按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
very interesting psychological study； and though of all poses a moral pose is the most offensive； still to have a pose at all is something。 It is a formal recognition of the importance of treating life from a definite and reasoned standpoint。 That Humanitarian Sympathy wars against Nature； by securing the survival of the failure； may make the man of science loathe its facile virtues。 The political economist may cry out against it for putting the improvident on the same level as the provident； and so robbing life of the strongest； because most sordid； incentive to industry。 But； in the eyes of the thinker； the real harm that emotional sympathy does is that it limits knowledge； and so prevents us from solving any single social problem。 We are trying at present to stave off the coming crisis； the coming revolution as my friends the Fabianists call it； by means of doles and alms。 Well； when the revolution or crisis arrives； we shall be powerless； because we shall know nothing。 And so； Ernest； let us not be deceived。 England will never be civilised till she has added Utopia to her dominions。 There is more than one of her colonies that she might with advantage surrender for so fair a land。 What we want are unpractical people who see beyond the moment； and think beyond the day。 Those who try to lead the people can only do so by following the mob。 It is through the voice of one crying in the wilderness that the ways of the gods must be prepared。
But perhaps you think that in beholding for the mere joy of beholding； and contemplating for the sake of contemplation； there is something that is egotistic。 If you think so； do not say so。 It takes a thoroughly selfish age； like our own； to deify self… sacrifice。 It takes a thoroughly grasping age； such as that in which we live； to set above the fine intellectual virtues； those shallow and emotional virtues that are an immediate practical benefit to itself。 They miss their aim； too； these philanthropists and sentimentalists of our day； who are always chattering to one about one's duty to one's neighbour。 For the development of the race depends on the development of the individual； and where self… culture has ceased to be the ideal； the intellectual standard is instantly lowered； and； often； ultimately lost。 If you meet at dinner a man who has spent his life in educating himself … a rare type in our time； I admit； but still one occasionally to be met with … you rise from table richer； and conscious that a high ideal has for a moment touched and sanctified your days。 But oh！ my dear Ernest； to sit next to a man who has spent his life in trying to educate others！ What a dreadful experience that is！ How appalling is that ignorance which is the inevitable result of the fatal habit of imparting opinions！ How limited in range the creature's mind proves to be！ How it wearies us； and must weary himself； with its endless repetitions and sickly reiteration！ How lacking it is in any element of intellectual growth！ In what a vicious circle it always moves！
ERNEST。 You speak with strange feeling； Gilbert。 Have you had this dreadful experience； as you call it； lately？
GILBERT。 Few of us escape it。 People say that the schoolmaster is abroad。 I wish to goodness he were。 But the type of which； after all； he is only one； and certainly the least important； of the representatives； seems to me to be really dominating our lives； and just as the philanthropist is the nuisance of the ethical sphere； so the nuisance of the intellectual sphere is the man who is so occupied in trying to educate others； that he has never had any time to educate himself。 No； Ernest； self…culture is the true ideal of man。 Goethe saw it； and the immediate debt that we owe to Goethe is greater than the debt we owe to any man since Greek days。 The Greeks saw it； and have left us； as their legacy to modern thought； the conception of the contemplative life as well as the critical method by which alone can that life be truly realised。 It was the one thing that made the Renaissance great； and gave us Humanism。 It is the one thing that could make our own age great also； for the real weakness of England lies； not in incomplete armaments or unfortified coasts； not in the poverty that creeps through sunless lanes； or the drunkenness that brawls in loathsome courts； but simply in the fact that her ideals are emotional and not intellectual。
I do not deny that the intellectual ideal is difficult of attainment； still less that it is； and perhaps will be for years to come； unpopular with the crowd。 It is so easy for people to have sympathy with suffering。 It is so difficult for them to have sympathy with thought。 Indeed； so little do ordinary people understand what thought really is； that they seem to imagine that； when they have said that a theory is dangerous； they have pronounced its condemnation； whereas it is only such theories that have any true intellectual value。 An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all。
ERNEST。 Gilbert； you bewilder me。 You have told me that all art is； in its essence； immoral。 Are you going to tell me now that all thought is； in its essence； dangerous？
GILBERT。 Yes； in the practical sphere it is so。 The security of society lies in custom and unconscious instinct； and the basis of the stability of society； as a healthy organism； is the complete absence of any intelligence amongst its members。 The great majority of people being fully aware of this； rank themselves naturally on the side of that splendid system that elevates them to the dignity of machines； and rage so wildly against the intrusion of the intellectual faculty into any question that concerns life； that one is tempted to define man as a rational animal who always loses his temper when he is called upon to act in accordance with the dictates of reason。 But let us turn from the practical sphere； and say no more about the wicked philanthropists； who； indeed； may well be left to the mercy of the almond…eyed sage of the Yellow River Chuang Tsu the wise； who has proved that such well…meaning and offensive busybodies have destroyed the simple and spontaneous virtue that there is in man。 They are a wearisome topic； and I am anxious to get back to the sphere in which criticism is free。
ERNEST。 The sphere of the intellect？
GILBERT。 Yes。 You remember that I spoke of the critic as being in his own way as creative as the artist； whose work； indeed； may be merely of value in so far as it gives to the critic a suggestion for some new mood of thought and feeling which he can realise with equal； or perhaps greater； distinction of form； and； through the use of a fresh medium of expression； make differently beautiful and more perfect。 Well； you seemed to be a little sceptical about the theory。 But perhaps I wronged you？
ERNEST。 I am not really sceptical about it； but I must admit that I feel very strongly that such work as you describe the critic producing … and creative such work must undoubtedly be admitted to be … is； of necessity； purely subjective； whereas the greatest work is objective always； objective and impersonal。
GILBERT。 The difference between objective and subjective work is one of external form merely。 It is accidental； not essential。 All artistic creation is absolutely subjective。 The very landscape that Corot looked at was； as he said himself； but a mood of his own mind； and those great figures of Greek or English drama that seem to us to possess an actual existence of their own； apart from the poets who shaped and fashioned them； are； in their ultimate analysis； simply the poets themselves； not as they thought they were； but as they thought they were not； and by such thinking came in strange manner； though but for a moment； really so to be。 For out of ourselves we can never pass； nor can there be in creation what in the creator was not。 Nay； I would say that the more objective a creation appears to be； the more subjective it really is。 Shakespeare might have met Rosencrantz and Guildenstern in the white streets of London； or seen the serving…men of rival houses bite their thumbs at each other in the open square； but Hamlet came out of his soul； and Romeo out