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the new machiavelli-第41章

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that she had no doubt she was a socialist。



〃And wearing a gold chain!〃 said Gertrude; 〃And drinking out of 

eggshell!  I like that!〃



I came to Margaret's rescue。  〃It doesn't follow that because one's 

a socialist one ought to dress in sackcloth and ashes。〃



The initial coloured deeply; and having secured my attention by 

prodding me slightly with the wrist of the hand that held his 

teacup; cleared his throat and suggested that 〃one ought to be 

consistent。〃



I perceived we were embarked upon a discussion of the elements。  We 

began an interesting little wrangle one of those crude discussions 

of general ideas that are dear to the heart of youth。  I and 

Margaret supported one another as socialists; Gertrude and Sybil and 

the initial maintained an anti…socialist position; the curate 

attempted a cross…bench position with an air of intending to come 

down upon us presently with a casting vote。  He reminded us of a 

number of useful principles too often overlooked in argument; that 

in a big question like this there was much to be said on both sides; 

that if every one did his or her duty to every one about them there 

would be no difficulty with social problems at all; that over and 

above all enactments we needed moral changes in people themselves。  

My cousin Gertrude was a difficult controversialist to manage; being 

unconscious of inconsistency in statement and absolutely impervious 

to reply。  Her standpoint was essentially materialistic; she didn't 

see why she shouldn't have a good time because other people didn't; 

they would have a good time; she was sure; if she didn't。  She said 

that if we did give up everything we had to other people; they 

wouldn't very likely know what to do with it。  She asked if we were 

so fond of work…people; why we didn't go and live among them; and 

expressed the inflexible persuasion that if we HAD socialism; 

everything would be just the same again in ten years' time。  She 

also threw upon us the imputation of ingratitude for a beautiful 

world by saying that so far as she was concerned she didn't want to 

upset everything。  She was contented with things as they were; thank 

you。



The discussion led in some way that I don't in the least recall now; 

and possibly by abrupt transitions; to a croquet foursome in which 

Margaret involved the curate without involving herself; and then 

stood beside me on the edge of the lawn while the others played。  We 

watched silently for a moment。



〃I HATE that sort of view;〃 she said suddenly in a confidential 

undertone; with her delicate pink flush returning。



〃It's want of imagination;〃 I said。



〃To think we are just to enjoy ourselves;〃 she went on; 〃just to go 

on dressing and playing and having meals and spending money!〃  She 

seemed to be referring not simply to my cousins; but to the whole 

world of industry and property about us。  〃But what is one to do?〃 

she asked。  〃I do wish I had not had to come down。  It's all so 

pointless here。  There seems to be nothing going forward; no ideas; 

no dreams。  No one here seems to feel quite what I feel; the sort of 

need there is for MEANING in things。  I hate things without 

meaning。〃



〃Don't you dolocal work?〃



〃I suppose I shall。  I suppose I must find something。  Do you think

if one were to attempt some sort of propaganda?〃



〃Could you?〃 I began a little doubtfully。



〃I suppose I couldn't;〃 she answered; after a thoughtful moment。  〃I 

suppose it would come to nothing。  And yet I feel there is so much 

to be done for the world; so much one ought to be doing。 。 。 。  I 

want to do something for the world。〃



I can see her now as she stood there with her brows nearly frowning; 

her blue eyes looking before her; her mouth almost petulant。  〃One 

feels that there are so many things going onout of one's reach;〃 

she said。



I went back in the motor…car with my mind full of her; the quality 

of delicate discontent; the suggestion of exile。  Even a kind of 

weakness in her was sympathetic。  She told tremendously against her 

background。  She was; I say; like a protesting blue flower upon a 

cinder heap。  It is curious; too; how she connects and mingles with 

the furious quarrel I had with my uncle that very evening。  That 

came absurdly。  Indirectly Margaret was responsible。  My mind was 

running on ideas she had revived and questions she had set 

clamouring; and quite inadvertently in my attempt to find solutions 

I talked so as to outrage his profoundest feelings。 。 。 。







7





What a preposterous shindy that was!



I sat with him in the smoking…room; propounding what I considered to 

be the most indisputable and non…contentious propositions 

conceivableuntil; to my infinite amazement; he exploded and called 

me a 〃damned young puppy。〃



It was seismic。



〃Tremendously interesting time;〃 I said; 〃just in the beginning of 

making a civilisation。〃



〃Ah!〃 he said; with an averted face; and nodded; leaning forward 

over his cigar。



I had not the remotest thought of annoying him。



〃Monstrous muddle of things we have got;〃 I said; 〃jumbled streets; 

ugly population; ugly factories〃



〃You'd do a sight better if you had to do with it;〃 said my uncle; 

regarding me askance。



〃Not me。  But a world that had a collective plan and knew where it 

meant to be going would do a sight better; anyhow。  We're all 

swimming in a flood of ill…calculated chances〃



〃You'll be making out I organised that business down thereby 

chancenext;〃 said my uncle; his voice thick with challenge。



I went on as though I was back in Trinity。



〃There's a lot of chance in the making of all great businesses;〃 I 

said。



My uncle remarked that that showed how much I knew about businesses。   

If chance made businesses; why was it that he always succeeded and 

grew while those fools Ackroyd and Sons always took second place?  

He showed a disposition to tell the glorious history of how once 

Ackroyd's overshadowed him; and how now he could buy up Ackroyd's 

three times over。  But I wanted to get out what was in my mind。



〃Oh!〃 I said; 〃as between man and man and business and business; 

some of course get the pull by this quality or thatbut it's forces 

quite outside the individual case that make the big part of any 

success under modern conditions。  YOU never invented pottery; nor 

any process in pottery that matters a rap in your works; it wasn't 

YOUR foresight that joined all England up with railways and made it 

possible to organise production on an altogether different scale。  

You really at the utmost can't take credit for much more than being 

the sort of man who happened to fit what happened to be the 

requirements of the time; and who happened to be in a position to 

take advantage of them〃



It was then my uncle cried out and called me a damned young puppy; 

and became involved in some unexpected trouble of his own。



I woke up as it were from my analysis of the situation to discover 

him bent over a splendid spittoon; cursing incoherently; retching a 

little; and spitting out the end of his cigar which he had bitten 

off in his last attempt at self…control; and withal fully prepared 

as soon as he had cleared for action to give me just all that he 

considered to be the contents of his mind upon the condition of 

mine。



Well; why shouldn't I talk my mind to him?  He'd never had an 

outside view of himself for years; and I resolved to stand up to 

him。  We went at it hammer and tongs!  It became clear that he 

supposed me to be a Socialist; a zealous; embittered hater of all 

ownershipand also an educated man of the vilest; most 

pretentiously superior description。   His principal grievance was 

that I thought I knew everything; to that he recurred again and 

again。 。 。 。



We had been maintaining an armed truce with each other since my 

resolve to go up to
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