the research magnificent-第39部分

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d　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　mourned　the　spring。　Indeed；　poor　dear！　he　had　seen　and　mourned　several　springs。　。　。　。　With　a　sigh　he　took　up　the　manuscript　and　read　Benham's　desiccated　story　of　intellectual　estrangement；　and　how　in　the　end　he　had　decided　to　leave　his　wife　and　go　out　alone　upon　that　journey　of　inquiry　he　had　been　planning　when　first　he　met　her。

3

Amanda　had　come　back　to　England　in　a　state　of　extravagantly　vigorous　womanhood。　　Benham's　illness；　though　it　lasted　only　two　or　three　weeks；　gave　her　a　sense　of　power　and　leadership　for　which　she　had　been　struggling　instinctively　ever　since　they　came　together。　　For　a　time　at　Locarno　he　was　lax…minded　and　indolent；　and　in　that　time　she　formed　her　bright　and　limited　plans　for　London。　　Benham　had　no　plans　as　yet　but　only　a　sense　of　divergence；　as　though　he　was　being　pulled　in　opposite　directions　by　two　irresistible　forces。　　To　her　it　was　plain　that　he　needed　occupation；　some　distinguished　occupation；　and　she　could　imagine　nothing　better　for　him　than　a　political　career。　She　perceived　he　had　personality；　that　he　stood　out　among　men　so　that　his　very　silences　were　effective。　　She　loved　him　immensely；　and　she　had　tremendous　ambitions　for　him　and　through　him。　And　also　London；　the　very　thought　of　London；　filled　her　with　appetite。　　Her　soul　thirsted　for　London。　　It　was　like　some　enormous　juicy　fruit　waiting　for　her　pretty　white　teeth；　a　place　almost　large　enough　to　give　her　avidity　the　sense　of　enough。　　She　felt　it　waiting　for　her；　household；　servants；　a　carriage；　shops　and　the　jolly　delight　of　buying　and　possessing　things；　the　opera；　first…nights；　picture　exhibitions；　great　dinner…parties；　brilliant　lunch　parties；　crowds　seen　from　a　point　of　vantage；　the　carriage　in　a　long　string　of　fine　carriages　with　the　lamplit　multitude　peering；　Amanda　in　a　thousand　bright　settings；　in　a　thousand　various　dresses。　　She　had　had　love；　it　had　been　glorious；　it　was　still　glorious；　but　her　love…　making　became　now　at　times　almost　perfunctory　in　the　contemplation　of　these　approaching　delights　and　splendours　and　excitements。　She　knew；　indeed；　that　ideas　were　at　work　in　Benham's　head；　but　she　was　a　realist。　　She　did　not　see　why　ideas　should　stand　in　the　way　of　a　career。　　Ideas　are　a　brightness；　the　good　looks　of　the　mind。　　One　talks　ideas；　but　THE　THING　THAT　IS；　IS　THE　THING　THAT　IS。　　And　though　she　believed　that　Benham　had　a　certain　strength　of　character　of　his　own；　she　had　that　sort　of　confidence　in　his　love　for　her　and　in　the　power　of　her　endearments　that　has　in　it　the　assurance　of　a　faint　contempt。　　She　had　mingled　pride　and　sense　in　the　glorious　realization　of　the　power　over　him　that　her　wit　and　beauty　gave　her。　She　had　held　him　faint　with　her　divinity；　intoxicated　with　the　pride　of　her　complete　possession；　and　she　did　not　dream　that　the　moment　when　he　should　see　clearly　that　she　could　deliberately　use　these　ultimate　delights　to　rule　and　influence　him；　would　be　the　end　of　their　splendour　and　her　power。　　Her　nature；　which　was　just　a　nest　of　vigorous　appetites；　was　incapable　of　suspecting　his　gathering　disillusionment　until　it　burst　upon　her。　Now　with　her　attention　set　upon　London　ahead　he　could　observe　her。　In　the　beginning　he　had　never　seemed　to　be　observing　her　at　all；　they　dazzled　one　another；　it　seemed　extraordinary　now　to　him　to　note　how　much　he　had　been　able　to　disregard。　　There　were　countless　times　still　when　he　would　have　dropped　his　observation　and　resumed　that　mutual　exaltation　very　gladly；　but　always　now　other　things　possessed　her　mind。　。　。　。　There　was　still　an　immense　pleasure　for　him　in　her　vigour；　there　was　something　delightful　in　her　pounce；　even　when　she　was　pouncing　on　things　superficial；　vulgar　or　destructive。　　She　made　him　understand　and　share　the　excitement　of　a　big　night　at　the　opera；　the　glitter　and　prettiness　of　a　smart　restaurant；　the　clustering　little　acute　adventures　of　a　great　reception　of　gay　people；　just　as　she　had　already　made　him　understand　and　sympathize　with　dogs。　　She　picked　up　the　art　world　where　he　had　laid　it　down；　and　she　forced　him　to　feel　dense　and　slow　before　he　rebelled　against　her　multitudinous　enthusiasms　and　admirations。　　South　Harting　had　had　its　little　group　of　artistic　people；　it　is　not　one　of　your　sleepy　villages；　and　she　slipped　back　at　once　into　the　movement。　　Those　were　the　great　days　of　John；　the　days　before　the　Post　Impressionist　outbreak。　　John；　Orpen；　Tonks；　she　bought　them　with　vigour。　　Artistic　circles　began　to　revolve　about　her。　　Very　rapidly　she　was　in　possession。　。　。　。　And　among　other　desirable　things　she　had；　it　seemed；　pounced　upon　and　captured　Lady　Marayne。　At　any　rate　it　was　clear　that　that　awful　hostile　silence　and　aloofness　was　to　end。　　Benham　never　quite　mastered　how　it　was　done。　But　Amanda　had　gone　in　one　morning　to　Desborough　Street；　very　sweetly　and　chastely　dressed；　had　abased　herself　and　announced　a　possible　（though　subsequently　disproved）　grandchild。　　And　she　had　appreciated　the　little　lady　so　highly　and　openly；　she　had　so　instantly　caught　and　reproduced　her　tone；　that　her　success；　though　only　temporary　in　its　completeness；　was　immediate。　　In　the　afte