eternal　wrangle　between　the　general　and　the　particular　which　is　metaphysics；　it　was　for　this　aristocratic　self；　for　righteousness'　sake；　that　men　have　hungered　and　thirsted；　and　on　this　point　men　have　left　father　and　mother　and　child　and　wife　and　followed　after　salvation。　　This　world…wide；　ever…　returning　antagonism　has　filled　the　world　in　every　age　with　hermits　and　lamas；　recluses　and　teachers；　devoted　and　segregated　lives。　　It　is　a　perpetual　effort　to　get　above　the　simplicity　of　barbarism。　Whenever　men　have　emerged　from　the　primitive　barbarism　of　the　farm　and　the　tribe；　then　straightway　there　has　emerged　this　conception　of　a　specialized　life　a　little　lifted　off　the　earth；　often；　for　the　sake　of　freedom；　celibate；　usually　disciplined；　sometimes　directed；　having　a　generalized　aim；　beyond　personal　successes　and　bodily　desires。　　So　it　is　that　the　philosopher；　the　scientifically　concentrated　man；　has　appeared；　often；　I　admit；　quite　ridiculously　at　first；　setting　out　upon　the　long　journey　that　will　end　only　when　the　philosopher　is　king。　。　。　。　〃At　first　I　called　my　Second　Limitation；　Sex。　　But　from　the　outset　I　meant　more　than　mere　sexual　desire；　lust　and　lustful　imaginings；　more　than　personal　reactions　to　beauty　and　spirited　living；　more　even　than　what　is　called　love。　　On　the　one　hand　I　had　in　minsee　now　that　this　Second　Limitation　as　I　first　imagined　it　spreads　out　without　any　definite　boundary；　to　include　one's　rivalries　with　old　schoolfellows；　for　example；　one's　generosities　to　beggars　and　dependents；　one's　desire　to　avenge　an　injured　friend；　one's　point　of　honour；　one's　regard　for　the　good　opinion　of　an　aunt　and　one's　concern　for　the　health　of　a　pet　cat。　　All　these　things　may　enrich；　but　they　may　also　impede　and　limit　the　aristocratic　scheme。　　I　thought　for　a　time　I　would　call　this　ill…defined　and　miscellaneous　wilderness　of　limitation　the　Personal　Life。　　But　at　last　I　have　decided　to　divide　this　vast　territory　of　difficulties　into　two　subdivisions　and　make　one　of　these　Indulgence；　meaning　thereby　pleasurable　indulgence　of　sense　or　feeling；　and　the　other　a　great　mass　of　self…regarding　motives　that　will　go　with　a　little　stretching　under　the　heading　of　Jealousy。　　I　admit　motives　are　continually　playing　across　the　boundary　of　these　two　divisions；　I　should　find　it　difficult　to　argue　a　case　for　my　classification；　but　in　practice　these　two　groupings　have　a　quite　definite　meaning　for　me。　　There　is　pride　in　the　latter　group　of　impulses　and　not　in　the　former；　the　former　are　always　a　little　apologetic。　　Fear；　Indulgence；　Jealousy；　these　are　the　First　Three　Limitations　of　the　soul　of　man。　　And　the　greatest　of　these　is　Jealousy；　because　it　can　use　pride。　　Over　them　the　Life　Aristocratic；　as　I　ous　idea。　　And　it　resignsso　many　things　that　no　common　Man　of　Spirit　will　resign。　　Its　intention　transcends　these　things。　　Over　all　the　world　it　would　maintain　justice；　order；　a　noble　peace；　and　it　would　do　this　without　indignation；　without　resentment；　without　mawkish　tenderness　or　individualized　enthusiasm　or　any　queen　of　beauty。　　It　is　of　a　cold　austere　quality；　commanding　sometimes　admiration　but　having　small　hold　upon　the　affections　of　men。　　So　that　it　is　among　its　foremost　distinctions　that　its　heart　is　steeled。　。　。　。〃　There　this　odd　fragment　ended　and　White　was　left　to　resume　the　interrupted　autobiography。

2

What　moods；　what　passions；　what　nights　of　despair　and　gathering　storms　of　anger；　what　sudden　cruelties　and　amazing　tendernesses　are　buried　and　hidden　and　implied　in　every　love　story！　　What　a　waste　is　there　of　exquisite　things！　　So　each　spring　sees　a　million　glorious　beginnings；　a　sunlit　heaven　in　every　opening　leaf；　warm　perfection　in　every　stirring　egg；　hope　and　fear　and　beauty　beyond　computation　in　every　forest　tree；　and　in　the　autumn　before　the　snows　come　they　have　all　gone；　of　all　that　incalculable　abundance　of　life；　of　all　that　hope　and　adventure；　excitement　and　deliciousness；　there　is　scarcely　more　to　be　found　than　a　soiled　twig；　a　dirty　seed；　a　dead　leaf；　black　mould　or　a　rotting　feather。　。　。　。　White　held　the　ten　or　twelve　pencilled　pages　that　told　how　Benham　and　Amanda　drifted　into　antagonism　and　estrangement　and　as　he　held　it　he　thought　of　the　laughter　and　delight　they　must　have　had　together；　the　exquisite　excitements　of　her　eye；　the　racing　colour　of　her　cheek；　the　gleams　of　light　upon　her　skin；　the　flashes　of　wit　between　them；　the　sense　of　discovery；　the　high　rare　paths　they　had　followed；　the　pools　in　which　they　had　swum　together。　　And　now　it　was　all　gone　into　nothingness；　there　was　nothing　left　of　it；　nothing　at　all；　but　just　those　sheets　of　statement；　and　it　may　be；　stored　away　in　one　single　mind；　like　things　forgotten　in　an　attic；　a　few　neglected　faded　memories。　。　。　。　And　even　those　few　sheets　of　statement　were　more　than　most　love　leaves　behind　it。　　For　a　time　White　would　not　read　them。　　They　lay　neglected　on　his　knee　as　he　sat　back　in　Benham's　most　comfortable　chair　and　enjoyed　an　entirely　beautiful　melancholy。　White　too　had　seen　and　mou