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the new machiavelli-第52章

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Willersley and I had worked out in the Alps。  They wanted things 

more organised; more correlated with government and a collective 

purpose; just as we did; but they saw it not in terms of a growing 

collective understanding; but in terms of functionaries; legislative 

change; and methods of administration。 。 。 。



It wasn't clear at first how we differed。  The Baileys were very 

anxious to win me to co…operation; and I was quite prepared at first 

to identify their distinctive expressions with phrases of my own; 

and so we came very readily into an alliance that was to last some 

years; and break at last very painfully。  Altiora manifestly liked 

me; I was soon discussing with her the perplexity I found in placing 

myself efficiently in the world; the problem of how to take hold of 

things that occupied my thoughts; and she was sketching out careers 

for my consideration; very much as an architect on his first visit 

sketches houses; considers requirements; and puts before you this 

example and that of the more or less similar thing already done。 。 。 。







4





It is easy to see how much in common there was between the Baileys 

and me; and how natural it was that I should become a constant 

visitor at their house and an ally of theirs in many enterprises。  

It is not nearly so easy to define the profound antagonism of spirit 

that also held between us。  There was a difference in texture; a 

difference in quality。  How can I express it?  The shapes of our 

thoughts were the same; but the substance quite different。  It was 

as if they had made in china or cast iron what I had made in 

transparent living matter。  (The comparison is manifestly from my 

point of view。)  Certain things never seemed to show through their 

ideas that were visible; refracted perhaps and distorted; but 

visible always through mine。



I thought for a time the essential difference lay in our relation to 

beauty。  With me beauty is quite primary in life; I like truth; 

order and goodness; wholly because they are beautiful or lead 

straight to beautiful consequences。  The Baileys either hadn't got 

that or they didn't see it。  They seemed at times to prefer things 

harsh and ugly。  That puzzled me extremely。  The esthetic quality of 

many of their proposals; the 〃manners〃 of their work; so to speak; 

were at times as dreadful aswell; War Office barrack architecture。  

A caricature by its exaggerated statements will sometimes serve to 

point a truth by antagonising falsity and falsity。  I remember 

talking to a prominent museum official in need of more public funds 

for the work he had in hand。  I mentioned the possibility of 

enlisting Bailey's influence。



〃Oh; we don't want Philistines like that infernal Bottle…Imp running 

us;〃 he said hastily; and would hear of no concerted action for the 

end he had in view。  〃I'd rather not have the extension。



〃You see;〃 he went on to explain; 〃Bailey's wanting in the 

essentials。〃



〃What essentials?〃 said I。



〃Oh! he'd be like a nasty oily efficient little machine for some 

merely subordinate necessity among all my delicate stuff。  He'd do 

all we wanted no doubt in the way of money and powersand he'd do 

it wrong and mess the place for ever。  Hands all black; you know。  

He's just a means。  Just a very aggressive and unmanageable means。  

This isn't a plumber's job。 。 。 。〃



I stuck to my argument。



〃I don't LIKE him;〃 said the official conclusively; and it seemed to 

me at the time he was just blind prejudice speaking。 。 。 。



I came nearer the truth of the matter as I came to realise that our 

philosophies differed profoundly。  That isn't a very curable 

difference;once people have grown up。  Theirs was a philosophy 

devoid of FINESSE。  Temperamentally the Baileys were specialised; 

concentrated; accurate; while I am urged either by some Inner force 

or some entirely assimilated influence in my training; always to 

round off and shadow my outlines。  I hate them hard。  I would 

sacrifice detail to modelling always; and the Baileys; it seemed to 

me; loved a world as flat and metallic as Sidney Cooper's cows。  If 

they had the universe in hand I know they would take down all the 

trees and put up stamped tin green shades and sunlight accumulators。  

Altiora thought trees hopelessly irregular and sea cliffs a great 

mistake。 。 。 。   I got things clearer as time went on。  Though it 

was an Hegelian mess of which I had partaken at Codger's table by 

way of a philosophical training; my sympathies have always been 

Pragmatist。  I belong almost by nature to that school of Pragmatism 

that; following the medieval Nominalists; bases itself upon a denial 

of the reality of classes; and of the validity of general laws。  The 

Baileys classified everything。  They were; in the scholastic sense

which so oddly contradicts the modern use of the word—〃Realists。〃  

They believed classes were REAL and independent of their 

individuals。  This is the common habit of all so…called educated 

people who have no metaphysical aptitude and no metaphysical 

training。  It leads them to a progressive misunderstanding of the 

world。  It was a favourite trick of Altiora's to speak of everybody 

as a 〃type〃; she saw men as samples moving; her dining…room became a 

chamber of representatives。  It gave a tremendously scientific air 

to many of their generalisations; using 〃scientific〃 in its 

nineteenth…century uncritical Herbert Spencer sense; an air that 

only began to disappear when you thought them over again in terms of 

actuality and the people one knew。 。 。 。



At the Baileys' one always seemed to be getting one's hands on the 

very strings that guided the world。  You heard legislation projected 

to affect this 〃type〃 and that; statistics marched by you with sin 

and shame and injustice and misery reduced to quite manageable 

percentages; you found men who were to frame or amend bills in grave 

and intimate exchange with Bailey's omniscience; you heard Altiora 

canvassing approaching resignations and possible appointments that 

might make or mar a revolution in administrative methods; and doing 

it with a vigorous directness that manifestly swayed the decision; 

and you felt you were in a sort of signal box with levers all about 

you; and the world outside there; albeit a little dark and 

mysterious beyond the window; running on its lines in ready 

obedience to these unhesitating lights; true and steady to trim 

termini。



And then with all this administrative fizzle; this pseudo…scientific 

administrative chatter; dying away in your head; out you went into 

the limitless grimy chaos of London streets and squares; roads and 

avenues lined with teeming houses; each larger than the Chambers 

Street house and at least equally alive; you saw the chaotic clamour 

of hoardings; the jumble of traffic; the coming and going of 

mysterious myriads; you heard the rumble of traffic like the noise 
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