the new machiavelli-第11章

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to　eye　meaningly；　even　to　accost　and　make　friends。　　It　is　a　queer　

instinctive　revolt　from　the　narrow　limited　friendless　homes　in　which　

so　many　find　themselves；　a　going　out　towards　something；　romance　if　

you　will；　beauty；　that　has　suddenly　become　a　needa　need　that　

hitherto　has　lain　dormant　and　unsuspected。　　They　promenade。



Vulgar！it　is　as　vulgar　as　the　spirit　that　calls　the　moth　abroad　in　

the　evening　and　lights　the　body　of　the　glow…worm　in　the　night。　　I　

made　my　way　through　the　throng；　a　little　contemptuously　as　became　a　

public　schoolboy；　my　hands　in　my　pocketsnone　of　your　cheap　canes　

for　me！and　very　careful　of　the　lie　of　my　cigarette　upon　my　lips。　　

And　two　girls　passed　me；　one　a　little　taller　than　the　other；　with　

dim　warm…tinted　faces　under　clouds　of　dark　hair　and　with　dark　eyes　

like　pools　reflecting　stars。



I　half　turned；　and　the　shorter　one　glanced　back　at　me　over　her　

shoulderI　could　draw　you　now　the　pose　of　her　cheek　and　neck　and　

shoulderand　instantly　I　was　as　passionately　in　love　with　the　girl　

as　I　have　ever　been　before　or　since；　as　any　man　ever　was　with　any　

woman。　　I　turned　about　and　followed　them；　I　flung　away　my　cigarette　

ostentatiously　and　lifted　my　school　cap　and　spoke　to　them。



The　girl　answered　shyly　with　her　dark　eyes　on　my　face。　　What　I　said　

and　what　she　said　I　cannot　remember；　but　I　have　little　doubt　it　was　

something　absolutely　vapid。　　It　really　did　not　matter；　the　thing　was　

we　had　met。　　I　felt　as　I　think　a　new…hatched　moth　must　feel　when　

suddenly　its　urgent　headlong　searching　brings　it　in　tremulous　

amazement　upon　its　mate。



We　met；　covered　from　each　other；　with　all　the　nets　of　civilisation　

keeping　us　apart。　　We　walked　side　by　side。



It　led　to　scarcely　more　than　that。　　I　think　we　met　four　or　five　

times　altogether；　and　always　with　her　nearly　silent　elder　sister　on　

the　other　side　of　her。　　We　walked　on　the　last　two　occasions　arm　in　

arm；　furtively　caressing　each　other's　hands；　we　went　away　from　the　

glare　of　the　shops　into　the　quiet　roads　of　villadom；　and　there　we　

whispered　instead　of　talking　and　looked　closely　into　one　another's　

warm　and　shaded　face。　　〃Dear；〃　I　whispered　very　daringly；　and　she　

answered；　〃Dear！〃　　We　had　a　vague　sense　that　we　wanted　more　of　that　

quality　of　intimacy　and　more。　　We　wanted　each　other　as　one　wants　

beautiful　music　again　or　to　breathe　again　the　scent　of　flowers。



And　that　is　all　there　was　between　us。　　The　events　are　nothing；　the　

thing　that　matters　is　the　way　in　which　this　experience　stabbed　

through　the　common　stuff　of　life　and　left　it　pierced；　with　a　light；　

with　a　huge　new　interest　shining　through　the　rent。



When　I　think　of　it　I　can　recall　even　now　the　warm　mystery　of　her　

face；　her　lips　a　little　apart；　lips　that　I　never　kissed；　her　soft　

shadowed　throat；　and　I　feel　again　the　sensuous　stir　of　her　

proximity。　。　。　。



Those　two　girls　never　told　me　their　surname　nor　let　me　approach　

their　house。　　They　made　me　leave　them　at　the　corner　of　a　road　of　

small　houses　near　Penge　Station。　　And　quite　abruptly；　without　any　

intimation；　they　vanished　and　came　to　the　meeting　place　no　more；　

they　vanished　as　a　moth　goes　out　of　a　window　into　the　night；　and　

left　me　possessed　of　an　intolerable　want。　。　。　。



The　affair　pervaded　my　existence　for　many　weeks。　　I　could　not　do　my　

work　and　I　could　not　rest　at　home。　　Night　after　night　I　promenaded　

up　and　down　that　Monkeys'　Parade　full　of　an　unappeasable　desire；　

with　a　thwarted　sense　of　something　just　begun　that　ought　to　have　

gone　on。　　I　went　backwards　and　forwards　on　the　way　to　the　vanishing　

place；　and　at　last　explored　the　forbidden　road　that　had　swallowed　

them　up。　　But　I　never　saw　her　again；　except　that　later　she　came　to　

me；　my　symbol　of　womanhood；　in　dreams。　　How　my　blood　was　stirred！　　I　

lay　awake　of　nights　whispering　in　the　darkness　for　her。　　I　prayed　

for　her。



Indeed　that　girl；　who　probably　forgot　the　last　vestiges　of　me　when　

her　first　real　kiss　came　to　her；　ruled　and　haunted　me；　gave　a　Queen　

to　my　imagination　and　a　texture　to　all　my　desires　until　I　became　a　

man。



I　generalised　her　at　last。　　I　suddenly　discovered　that　poetry　was　

about　her　and　that　she　was　the　key　to　all　that　had　hitherto　seemed　

nonsense　about　love。　　I　took　to　reading　novels；　and　if　the　heroine　

could　not　possibly　be　like　her；　dusky　and　warm　and　starlike；　I　put　

the　book　aside。　。　。　。



I　hesitate　and　add　here　one　other　confession。　　I　want　to　tell　this　

thing　because　it　seems　to　me　we　are　altogether　too　restrained　and　

secretive　about　such　matters。　　The　cardinal　thing　in　life　sneaks　in　

to　us　darkly　and　shamefully　like　a　thief　in　the　night。



One　day　during　my　Cambridge　daysit　must　have　been　in　my　first　year　

before　I　knew　HatherleighI　saw　in　a　print…shop　window　near　the　

Strand　an　engraving　of　a　girl　that　reminded　me　sharply　of　Penge　and　

its　dusky　encounter。　　It　was　just　a　half　length　of　a　bare…

shouldered；　bare…breasted　Oriental　with　arms　akimbo；　smiling　

faintly。　　I　looked　at　it；　went　my　way；　then　turned　back　and　bought　

it。　　I　felt　I　must　have　it。　　The　odd　thing　is　that　I　was　more　than　a　

little　shamefaced　about　it。　　I　did　not　have　it　framed　and　hung　in　my　

room　open　to　the　criticism　of　my　friends；　but　I　kept　it　in　the　

drawer　of　my　writing…table。　　And　I　kept　that　drawer　locked　for　a　

year。　　It　speedily　merged　with　and　became　identified　with　the　dark　

girl　of　Penge。　　That　engraving　became　in　a　way　my　mistress。　　Often　

when　I　had　sported　my　oak　and　was　supposed　to　be　reading；　I　was　

sitting　with　it　before　me。



Obeying　some　instinct　I　kept　the　thing　very　secret　indeed。　　For　a　

time　nobody　suspected　what　was　locked　in　my　drawer　nor　what　was　

locked　in　me。　　I　seemed　as　sexless　as　my　world　required。





5



These　things　stabbed　through　my　life；　intimations　of　things　above　

and　below　and　before　me。　　They　had　an　air　of　being　no　more　than　

incidents；　interruptions。



The　broad　substance　of　my　existence　at　this　time　was　the　City　

Merchants　School。　　Home　was　a　place　where　I　slept　and　read；　and　the　

mooning　explorations　of　the　south…eastern　postal　district　which　

occupied　the　restless　evenings　and　spare　days　of　my　vacations　mere　

interstices；　giving　glimpses　of　enigmatical　lights　and　distant　

spaces　between　the　woven　threads　of　a　school…boy's　career。　　School　

life　began　for　me　every　morning　at　Herne　Hill；　for　there　I　was　

joined　by　three　or　four　other　boys　and　the　rest　of　the　way　we　went　

together。　　Most　of　the　streets　and　roads　we　traversed　in　our　

morning's　walk　from　Victoria　are　still　intact；　the　storms　of　

rebuilding　that　have　submerged　so　much　of　my　boyhood's　London　have　

passed　and　left　them；　and　I　have　revived　the　impression　of　them　

again　and　again　in　recent　years　as　I　have　clattered　dinnerward　in　a　

hansom　or　hummed　along　in　a　motor　cab　to　some　engagement。　　The　main　

gate　still　looks　out　with　the　same　expression　of　ancient　well…

proportioned　kindliness　upon　St。　Margaret's　Close。　　There　are　

imposing　new　science　laboratories　in　Chambers　Street　indeed；　but　the　

old　playing　fields　are　unaltered　except　for　the　big　electric　trams　

that　go　droning　and　spitting　blue　flashes　along　the　western　

boundary。　　I　know　Ratten；　the　new　Head；　very　well；　but　I　have　not　

been　inside　the　school　to　see　if　it　has　changed　at　all　since　I　went　

up　to　Cambridge。



I　took　all　they　put　before　us　very　readily　as　a　boy；　for　I　had　a　

mind　of　vigorous　appetite；　but　since　I　have　grown　mentally　to　man's　

estate　and　developed　a　more　and　more　comprehensive　view　of　our　

national　process　and　our　national　needs；　I　am　more　and　more　struck　

by　the　oddity　of　the　educational　methods　pursued；　their　aimless　

disconnectedness　from　the　constructive　forces　in　the　community。　　I　

suppose　if　we　are　to　view　the　public　school　as　anything　more　than　an　

institution　that　has　just　chanced　to　happen；　we　must　treat　it　as　

having　a　definite　function　towards　the　general　scheme　of　the　nation；　

as　being　in　a　sense　designed　to　take　the　crude　young　male　of　the　

more　or　less　responsible　class；　to　correct　his　harsh　egotisms；　

broaden　his　outlook；　give　him　a　grasp　of　the　contemporary　

developments　he　will　presently　be　called　upon　to　influence　and　

control；　and　send　him　on　to　the　university　to　be　made　a　leading　and　

ruling　social　man。　　It　is　easy　enough　to　carp　at　schoolmasters　and　

set　up　for　an　Educational　Reformer；　I　know；　but　still　it　is　

impossible　not　to　feel　how　infinitely　more　effectuallygiven　

certain　impossibilities　perhapsthe　job　might　be　done。



My　memory　of　school　has　indeed　no　hint　whatever　of　that　quality　of　

elucidation　it　seems　reasonable　to　demand　from　it。　　Here　all　about　

me　was　London；　a　vast　inexplicable　being；　a　vortex　of　gigantic　

forces；　that　filled　and　overwhelmed　me　with　impressions；　that　

stirred　my　imagination　to　a　perpetual　vague　enquiry；　and　my　school　

not　only　offered　no　key　to　it；　but　had　practically　no　comment　to　

make　upon　it　at　all。　　We　were　within　three　miles　of　Westminster　and　

Charing　Cross；　the　government　offices　of　a　fifth　of　mankind　were　all　

within　an　hour's　stroll；　great　economic　changes　were　going　on　under　

our　eyes；　now　the　hoardings　flamed　with　election　placards；　now　the　

Salvation　Army　and　now　the　unemployed　came　trailing　in　procession　

through　the　winter…grey　streets；　now　the　newspaper　placards　outside　

news…shops　told　of　battles　in　strange　places；　now　of　amazing　

discoveries；　now　of　sinister　crimes；　abject　squalor　and　poverty；　

imperial　splendour　and　luxury；　Buckingham　Palace；　Rotten　Row；　

Mayfair；　the　slums　of　Pimlico；　garbage…littered　streets　of　bawling　

costermongers；　the　inky　silver　of　the　barge…laden　Thamessuch　was　

the　background　of　our　days。　　We　went　across　St。　Margaret's　Close　and　

through　the　school　gate　into　a　quiet　puerile　world　apart　from　all　

these　things。　　We　joined　in　the　earnest　acquirement　of　all　that　was　

necessary　for　Greek　epigrams　and　Latin　verse；　and　for　the　rest　

played　games。　　We　dipped　down　into　something　clear　and　elegantly　

proportioned　and　time…worn　and　for　all　its　high　resolve　of　stalwart　

virility　a　little　feeble；　like　our　blackened　and　decayed　portals　by　

Inigo　Jones。



Within；　we　were　taught　as　the　chief　subjects　of　instruction；　Latin　

and　Greek。　　We　were　taught　very　badly　because　the　men　who　taught　us　

did　not　habitually　use　either　of　these　languages；　nobody　uses　them　

any　more　now　except　perhaps　for　the　Latin　of　a　few　Levantine　

monasteries。　　At　the　utmost　our　men　read　them。　　We　were　taught　these　

languages　because　long　ago　Latin　had　been　the　language　of　

civilisation；　the　one　way　of　escape　from　the　narrow　and　localised　

life　had　lain　in　those　days　through　Latin；　and　afterwards　Greek　had　

come　in　as　the　vehicle　of　a　flood　of　new　and　amazing　ideas。　　Once　

these　two　languages　had　been　the　sole　means　of　initiation　to　the　

detached　criticism　and　partial　comprehension　of　the　world。　　I　can　

imagine　the　fierc