the patrician-第44部分

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before　him　in　this　sanguine　man；　whose　voice　and　eyes　had　such　a
white…hot　sound　and　look；　the　incarnation　of　all　that　he
temperamentally　opposed。

〃That；〃　he　said；　〃is　devil's　advocacy。　　I　admit　no　individual　as
judge　in　his　own　case。〃

〃Ah！　Now　we're　coming　to　it。　　By　the　way；　shall　we　get　out　of　this
heat？〃

They　were　no　sooner　in　the　cooler　street；　than　the　voice　of　Courtier
began　again：

〃Distrust　of　human　nature；　fearit's　the　whole　basis　of　action　for
men　of　your　stamp。　　You　deny　the　right　of　the　individual　to　judge；
because　you've　no　faith　in　the　essential　goodness　of　men；　at　heart
you　believe　them　bad。　　You　give　them　no　freedom；　you　allow　them　no
consent；　because　you　believe　that　their　decisions　would　move
downwards；　and　not　upwards。　　Well；　it's　the　whole　difference　between
the　aristocratic　and　the　democratic　view　of　life。　　As　you　once　told
me；　you　hate　and　fear　the　crowd。〃

Miltoun　eyed　that　steady　sanguine　face　askance：

〃Yes；〃　he　said；　〃I　do　believe　that　men　are　raised　in　spite　of
themselves。〃

〃You're　honest。　　By　whom？〃

Again　Miltoun　felt　rising　within　him　a　sort　of　fury。　　Once　for　all　he
would　slay　this　red…haired　rebel；　he　answered　with　almost　savage
irony：

〃Strangely　enough；　by　that　Being　to　mention　whom　you　objectworking
through　the　medium　of　the　best。〃

〃High…Priest！　　Look　at　that　girl　slinking　along　there；　with　her　eye
on　us；　suppose；　instead　of　withdrawing　your　garment；　you　went　over
and　talked　to　her；　got　her　to　tell　you　what　she　really　felt　and
thought；　you'd　find　things　that　would　astonish　you。　　At　bottom；
mankind　is　splendid。　　And　they're　raised；　sir；　by　the　aspiration
that's　in　all　of　them。　　Haven't　you　ever　noticed　that　public
sentiment　is　always　in　advance　of　the　Law？〃

〃And　you；〃　said　Miltoun；　〃are　the　man　who　is　never　on　the　side　of　the
majority？〃

The　champion　of　lost　causes　uttered　a　short　laugh。

〃Not　so　logical　as　all　that；〃　he　answered；　〃the　wind　still　blows；　and
Life's　not　a　set　of　rules　hung　up　in　an　office。　　Let's　see；　where　are
we？〃　　They　had　been　brought　to　a　stand…still　by　a　group　on　the
pavement　in　front　of　the　Queen's　Hall：　〃Shall　we　go　in；　and　hear　some
music；　and　cool　our　tongues？〃

Miltoun　nodded；　and　they　went　in。

The　great　lighted　hall；　filled　with　the　faint　bluefish　vapour　from
hundreds　of　little　rolls　of　tobacco　leaf；　was　crowded　from　floor　to
ceiling。

Taking　his　stand　among　the　straw…hatted　throng；　Miltoun　heard　that
steady　ironical　voice　behind　him：

〃Profanum　vulgus！　　Come　to　listen　to　the　finest　piece　of　music　ever
written！　　Folk　whom　you　wouldn't　trust　a　yard　to　know　what　was　good
for　them！　　Deplorable　sight；　isn't　it？〃

He　made　no　answer。　　The　first　slow　notes　of　the　seventh　Symphony　of
Beethoven　had　begun　to　steal　forth　across　the　bank　of　flowers；　and；
save　for　the　steady　rising　of　that　bluefish　vapour；　as　it　were
incense　burnt　to　the　god　of　melody；　the　crowd　had　become　deathly
still；　as　though　one　mind；　one　spirit；　possessed　each　pale　face
inclined　towards　that　music　rising　and　falling　like　the　sighing　of
the　winds；　that　welcome　from　death　the　freed　spirits　of　the
beautiful。

When　the　last　notes　had　died　away；　he　turned　and　walked　out。

〃Well；〃　said　the　voice　behind　him；　〃hasn't　that　shown　you　how　things
swell　and　grow；　how　splendid　the　world　is？〃

Miltoun　smiled。

〃It　has　shown　me　how　beautiful　the　world　can　be　made　by　a　great　man。〃

And　suddenly；　as　if　the　music　had　loosened　some　band　within　him；　he
began　to　pour　forth　words：

〃Look　at　the　crowd　in　this　street；　Courtier；　which　of　all　crowds　in
the　whole　world　can　best　afford　to　be　left　to　itself；　secure　from
pestilence；　earthquake；　cyclone；　drought；　from　extremes　of　heat　and
cold；　in　the　heart　of　the　greatest　and　safest　city　in　the　world；　and
yet…see　the　figure　of　that　policeman！　　Running　through　all　the　good
behaviour　of　this　crowd；　however　safe　and　free　it　looks；　there　is；
there　always　must　be；　a　central　force　holding　it　together。　　Where
does　that　central　force　come　from？　　From　the　crowd　itself；　you　say。
I　answer：　No。　　Look　back　at　the　origin　of　human　States。　　From　the
beginnings　of　things；　the　best　man　has　been　the　unconscious　medium　of
authority；　of　the　controlling　principle；　of　the　divine　force；　he　felt
that　power　within　himphysical；　at　firsthe　used　it　to　take　the
lead；　he　has　held　the　lead　ever　since；　he　must　always　hold　it。　　All
your　processes　of　election；　your　so…called　democratic　apparatus；　are
only　a　blind　to　the　inquiring；　a　sop　to　the　hungry；　a　salve　to　the
pride　of　the　rebellious。　　They　are　merely　surface　machinery；　they
cannot　prevent　the　best　man　from　coming　to　the　top；　for　the　best　man
stands　nearest　to　the　Deity；　and　is　the　first　to　receive　the　waves
that　come　from　Him。　　I'm　not　speaking　of　heredity。　　The　best　man　is
not　necessarily　born　in　my　class；　and　I；　at　all　events；　do　not
believe　he　is　any　more　frequent　there　than　in　other　classes。〃

He　stopped　as　suddenly　as　he　had　begun。

〃You　needn't　be　afraid；〃　answered　Courtier；　〃that　I　take　you　for　an
average　specimen。　　You're　at　one　end；　and　I　at　the　other；　and　we
probably　both　miss　the　golden　mark。　　But　the　world　is　not　ruled　by
power；　and　the　fear　which　power　produces；　as　you　think；　it's　ruled　by
love。　　Society　is　held　together　by　the　natural　decency　in　man；　by
fellow…feeling。　　The　democratic　principle；　which　you　despise；　at　root
means　nothing　at　all　but　that。　　Man　left　to　himself　is　on　the　upward
lay。　　If　it　weren't　so；　do　you　imagine　for　a　moment　your　'boys　in
blue'　could　keep　order？　　A　man　knows　unconsciously　what　he　can　and
what　he　can't　do；　without　losing　his　self…respect。　　He　sucks　that
knowledge　in　with　every　breath。　　Laws　and　authority　are　not　the　be…
all　and　end…all；　they　are　conveniences；　machinery；　conduit　pipes；
main　roads。　　They're　not　of　the　structure　of　the　buildingthey're
only　scaffolding。〃

Miltoun　lunged　out　with　the　retort

〃Without　which　no　building　could　be　built。〃

Courtier　parried。

〃That's　rather　different；　my　friend；　from　identifying　them　with　the
building。　　They　are　things　to　be　taken　down　as　fast　as　ever　they　can
be　cleared　away；　to　make　room　for　an　edifice　that　begins　on　earth；
not　in　the　sky。　　All　the　scaffolding　of　law　is　merely　there　to　save
time；　to　prevent　the　temple；　as　it　mounts；　from　losing　its　way；　and
straying　out　of　form。〃

〃No；〃　said　Miltoun；　〃no！　　The　scaffolding；　as　you　call　it；　is　the
material　projection　of　the　architect's　conception；　without　which　the
temple　does　not　and　cannot　rise；　and　the　architect　is　God；　working
through　the　minds　and　spirits　most　akin　to　Himself。〃

〃We　are　now　at　the　bed…rock；〃　cried　Courtier；　〃your　God　is　outside
this　world。　　Mine　within　it。〃

〃And　never　the　twain　shall　meet！〃

In　the　silence　that　followed　Miltoun　saw　that　they　were　in　Leicester
Square；　all　quiet　as　yet　before　the　theatres　had　disgorged；　quiet　yet
waiting；　with　the　lights；　like　yellow　stars　low…driven　from　the　dark
heavens；　clinging　to　the　white　shapes　of　music…halls　and　cafes；　and　a
sort　of　flying　glamour　blanching　the　still　foliage　of　the　plane
trees。

〃A　'whitely　wanton'this　Square！〃　said　Courtier：　〃Alive　as　a　face；
no　end　to　its　queer　beauty！　　And；　by　Jove；　if　you　went　deep　enough；
you'd　find　goodness　even　here。〃

〃And　you'd　ignore　the　vice；〃　Miltoun　answered。

He　felt　weary　all　of　a　sudden；　anxious　to　get　to　his　rooms；　unwilling
to　continue　this　battle　of　words；　that　brought　him　no　nearer　to
relief。　　It　was　with　strange　lassitude　that　he　heard　the　voice　still
speaking：

〃We　must　make　a　night　of　it；　since　to…morrow　we　die。。。。　　You　would
curb　licence　from　withoutI　from　within。　　When　I　get　up　and　when　I
go　to　bed；　when　I　draw　a　breath；　see　a　face；　or　a　flower；　or　a　tree
if　I　didn't　feel　that　I　was　looking　on　the　Deity；　I　believe　I　should
quit　this　palace　of　varieties；　from　sheer　boredom。　　You；　I
understand；　can't　look　on　your　God；　unless　you　withdraw　into　some
high　place。　　Isn't　it　a　bit　lonely　there？〃

〃There　are　worse　things　than　loneliness。〃　　And　they　walked　on；　in
silence；　till　suddenly　Miltoun　broke　out：

〃You　talk　of　tyranny！　　What　tyranny　could　equal　this　tyranny　of　your
freedom？　　What　tyranny　in　the　world　like　that　of　this　'free'　vulgar；
narrow　street；　with　its　hundred　journals　teeming　like　ants'　nests；　to
produce…what？　　In　the　entrails　of　that　creature　of　your　freedom；
Courtier；　there　is　room　neither　for　exaltation；　discipline；　nor
sacrifice；　there　is　room　only　for　commerce；　and　licence。〃

There　was　no　answer　for　a　moment；　and　from　those　tall　houses；　whose
lighted　windows　he　had　apostrophized；　Miltoun　turned　away　towards　the
river。　　〃No；〃　said　the　voice　beside　him；　〃for　all　its　faults；　the
wind　blows　in　that　street；　and　there's　a　chance　for　everything。　　By
God；　I　would　rather　see　a　few　stars　struggle　out　in　a　black　sky　than
any　of　your　perfect　artificial　lighting。〃

And　suddenly　it　seemed　to　Miltoun　that　he　could　never　free　himself
from　the　echoes　of　that　voiceit　was　not　worth　while　to　try。　　〃We
are　repeating　ourselves；〃　he　said；　dryly。

The　river's　black　water　was　making　stilly；　slow　recessional　under　a
half…moon。　　Beneath　the　cloak　of　night　the　chaos　on　the　far　bank；　the
forms　of　cranes；　high　buildings；　jetties；　the　bodies　of　the　sleeping
barges；　amillion　queer　dark　shapes；　were　invested　with　emotion。
All　was　religious　out　there；　all　beautiful；　all　strange。　　And　over
this　great　quiet　friend　of　man；　lampsthose　humble　flowers　of　night；
were　throwing　down　the　faint　continual　glamour　of　fallen　petals；　and
a　sweet…scented　wind　stole　along　from　the　West；　very　slow　as　yet；
bringing　in　advance　the　tremor　and　perfume　of　the　innumerable　trees
and　fields　which　the　river　had　loved　as　she　came　by。

A　murmur　that　was　no　true　sound；　but　like　the　whisper　of　a　heart　to。
a　heart；　accompanied　this　voyage　of　the　dark　water。

Then　a　small　blunt　skiffmanned　by　two　rowers　came　by　under　the
wall；　with　the　thudding　and　the　creak　of　oars。

〃So　'To…morrow　we　die'？〃　said　Miltoun　：　〃You　mean；　I　suppose；　that
'public　life'　is　the　breath　of　my　nostrils；　and　I　must　die；　because　I
give　it　up？〃

Courtier　nodded。

〃Am　I　right　in　thinking　that　it　was　my　young　sister　who　sent　you　on
this　crusade？〃

Courtier　did　not　answer。

〃And　so；〃　M