heretics- 第26部分

Nietzsche　and　the　Bow　Bells　Novelettes　have　both　obviously



the　same　fundamental　character；　they　both　worship　the　tall　man



with　curling　moustaches　and　herculean　bodily　power；　and　they　both



worship　him　in　a　manner　which　is　somewhat　feminine　and　hysterical。



Even　here；　however；　the　Novelette　easily　maintains　its



philosophical　superiority；　because　it　does　attribute　to　the　strong



man　those　virtues　which　do　commonly　belong　to　him；　such　virtues



as　laziness　and　kindliness　and　a　rather　reckless　benevolence；



and　a　great　dislike　of　hurting　the　weak。　　Nietzsche；　on　the　other　hand；



attributes　to　the　strong　man　that　scorn　against　weakness　which



only　exists　among　invalids。　　It　is　not；　however；　of　the　secondary



merits　of　the　great　German　philosopher；　but　of　the　primary　merits



of　the　Bow　Bells　Novelettes；　that　it　is　my　present　affair　to　speak。



The　picture　of　aristocracy　in　the　popular　sentimental　novelette　seems



to　me　very　satisfactory　as　a　permanent　political　and　philosophical　guide。



It　may　be　inaccurate　about　details　such　as　the　title　by　which　a　baronet



is　addressed　or　the　width　of　a　mountain　chasm　which　a　baronet　can



conveniently　leap；　but　it　is　not　a　bad　description　of　the　general



idea　and　intention　of　aristocracy　as　they　exist　in　human　affairs。



The　essential　dream　of　aristocracy　is　magnificence　and　valour；



and　if　the　Family　Herald　Supplement　sometimes　distorts　or　exaggerates



these　things；　at　least；　it　does　not　fall　short　in　them。



It　never　errs　by　making　the　mountain　chasm　too　narrow　or　the　title



of　the　baronet　insufficiently　impressive。　　But　above　this



sane　reliable　old　literature　of　snobbishness　there　has　arisen



in　our　time　another　kind　of　literature　of　snobbishness　which；



with　its　much　higher　pretensions；　seems　to　me　worthy　of　very　much



less　respect。　　Incidentally　（if　that　matters）；　it　is　much



better　literature。　　But　it　is　immeasurably　worse　philosophy；



immeasurably　worse　ethics　and　politics；　immeasurably　worse　vital



rendering　of　aristocracy　and　humanity　as　they　really　are。



From　such　books　as　those　of　which　I　wish　now　to　speak　we　can



discover　what　a　clever　man　can　do　with　the　idea　of　aristocracy。



But　from　the　Family　Herald　Supplement　literature　we　can　learn



what　the　idea　of　aristocracy　can　do　with　a　man　who　is　not　clever。



And　when　we　know　that　we　know　English　history。







This　new　aristocratic　fiction　must　have　caught　the　attention　of



everybody　who　has　read　the　best　fiction　for　the　last　fifteen　years。



It　is　that　genuine　or　alleged　literature　of　the　Smart　Set　which



represents　that　set　as　distinguished；　not　only　by　smart　dresses；



but　by　smart　sayings。　　To　the　bad　baronet；　to　the　good　baronet；



to　the　romantic　and　misunderstood　baronet　who　is　supposed　to　be　a



bad　baronet；　but　is　a　good　baronet；　this　school　has　added　a　conception



undreamed　of　in　the　former　yearsthe　conception　of　an　amusing　baronet。



The　aristocrat　is　not　merely　to　be　taller　than　mortal　men



and　stronger　and　handsomer；　he　is　also　to　be　more　witty。



He　is　the　long　man　with　the　short　epigram。　　Many　eminent；



and　deservedly　eminent；　modern　novelists　must　accept　some



responsibility　for　having　supported　this　worst　form　of　snobbishness



an　intellectual　snobbishness。　　The　talented　author　of　〃Dodo〃　is



responsible　for　having　in　some　sense　created　the　fashion　as　a　fashion。



Mr。　Hichens；　in　the　〃Green　Carnation；〃　reaffirmed　the　strange　idea



that　young　noblemen　talk　well；　though　his　case　had　some　vague



biographical　foundation；　and　in　consequence　an　excuse。　　Mrs。　Craigie



is　considerably　guilty　in　the　matter；　although；　or　rather　because；



she　has　combined　the　aristocratic　note　with　a　note　of　some　moral



and　even　religious　sincerity。　　When　you　are　saving　a　man's　soul；



even　in　a　novel；　it　is　indecent　to　mention　that　he　is　a　gentleman。



Nor　can　blame　in　this　matter　be　altogether　removed　from　a　man　of　much



greater　ability；　and　a　man　who　has　proved　his　possession　of　the　highest



of　human　instinct；　the　romantic　instinctI　mean　Mr。　Anthony　Hope。



In　a　galloping；　impossible　melodrama　like　〃The　Prisoner　of　Zenda；〃



the　blood　of　kings　fanned　an　excellent　fantastic　thread　or　theme。



But　the　blood　of　kings　is　not　a　thing　that　can　be　taken　seriously。



And　when；　for　example；　Mr。　Hope　devotes　so　much　serious　and　sympathetic



study　to　the　man　called　Tristram　of　Blent；　a　man　who　throughout　burning



boyhood　thought　of　nothing　but　a　silly　old　estate；　we　feel　even　in



Mr。　Hope　the　hint　of　this　excessive　concern　about　the　oligarchic　idea。



It　is　hard　for　any　ordinary　person　to　feel　so　much　interest　in　a



young　man　whose　whole　aim　is　to　own　the　house　of　Blent　at　the　time



when　every　other　young　man　is　owning　the　stars。







Mr。　Hope；　however；　is　a　very　mild　case；　and　in　him　there　is　not



only　an　element　of　romance；　but　also　a　fine　element　of　irony



which　warns　us　against　taking　all　this　elegance　too　seriously。



Above　all；　he　shows　his　sense　in　not　making　his　noblemen　so　incredibly



equipped　with　impromptu　repartee。　　This　habit　of　insisting　on



the　wit　of　the　wealthier　classes　is　the　last　and　most　servile



of　all　the　servilities。　　It　is；　as　I　have　said；　immeasurably　more



contemptible　than　the　snobbishness　of　the　novelette　which　describes



the　nobleman　as　smiling　like　an　Apollo　or　riding　a　mad　elephant。



These　may　be　exaggerations　of　beauty　and　courage；　but　beauty　and　courage



are　the　unconscious　ideals　of　aristocrats；　even　of　stupid　aristocrats。







The　nobleman　of　the　novelette　may　not　be　sketched　with　any　very　close



or　conscientious　attention　to　the　daily　habits　of　noblemen。　　But　he　is



something　more　important　than　a　reality；　he　is　a　practical　ideal。



The　gentleman　of　fiction　may　not　copy　the　gentleman　of　real　life；



but　the　gentleman　of　real　life　is　copying　the　gentleman　of　fiction。



He　may　not　be　particularly　good…looking；　but　he　would　rather　be



good…looking　than　anything　else；　he　may　not　have　ridden　on　a　mad　elephant；



but　he　rides　a　pony　as　far　as　possible　with　an　air　as　if　he　had。



And；　upon　the　whole；　the　upper　class　not　only　especially　desire



these　qualities　of　beauty　and　courage；　but　in　some　degree；



at　any　rate；　especially　possess　them。　　Thus　there　is　nothing　really



mean　or　sycophantic　about　the　popular　literature　which　makes　all　its



marquises　seven　feet　high。　　It　is　snobbish；　but　it　is　not　servile。



Its　exaggeration　is　based　on　an　exuberant　and　honest　admiration；



its　honest　admiration　is　based　upon　something　which　is　in　some　degree；



at　any　rate；　really　there。　　The　English　lower　classes　do　not



fear　the　English　upper　classes　in　the　least；　nobody　could。



They　simply　and　freely　and　sentimentally　worship　them。



The　strength　of　the　aristocracy　is　not　in　the　aristocracy　at　all；



it　is　in　the　slums。　　It　is　not　in　the　House　of　Lords；　it　is　not



in　the　Civil　Service；　it　is　not　in　the　Government　offices；　it　is　not



even　in　the　huge　and　disproportionate　monopoly　of　the　English　land。



It　is　in　a　certain　spirit。　　It　is　in　the　fact　that　when　a　navvy



wishes　to　praise　a　man；　it　comes　readily　to　his　tongue　to　say



that　he　has　behaved　like　a　gentleman。　　From　a　democratic　point



of　view　he　might　as　well　say　that　he　had　behaved　like　a　viscount。



The　oligarchic　character　of　the　modern　English　commonwealth　does　not　rest；



like　many　oligarchies；　on　the　cruelty　of　the　rich　to　the　poor。



It　does　not　even　rest　on　the　kindness　of　the　rich　to　the　poor。



It　rests　on　the　perennial　and　unfailing　kindness　of　the　poor



to　the　rich。







The　snobbishness　of　bad　literature；　then；　is　not　servile；　but　the



snobbishness　of　good　literature　is　servile。　　The　old…fashioned　halfpenny



romance　where　the　duchesses　sparkled　with　diamonds　was　not　servile；



but　the　new　romance　where　they　sparkle　with　epigrams　is　servile。



For　in　thus　attributing　a　special　and　startling　degree　of　intellect



and　conversational　or　controversial　power　to　the　upper　classes；



we　are　attributing　something　which　is　not　especially　their　virtue



or　even　especially　their　aim。　　We　are；　in　the　words　of　Disraeli



（who；　being　a　genius　and　not　a　gentleman；　has　perhaps　primarily



to　answer　for　the　introduction　of　this　method　of　flattering



the　gentry）；　we　are　performing　the　essential　function　of　flattery



which　is　flattering　the　people　for　the　qualities　they　have　not　got。



Praise　may　be　gigantic　and　insane　without　having　any　quality



of　flattery　so　long　as　it　is　praise　of　something　that　is　noticeably



in　existence。　　A　man　may　say　that　a　giraffe's　head　strikes



the　stars；　or　that　a　whale　fills　the　German　Ocean；　and　still



be　only　in　a　rather　excited　state　about　a　favourite　animal。



But　when　he　begins　to　congratulate　the　giraffe　on　his　feathers；



and　the　whale　on　the　elegance　of　his　legs；　we　find　ourselves



confronted　with　that　social　element　which　we　call　flattery。



The　middle　and　lower　orders　of　London　can　sincerely；　though　not



perhaps　safely；　admire　the　health　and　grace　of　the　English　aristocracy。



And　this　for　the　very　simple　reason　that　the　aristocrats　are；



upon　the　whole；　more　healthy　and　graceful　than　the　poor。



But　they　cannot　honestly　admire　the　wit　of　the　aristocrats。



And　this　for　the　simple　reason　that　the　aristocrats　are　not　more　witty



than　the　poor；　but　a　very　great　deal　less　so。　　A　man　does　not　hear；



as　in　the　smart　novels；　these　gems　of　verbal　felicity　dropped　between



diplomatists　at　dinner。　　Where　he　really　does　hear　them　is　between



two　omnibus　conductors　in　a　block　in　Holborn。　　The　witty　peer　whose



impromptus　fill　the　books　of　Mrs。　Craigie　or　Miss　Fowle