a miscellany of men-第13部分

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or　the　printers　upstairs。　　So　the　inverted　commas　were　lifted　entirely　off　one　word　on　to　the　other　and　a　totally　innocent　title　suddenly　turned　into　a　blasting　sneer。　　But　that　would　have　mattered　nothing　so　far；　for　there　was　nothing　to　sneer　at。　　In　the　same　dark　hour；　however；　there　was　a　printer　who　was　（I　suppose）　so　devoted　to　this　Government　that　he　could　think　of　no　Gray　but　Sir　Edward　Grey。　　He　spelt　it　〃Grey〃　by　a　mere　misprint；　and　the　whole　tale　was　complete：　first　blunder；　second　blunder；　and　final　condemnation。

That　is　a　little　tale　of　journalism　as　it　is；　if　you　call　it　egotistic　and　ask　what　is　the　use　of　it　I　think　I　could　tell　you。　　You　might　remember　it　when　next　some　ordinary　young　workman　is　going　to　be　hanged　by　the　neck　on　circumstantial　evidence。



THE　SENTIMENTAL　SCOT


Of　all　the　great　nations　of　Christendom；　the　Scotch　are　by　far　the　most　romantic。　　I　have　just　enough　Scotch　experience　and　just　enough　Scotch　blood　to　know　this　in　the　only　way　in　which　a　thing　can　really　be　known；　that　is；　when　the　outer　world　and　the　inner　world　are　at　one。　　I　know　it　is　always　said　that　the　Scotch　are　practical；　prosaic；　and　puritan；　that　they　have　an　eye　to　business。　　I　like　that　phrase　〃an　eye〃　to　business。

Polyphemus　had　an　eye　for　business；　it　was　in　the　middle　of　his　forehead。　It　served　him　admirably　for　the　only　two　duties　which　are　demanded　in　a　modern　financier　and　captain　of　industry：　the　two　duties　of　counting　sheep　and　of　eating　men。　　But　when　that　one　eye　was　put　out　he　was　done　for。　　But　the　Scotch　are　not　one…eyed　practical　men；　though　their　best　friends　must　admit　that　they　are　occasionally　business…like。　　They　are；　quite　fundamentally；　romantic　and　sentimental；　and　this　is　proved　by　the　very　economic　argument　that　is　used　to　prove　their　harshness　and　hunger　for　the　material。　The　mass　of　Scots　have　accepted　the　industrial　civilisation；　with　its　factory　chimneys　and　its　famine　prices；　with　its　steam　and　smoke　and　steeland　strikes。　　The　mass　of　the　Irish　have　not　accepted　it。　The　mass　of　the　Irish　have　clung　to　agriculture　with　claws　of　iron；　and　have　succeeded　in　keeping　it。　　That　is　because　the　Irish；　though　far　inferior　to　the　Scotch　in　art　and　literature；　are　hugely　superior　to　them　in　practical　politics。　　You　do　need　to　be　very　romantic　to　accept　the　industrial　civilisation。　　It　does　really　require　all　the　old　Gaelic　glamour　to　make　men　think　that　Glasgow　is　a　grand　place。　　Yet　the　miracle　is　achieved；　and　while　I　was　in　Glasgow　I　shared　the　illusion。　I　have　never　had　the　faintest　illusion　about　Leeds　or　Birmingham。　　The　industrial　dream　suited　the　Scots。　Here　was　a　really　romantic　vista；　suited　to　a　romantic　people；　a　vision　of　higher　and　higher　chimneys　taking　hold　upon　the　heavens；　of　fiercer　and　fiercer　fires　in　which　adamant　could　evaporate　like　dew。　　Here　were　taller　and　taller　engines　that　began　already　to　shriek　and　gesticulate　like　giants。　　Here　were　thunderbolts　of　communication　which　already　flashed　to　and　fro　like　thoughts。　　It　was　unreasonable　to　expect　the　rapt；　dreamy；　romantic　Scot　to　stand　still　in　such　a　whirl　of　wizardry　to　ask　whether　he；　the　ordinary　Scot；　would　be　any　the　richer。

He；　the　ordinary　Scot；　is　very　much　the　poorer。　　Glasgow　is　not　a　rich　city。　　It　is　a　particularly　poor　city　ruled　by　a　few　particularly　rich　men。　　It　is　not；　perhaps；　quite　so　poor　a　city　as　Liverpool；　London；　Manchester；　Birmingham；　or　Bolton。　　It　is　vastly　poorer　than　Rome；　Rouen；　Munich；　or　Cologne。　　A　certain　civic　vitality　notable　in　Glasgow　may；　perhaps；　be　due　to　the　fact　that　the　high　poetic　patriotism　of　the　Scots　has　there　been　reinforced　by　the　cutting　common　sense　and　independence　of　the　Irish。　　In　any　case；　I　think　there　can　be　no　doubt　of　the　main　historical　fact。　　The　Scotch　were　tempted　by　the　enormous　but　unequal　opportunities　of　industrialism；　because　the　Scotch　are　romantic。　　The　Irish　refused　those　enormous　and　unequal　opportunities；　because　the　Irish　are　clear…sighted。　　They　would　not　need　very　clear　sight　by　this　time　to　see　that　in　England　and　Scotland　the　temptation　has　been　a　betrayal。　　The　industrial　system　has　failed。

I　was　coming　the　other　day　along　a　great　valley　road　that　strikes　out　of　the　westland　counties　about　Glasgow；　more　or　less　towards　the　east　and　the　widening　of　the　Forth。　　It　may；　for　all　I　know　（I　amused　myself　with　the　fancy）；　be　the　way　along　which　Wallace　came　with　his　crude　army；　when　he　gave　battle　before　Stirling　Brig；　and；　in　the　midst　of　mediaeval　diplomacies；　made　a　new　nation　possible。　　Anyhow；　the　romantic　quality　of　Scotland　rolled　all　about　me；　as　much　in　the　last　reek　of　Glasgow　as　in　the　first　rain　upon　the　hills。　　The　tall　factory　chimneys　seemed　trying　to　be　taller　than　the　mountain　peaks；　as　if　this　landscape　were　full　（as　its　history　has　been　full）　of　the　very　madness　of　ambition。　　The　wage…　slavery　we　live　in　is　a　wicked　thing。　　But　there　is　nothing…in　which　the　Scotch　are　more　piercing　and　poetical；　I　might　say　more　perfect；　than　in　their　Scotch　wickedness。　　It　is　what　makes　the　Master　of　Ballantrae　the　most　thrilling　of　all　fictitious　villains。　　It　is　what　makes　the　Master　of　Lovat　the　most　thrilling　of　all　historical　villains。　　It　is　poetry。　It　is　an　intensity　which　is　on　the　edge　of　madness　or　（what　is　worse）　magic。　　Well；　the　Scotch　have　managed　to　apply　something　of　this　fierce　romanticism　even　to　the　lowest　of　all　lordships　and　serfdoms；　the　proletarian　inequality　of　today。　　You　do　meet　now　and　then；　in　Scotland；　the　man　you　never　meet　anywhere　else　but　in　novels；　I　mean　the　self…made　man；　the　hard；　insatiable　man；　merciless　to　himself　as　well　as　to　others。　It　is　not　〃enterprise　〃；　it　is　kleptomania。　　He　is　quite　mad；　and　a　much　more　obvious　public　pest　than　any　other　kind　of　kleptomaniac；　but　though　he　is　a　cheat；　he　is　not　an　illusion。　　He　does　exist；　I　have　met　quite　two　of　him。　　Him　alone　among　modern　merchants　we　do　not　weakly　flatter　when　we　call　him　a　bandit。　Something　of　the　irresponsibility　of　the　true　dark　ages　really　clings　about　him。　　Our　scientific　civilisation　is　not　a　civilisation；　it　is　a　smoke　nuisance。　　Like　smoke　it　is　choking　us；　like　smoke　it　will　pass　away。　　Only　of　one　or　two　Scotsmen；　in　my　experience；　was　it　true　that　where　there　is　smoke　there　is　fire。

But　there　are　other　kinds　of　fire；　and　better。　　The　one　great　advantage　of　this　strange　national　temper　is　that；　from　the　beginning　of　all　chronicles；　it　has　provided　resistance　as　well　as　cruelty。　　In　Scotland　nearly　everything　has　always　been　in　revoltespecially　loyalty。　　If　these　people　are　capable　of　making　Glasgow；　they　are　also　capable　of　wrecking　it；　and　the　thought　of　my　many　good　friends　in　that　city　makes　me　really　doubtful　about　which　would　figure　in　human　memories　as　the　more　huge　calamity　of　the　two。　　In　Scotland　there　are　many　rich　men　so　weak　as　to　call　themselves　strong。　　But　there　are　not　so　many　poor　men　weak　enough　to　believe　them。

As　I　came　out　of　Glasgow　I　saw　men　standing　about　the　road。　　They　had　little　lanterns　tied　to　the　fronts　of　their　caps；　like　the　fairies　who　used　to　dance　in　the　old　fairy　pantomimes＇　They　were　not；　however；　strictly　speaking；　fairies。　　They　might　have　been　called　gnomes；　since　they　worked　in　the　chasms　of　those　purple　and　chaotic　hills。　　They　worked　in　the　mines　from　whence　comes　the　fuel　of　our　fires。　　Just　at　the　moment　when　I　saw　them；　moreover；　they　were　not　dancing；　nor　were　they　working。　They　were　doing　nothing。　　Which；　in　my　opinion　（and　I　trust　yours）；　was　the　finest　thing　they　could　do。



THE　SECTARIAN　OF　SOCIETY


A　fixed　creed　is　absolutely　indispensable　to　freedom。　　For　while　men　are　and　should　be　various；　there　must　be　some　communication　between　them　if　they　are　to　get　any　pleasure　out　of　their　variety。　　And　an　intellectual　formula　is　the　only　thing　that　can　create　a　communication　that　does　not　depend　on　mere　blood；　class；　or　capricious　sympathy。　　If　we　all　stark　with　the　agreement　that　the　sun　and　moon　exist；　we　can　talk　about　our　different　visions　of　them。　　The　strong…eyed　man　can　boast　that　he　sees　the　sun　as　a　perfect　circle。　　The　shortsighted　man　may　say　（or　if　he　is　an　impressionist；　boast）　that　he　sees　the　moon　as　a　silver　blur。　　The　colour…blind　man　may　rejoice　in　the　fairy…trick　which　enables　him　to　live　under　a　green　sun　and　a　blue　moon。　　But　if　once　it　be　held　that　there　is　nothing　but　a　silver　blur　in　one　man's　eye　or　a　bright　circle　（like　a　monocle）　in　the　other　man's；　then　neither　is　free；　for　each　is　shut　up　in　the　cell　of　a　separate　universe。

But；　indeed；　an　even　worse　fate；　practically　considered；　follows　from　the　denim　of　the　original　intellectual　formula。　　Not　only　does　the　individual　become　narrow；　but　he　spreads　narrowness　across　the　world　like　a　cloud；　he　causes　narrowness　to　increase　and　multiply　like　a　weed。　　For　what　happens　is　this：　that　all　the　shortsighted　people　come　together　and　build　a　city　called　Myopia；　where　they　take　short…sightedness　for　granted　and　paint　short…sighted　pictures　and　pursue　very　short…sighted　policies。　Meanwhile　all　the　men　who　can　stare　at　the　sun　get　together　on　Salisbury　Plain　and　do　nothing　but　stare　at　the　sun；　and　all　the　men　who　see　a　blue　moon　band　themselves　together　and　assert　the　blue　moon；　not　once　in　a　blue　moon；　but　incessantly。　　So　that　instead　of　a　small　and　varied　group；　you　have　enormous　monotonous　groups。　　Instead　of　the　liberty　of　dogma；　you　have　the　tyranny　of　taste。

Allegory　apart；　instances　of　what　I　mean　will　occur　to　every　one；　perhaps　the　most　obvious　is　Socialism。　　Socialism　means　the　ownership　by　the　organ　of　government　（whatever　it　is）　of　all　things　necessary　to　production。　　If　a　man　claims　to　be　a　Socialist　in　that　sense　he　can　be　any　kind　of　man　he　likes　in　any　other　sensea　bookie；　a　Mahatma；　a　man　about　town；　an　archbishop；　a　Margate　nigger。　Without　recalling　at　the　moment　clear…headed　Socialists　in　all　of　these　capacities；　it　is　obvious　that　a　clear…headed　Socialist　（that　is；　a　Socialist　with　a　creed）　can　be　a　soldier；　like　Mr。　Blatchford；　or　a　Don；　like　Mr。　Ball；　or　a　Bath…　chairman　like　Mr。　Meeke；　or　a　clergyman　like　Mr。　Conrad　Noel；　or　an　artistic　tradesman　like　the　late　Mr。　William　Morris。

But　some　people　call　themselves　Socialists；　and　will　not　be　bound　by　what　they　call　a　narrow　dogm