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diff --git a/1143.txt b/1143.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7794ae4 --- /dev/null +++ b/1143.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7747 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Notes on Life and Letters, by Joseph Conrad + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Notes on Life and Letters + + +Author: Joseph Conrad + +Release Date: March 25, 2005 [eBook #1143] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOTES ON LIFE AND LETTERS*** + + + + + + +Transcribed from the 1921 J. M. Dent edition by David Price, email +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +NOTES ON LIFE & LETTERS + + +Contents: + +Author's note + +PART I--Letters + +BOOKS--1905. +HENRY JAMES--AN APPRECIATION--1905 +ALPHONSE DAUDET--1898 +GUY DE MAUPASSANT--1904 +ANATOLE FRANCE--1904 +TURGENEV--1917 +STEPHEN CRANE--A NOTE WITHOUT DATES--1919 +TALES OF THE SEA--1898 +AN OBSERVER IN MALAYA--1898 +A HAPPY WANDERER--1910 +THE LIFE BEYOND--1910 +THE ASCENDING EFFORT--1910 +THE CENSOR OF PLAYS--AN APPRECIATION--1907 + +PART II--Life + +AUTOCRACY AND WAR--1905 +THE CRIME OF PARTITION--1919 +A NOTE ON THE POLISH PROBLEM--1916 +POLAND REVISITED--1915 +FIRST NEWS--1918 +WELL DONE--1918 +TRADITION--1918 +CONFIDENCE--1919 +FLIGHT--1917 +SOME REFLECTIONS ON THE LOSS OF THE _TITANIC_--1912 +CERTAIN ASPECTS OF THE ADMIRABLE INQUIRY INTO THE LOSS OF THE +_TITANIC_--1912 +PROTECTION OF OCEAN LINERS--1914 +A FRIENDLY PLACE + + + + +AUTHOR'S NOTE + + +I don't know whether I ought to offer an apology for this collection +which has more to do with life than with letters. Its appeal is made to +orderly minds. This, to be frank about it, is a process of tidying up, +which, from the nature of things, cannot be regarded as premature. The +fact is that I wanted to do it myself because of a feeling that had +nothing to do with the considerations of worthiness or unworthiness of +the small (but unbroken) pieces collected within the covers of this +volume. Of course it may be said that I might have taken up a broom and +used it without saying anything about it. That, certainly, is one way of +tidying up. + +But it would have been too much to have expected me to treat all this +matter as removable rubbish. All those things had a place in my life. +Whether any of them deserve to have been picked up and ranged on the +shelf--this shelf--I cannot say, and, frankly, I have not allowed my mind +to dwell on the question. I was afraid of thinking myself into a mood +that would hurt my feelings; for those pieces of writing, whatever may be +the comment on their display, appertain to the character of the man. + +And so here they are, dusted, which was but a decent thing to do, but in +no way polished, extending from the year '98 to the year '20, a thin +array (for such a stretch of time) of really innocent attitudes: Conrad +literary, Conrad political, Conrad reminiscent, Conrad controversial. +Well, yes! A one-man show--or is it merely the show of one man? + +The only thing that will not be found amongst those Figures and Things +that have passed away, will be Conrad _en pantoufles_. It is a +constitutional inability. _Schlafrock und pantoffeln_! Not that! Never! +. . . I don't know whether I dare boast like a certain South American +general who used to say that no emergency of war or peace had ever found +him "with his boots off"; but I may say that whenever the various +periodicals mentioned in this book called on me to come out and blow the +trumpet of personal opinions or strike the pensive lute that speaks of +the past, I always tried to pull on my boots first. I didn't want to do +it, God knows! Their Editors, to whom I beg to offer my thanks here, +made me perform mainly by kindness but partly by bribery. Well, yes! +Bribery? What can you expect? I never pretended to be better than the +people in the next street, or even in the same street. + +This volume (including these embarrassed introductory remarks) is as near +as I shall ever come to _deshabille_ in public; and perhaps it will do +something to help towards a better vision of the man, if it gives no more +than a partial view of a piece of his back, a little dusty (after the +process of tidying up), a little bowed, and receding from the world not +because of weariness or misanthropy but for other reasons that cannot be +helped: because the leaves fall, the water flows, the clock ticks with +that horrid pitiless solemnity which you must have observed in the +ticking of the hall clock at home. For reasons like that. Yes! It +recedes. And this was the chance to afford one more view of it--even to +my own eyes. + +The section within this volume called Letters explains itself, though I +do not pretend to say that it justifies its own existence. It claims +nothing in its defence except the right of speech which I believe belongs +to everybody outside a Trappist monastery. The part I have ventured, for +shortness' sake, to call Life, may perhaps justify itself by the +emotional sincerity of the feelings to which the various papers included +under that head owe their origin. And as they relate to events of which +everyone has a date, they are in the nature of sign-posts pointing out +the direction my thoughts were compelled to take at the various cross- +roads. If anybody detects any sort of consistency in the choice, this +will be only proof positive that wisdom had nothing to do with it. +Whether right or wrong, instinct alone is invariable; a fact which only +adds a deeper shade to its inherent mystery. The appearance of +intellectuality these pieces may present at first sight is merely the +result of the arrangement of words. The logic that may be found there is +only the logic of the language. But I need not labour the point. There +will be plenty of people sagacious enough to perceive the absence of all +wisdom from these pages. But I believe sufficiently in human sympathies +to imagine that very few will question their sincerity. Whatever +delusions I may have suffered from I have had no delusions as to the +nature of the facts commented on here. I may have misjudged their +import: but that is the sort of error for which one may expect a certain +amount of toleration. + +The only paper of this collection which has never been published before +is the Note on the Polish Problem. It was written at the request of a +friend to be shown privately, and its "Protectorate" idea, sprung from a +strong sense of the critical nature of the situation, was shaped by the +actual circumstances of the time. The time was about a month before the +entrance of Roumania into the war, and though, honestly, I had seen +already the shadow of coming events I could not permit my misgivings to +enter into and destroy the structure of my plan. I still believe that +there was some sense in it. It may certainly be charged with the +appearance of lack of faith and it lays itself open to the throwing of +many stones; but my object was practical and I had to consider warily the +preconceived notions of the people to whom it was implicitly addressed, +and also their unjustifiable hopes. They were unjustifiable, but who was +to tell them that? I mean who was wise enough and convincing enough to +show them the inanity of their mental attitude? The whole atmosphere was +poisoned with visions that were not so much false as simply impossible. +They were also the result of vague and unconfessed fears, and that made +their strength. For myself, with a very definite dread in my heart, I +was careful not to allude to their character because I did not want the +Note to be thrown away unread. And then I had to remember that the +impossible has sometimes the trick of coming to pass to the confusion of +minds and often to the crushing of hearts. + +Of the other papers I have nothing special to say. They are what they +are, and I am by now too hardened a sinner to feel ashamed of +insignificant indiscretions. And as to their appearance in this form I +claim that indulgence to which all sinners against themselves are +entitled. + +J. C. +1920. + + + + +PART I--LETTERS + + +BOOKS--1905. + + +I. + + +"I have not read this author's books, and if I have read them I have +forgotten what they were about." + +These words are reported as having been uttered in our midst not a +hundred years ago, publicly, from the seat of justice, by a civic +magistrate. The words of our municipal rulers have a solemnity and +importance far above the words of other mortals, because our municipal +rulers more than any other variety of our governors and masters represent +the average wisdom, temperament, sense and virtue of the community. This +generalisation, it ought to be promptly said in the interests of eternal +justice (and recent friendship), does not apply to the United States of +America. There, if one may believe the long and helpless indignations of +their daily and weekly Press, the majority of municipal rulers appear to +be thieves of a particularly irrepressible sort. But this by the way. My +concern is with a statement issuing from the average temperament and the +average wisdom of a great and wealthy community, and uttered by a civic +magistrate obviously without fear and without reproach. + +I confess I am pleased with his temper, which is that of prudence. "I +have not read the books," he says, and immediately he adds, "and if I +have read them I have forgotten." This is excellent caution. And I like +his style: it is unartificial and bears the stamp of manly sincerity. As +a reported piece of prose this declaration is easy to read and not +difficult to believe. Many books have not been read; still more have +been forgotten. As a piece of civic oratory this declaration is +strikingly effective. Calculated to fall in with the bent of the popular +mind, so familiar with all forms of forgetfulness, it has also the power +to stir up a subtle emotion while it starts a train of thought--and what +greater force can be expected from human speech? But it is in +naturalness that this declaration is perfectly delightful, for there is +nothing more natural than for a grave City Father to forget what the +books he has read once--long ago--in his giddy youth maybe--were about. + +And the books in question are novels, or, at any rate, were written as +novels. I proceed thus cautiously (following my illustrious example) +because being without fear and desiring to remain as far as possible +without reproach, I confess at once that I have not read them. + +I have not; and of the million persons or more who are said to have read +them, I never met one yet with the talent of lucid exposition +sufficiently developed to give me a connected account of what they are +about. But they are books, part and parcel of humanity, and as such, in +their ever increasing, jostling multitude, they are worthy of regard, +admiration, and compassion. + +Especially of compassion. It has been said a long time ago that books +have their fate. They have, and it is very much like the destiny of man. +They share with us the great incertitude of ignominy or glory--of severe +justice and senseless persecution--of calumny and misunderstanding--the +shame of undeserved success. Of all the inanimate objects, of all men's +creations, books are the nearest to us, for they contain our very +thought, our ambitions, our indignations, our illusions, our fidelity to +truth, and our persistent leaning towards error. But most of all they +resemble us in their precarious hold on life. A bridge constructed +according to the rules of the art of bridge-building is certain of a +long, honourable and useful career. But a book as good in its way as the +bridge may perish obscurely on the very day of its birth. The art of +their creators is not sufficient to give them more than a moment of life. +Of the books born from the restlessness, the inspiration, and the vanity +of human minds, those that the Muses would love best lie more than all +others under the menace of an early death. Sometimes their defects will +save them. Sometimes a book fair to see may--to use a lofty +expression--have no individual soul. Obviously a book of that sort +cannot die. It can only crumble into dust. But the best of books +drawing sustenance from the sympathy and memory of men have lived on the +brink of destruction, for men's memories are short, and their sympathy +is, we must admit, a very fluctuating, unprincipled emotion. + +No secret of eternal life for our books can be found amongst the formulas +of art, any more than for our bodies in a prescribed combination of +drugs. This is not because some books are not worthy of enduring life, +but because the formulas of art are dependent on things variable, +unstable and untrustworthy; on human sympathies, on prejudices, on likes +and dislikes, on the sense of virtue and the sense of propriety, on +beliefs and theories that, indestructible in themselves, always change +their form--often in the lifetime of one fleeting generation. + + +II. + + +Of all books, novels, which the Muses should love, make a serious claim +on our compassion. The art of the novelist is simple. At the same time +it is the most elusive of all creative arts, the most liable to be +obscured by the scruples of its servants and votaries, the one +pre-eminently destined to bring trouble to the mind and the heart of the +artist. After all, the creation of a world is not a small undertaking +except perhaps to the divinely gifted. In truth every novelist must +begin by creating for himself a world, great or little, in which he can +honestly believe. This world cannot be made otherwise than in his own +image: it is fated to remain individual and a little mysterious, and yet +it must resemble something already familiar to the experience, the +thoughts and the sensations of his readers. At the heart of fiction, +even the least worthy of the name, some sort of truth can be found--if +only the truth of a childish theatrical ardour in the game of life, as in +the novels of Dumas the father. But the fair truth of human delicacy can +be found in Mr. Henry James's novels; and the comical, appalling truth of +human rapacity let loose amongst the spoils of existence lives in the +monstrous world created by Balzac. The pursuit of happiness by means +lawful and unlawful, through resignation or revolt, by the clever +manipulation of conventions or by solemn hanging on to the skirts of the +latest scientific theory, is the only theme that can be legitimately +developed by the novelist who is the chronicler of the adventures of +mankind amongst the dangers of the kingdom of the earth. And the kingdom +of this earth itself, the ground upon which his individualities stand, +stumble, or die, must enter into his scheme of faithful record. To +encompass all this in one harmonious conception is a great feat; and even +to attempt it deliberately with serious intention, not from the senseless +prompting of an ignorant heart, is an honourable ambition. For it +requires some courage to step in calmly where fools may be eager to rush. +As a distinguished and successful French novelist once observed of +fiction, "C'est un art _trop_ difficile." + +It is natural that the novelist should doubt his ability to cope with his +task. He imagines it more gigantic than it is. And yet literary +creation being only one of the legitimate forms of human activity has no +value but on the condition of not excluding the fullest recognition of +all the more distinct forms of action. This condition is sometimes +forgotten by the man of letters, who often, especially in his youth, is +inclined to lay a claim of exclusive superiority for his own amongst all +the other tasks of the human mind. The mass of verse and prose may +glimmer here and there with the glow of a divine spark, but in the sum of +human effort it has no special importance. There is no justificative +formula for its existence any more than for any other artistic +achievement. With the rest of them it is destined to be forgotten, +without, perhaps, leaving the faintest trace. Where a novelist has an +advantage over the workers in other fields of thought is in his privilege +of freedom--the freedom of expression and the freedom of confessing his +innermost beliefs--which should console him for the hard slavery of the +pen. + + +III. + + +Liberty of imagination should be the most precious possession of a +novelist. To try voluntarily to discover the fettering dogmas of some +romantic, realistic, or naturalistic creed in the free work of its own +inspiration, is a trick worthy of human perverseness which, after +inventing an absurdity, endeavours to find for it a pedigree of +distinguished ancestors. It is a weakness of inferior minds when it is +not the cunning device of those who, uncertain of their talent, would +seek to add lustre to it by the authority of a school. Such, for +instance, are the high priests who have proclaimed Stendhal for a prophet +of Naturalism. But Stendhal himself would have accepted no limitation of +his freedom. Stendhal's mind was of the first order. His spirit above +must be raging with a peculiarly Stendhalesque scorn and indignation. For +the truth is that more than one kind of intellectual cowardice hides +behind the literary formulas. And Stendhal was pre-eminently courageous. +He wrote his two great novels, which so few people have read, in a spirit +of fearless liberty. + +It must not be supposed that I claim for the artist in fiction the +freedom of moral Nihilism. I would require from him many acts of faith +of which the first would be the cherishing of an undying hope; and hope, +it will not be contested, implies all the piety of effort and +renunciation. It is the God-sent form of trust in the magic force and +inspiration belonging to the life of this earth. We are inclined to +forget that the way of excellence is in the intellectual, as +distinguished from emotional, humility. What one feels so hopelessly +barren in declared pessimism is just its arrogance. It seems as if the +discovery made by many men at various times that there is much evil in +the world were a source of proud and unholy joy unto some of the modern +writers. That frame of mind is not the proper one in which to approach +seriously the art of fiction. It gives an author--goodness only knows +why--an elated sense of his own superiority. And there is nothing more +dangerous than such an elation to that absolute loyalty towards his +feelings and sensations an author should keep hold of in his most exalted +moments of creation. + +To be hopeful in an artistic sense it is not necessary to think that the +world is good. It is enough to believe that there is no impossibility of +its being made so. If the flight of imaginative thought may be allowed +to rise superior to many moralities current amongst mankind, a novelist +who would think himself of a superior essence to other men would miss the +first condition of his calling. To have the gift of words is no such +great matter. A man furnished with a long-range weapon does not become a +hunter or a warrior by the mere possession of a fire-arm; many other +qualities of character and temperament are necessary to make him either +one or the other. Of him from whose armoury of phrases one in a hundred +thousand may perhaps hit the far-distant and elusive mark of art I would +ask that in his dealings with mankind he should be capable of giving a +tender recognition to their obscure virtues. I would not have him +impatient with their small failings and scornful of their errors. I +would not have him expect too much gratitude from that humanity whose +fate, as illustrated in individuals, it is open to him to depict as +ridiculous or terrible. I would wish him to look with a large +forgiveness at men's ideas and prejudices, which are by no means the +outcome of malevolence, but depend on their education, their social +status, even their professions. The good artist should expect no +recognition of his toil and no admiration of his genius, because his toil +can with difficulty be appraised and his genius cannot possibly mean +anything to the illiterate who, even from the dreadful wisdom of their +evoked dead, have, so far, culled nothing but inanities and platitudes. I +would wish him to enlarge his sympathies by patient and loving +observation while he grows in mental power. It is in the impartial +practice of life, if anywhere, that the promise of perfection for his art +can be found, rather than in the absurd formulas trying to prescribe this +or that particular method of technique or conception. Let him mature the +strength of his imagination amongst the things of this earth, which it is +his business to cherish and know, and refrain from calling down his +inspiration ready-made from some heaven of perfections of which he knows +nothing. And I would not grudge him the proud illusion that will come +sometimes to a writer: the illusion that his achievement has almost +equalled the greatness of his dream. For what else could give him the +serenity and the force to hug to his breast as a thing delightful and +human, the virtue, the rectitude and sagacity of his own City, declaring +with simple eloquence through the mouth of a Conscript Father: "I have +not read this author's books, and if I have read them I have forgotten +. . ." + + + +HENRY JAMES--AN APPRECIATION--1905 + + +The critical faculty hesitates before the magnitude of Mr. Henry James's +work. His books stand on my shelves in a place whose accessibility +proclaims the habit of frequent communion. But not all his books. There +is no collected edition to date, such as some of "our masters" have been +provided with; no neat rows of volumes in buckram or half calf, putting +forth a hasty claim to completeness, and conveying to my mind a hint of +finality, of a surrender to fate of that field in which all these +victories have been won. Nothing of the sort has been done for Mr. Henry +James's victories in England. + +In a world such as ours, so painful with all sorts of wonders, one would +not exhaust oneself in barren marvelling over mere bindings, had not the +fact, or rather the absence of the material fact, prominent in the case +of other men whose writing counts, (for good or evil)--had it not been, I +say, expressive of a direct truth spiritual and intellectual; an accident +of--I suppose--the publishing business acquiring a symbolic meaning from +its negative nature. Because, emphatically, in the body of Mr. Henry +James's work there is no suggestion of finality, nowhere a hint of +surrender, or even of probability of surrender, to his own victorious +achievement in that field where he is a master. Happily, he will never +be able to claim completeness; and, were he to confess to it in a moment +of self-ignorance, he would not be believed by the very minds for whom +such a confession naturally would be meant. It is impossible to think of +Mr. Henry James becoming "complete" otherwise than by the brutality of +our common fate whose finality is meaningless--in the sense of its logic +being of a material order, the logic of a falling stone. + +I do not know into what brand of ink Mr. Henry James dips his pen; +indeed, I heard that of late he had been dictating; but I know that his +mind is steeped in the waters flowing from the fountain of intellectual +youth. The thing--a privilege--a miracle--what you will--is not quite +hidden from the meanest of us who run as we read. To those who have the +grace to stay their feet it is manifest. After some twenty years of +attentive acquaintance with Mr. Henry James's work, it grows into +absolute conviction which, all personal feeling apart, brings a sense of +happiness into one's artistic existence. If gratitude, as someone +defined it, is a lively sense of favours to come, it becomes very easy to +be grateful to the author of The Ambassadors--to name the latest of his +works. The favours are sure to come; the spring of that benevolence will +never run dry. The stream of inspiration flows brimful in a +predetermined direction, unaffected by the periods of drought, untroubled +in its clearness by the storms of the land of letters, without languor or +violence in its force, never running back upon itself, opening new +visions at every turn of its course through that richly inhabited country +its fertility has created for our delectation, for our judgment, for our +exploring. It is, in fact, a magic spring. + +With this phrase the metaphor of the perennial spring, of the +inextinguishable youth, of running waters, as applied to Mr. Henry +James's inspiration, may be dropped. In its volume and force the body of +his work may be compared rather to a majestic river. All creative art is +magic, is evocation of the unseen in forms persuasive, enlightening, +familiar and surprising, for the edification of mankind, pinned down by +the conditions of its existence to the earnest consideration of the most +insignificant tides of reality. + +Action in its essence, the creative art of a writer of fiction may be +compared to rescue work carried out in darkness against cross gusts of +wind swaying the action of a great multitude. It is rescue work, this +snatching of vanishing phases of turbulence, disguised in fair words, out +of the native obscurity into a light where the struggling forms may be +seen, seized upon, endowed with the only possible form of permanence in +this world of relative values--the permanence of memory. And the +multitude feels it obscurely too; since the demand of the individual to +the artist is, in effect, the cry, "Take me out of myself!" meaning +really, out of my perishable activity into the light of imperishable +consciousness. But everything is relative, and the light of +consciousness is only enduring, merely the most enduring of the things of +this earth, imperishable only as against the short-lived work of our +industrious hands. + +When the last aqueduct shall have crumbled to pieces, the last airship +fallen to the ground, the last blade of grass have died upon a dying +earth, man, indomitable by his training in resistance to misery and pain, +shall set this undiminished light of his eyes against the feeble glow of +the sun. The artistic faculty, of which each of us has a minute grain, +may find its voice in some individual of that last group, gifted with a +power of expression and courageous enough to interpret the ultimate +experience of mankind in terms of his temperament, in terms of art. I do +not mean to say that he would attempt to beguile the last moments of +humanity by an ingenious tale. It would be too much to expect--from +humanity. I doubt the heroism of the hearers. As to the heroism of the +artist, no doubt is necessary. There would be on his part no heroism. +The artist in his calling of interpreter creates (the clearest form of +demonstration) because he must. He is so much of a voice that, for him, +silence is like death; and the postulate was, that there is a group +alive, clustered on his threshold to watch the last flicker of light on a +black sky, to hear the last word uttered in the stilled workshop of the +earth. It is safe to affirm that, if anybody, it will be the imaginative +man who would be moved to speak on the eve of that day without +to-morrow--whether in austere exhortation or in a phrase of sardonic +comment, who can guess? + +For my own part, from a short and cursory acquaintance with my kind, I am +inclined to think that the last utterance will formulate, strange as it +may appear, some hope now to us utterly inconceivable. For mankind is +delightful in its pride, its assurance, and its indomitable tenacity. It +will sleep on the battlefield among its own dead, in the manner of an +army having won a barren victory. It will not know when it is beaten. +And perhaps it is right in that quality. The victories are not, perhaps, +so barren as it may appear from a purely strategical, utilitarian point +of view. Mr. Henry James seems to hold that belief. Nobody has rendered +better, perhaps, the tenacity of temper, or known how to drape the robe +of spiritual honour about the drooping form of a victor in a barren +strife. And the honour is always well won; for the struggles Mr. Henry +James chronicles with such subtle and direct insight are, though only +personal contests, desperate in their silence, none the less heroic (in +the modern sense) for the absence of shouted watchwords, clash of arms +and sound of trumpets. Those are adventures in which only choice souls +are ever involved. And Mr. Henry James records them with a fearless and +insistent fidelity to the _peripeties_ of the contest, and the feelings +of the combatants. + +The fiercest excitements of a romance _de cape et d'epee_, the romance of +yard-arm and boarding pike so dear to youth, whose knowledge of action +(as of other things) is imperfect and limited, are matched, for the +quickening of our maturer years, by the tasks set, by the difficulties +presented, to the sense of truth, of necessity--before all, of conduct--of +Mr. Henry James's men and women. His mankind is delightful. It is +delightful in its tenacity; it refuses to own itself beaten; it will +sleep on the battlefield. These warlike images come by themselves under +the pen; since from the duality of man's nature and the competition of +individuals, the life-history of the earth must in the last instance be a +history of a really very relentless warfare. Neither his fellows, nor +his gods, nor his passions will leave a man alone. In virtue of these +allies and enemies, he holds his precarious dominion, he possesses his +fleeting significance; and it is this relation in all its manifestations, +great and little, superficial or profound, and this relation alone, that +is commented upon, interpreted, demonstrated by the art of the novelist +in the only possible way in which the task can be performed: by the +independent creation of circumstance and character, achieved against all +the difficulties of expression, in an imaginative effort finding its +inspiration from the reality of forms and sensations. That a sacrifice +must be made, that something has to be given up, is the truth engraved in +the innermost recesses of the fair temple built for our edification by +the masters of fiction. There is no other secret behind the curtain. All +adventure, all love, every success is resumed in the supreme energy of an +act of renunciation. It is the uttermost limit of our power; it is the +most potent and effective force at our disposal on which rest the labours +of a solitary man in his study, the rock on which have been built +commonwealths whose might casts a dwarfing shadow upon two oceans. Like +a natural force which is obscured as much as illuminated by the +multiplicity of phenomena, the power of renunciation is obscured by the +mass of weaknesses, vacillations, secondary motives and false steps and +compromises which make up the sum of our activity. But no man or woman +worthy of the name can pretend to anything more, to anything greater. And +Mr. Henry James's men and women are worthy of the name, within the limits +his art, so clear, so sure of itself, has drawn round their activities. +He would be the last to claim for them Titanic proportions. The earth +itself has grown smaller in the course of ages. But in every sphere of +human perplexities and emotions, there are more greatnesses than one--not +counting here the greatness of the artist himself. Wherever he stands, +at the beginning or the end of things, a man has to sacrifice his gods to +his passions, or his passions to his gods. That is the problem, great +enough, in all truth, if approached in the spirit of sincerity and +knowledge. + +In one of his critical studies, published some fifteen years ago, Mr. +Henry James claims for the novelist the standing of the historian as the +only adequate one, as for himself and before his audience. I think that +the claim cannot be contested, and that the position is unassailable. +Fiction is history, human history, or it is nothing. But it is also more +than that; it stands on firmer ground, being based on the reality of +forms and the observation of social phenomena, whereas history is based +on documents, and the reading of print and handwriting--on second-hand +impression. Thus fiction is nearer truth. But let that pass. A +historian may be an artist too, and a novelist is a historian, the +preserver, the keeper, the expounder, of human experience. As is meet +for a man of his descent and tradition, Mr. Henry James is the historian +of fine consciences. + +Of course, this is a general statement; but I don't think its truth will +be, or can be questioned. Its fault is that it leaves so much out; and, +besides, Mr. Henry James is much too considerable to be put into the +nutshell of a phrase. The fact remains that he has made his choice, and +that his choice is justified up to the hilt by the success of his art. He +has taken for himself the greater part. The range of a fine conscience +covers more good and evil than the range of conscience which may be +called, roughly, not fine; a conscience, less troubled by the nice +discrimination of shades of conduct. A fine conscience is more concerned +with essentials; its triumphs are more perfect, if less profitable, in a +worldly sense. There is, in short, more truth in its working for a +historian to detect and to show. It is a thing of infinite complication +and suggestion. None of these escapes the art of Mr. Henry James. He +has mastered the country, his domain, not wild indeed, but full of +romantic glimpses, of deep shadows and sunny places. There are no +secrets left within his range. He has disclosed them as they should be +disclosed--that is, beautifully. And, indeed, ugliness has but little +place in this world of his creation. Yet, it is always felt in the +truthfulness of his art; it is there, it surrounds the scene, it presses +close upon it. It is made visible, tangible, in the struggles, in the +contacts of the fine consciences, in their perplexities, in the sophism +of their mistakes. For a fine conscience is naturally a virtuous one. +What is natural about it is just its fineness, an abiding sense of the +intangible, ever-present, right. It is most visible in their ultimate +triumph, in their emergence from miracle, through an energetic act of +renunciation. Energetic, not violent: the distinction is wide, enormous, +like that between substance and shadow. + +Through it all Mr. Henry James keeps a firm hold of the substance, of +what is worth having, of what is worth holding. The contrary opinion has +been, if not absolutely affirmed, then at least implied, with some +frequency. To most of us, living willingly in a sort of intellectual +moonlight, in the faintly reflected light of truth, the shadows so firmly +renounced by Mr. Henry James's men and women, stand out endowed with +extraordinary value, with a value so extraordinary that their rejection +offends, by its uncalled-for scrupulousness, those business-like +instincts which a careful Providence has implanted in our breasts. And, +apart from that just cause of discontent, it is obvious that a solution +by rejection must always present a certain lack of finality, especially +startling when contrasted with the usual methods of solution by rewards +and punishments, by crowned love, by fortune, by a broken leg or a sudden +death. Why the reading public which, as a body, has never laid upon a +story-teller the command to be an artist, should demand from him this +sham of Divine Omnipotence, is utterly incomprehensible. But so it is; +and these solutions are legitimate inasmuch as they satisfy the desire +for finality, for which our hearts yearn with a longing greater than the +longing for the loaves and fishes of this earth. Perhaps the only true +desire of mankind, coming thus to light in its hours of leisure, is to be +set at rest. One is never set at rest by Mr. Henry James's novels. His +books end as an episode in life ends. You remain with the sense of the +life still going on; and even the subtle presence of the dead is felt in +that silence that comes upon the artist-creation when the last word has +been read. It is eminently satisfying, but it is not final. Mr. Henry +James, great artist and faithful historian, never attempts the +impossible. + + + +ALPHONSE DAUDET--1898 + + +It is sweet to talk decorously of the dead who are part of our past, our +indisputable possession. One must admit regretfully that to-day is but a +scramble, that to-morrow may never come; it is only the precious +yesterday that cannot be taken away from us. A gift from the dead, great +and little, it makes life supportable, it almost makes one believe in a +benevolent scheme of creation. And some kind of belief is very +necessary. But the real knowledge of matters infinitely more profound +than any conceivable scheme of creation is with the dead alone. That is +why our talk about them should be as decorous as their silence. Their +generosity and their discretion deserve nothing less at our hands; and +they, who belong already to the unchangeable, would probably disdain to +claim more than this from a mankind that changes its loves and its hates +about every twenty-five years--at the coming of every new and wiser +generation. + +One of the most generous of the dead is Daudet, who, with a prodigality +approaching magnificence, gave himself up to us without reserve in his +work, with all his qualities and all his faults. Neither his qualities +nor his faults were great, though they were by no means imperceptible. It +is only his generosity that is out of the common. What strikes one most +in his work is the disinterestedness of the toiler. With more talent +than many bigger men, he did not preach about himself, he did not attempt +to persuade mankind into a belief of his own greatness. He never posed +as a scientist or as a seer, not even as a prophet; and he neglected his +interests to the point of never propounding a theory for the purpose of +giving a tremendous significance to his art, alone of all things, in a +world that, by some strange oversight, has not been supplied with an +obvious meaning. Neither did he affect a passive attitude before the +spectacle of life, an attitude which in gods--and in a rare mortal here +and there--may appear godlike, but assumed by some men, causes one, very +unwillingly, to think of the melancholy quietude of an ape. He was not +the wearisome expounder of this or that theory, here to-day and spurned +to-morrow. He was not a great artist, he was not an artist at all, if +you like--but he was Alphonse Daudet, a man as naively clear, honest, and +vibrating as the sunshine of his native land; that regrettably +undiscriminating sunshine which matures grapes and pumpkins alike, and +cannot, of course, obtain the commendation of the very select who look at +life from under a parasol. + +Naturally, being a man from the South, he had a rather outspoken belief +in himself, but his small distinction, worth many a greater, was in not +being in bondage to some vanishing creed. He was a worker who could not +compel the admiration of the few, but who deserved the affection of the +many; and he may be spoken of with tenderness and regret, for he is not +immortal--he is only dead. During his life the simple man whose business +it ought to have been to climb, in the name of Art, some elevation or +other, was content to remain below, on the plain, amongst his creations, +and take an eager part in those disasters, weaknesses, and joys which are +tragic enough in their droll way, but are by no means so momentous and +profound as some writers--probably for the sake of Art--would like to +make us believe. There is, when one thinks of it, a considerable want of +candour in the august view of life. Without doubt a cautious reticence +on the subject, or even a delicately false suggestion thrown out in that +direction is, in a way, praiseworthy, since it helps to uphold the +dignity of man--a matter of great importance, as anyone can see; still +one cannot help feeling that a certain amount of sincerity would not be +wholly blamable. To state, then, with studied moderation a belief that +in unfortunate moments of lucidity is irresistibly borne in upon most of +us--the blind agitation caused mostly by hunger and complicated by love +and ferocity does not deserve either by its beauty, or its morality, or +its possible results, the artistic fuss made over it. It may be +consoling--for human folly is very _bizarre_--but it is scarcely honest +to shout at those who struggle drowning in an insignificant pool: You are +indeed admirable and great to be the victims of such a profound, of such +a terrible ocean! + +And Daudet was honest; perhaps because he knew no better--but he was very +honest. If he saw only the surface of things it is for the reason that +most things have nothing but a surface. He did not pretend--perhaps +because he did not know how--he did not pretend to see any depths in a +life that is only a film of unsteady appearances stretched over regions +deep indeed, but which have nothing to do with the half-truths, +half-thoughts, and whole illusions of existence. The road to these +distant regions does not lie through the domain of Art or the domain of +Science where well-known voices quarrel noisily in a misty emptiness; it +is a path of toilsome silence upon which travel men simple and unknown, +with closed lips, or, maybe, whispering their pain softly--only to +themselves. + +But Daudet did not whisper; he spoke loudly, with animation, with a clear +felicity of tone--as a bird sings. He saw life around him with extreme +clearness, and he felt it as it is--thinner than air and more elusive +than a flash of lightning. He hastened to offer it his compassion, his +indignation, his wonder, his sympathy, without giving a moment of thought +to the momentous issues that are supposed to lurk in the logic of such +sentiments. He tolerated the little foibles, the small ruffianisms, the +grave mistakes; the only thing he distinctly would not forgive was +hardness of heart. This unpractical attitude would have been fatal to a +better man, but his readers have forgiven him. Withal he is chivalrous +to exiled queens and deformed sempstresses, he is pityingly tender to +broken-down actors, to ruined gentlemen, to stupid Academicians; he is +glad of the joys of the commonplace people in a commonplace way--and he +never makes a secret of all this. No, the man was not an artist. What +if his creations are illumined by the sunshine of his temperament so +vividly that they stand before us infinitely more real than the dingy +illusions surrounding our everyday existence? The misguided man is for +ever pottering amongst them, lifting up his voice, dotting his i's in the +wrong places. He takes Tartarin by the arm, he does not conceal his +interest in the Nabob's cheques, his sympathy for an honest Academician +_plus bete que nature_, his hate for an architect _plus mauvais que la +gale_; he is in the thick of it all. He feels with the Duc de Mora and +with Felicia Ruys--and he lets you see it. He does not sit on a pedestal +in the hieratic and imbecile pose of some cheap god whose greatness +consists in being too stupid to care. He cares immensely for his Nabobs, +his kings, his book-keepers, his Colettes, and his Saphos. He vibrates +together with his universe, and with lamentable simplicity follows M. de +Montpavon on that last walk along the Boulevards. + +"Monsieur de Montpavon marche a la mort," and the creator of that unlucky +_gentilhomme_ follows with stealthy footsteps, with wide eyes, with an +impressively pointing finger. And who wouldn't look? But it is hard; it +is sometimes very hard to forgive him the dotted i's, the pointing +finger, this making plain of obvious mysteries. "Monsieur de Montpavon +marche a la mort," and presently, on the crowded pavement, takes off his +hat with punctilious courtesy to the doctor's wife, who, elegant and +unhappy, is bound on the same pilgrimage. This is too much! We feel we +cannot forgive him such meetings, the constant whisper of his presence. +We feel we cannot, till suddenly the very _naivete_ of it all touches us +with the revealed suggestion of a truth. Then we see that the man is not +false; all this is done in transparent good faith. The man is not +melodramatic; he is only picturesque. He may not be an artist, but he +comes as near the truth as some of the greatest. His creations are seen; +you can look into their very eyes, and these are as thoughtless as the +eyes of any wise generation that has in its hands the fame of writers. +Yes, they are _seen_, and the man who is not an artist is seen also +commiserating, indignant, joyous, human and alive in their very midst. +Inevitably they _marchent a la mort_--and they are very near the truth of +our common destiny: their fate is poignant, it is intensely interesting, +and of not the slightest consequence. + + + +GUY DE MAUPASSANT--1904 {1} + + +To introduce Maupassant to English readers with apologetic explanations +as though his art were recondite and the tendency of his work immoral +would be a gratuitous impertinence. + +Maupassant's conception of his art is such as one would expect from a +practical and resolute mind; but in the consummate simplicity of his +technique it ceases to be perceptible. This is one of its greatest +qualities, and like all the great virtues it is based primarily on self- +denial. + +To pronounce a judgment upon the general tendency of an author is a +difficult task. One could not depend upon reason alone, nor yet trust +solely to one's emotions. Used together, they would in many cases +traverse each other, because emotions have their own unanswerable logic. +Our capacity for emotion is limited, and the field of our intelligence is +restricted. Responsiveness to every feeling, combined with the +penetration of every intellectual subterfuge, would end, not in judgment, +but in universal absolution. _Tout comprendre c'est tout pardonner_. And +in this benevolent neutrality towards the warring errors of human nature +all light would go out from art and from life. + +We are at liberty then to quarrel with Maupassant's attitude towards our +world in which, like the rest of us, he has that share which his senses +are able to give him. But we need not quarrel with him violently. If +our feelings (which are tender) happen to be hurt because his talent is +not exercised for the praise and consolation of mankind, our intelligence +(which is great) should let us see that he is a very splendid sinner, +like all those who in this valley of compromises err by over-devotion to +the truth that is in them. His determinism, barren of praise, blame and +consolation, has all the merit of his conscientious art. The worth of +every conviction consists precisely in the steadfastness with which it is +held. + +Except for his philosophy, which in the case of so consummate an artist +does not matter (unless to the solemn and naive mind), Maupassant of all +writers of fiction demands least forgiveness from his readers. He does +not require forgiveness because he is never dull. + +The interest of a reader in a work of imagination is either ethical or +that of simple curiosity. Both are perfectly legitimate, since there is +both a moral and an excitement to be found in a faithful rendering of +life. And in Maupassant's work there is the interest of curiosity and +the moral of a point of view consistently preserved and never obtruded +for the end of personal gratification. The spectacle of this immense +talent served by exceptional faculties and triumphing over the most +thankless subjects by an unswerving singleness of purpose is in itself an +admirable lesson in the power of artistic honesty, one may say of +artistic virtue. The inherent greatness of the man consists in this, +that he will let none of the fascinations that beset a writer working in +loneliness turn him away from the straight path, from the vouchsafed +vision of excellence. He will not be led into perdition by the +seductions of sentiment, of eloquence, of humour, of pathos; of all that +splendid pageant of faults that pass between the writer and his probity +on the blank sheet of paper, like the glittering cortege of deadly sins +before the austere anchorite in the desert air of Thebaide. This is not +to say that Maupassant's austerity has never faltered; but the fact +remains that no tempting demon has ever succeeded in hurling him down +from his high, if narrow, pedestal. + +It is the austerity of his talent, of course, that is in question. Let +the discriminating reader, who at times may well spare a moment or two to +the consideration and enjoyment of artistic excellence, be asked to +reflect a little upon the texture of two stories included in this volume: +"A Piece of String," and "A Sale." How many openings the last offers for +the gratuitous display of the author's wit or clever buffoonery, the +first for an unmeasured display of sentiment! And both sentiment and +buffoonery could have been made very good too, in a way accessible to the +meanest intelligence, at the cost of truth and honesty. Here it is where +Maupassant's austerity comes in. He refrains from setting his cleverness +against the eloquence of the facts. There is humour and pathos in these +stories; but such is the greatness of his talent, the refinement of his +artistic conscience, that all his high qualities appear inherent in the +very things of which he speaks, as if they had been altogether +independent of his presentation. Facts, and again facts are his unique +concern. That is why he is not always properly understood. His facts +are so perfectly rendered that, like the actualities of life itself, they +demand from the reader the faculty of observation which is rare, the +power of appreciation which is generally wanting in most of us who are +guided mainly by empty phrases requiring no effort, demanding from us no +qualities except a vague susceptibility to emotion. Nobody has ever +gained the vast applause of a crowd by the simple and clear exposition of +vital facts. Words alone strung upon a convention have fascinated us as +worthless glass beads strung on a thread have charmed at all times our +brothers the unsophisticated savages of the islands. Now, Maupassant, of +whom it has been said that he is the master of the _mot juste_, has never +been a dealer in words. His wares have been, not glass beads, but +polished gems; not the most rare and precious, perhaps, but of the very +first water of their kind. + +That he took trouble with his gems, taking them up in the rough and +polishing each facet patiently, the publication of the two posthumous +volumes of short stories proves abundantly. I think it proves also the +assertion made here that he was by no means a dealer in words. On +looking at the first feeble drafts from which so many perfect stories +have been fashioned, one discovers that what has been matured, improved, +brought to perfection by unwearied endeavour is not the diction of the +tale, but the vision of its true shape and detail. Those first attempts +are not faltering or uncertain in expression. It is the conception which +is at fault. The subjects have not yet been adequately seen. His +proceeding was not to group expressive words, that mean nothing, around +misty and mysterious shapes dear to muddled intellects and belonging +neither to earth nor to heaven. His vision by a more scrupulous, +prolonged and devoted attention to the aspects of the visible world +discovered at last the right words as if miraculously impressed for him +upon the face of things and events. This was the particular shape taken +by his inspiration; it came to him directly, honestly in the light of his +day, not on the tortuous, dark roads of meditation. His realities came +to him from a genuine source, from this universe of vain appearances +wherein we men have found everything to make us proud, sorry, exalted, +and humble. + +Maupassant's renown is universal, but his popularity is restricted. It +is not difficult to perceive why. Maupassant is an intensely national +writer. He is so intensely national in his logic, in his clearness, in +his aesthetic and moral conceptions, that he has been accepted by his +countrymen without having had to pay the tribute of flattery either to +the nation as a whole, or to any class, sphere or division of the nation. +The truth of his art tells with an irresistible force; and he stands +excused from the duty of patriotic posturing. He is a Frenchman of +Frenchmen beyond question or cavil, and with that he is simple enough to +be universally comprehensible. What is wanting to his universal success +is the mediocrity of an obvious and appealing tenderness. He neglects to +qualify his truth with the drop of facile sweetness; he forgets to strew +paper roses over the tombs. The disregard of these common decencies lays +him open to the charges of cruelty, cynicism, hardness. And yet it can +be safely affirmed that this man wrote from the fulness of a +compassionate heart. He is merciless and yet gentle with his mankind; he +does not rail at their prudent fears and their small artifices; he does +not despise their labours. It seems to me that he looks with an eye of +profound pity upon their troubles, deceptions and misery. But he looks +at them all. He sees--and does not turn away his head. As a matter of +fact he is courageous. + +Courage and justice are not popular virtues. The practice of strict +justice is shocking to the multitude who always (perhaps from an obscure +sense of guilt) attach to it the meaning of mercy. In the majority of +us, who want to be left alone with our illusions, courage inspires a +vague alarm. This is what is felt about Maupassant. His qualities, to +use the charming and popular phrase, are not lovable. Courage being a +force will not masquerade in the robes of affected delicacy and +restraint. But if his courage is not of a chivalrous stamp, it cannot be +denied that it is never brutal for the sake of effect. The writer of +these few reflections, inspired by a long and intimate acquaintance with +the work of the man, has been struck by the appreciation of Maupassant +manifested by many women gifted with tenderness and intelligence. Their +more delicate and audacious souls are good judges of courage. Their +finer penetration has discovered his genuine masculinity without display, +his virility without a pose. They have discerned in his faithful +dealings with the world that enterprising and fearless temperament, poor +in ideas but rich in power, which appeals most to the feminine mind. + +It cannot be denied that he thinks very little. In him extreme energy of +perception achieves great results, as in men of action the energy of +force and desire. His view of intellectual problems is perhaps more +simple than their nature warrants; still a man who has written _Yvette_ +cannot be accused of want of subtlety. But one cannot insist enough upon +this, that his subtlety, his humour, his grimness, though no doubt they +are his own, are never presented otherwise but as belonging to our life, +as found in nature, whose beauties and cruelties alike breathe the spirit +of serene unconsciousness. + +Maupassant's philosophy of life is more temperamental than rational. He +expects nothing from gods or men. He trusts his senses for information +and his instinct for deductions. It may seem that he has made but little +use of his mind. But let me be clearly understood. His sensibility is +really very great; and it is impossible to be sensible, unless one thinks +vividly, unless one thinks correctly, starting from intelligible premises +to an unsophisticated conclusion. + +This is literary honesty. It may be remarked that it does not differ +very greatly from the ideal honesty of the respectable majority, from the +honesty of law-givers, of warriors, of kings, of bricklayers, of all +those who express their fundamental sentiment in the ordinary course of +their activities, by the work of their hands. + +The work of Maupassant's hands is honest. He thinks sufficiently to +concrete his fearless conclusions in illuminative instances. He renders +them with that exact knowledge of the means and that absolute devotion to +the aim of creating a true effect--which is art. He is the most +accomplished of narrators. + +It is evident that Maupassant looked upon his mankind in another spirit +than those writers who make haste to submerge the difficulties of our +holding-place in the universe under a flood of false and sentimental +assumptions. Maupassant was a true and dutiful lover of our earth. He +says himself in one of his descriptive passages: "Nous autres que seduit +la terre . . ." It was true. The earth had for him a compelling charm. +He looks upon her august and furrowed face with the fierce insight of +real passion. His is the power of detecting the one immutable quality +that matters in the changing aspects of nature and under the +ever-shifting surface of life. To say that he could not embrace in his +glance all its magnificence and all its misery is only to say that he was +human. He lays claim to nothing that his matchless vision has not made +his own. This creative artist has the true imagination; he never +condescends to invent anything; he sets up no empty pretences. And he +stoops to no littleness in his art--least of all to the miserable vanity +of a catching phrase. + + + +ANATOLE FRANCE--1904 + + +I.--"CRAINQUEBILLE" + + +The latest volume of M. Anatole France purports, by the declaration of +its title-page, to contain several profitable narratives. The story of +Crainquebille's encounter with human justice stands at the head of them; +a tale of a well-bestowed charity closes the book with the touch of +playful irony characteristic of the writer on whom the most distinguished +amongst his literary countrymen have conferred the rank of Prince of +Prose. + +Never has a dignity been better borne. M. Anatole France is a good +prince. He knows nothing of tyranny but much of compassion. The +detachment of his mind from common errors and current superstitions +befits the exalted rank he holds in the Commonwealth of Literature. It +is just to suppose that the clamour of the tribes in the forum had little +to do with his elevation. Their elect are of another stamp. They are +such as their need of precipitate action requires. He is the Elect of +the Senate--the Senate of Letters--whose Conscript Fathers have +recognised him as _primus inter pares_; a post of pure honour and of no +privilege. + +It is a good choice. First, because it is just, and next, because it is +safe. The dignity will suffer no diminution in M. Anatole France's +hands. He is worthy of a great tradition, learned in the lessons of the +past, concerned with the present, and as earnest as to the future as a +good prince should be in his public action. It is a Republican dignity. +And M. Anatole France, with his sceptical insight into an forms of +government, is a good Republican. He is indulgent to the weaknesses of +the people, and perceives that political institutions, whether contrived +by the wisdom of the few or the ignorance of the many, are incapable of +securing the happiness of mankind. He perceives this truth in the +serenity of his soul and in the elevation of his mind. He expresses his +convictions with measure, restraint and harmony, which are indeed +princely qualities. He is a great analyst of illusions. He searches and +probes their innermost recesses as if they were realities made of an +eternal substance. And therein consists his humanity; this is the +expression of his profound and unalterable compassion. He will flatter +no tribe no section in the forum or in the market-place. His lucid +thought is not beguiled into false pity or into the common weakness of +affection. He feels that men born in ignorance as in the house of an +enemy, and condemned to struggle with error and passions through endless +centuries, should be spared the supreme cruelty of a hope for ever +deferred. He knows that our best hopes are irrealisable; that it is the +almost incredible misfortune of mankind, but also its highest privilege, +to aspire towards the impossible; that men have never failed to defeat +their highest aims by the very strength of their humanity which can +conceive the most gigantic tasks but leaves them disarmed before their +irremediable littleness. He knows this well because he is an artist and +a master; but he knows, too, that only in the continuity of effort there +is a refuge from despair for minds less clear-seeing and philosophic than +his own. Therefore he wishes us to believe and to hope, preserving in +our activity the consoling illusion of power and intelligent purpose. He +is a good and politic prince. + +"The majesty of justice is contained entire in each sentence pronounced +by the judge in the name of the sovereign people. Jerome Crainquebille, +hawker of vegetables, became aware of the august aspect of the law as he +stood indicted before the tribunal of the higher Police Court on a charge +of insulting a constable of the force." With this exposition begins the +first tale of M. Anatole France's latest volume. + +The bust of the Republic and the image of the Crucified Christ appear +side by side above the bench occupied by the President Bourriche and his +two Assessors; all the laws divine and human are suspended over the head +of Crainquebille. + +From the first visual impression of the accused and of the court the +author passes by a characteristic and natural turn to the historical and +moral significance of those two emblems of State and Religion whose +accord is only possible to the confused reasoning of an average man. But +the reasoning of M. Anatole France is never confused. His reasoning is +clear and informed by a profound erudition. Such is not the case of +Crainquebille, a street hawker, charged with insulting the constituted +power of society in the person of a policeman. The charge is not true, +nothing was further from his thoughts; but, amazed by the novelty of his +position, he does not reflect that the Cross on the wall perpetuates the +memory of a sentence which for nineteen hundred years all the Christian +peoples have looked upon as a grave miscarriage of justice. He might +well have challenged the President to pronounce any sort of sentence, if +it were merely to forty-eight hours of simple imprisonment, in the name +of the Crucified Redeemer. + +He might have done so. But Crainquebille, who has lived pushing every +day for half a century his hand-barrow loaded with vegetables through the +streets of Paris, has not a philosophic mind. Truth to say he has +nothing. He is one of the disinherited. Properly speaking, he has no +existence at all, or, to be strictly truthful, he had no existence till +M. Anatole France's philosophic mind and human sympathy have called him +up from his nothingness for our pleasure, and, as the title-page of the +book has it, no doubt for our profit also. + +Therefore we behold him in the dock, a stranger to all historical, +political or social considerations which can be brought to bear upon his +case. He remains lost in astonishment. Penetrated with respect, +overwhelmed with awe, he is ready to trust the judge upon the question of +his transgression. In his conscience he does not think himself culpable; +but M. Anatole France's philosophical mind discovers for us that he feels +all the insignificance of such a thing as the conscience of a mere street- +hawker in the face of the symbols of the law and before the ministers of +social repression. Crainquebille is innocent; but already the young +advocate, his defender, has half persuaded him of his guilt. + +On this phrase practically ends the introductory chapter of the story +which, as the author's dedication states, has inspired an admirable +draughtsman and a skilful dramatist, each in his art, to a vision of +tragic grandeur. And this opening chapter without a name--consisting of +two and a half pages, some four hundred words at most--is a masterpiece +of insight and simplicity, resumed in M. Anatole France's distinction of +thought and in his princely command of words. + +It is followed by six more short chapters, concise and full, delicate and +complete like the petals of a flower, presenting to us the Adventure of +Crainquebille--Crainquebille before the justice--An Apology for the +President of the Tribunal--Of the Submission of Crainquebille to the Laws +of the Republic--Of his Attitude before the Public Opinion, and so on to +the chapter of the Last Consequences. We see, created for us in his +outward form and innermost perplexity, the old man degraded from his high +estate of a law-abiding street-hawker and driven to insult, really this +time, the majesty of the social order in the person of another police- +constable. It is not an act of revolt, and still less of revenge. +Crainquebille is too old, too resigned, too weary, too guileless to raise +the black standard of insurrection. He is cold and homeless and +starving. He remembers the warmth and the food of the prison. He +perceives the means to get back there. Since he has been locked up, he +argues with himself, for uttering words which, as a matter of fact he did +not say, he will go forth now, and to the first policeman he meets will +say those very words in order to be imprisoned again. Thus reasons +Crainquebille with simplicity and confidence. He accepts facts. Nothing +surprises him. But all the phenomena of social organisation and of his +own life remain for him mysterious to the end. The description of the +policeman in his short cape and hood, who stands quite still, under the +light of a street lamp at the edge of the pavement shining with the wet +of a rainy autumn evening along the whole extent of a long and deserted +thoroughfare, is a perfect piece of imaginative precision. From under +the edge of the hood his eyes look upon Crainquebille, who has just +uttered in an uncertain voice the sacramental, insulting phrase of the +popular slang--_Mort aux vaches_! They look upon him shining in the deep +shadow of the hood with an expression of sadness, vigilance, and +contempt. + +He does not move. Crainquebille, in a feeble and hesitating voice, +repeats once more the insulting words. But this policeman is full of +philosophic superiority, disdain, and indulgence. He refuses to take in +charge the old and miserable vagabond who stands before him shivering and +ragged in the drizzle. And the ruined Crainquebille, victim of a +ridiculous miscarriage of justice, appalled at this magnanimity, passes +on hopelessly down the street full of shadows where the lamps gleam each +in a ruddy halo of falling mist. + +M. Anatole France can speak for the people. This prince of the Senate is +invested with the tribunitian power. M. Anatole France is something of a +Socialist; and in that respect he seems to depart from his sceptical +philosophy. But as an illustrious statesman, now no more, a great prince +too, with an ironic mind and a literary gift, has sarcastically remarked +in one of his public speeches: "We are all Socialists now." And in the +sense in which it may be said that we all in Europe are Christians that +is true enough. To many of us Socialism is merely an emotion. An +emotion is much and is also less than nothing. It is the initial +impulse. The real Socialism of to-day is a religion. It has its dogmas. +The value of the dogma does not consist in its truthfulness, and M. +Anatole France, who loves truth, does not love dogma. Only, unlike +religion, the cohesive strength of Socialism lies not in its dogmas but +in its ideal. It is perhaps a too materialistic ideal, and the mind of +M. Anatole France may not find in it either comfort or consolation. It +is not to be doubted that he suspects this himself; but there is +something reposeful in the finality of popular conceptions. M. Anatole +France, a good prince and a good Republican, will succeed no doubt in +being a good Socialist. He will disregard the stupidity of the dogma and +the unlovely form of the ideal. His art will find its own beauty in the +imaginative presentation of wrongs, of errors, and miseries that call +aloud for redress. M. Anatole France is humane. He is also human. He +may be able to discard his philosophy; to forget that the evils are many +and the remedies are few, that there is no universal panacea, that +fatality is invincible, that there is an implacable menace of death in +the triumph of the humanitarian idea. He may forget all that because +love is stronger than truth. + +Besides "Crainquebille" this volume contains sixteen other stories and +sketches. To define them it is enough to say that they are written in M. +Anatole France's prose. One sketch entitled "Riquet" may be found +incorporated in the volume of _Monsieur Bergeret a Paris_. "Putois" is a +remarkable little tale, significant, humorous, amusing, and symbolic. It +concerns the career of a man born in the utterance of a hasty and +untruthful excuse made by a lady at a loss how to decline without offence +a very pressing invitation to dinner from a very tyrannical aunt. This +happens in a provincial town, and the lady says in effect: "Impossible, +my dear aunt. To-morrow I am expecting the gardener." And the garden +she glances at is a poor garden; it is a wild garden; its extent is +insignificant and its neglect seems beyond remedy. "A gardener! What +for?" asks the aunt. "To work in the garden." And the poor lady is +abashed at the transparence of her evasion. But the lie is told, it is +believed, and she sticks to it. When the masterful old aunt inquires, +"What is the man's name, my dear?" she answers brazenly, "His name is +Putois." "Where does he live?" "Oh, I don't know; anywhere. He won't +give his address. One leaves a message for him here and there." "Oh! I +see," says the other; "he is a sort of ne'er do well, an idler, a +vagabond. I advise you, my dear, to be careful how you let such a +creature into your grounds; but I have a large garden, and when you do +not want his services I shall find him some work to do, and see he does +it too. Tell your Putois to come and see me." And thereupon Putois is +born; he stalks abroad, invisible, upon his career of vagabondage and +crime, stealing melons from gardens and tea-spoons from pantries, +indulging his licentious proclivities; becoming the talk of the town and +of the countryside; seen simultaneously in far-distant places; pursued by +gendarmes, whose brigadier assures the uneasy householders that he "knows +that scamp very well, and won't be long in laying his hands upon him." A +detailed description of his person collected from the information +furnished by various people appears in the columns of a local newspaper. +Putois lives in his strength and malevolence. He lives after the manner +of legendary heroes, of the gods of Olympus. He is the creation of the +popular mind. There comes a time when even the innocent originator of +that mysterious and potent evil-doer is induced to believe for a moment +that he may have a real and tangible presence. All this is told with the +wit and the art and the philosophy which is familiar to M. Anatole +France's readers and admirers. For it is difficult to read M. Anatole +France without admiring him. He has the princely gift of arousing a +spontaneous loyalty, but with this difference, that the consent of our +reason has its place by the side of our enthusiasm. He is an artist. As +an artist he awakens emotion. The quality of his art remains, as an +inspiration, fascinating and inscrutable; but the proceedings of his +thought compel our intellectual admiration. + +In this volume the trifle called "The Military Manoeuvres at Montil," +apart from its far-reaching irony, embodies incidentally the very spirit +of automobilism. Somehow or other, how you cannot tell, the flight over +the country in a motor-car, its sensations, its fatigue, its vast +topographical range, its incidents down to the bursting of a tyre, are +brought home to you with all the force of high imaginative perception. It +would be out of place to analyse here the means by which the true +impression is conveyed so that the absurd rushing about of General +Decuir, in a 30-horse-power car, in search of his cavalry brigade, +becomes to you a more real experience than any day-and-night run you may +ever have taken yourself. Suffice it to say that M. Anatole France had +thought the thing worth doing and that it becomes, in virtue of his art, +a distinct achievement. And there are other sketches in this book, more +or less slight, but all worthy of regard--the childhood's recollections +of Professor Bergeret and his sister Zoe; the dialogue of the two upright +judges and the conversation of their horses; the dream of M. Jean +Marteau, aimless, extravagant, apocalyptic, and of all the dreams one +ever dreamt, the most essentially dreamlike. The vision of M. Anatole +France, the Prince of Prose, ranges over all the extent of his realm, +indulgent and penetrating, disillusioned and curious, finding treasures +of truth and beauty concealed from less gifted magicians. Contemplating +the exactness of his images and the justice of his judgment, the freedom +of his fancy and the fidelity of his purpose, one becomes aware of the +futility of literary watchwords and the vanity of all the schools of +fiction. Not that M. Anatole France is a wild and untrammelled genius. +He is not that. Issued legitimately from the past, he is mindful of his +high descent. He has a critical temperament joined to creative power. He +surveys his vast domain in a spirit of princely moderation that knows +nothing of excesses but much of restraint. + + +II.--"L'ILE DES PINGOUINS" + + +M. Anatole France, historian and adventurer, has given us many profitable +histories of saints and sinners, of Roman procurators and of officials of +the Third Republic, of _grandes dames_ and of dames not so very grand, of +ornate Latinists and of inarticulate street hawkers, of priests and +generals--in fact, the history of all humanity as it appears to his +penetrating eye, serving a mind marvellously incisive in its scepticism, +and a heart that, of all contemporary hearts gifted with a voice, +contains the greatest treasure of charitable irony. As to M. Anatole +France's adventures, these are well-known. They lie open to this +prodigal world in the four volumes of the _Vie Litteraire_, describing +the adventures of a choice soul amongst masterpieces. For such is the +romantic view M. Anatole France takes of the life of a literary critic. +History and adventure, then, seem to be the chosen fields for the +magnificent evolutions of M. Anatole France's prose; but no material +limits can stand in the way of a genius. The latest book from his +pen--which may be called golden, as the lips of an eloquent saint once +upon a time were acclaimed golden by the faithful--this latest book is, +up to a certain point, a book of travel. + +I would not mislead a public whose confidence I court. The book is not a +record of globe-trotting. I regret it. It would have been a joy to +watch M. Anatole France pouring the clear elixir compounded of his +Pyrrhonic philosophy, his Benedictine erudition, his gentle wit and most +humane irony into such an unpromising and opaque vessel. He would have +attempted it in a spirit of benevolence towards his fellow men and of +compassion for that life of the earth which is but a vain and transitory +illusion. M. Anatole France is a great magician, yet there seem to be +tasks which he dare not face. For he is also a sage. + +It is a book of ocean travel--not, however, as understood by Herr Ballin +of Hamburg, the Machiavel of the Atlantic. It is a book of exploration +and discovery--not, however, as conceived by an enterprising journal and +a shrewdly philanthropic king of the nineteenth century. It is nothing +so recent as that. It dates much further back; long, long before the +dark age when Krupp of Essen wrought at his steel plates and a German +Emperor condescendingly suggested the last improvements in ships' dining- +tables. The best idea of the inconceivable antiquity of that enterprise +I can give you is by stating the nature of the explorer's ship. It was a +trough of stone, a vessel of hollowed granite. + +The explorer was St. Mael, a saint of Armorica. I had never heard of him +before, but I believe now in his arduous existence with a faith which is +a tribute to M. Anatole France's pious earnestness and delicate irony. +St. Mael existed. It is distinctly stated of him that his life was a +progress in virtue. Thus it seems that there may be saints that are not +progressively virtuous. St. Mael was not of that kind. He was +industrious. He evangelised the heathen. He erected two hundred and +eighteen chapels and seventy-four abbeys. Indefatigable navigator of the +faith, he drifted casually in the miraculous trough of stone from coast +to coast and from island to island along the northern seas. At the age +of eighty-four his high stature was bowed by his long labours, but his +sinewy arms preserved their vigour and his rude eloquence had lost +nothing of its force. + +A nautical devil tempting him by the worldly suggestion of fitting out +his desultory, miraculous trough with mast, sail, and rudder for swifter +progression (the idea of haste has sprung from the pride of Satan), the +simple old saint lent his ear to the subtle arguments of the progressive +enemy of mankind. + +The venerable St. Mael fell away from grace by not perceiving at once +that a gift of heaven cannot be improved by the contrivances of human +ingenuity. His punishment was adequate. A terrific tempest snatched the +rigged ship of stone in its whirlwinds, and, to be brief, the dazed St. +Mael was stranded violently on the Island of Penguins. + +The saint wandered away from the shore. It was a flat, round island +whence rose in the centre a conical mountain capped with clouds. The +rain was falling incessantly--a gentle, soft rain which caused the simple +saint to exclaim in great delight: "This is the island of tears, the +island of contrition!" + +Meantime the inhabitants had flocked in their tens of thousands to an +amphitheatre of rocks; they were penguins; but the holy man, rendered +deaf and purblind by his years, mistook excusably the multitude of silly, +erect, and self-important birds for a human crowd. At once he began to +preach to them the doctrine of salvation. Having finished his discourse +he lost no time in administering to his interesting congregation the +sacrament of baptism. + +If you are at all a theologian you will see that it was no mean adventure +to happen to a well-meaning and zealous saint. Pray reflect on the +magnitude of the issues! It is easy to believe what M. Anatole France +says, that, when the baptism of the Penguins became known in Paradise, it +caused there neither joy nor sorrow, but a profound sensation. + +M. Anatole France is no mean theologian himself. He reports with great +casuistical erudition the debates in the saintly council assembled in +Heaven for the consideration of an event so disturbing to the economy of +religious mysteries. Ultimately the baptised Penguins had to be turned +into human beings; and together with the privilege of sublime hopes these +innocent birds received the curse of original sin, with the labours, the +miseries, the passions, and the weaknesses attached to the fallen +condition of humanity. + +At this point M. Anatole France is again an historian. From being the +Hakluyt of a saintly adventurer he turns (but more concisely) into the +Gibbon of Imperial Penguins. Tracing the development of their +civilisation, the absurdity of their desires, the pathos of their folly +and the ridiculous littleness of their quarrels, his golden pen lightens +by relevant but unpuritanical anecdotes the austerity of a work devoted +to a subject so grave as the Polity of Penguins. It is a very admirable +treatment, and I hasten to congratulate all men of receptive mind on the +feast of wisdom which is theirs for the mere plucking of a book from a +shelf. + + + +TURGENEV {2}--1917 + + +Dear Edward, + +I am glad to hear that you are about to publish a study of Turgenev, that +fortunate artist who has found so much in life for us and no doubt for +himself, with the exception of bare justice. Perhaps that will come to +him, too, in time. Your study may help the consummation. For his luck +persists after his death. What greater luck an artist like Turgenev +could wish for than to find in the English-speaking world a translator +who has missed none of the most delicate, most simple beauties of his +work, and a critic who has known how to analyse and point out its high +qualities with perfect sympathy and insight. + +After twenty odd years of friendship (and my first literary friendship +too) I may well permit myself to make that statement, while thinking of +your wonderful Prefaces as they appeared from time to time in the volumes +of Turgenev's complete edition, the last of which came into the light of +public indifference in the ninety-ninth year of the nineteenth century. + +With that year one may say, with some justice, that the age of Turgenev +had come to an end too; yet work so simple and human, so independent of +the transitory formulas and theories of art, belongs as you point out in +the Preface to _Smoke_ "to all time." + +Turgenev's creative activity covers about thirty years. Since it came to +an end the social and political events in Russia have moved at an +accelerated pace, but the deep origins of them, in the moral and +intellectual unrest of the souls, are recorded in the whole body of his +work with the unerring lucidity of a great national writer. The first +stirrings, the first gleams of the great forces can be seen almost in +every page of the novels, of the short stories and of _A Sportsman's +Sketches_--those marvellous landscapes peopled by unforgettable figures. + +Those will never grow old. Fashions in monsters do change, but the truth +of humanity goes on for ever, unchangeable and inexhaustible in the +variety of its disclosures. Whether Turgenev's art, which has captured +it with such mastery and such gentleness, is for "all time" it is hard to +say. Since, as you say yourself, he brings all his problems and +characters to the test of love, we may hope that it will endure at least +till the infinite emotions of love are replaced by the exact simplicity +of perfected Eugenics. But even by then, I think, women would not have +changed much; and the women of Turgenev who understood them so tenderly, +so reverently and so passionately--they, at least, are certainly for all +time. + +Women are, one may say, the foundation of his art. They are Russian of +course. Never was a writer so profoundly, so whole-souledly national. +But for non-Russian readers, Turgenev's Russia is but a canvas on which +the incomparable artist of humanity lays his colours and his forms in the +great light and the free air of the world. Had he invented them all and +also every stick and stone, brook and hill and field in which they move, +his personages would have been just as true and as poignant in their +perplexed lives. They are his own and also universal. Any one can +accept them with no more question than one accepts the Italians of +Shakespeare. + +In the larger, non-Russian view, what should make Turgenev sympathetic +and welcome to the English-speaking world, is his essential humanity. All +his creations, fortunate and unfortunate, oppressed and oppressors, are +human beings, not strange beasts in a menagerie or damned souls knocking +themselves to pieces in the stuffy darkness of mystical contradictions. +They are human beings, fit to live, fit to suffer, fit to struggle, fit +to win, fit to lose, in the endless and inspiring game of pursuing from +day to day the ever-receding future. + +I began by calling him lucky, and he was, in a sense. But one ends by +having some doubts. To be so great without the slightest parade and so +fine without any tricks of "cleverness" must be fatal to any man's +influence with his contemporaries. + +Frankly, I don't want to appear as qualified to judge of things Russian. +It wouldn't be true. I know nothing of them. But I am aware of a few +general truths, such as, for instance, that no man, whatever may be the +loftiness of his character, the purity of his motives and the peace of +his conscience--no man, I say, likes to be beaten with sticks during the +greater part of his existence. From what one knows of his history it +appears clearly that in Russia almost any stick was good enough to beat +Turgenev with in his latter years. When he died the characteristically +chicken-hearted Autocracy hastened to stuff his mortal envelope into the +tomb it refused to honour, while the sensitive Revolutionists went on for +a time flinging after his shade those jeers and curses from which that +impartial lover of _all_ his countrymen had suffered so much in his +lifetime. For he, too, was sensitive. Every page of his writing bears +its testimony to the fatal absence of callousness in the man. + +And now he suffers a little from other things. In truth it is not the +convulsed terror-haunted Dostoievski but the serene Turgenev who is under +a curse. For only think! Every gift has been heaped on his cradle: +absolute sanity and the deepest sensibility, the clearest vision and the +quickest responsiveness, penetrating insight and unfailing generosity of +judgment, an exquisite perception of the visible world and an unerring +instinct for the significant, for the essential in the life of men and +women, the clearest mind, the warmest heart, the largest sympathy--and +all that in perfect measure. There's enough there to ruin the prospects +of any writer. For you know very well, my dear Edward, that if you had +Antinous himself in a booth of the world's fair, and killed yourself in +protesting that his soul was as perfect as his body, you wouldn't get one +per cent. of the crowd struggling next door for a sight of the Double- +headed Nightingale or of some weak-kneed giant grinning through a horse +collar. + +J. C. + + + +STEPHEN CRANE--A NOTE WITHOUT DATES--1919 + + +My acquaintance with Stephen Crane was brought about by Mr. Pawling, +partner in the publishing firm of Mr. William Heinemann. + +One day Mr. Pawling said to me: "Stephen Crane has arrived in England. I +asked him if there was anybody he wanted to meet and he mentioned two +names. One of them was yours." I had then just been reading, like the +rest of the world, Crane's _Red Badge of Courage_. The subject of that +story was war, from the point of view of an individual soldier's +emotions. That individual (he remains nameless throughout) was +interesting enough in himself, but on turning over the pages of that +little book which had for the moment secured such a noisy recognition I +had been even more interested in the personality of the writer. The +picture of a simple and untried youth becoming through the needs of his +country part of a great fighting machine was presented with an +earnestness of purpose, a sense of tragic issues, and an imaginative +force of expression which struck me as quite uncommon and altogether +worthy of admiration. + +Apparently Stephen Crane had received a favourable impression from the +reading of the _Nigger of the Narcissus_, a book of mine which had also +been published lately. I was truly pleased to hear this. + +On my next visit to town we met at a lunch. I saw a young man of medium +stature and slender build, with very steady, penetrating blue eyes, the +eyes of a being who not only sees visions but can brood over them to some +purpose. + +He had indeed a wonderful power of vision, which he applied to the things +of this earth and of our mortal humanity with a penetrating force that +seemed to reach, within life's appearances and forms, the very spirit of +life's truth. His ignorance of the world at large--he had seen very +little of it--did not stand in the way of his imaginative grasp of facts, +events, and picturesque men. + +His manner was very quiet, his personality at first sight interesting, +and he talked slowly with an intonation which on some people, mainly +Americans, had, I believe, a jarring effect. But not on me. Whatever he +said had a personal note, and he expressed himself with a graphic +simplicity which was extremely engaging. He knew little of literature, +either of his own country or of any other, but he was himself a wonderful +artist in words whenever he took a pen into his hand. Then his gift came +out--and it was seen then to be much more than mere felicity of language. +His impressionism of phrase went really deeper than the surface. In his +writing he was very sure of his effects. I don't think he was ever in +doubt about what he could do. Yet it often seemed to me that he was but +half aware of the exceptional quality of his achievement. + +This achievement was curtailed by his early death. It was a great loss +to his friends, but perhaps not so much to literature. I think that he +had given his measure fully in the few books he had the time to write. +Let me not be misunderstood: the loss was great, but it was the loss of +the delight his art could give, not the loss of any further possible +revelation. As to himself, who can say how much he gained or lost by +quitting so early this world of the living, which he knew how to set +before us in the terms of his own artistic vision? Perhaps he did not +lose a great deal. The recognition he was accorded was rather languid +and given him grudgingly. The worthiest welcome he secured for his tales +in this country was from Mr. W. Henley in the _New Review_ and later, +towards the end of his life, from the late Mr. William Blackwood in his +magazine. For the rest I must say that during his sojourn in England he +had the misfortune to be, as the French say, _mal entoure_. He was beset +by people who understood not the quality of his genius and were +antagonistic to the deeper fineness of his nature. Some of them have +died since, but dead or alive they are not worth speaking about now. I +don't think he had any illusions about them himself: yet there was a +strain of good-nature and perhaps of weakness in his character which +prevented him from shaking himself free from their worthless and +patronising attentions, which in those days caused me much secret +irritation whenever I stayed with him in either of his English homes. My +wife and I like best to remember him riding to meet us at the gate of the +Park at Brede. Born master of his sincere impressions, he was also a +born horseman. He never appeared so happy or so much to advantage as on +the back of a horse. He had formed the project of teaching my eldest boy +to ride, and meantime, when the child was about two years old, presented +him with his first dog. + +I saw Stephen Crane a few days after his arrival in London. I saw him +for the last time on his last day in England. It was in Dover, in a big +hotel, in a bedroom with a large window looking on to the sea. He had +been very ill and Mrs. Crane was taking him to some place in Germany, but +one glance at that wasted face was enough to tell me that it was the most +forlorn of all hopes. The last words he breathed out to me were: "I am +tired. Give my love to your wife and child." When I stopped at the door +for another look I saw that he had turned his head on the pillow and was +staring wistfully out of the window at the sails of a cutter yacht that +glided slowly across the frame, like a dim shadow against the grey sky. + +Those who have read his little tale, "Horses," and the story, "The Open +Boat," in the volume of that name, know with what fine understanding he +loved horses and the sea. And his passage on this earth was like that of +a horseman riding swiftly in the dawn of a day fated to be short and +without sunshine. + + + +TALES OF THE SEA--1898 + + +It is by his irresistible power to reach the adventurous side in the +character, not only of his own, but of all nations, that Marryat is +largely human. He is the enslaver of youth, not by the literary +artifices of presentation, but by the natural glamour of his own +temperament. To his young heroes the beginning of life is a splendid and +warlike lark, ending at last in inheritance and marriage. His novels are +not the outcome of his art, but of his character, like the deeds that +make up his record of naval service. To the artist his work is +interesting as a completely successful expression of an unartistic +nature. It is absolutely amazing to us, as the disclosure of the spirit +animating the stirring time when the nineteenth century was young. There +is an air of fable about it. Its loss would be irreparable, like the +curtailment of national story or the loss of an historical document. It +is the beginning and the embodiment of an inspiring tradition. + +To this writer of the sea the sea was not an element. It was a stage, +where was displayed an exhibition of valour, and of such achievement as +the world had never seen before. The greatness of that achievement +cannot be pronounced imaginary, since its reality has affected the +destinies of nations; nevertheless, in its grandeur it has all the +remoteness of an ideal. History preserves the skeleton of facts and, +here and there, a figure or a name; but it is in Marryat's novels that we +find the mass of the nameless, that we see them in the flesh, that we +obtain a glimpse of the everyday life and an insight into the spirit +animating the crowd of obscure men who knew how to build for their +country such a shining monument of memories. + +Marryat is really a writer of the Service. What sets him apart is his +fidelity. His pen serves his country as well as did his professional +skill and his renowned courage. His figures move about between water and +sky, and the water and the sky are there only to frame the deeds of the +Service. His novels, like amphibious creatures, live on the sea and +frequent the shore, where they flounder deplorably. The loves and the +hates of his boys are as primitive as their virtues and their vices. His +women, from the beautiful Agnes to the witch-like mother of Lieutenant +Vanslyperken, are, with the exception of the sailors' wives, like the +shadows of what has never been. His Silvas, his Ribieras, his Shriftens, +his Delmars remind us of people we have heard of somewhere, many times, +without ever believing in their existence. His morality is honourable +and conventional. There is cruelty in his fun and he can invent puns in +the midst of carnage. His naiveties are perpetrated in a lurid light. +There is an endless variety of types, all surface, with hard edges, with +memorable eccentricities of outline, with a childish and heroic effect in +the drawing. They do not belong to life; they belong exclusively to the +Service. And yet they live; there is a truth in them, the truth of their +time; a headlong, reckless audacity, an intimacy with violence, an +unthinking fearlessness, and an exuberance of vitality which only years +of war and victories can give. His adventures are enthralling; the +rapidity of his action fascinates; his method is crude, his +sentimentality, obviously incidental, is often factitious. His greatness +is undeniable. + +It is undeniable. To a multitude of readers the navy of to-day is +Marryat's navy still. He has created a priceless legend. If he be not +immortal, yet he will last long enough for the highest ambition, because +he has dealt manfully with an inspiring phase in the history of that +Service on which the life of his country depends. The tradition of the +great past he has fixed in his pages will be cherished for ever as the +guarantee of the future. He loved his country first, the Service next, +the sea perhaps not at all. But the sea loved him without reserve. It +gave him his professional distinction and his author's fame--a fame such +as not often falls to the lot of a true artist. + +At the same time, on the other side of the Atlantic, another man wrote of +the sea with true artistic instinct. He is not invincibly young and +heroic; he is mature and human, though for him also the stress of +adventure and endeavour must end fatally in inheritance and marriage. For +James Fenimore Cooper nature was not the frame-work, it was an essential +part of existence. He could hear its voice, he could understand its +silence, and he could interpret both for us in his prose with all that +felicity and sureness of effect that belong to a poetical conception +alone. His fame, as wide but less brilliant than that of his +contemporary, rests mostly on a novel which is not of the sea. But he +loved the sea and looked at it with consummate understanding. In his sea +tales the sea inter-penetrates with life; it is in a subtle way a factor +in the problem of existence, and, for all its greatness, it is always in +touch with the men, who, bound on errands of war or gain, traverse its +immense solitudes. His descriptions have the magistral ampleness of a +gesture indicating the sweep of a vast horizon. They embrace the colours +of sunset, the peace of starlight, the aspects of calm and storm, the +great loneliness of the waters, the stillness of watchful coasts, and the +alert readiness which marks men who live face to face with the promise +and the menace of the sea. + +He knows the men and he knows the sea. His method may be often faulty, +but his art is genuine. The truth is within him. The road to legitimate +realism is through poetical feeling, and he possesses that--only it is +expressed in the leisurely manner of his time. He has the knowledge of +simple hearts. Long Tom Coffin is a monumental seaman with the +individuality of life and the significance of a type. It is hard to +believe that Manual and Borroughcliffe, Mr. Marble of Marble-Head, +Captain Tuck of the packet-ship _Montauk_, or Daggett, the tenacious +commander of the _Sea Lion_ of Martha's Vineyard, must pass away some day +and be utterly forgotten. His sympathy is large, and his humour is as +genuine--and as perfectly unaffected--as is his art. In certain passages +he reaches, very simply, the heights of inspired vision. + +He wrote before the great American language was born, and he wrote as +well as any novelist of his time. If he pitches upon episodes redounding +to the glory of the young republic, surely England has glory enough to +forgive him, for the sake of his excellence, the patriotic bias at her +expense. The interest of his tales is convincing and unflagging; and +there runs through his work a steady vein of friendliness for the old +country which the succeeding generations of his compatriots have replaced +by a less definite sentiment. + +Perhaps no two authors of fiction influenced so many lives and gave to so +many the initial impulse towards a glorious or a useful career. Through +the distances of space and time those two men of another race have shaped +also the life of the writer of this appreciation. Life is life, and art +is art--and truth is hard to find in either. Yet in testimony to the +achievement of both these authors it may be said that, in the case of the +writer at least, the youthful glamour, the headlong vitality of the one +and the profound sympathy, the artistic insight of the other--to which he +had surrendered--have withstood the brutal shock of facts and the wear of +laborious years. He has never regretted his surrender. + + + +AN OBSERVER IN MALAYA {3}--1898 + + +In his new volume, Mr. Hugh Clifford, at the beginning of the sketch +entitled "At the Heels of the White Man," expresses his anxiety as to the +state of England's account in the Day-Book of the Recording Angel "for +the good and the bad we have done--both with the most excellent +intentions." The intentions will, no doubt, count for something, though, +of course, every nation's conquests are paved with good intentions; or it +may be that the Recording Angel, looking compassionately at the strife of +hearts, may disdain to enter into the Eternal Book the facts of a +struggle which has the reward of its righteousness even on this earth--in +victory and lasting greatness, or in defeat and humiliation. + +And, also, love will count for much. If the opinion of a looker-on from +afar is worth anything, Mr. Hugh Clifford's anxiety about his country's +record is needless. To the Malays whom he governs, instructs, and guides +he is the embodiment of the intentions, of the conscience and might of +his race. And of all the nations conquering distant territories in the +name of the most excellent intentions, England alone sends out men who, +with such a transparent sincerity of feeling, can speak, as Mr. Hugh +Clifford does, of the place of toil and exile as "the land which is very +dear to me, where the best years of my life have been spent"--and where +(I would stake my right hand on it) his name is pronounced with respect +and affection by those brown men about whom he writes. + +All these studies are on a high level of interest, though not all on the +same level. The descriptive chapters, results of personal observation, +seem to me the most interesting. And, indeed, in a book of this kind it +is the author's personality which awakens the greatest interest; it +shapes itself before one in the ring of sentences, it is seen between the +lines--like the progress of a traveller in the jungle that may be traced +by the sound of the _parang_ chopping the swaying creepers, while the man +himself is glimpsed, now and then, indistinct and passing between the +trees. Thus in his very vagueness of appearance, the writer seen through +the leaves of his book becomes a fascinating companion in a land of +fascination. + +It is when dealing with the aspects of nature that Mr. Hugh Clifford is +most convincing. He looks upon them lovingly, for the land is "very dear +to him," and he records his cherished impressions so that the forest, the +great flood, the jungle, the rapid river, and the menacing rock dwell in +the memory of the reader long after the book is closed. He does not say +anything, in so many words, of his affection for those who live amid the +scenes he describes so well, but his humanity is large enough to pardon +us if we suspect him of such a rare weakness. In his preface he +expresses the regret at not having the gifts (whatever they may be) of +the kailyard school, or--looking up to a very different plane--the genius +of Mr. Barrie. He has, however, gifts of his own, and his genius has +served his country and his fortunes in another direction. Yet it is when +attempting what he professes himself unable to do, in telling us the +simple story of Umat, the punkah-puller, with unaffected simplicity and +half-concealed tenderness, that he comes nearest to artistic achievement. + +Each study in this volume presents some idea, illustrated by a fact told +without artifice, but with an elective sureness of knowledge. The story +of Tukang Burok's love, related in the old man's own words, conveys the +very breath of Malay thought and speech. In "His Little Bill," the +coolie, Lim Teng Wah, facing his debtor, stands very distinct before us, +an insignificant and tragic victim of fate with whom he had quarrelled to +the death over a matter of seven dollars and sixty-eight cents. The +story of "The Schooner with a Past" may be heard, from the Straits +eastward, with many variations. Out in the Pacific the schooner becomes +a cutter, and the pearl-divers are replaced by the Black-birds of the +Labour Trade. But Mr. Hugh Clifford's variation is very good. There is +a passage in it--a trifle--just the diver as seen coming up from the +depths, that in its dozen lines or so attains to distinct artistic value. +And, scattered through the book, there are many other passages of almost +equal descriptive excellence. + +Nevertheless, to apply artistic standards to this book would be a +fundamental error in appreciation. Like faith, enthusiasm, or heroism, +art veils part of the truth of life to make the rest appear more +splendid, inspiring, or sinister. And this book is only truth, +interesting and futile, truth unadorned, simple and straightforward. The +Resident of Pahang has the devoted friendship of Umat, the punkah-puller, +he has an individual faculty of vision, a large sympathy, and the +scrupulous consciousness of the good and evil in his hands. He may as +well rest content with such gifts. One cannot expect to be, at the same +time, a ruler of men and an irreproachable player on the flute. + + + +A HAPPY WANDERER--1910 + + +Converts are interesting people. Most of us, if you will pardon me for +betraying the universal secret, have, at some time or other, discovered +in ourselves a readiness to stray far, ever so far, on the wrong road. +And what did we do in our pride and our cowardice? Casting fearful +glances and waiting for a dark moment, we buried our discovery +discreetly, and kept on in the old direction, on that old, beaten track +we have not had courage enough to leave, and which we perceive now more +clearly than before to be but the arid way of the grave. + +The convert, the man capable of grace (I am speaking here in a secular +sense), is not discreet. His pride is of another kind; he jumps gladly +off the track--the touch of grace is mostly sudden--and facing about in a +new direction may even attain the illusion of having turned his back on +Death itself. + +Some converts have, indeed, earned immortality by their exquisite +indiscretion. The most illustrious example of a convert, that Flower of +chivalry, Don Quixote de la Mancha, remains for all the world the only +genuine immortal hidalgo. The delectable Knight of Spain became +converted, as you know, from the ways of a small country squire to an +imperative faith in a tender and sublime mission. Forthwith he was +beaten with sticks and in due course shut up in a wooden cage by the +Barber and the Priest, the fit ministers of a justly shocked social +order. I do not know if it has occurred to anybody yet to shut up Mr. +Luffmann in a wooden cage. {4} I do not raise the point because I wish +him any harm. Quite the contrary. I am a humane person. Let him take +it as the highest praise--but I must say that he richly deserves that +sort of attention. + +On the other hand I would not have him unduly puffed up with the pride of +the exalted association. The grave wisdom, the admirable amenity, the +serene grace of the secular patron-saint of all mortals converted to +noble visions are not his. Mr. Luffmann has no mission. He is no Knight +sublimely Errant. But he is an excellent Vagabond. He is full of merit. +That peripatetic guide, philosopher and friend of all nations, Mr. +Roosevelt, would promptly excommunicate him with a big stick. The truth +is that the ex-autocrat of all the States does not like rebels against +the sullen order of our universe. Make the best of it or perish--he +cries. A sane lineal successor of the Barber and the Priest, and a +sagacious political heir of the incomparable Sancho Panza (another great +Governor), that distinguished litterateur has no mercy for dreamers. And +our author happens to be a man of (you may trace them in his books) some +rather fine reveries. + +Every convert begins by being a rebel, and I do not see myself how any +mercy can possibly be extended to Mr. Luffmann. He is a convert from the +creed of strenuous life. For this renegade the body is of little +account; to him work appears criminal when it suppresses the demands of +the inner life; while he was young he did grind virtuously at the sacred +handle, and now, he says, he has fallen into disgrace with some people +because he believes no longer in toil without end. Certain respectable +folk hate him--so he says--because he dares to think that "poetry, +beauty, and the broad face of the world are the best things to be in love +with." He confesses to loving Spain on the ground that she is "the land +of to-morrow, and holds the gospel of never-mind." The universal +striving to push ahead he considers mere vulgar folly. Didn't I tell you +he was a fit subject for the cage? + +It is a relief (we are all humane, are we not?) to discover that this +desperate character is not altogether an outcast. Little girls seem to +like him. One of them, after listening to some of his tales, remarked to +her mother, "Wouldn't it be lovely if what he says were true!" Here you +have Woman! The charming creatures will neither strain at a camel nor +swallow a gnat. Not publicly. These operations, without which the world +they have such a large share in could not go on for ten minutes, are left +to us--men. And then we are chided for being coarse. This is a refined +objection but does not seem fair. Another little girl--or perhaps the +same little girl--wrote to him in Cordova, "I hope Poste-Restante is a +nice place, and that you are very comfortable." Woman again! I have in +my time told some stories which are (I hate false modesty) both true and +lovely. Yet no little girl ever wrote to me in kindly terms. And why? +Simply because I am not enough of a Vagabond. The dear despots of the +fireside have a weakness for lawless characters. This is amiable, but +does not seem rational. + +Being Quixotic, Mr. Luffmann is no Impressionist. He is far too earnest +in his heart, and not half sufficiently precise in his style to be that. +But he is an excellent narrator. More than any Vagabond I have ever met, +he knows what he is about. There is not one of his quiet days which is +dull. You will find in them a love-story not made up, the +_coup-de-foudre_, the lightning-stroke of Spanish love; and you will +marvel how a spell so sudden and vehement can be at the same time so +tragically delicate. You will find there landladies devoured with +jealousy, astute housekeepers, delightful boys, wise peasants, touchy +shopkeepers, all the _cosas de Espana_--and, in addition, the pale girl +Rosario. I recommend that pathetic and silent victim of fate to your +benevolent compassion. You will find in his pages the humours of +starving workers of the soil, the vision among the mountains of an +exulting mad spirit in a mighty body, and many other visions worthy of +attention. And they are exact visions, for this idealist is no +visionary. He is in sympathy with suffering mankind, and has a grasp on +real human affairs. I mean the great and pitiful affairs concerned with +bread, love, and the obscure, unexpressed needs which drive great crowds +to prayer in the holy places of the earth. + +But I like his conception of what a "quiet" life is like! His quiet days +require no fewer than forty-two of the forty-nine provinces of Spain to +take their ease in. For his unquiet days, I presume, the seven--or is it +nine?--crystal spheres of Alexandrian cosmogony would afford, but a +wretchedly straitened space. A most unconventional thing is his notion +of quietness. One would take it as a joke; only that, perchance, to the +author of _Quiet Days in Spain_ all days may seem quiet, because, a +courageous convert, he is now at peace with himself. + +How better can we take leave of this interesting Vagabond than with the +road salutation of passing wayfarers: "And on you be peace! . . . You +have chosen your ideal, and it is a good choice. There's nothing like +giving up one's life to an unselfish passion. Let the rich and the +powerful of this globe preach their sound gospel of palpable progress. +The part of the ideal you embrace is the better one, if only in its +illusions. No great passion can be barren. May a world of gracious and +poignant images attend the lofty solitude of your renunciation!" + + + +THE LIFE BEYOND--1910 + + +You have no doubt noticed that certain books produce a sort of physical +effect on one--mostly an audible effect. I am not alluding here to Blue +books or to books of statistics. The effect of these is simply +exasperating and no more. No! the books I have in mind are just the +common books of commerce you and I read when we have five minutes to +spare, the usual hired books published by ordinary publishers, printed by +ordinary printers, and censored (when they happen to be novels) by the +usual circulating libraries, the guardians of our firesides, whose names +are household words within the four seas. + +To see the fair and the brave of this free country surrendering +themselves with unbounded trust to the direction of the circulating +libraries is very touching. It is even, in a sense, a beautiful +spectacle, because, as you know, humility is a rare and fragrant virtue; +and what can be more humble than to surrender your morals and your +intellect to the judgment of one of your tradesmen? I suppose that there +are some very perfect people who allow the Army and Navy Stores to censor +their diet. So much merit, however, I imagine, is not frequently met +with here below. The flesh, alas! is weak, and--from a certain point of +view--so important! + +A superficial person might be rendered miserable by the simple question: +What would become of us if the circulating libraries ceased to exist? It +is a horrid and almost indelicate supposition, but let us be brave and +face the truth. On this earth of ours nothing lasts. _Tout passe, tout +casse, tout lasse_. Imagine the utter wreck overtaking the morals of our +beautiful country-houses should the circulating libraries suddenly die! +But pray do not shudder. There is no occasion. + +Their spirit shall survive. I declare this from inward conviction, and +also from scientific information received lately. For observe: the +circulating libraries are human institutions. I beg you to follow me +closely. They are human institutions, and being human, they are not +animal, and, therefore, they are spiritual. Thus, any man with enough +money to take a shop, stock his shelves, and pay for advertisements shall +be able to evoke the pure and censorious spectre of the circulating +libraries whenever his own commercial spirit moves him. + +For, and this is the information alluded to above, Science, having in its +infinite wanderings run up against various wonders and mysteries, is +apparently willing now to allow a spiritual quality to man and, I +conclude, to all his works as well. + +I do not know exactly what this "Science" may be; and I do not think that +anybody else knows; but that is the information stated shortly. It is +contained in a book reposing under my thoughtful eyes. {5} I know it is +not a censored book, because I can see for myself that it is not a novel. +The author, on his side, warns me that it is not philosophy, that it is +not metaphysics, that it is not natural science. After this +comprehensive warning, the definition of the book becomes, you will +admit, a pretty hard nut to crack. + +But meantime let us return for a moment to my opening remark about the +physical effect of some common, hired books. A few of them (not +necessarily books of verse) are melodious; the music some others make for +you as you read has the disagreeable emphasis of a barrel-organ; the +tinkling-cymbals book (it was not written by a humorist) I only met once. +But there is infinite variety in the noises books do make. I have now on +my shelves a book apparently of the most valuable kind which, before I +have read half-a-dozen lines, begins to make a noise like a buzz-saw. I +am inconsolable; I shall never, I fear, discover what it is all about, +for the buzzing covers the words, and at every try I am absolutely forced +to give it up ere the end of the page is reached. + +The book, however, which I have found so difficult to define, is by no +means noisy. As a mere piece of writing it may be described as being +breathless itself and taking the reader's breath away, not by the +magnitude of its message but by a sort of anxious volubility in the +delivery. The constantly elusive argument and the illustrative +quotations go on without a single reflective pause. For this reason +alone the reading of that work is a fatiguing process. + +The author himself (I use his own words) "suspects" that what he has +written "may be theology after all." It may be. It is not my place +either to allay or to confirm the author's suspicion of his own work. But +I will state its main thesis: "That science regarded in the gross +dictates the spirituality of man and strongly implies a spiritual destiny +for individual human beings." This means: Existence after Death--that +is, Immortality. + +To find out its value you must go to the book. But I will observe here +that an Immortality liable at any moment to betray itself fatuously by +the forcible incantations of Mr. Stead or Professor Crookes is scarcely +worth having. Can you imagine anything more squalid than an Immortality +at the beck and call of Eusapia Palladino? That woman lives on the top +floor of a Neapolitan house, and gets our poor, pitiful, august dead, +flesh of our flesh, bone of our bone, spirit of our spirit, who have +loved, suffered and died, as we must love, suffer, and die--she gets them +to beat tambourines in a corner and protrude shadowy limbs through a +curtain. This is particularly horrible, because, if one had to put one's +faith in these things one could not even die safely from disgust, as one +would long to do. + +And to believe that these manifestations, which the author evidently +takes for modern miracles, will stay our tottering faith; to believe that +the new psychology has, only the other day, discovered man to be a +"spiritual mystery," is really carrying humility towards that universal +provider, Science, too far. + +* * * * * + +We moderns have complicated our old perplexities to the point of +absurdity; our perplexities older than religion itself. It is not for +nothing that for so many centuries the priest, mounting the steps of the +altar, murmurs, "Why art thou sad, my soul, and why dost thou trouble +me?" Since the day of Creation two veiled figures, Doubt and Melancholy, +are pacing endlessly in the sunshine of the world. What humanity needs +is not the promise of scientific immortality, but compassionate pity in +this life and infinite mercy on the Day of Judgment. + +And, for the rest, during this transient hour of our pilgrimage, we may +well be content to repeat the Invocation of Sar Peladan. Sar Peladan was +an occultist, a seer, a modern magician. He believed in astrology, in +the spirits of the air, in elves; he was marvellously and deliciously +absurd. Incidentally he wrote some incomprehensible poems and a few +pages of harmonious prose, for, you must know, "a magician is nothing +else but a great harmonist." Here are some eight lines of the +magnificent Invocation. Let me, however, warn you, strictly between +ourselves, that my translation is execrable. I am sorry to say I am no +magician. + +"O Nature, indulgent Mother, forgive! Open your arms to the son, +prodigal and weary. + +"I have attempted to tear asunder the veil you have hung to conceal from +us the pain of life, and I have been wounded by the mystery. . . . +OEdipus, half way to finding the word of the enigma, young Faust, +regretting already the simple life, the life of the heart, I come back to +you repentant, reconciled, O gentle deceiver!" + + + +THE ASCENDING EFFORT--1910 + + +Much good paper has been lamentably wasted to prove that science has +destroyed, that it is destroying, or, some day, may destroy poetry. +Meantime, unblushing, unseen, and often unheard, the guileless poets have +gone on singing in a sweet strain. How they dare do the impossible and +virtually forbidden thing is a cause for wonder but not for legislation. +Not yet. We are at present too busy reforming the silent burglar and +planning concerts to soothe the savage breast of the yelling hooligan. As +somebody--perhaps a publisher--said lately: "Poetry is of no account now- +a-days." + +But it is not totally neglected. Those persons with gold-rimmed +spectacles whose usual occupation is to spy upon the obvious have +remarked audibly (on several occasions) that poetry has so far not given +to science any acknowledgment worthy of its distinguished position in the +popular mind. Except that Tennyson looked down the throat of a foxglove, +that Erasmus Darwin wrote _The Loves of the Plants_ and a scoffer _The +Loves of the Triangles_, poets have been supposed to be indecorously +blind to the progress of science. What tribute, for instance, has poetry +paid to electricity? All I can remember on the spur of the moment is Mr. +Arthur Symons' line about arc lamps: "Hung with the globes of some +unnatural fruit." + +Commerce and Manufacture praise on every hand in their not mute but +inarticulate way the glories of science. Poetry does not play its part. +Behold John Keats, skilful with the surgeon's knife; but when he writes +poetry his inspiration is not from the operating table. Here I am +reminded, though, of a modern instance to the contrary in prose. Mr. H. +G. Wells, who, as far as I know, has never written a line of verse, was +inspired a few years ago to write a short story, _Under the Knife_. Out +of a clock-dial, a brass rod, and a whiff of chloroform, he has conjured +for us a sensation of space and eternity, evoked the face of the +Unknowable, and an awesome, august voice, like the voice of the Judgment +Day; a great voice, perhaps the voice of science itself, uttering the +words: "There shall be no more pain!" I advise you to look up that +story, so human and so intimate, because Mr. Wells, the writer of prose +whose amazing inventiveness we all know, remains a poet even in his most +perverse moments of scorn for things as they are. His poetic imagination +is sometimes even greater than his inventiveness, I am not afraid to say. +But, indeed, imaginative faculty would make any man a poet--were he born +without tongue for speech and without hands to seize his fancy and fasten +her down to a wretched piece of paper. + +* * * * * + +The book {6} which in the course of the last few days I have opened and +shut several times is not imaginative. But, on the other hand, it is not +a dumb book, as some are. It has even a sort of sober and serious +eloquence, reminding us that not poetry alone is at fault in this matter. +Mr. Bourne begins his _Ascending Effort_ with a remark by Sir Francis +Galton upon Eugenics that "if the principles he was advocating were to +become effective they must be introduced into the national conscience, +like a new religion." "Introduced" suggests compulsory vaccination. Mr. +Bourne, who is not a theologian, wishes to league together not science +and religion, but science and the arts. "The intoxicating power of art," +he thinks, is the very thing needed to give the desired effect to the +doctrines of science. In uninspired phrase he points to the arts playing +once upon a time a part in "popularising the Christian tenets." With +painstaking fervour as great as the fervour of prophets, but not so +persuasive, he foresees the arts some day popularising science. Until +that day dawns, science will continue to be lame and poetry blind. He +himself cannot smooth or even point out the way, though he thinks that "a +really prudent people would be greedy of beauty," and their public +authorities "as careful of the sense of comfort as of sanitation." + +As the writer of those remarkable rustic note-books, _The Bettesworth +Book_ and _Memoirs of a Surrey Labourer_, the author has a claim upon our +attention. But his seriousness, his patience, his almost touching +sincerity, can only command the respect of his readers and nothing more. +He is obsessed by science, haunted and shadowed by it, until he has been +bewildered into awe. He knows, indeed, that art owes its triumphs and +its subtle influence to the fact that it issues straight from our organic +vitality, and is a movement of life-cells with their matchless +unintellectual knowledge. But the fact that poetry does not seem +obviously in love with science has never made him doubt whether it may +not be an argument against his haste to see the marriage ceremony +performed amid public rejoicings. + +Many a man has heard or read and believes that the earth goes round the +sun; one small blob of mud among several others, spinning ridiculously +with a waggling motion like a top about to fall. This is the Copernican +system, and the man believes in the system without often knowing as much +about it as its name. But while watching a sunset he sheds his belief; +he sees the sun as a small and useful object, the servant of his needs +and the witness of his ascending effort, sinking slowly behind a range of +mountains, and then he holds the system of Ptolemy. He holds it without +knowing it. In the same way a poet hears, reads, and believes a thousand +undeniable truths which have not yet got into his blood, nor will do +after reading Mr. Bourne's book; he writes, therefore, as if neither +truths nor book existed. Life and the arts follow dark courses, and will +not turn aside to the brilliant arc-lights of science. Some day, without +a doubt,--and it may be a consolation to Mr. Bourne to know it--fully +informed critics will point out that Mr. Davies's poem on a dark woman +combing her hair must have been written after the invasion of +appendicitis, and that Mr. Yeats's "Had I the heaven's embroidered +cloths" came before radium was quite unnecessarily dragged out of its +respectable obscurity in pitchblende to upset the venerable (and +comparatively naive) chemistry of our young days. + +There are times when the tyranny of science and the cant of science are +alarming, but there are other times when they are entertaining--and this +is one of them. "Many a man prides himself" says Mr. Bourne, "on his +piety or his views of art, whose whole range of ideas, could they be +investigated, would be found ordinary, if not base, because they have +been adopted in compliance with some external persuasion or to serve some +timid purpose instead of proceeding authoritatively from the living +selection of his hereditary taste." This extract is a fair sample of the +book's thought and of its style. But Mr. Bourne seems to forget that +"persuasion" is a vain thing. The appreciation of great art comes from +within. + +It is but the merest justice to say that the transparent honesty of Mr. +Bourne's purpose is undeniable. But the whole book is simply an earnest +expression of a pious wish; and, like the generality of pious wishes, +this one seems of little dynamic value--besides being impracticable. + +Yes, indeed. Art has served Religion; artists have found the most +exalted inspiration in Christianity; but the light of Transfiguration +which has illuminated the profoundest mysteries of our sinful souls is +not the light of the generating stations, which exposes the depths of our +infatuation where our mere cleverness is permitted for a while to grope +for the unessential among invincible shadows. + + + +THE CENSOR OF PLAYS--AN APPRECIATION--1907 + + +A couple of years ago I was moved to write a one-act play--and I lived +long enough to accomplish the task. We live and learn. When the play +was finished I was informed that it had to be licensed for performance. +Thus I learned of the existence of the Censor of Plays. I may say +without vanity that I am intelligent enough to have been astonished by +that piece of information: for facts must stand in some relation to time +and space, and I was aware of being in England--in the twentieth-century +England. The fact did not fit the date and the place. That was my first +thought. It was, in short, an improper fact. I beg you to believe that +I am writing in all seriousness and am weighing my words scrupulously. + +Therefore I don't say inappropriate. I say improper--that is: something +to be ashamed of. And at first this impression was confirmed by the +obscurity in which the figure embodying this after all considerable fact +had its being. The Censor of Plays! His name was not in the mouths of +all men. Far from it. He seemed stealthy and remote. There was about +that figure the scent of the far East, like the peculiar atmosphere of a +Mandarin's back yard, and the mustiness of the Middle Ages, that epoch +when mankind tried to stand still in a monstrous illusion of final +certitude attained in morals, intellect and conscience. + +It was a disagreeable impression. But I reflected that probably the +censorship of plays was an inactive monstrosity; not exactly a survival, +since it seemed obviously at variance with the genius of the people, but +an heirloom of past ages, a bizarre and imported curiosity preserved +because of that weakness one has for one's old possessions apart from any +intrinsic value; one more object of exotic _virtu_, an Oriental +_potiche_, a _magot chinois_ conceived by a childish and extravagant +imagination, but allowed to stand in stolid impotence in the twilight of +the upper shelf. + +Thus I quieted my uneasy mind. Its uneasiness had nothing to do with the +fate of my one-act play. The play was duly produced, and an +exceptionally intelligent audience stared it coldly off the boards. It +ceased to exist. It was a fair and open execution. But having survived +the freezing atmosphere of that auditorium I continued to exist, +labouring under no sense of wrong. I was not pleased, but I was content. +I was content to accept the verdict of a free and independent public, +judging after its conscience the work of its free, independent and +conscientious servant--the artist. + +Only thus can the dignity of artistic servitude be preserved--not to +speak of the bare existence of the artist and the self-respect of the +man. I shall say nothing of the self-respect of the public. To the self- +respect of the public the present appeal against the censorship is being +made and I join in it with all my heart. + +For I have lived long enough to learn that the monstrous and outlandish +figure, the _magot chinois_ whom I believed to be but a memorial of our +forefathers' mental aberration, that grotesque _potiche_, works! The +absurd and hollow creature of clay seems to be alive with a sort of +(surely) unconscious life worthy of its traditions. It heaves its +stomach, it rolls its eyes, it brandishes a monstrous arm: and with the +censorship, like a Bravo of old Venice with a more carnal weapon, stabs +its victim from behind in the twilight of its upper shelf. Less +picturesque than the Venetian in cloak and mask, less estimable, too, in +this, that the assassin plied his moral trade at his own risk deriving no +countenance from the powers of the Republic, it stands more malevolent, +inasmuch that the Bravo striking in the dusk killed but the body, whereas +the grotesque thing nodding its mandarin head may in its absurd +unconsciousness strike down at any time the spirit of an honest, of an +artistic, perhaps of a sublime creation. + +This Chinese monstrosity, disguised in the trousers of the Western +Barbarian and provided by the State with the immortal Mr. Stiggins's plug +hat and umbrella, is with us. It is an office. An office of trust. And +from time to time there is found an official to fill it. He is a public +man. The least prominent of public men, the most unobtrusive, the most +obscure if not the most modest. + +But however obscure, a public man may be told the truth if only once in +his life. His office flourishes in the shade; not in the rustic shade +beloved of the violet but in the muddled twilight of mind, where tyranny +of every sort flourishes. Its holder need not have either brain or +heart, no sight, no taste, no imagination, not even bowels of compassion. +He needs not these things. He has power. He can kill thought, and +incidentally truth, and incidentally beauty, providing they seek to live +in a dramatic form. He can do it, without seeing, without understanding, +without feeling anything; out of mere stupid suspicion, as an +irresponsible Roman Caesar could kill a senator. He can do that and +there is no one to say him nay. He may call his cook (Moliere used to do +that) from below and give her five acts to judge every morning as a +matter of constant practice and still remain the unquestioned destroyer +of men's honest work. He may have a glass too much. This accident has +happened to persons of unimpeachable morality--to gentlemen. He may +suffer from spells of imbecility like Clodius. He may . . . what might +he not do! I tell you he is the Caesar of the dramatic world. There has +been since the Roman Principate nothing in the way of irresponsible power +to compare with the office of the Censor of Plays. + +Looked at in this way it has some grandeur, something colossal in the +odious and the absurd. This figure in whose power it is to suppress an +intellectual conception--to kill thought (a dream for a mad brain, my +masters!)--seems designed in a spirit of bitter comedy to bring out the +greatness of a Philistine's conceit and his moral cowardice. + +But this is England in the twentieth century, and one wonders that there +can be found a man courageous enough to occupy the post. It is a matter +for meditation. Having given it a few minutes I come to the conclusion +in the serenity of my heart and the peace of my conscience that he must +be either an extreme megalomaniac or an utterly unconscious being. + +He must be unconscious. It is one of the qualifications for his +magistracy. Other qualifications are equally easy. He must have done +nothing, expressed nothing, imagined nothing. He must be obscure, +insignificant and mediocre--in thought, act, speech and sympathy. He +must know nothing of art, of life--and of himself. For if he did he +would not dare to be what he is. Like that much questioned and +mysterious bird, the phoenix, he sits amongst the cold ashes of his +predecessor upon the altar of morality, alone of his kind in the sight of +wondering generations. + +And I will end with a quotation reproducing not perhaps the exact words +but the true spirit of a lofty conscience. + +"Often when sitting down to write the notice of a play, especially when I +felt it antagonistic to my canons of art, to my tastes or my convictions, +I hesitated in the fear lest my conscientious blame might check the +development of a great talent, my sincere judgment condemn a worthy mind. +With the pen poised in my hand I hesitated, whispering to myself 'What if +I were perchance doing my part in killing a masterpiece.'" + +Such were the lofty scruples of M. Jules Lemaitre--dramatist and dramatic +critic, a great citizen and a high magistrate in the Republic of Letters; +a Censor of Plays exercising his august office openly in the light of +day, with the authority of a European reputation. But then M. Jules +Lemaitre is a man possessed of wisdom, of great fame, of a fine +conscience--not an obscure hollow Chinese monstrosity ornamented with Mr. +Stiggins's plug hat and cotton umbrella by its anxious grandmother--the +State. + +Frankly, is it not time to knock the improper object off its shelf? It +has stood too long there. Hatched in Pekin (I should say) by some Board +of Respectable Rites, the little caravan monster has come to us by way of +Moscow--I suppose. It is outlandish. It is not venerable. It does not +belong here. Is it not time to knock it off its dark shelf with some +implement appropriate to its worth and status? With an old broom handle +for instance. + + + + +PART II--LIFE + + +AUTOCRACY AND WAR--1905 + + +From the firing of the first shot on the banks of the Sha-ho, the fate of +the great battle of the Russo-Japanese war hung in the balance for more +than a fortnight. The famous three-day battles, for which history has +reserved the recognition of special pages, sink into insignificance +before the struggles in Manchuria engaging half a million men on fronts +of sixty miles, struggles lasting for weeks, flaming up fiercely and +dying away from sheer exhaustion, to flame up again in desperate +persistence, and end--as we have seen them end more than once--not from +the victor obtaining a crushing advantage, but through the mortal +weariness of the combatants. + +We have seen these things, though we have seen them only in the cold, +silent, colourless print of books and newspapers. In stigmatising the +printed word as cold, silent and colourless, I have no intention of +putting a slight upon the fidelity and the talents of men who have +provided us with words to read about the battles in Manchuria. I only +wished to suggest that in the nature of things, the war in the Far East +has been made known to us, so far, in a grey reflection of its terrible +and monotonous phases of pain, death, sickness; a reflection seen in the +perspective of thousands of miles, in the dim atmosphere of official +reticence, through the veil of inadequate words. Inadequate, I say, +because what had to be reproduced is beyond the common experience of war, +and our imagination, luckily for our peace of mind, has remained a +slumbering faculty, notwithstanding the din of humanitarian talk and the +real progress of humanitarian ideas. Direct vision of the fact, or the +stimulus of a great art, can alone make it turn and open its eyes heavy +with blessed sleep; and even there, as against the testimony of the +senses and the stirring up of emotion, that saving callousness which +reconciles us to the conditions of our existence, will assert itself +under the guise of assent to fatal necessity, or in the enthusiasm of a +purely aesthetic admiration of the rendering. In this age of knowledge +our sympathetic imagination, to which alone we can look for the ultimate +triumph of concord and justice, remains strangely impervious to +information, however correctly and even picturesquely conveyed. As to +the vaunted eloquence of a serried array of figures, it has all the +futility of precision without force. It is the exploded superstition of +enthusiastic statisticians. An over-worked horse falling in front of our +windows, a man writhing under a cart-wheel in the streets awaken more +genuine emotion, more horror, pity, and indignation than the stream of +reports, appalling in their monotony, of tens of thousands of decaying +bodies tainting the air of the Manchurian plains, of other tens of +thousands of maimed bodies groaning in ditches, crawling on the frozen +ground, filling the field hospitals; of the hundreds of thousands of +survivors no less pathetic and even more tragic in being left alive by +fate to the wretched exhaustion of their pitiful toil. + +An early Victorian, or perhaps a pre-Victorian, sentimentalist, looking +out of an upstairs window, I believe, at a street--perhaps Fleet Street +itself--full of people, is reported, by an admiring friend, to have wept +for joy at seeing so much life. These arcadian tears, this facile +emotion worthy of the golden age, comes to us from the past, with solemn +approval, after the close of the Napoleonic wars and before the series of +sanguinary surprises held in reserve by the nineteenth century for our +hopeful grandfathers. We may well envy them their optimism of which this +anecdote of an amiable wit and sentimentalist presents an extreme +instance, but still, a true instance, and worthy of regard in the +spontaneous testimony to that trust in the life of the earth, triumphant +at last in the felicity of her children. Moreover, the psychology of +individuals, even in the most extreme instances, reflects the general +effect of the fears and hopes of its time. Wept for joy! I should think +that now, after eighty years, the emotion would be of a sterner sort. One +could not imagine anybody shedding tears of joy at the sight of much life +in a street, unless, perhaps, he were an enthusiastic officer of a +general staff or a popular politician, with a career yet to make. And +hardly even that. In the case of the first tears would be +unprofessional, and a stern repression of all signs of joy at the +provision of so much food for powder more in accord with the rules of +prudence; the joy of the second would be checked before it found issue in +weeping by anxious doubts as to the soundness of these electors' views +upon the question of the hour, and the fear of missing the consensus of +their votes. + +No! It seems that such a tender joy would be misplaced now as much as +ever during the last hundred years, to go no further back. The end of +the eighteenth century was, too, a time of optimism and of dismal +mediocrity in which the French Revolution exploded like a bombshell. In +its lurid blaze the insufficiency of Europe, the inferiority of minds, of +military and administrative systems, stood exposed with pitiless +vividness. And there is but little courage in saying at this time of the +day that the glorified French Revolution itself, except for its +destructive force, was in essentials a mediocre phenomenon. The +parentage of that great social and political upheaval was intellectual, +the idea was elevated; but it is the bitter fate of any idea to lose its +royal form and power, to lose its "virtue" the moment it descends from +its solitary throne to work its will among the people. It is a king +whose destiny is never to know the obedience of his subjects except at +the cost of degradation. The degradation of the ideas of freedom and +justice at the root of the French Revolution is made manifest in the +person of its heir; a personality without law or faith, whom it has been +the fashion to represent as an eagle, but who was, in truth, more like a +sort of vulture preying upon the body of a Europe which did, indeed, for +some dozen of years, very much resemble a corpse. The subtle and +manifold influence for evil of the Napoleonic episode as a school of +violence, as a sower of national hatreds, as the direct provocator of +obscurantism and reaction, of political tyranny and injustice, cannot +well be exaggerated. + +The nineteenth century began with wars which were the issue of a +corrupted revolution. It may be said that the twentieth begins with a +war which is like the explosive ferment of a moral grave, whence may yet +emerge a new political organism to take the place of a gigantic and +dreaded phantom. For a hundred years the ghost of Russian might, +overshadowing with its fantastic bulk the councils of Central and Western +Europe, sat upon the gravestone of autocracy, cutting off from air, from +light, from all knowledge of themselves and of the world, the buried +millions of Russian people. Not the most determined cockney +sentimentalist could have had the heart to weep for joy at the thought of +its teeming numbers! And yet they were living, they are alive yet, +since, through the mist of print, we have seen their blood freezing +crimson upon the snow of the squares and streets of St. Petersburg; since +their generations born in the grave are yet alive enough to fill the +ditches and cover the fields of Manchuria with their torn limbs; to send +up from the frozen ground of battlefields a chorus of groans calling for +vengeance from Heaven; to kill and retreat, or kill and advance, without +intermission or rest for twenty hours, for fifty hours, for whole weeks +of fatigue, hunger, cold, and murder--till their ghastly labour, worthy +of a place amongst the punishments of Dante's Inferno, passing through +the stages of courage, of fury, of hopelessness, sinks into the night of +crazy despair. + +It seems that in both armies many men are driven beyond the bounds of +sanity by the stress of moral and physical misery. Great numbers of +soldiers and regimental officers go mad as if by way of protest against +the peculiar sanity of a state of war: mostly among the Russians, of +course. The Japanese have in their favour the tonic effect of success; +and the innate gentleness of their character stands them in good stead. +But the Japanese grand army has yet another advantage in this +nerve-destroying contest, which for endless, arduous toil of killing +surpasses all the wars of history. It has a base for its operations; a +base of a nature beyond the concern of the many books written upon the so- +called art of war, which, considered by itself, purely as an exercise of +human ingenuity, is at best only a thing of well-worn, simple artifices. +The Japanese army has for its base a reasoned conviction; it has behind +it the profound belief in the right of a logical necessity to be appeased +at the cost of so much blood and treasure. And in that belief, whether +well or ill founded, that army stands on the high ground of conscious +assent, shouldering deliberately the burden of a long-tried faithfulness. +The other people (since each people is an army nowadays), torn out from a +miserable quietude resembling death itself, hurled across space, amazed, +without starting-point of its own or knowledge of the aim, can feel +nothing but a horror-stricken consciousness of having mysteriously become +the plaything of a black and merciless fate. + +The profound, the instructive nature of this war is resumed by the +memorable difference in the spiritual state of the two armies; the one +forlorn and dazed on being driven out from an abyss of mental darkness +into the red light of a conflagration, the other with a full knowledge of +its past and its future, "finding itself" as it were at every step of the +trying war before the eyes of an astonished world. The greatness of the +lesson has been dwarfed for most of us by an often half-conscious +prejudice of race-difference. The West having managed to lodge its hasty +foot on the neck of the East, is prone to forget that it is from the East +that the wonders of patience and wisdom have come to a world of men who +set the value of life in the power to act rather than in the faculty of +meditation. It has been dwarfed by this, and it has been obscured by a +cloud of considerations with whose shaping wisdom and meditation had +little or nothing to do; by the weary platitudes on the military +situation which (apart from geographical conditions) is the same +everlasting situation that has prevailed since the times of Hannibal and +Scipio, and further back yet, since the beginning of historical +record--since prehistoric times, for that matter; by the conventional +expressions of horror at the tale of maiming and killing; by the rumours +of peace with guesses more or less plausible as to its conditions. All +this is made legitimate by the consecrated custom of writers in such time +as this--the time of a great war. More legitimate in view of the +situation created in Europe are the speculations as to the course of +events after the war. More legitimate, but hardly more wise than the +irresponsible talk of strategy that never changes, and of terms of peace +that do not matter. + +And above it all--unaccountably persistent--the decrepit, old, hundred +years old, spectre of Russia's might still faces Europe from across the +teeming graves of Russian people. This dreaded and strange apparition, +bristling with bayonets, armed with chains, hung over with holy images; +that something not of this world, partaking of a ravenous ghoul, of a +blind Djinn grown up from a cloud, and of the Old Man of the Sea, still +faces us with its old stupidity, with its strange mystical arrogance, +stamping its shadowy feet upon the gravestone of autocracy already +cracked beyond repair by the torpedoes of Togo and the guns of Oyama, +already heaving in the blood-soaked ground with the first stirrings of a +resurrection. + +Never before had the Western world the opportunity to look so deep into +the black abyss which separates a soulless autocracy posing as, and even +believing itself to be, the arbiter of Europe, from the benighted, +starved souls of its people. This is the real object-lesson of this war, +its unforgettable information. And this war's true mission, disengaged +from the economic origins of that contest, from doors open or shut, from +the fields of Korea for Russian wheat or Japanese rice, from the +ownership of ice-free ports and the command of the waters of the East--its +true mission was to lay a ghost. It has accomplished it. Whether +Kuropatkin was incapable or unlucky, whether or not Russia issuing next +year, or the year after next, from behind a rampart of piled-up corpses +will win or lose a fresh campaign, are minor considerations. The task of +Japan is done, the mission accomplished; the ghost of Russia's might is +laid. Only Europe, accustomed so long to the presence of that portent, +seems unable to comprehend that, as in the fables of our childhood, the +twelve strokes of the hour have rung, the cock has crowed, the apparition +has vanished--never to haunt again this world which has been used to gaze +at it with vague dread and many misgivings. + +It was a fascination. And the hallucination still lasts as inexplicable +in its persistence as in its duration. It seems so unaccountable, that +the doubt arises as to the sincerity of all that talk as to what Russia +will or will not do, whether it will raise or not another army, whether +it will bury the Japanese in Manchuria under seventy millions of +sacrificed peasants' caps (as her Press boasted a little more than a year +ago) or give up to Japan that jewel of her crown, Saghalien, together +with some other things; whether, perchance, as an interesting +alternative, it will make peace on the Amur in order to make war beyond +the Oxus. + +All these speculations (with many others) have appeared gravely in print; +and if they have been gravely considered by only one reader out of each +hundred, there must be something subtly noxious to the human brain in the +composition of newspaper ink; or else it is that the large page, the +columns of words, the leaded headings, exalt the mind into a state of +feverish credulity. The printed page of the Press makes a sort of still +uproar, taking from men both the power to reflect and the faculty of +genuine feeling; leaving them only the artificially created need of +having something exciting to talk about. + +The truth is that the Russia of our fathers, of our childhood, of our +middle-age; the testamentary Russia of Peter the Great--who imagined that +all the nations were delivered into the hand of Tsardom--can do nothing. +It can do nothing because it does not exist. It has vanished for ever at +last, and as yet there is no new Russia to take the place of that ill- +omened creation, which, being a fantasy of a madman's brain, could in +reality be nothing else than a figure out of a nightmare seated upon a +monument of fear and oppression. + +The true greatness of a State does not spring from such a contemptible +source. It is a matter of logical growth, of faith and courage. Its +inspiration springs from the constructive instinct of the people, +governed by the strong hand of a collective conscience and voiced in the +wisdom and counsel of men who seldom reap the reward of gratitude. Many +States have been powerful, but, perhaps, none have been truly great--as +yet. That the position of a State in reference to the moral methods of +its development can be seen only historically, is true. Perhaps mankind +has not lived long enough for a comprehensive view of any particular +case. Perhaps no one will ever live long enough; and perhaps this earth +shared out amongst our clashing ambitions by the anxious arrangements of +statesmen will come to an end before we attain the felicity of greeting +with unanimous applause the perfect fruition of a great State. It is +even possible that we are destined for another sort of bliss altogether: +that sort which consists in being perpetually duped by false appearances. +But whatever political illusion the future may hold out to our fear or +our admiration, there will be none, it is safe to say, which in the +magnitude of anti-humanitarian effect will equal that phantom now driven +out of the world by the thunder of thousands of guns; none that in its +retreat will cling with an equally shameless sincerity to more unworthy +supports: to the moral corruption and mental darkness of slavery, to the +mere brute force of numbers. + +This very ignominy of infatuation should make clear to men's feelings and +reason that the downfall of Russia's might is unavoidable. Spectral it +lived and spectral it disappears without leaving a memory of a single +generous deed, of a single service rendered--even involuntarily--to the +polity of nations. Other despotisms there have been, but none whose +origin was so grimly fantastic in its baseness, and the beginning of +whose end was so gruesomely ignoble. What is amazing is the myth of its +irresistible strength which is dying so hard. + +* * * * * + +Considered historically, Russia's influence in Europe seems the most +baseless thing in the world; a sort of convention invented by +diplomatists for some dark purpose of their own, one would suspect, if +the lack of grasp upon the realities of any given situation were not the +main characteristic of the management of international relations. A +glance back at the last hundred years shows the invariable, one may say +the logical, powerlessness of Russia. As a military power it has never +achieved by itself a single great thing. It has been indeed able to +repel an ill-considered invasion, but only by having recourse to the +extreme methods of desperation. In its attacks upon its specially +selected victim this giant always struck as if with a withered right +hand. All the campaigns against Turkey prove this, from Potemkin's time +to the last Eastern war in 1878, entered upon with every advantage of a +well-nursed prestige and a carefully fostered fanaticism. Even the half- +armed were always too much for the might of Russia, or, rather, of the +Tsardom. It was victorious only against the practically disarmed, as, in +regard to its ideal of territorial expansion, a glance at a map will +prove sufficiently. As an ally, Russia has been always unprofitable, +taking her share in the defeats rather than in the victories of her +friends, but always pushing her own claims with the arrogance of an +arbiter of military success. She has been unable to help to any purpose +a single principle to hold its own, not even the principle of authority +and legitimism which Nicholas the First had declared so haughtily to rest +under his special protection; just as Nicholas the Second has tried to +make the maintenance of peace on earth his own exclusive affair. And the +first Nicholas was a good Russian; he held the belief in the sacredness +of his realm with such an intensity of faith that he could not survive +the first shock of doubt. Rightly envisaged, the Crimean war was the end +of what remained of absolutism and legitimism in Europe. It threw the +way open for the liberation of Italy. The war in Manchuria makes an end +of absolutism in Russia, whoever has got to perish from the shock behind +a rampart of dead ukases, manifestoes, and rescripts. In the space of +fifty years the self-appointed Apostle of Absolutism and the +self-appointed Apostle of Peace, the Augustus and the Augustulus of the +_regime_ that was wont to speak contemptuously to European Foreign +Offices in the beautiful French phrases of Prince Gorchakov, have fallen +victims, each after his kind, to their shadowy and dreadful familiar, to +the phantom, part ghoul, part Djinn, part Old Man of the Sea, with beak +and claws and a double head, looking greedily both east and west on the +confines of two continents. + +That nobody through all that time penetrated the true nature of the +monster it is impossible to believe. But of the many who must have seen, +all were either too modest, too cautious, perhaps too discreet, to speak; +or else were too insignificant to be heard or believed. Yet not all. + +In the very early sixties, Prince Bismarck, then about to leave his post +of Prussian Minister in St. Petersburg, called--so the story goes--upon +another distinguished diplomatist. After some talk upon the general +situation, the future Chancellor of the German Empire remarked that it +was his practice to resume the impressions he had carried out of every +country where he had made a long stay, in a short sentence, which he +caused to be engraved upon some trinket. "I am leaving this country now, +and this is what I bring away from it," he continued, taking off his +finger a new ring to show to his colleague the inscription inside: "La +Russie, c'est le neant." + +Prince Bismarck had the truth of the matter and was neither too modest +nor too discreet to speak out. Certainly he was not afraid of not being +believed. Yet he did not shout his knowledge from the house-tops. He +meant to have the phantom as his accomplice in an enterprise which has +set the clock of peace back for many a year. + +He had his way. The German Empire has been an accomplished fact for more +than a third of a century--a great and dreadful legacy left to the world +by the ill-omened phantom of Russia's might. + +It is that phantom which is disappearing now--unexpectedly, +astonishingly, as if by a touch of that wonderful magic for which the +East has always been famous. The pretence of belief in its existence +will no longer answer anybody's purposes (now Prince Bismarck is dead) +unless the purposes of the writers of sensational paragraphs as to this +_Neant_ making an armed descent upon the plains of India. That sort of +folly would be beneath notice if it did not distract attention from the +real problem created for Europe by a war in the Far East. + +For good or evil in the working out of her destiny, Russia is bound to +remain a _Neant_ for many long years, in a more even than a Bismarckian +sense. The very fear of this spectre being gone, it behoves us to +consider its legacy--the fact (no phantom that) accomplished in Central +Europe by its help and connivance. + +The German Empire may feel at bottom the loss of an old accomplice always +amenable to the confidential whispers of a bargain; but in the first +instance it cannot but rejoice at the fundamental weakening of a possible +obstacle to its instincts of territorial expansion. There is a removal +of that latent feeling of restraint which the presence of a powerful +neighbour, however implicated with you in a sense of common guilt, is +bound to inspire. The common guilt of the two Empires is defined +precisely by their frontier line running through the Polish provinces. +Without indulging in excessive feelings of indignation at that country's +partition, or going so far as to believe--with a late French +politician--in the "immanente justice des choses," it is clear that a +material situation, based upon an essentially immoral transaction, +contains the germ of fatal differences in the temperament of the two +partners in iniquity--whatever the iniquity is. Germany has been the +evil counsellor of Russia on all the questions of her Polish problem. +Always urging the adoption of the most repressive measures with a +perfectly logical duplicity, Prince Bismarck's Empire has taken care to +couple the neighbourly offers of military assistance with merciless +advice. The thought of the Polish provinces accepting a frank +reconciliation with a humanised Russia and bringing the weight of +homogeneous loyalty within a few miles of Berlin, has been always +intensely distasteful to the arrogant Germanising tendencies of the other +partner in iniquity. And, besides, the way to the Baltic provinces leads +over the Niemen and over the Vistula. + +And now, when there is a possibility of serious internal disturbances +destroying the sort of order autocracy has kept in Russia, the road over +these rivers is seen wearing a more inviting aspect. At any moment the +pretext of armed intervention may be found in a revolutionary outbreak +provoked by Socialists, perhaps--but at any rate by the political +immaturity of the enlightened classes and by the political barbarism of +the Russian people. The throes of Russian resurrection will be long and +painful. This is not the place to speculate upon the nature of these +convulsions, but there must be some violent break-up of the lamentable +tradition, a shattering of the social, of the administrative--certainly +of the territorial--unity. + +Voices have been heard saying that the time for reforms in Russia is +already past. This is the superficial view of the more profound truth +that for Russia there has never been such a time within the memory of +mankind. It is impossible to initiate a rational scheme of reform upon a +phase of blind absolutism; and in Russia there has never been anything +else to which the faintest tradition could, after ages of error, go back +as to a parting of ways. + +In Europe the old monarchical principle stands justified in its +historical struggle with the growth of political liberty by the evolution +of the idea of nationality as we see it concreted at the present time; by +the inception of that wider solidarity grouping together around the +standard of monarchical power these larger, agglomerations of mankind. +This service of unification, creating close-knit communities possessing +the ability, the will, and the power to pursue a common ideal, has +prepared the ground for the advent of a still larger understanding: for +the solidarity of Europeanism, which must be the next step towards the +advent of Concord and Justice; an advent that, however delayed by the +fatal worship of force and the errors of national selfishness, has been, +and remains, the only possible goal of our progress. + +The conceptions of legality, of larger patriotism, of national duties and +aspirations have grown under the shadow of the old monarchies of Europe, +which were the creations of historical necessity. There were seeds of +wisdom in their very mistakes and abuses. They had a past and a future; +they were human. But under the shadow of Russian autocracy nothing could +grow. Russian autocracy succeeded to nothing; it had no historical past, +and it cannot hope for a historical future. It can only end. By no +industry of investigation, by no fantastic stretch of benevolence, can it +be presented as a phase of development through which a Society, a State, +must pass on the way to the full consciousness of its destiny. It lies +outside the stream of progress. This despotism has been utterly +un-European. Neither has it been Asiatic in its nature. Oriental +despotisms belong to the history of mankind; they have left their trace +on our minds and our imagination by their splendour, by their culture, by +their art, by the exploits of great conquerors. The record of their rise +and decay has an intellectual value; they are in their origins and their +course the manifestations of human needs, the instruments of racial +temperament, of catastrophic force, of faith and fanaticism. The Russian +autocracy as we see it now is a thing apart. It is impossible to assign +to it any rational origin in the vices, the misfortunes, the necessities, +or the aspirations of mankind. That despotism has neither an European +nor an Oriental parentage; more, it seems to have no root either in the +institutions or the follies of this earth. What strikes one with a sort +of awe is just this something inhuman in its character. It is like a +visitation, like a curse from Heaven falling in the darkness of ages upon +the immense plains of forest and steppe lying dumbly on the confines of +two continents: a true desert harbouring no Spirit either of the East or +of the West. + +This pitiful fate of a country held by an evil spell, suffering from an +awful visitation for which the responsibility cannot be traced either to +her sins or her follies, has made Russia as a nation so difficult to +understand by Europe. From the very first ghastly dawn of her existence +as a State she had to breathe the atmosphere of despotism; she found +nothing but the arbitrary will of an obscure autocrat at the beginning +and end of her organisation. Hence arises her impenetrability to +whatever is true in Western thought. Western thought, when it crosses +her frontier, falls under the spell of her autocracy and becomes a +noxious parody of itself. Hence the contradictions, the riddles of her +national life, which are looked upon with such curiosity by the rest of +the world. The curse had entered her very soul; autocracy, and nothing +else in the world, has moulded her institutions, and with the poison of +slavery drugged the national temperament into the apathy of a hopeless +fatalism. It seems to have gone into the blood, tainting every mental +activity in its source by a half-mystical, insensate, fascinating +assertion of purity and holiness. The Government of Holy Russia, +arrogating to itself the supreme power to torment and slaughter the +bodies of its subjects like a God-sent scourge, has been most cruel to +those whom it allowed to live under the shadow of its dispensation. The +worst crime against humanity of that system we behold now crouching at +bay behind vast heaps of mangled corpses is the ruthless destruction of +innumerable minds. The greatest horror of the world--madness--walked +faithfully in its train. Some of the best intellects of Russia, after +struggling in vain against the spell, ended by throwing themselves at the +feet of that hopeless despotism as a giddy man leaps into an abyss. An +attentive survey of Russia's literature, of her Church, of her +administration and the cross-currents of her thought, must end in the +verdict that the Russia of to-day has not the right to give her voice on +a single question touching the future of humanity, because from the very +inception of her being the brutal destruction of dignity, of truth, of +rectitude, of all that is faithful in human nature has been made the +imperative condition of her existence. The great governmental secret of +that imperium which Prince Bismarck had the insight and the courage to +call _Le Neant_, has been the extirpation of every intellectual hope. To +pronounce in the face of such a past the word Evolution, which is +precisely the expression of the highest intellectual hope, is a gruesome +pleasantry. There can be no evolution out of a grave. Another word of +less scientific sound has been very much pronounced of late in connection +with Russia's future, a word of more vague import, a word of dread as +much as of hope--Revolution. + +In the face of the events of the last four months, this word has sprung +instinctively, as it were, on grave lips, and has been heard with solemn +forebodings. More or less consciously, Europe is preparing herself for a +spectacle of much violence and perhaps of an inspiring nobility of +greatness. And there will be nothing of what she expects. She will see +neither the anticipated character of the violence, nor yet any signs of +generous greatness. Her expectations, more or less vaguely expressed, +give the measure of her ignorance of that _Neant_ which for so many years +had remained hidden behind this phantom of invincible armies. + +_Neant_! In a way, yes! And yet perhaps Prince Bismarck has let himself +be led away by the seduction of a good phrase into the use of an inexact +form. The form of his judgment had to be pithy, striking, engraved +within a ring. If he erred, then, no doubt, he erred deliberately. The +saying was near enough the truth to serve, and perhaps he did not want to +destroy utterly by a more severe definition the prestige of the sham that +could not deceive his genius. Prince Bismarck has been really +complimentary to the useful phantom of the autocratic might. There is an +awe-inspiring idea of infinity conveyed in the word _Neant_--and in +Russia there is no idea. She is not a _Neant_, she is and has been +simply the negation of everything worth living for. She is not an empty +void, she is a yawning chasm open between East and West; a bottomless +abyss that has swallowed up every hope of mercy, every aspiration towards +personal dignity, towards freedom, towards knowledge, every ennobling +desire of the heart, every redeeming whisper of conscience. Those that +have peered into that abyss, where the dreams of Panslavism, of universal +conquest, mingled with the hate and contempt for Western ideas, drift +impotently like shapes of mist, know well that it is bottomless; that +there is in it no ground for anything that could in the remotest degree +serve even the lowest interests of mankind--and certainly no ground ready +for a revolution. The sin of the old European monarchies was not the +absolutism inherent in every form of government; it was the inability to +alter the forms of their legality, grown narrow and oppressive with the +march of time. Every form of legality is bound to degenerate into +oppression, and the legality in the forms of monarchical institutions +sooner, perhaps, than any other. It has not been the business of +monarchies to be adaptive from within. With the mission of uniting and +consolidating the particular ambitions and interests of feudalism in +favour of a larger conception of a State, of giving self-consciousness, +force and nationality to the scattered energies of thought and action, +they were fated to lag behind the march of ideas they had themselves set +in motion in a direction they could neither understand nor approve. Yet, +for all that, the thrones still remain, and what is more significant, +perhaps, some of the dynasties, too, have survived. The revolutions of +European States have never been in the nature of absolute protests _en +masse_ against the monarchical principle; they were the uprising of the +people against the oppressive degeneration of legality. But there never +has been any legality in Russia; she is a negation of that as of +everything else that has its root in reason or conscience. The ground of +every revolution had to be intellectually prepared. A revolution is a +short cut in the rational development of national needs in response to +the growth of world-wide ideals. It is conceivably possible for a +monarch of genius to put himself at the head of a revolution without +ceasing to be the king of his people. For the autocracy of Holy Russia +the only conceivable self-reform is--suicide. + +The same relentless fate holds in its grip the all-powerful ruler and his +helpless people. Wielders of a power purchased by an unspeakable +baseness of subjection to the Khans of the Tartar horde, the Princes of +Russia who, in their heart of hearts had come in time to regard +themselves as superior to every monarch of Europe, have never risen to be +the chiefs of a nation. Their authority has never been sanctioned by +popular tradition, by ideas of intelligent loyalty, of devotion, of +political necessity, of simple expediency, or even by the power of the +sword. In whatever form of upheaval autocratic Russia is to find her +end, it can never be a revolution fruitful of moral consequences to +mankind. It cannot be anything else but a rising of slaves. It is a +tragic circumstance that the only thing one can wish to that people who +had never seen face to face either law, order, justice, right, truth +about itself or the rest of the world; who had known nothing outside the +capricious will of its irresponsible masters, is that it should find in +the approaching hour of need, not an organiser or a law-giver, with the +wisdom of a Lycurgus or a Solon for their service, but at least the force +of energy and desperation in some as yet unknown Spartacus. + +A brand of hopeless mental and moral inferiority is set upon Russian +achievements; and the coming events of her internal changes, however +appalling they may be in their magnitude, will be nothing more impressive +than the convulsions of a colossal body. As her boasted military force +that, corrupt in its origin, has ever struck no other but faltering +blows, so her soul, kept benumbed by her temporal and spiritual master +with the poison of tyranny and superstition, will find itself on +awakening possessed of no language, a monstrous full-grown child having +first to learn the ways of living thought and articulate speech. It is +safe to say tyranny, assuming a thousand protean shapes, will remain +clinging to her struggles for a long time before her blind multitudes +succeed at last in trampling her out of existence under their millions of +bare feet. + +That would be the beginning. What is to come after? The conquest of +freedom to call your soul your own is only the first step on the road to +excellence. We, in Europe, have gone a step or two further, have had the +time to forget how little that freedom means. To Russia it must seem +everything. A prisoner shut up in a noisome dungeon concentrates all his +hope and desire on the moment of stepping out beyond the gates. It +appears to him pregnant with an immense and final importance; whereas +what is important is the spirit in which he will draw the first breath of +freedom, the counsels he will hear, the hands he may find extended, the +endless days of toil that must follow, wherein he will have to build his +future with no other material but what he can find within himself. + +It would be vain for Russia to hope for the support and counsel of +collective wisdom. Since 1870 (as a distinguished statesman of the old +tradition disconsolately exclaimed) "il n'y a plus d'Europe!" There is, +indeed, no Europe. The idea of a Europe united in the solidarity of her +dynasties, which for a moment seemed to dawn on the horizon of the Vienna +Congress through the subsiding dust of Napoleonic alarums and excursions, +has been extinguished by the larger glamour of less restraining ideals. +Instead of the doctrines of solidarity it was the doctrine of +nationalities much more favourable to spoliations that came to the front, +and since its greatest triumphs at Sadowa and Sedan there is no Europe. +Meanwhile till the time comes when there will be no frontiers, there are +alliances so shamelessly based upon the exigencies of suspicion and +mistrust that their cohesive force waxes and wanes with every year, +almost with the event of every passing month. This is the atmosphere +Russia will find when the last rampart of tyranny has been beaten down. +But what hands, what voices will she find on coming out into the light of +day? An ally she has yet who more than any other of Russia's allies has +found that it had parted with lots of solid substance in exchange for a +shadow. It is true that the shadow was indeed the mightiest, the darkest +that the modern world had ever known--and the most overbearing. But it +is fading now, and the tone of truest anxiety as to what is to take its +place will come, no doubt, from that and no other direction, and no +doubt, also, it will have that note of generosity which even in the +moments of greatest aberration is seldom wanting in the voice of the +French people. + +Two neighbours Russia will find at her door. Austria, traditionally +unaggressive whenever her hand is not forced, ruled by a dynasty of +uncertain future, weakened by her duality, can only speak to her in an +uncertain, bilingual phrase. Prussia, grown in something like forty +years from an almost pitiful dependant into a bullying friend and evil +counsellor of Russia's masters, may, indeed, hasten to extend a strong +hand to the weakness of her exhausted body, but if so it will be only +with the intention of tearing away the long-coveted part of her +substance. + +Pan-Germanism is by no means a shape of mists, and Germany is anything +but a _Neant_ where thought and effort are likely to lose themselves +without sound or trace. It is a powerful and voracious organisation, +full of unscrupulous self-confidence, whose appetite for aggrandisement +will only be limited by the power of helping itself to the severed +members of its friends and neighbours. The era of wars so eloquently +denounced by the old Republicans as the peculiar blood guilt of dynastic +ambitions is by no means over yet. They will be fought out differently, +with lesser frequency, with an increased bitterness and the savage tooth- +and-claw obstinacy of a struggle for existence. They will make us regret +the time of dynastic ambitions, with their human absurdity moderated by +prudence and even by shame, by the fear of personal responsibility and +the regard paid to certain forms of conventional decency. For, if the +monarchs of Europe have been derided for addressing each other as +"brother" in autograph communications, that relationship was at least as +effective as any form of brotherhood likely to be established between the +rival nations of this continent, which, we are assured on all hands, is +the heritage of democracy. In the ceremonial brotherhood of monarchs the +reality of blood-ties, for what little it is worth, acted often as a drag +on unscrupulous desires of glory or greed. Besides, there was always the +common danger of exasperated peoples, and some respect for each other's +divine right. No leader of a democracy, without other ancestry but the +sudden shout of a multitude, and debarred by the very condition of his +power from even thinking of a direct heir, will have any interest in +calling brother the leader of another democracy--a chief as fatherless +and heirless as himself. + +The war of 1870, brought about by the third Napoleon's half-generous, +half-selfish adoption of the principle of nationalities, was the first +war characterised by a special intensity of hate, by a new note in the +tune of an old song for which we may thank the Teutonic thoroughness. Was +it not that excellent bourgeoise, Princess Bismarck (to keep only to +great examples), who was so righteously anxious to see men, women and +children--emphatically the children, too--of the abominable French nation +massacred off the face of the earth? This illustration of the new war- +temper is artlessly revealed in the prattle of the amiable Busch, the +Chancellor's pet "reptile" of the Press. And this was supposed to be a +war for an idea! Too much, however, should not be made of that good +wife's and mother's sentiments any more than of the good First Emperor +William's tears, shed so abundantly after every battle, by letter, +telegram, and otherwise, during the course of the same war, before a dumb +and shamefaced continent. These were merely the expressions of the +simplicity of a nation which more than any other has a tendency to run +into the grotesque. There is worse to come. + +To-day, in the fierce grapple of two nations of different race, the short +era of national wars seems about to close. No war will be waged for an +idea. The "noxious idle aristocracies" of yesterday fought without +malice for an occupation, for the honour, for the fun of the thing. The +virtuous, industrious democratic States of to-morrow may yet be reduced +to fighting for a crust of dry bread, with all the hate, ferocity, and +fury that must attach to the vital importance of such an issue. The +dreams sanguine humanitarians raised almost to ecstasy about the year +fifty of the last century by the moving sight of the Crystal +Palace--crammed full with that variegated rubbish which it seems to be +the bizarre fate of humanity to produce for the benefit of a few +employers of labour--have vanished as quickly as they had arisen. The +golden hopes of peace have in a single night turned to dead leaves in +every drawer of every benevolent theorist's writing table. A swift +disenchantment overtook the incredible infatuation which could put its +trust in the peaceful nature of industrial and commercial competition. + +Industrialism and commercialism--wearing high-sounding names in many +languages (_Welt-politik_ may serve for one instance) picking up coins +behind the severe and disdainful figure of science whose giant strides +have widened for us the horizon of the universe by some few inches--stand +ready, almost eager, to appeal to the sword as soon as the globe of the +earth has shrunk beneath our growing numbers by another ell or so. And +democracy, which has elected to pin its faith to the supremacy of +material interests, will have to fight their battles to the bitter end, +on a mere pittance--unless, indeed, some statesman of exceptional ability +and overwhelming prestige succeeds in carrying through an international +understanding for the delimitation of spheres of trade all over the +earth, on the model of the territorial spheres of influence marked in +Africa to keep the competitors for the privilege of improving the nigger +(as a buying machine) from flying prematurely at each other's throats. + +This seems the only expedient at hand for the temporary maintenance of +European peace, with its alliances based on mutual distrust, preparedness +for war as its ideal, and the fear of wounds, luckily stronger, so far, +than the pinch of hunger, its only guarantee. The true peace of the +world will be a place of refuge much less like a beleaguered fortress and +more, let us hope, in the nature of an Inviolable Temple. It will be +built on less perishable foundations than those of material interests. +But it must be confessed that the architectural aspect of the universal +city remains as yet inconceivable--that the very ground for its erection +has not been cleared of the jungle. + +Never before in history has the right of war been more fully admitted in +the rounded periods of public speeches, in books, in public prints, in +all the public works of peace, culminating in the establishment of the +Hague Tribunal--that solemnly official recognition of the Earth as a +House of Strife. To him whose indignation is qualified by a measure of +hope and affection, the efforts of mankind to work its own salvation +present a sight of alarming comicality. After clinging for ages to the +steps of the heavenly throne, they are now, without much modifying their +attitude, trying with touching ingenuity to steal one by one the +thunderbolts of their Jupiter. They have removed war from the list of +Heaven-sent visitations that could only be prayed against; they have +erased its name from the supplication against the wrath of war, +pestilence, and famine, as it is found in the litanies of the Roman +Catholic Church; they have dragged the scourge down from the skies and +have made it into a calm and regulated institution. At first sight the +change does not seem for the better. Jove's thunderbolt looks a most +dangerous plaything in the hands of the people. But a solemnly +established institution begins to grow old at once in the discussion, +abuse, worship, and execration of men. It grows obsolete, odious, and +intolerable; it stands fatally condemned to an unhonoured old age. + +Therein lies the best hope of advanced thought, and the best way to help +its prospects is to provide in the fullest, frankest way for the +conditions of the present day. War is one of its conditions; it is its +principal condition. It lies at the heart of every question agitating +the fears and hopes of a humanity divided against itself. The succeeding +ages have changed nothing except the watchwords of the armies. The +intellectual stage of mankind being as yet in its infancy, and States, +like most individuals, having but a feeble and imperfect consciousness of +the worth and force of the inner life, the need of making their existence +manifest to themselves is determined in the direction of physical +activity. The idea of ceasing to grow in territory, in strength, in +wealth, in influence--in anything but wisdom and self-knowledge--is +odious to them as the omen of the end. Action, in which is to be found +the illusion of a mastered destiny, can alone satisfy our uneasy vanity +and lay to rest the haunting fear of the future--a sentiment concealed, +indeed, but proving its existence by the force it has, when invoked, to +stir the passions of a nation. It will be long before we have learned +that in the great darkness before us there is nothing that we need fear. +Let us act lest we perish--is the cry. And the only form of action open +to a State can be of no other than aggressive nature. + +There are many kinds of aggressions, though the sanction of them is one +and the same--the magazine rifle of the latest pattern. In preparation +for or against that form of action the States of Europe are spending now +such moments of uneasy leisure as they can snatch from the labours of +factory and counting-house. + +Never before has war received so much homage at the lips of men, and +reigned with less disputed sway in their minds. It has harnessed science +to its gun-carriages, it has enriched a few respectable manufacturers, +scattered doles of food and raiment amongst a few thousand skilled +workmen, devoured the first youth of whole generations, and reaped its +harvest of countless corpses. It has perverted the intelligence of men, +women, and children, and has made the speeches of Emperors, Kings, +Presidents, and Ministers monotonous with ardent protestations of +fidelity to peace. Indeed, war has made peace altogether its own, it has +modelled it on its own image: a martial, overbearing, war-lord sort of +peace, with a mailed fist, and turned-up moustaches, ringing with the din +of grand manoeuvres, eloquent with allusions to glorious feats of arms; +it has made peace so magnificent as to be almost as expensive to keep up +as itself. It has sent out apostles of its own, who at one time went +about (mostly in newspapers) preaching the gospel of the mystic sanctity +of its sacrifices, and the regenerating power of spilt blood, to the poor +in mind--whose name is legion. + +It has been observed that in the course of earthly greatness a day of +culminating triumph is often paid for by a morrow of sudden extinction. +Let us hope it is so. Yet the dawn of that day of retribution may be a +long time breaking above a dark horizon. War is with us now; and, +whether this one ends soon or late, war will be with us again. And it is +the way of true wisdom for men and States to take account of things as +they are. + +Civilisation has done its little best by our sensibilities for whose +growth it is responsible. It has managed to remove the sights and sounds +of battlefields away from our doorsteps. But it cannot be expected to +achieve the feat always and under every variety of circumstance. Some +day it must fail, and we shall have then a wealth of appallingly +unpleasant sensations brought home to us with painful intimacy. It is +not absurd to suppose that whatever war comes to us next it will _not_ be +a distant war waged by Russia either beyond the Amur or beyond the Oxus. + +The Japanese armies have laid that ghost for ever, because the Russia of +the future will not, for the reasons explained above, be the Russia of to- +day. It will not have the same thoughts, resentments and aims. It is +even a question whether it will preserve its gigantic frame unaltered and +unbroken. All speculation loses itself in the magnitude of the events +made possible by the defeat of an autocracy whose only shadow of a title +to existence was the invincible power of military conquest. That +autocratic Russia will have a miserable end in harmony with its base +origin and inglorious life does not seem open to doubt. The problem of +the immediate future is posed not by the eventual manner but by the +approaching fact of its disappearance. + +The Japanese armies, in laying the oppressive ghost, have not only +accomplished what will be recognised historically as an important mission +in the world's struggle against all forms of evil, but have also created +a situation. They have created a situation in the East which they are +competent to manage by themselves; and in doing this they have brought +about a change in the condition of the West with which Europe is not well +prepared to deal. The common ground of concord, good faith and justice +is not sufficient to establish an action upon; since the conscience of +but very few men amongst us, and of no single Western nation as yet, will +brook the restraint of abstract ideas as against the fascination of a +material advantage. And eagle-eyed wisdom alone cannot take the lead of +human action, which in its nature must for ever remain short-sighted. The +trouble of the civilised world is the want of a common conservative +principle abstract enough to give the impulse, practical enough to form +the rallying point of international action tending towards the restraint +of particular ambitions. Peace tribunals instituted for the greater +glory of war will not replace it. Whether such a principle exists--who +can say? If it does not, then it ought to be invented. A sage with a +sense of humour and a heart of compassion should set about it without +loss of time, and a solemn prophet full of words and fire ought to be +given the task of preparing the minds. So far there is no trace of such +a principle anywhere in sight; even its plausible imitations (never very +effective) have disappeared long ago before the doctrine of national +aspirations. _Il n'y a plus d'Europe_--there is only an armed and +trading continent, the home of slowly maturing economical contests for +life and death and of loudly proclaimed world-wide ambitions. There are +also other ambitions not so loud, but deeply rooted in the envious +acquisitive temperament of the last corner amongst the great Powers of +the Continent, whose feet are not exactly in the ocean--not yet--and +whose head is very high up--in Pomerania, the breeding place of such +precious Grenadiers that Prince Bismarck (whom it is a pleasure to quote) +would not have given the bones of one of them for the settlement of the +old Eastern Question. But times have changed, since, by way of keeping +up, I suppose, some old barbaric German rite, the faithful servant of the +Hohenzollerns was buried alive to celebrate the accession of a new +Emperor. + +Already the voice of surmises has been heard hinting tentatively at a +possible re-grouping of European Powers. The alliance of the three +Empires is supposed possible. And it may be possible. The myth of +Russia's power is dying very hard--hard enough for that combination to +take place--such is the fascination that a discredited show of numbers +will still exercise upon the imagination of a people trained to the +worship of force. Germany may be willing to lend its support to a +tottering autocracy for the sake of an undisputed first place, and of a +preponderating voice in the settlement of every question in that south- +east of Europe which merges into Asia. No principle being involved in +such an alliance of mere expediency, it would never be allowed to stand +in the way of Germany's other ambitions. The fall of autocracy would +bring its restraint automatically to an end. Thus it may be believed +that the support Russian despotism may get from its once humble friend +and client will not be stamped by that thoroughness which is supposed to +be the mark of German superiority. Russia weakened down to the second +place, or Russia eclipsed altogether during the throes of her +regeneration, will answer equally well the plans of German policy--which +are many and various and often incredible, though the aim of them all is +the same: aggrandisement of territory and influence, with no regard to +right and justice, either in the East or in the West. For that and no +other is the true note of your _Welt-politik_ which desires to live. + +The German eagle with a Prussian head looks all round the horizon, not so +much for something to do that would count for good in the records of the +earth, as simply for something good to get. He gazes upon the land and +upon the sea with the same covetous steadiness, for he has become of late +a maritime eagle, and has learned to box the compass. He gazes north and +south, and east and west, and is inclined to look intemperately upon the +waters of the Mediterranean when they are blue. The disappearance of the +Russian phantom has given a foreboding of unwonted freedom to the _Welt- +politik_. According to the national tendency this assumption of Imperial +impulses would run into the grotesque were it not for the spikes of the +_pickelhaubes_ peeping out grimly from behind. Germany's attitude proves +that no peace for the earth can be found in the expansion of material +interests which she seems to have adopted exclusively as her only aim, +ideal, and watchword. For the use of those who gaze half-unbelieving at +the passing away of the Russian phantom, part Ghoul, part Djinn, part Old +Man of the Sea, and wait half-doubting for the birth of a nation's soul +in this age which knows no miracles, the once-famous saying of poor +Gambetta, tribune of the people (who was simple and believed in the +"immanent justice of things"), may be adapted in the shape of a warning +that, so far as a future of liberty, concord, and justice is concerned: +"Le Prussianisme--voila l'ennemi!" + + + +THE CRIME OF PARTITION--1919 + + +At the end of the eighteenth century, when the partition of Poland had +become an accomplished fact, the world qualified it at once as a crime. +This strong condemnation proceeded, of course, from the West of Europe; +the Powers of the Centre, Prussia and Austria, were not likely to admit +that this spoliation fell into the category of acts morally reprehensible +and carrying the taint of anti-social guilt. As to Russia, the third +party to the crime, and the originator of the scheme, she had no national +conscience at the time. The will of its rulers was always accepted by +the people as the expression of an omnipotence derived directly from God. +As an act of mere conquest the best excuse for the partition lay simply +in the fact that it happened to be possible; there was the plunder and +there was the opportunity to get hold of it. Catherine the Great looked +upon this extension of her dominions with a cynical satisfaction. Her +political argument that the destruction of Poland meant the repression of +revolutionary ideas and the checking of the spread of Jacobinism in +Europe was a characteristically impudent pretence. There may have been +minds here and there amongst the Russians that perceived, or perhaps only +felt, that by the annexation of the greater part of the Polish Republic, +Russia approached nearer to the comity of civilised nations and ceased, +at least territorially, to be an Asiatic Power. + +It was only after the partition of Poland that Russia began to play a +great part in Europe. To such statesmen as she had then that act of +brigandage must have appeared inspired by great political wisdom. The +King of Prussia, faithful to the ruling principle of his life, wished +simply to aggrandise his dominions at a much smaller cost and at much +less risk than he could have done in any other direction; for at that +time Poland was perfectly defenceless from a material point of view, and +more than ever, perhaps, inclined to put its faith in humanitarian +illusions. Morally, the Republic was in a state of ferment and +consequent weakness, which so often accompanies the period of social +reform. The strength arrayed against her was just then overwhelming; I +mean the comparatively honest (because open) strength of armed forces. +But, probably from innate inclination towards treachery, Frederick of +Prussia selected for himself the part of falsehood and deception. +Appearing on the scene in the character of a friend he entered +deliberately into a treaty of alliance with the Republic, and then, +before the ink was dry, tore it up in brazen defiance of the commonest +decency, which must have been extremely gratifying to his natural tastes. + +As to Austria, it shed diplomatic tears over the transaction. They +cannot be called crocodile tears, insomuch that they were in a measure +sincere. They arose from a vivid perception that Austria's allotted +share of the spoil could never compensate her for the accession of +strength and territory to the other two Powers. Austria did not really +want an extension of territory at the cost of Poland. She could not hope +to improve her frontier in that way, and economically she had no need of +Galicia, a province whose natural resources were undeveloped and whose +salt mines did not arouse her cupidity because she had salt mines of her +own. No doubt the democratic complexion of Polish institutions was very +distasteful to the conservative monarchy; Austrian statesmen did see at +the time that the real danger to the principle of autocracy was in the +West, in France, and that all the forces of Central Europe would be +needed for its suppression. But the movement towards a _partage_ on the +part of Russia and Prussia was too definite to be resisted, and Austria +had to follow their lead in the destruction of a State which she would +have preferred to preserve as a possible ally against Prussian and +Russian ambitions. It may be truly said that the destruction of Poland +secured the safety of the French Revolution. For when in 1795 the crime +was consummated, the Revolution had turned the corner and was in a state +to defend itself against the forces of reaction. + +In the second half of the eighteenth century there were two centres of +liberal ideas on the continent of Europe: France and Poland. On an +impartial survey one may say without exaggeration that then France was +relatively every bit as weak as Poland; even, perhaps, more so. But +France's geographical position made her much less vulnerable. She had no +powerful neighbours on her frontier; a decayed Spain in the south and a +conglomeration of small German Principalities on the east were her happy +lot. The only States which dreaded the contamination of the new +principles and had enough power to combat it were Prussia, Austria, and +Russia, and they had another centre of forbidden ideas to deal with in +defenceless Poland, unprotected by nature, and offering an immediate +satisfaction to their cupidity. They made their choice, and the untold +sufferings of a nation which would not die was the price exacted by fate +for the triumph of revolutionary ideals. + +Thus even a crime may become a moral agent by the lapse of time and the +course of history. Progress leaves its dead by the way, for progress is +only a great adventure as its leaders and chiefs know very well in their +hearts. It is a march into an undiscovered country; and in such an +enterprise the victims do not count. As an emotional outlet for the +oratory of freedom it was convenient enough to remember the Crime now and +then: the Crime being the murder of a State and the carving of its body +into three pieces. There was really nothing to do but to drop a few +tears and a few flowers of rhetoric upon the grave. But the spirit of +the nation refused to rest therein. It haunted the territories of the +Old Republic in the manner of a ghost haunting its ancestral mansion +where strangers are making themselves at home; a calumniated, ridiculed, +and pooh-pooh'd ghost, and yet never ceasing to inspire a sort of awe, a +strange uneasiness, in the hearts of the unlawful possessors. Poland +deprived of its independence, of its historical continuity, with its +religion and language persecuted and repressed, became a mere +geographical expression. And even that, itself, seemed strangely vague, +had lost its definite character, was rendered doubtful by the theories +and the claims of the spoliators who, by a strange effect of uneasy +conscience, while strenuously denying the moral guilt of the transaction, +were always trying to throw a veil of high rectitude over the Crime. What +was most annoying to their righteousness was the fact that the nation, +stabbed to the heart, refused to grow insensible and cold. That +persistent and almost uncanny vitality was sometimes very inconvenient to +the rest of Europe also. It would intrude its irresistible claim into +every problem of European politics, into the theory of European +equilibrium, into the question of the Near East, the Italian question, +the question of Schleswig-Holstein, and into the doctrine of +nationalities. That ghost, not content with making its ancestral halls +uncomfortable for the thieves, haunted also the Cabinets of Europe, waved +indecently its bloodstained robes in the solemn atmosphere of Council- +rooms, where congresses and conferences sit with closed windows. It +would not be exorcised by the brutal jeers of Bismarck and the fine +railleries of Gorchakov. + +As a Polish friend observed to me some years ago: "Till the year '48 the +Polish problem has been to a certain extent a convenient rallying-point +for all manifestations of liberalism. Since that time we have come to be +regarded simply as a nuisance. It's very disagreeable." + +I agreed that it was, and he continued: "What are we to do? We did not +create the situation by any outside action of ours. Through all the +centuries of its existence Poland has never been a menace to anybody, not +even to the Turks, to whom it has been merely an obstacle." + +Nothing could be more true. The spirit of aggressiveness was absolutely +foreign to the Polish temperament, to which the preservation of its +institutions and its liberties was much more precious than any ideas of +conquest. Polish wars were defensive, and they were mostly fought within +Poland's own borders. And that those territories were often invaded was +but a misfortune arising from its geographical position. Territorial +expansion was never the master-thought of Polish statesmen. The +consolidation of the territories of the _serenissime_ Republic, which +made of it a Power of the first rank for a time, was not accomplished by +force. It was not the consequence of successful aggression, but of a +long and successful defence against the raiding neighbours from the East. +The lands of Lithuanian and Ruthenian speech were never conquered by +Poland. These peoples were not compelled by a series of exhausting wars +to seek safety in annexation. It was not the will of a prince or a +political intrigue that brought about the union. Neither was it fear. +The slowly-matured view of the economical and social necessities and, +before all, the ripening moral sense of the masses were the motives that +induced the forty three representatives of Lithuanian and Ruthenian +provinces, led by their paramount prince, to enter into a political +combination unique in the history of the world, a spontaneous and +complete union of sovereign States choosing deliberately the way of +peace. Never was strict truth better expressed in a political instrument +than in the preamble of the first Union Treaty (1413). It begins with +the words: "This Union, being the outcome not of hatred, but of +love"--words that Poles have not heard addressed to them politically by +any nation for the last hundred and fifty years. + +This union being an organic, living thing capable of growth and +development was, later, modified and confirmed by two other treaties, +which guaranteed to all the parties in a just and eternal union all their +rights, liberties, and respective institutions. The Polish State offers +a singular instance of an extremely liberal administrative federalism +which, in its Parliamentary life as well as its international politics, +presented a complete unity of feeling and purpose. As an eminent French +diplomatist remarked many years ago: "It is a very remarkable fact in the +history of the Polish State, this invariable and unanimous consent of the +populations; the more so that, the King being looked upon simply as the +chief of the Republic, there was no monarchical bond, no dynastic +fidelity to control and guide the sentiment of the nations, and their +union remained as a pure affirmation of the national will." The Grand +Duchy of Lithuania and its Ruthenian Provinces retained their statutes, +their own administration, and their own political institutions. That +those institutions in the course of time tended to assimilation with the +Polish form was not the result of any pressure, but simply of the +superior character of Polish civilisation. + +Even after Poland lost its independence this alliance and this union +remained firm in spirit and fidelity. All the national movements towards +liberation were initiated in the name of the whole mass of people +inhabiting the limits of the old Republic, and all the Provinces took +part in them with complete devotion. It is only in the last generation +that efforts have been made to create a tendency towards separation, +which would indeed serve no one but Poland's common enemies. And, +strangely enough, it is the internationalists, men who professedly care +nothing for race or country, who have set themselves this task of +disruption, one can easily see for what sinister purpose. The ways of +the internationalists may be dark, but they are not inscrutable. + +From the same source no doubt there will flow in the future a poisoned +stream of hints of a reconstituted Poland being a danger to the races +once so closely associated within the territories of the Old Republic. +The old partners in "the Crime" are not likely to forgive their victim +its inconvenient and almost shocking obstinacy in keeping alive. They +had tried moral assassination before and with some small measure of +success, for, indeed, the Polish question, like all living reproaches, +had become a nuisance. Given the wrong, and the apparent impossibility +of righting it without running risks of a serious nature, some moral +alleviation may be found in the belief that the victim had brought its +misfortunes on its own head by its own sins. That theory, too, had been +advanced about Poland (as if other nations had known nothing of sin and +folly), and it made some way in the world at different times, simply +because good care was taken by the interested parties to stop the mouth +of the accused. But it has never carried much conviction to honest +minds. Somehow, in defiance of the cynical point of view as to the Force +of Lies and against all the power of falsified evidence, truth often +turns out to be stronger than calumny. With the course of years, +however, another danger sprang up, a danger arising naturally from the +new political alliances dividing Europe into two armed camps. It was the +danger of silence. Almost without exception the Press of Western Europe +in the twentieth century refused to touch the Polish question in any +shape or form whatever. Never was the fact of Polish vitality more +embarrassing to European diplomacy than on the eve of Poland's +resurrection. + +When the war broke out there was something gruesomely comic in the +proclamations of emperors and archdukes appealing to that invincible soul +of a nation whose existence or moral worth they had been so arrogantly +denying for more than a century. Perhaps in the whole record of human +transactions there have never been performances so brazen and so vile as +the manifestoes of the German Emperor and the Grand Duke Nicholas of +Russia; and, I imagine, no more bitter insult has been offered to human +heart and intelligence than the way in which those proclamations were +flung into the face of historical truth. It was like a scene in a +cynical and sinister farce, the absurdity of which became in some sort +unfathomable by the reflection that nobody in the world could possibly be +so abjectly stupid as to be deceived for a single moment. At that time, +and for the first two months of the war, I happened to be in Poland, and +I remember perfectly well that, when those precious documents came out, +the confidence in the moral turpitude of mankind they implied did not +even raise a scornful smile on the lips of men whose most sacred feelings +and dignity they outraged. They did not deign to waste their contempt on +them. In fact, the situation was too poignant and too involved for +either hot scorn or a coldly rational discussion. For the Poles it was +like being in a burning house of which all the issues were locked. There +was nothing but sheer anguish under the strange, as if stony, calmness +which in the utter absence of all hope falls on minds that are not +constitutionally prone to despair. Yet in this time of dismay the +irrepressible vitality of the nation would not accept a neutral attitude. +I was told that even if there were no issue it was absolutely necessary +for the Poles to affirm their national existence. Passivity, which could +be regarded as a craven acceptance of all the material and moral horrors +ready to fall upon the nation, was not to be thought of for a moment. +Therefore, it was explained to me, the Poles _must_ act. Whether this +was a counsel of wisdom or not it is very difficult to say, but there are +crises of the soul which are beyond the reach of wisdom. When there is +apparently no issue visible to the eyes of reason, sentiment may yet find +a way out, either towards salvation or to utter perdition, no one can +tell--and the sentiment does not even ask the question. Being there as a +stranger in that tense atmosphere, which was yet not unfamiliar to me, I +was not very anxious to parade my wisdom, especially after it had been +pointed out in answer to my cautious arguments that, if life has its +values worth fighting for, death, too, has that in it which can make it +worthy or unworthy. + +Out of the mental and moral trouble into which the grouping of the Powers +at the beginning of war had thrown the counsels of Poland there emerged +at last the decision that the Polish Legions, a peace organisation in +Galicia directed by Pilsudski (afterwards given the rank of General, and +now apparently the Chief of the Government in Warsaw), should take the +field against the Russians. In reality it did not matter against which +partner in the "Crime" Polish resentment should be directed. There was +little to choose between the methods of Russian barbarism, which were +both crude and rotten, and the cultivated brutality tinged with contempt +of Germany's superficial, grinding civilisation. There was nothing to +choose between them. Both were hateful, and the direction of the Polish +effort was naturally governed by Austria's tolerant attitude, which had +connived for years at the semi-secret organisation of the Polish Legions. +Besides, the material possibility pointed out the way. That Poland +should have turned at first against the ally of Western Powers, to whose +moral support she had been looking for so many years, is not a greater +monstrosity than that alliance with Russia which had been entered into by +England and France with rather less excuse and with a view to +eventualities which could perhaps have been avoided by a firmer policy +and by a greater resolution in the face of what plainly appeared +unavoidable. + +For let the truth be spoken. The action of Germany, however cruel, +sanguinary, and faithless, was nothing in the nature of a stab in the +dark. The Germanic Tribes had told the whole world in all possible tones +carrying conviction, the gently persuasive, the coldly logical; in tones +Hegelian, Nietzschean, warlike, pious, cynical, inspired, what they were +going to do to the inferior races of the earth, so full of sin and all +unworthiness. But with a strange similarity to the prophets of old (who +were also great moralists and invokers of might) they seemed to be crying +in a desert. Whatever might have been the secret searching of hearts, +the Worthless Ones would not take heed. It must also be admitted that +the conduct of the menaced Governments carried with it no suggestion of +resistance. It was no doubt, the effect of neither courage nor fear, but +of that prudence which causes the average man to stand very still in the +presence of a savage dog. It was not a very politic attitude, and the +more reprehensible in so far that it seemed to arise from the mistrust of +their own people's fortitude. On simple matters of life and death a +people is always better than its leaders, because a people cannot argue +itself as a whole into a sophisticated state of mind out of deference for +a mere doctrine or from an exaggerated sense of its own cleverness. I am +speaking now of democracies whose chiefs resemble the tyrant of Syracuse +in this, that their power is unlimited (for who can limit the will of a +voting people?) and who always see the domestic sword hanging by a hair +above their heads. + +Perhaps a different attitude would have checked German self-confidence, +and her overgrown militarism would have died from the excess of its own +strength. What would have been then the moral state of Europe it is +difficult to say. Some other excess would probably have taken its place, +excess of theory, or excess of sentiment, or an excess of the sense of +security leading to some other form of catastrophe; but it is certain +that in that case the Polish question would not have taken a concrete +form for ages. Perhaps it would never have taken form! In this world, +where everything is transient, even the most reproachful ghosts end by +vanishing out of old mansions, out of men's consciences. Progress of +enlightenment, or decay of faith? In the years before the war the Polish +ghost was becoming so thin that it was impossible to get for it the +slightest mention in the papers. A young Pole coming to me from Paris +was extremely indignant, but I, indulging in that detachment which is the +product of greater age, longer experience, and a habit of meditation, +refused to share that sentiment. He had gone begging for a word on +Poland to many influential people, and they had one and all told him that +they were going to do no such thing. They were all men of ideas and +therefore might have been called idealists, but the notion most strongly +anchored in their minds was the folly of touching a question which +certainly had no merit of actuality and would have had the appalling +effect of provoking the wrath of their old enemies and at the same time +offending the sensibilities of their new friends. It was an unanswerable +argument. I couldn't share my young friend's surprise and indignation. +My practice of reflection had also convinced me that there is nothing on +earth that turns quicker on its pivot than political idealism when +touched by the breath of practical politics. + +It would be good to remember that Polish independence as embodied in a +Polish State is not the gift of any kind of journalism, neither is it the +outcome even of some particularly benevolent idea or of any clearly +apprehended sense of guilt. I am speaking of what I know when I say that +the original and only formative idea in Europe was the idea of delivering +the fate of Poland into the hands of Russian Tsarism. And, let us +remember, it was assumed then to be a victorious Tsarism at that. It was +an idea talked of openly, entertained seriously, presented as a +benevolence, with a curious blindness to its grotesque and ghastly +character. It was the idea of delivering the victim with a kindly smile +and the confident assurance that "it would be all right" to a perfectly +unrepentant assassin, who, after sawing furiously at its throat for a +hundred years or so, was expected to make friends suddenly and kiss it on +both cheeks in the mystic Russian fashion. It was a singularly +nightmarish combination of international polity, and no whisper of any +other would have been officially tolerated. Indeed, I do not think in +the whole extent of Western Europe there was anybody who had the +slightest mind to whisper on that subject. Those were the days of the +dark future, when Benckendorf put down his name on the Committee for the +Relief of Polish Populations driven by the Russian armies into the heart +of Russia, when the Grand Duke Nicholas (the gentleman who advocated a +St. Bartholomew's Night for the suppression of Russian liberalism) was +displaying his "divine" (I have read the very word in an English +newspaper of standing) strategy in the great retreat, where Mr. Iswolsky +carried himself haughtily on the banks of the Seine; and it was beginning +to dawn upon certain people there that he was a greater nuisance even +than the Polish question. + +But there is no use in talking about all that. Some clever person has +said that it is always the unexpected that happens, and on a calm and +dispassionate survey the world does appear mainly to one as a scene of +miracles. Out of Germany's strength, in whose purpose so many people +refused to believe, came Poland's opportunity, in which nobody could have +been expected to believe. Out of Russia's collapse emerged that +forbidden thing, the Polish independence, not as a vengeful figure, the +retributive shadow of the crime, but as something much more solid and +more difficult to get rid of--a political necessity and a moral solution. +Directly it appeared its practical usefulness became undeniable, and also +the fact that, for better or worse, it was impossible to get rid of it +again except by the unthinkable way of another carving, of another +partition, of another crime. + +Therein lie the strength and the future of the thing so strictly +forbidden no farther back than two years or so, of the Polish +independence expressed in a Polish State. It comes into the world +morally free, not in virtue of its sufferings, but in virtue of its +miraculous rebirth and of its ancient claim for services rendered to +Europe. Not a single one of the combatants of all the fronts of the +world has died consciously for Poland's freedom. That supreme +opportunity was denied even to Poland's own children. And it is just as +well! Providence in its inscrutable way had been merciful, for had it +been otherwise the load of gratitude would have been too great, the sense +of obligation too crushing, the joy of deliverance too fearful for +mortals, common sinners with the rest of mankind before the eye of the +Most High. Those who died East and West, leaving so much anguish and so +much pride behind them, died neither for the creation of States, nor for +empty words, nor yet for the salvation of general ideas. They died +neither for democracy, nor leagues, nor systems, nor yet for abstract +justice, which is an unfathomable mystery. They died for something too +deep for words, too mighty for the common standards by which reason +measures the advantages of life and death, too sacred for the vain +discourses that come and go on the lips of dreamers, fanatics, +humanitarians, and statesmen. They died . . . . + +Poland's independence springs up from that great immolation, but Poland's +loyalty to Europe will not be rooted in anything so trenchant and +burdensome as the sense of an immeasurable indebtedness, of that +gratitude which in a worldly sense is sometimes called eternal, but which +lies always at the mercy of weariness and is fatally condemned by the +instability of human sentiments to end in negation. Polish loyalty will +be rooted in something much more solid and enduring, in something that +could never be called eternal, but which is, in fact, life-enduring. It +will be rooted in the national temperament, which is about the only thing +on earth that can be trusted. Men may deteriorate, they may improve too, +but they don't change. Misfortune is a hard school which may either +mature or spoil a national character, but it may be reasonably advanced +that the long course of adversity of the most cruel kind has not injured +the fundamental characteristics of the Polish nation which has proved its +vitality against the most demoralising odds. The various phases of the +Polish sense of self-preservation struggling amongst the menacing forces +and the no less threatening chaos of the neighbouring Powers should be +judged impartially. I suggest impartiality and not indulgence simply +because, when appraising the Polish question, it is not necessary to +invoke the softer emotions. A little calm reflection on the past and the +present is all that is necessary on the part of the Western world to +judge the movements of a community whose ideals are the same, but whose +situation is unique. This situation was brought vividly home to me in +the course of an argument more than eighteen months ago. "Don't forget," +I was told, "that Poland has got to live in contact with Germany and +Russia to the end of time. Do you understand the force of that +expression: 'To the end of time'? Facts must be taken into account, and +especially appalling facts, such as this, to which there is no possible +remedy on earth. For reasons which are, properly speaking, +physiological, a prospect of friendship with Germans or Russians even in +the most distant future is unthinkable. Any alliance of heart and mind +would be a monstrous thing, and monsters, as we all know, cannot live. +You can't base your conduct on a monstrous conception. We are either +worth or not worth preserving, but the horrible psychology of the +situation is enough to drive the national mind to distraction. Yet under +a destructive pressure, of which Western Europe can have no notion, +applied by forces that were not only crushing but corrupting, we have +preserved our sanity. Therefore there can be no fear of our losing our +minds simply because the pressure is removed. We have neither lost our +heads nor yet our moral sense. Oppression, not merely political, but +affecting social relations, family life, the deepest affections of human +nature, and the very fount of natural emotions, has never made us +vengeful. It is worthy of notice that with every incentive present in +our emotional reactions we had no recourse to political assassination. +Arms in hand, hopeless or hopefully, and always against immeasurable +odds, we did affirm ourselves and the justice of our cause; but wild +justice has never been a part of our conception of national manliness. In +all the history of Polish oppression there was only one shot fired which +was not in battle. Only one! And the man who fired it in Paris at the +Emperor Alexander II. was but an individual connected with no +organisation, representing no shade of Polish opinion. The only effect +in Poland was that of profound regret, not at the failure, but at the +mere fact of the attempt. The history of our captivity is free from that +stain; and whatever follies in the eyes of the world we may have +perpetrated, we have neither murdered our enemies nor acted treacherously +against them, nor yet have been reduced to the point of cursing each +other." + +I could not gainsay the truth of that discourse, I saw as clearly as my +interlocutor the impossibility of the faintest sympathetic bond between +Poland and her neighbours ever being formed in the future. The only +course that remains to a reconstituted Poland is the elaboration, +establishment, and preservation of the most correct method of political +relations with neighbours to whom Poland's existence is bound to be a +humiliation and an offence. Calmly considered it is an appalling task, +yet one may put one's trust in that national temperament which is so +completely free from aggressiveness and revenge. Therein lie the +foundations of all hope. The success of renewed life for that nation +whose fate is to remain in exile, ever isolated from the West, amongst +hostile surroundings, depends on the sympathetic understanding of its +problems by its distant friends, the Western Powers, which in their +democratic development must recognise the moral and intellectual kinship +of that distant outpost of their own type of civilisation, which was the +only basis of Polish culture. + +Whatever may be the future of Russia and the final organisation of +Germany, the old hostility must remain unappeased, the fundamental +antagonism must endure for years to come. The Crime of the Partition was +committed by autocratic Governments which were the Governments of their +time; but those Governments were characterised in the past, as they will +be in the future, by their people's national traits, which remain utterly +incompatible with the Polish mentality and Polish sentiment. Both the +German submissiveness (idealistic as it may be) and the Russian +lawlessness (fed on the corruption of all the virtues) are utterly +foreign to the Polish nation, whose qualities and defects are altogether +of another kind, tending to a certain exaggeration of individualism and, +perhaps, to an extreme belief in the Governing Power of Free Assent: the +one invariably vital principle in the internal government of the Old +Republic. There was never a history more free from political bloodshed +than the history of the Polish State, which never knew either feudal +institutions or feudal quarrels. At the time when heads were falling on +the scaffolds all over Europe there was only one political execution in +Poland--only one; and as to that there still exists a tradition that the +great Chancellor who democratised Polish institutions, and had to order +it in pursuance of his political purpose, could not settle that matter +with his conscience till the day of his death. Poland, too, had her +civil wars, but this can hardly be made a matter of reproach to her by +the rest of the world. Conducted with humanity, they left behind them no +animosities and no sense of repression, and certainly no legacy of +hatred. They were but a recognised argument in political discussion and +tended always towards conciliation. + +I cannot imagine, whatever form of democratic government Poland +elaborates for itself, that either the nation or its leaders would do +anything but welcome the closest scrutiny of their renewed political +existence. The difficulty of the problem of that existence will be so +great that some errors will be unavoidable, and one may be sure that they +will be taken advantage of by its neighbours to discredit that living +witness to a great historical crime. If not the actual frontiers, then +the moral integrity of the new State is sure to be assailed before the +eyes of Europe. Economical enmity will also come into play when the +world's work is resumed again and competition asserts its power. Charges +of aggression are certain to be made, especially as related to the small +States formed of the territories of the Old Republic. And everybody +knows the power of lies which go about clothed in coats of many colours, +whereas, as is well known, Truth has no such advantage, and for that +reason is often suppressed as not altogether proper for everyday +purposes. It is not often recognised, because it is not always fit to be +seen. + +Already there are innuendoes, threats, hints thrown out, and even awful +instances fabricated out of inadequate materials, but it is historically +unthinkable that the Poland of the future, with its sacred tradition of +freedom and its hereditary sense of respect for the rights of individuals +and States, should seek its prosperity in aggressive action or in moral +violence against that part of its once fellow-citizens who are Ruthenians +or Lithuanians. The only influence that cannot be restrained is simply +the influence of time, which disengages truth from all facts with a +merciless logic and prevails over the passing opinions, the changing +impulses of men. There can be no doubt that the moral impulses and the +material interests of the new nationalities, which seem to play now the +game of disintegration for the benefit of the world's enemies, will in +the end bring them nearer to the Poland of this war's creation, will +unite them sooner or later by a spontaneous movement towards the State +which had adopted and brought them up in the development of its own +humane culture--the offspring of the West. + + + +A NOTE ON THE POLISH PROBLEM--1916 + + +We must start from the assumption that promises made by proclamation at +the beginning of this war may be binding on the individuals who made them +under the stress of coming events, but cannot be regarded as binding the +Governments after the end of the war. + +Poland has been presented with three proclamations. Two of them were in +such contrast with the avowed principles and the historic action for the +last hundred years (since the Congress of Vienna) of the Powers +concerned, that they were more like cynical insults to the nation's +deepest feelings, its memory and its intelligence, than state papers of a +conciliatory nature. + +The German promises awoke nothing but indignant contempt; the Russian a +bitter incredulity of the most complete kind. The Austrian proclamation, +which made no promises and contented itself with pointing out the Austro- +Polish relations for the last forty-five years, was received in silence. +For it is a fact that in Austrian Poland alone Polish nationality was +recognised as an element of the Empire, and individuals could breathe the +air of freedom, of civil life, if not of political independence. + +But for Poles to be Germanophile is unthinkable. To be Russophile or +Austrophile is at best a counsel of despair in view of a European +situation which, because of the grouping of the powers, seems to shut +from them every hope, expressed or unexpressed, of a national future +nursed through more than a hundred years of suffering and oppression. + +Through most of these years, and especially since 1830, Poland (I use +this expression since Poland exists as a spiritual entity to-day as +definitely as it ever existed in her past) has put her faith in the +Western Powers. Politically it may have been nothing more than a +consoling illusion, and the nation had a half-consciousness of this. But +what Poland was looking for from the Western Powers without +discouragement and with unbroken confidence was moral support. + +This is a fact of the sentimental order. But such facts have their +positive value, for their idealism derives from perhaps the highest kind +of reality. A sentiment asserts its claim by its force, persistence and +universality. In Poland that sentimental attitude towards the Western +Powers is universal. It extends to all classes. The very children are +affected by it as soon as they begin to think. + +The political value of such a sentiment consists in this, that it is +based on profound resemblances. Therefore one can build on it as if it +were a material fact. For the same reason it would be unsafe to +disregard it if one proposed to build solidly. The Poles, whom +superficial or ill-informed theorists are trying to force into the social +and psychological formula of Slavonism, are in truth not Slavonic at all. +In temperament, in feeling, in mind, and even in unreason, they are +Western, with an absolute comprehension of all Western modes of thought, +even of those which are remote from their historical experience. + +That element of racial unity which may be called Polonism, remained +compressed between Prussian Germanism on one side and the Russian +Slavonism on the other. For Germanism it feels nothing but hatred. But +between Polonism and Slavonism there is not so much hatred as a complete +and ineradicable incompatibility. + +No political work of reconstructing Poland either as a matter of justice +or expediency could be sound which would leave the new creation in +dependence to Germanism or to Slavonism. + +The first need not be considered. The second must be--unless the Powers +elect to drop the Polish question either under the cover of vague +assurances or without any disguise whatever. + +But if it is considered it will be seen at once that the Slavonic +solution of the Polish Question can offer no guarantees of duration or +hold the promise of security for the peace of Europe. + +The only basis for it would be the Grand Duke's Manifesto. But that +Manifesto, signed by a personage now removed from Europe to Asia, and by +a man, moreover, who if true to himself, to his conception of patriotism +and to his family tradition could not have put his hand to it with any +sincerity of purpose, is now divested of all authority. The forcible +vagueness of its promises, its startling inconsistency with the hundred +years of ruthlessly denationalising oppression permit one to doubt +whether it was ever meant to have any authority. + +But in any case it could have had no effect. The very nature of things +would have brought to nought its professed intentions. + +It is impossible to suppose that a State of Russia's power and +antecedents would tolerate a privileged community (of, to Russia, +unnational complexion) within the body of the Empire. All history shows +that such an arrangement, however hedged in by the most solemn treaties +and declarations, cannot last. In this case it would lead to a tragic +issue. The absorption of Polonism is unthinkable. The last hundred +years of European History proves it undeniably. There remains then +extirpation, a process of blood and iron; and the last act of the Polish +drama would be played then before a Europe too weary to interfere, and to +the applause of Germany. + +It would not be just to say that the disappearance of Polonism would add +any strength to the Slavonic power of expansion. It would add no +strength, but it would remove a possibly effective barrier against the +surprises the future of Europe may hold in store for the Western Powers. + +Thus the question whether Polonism is worth saving presents itself as a +problem of politics with a practical bearing on the stability of European +peace--as a barrier or perhaps better (in view of its detached position) +as an outpost of the Western Powers placed between the great might of +Slavonism which has not yet made up its mind to anything, and the +organised Germanism which has spoken its mind with no uncertain voice, +before the world. + +Looked at in that light alone Polonism seems worth saving. That it has +lived so long on its trust in the moral support of the Western Powers may +give it another and even stronger claim, based on a truth of a more +profound kind. Polonism had resisted the utmost efforts of Germanism and +Slavonism for more than a hundred years. Why? Because of the strength +of its ideals conscious of their kinship with the West. Such a power of +resistance creates a moral obligation which it would be unsafe to +neglect. There is always a risk in throwing away a tool of proved +temper. + +In this profound conviction of the practical and ideal worth of Polonism +one approaches the problem of its preservation with a very vivid sense of +the practical difficulties derived from the grouping of the Powers. The +uncertainty of the extent and of the actual form of victory for the +Allies will increase the difficulty of formulating a plan of Polish +regeneration at the present moment. + +Poland, to strike its roots again into the soil of political Europe, will +require a guarantee of security for the healthy development and for the +untrammelled play of such institutions as she may be enabled to give to +herself. + +Those institutions will be animated by the spirit of Polonism, which, +having been a factor in the history of Europe and having proved its +vitality under oppression, has established its right to live. That +spirit, despised and hated by Germany and incompatible with Slavonism +because of moral differences, cannot avoid being (in its renewed +assertion) an object of dislike and mistrust. + +As an unavoidable consequence of the past Poland will have to begin its +existence in an atmosphere of enmities and suspicions. That advanced +outpost of Western civilisation will have to hold its ground in the midst +of hostile camps: always its historical fate. + +Against the menace of such a specially dangerous situation the paper and +ink of public Treaties cannot be an effective defence. Nothing but the +actual, living, active participation of the two Western Powers in the +establishment of the new Polish commonwealth, and in the first twenty +years of its existence, will give the Poles a sufficient guarantee of +security in the work of restoring their national life. + +An Anglo-French protectorate would be the ideal form of moral and +material support. But Russia, as an ally, must take her place in it on +such a footing as will allay to the fullest extent her possible +apprehensions and satisfy her national sentiment. That necessity will +have to be formally recognised. + +In reality Russia has ceased to care much for her Polish possessions. +Public recognition of a mistake in political morality and a voluntary +surrender of territory in the cause of European concord, cannot damage +the prestige of a powerful State. The new spheres of expansion in +regions more easily assimilable, will more than compensate Russia for the +loss of territory on the Western frontier of the Empire. + +The experience of Dual Controls and similar combinations has been so +unfortunate in the past that the suggestion of a Triple Protectorate may +well appear at first sight monstrous even to unprejudiced minds. But it +must be remembered that this is a unique case and a problem altogether +exceptional, justifying the employment of exceptional means for its +solution. To those who would doubt the possibility of even bringing such +a scheme into existence the answer may be made that there are +psychological moments when any measure tending towards the ends of +concord and justice may be brought into being. And it seems that the end +of the war would be the moment for bringing into being the political +scheme advocated in this note. + +Its success must depend on the singleness of purpose in the contracting +Powers, and on the wisdom, the tact, the abilities, the good-will of men +entrusted with its initiation and its further control. Finally it may be +pointed out that this plan is the only one offering serious guarantees to +all the parties occupying their respective positions within the scheme. + +If her existence as a state is admitted as just, expedient and necessary, +Poland has the moral right to receive her constitution not from the hand +of an old enemy, but from the Western Powers alone, though of course with +the fullest concurrence of Russia. + +This constitution, elaborated by a committee of Poles nominated by the +three Governments, will (after due discussion and amendment by the High +Commissioners of the Protecting Powers) be presented to Poland as the +initial document, the charter of her new life, freely offered and +unreservedly accepted. + +It should be as simple and short as a written constitution can +be--establishing the Polish Commonwealth, settling the lines of +representative institutions, the form of judicature, and leaving the +greatest measure possible of self-government to the provinces forming +part of the re-created Poland. + +This constitution will be promulgated immediately after the three Powers +had settled the frontiers of the new State, including the town of Danzic +(free port) and a proportion of seaboard. The legislature will then be +called together and a general treaty will regulate Poland's international +portion as a protected state, the status of the High Commissioners and +such-like matters. The legislature will ratify, thus making Poland, as +it were, a party in the establishment of the protectorate. A point of +importance. + +Other general treaties will define Poland's position in the Anglo-Franco- +Russian alliance, fix the numbers of the army, and settle the +participation of the Powers in its organisation and training. + + + +POLAND REVISITED--1915 + + +I. + + +I have never believed in political assassination as a means to an end, +and least of all in assassination of the dynastic order. I don't know +how far murder can ever approach the perfection of a fine art, but looked +upon with the cold eye of reason it seems but a crude expedient of +impatient hope or hurried despair. There are few men whose premature +death could influence human affairs more than on the surface. The deeper +stream of causes depends not on individuals who, like the mass of +mankind, are carried on by a destiny which no murder has ever been able +to placate, divert, or arrest. + +In July of last year I was a stranger in a strange city in the Midlands +and particularly out of touch with the world's politics. Never a very +diligent reader of newspapers, there were at that time reasons of a +private order which caused me to be even less informed than usual on +public affairs as presented from day to day in that necessarily +atmosphereless, perspectiveless manner of the daily papers, which +somehow, for a man possessed of some historic sense, robs them of all +real interest. I don't think I had looked at a daily for a month past. + +But though a stranger in a strange city I was not lonely, thanks to a +friend who had travelled there out of pure kindness to bear me company in +a conjuncture which, in a most private sense, was somewhat trying. + +It was this friend who, one morning at breakfast, informed me of the +murder of the Archduke Ferdinand. + +The impression was mediocre. I was barely aware that such a man existed. +I remembered only that not long before he had visited London. The +recollection was rather of a cloud of insignificant printed words his +presence in this country provoked. + +Various opinions had been expressed of him, but his importance was +Archducal, dynastic, purely accidental. Can there be in the world of +real men anything more shadowy than an Archduke? And now he was no more; +removed with an atrocity of circumstances which made one more sensible of +his humanity than when he was in life. I connected that crime with +Balkanic plots and aspirations so little that I had actually to ask where +it had happened. My friend told me it was in Serajevo, and wondered what +would be the consequences of that grave event. He asked me what I +thought would happen next. + +It was with perfect sincerity that I answered "Nothing," and having a +great repugnance to consider murder as a factor of politics, I dismissed +the subject. It fitted with my ethical sense that an act cruel and +absurd should be also useless. I had also the vision of a crowd of +shadowy Archdukes in the background, out of which one would step forward +to take the place of that dead man in the light of the European stage. +And then, to speak the whole truth, there was no man capable of forming a +judgment who attended so little to the march of events as I did at that +time. What for want of a more definite term I must call my mind was +fixed upon my own affairs, not because they were in a bad posture, but +because of their fascinating holiday-promising aspect. I had been +obtaining my information as to Europe at second hand, from friends good +enough to come down now and then to see us. They arrived with their +pockets full of crumpled newspapers, and answered my queries casually, +with gentle smiles of scepticism as to the reality of my interest. And +yet I was not indifferent; but the tension in the Balkans had become +chronic after the acute crisis, and one could not help being less +conscious of it. It had wearied out one's attention. Who could have +guessed that on that wild stage we had just been looking at a miniature +rehearsal of the great world-drama, the reduced model of the very +passions and violences of what the future held in store for the Powers of +the Old World? Here and there, perhaps, rare minds had a suspicion of +that possibility, while they watched Old Europe stage-managing fussily by +means of notes and conferences, the prophetic reproduction of its +awaiting fate. It was wonderfully exact in the spirit; same roar of +guns, same protestations of superiority, same words in the air; race, +liberation, justice--and the same mood of trivial demonstrations. One +could not take to-day a ticket for Petersburg. "You mean Petrograd," +would say the booking clerk. Shortly after the fall of Adrianople a +friend of mine passing through Sophia asked for some _cafe turc_ at the +end of his lunch. + +"Monsieur veut dire Cafe balkanique," the patriotic waiter corrected him +austerely. + +I will not say that I had not observed something of that instructive +aspect of the war of the Balkans both in its first and in its second +phase. But those with whom I touched upon that vision were pleased to +see in it the evidence of my alarmist cynicism. As to alarm, I pointed +out that fear is natural to man, and even salutary. It has done as much +as courage for the preservation of races and institutions. But from a +charge of cynicism I have always shrunk instinctively. It is like a +charge of being blind in one eye, a moral disablement, a sort of +disgraceful calamity that must he carried off with a jaunty bearing--a +sort of thing I am not capable of. Rather than be thought a mere jaunty +cripple I allowed myself to be blinded by the gross obviousness of the +usual arguments. It was pointed out to me that these Eastern nations +were not far removed from a savage state. Their economics were yet at +the stage of scratching the earth and feeding the pigs. The +highly-developed material civilisation of Europe could not allow itself +to be disturbed by a war. The industry and the finance could not allow +themselves to be disorganised by the ambitions of an idle class, or even +the aspirations, whatever they might be, of the masses. + +Very plausible all this sounded. War does not pay. There had been a +book written on that theme--an attempt to put pacificism on a material +basis. Nothing more solid in the way of argument could have been +advanced on this trading and manufacturing globe. War was "bad +business!" This was final. + +But, truth to say, on this July day I reflected but little on the +condition of the civilised world. Whatever sinister passions were +heaving under its splendid and complex surface, I was too agitated by a +simple and innocent desire of my own, to notice the signs or interpret +them correctly. The most innocent of passions will take the edge off +one's judgment. The desire which possessed me was simply the desire to +travel. And that being so it would have taken something very plain in +the way of symptoms to shake my simple trust in the stability of things +on the Continent. My sentiment and not my reason was engaged there. My +eyes were turned to the past, not to the future; the past that one cannot +suspect and mistrust, the shadowy and unquestionable moral possession the +darkest struggles of which wear a halo of glory and peace. + +In the preceding month of May we had received an invitation to spend some +weeks in Poland in a country house in the neighbourhood of Cracow, but +within the Russian frontier. The enterprise at first seemed to me +considerable. Since leaving the sea, to which I have been faithful for +so many years, I have discovered that there is in my composition very +little stuff from which travellers are made. I confess that my first +impulse about a projected journey is to leave it alone. But the +invitation received at first with a sort of dismay ended by rousing the +dormant energy of my feelings. Cracow is the town where I spent with my +father the last eighteen months of his life. It was in that old royal +and academical city that I ceased to be a child, became a boy, had known +the friendships, the admirations, the thoughts and the indignations of +that age. It was within those historical walls that I began to +understand things, form affections, lay up a store of memories and a fund +of sensations with which I was to break violently by throwing myself into +an unrelated existence. It was like the experience of another world. The +wings of time made a great dusk over all this, and I feared at first that +if I ventured bodily in there I would discover that I who have had to do +with a good many imaginary lives have been embracing mere shadows in my +youth. I feared. But fear in itself may become a fascination. Men have +gone, alone and trembling, into graveyards at midnight--just to see what +would happen. And this adventure was to be pursued in sunshine. Neither +would it be pursued alone. The invitation was extended to us all. This +journey would have something of a migratory character, the invasion of a +tribe. My present, all that gave solidity and value to it, at any rate, +would stand by me in this test of the reality of my past. I was pleased +with the idea of showing my companions what Polish country life was like; +to visit the town where I was at school before the boys by my side should +grow too old, and gaining an individual past of their own, should lose +their unsophisticated interest in mine. It is only in the short instants +of early youth that we have the faculty of coming out of ourselves to see +dimly the visions and share the emotions of another soul. For youth all +is reality in this world, and with justice, since it apprehends so +vividly its images behind which a longer life makes one doubt whether +there is any substance. I trusted to the fresh receptivity of these +young beings in whom, unless Heredity is an empty word, there should have +been a fibre which would answer to the sight, to the atmosphere, to the +memories of that corner of the earth where my own boyhood had received +its earliest independent impressions. + +The first days of the third week in July, while the telegraph wires +hummed with the words of enormous import which were to fill blue books, +yellow books, white books, and to arouse the wonder of mankind, passed +for us in light-hearted preparations for the journey. What was it but +just a rush through Germany, to get across as quickly as possible? + +Germany is the part of the earth's solid surface of which I know the +least. In all my life I had been across it only twice. I may well say +of it _vidi tantum_; and the very little I saw was through the window of +a railway carriage at express speed. Those journeys of mine had been +more like pilgrimages when one hurries on towards the goal for the +satisfaction of a deeper need than curiosity. In this last instance, +too, I was so incurious that I would have liked to have fallen asleep on +the shores of England and opened my eyes, if it were possible, only on +the other side of the Silesian frontier. Yet, in truth, as many others +have done, I had "sensed it"--that promised land of steel, of chemical +dyes, of method, of efficiency; that race planted in the middle of +Europe, assuming in grotesque vanity the attitude of Europeans amongst +effete Asiatics or barbarous niggers; and, with a consciousness of +superiority freeing their hands from all moral bonds, anxious to take up, +if I may express myself so, the "perfect man's burden." Meantime, in a +clearing of the Teutonic forest, their sages were rearing a Tree of +Cynical Wisdom, a sort of Upas tree, whose shade may be seen now lying +over the prostrate body of Belgium. It must be said that they laboured +openly enough, watering it with the most authentic sources of all +madness, and watching with their be-spectacled eyes the slow ripening of +the glorious blood-red fruit. The sincerest words of peace, words of +menace, and I verily believe words of abasement, even if there had been a +voice vile enough to utter them, would have been wasted on their ecstasy. +For when the fruit ripens on a branch it must fall. There is nothing on +earth that can prevent it. + + +II. + + +For reasons which at first seemed to me somewhat obscure, that one of my +companions whose wishes are law decided that our travels should begin in +an unusual way by the crossing of the North Sea. We should proceed from +Harwich to Hamburg. Besides being thirty-six times longer than the Dover- +Calais passage this rather unusual route had an air of adventure in +better keeping with the romantic feeling of this Polish journey which for +so many years had been before us in a state of a project full of colour +and promise, but always retreating, elusive like an enticing mirage. + +And, after all, it had turned out to be no mirage. No wonder they were +excited. It's no mean experience to lay your hands on a mirage. The day +of departure had come, the very hour had struck. The luggage was coming +downstairs. It was most convincing. Poland then, if erased from the +map, yet existed in reality; it was not a mere _pays du reve_, where you +can travel only in imagination. For no man, they argued, not even +father, an habitual pursuer of dreams, would push the love of the +novelist's art of make-believe to the point of burdening himself with +real trunks for a voyage _au pays du reve_. + +As we left the door of our house, nestling in, perhaps, the most peaceful +nook in Kent, the sky, after weeks of perfectly brazen serenity, veiled +its blue depths and started to weep fine tears for the refreshment of the +parched fields. A pearly blur settled over them, and a light sifted of +all glare, of everything unkindly and searching that dwells in the +splendour of unveiled skies. All unconscious of going towards the very +scenes of war, I carried off in my eye, this tiny fragment of Great +Britain; a few fields, a wooded rise; a clump of trees or two, with a +short stretch of road, and here and there a gleam of red wall and tiled +roof above the darkening hedges wrapped up in soft mist and peace. And I +felt that all this had a very strong hold on me as the embodiment of a +beneficent and gentle spirit; that it was dear to me not as an +inheritance, but as an acquisition, as a conquest in the sense in which a +woman is conquered--by love, which is a sort of surrender. + +These were strange, as if disproportionate thoughts to the matter in +hand, which was the simplest sort of a Continental holiday. And I am +certain that my companions, near as they are to me, felt no other trouble +but the suppressed excitement of pleasurable anticipation. The forms and +the spirit of the land before their eyes were their inheritance, not +their conquest--which is a thing precarious, and, therefore, the most +precious, possessing you if only by the fear of unworthiness rather than +possessed by you. Moreover, as we sat together in the same railway +carriage, they were looking forward to a voyage in space, whereas I felt +more and more plainly, that what I had started on was a journey in time, +into the past; a fearful enough prospect for the most consistent, but to +him who had not known how to preserve against his impulses the order and +continuity of his life--so that at times it presented itself to his +conscience as a series of betrayals--still more dreadful. + +I down here these thoughts so exclusively personal, to explain why there +was no room in my consciousness for the apprehension of a European war. I +don't mean to say that I ignored the possibility; I simply did not think +of it. And it made no difference; for if I had thought of it, it could +only have been in the lame and inconclusive way of the common uninitiated +mortals; and I am sure that nothing short of intellectual +certitude--obviously unattainable by the man in the street--could have +stayed me on that journey which now that I had started on it seemed an +irrevocable thing, a necessity of my self-respect. + +London, the London before the war, flaunting its enormous glare, as of a +monstrous conflagration up into the black sky--with its best Venice-like +aspect of rainy evenings, the wet asphalted streets lying with the sheen +of sleeping water in winding canals, and the great houses of the city +towering all dark, like empty palaces, above the reflected lights of the +glistening roadway. + +Everything in the subdued incomplete night-life around the Mansion House +went on normally with its fascinating air of a dead commercial city of +sombre walls through which the inextinguishable activity of its millions +streamed East and West in a brilliant flow of lighted vehicles. + +In Liverpool Street, as usual too, through the double gates, a continuous +line of taxi-cabs glided down the inclined approach and up again, like an +endless chain of dredger-buckets, pouring in the passengers, and dipping +them out of the great railway station under the inexorable pallid face of +the clock telling off the diminishing minutes of peace. It was the hour +of the boat-trains to Holland, to Hamburg, and there seemed to be no lack +of people, fearless, reckless, or ignorant, who wanted to go to these +places. The station was normally crowded, and if there was a great +flutter of evening papers in the multitude of hands there were no signs +of extraordinary emotion on that multitude of faces. There was nothing +in them to distract me from the thought that it was singularly +appropriate that I should start from this station on the retraced way of +my existence. For this was the station at which, thirty-seven years +before, I arrived on my first visit to London. Not the same building, +but the same spot. At nineteen years of age, after a period of probation +and training I had imposed upon myself as ordinary seaman on board a +North Sea coaster, I had come up from Lowestoft--my first long railway +journey in England--to "sign on" for an Antipodean voyage in a deep-water +ship. Straight from a railway carriage I had walked into the great city +with something of the feeling of a traveller penetrating into a vast and +unexplored wilderness. No explorer could have been more lonely. I did +not know a single soul of all these millions that all around me peopled +the mysterious distances of the streets. I cannot say I was free from a +little youthful awe, but at that age one's feelings are simple. I was +elated. I was pursuing a clear aim, I was carrying out a deliberate plan +of making out of myself, in the first place, a seaman worthy of the +service, good enough to work by the side of the men with whom I was to +live; and in the second place, I had to justify my existence to myself, +to redeem a tacit moral pledge. Both these aims were to be attained by +the same effort. How simple seemed the problem of life then, on that +hazy day of early September in the year 1878, when I entered London for +the first time. + +From that point of view--Youth and a straightforward scheme of conduct--it +was certainly a year of grace. All the help I had to get in touch with +the world I was invading was a piece of paper not much bigger than the +palm of my hand--in which I held it--torn out of a larger plan of London +for the greater facility of reference. It had been the object of careful +study for some days past. The fact that I could take a conveyance at the +station never occurred to my mind, no, not even when I got out into the +street, and stood, taking my anxious bearings, in the midst, so to speak, +of twenty thousand hansoms. A strange absence of mind or unconscious +conviction that one cannot approach an important moment of one's life by +means of a hired carriage? Yes, it would have been a preposterous +proceeding. And indeed I was to make an Australian voyage and encircle +the globe before ever entering a London hansom. + +Another document, a cutting from a newspaper, containing the address of +an obscure shipping agent, was in my pocket. And I needed not to take it +out. That address was as if graven deep in my brain. I muttered its +words to myself as I walked on, navigating the sea of London by the chart +concealed in the palm of my hand; for I had vowed to myself not to +inquire my way from anyone. Youth is the time of rash pledges. Had I +taken a wrong turning I would have been lost; and if faithful to my +pledge I might have remained lost for days, for weeks, have left perhaps +my bones to be discovered bleaching in some blind alley of the +Whitechapel district, as it had happened to lonely travellers lost in the +bush. But I walked on to my destination without hesitation or mistake, +showing there, for the first time, some of that faculty to absorb and +make my own the imaged topography of a chart, which in later years was to +help me in regions of intricate navigation to keep the ships entrusted to +me off the ground. The place I was bound to was not easy to find. It +was one of those courts hidden away from the charted and navigable +streets, lost among the thick growth of houses like a dark pool in the +depths of a forest, approached by an inconspicuous archway as if by +secret path; a Dickensian nook of London, that wonder city, the growth of +which bears no sign of intelligent design, but many traces of freakishly +sombre phantasy the Great Master knew so well how to bring out by the +magic of his understanding love. And the office I entered was Dickensian +too. The dust of the Waterloo year lay on the panes and frames of its +windows; early Georgian grime clung to its sombre wainscoting. + +It was one o'clock in the afternoon, but the day was gloomy. By the +light of a single gas-jet depending from the smoked ceiling I saw an +elderly man, in a long coat of black broadcloth. He had a grey beard, a +big nose, thick lips, and heavy shoulders. His curly white hair and the +general character of his head recalled vaguely a burly apostle in the +_barocco_ style of Italian art. Standing up at a tall, shabby, slanting +desk, his silver-rimmed spectacles pushed up high on his forehead, he was +eating a mutton-chop, which had been just brought to him from some +Dickensian eating-house round the corner. + +Without ceasing to eat he turned to me his florid, _barocco_ apostle's +face with an expression of inquiry. + +I produced elaborately a series of vocal sounds which must have borne +sufficient resemblance to the phonetics of English speech, for his face +broke into a smile of comprehension almost at once.--"Oh, it's you who +wrote a letter to me the other day from Lowestoft about getting a ship." + +I had written to him from Lowestoft. I can't remember a single word of +that letter now. It was my very first composition in the English +language. And he had understood it, evidently, for he spoke to the point +at once, explaining that his business, mainly, was to find good ships for +young gentlemen who wanted to go to sea as premium apprentices with a +view of being trained for officers. But he gathered that this was not my +object. I did not desire to be apprenticed. Was that the case? + +It was. He was good enough to say then, "Of course I see that you are a +gentleman. But your wish is to get a berth before the mast as an Able +Seaman if possible. Is that it?" + +It was certainly my wish; but he stated doubtfully that he feared he +could not help me much in this. There was an Act of Parliament which +made it penal to procure ships for sailors. "An Act-of-Parliament. A +law," he took pains to impress it again and again on my foreign +understanding, while I looked at him in consternation. + +I had not been half an hour in London before I had run my head against an +Act of Parliament! What a hopeless adventure! However, the _barocco_ +apostle was a resourceful person in his way, and we managed to get round +the hard letter of it without damage to its fine spirit. Yet, strictly +speaking, it was not the conduct of a good citizen; and in retrospect +there is an unfilial flavour about that early sin of mine. For this Act +of Parliament, the Merchant Shipping Act of the Victorian era, had been +in a manner of speaking a father and mother to me. For many years it had +regulated and disciplined my life, prescribed my food and the amount of +my breathing space, had looked after my health and tried as much as +possible to secure my personal safety in a risky calling. It isn't such +a bad thing to lead a life of hard toil and plain duty within the four +corners of an honest Act of Parliament. And I am glad to say that its +seventies have never been applied to me. + +In the year 1878, the year of "Peace with Honour," I had walked as lone +as any human being in the streets of London, out of Liverpool Street +Station, to surrender myself to its care. And now, in the year of the +war waged for honour and conscience more than for any other cause, I was +there again, no longer alone, but a man of infinitely dear and close ties +grown since that time, of work done, of words written, of friendships +secured. It was like the closing of a thirty-six-year cycle. + +All unaware of the War Angel already awaiting, with the trumpet at his +lips, the stroke of the fatal hour, I sat there, thinking that this life +of ours is neither long nor short, but that it can appear very wonderful, +entertaining, and pathetic, with symbolic images and bizarre associations +crowded into one half-hour of retrospective musing. + +I felt, too, that this journey, so suddenly entered upon, was bound to +take me away from daily life's actualities at every step. I felt it more +than ever when presently we steamed out into the North Sea, on a dark +night fitful with gusts of wind, and I lingered on deck, alone of all the +tale of the ship's passengers. That sea was to me something +unforgettable, something much more than a name. It had been for some +time the schoolroom of my trade. On it, I may safely say, I had learned, +too, my first words of English. A wild and stormy abode, sometimes, was +that confined, shallow-water academy of seamanship from which I launched +myself on the wide oceans. My teachers had been the sailors of the +Norfolk shore; coast men, with steady eyes, mighty limbs, and gentle +voice; men of very few words, which at least were never bare of meaning. +Honest, strong, steady men, sobered by domestic ties, one and all, as far +as I can remember. + +That is what years ago the North Sea I could hear growling in the dark +all round the ship had been for me. And I fancied that I must have been +carrying its voice in my ear ever since, for nothing could be more +familiar than those short, angry sounds I was listening to with a smile +of affectionate recognition. + +I could not guess that before many days my old schoolroom would be +desecrated by violence, littered with wrecks, with death walking its +waves, hiding under its waters. Perhaps while I am writing these words +the children, or maybe the grandchildren, of my pacific teachers are out +in trawlers, under the Naval flag, dredging for German submarine mines. + + +III. + + +I have said that the North Sea was my finishing school of seamanship +before I launched myself on the wider oceans. Confined as it is in +comparison with the vast stage of this water-girt globe, I did not know +it in all its parts. My class-room was the region of the English East +Coast which, in the year of Peace with Honour, had long forgotten the war +episodes belonging to its maritime history. It was a peaceful coast, +agricultural, industrial, the home of fishermen. At night the lights of +its many towns played on the clouds, or in clear weather lay still, here +and there, in brilliant pools above the ink-black outline of the land. On +many a night I have hauled at the braces under the shadow of that coast, +envying, as sailors will, the people on shore sleeping quietly in their +beds within sound of the sea. I imagine that not one head on those +envied pillows was made uneasy by the slightest premonition of the +realities of naval war the short lifetime of one generation was to bring +so close to their homes. + +Though far away from that region of kindly memories and traversing a part +of the North Sea much less known to me, I was deeply conscious of the +familiarity of my surroundings. It was a cloudy, nasty day: and the +aspects of Nature don't change, unless in the course of thousands of +years--or, perhaps, centuries. The Phoenicians, its first discoverers, +the Romans, the first imperial rulers of that sea, had experienced days +like this, so different in the wintry quality of the light, even on a +July afternoon, from anything they had ever known in their native +Mediterranean. For myself, a very late comer into that sea, and its +former pupil, I accorded amused recognition to the characteristic aspect +so well remembered from my days of training. The same old thing. A grey- +green expanse of smudgy waters grinning angrily at one with white foam- +ridges, and over all a cheerless, unglowing canopy, apparently made of +wet blotting-paper. From time to time a flurry of fine rain blew along +like a puff of smoke across the dots of distant fishing boats, very few, +very scattered, and tossing restlessly on an ever dissolving, ever re- +forming sky-line. + +Those flurries, and the steady rolling of the ship, accounted for the +emptiness of the decks, favouring my reminiscent mood. It might have +been a day of five and thirty years ago, when there were on this and +every other sea more sails and less smoke-stacks to be seen. Yet, thanks +to the unchangeable sea I could have given myself up to the illusion of a +revised past, had it not been for the periodical transit across my gaze +of a German passenger. He was marching round and round the boat deck +with characteristic determination. Two sturdy boys gambolled round him +in his progress like two disorderly satellites round their parent planet. +He was bringing them home, from their school in England, for their +holiday. What could have induced such a sound Teuton to entrust his +offspring to the unhealthy influences of that effete, corrupt, rotten and +criminal country I cannot imagine. It could hardly have been from +motives of economy. I did not speak to him. He trod the deck of that +decadent British ship with a scornful foot while his breast (and to a +large extent his stomach, too) appeared expanded by the consciousness of +a superior destiny. Later I could observe the same truculent bearing, +touched with the racial grotesqueness, in the men of the _Landwehr_ +corps, that passed through Cracow to reinforce the Austrian army in +Eastern Galicia. Indeed, the haughty passenger might very well have +been, most probably was, an officer of the _Landwehr_; and perhaps those +two fine active boys are orphans by now. Thus things acquire +significance by the lapse of time. A citizen, a father, a warrior, a +mote in the dust-cloud of six million fighting particles, an unconsidered +trifle for the jaws of war, his humanity was not consciously impressed on +my mind at the time. Mainly, for me, he was a sharp tapping of heels +round the corner of the deck-house, a white yachting cap and a green +overcoat getting periodically between my eyes and the shifting +cloud-horizon of the ashy-grey North Sea. He was but a shadowy intrusion +and a disregarded one, for, far away there to the West, in the direction +of the Dogger Bank, where fishermen go seeking their daily bread and +sometimes find their graves, I could behold an experience of my own in +the winter of '81, not of war, truly, but of a fairly lively contest with +the elements which were very angry indeed. + +There had been a troublesome week of it, including one hateful night--or +a night of hate (it isn't for nothing that the North Sea is also called +the German Ocean)--when all the fury stored in its heart seemed +concentrated on one ship which could do no better than float on her side +in an unnatural, disagreeable, precarious, and altogether intolerable +manner. There were on board, besides myself, seventeen men all good and +true, including a round enormous Dutchman who, in those hours between +sunset and sunrise, managed to lose his blown-out appearance somehow, +became as it were deflated, and thereafter for a good long time moved in +our midst wrinkled and slack all over like a half-collapsed balloon. The +whimpering of our deck-boy, a skinny, impressionable little scarecrow out +of a training-ship, for whom, because of the tender immaturity of his +nerves, this display of German Ocean frightfulness was too much (before +the year was out he developed into a sufficiently cheeky young ruffian), +his desolate whimpering, I say, heard between the gusts of that black, +savage night, was much more present to my mind and indeed to my senses +than the green overcoat and the white cap of the German passenger +circling the deck indefatigably, attended by his two gyrating children. + +"That's a very nice gentleman." This information, together with the fact +that he was a widower and a regular passenger twice a year by the ship, +was communicated to me suddenly by our captain. At intervals through the +day he would pop out of the chart-room and offer me short snatches of +conversation. He owned a simple soul and a not very entertaining mind, +and he was without malice and, I believe, quite unconsciously, a warm +Germanophil. And no wonder! As he told me himself, he had been fifteen +years on that run, and spent almost as much of his life in Hamburg as in +Harwich. + +"Wonderful people they are," he repeated from time to time, without +entering into particulars, but with many nods of sagacious obstinacy. +What he knew of them, I suppose, were a few commercial travellers and +small merchants, most likely. But I had observed long before that German +genius has a hypnotising power over half-baked souls and half-lighted +minds. There is an immense force of suggestion in highly organised +mediocrity. Had it not hypnotised half Europe? My man was very much +under the spell of German excellence. On the other hand, his contempt +for France was equally general and unbounded. I tried to advance some +arguments against this position, but I only succeeded in making him +hostile. "I believe you are a Frenchman yourself," he snarled at last, +giving me an intensely suspicious look; and forthwith broke off +communications with a man of such unsound sympathies. + +Hour by hour the blotting-paper sky and the great flat greenish smudge of +the sea had been taking on a darker tone, without any change in their +colouring and texture. Evening was coming on over the North Sea. Black +uninteresting hummocks of land appeared, dotting the duskiness of water +and clouds in the Eastern board: tops of islands fringing the German +shore. While I was looking at their antics amongst the waves--and for +all their solidity they were very elusive things in the failing +light--another passenger came out on deck. This one wore a dark overcoat +and a grey cap. The yellow leather strap of his binocular case crossed +his chest. His elderly red cheeks nourished but a very thin crop of +short white hairs, and the end of his nose was so perfectly round that it +determined the whole character of his physiognomy. Indeed nothing else +in it had the slightest chance to assert itself. His disposition, unlike +the widower's, appeared to be mild and humane. He offered me the loan of +his glasses. He had a wife and some small children concealed in the +depths of the ship, and he thought they were very well where they were. +His eldest son was about the decks somewhere. + +"We are Americans," he remarked weightily, but in a rather peculiar tone. +He spoke English with the accent of our captain's "wonderful people," and +proceeded to give me the history of the family's crossing the Atlantic in +a White Star liner. They remained in England just the time necessary for +a railway journey from Liverpool to Harwich. His people (those in the +depths of the ship) were naturally a little tired. + +At that moment a young man of about twenty, his son, rushed up to us from +the fore-deck in a state of intense elation. "Hurrah," he cried under +his breath. "The first German light! Hurrah!" + +And those two American citizens shook hands on it with the greatest +fervour, while I turned away and received full in the eyes the brilliant +wink of the Borkum lighthouse squatting low down in the darkness. The +shade of the night had settled on the North Sea. + +I do not think I have ever seen before a night so full of lights. The +great change of sea life since my time was brought home to me. I had +been conscious all day of an interminable procession of steamers. They +went on and on as if in chase of each other, the Baltic trade, the trade +of Scandinavia, of Denmark, of Germany, pitching heavily into a head sea +and bound for the gateway of Dover Straits. Singly, and in small +companies of two and three, they emerged from the dull, colourless, +sunless distances ahead as if the supply of rather roughly finished +mechanical toys were inexhaustible in some mysterious cheap store away +there, below the grey curve of the earth. Cargo steam vessels have +reached by this time a height of utilitarian ugliness which, when one +reflects that it is the product of human ingenuity, strikes hopeless awe +into one. These dismal creations look still uglier at sea than in port, +and with an added touch of the ridiculous. Their rolling waddle when +seen at a certain angle, their abrupt clockwork nodding in a sea-way, so +unlike the soaring lift and swing of a craft under sail, have in them +something caricatural, a suggestion of a low parody directed at noble +predecessors by an improved generation of dull, mechanical toilers, +conceited and without grace. + +When they switched on (each of these unlovely cargo tanks carried tame +lightning within its slab-sided body), when they switched on their lamps +they spangled the night with the cheap, electric, shop-glitter, here, +there, and everywhere, as of some High Street, broken up and washed out +to sea. Later, Heligoland cut into the overhead darkness with its +powerful beam, infinitely prolonged out of unfathomable night under the +clouds. + +I remained on deck until we stopped and a steam pilot-boat, so +overlighted amidships that one could not make out her complete shape, +glided across our bows and sent a pilot on board. I fear that the oar, +as a working implement, will become presently as obsolete as the sail. +The pilot boarded us in a motor-dinghy. More and more is mankind +reducing its physical activities to pulling levers and twirling little +wheels. Progress! Yet the older methods of meeting natural forces +demanded intelligence too; an equally fine readiness of wits. And +readiness of wits working in combination with the strength of muscles +made a more complete man. + +It was really a surprisingly small dinghy and it ran to and fro like a +water-insect fussing noisily down there with immense self-importance. +Within hail of us the hull of the Elbe lightship floated all dark and +silent under its enormous round, service lantern; a faithful black shadow +watching the broad estuary full of lights. + +Such was my first view of the Elbe approached under the wings of peace +ready for flight away from the luckless shores of Europe. Our visual +impressions remain with us so persistently that I find it extremely +difficult to hold fast to the rational belief that now everything is dark +over there, that the Elbe lightship has been towed away from its post of +duty, the triumphant beam of Heligoland extinguished, and the pilot-boat +laid up, or turned to warlike uses for lack of its proper work to do. And +obviously it must be so. + +Any trickle of oversea trade that passes yet that way must be creeping +along cautiously with the unlighted, war-blighted black coast close on +one hand, and sudden death on the other. For all the space we steamed +through that Sunday evening must now be one great minefield, sown thickly +with the seeds of hate; while submarines steal out to sea, over the very +spot perhaps where the insect-dinghy put a pilot on board of us with so +much fussy importance. Mines; Submarines. The last word in sea-warfare! +Progress--impressively disclosed by this war. + +There have been other wars! Wars not inferior in the greatness of the +stake and in the fierce animosity of feelings. During that one which was +finished a hundred years ago it happened that while the English Fleet was +keeping watch on Brest, an American, perhaps Fulton himself, offered to +the Maritime Prefect of the port and to the French Admiral, an invention +which would sink all the unsuspecting English ships one after another--or, +at any rate most of them. The offer was not even taken into +consideration; and the Prefect ends his report to the Minister in Paris +with a fine phrase of indignation: "It is not the sort of death one would +deal to brave men." + +And behold, before history had time to hatch another war of the like +proportions in the intensity of aroused passions and the greatness of +issues, the dead flavour of archaism descended on the manly sentiment of +those self-denying words. Mankind has been demoralised since by its own +mastery of mechanical appliances. Its spirit is apparently so weak now, +and its flesh has grown so strong, that it will face any deadly horror of +destruction and cannot resist the temptation to use any stealthy, +murderous contrivance. It has become the intoxicated slave of its own +detestable ingenuity. It is true, too, that since the Napoleonic time +another sort of war-doctrine has been inculcated in a nation, and held +out to the world. + + +IV. + + +On this journey of ours, which for me was essentially not a progress, but +a retracing of footsteps on the road of life, I had no beacons to look +for in Germany. I had never lingered in that land which, on the whole, +is so singularly barren of memorable manifestations of generous +sympathies and magnanimous impulses. An ineradicable, invincible, +provincialism of envy and vanity clings to the forms of its thought like +a frowsy garment. Even while yet very young I turned my eyes away from +it instinctively as from a threatening phantom. I believe that children +and dogs have, in their innocence, a special power of perception as far +as spectral apparitions and coming misfortunes are concerned. + +I let myself be carried through Germany as if it were pure space, without +sights, without sounds. No whispers of the war reached my voluntary +abstraction. And perhaps not so very voluntary after all! Each of us is +a fascinating spectacle to himself, and I had to watch my own personality +returning from another world, as it were, to revisit the glimpses of old +moons. Considering the condition of humanity, I am, perhaps, not so much +to blame for giving myself up to that occupation. We prize the sensation +of our continuity, and we can only capture it in that way. By watching. + +We arrived in Cracow late at night. After a scrambly supper, I said to +my eldest boy, "I can't go to bed. I am going out for a look round. +Coming?" + +He was ready enough. For him, all this was part of the interesting +adventure of the whole journey. We stepped out of the portal of the +hotel into an empty street, very silent and bright with moonlight. I +was, indeed, revisiting the glimpses of the moon. I felt so much like a +ghost that the discovery that I could remember such material things as +the right turn to take and the general direction of the street gave me a +moment of wistful surprise. + +The street, straight and narrow, ran into the great Market Square of the +town, the centre of its affairs and of the lighter side of its life. We +could see at the far end of the street a promising widening of space. At +the corner an unassuming (but armed) policeman, wearing ceremoniously at +midnight a pair of white gloves which made his big hands extremely +noticeable, turned his head to look at the grizzled foreigner holding +forth in a strange tongue to a youth on whose arm he leaned. + +The Square, immense in its solitude, was full to the brim of moonlight. +The garland of lights at the foot of the houses seemed to burn at the +bottom of a bluish pool. I noticed with infinite satisfaction that the +unnecessary trees the Municipality insisted upon sticking between the +stones had been steadily refusing to grow. They were not a bit bigger +than the poor victims I could remember. Also, the paving operations +seemed to be exactly at the same point at which I left them forty years +before. There were the dull, torn-up patches on that bright expanse, the +piles of paving material looking ominously black, like heads of rocks on +a silvery sea. Who was it that said that Time works wonders? What an +exploded superstition! As far as these trees and these paving stones +were concerned, it had worked nothing. The suspicion of the +unchangeableness of things already vaguely suggested to my senses by our +rapid drive from the railway station was agreeably strengthened within +me. + +"We are now on the line A.B.," I said to my companion, importantly. + +It was the name bestowed in my time on one of the sides of the Square by +the senior students of that town of classical learning and historical +relics. The common citizens knew nothing of it, and, even if they had, +would not have dreamed of taking it seriously. He who used it was of the +initiated, belonged to the Schools. We youngsters regarded that name as +a fine jest, the invention of a most excellent fancy. Even as I uttered +it to my boy I experienced again that sense of my privileged initiation. +And then, happening to look up at the wall, I saw in the light of the +corner lamp, a white, cast-iron tablet fixed thereon, bearing an +inscription in raised black letters, thus: "Line A.B." Heavens! The +name had been adopted officially! Any town urchin, any guttersnipe, any +herb-selling woman of the market-place, any wandering Boeotian, was free +to talk of the line A.B., to walk on the line A.B., to appoint to meet +his friends on the line A.B. It had become a mere name in a directory. I +was stunned by the extreme mutability of things. Time could work +wonders, and no mistake. A Municipality had stolen an invention of +excellent fancy, and a fine jest had turned into a horrid piece of cast- +iron. + +I proposed that we should walk to the other end of the line, using the +profaned name, not only without gusto, but with positive distaste. And +this, too, was one of the wonders of Time, for a bare minute had worked +that change. There was at the end of the line a certain street I wanted +to look at, I explained to my companion. + +To our right the unequal massive towers of St. Mary's Church soared aloft +into the ethereal radiance of the air, very black on their shaded sides, +glowing with a soft phosphorescent sheen on the others. In the distance +the Florian Gate, thick and squat under its pointed roof, barred the +street with the square shoulders of the old city wall. In the narrow, +brilliantly pale vista of bluish flagstones and silvery fronts of houses, +its black archway stood out small and very distinct. + +There was not a soul in sight, and not even the echo of a footstep for +our ears. Into this coldly illuminated and dumb emptiness there issued +out of my aroused memory, a small boy of eleven, wending his way, not +very fast, to a preparatory school for day-pupils on the second floor of +the third house down from the Florian Gate. It was in the winter months +of 1868. At eight o'clock of every morning that God made, sleet or +shine, I walked up Florian Street. But of that, my first school, I +remember very little. I believe that one of my co-sufferers there has +become a much appreciated editor of historical documents. But I didn't +suffer much from the various imperfections of my first school. I was +rather indifferent to school troubles. I had a private gnawing worm of +my own. This was the time of my father's last illness. Every evening at +seven, turning my back on the Florian Gate, I walked all the way to a big +old house in a quiet narrow street a good distance beyond the Great +Square. There, in a large drawing-room, panelled and bare, with heavy +cornices and a lofty ceiling, in a little oasis of light made by two +candles in a desert of dusk, I sat at a little table to worry and ink +myself all over till the task of my preparation was done. The table of +my toil faced a tall white door, which was kept closed; now and then it +would come ajar and a nun in a white coif would squeeze herself through +the crack, glide across the room, and disappear. There were two of these +noiseless nursing nuns. Their voices were seldom heard. For, indeed, +what could they have had to say? When they did speak to me it was with +their lips hardly moving, in a claustral, clear whisper. Our domestic +matters were ordered by the elderly housekeeper of our neighbour on the +second floor, a Canon of the Cathedral, lent for the emergency. She, +too, spoke but seldom. She wore a black dress with a cross hanging by a +chain on her ample bosom. And though when she spoke she moved her lips +more than the nuns, she never let her voice rise above a peacefully +murmuring note. The air around me was all piety, resignation, and +silence. + +I don't know what would have become of me if I had not been a reading +boy. My prep. finished I would have had nothing to do but sit and watch +the awful stillness of the sick room flow out through the closed door and +coldly enfold my scared heart. I suppose that in a futile childish way I +would have gone crazy. But I was a reading boy. There were many books +about, lying on consoles, on tables, and even on the floor, for we had +not had time to settle down. I read! What did I not read! Sometimes +the elder nun, gliding up and casting a mistrustful look on the open +pages, would lay her hand lightly on my head and suggest in a doubtful +whisper, "Perhaps it is not very good for you to read these books." I +would raise my eyes to her face mutely, and with a vague gesture of +giving it up she would glide away. + +Later in the evening, but not always, I would be permitted to tip-toe +into the sick room to say good-night to the figure prone on the bed, +which often could not acknowledge my presence but by a slow movement of +the eyes, put my lips dutifully to the nerveless hand lying on the +coverlet, and tip-toe out again. Then I would go to bed, in a room at +the end of the corridor, and often, not always, cry myself into a good +sound sleep. + +I looked forward to what was coming with an incredulous terror. I turned +my eyes from it sometimes with success, and yet all the time I had an +awful sensation of the inevitable. I had also moments of revolt which +stripped off me some of my simple trust in the government of the +universe. But when the inevitable entered the sick room and the white +door was thrown wide open, I don't think I found a single tear to shed. I +have a suspicion that the Canon's housekeeper looked on me as the most +callous little wretch on earth. + +The day of the funeral came in due course and all the generous "Youth of +the Schools," the grave Senate of the University, the delegations of the +Trade-guilds, might have obtained (if they cared) _de visu_ evidence of +the callousness of the little wretch. There was nothing in my aching +head but a few words, some such stupid sentences as, "It's done," or, +"It's accomplished" (in Polish it is much shorter), or something of the +sort, repeating itself endlessly. The long procession moved out of the +narrow street, down a long street, past the Gothic front of St. Mary's +under its unequal towers, towards the Florian Gate. + +In the moonlight-flooded silence of the old town of glorious tombs and +tragic memories, I could see again the small boy of that day following a +hearse; a space kept clear in which I walked alone, conscious of an +enormous following, the clumsy swaying of the tall black machine, the +chanting of the surpliced clergy at the head, the flames of tapers +passing under the low archway of the gate, the rows of bared heads on the +pavements with fixed, serious eyes. Half the population had turned out +on that fine May afternoon. They had not come to honour a great +achievement, or even some splendid failure. The dead and they were +victims alike of an unrelenting destiny which cut them off from every +path of merit and glory. They had come only to render homage to the +ardent fidelity of the man whose life had been a fearless confession in +word and deed of a creed which the simplest heart in that crowd could +feel and understand. + +It seemed to me that if I remained longer there in that narrow street I +should become the helpless prey of the Shadows I had called up. They +were crowding upon me, enigmatic and insistent in their clinging air of +the grave that tasted of dust and of the bitter vanity of old hopes. + +"Let's go back to the hotel, my boy," I said. "It's getting late." + +It will be easily understood that I neither thought nor dreamt that night +of a possible war. For the next two days I went about amongst my fellow +men, who welcomed me with the utmost consideration and friendliness, but +unanimously derided my fears of a war. They would not believe in it. It +was impossible. On the evening of the second day I was in the hotel's +smoking room, an irrationally private apartment, a sanctuary for a few +choice minds of the town, always pervaded by a dim religious light, and +more hushed than any club reading-room I have ever been in. Gathered +into a small knot, we were discussing the situation in subdued tones +suitable to the genius of the place. + +A gentleman with a fine head of white hair suddenly pointed an impatient +finger in my direction and apostrophised me. + +"What I want to know is whether, should there be war, England would come +in." + +The time to draw a breath, and I spoke out for the Cabinet without +faltering. + +"Most assuredly. I should think all Europe knows that by this time." + +He took hold of the lapel of my coat, and, giving it a slight jerk for +greater emphasis, said forcibly: + +"Then, if England will, as you say, and all the world knows it, there can +be no war. Germany won't be so mad as that." + +On the morrow by noon we read of the German ultimatum. The day after +came the declaration of war, and the Austrian mobilisation order. We +were fairly caught. All that remained for me to do was to get my party +out of the way of eventual shells. The best move which occurred to me +was to snatch them up instantly into the mountains to a Polish health +resort of great repute--which I did (at the rate of one hundred miles in +eleven hours) by the last civilian train permitted to leave Cracow for +the next three weeks. + +And there we remained amongst the Poles from all parts of Poland, not +officially interned, but simply unable to obtain the permission to travel +by train, or road. It was a wonderful, a poignant two months. This is +not the time, and, perhaps, not the place, to enlarge upon the tragic +character of the situation; a whole people seeing the culmination of its +misfortunes in a final catastrophe, unable to trust anyone, to appeal to +anyone, to look for help from any quarter; deprived of all hope and even +of its last illusions, and unable, in the trouble of minds and the unrest +of consciences, to take refuge in stoical acceptance. I have seen all +this. And I am glad I have not so many years left me to remember that +appalling feeling of inexorable fate, tangible, palpable, come after so +many cruel years, a figure of dread, murmuring with iron lips the final +words: Ruin--and Extinction. + +But enough of this. For our little band there was the awful anguish of +incertitude as to the real nature of events in the West. It is difficult +to give an idea how ugly and dangerous things looked to us over there. +Belgium knocked down and trampled out of existence, France giving in +under repeated blows, a military collapse like that of 1870, and England +involved in that disastrous alliance, her army sacrificed, her people in +a panic! Polish papers, of course, had no other but German sources of +information. Naturally, we did not believe all we read, but it was +sometimes excessively difficult to react with sufficient firmness. + +We used to shut our door, and there, away from everybody, we sat weighing +the news, hunting up discrepancies, scenting lies, finding reasons for +hopefulness, and generally cheering each other up. But it was a beastly +time. People used to come to me with very serious news and ask, "What do +you think of it?" And my invariable answer was: "Whatever has happened, +or is going to happen, whoever wants to make peace, you may be certain +that England will not make it, not for ten years, if necessary."' + +But enough of this, too. Through the unremitting efforts of Polish +friends we obtained at last the permission to travel to Vienna. Once +there, the wing of the American Eagle was extended over our uneasy heads. +We cannot be sufficiently grateful to the American Ambassador (who, all +along, interested himself in our fate) for his exertions on our behalf, +his invaluable assistance and the real friendliness of his reception in +Vienna. Owing to Mr. Penfield's action we obtained the permission to +leave Austria. And it was a near thing, for his Excellency has informed +my American publishers since that a week later orders were issued to have +us detained till the end of the war. However, we effected our hair's- +breadth escape into Italy; and, reaching Genoa, took passage in a Dutch +mail steamer, homeward-bound from Java with London as a port of call. + +On that sea-route I might have picked up a memory at every mile if the +past had not been eclipsed by the tremendous actuality. We saw the signs +of it in the emptiness of the Mediterranean, the aspect of Gibraltar, the +misty glimpse in the Bay of Biscay of an outward-bound convoy of +transports, in the presence of British submarines in the Channel. +Innumerable drifters flying the Naval flag dotted the narrow waters, and +two Naval officers coming on board off the South Foreland, piloted the +ship through the Downs. + +The Downs! There they were, thick with the memories of my sea-life. But +what were to me now the futilities of an individual past? As our ship's +head swung into the estuary of the Thames, a deep, yet faint, concussion +passed through the air, a shock rather than a sound, which missing my ear +found its way straight into my heart. Turning instinctively to look at +my boys, I happened to meet my wife's eyes. She also had felt +profoundly, coming from far away across the grey distances of the sea, +the faint boom of the big guns at work on the coast of Flanders--shaping +the future. + + + +FIRST NEWS--1918 + + +Four years ago, on the first day of August, in the town of Cracow, +Austrian Poland, nobody would believe that the war was coming. My +apprehensions were met by the words: "We have had these scares before." +This incredulity was so universal amongst people of intelligence and +information, that even I, who had accustomed myself to look at the +inevitable for years past, felt my conviction shaken. At that time, it +must be noted, the Austrian army was already partly mobilised, and as we +came through Austrian Silesia we had noticed all the bridges being +guarded by soldiers. + +"Austria will back down," was the opinion of all the well-informed men +with whom I talked on the first of August. The session of the University +was ended and the students were either all gone or going home to +different parts of Poland, but the professors had not all departed yet on +their respective holidays, and amongst them the tone of scepticism +prevailed generally. Upon the whole there was very little inclination to +talk about the possibility of a war. Nationally, the Poles felt that +from their point of view there was nothing to hope from it. "Whatever +happens," said a very distinguished man to me, "we may be certain that +it's our skins which will pay for it as usual." A well-known literary +critic and writer on economical subjects said to me: "War seems a +material impossibility, precisely because it would mean the complete ruin +of all material interests." + +He was wrong, as we know; but those who said that Austria as usual would +back down were, as a matter of fact perfectly right. Austria did back +down. What these men did not foresee was the interference of Germany. +And one cannot blame them very well; for who could guess that, when the +balance stood even, the German sword would be thrown into the scale with +nothing in the open political situation to justify that act, or rather +that crime--if crime can ever be justified? For, as the same intelligent +man said to me: "As it is, those people" (meaning Germans) "have very +nearly the whole world in their economic grip. Their prestige is even +greater than their actual strength. It can get for them practically +everything they want. Then why risk it?" And there was no apparent +answer to the question put in that way. I must also say that the Poles +had no illusions about the strength of Russia. Those illusions were the +monopoly of the Western world. + +Next day the librarian of the University invited me to come and have a +look at the library which I had not seen since I was fourteen years old. +It was from him that I learned that the greater part of my father's MSS. +was preserved there. He confessed that he had not looked them through +thoroughly yet, but he told me that there was a lot of very important +letters bearing on the epoch from '60 to '63, to and from many prominent +Poles of that time: and he added: "There is a bundle of correspondence +that will appeal to you personally. Those are letters written by your +father to an intimate friend in whose papers they were found. They +contain many references to yourself, though you couldn't have been more +than four years old at the time. Your father seems to have been +extremely interested in his son." That afternoon I went to the +University, taking with me _my_ eldest son. The attention of that young +Englishman was mainly attracted by some relics of Copernicus in a glass +case. I saw the bundle of letters and accepted the kind proposal of the +librarian that he should have them copied for me during the holidays. In +the range of the deserted vaulted rooms lined with books, full of august +memories, and in the passionless silence of all this enshrined wisdom, we +walked here and there talking of the past, the great historical past in +which lived the inextinguishable spark of national life; and all around +us the centuries-old buildings lay still and empty, composing themselves +to rest after a year of work on the minds of another generation. + +No echo of the German ultimatum to Russia penetrated that academical +peace. But the news had come. When we stepped into the street out of +the deserted main quadrangle, we three, I imagine, were the only people +in the town who did not know of it. My boy and I parted from the +librarian (who hurried home to pack up for his holiday) and walked on to +the hotel, where we found my wife actually in the car waiting for us to +take a run of some ten miles to the country house of an old school-friend +of mine. He had been my greatest chum. In my wanderings about the world +I had heard that his later career both at school and at the University +had been of extraordinary brilliance--in classics, I believe. But in +this, the iron-grey moustache period of his life, he informed me with +badly concealed pride that he had gained world fame as the Inventor--no, +Inventor is not the word--Producer, I believe would be the right term--of +a wonderful kind of beetroot seed. The beet grown from this seed +contained more sugar to the square inch--or was it to the square +root?--than any other kind of beet. He exported this seed, not only with +profit (and even to the United States), but with a certain amount of +glory which seemed to have gone slightly to his head. There is a +fundamental strain of agriculturalist in a Pole which no amount of +brilliance, even classical, can destroy. While we were having tea +outside, looking down the lovely slope of the gardens at the view of the +city in the distance, the possibilities of the war faded from our minds. +Suddenly my friend's wife came to us with a telegram in her hand and said +calmly: "General mobilisation, do you know?" We looked at her like men +aroused from a dream. "Yes," she insisted, "they are already taking the +horses out of the ploughs and carts." I said: "We had better go back to +town as quick as we can," and my friend assented with a troubled look: +"Yes, you had better." As we passed through villages on our way back we +saw mobs of horses assembled on the commons with soldiers guarding them, +and groups of villagers looking on silently at the officers with their +note-books checking deliveries and writing out receipts. Some old +peasant women were already weeping aloud. + +When our car drew up at the door of the hotel, the manager himself came +to help my wife out. In the first moment I did not quite recognise him. +His luxuriant black locks were gone, his head was closely cropped, and as +I glanced at it he smiled and said: "I shall sleep at the barracks to- +night." + +I cannot reproduce the atmosphere of that night, the first night after +mobilisation. The shops and the gateways of the houses were of course +closed, but all through the dark hours the town hummed with voices; the +echoes of distant shouts entered the open windows of our bedroom. Groups +of men talking noisily walked in the middle of the roadway escorted by +distressed women: men of all callings and of all classes going to report +themselves at the fortress. Now and then a military car tooting +furiously would whisk through the streets empty of wheeled traffic, like +an intensely black shadow under the great flood of electric lights on the +grey pavement. + +But what produced the greatest impression on my mind was a gathering at +night in the coffee-room of my hotel of a few men of mark whom I was +asked to join. It was about one o'clock in the morning. The shutters +were up. For some reason or other the electric light was not switched +on, and the big room was lit up only by a few tall candles, just enough +for us to see each other's faces by. I saw in those faces the awful +desolation of men whose country, torn in three, found itself engaged in +the contest with no will of its own, and not even the power to assert +itself at the cost of life. All the past was gone, and there was no +future, whatever happened; no road which did not seem to lead to moral +annihilation. I remember one of those men addressing me after a period +of mournful silence compounded of mental exhaustion and unexpressed +forebodings. + +"What do you think England will do? If there is a ray of hope anywhere +it is only there." + +I said: "I believe I know what England will do" (this was before the news +of the violation of Belgian neutrality arrived), "though I won't tell +you, for I am not absolutely certain. But I can tell you what I am +absolutely certain of. It is this: If England comes into the war, then, +no matter who may want to make peace at the end of six months at the cost +of right and justice, England will keep on fighting for years if +necessary. You may reckon on that." + +"What, even alone?" asked somebody across the room. + +I said: "Yes, even alone. But if things go so far as that England will +not be alone." + +I think that at that moment I must have been inspired. + + + +WELL DONE--1918 + + +I. + + +It can be safely said that for the last four years the seamen of Great +Britain have done well. I mean that every kind and sort of human being +classified as seaman, steward, foremast hand, fireman, lamp-trimmer, +mate, master, engineer, and also all through the innumerable ratings of +the Navy up to that of Admiral, has done well. I don't say marvellously +well or miraculously well or wonderfully well or even very well, because +these are simply over-statements of undisciplined minds. I don't deny +that a man may be a marvellous being, but this is not likely to be +discovered in his lifetime, and not always even after he is dead. Man's +marvellousness is a hidden thing, because the secrets of his heart are +not to be read by his fellows. As to a man's work, if it is done well it +is the very utmost that can be said. You can do well, and you can do no +more for people to see. In the Navy, where human values are thoroughly +understood, the highest signal of commendation complimenting a ship (that +is, a ship's company) on some achievements consists exactly of those two +simple words "Well done," followed by the name of the ship. Not +marvellously done, astonishingly done, wonderfully done--no, only just: + +"Well done, so-and-so." + +And to the men it is a matter of infinite pride that somebody should +judge it proper to mention aloud, as it were, that they have done well. +It is a memorable occurrence, for in the sea services you are expected +professionally and as a matter of course to do well, because nothing less +will do. And in sober speech no man can be expected to do more than +well. The superlatives are mere signs of uninformed wonder. Thus the +official signal which can express nothing but a delicate share of +appreciation becomes a great honour. + +Speaking now as a purely civil seaman (or, perhaps, I ought to say +civilian, because politeness is not what I have in my mind) I may say +that I have never expected the Merchant Service to do otherwise than well +during the war. There were people who obviously did not feel the same +confidence, nay, who even confidently expected to see the collapse of +merchant seamen's courage. I must admit that such pronouncements did +arrest my attention. In my time I have never been able to detect any +faint hearts in the ships' companies with whom I have served in various +capacities. But I reflected that I had left the sea in '94, twenty years +before the outbreak of the war that was to apply its severe test to the +quality of modern seamen. Perhaps they had deteriorated, I said +unwillingly to myself. I remembered also the alarmist articles I had +read about the great number of foreigners in the British Merchant +Service, and I didn't know how far these lamentations were justified. + +In my time the proportion of non-Britishers in the crews of the ships +flying the red ensign was rather under one-third, which, as a matter of +fact, was less than the proportion allowed under the very strict French +navigation laws for the crews of the ships of that nation. For the +strictest laws aiming at the preservation of national seamen had to +recognise the difficulties of manning merchant ships all over the world. +The one-third of the French law seemed to be the irreducible minimum. But +the British proportion was even less. Thus it may be said that up to the +date I have mentioned the crews of British merchant ships engaged in deep +water voyages to Australia, to the East Indies and round the Horn were +essentially British. The small proportion of foreigners which I remember +were mostly Scandinavians, and my general impression remains that those +men were good stuff. They appeared always able and ready to do their +duty by the flag under which they served. The majority were Norwegians, +whose courage and straightness of character are matters beyond doubt. I +remember also a couple of Finns, both carpenters, of course, and very +good craftsmen; a Swede, the most scientific sailmaker I ever met; +another Swede, a steward, who really might have been called a British +seaman since he had sailed out of London for over thirty years, a rather +superior person; one Italian, an everlastingly smiling but a pugnacious +character; one Frenchman, a most excellent sailor, tireless and +indomitable under very difficult circumstances; one Hollander, whose +placid manner of looking at the ship going to pieces under our feet I +shall never forget, and one young, colourless, muscularly very strong +German, of no particular character. Of non-European crews, lascars and +Kalashes, I have had very little experience, and that was only in one +steamship and for something less than a year. It was on the same +occasion that I had my only sight of Chinese firemen. Sight is the exact +word. One didn't speak to them. One saw them going along the decks, to +and fro, characteristic figures with rolled-up pigtails, very dirty when +coming off duty and very clean-faced when going on duty. They never +looked at anybody, and one never had occasion to address them directly. +Their appearances in the light of day were very regular, and yet somewhat +ghostlike in their detachment and silence. + +But of the white crews of British ships and almost exclusively British in +blood and descent, the immediate predecessors of the men whose worth the +nation has discovered for itself to-day, I have had a thorough +experience. At first amongst them, then with them, I have shared all the +conditions of their very special life. For it was very special. In my +early days, starting out on a voyage was like being launched into +Eternity. I say advisedly Eternity instead of Space, because of the +boundless silence which swallowed up one for eighty days--for one hundred +days--for even yet more days of an existence without echoes and whispers. +Like Eternity itself! For one can't conceive a vocal Eternity. An +enormous silence, in which there was nothing to connect one with the +Universe but the incessant wheeling about of the sun and other celestial +bodies, the alternation of light and shadow, eternally chasing each other +over the sky. The time of the earth, though most carefully recorded by +the half-hourly bells, did not count in reality. + +It was a special life, and the men were a very special kind of men. By +this I don't mean to say they were more complex than the generality of +mankind. Neither were they very much simpler. I have already admitted +that man is a marvellous creature, and no doubt those particular men were +marvellous enough in their way. But in their collective capacity they +can be best defined as men who lived under the command to do well, or +perish utterly. I have written of them with all the truth that was in +me, and with an the impartiality of which I was capable. Let me not be +misunderstood in this statement. Affection can be very exacting, and can +easily miss fairness on the critical side. I have looked upon them with +a jealous eye, expecting perhaps even more than it was strictly fair to +expect. And no wonder--since I had elected to be one of them very +deliberately, very completely, without any looking back or looking +elsewhere. The circumstances were such as to give me the feeling of +complete identification, a very vivid comprehension that if I wasn't one +of them I was nothing at all. But what was most difficult to detect was +the nature of the deep impulses which these men obeyed. What spirit was +it that inspired the unfailing manifestations of their simple fidelity? +No outward cohesive force of compulsion or discipline was holding them +together or had ever shaped their unexpressed standards. It was very +mysterious. At last I came to the conclusion that it must be something +in the nature of the life itself; the sea-life chosen blindly, embraced +for the most part accidentally by those men who appeared but a loose +agglomeration of individuals toiling for their living away from the eyes +of mankind. Who can tell how a tradition comes into the world? We are +children of the earth. It may be that the noblest tradition is but the +offspring of material conditions, of the hard necessities besetting men's +precarious lives. But once it has been born it becomes a spirit. Nothing +can extinguish its force then. Clouds of greedy selfishness, the subtle +dialectics of revolt or fear, may obscure it for a time, but in very +truth it remains an immortal ruler invested with the power of honour and +shame. + + +II. + + +The mysteriously born tradition of sea-craft commands unity in a body of +workers engaged in an occupation in which men have to depend upon each +other. It raises them, so to speak, above the frailties of their dead +selves. I don't wish to be suspected of lack of judgment and of blind +enthusiasm. I don't claim special morality or even special manliness for +the men who in my time really lived at sea, and at the present time live +at any rate mostly at sea. But in their qualities as well as in their +defects, in their weaknesses as well as in their "virtue," there was +indubitably something apart. They were never exactly of the earth +earthly. They couldn't be that. Chance or desire (mostly desire) had +set them apart, often in their very childhood; and what is to be remarked +is that from the very nature of things this early appeal, this early +desire, had to be of an imaginative kind. Thus their simple minds had a +sort of sweetness. They were in a way preserved. I am not alluding here +to the preserving qualities of the salt in the sea. The salt of the sea +is a very good thing in its way; it preserves for instance one from +catching a beastly cold while one remains wet for weeks together in the +"roaring forties." But in sober unpoetical truth the sea-salt never gets +much further than the seaman's skin, which in certain latitudes it takes +the opportunity to encrust very thoroughly. That and nothing more. And +then, what is this sea, the subject of so many apostrophes in verse and +prose addressed to its greatness and its mystery by men who had never +penetrated either the one or the other? The sea is uncertain, arbitrary, +featureless, and violent. Except when helped by the varied majesty of +the sky, there is something inane in its serenity and something stupid in +its wrath, which is endless, boundless, persistent, and futile--a grey, +hoary thing raging like an old ogre uncertain of its prey. Its very +immensity is wearisome. At any time within the navigating centuries +mankind might have addressed it with the words: "What are you, after all? +Oh, yes, we know. The greatest scene of potential terror, a devouring +enigma of space. Yes. But our lives have been nothing if not a +continuous defiance of what you can do and what you may hold; a spiritual +and material defiance carried on in our plucky cockleshells on and on +beyond the successive provocations of your unreadable horizons." + +Ah, but the charm of the sea! Oh, yes, charm enough. Or rather a sort +of unholy fascination as of an elusive nymph whose embrace is death, and +a Medusa's head whose stare is terror. That sort of charm is calculated +to keep men morally in order. But as to sea-salt, with its particular +bitterness like nothing else on earth, that, I am safe to say, penetrates +no further than the seamen's lips. With them the inner soundness is +caused by another kind of preservative of which (nobody will be surprised +to hear) the main ingredient is a certain kind of love that has nothing +to do with the futile smiles and the futile passions of the sea. + +Being love this feeling is naturally naive and imaginative. It has also +in it that strain of fantasy that is so often, nay almost invariably, to +be found in the temperament of a true seaman. But I repeat that I claim +no particular morality for seamen. I will admit without difficulty that +I have found amongst them the usual defects of mankind, characters not +quite straight, uncertain tempers, vacillating wills, capriciousness, +small meannesses; all this coming out mostly on the contact with the +shore; and all rather naive, peculiar, a little fantastic. I have even +had a downright thief in my experience. One. + +This is indeed a minute proportion, but it might have been my luck; and +since I am writing in eulogy of seamen I feel irresistibly tempted to +talk about this unique specimen; not indeed to offer him as an example of +morality, but to bring out certain characteristics and set out a certain +point of view. He was a large, strong man with a guileless countenance, +not very communicative with his shipmates, but when drawn into any sort +of conversation displaying a very painstaking earnestness. He was fair +and candid-eyed, of a very satisfactory smartness, and, from the officer- +of-the-watch point of view,--altogether dependable. Then, suddenly, he +went and stole. And he didn't go away from his honourable kind to do +that thing to somebody on shore; he stole right there on the spot, in +proximity to his shipmates, on board his own ship, with complete +disregard for old Brown, our night watchman (whose fame for +trustworthiness was utterly blasted for the rest of the voyage) and in +such a way as to bring the profoundest possible trouble to all the +blameless souls animating that ship. He stole eleven golden sovereigns, +and a gold pocket chronometer and chain. I am really in doubt whether +the crime should not be entered under the category of sacrilege rather +than theft. Those things belonged to the captain! There was certainly +something in the nature of the violation of a sanctuary, and of a +particularly impudent kind, too, because he got his plunder out of the +captain's state-room while the captain was asleep there. But look, now, +at the fantasy of the man! After going through the pockets of the +clothes, he did not hasten to retreat. No. He went deliberately into +the saloon and removed from the sideboard two big heavy, silver-plated +lamps, which he carried to the fore-end of the ship and stood +symmetrically on the knight-heads. This, I must explain, means that he +took them away as far as possible from the place where they belonged. +These were the deeds of darkness. In the morning the bo'sun came along +dragging after him a hose to wash the foc'sle head, and, beholding the +shiny cabin lamps, resplendent in the morning light, one on each side of +the bowsprit, he was paralysed with awe. He dropped the nozzle from his +nerveless hands--and such hands, too! I happened along, and he said to +me in a distracted whisper: "Look at that, sir, look." "Take them back +aft at once yourself," I said, very amazed, too. As we approached the +quarterdeck we perceived the steward, a prey to a sort of sacred horror, +holding up before us the captain's trousers. + +Bronzed men with brooms and buckets in their hands stood about with open +mouths. "I have found them lying in the passage outside the captain's +door," the steward declared faintly. The additional statement that the +captain's watch was gone from its hook by the bedside raised the painful +sensation to the highest pitch. We knew then we had a thief amongst us. +Our thief! Behold the solidarity of a ship's company. He couldn't be to +us like any other thief. We all had to live under the shadow of his +crime for days; but the police kept on investigating, and one morning a +young woman appeared on board swinging a parasol, attended by two +policemen, and identified the culprit. She was a barmaid of some bar +near the Circular Quay, and knew really nothing of our man except that he +looked like a respectable sailor. She had seen him only twice in her +life. On the second occasion he begged her nicely as a great favour to +take care for him of a small solidly tied-up paper parcel for a day or +two. But he never came near her again. At the end of three weeks she +opened it, and, of course, seeing the contents, was much alarmed, and +went to the nearest police-station for advice. The police took her at +once on board our ship, where all hands were mustered on the quarterdeck. +She stared wildly at all our faces, pointed suddenly a finger with a +shriek, "That's the man," and incontinently went off into a fit of +hysterics in front of thirty-six seamen. I must say that never in my +life did I see a ship's company look so frightened. Yes, in this tale of +guilt, there was a curious absence of mere criminality, and a touch of +that fantasy which is often a part of a seaman's character. It wasn't +greed that moved him, I think. It was something much less simple: +boredom, perhaps, or a bet, or the pleasure of defiance. + +And now for the point of view. It was given to me by a short, +black-bearded A.B. of the crew, who on sea passages washed my flannel +shirts, mended my clothes and, generally, looked after my room. He was +an excellent needleman and washerman, and a very good sailor. Standing +in this peculiar relation to me, he considered himself privileged to open +his mind on the matter one evening when he brought back to my cabin three +clean and neatly folded shirts. He was profoundly pained. He said: +"What a ship's company! Never seen such a crowd! Liars, cheats, +thieves. . . " + +It was a needlessly jaundiced view. There were in that ship's company +three or four fellows who dealt in tall yarns, and I knew that on the +passage out there had been a dispute over a game in the foc'sle once or +twice of a rather acute kind, so that all card-playing had to be +abandoned. In regard to thieves, as we know, there was only one, and he, +I am convinced, came out of his reserve to perform an exploit rather than +to commit a crime. But my black-bearded friend's indignation had its +special morality, for he added, with a burst of passion: "And on board +our ship, too--a ship like this. . ." + +Therein lies the secret of the seamen's special character as a body. The +ship, this ship, our ship, the ship we serve, is the moral symbol of our +life. A ship has to be respected, actually and ideally; her merit, her +innocence, are sacred things. Of all the creations of man she is the +closest partner of his toil and courage. From every point of view it is +imperative that you should do well by her. And, as always in the case of +true love, all you can do for her adds only to the tale of her merits in +your heart. Mute and compelling, she claims not only your fidelity, but +your respect. And the supreme "Well done!" which you may earn is made +over to her. + + +III. + + +It is my deep conviction, or, perhaps, I ought to say my deep feeling +born from personal experience, that it is not the sea but the ships of +the sea that guide and command that spirit of adventure which some say is +the second nature of British men. I don't want to provoke a controversy +(for intellectually I am rather a Quietist) but I venture to affirm that +the main characteristic of the British men spread all over the world, is +not the spirit of adventure so much as the spirit of service. I think +that this could be demonstrated from the history of great voyages and the +general activity of the race. That the British man has always liked his +service to be adventurous rather than otherwise cannot be denied, for +each British man began by being young in his time when all risk has a +glamour. Afterwards, with the course of years, risk became a part of his +daily work; he would have missed it from his side as one misses a loved +companion. + +The mere love of adventure is no saving grace. It is no grace at all. It +lays a man under no obligation of faithfulness to an idea and even to his +own self. Roughly speaking, an adventurer may be expected to have +courage, or at any rate may be said to need it. But courage in itself is +not an ideal. A successful highwayman showed courage of a sort, and +pirate crews have been known to fight with courage or perhaps only with +reckless desperation in the manner of cornered rats. There is nothing in +the world to prevent a mere lover or pursuer of adventure from running at +any moment. There is his own self, his mere taste for excitement, the +prospect of some sort of gain, but there is no sort of loyalty to bind +him in honour to consistent conduct. I have noticed that the majority of +mere lovers of adventure are mightily careful of their skins; and the +proof of it is that so many of them manage to keep it whole to an +advanced age. You find them in mysterious nooks of islands and +continents, mostly red-nosed and watery-eyed, and not even amusingly +boastful. There is nothing more futile under the sun than a mere +adventurer. He might have loved at one time--which would have been a +saving grace. I mean loved adventure for itself. But if so, he was +bound to lose this grace very soon. Adventure by itself is but a +phantom, a dubious shape without a heart. Yes, there is nothing more +futile than an adventurer; but nobody can say that the adventurous +activities of the British race are stamped with the futility of a chase +after mere emotions. + +The successive generations that went out to sea from these Isles went out +to toil desperately in adventurous conditions. A man is a worker. If he +is not that he is nothing. Just nothing--like a mere adventurer. Those +men understood the nature of their work, but more or less dimly, in +various degrees of imperfection. The best and greatest of their leaders +even had never seen it clearly, because of its magnitude and the +remoteness of its end. This is the common fate of mankind, whose most +positive achievements are born from dreams and visions followed loyally +to an unknown destination. And it doesn't matter. For the great mass of +mankind the only saving grace that is needed is steady fidelity to what +is nearest to hand and heart in the short moment of each human effort. In +other and in greater words, what is needed is a sense of immediate duty, +and a feeling of impalpable constraint. Indeed, seamen and duty are all +the time inseparable companions. It has been suggested to me that this +sense of duty is not a patriotic sense or a religious sense, or even a +social sense in a seaman. I don't know. It seems to me that a seaman's +duty may be an unconscious compound of these three, something perhaps +smaller than either, but something much more definite for the simple mind +and more adapted to the humbleness of the seaman's task. It has been +suggested also to me that the impalpable constraint is put upon the +nature of a seaman by the Spirit of the Sea, which he serves with a dumb +and dogged devotion. + +Those are fine words conveying a fine idea. But this I do know, that it +is very difficult to display a dogged devotion to a mere spirit, however +great. In everyday life ordinary men require something much more +material, effective, definite and symbolic on which to concentrate their +love and their devotion. And then, what is it, this Spirit of the Sea? +It is too great and too elusive to be embraced and taken to a human +breast. All that a guileless or guileful seaman knows of it is its +hostility, its exaction of toil as endless as its ever-renewed horizons. +No. What awakens the seaman's sense of duty, what lays that impalpable +constraint upon the strength of his manliness, what commands his not +always dumb if always dogged devotion, is not the spirit of the sea but +something that in his eyes has a body, a character, a fascination, and +almost a soul--it is his ship. + +There is not a day that has passed for many centuries now without the sun +seeing scattered over all the seas groups of British men whose material +and moral existence is conditioned by their loyalty to each other and +their faithful devotion to a ship. + +Each age has sent its contingent, not of sons (for the great mass of +seamen have always been a childless lot) but of loyal and obscure +successors taking up the modest but spiritual inheritance of a hard life +and simple duties; of duties so simple that nothing ever could shake the +traditional attitude born from the physical conditions of the service. It +was always the ship, bound on any possible errand in the service of the +nation, that has been the stage for the exercise of seamen's primitive +virtues. The dimness of great distances and the obscurity of lives +protected them from the nation's admiring gaze. Those scattered distant +ships' companies seemed to the eyes of the earth only one degree removed +(on the right side, I suppose) from the other strange monsters of the +deep. If spoken of at all they were spoken of in tones of +half-contemptuous indulgence. A good many years ago it was my lot to +write about one of those ships' companies on a certain sea, under certain +circumstances, in a book of no particular length. + +That small group of men whom I tried to limn with loving care, but +sparing none of their weaknesses, was characterised by a friendly +reviewer as a lot of engaging ruffians. This gave me some food for +thought. Was it, then, in that guise that they appeared through the +mists of the sea, distant, perplexed, and simple-minded? And what on +earth is an "engaging ruffian"? He must be a creature of literary +imagination, I thought, for the two words don't match in my personal +experience. It has happened to me to meet a few ruffians here and there, +but I never found one of them "engaging." I consoled myself, however, by +the reflection that the friendly reviewer must have been talking like a +parrot, which so often seems to understand what it says. + +Yes, in the mists of the sea, and in their remoteness from the rest of +the race, the shapes of those men appeared distorted, uncouth and +faint--so faint as to be almost invisible. It needed the lurid light of +the engines of war to bring them out into full view, very simple, without +worldly graces, organised now into a body of workers by the genius of one +of themselves, who gave them a place and a voice in the social scheme; +but in the main still apart in their homeless, childless generations, +scattered in loyal groups over all the seas, giving faithful care to +their ships and serving the nation, which, since they are seamen, can +give them no reward but the supreme "Well Done." + + + +TRADITION--1918 + + +"Work is the law. Like iron that lying idle degenerates into a mass of +useless rust, like water that in an unruffled pool sickens into a +stagnant and corrupt state, so without action the spirit of men turns to +a dead thing, loses its force, ceases prompting us to leave some trace of +ourselves on this earth." The sense of the above lines does not belong +to me. It may be found in the note-books of one of the greatest artists +that ever lived, Leonardo da Vinci. It has a simplicity and a truth +which no amount of subtle comment can destroy. + +The Master who had meditated so deeply on the rebirth of arts and +sciences, on the inward beauty of all things,--ships' lines, women's +faces--and on the visible aspects of nature was profoundly right in his +pronouncement on the work that is done on the earth. From the hard work +of men are born the sympathetic consciousness of a common destiny, the +fidelity to right practice which makes great craftsmen, the sense of +right conduct which we may call honour, the devotion to our calling and +the idealism which is not a misty, winged angel without eyes, but a +divine figure of terrestrial aspect with a clear glance and with its feet +resting firmly on the earth on which it was born. + +And work will overcome all evil, except ignorance, which is the condition +of humanity and, like the ambient air, fills the space between the +various sorts and conditions of men, which breeds hatred, fear, and +contempt between the masses of mankind, and puts on men's lips, on their +innocent lips, words that are thoughtless and vain. + +Thoughtless, for instance, were the words that (in all innocence, I +believe) came on the lips of a prominent statesman making in the House of +Commons an eulogistic reference to the British Merchant Service. In this +name I include men of diverse status and origin, who live on and by the +sea, by it exclusively, outside all professional pretensions and social +formulas, men for whom not only their daily bread but their collective +character, their personal achievement and their individual merit come +from the sea. Those words of the statesman were meant kindly; but, after +all, this is not a complete excuse. Rightly or wrongly, we expect from a +man of national importance a larger and at the same time a more +scrupulous precision of speech, for it is possible that it may go echoing +down the ages. His words were: + +"It is right when thinking of the Navy not to forget the men of the +Merchant Service, who have shown--and it is more surprising because they +have had no traditions towards it--courage as great," etc., etc. + +And then he went on talking of the execution of Captain Fryatt, an event +of undying memory, but less connected with the permanent, unchangeable +conditions of sea service than with the wrong view German minds delight +in taking of Englishmen's psychology. The enemy, he said, meant by this +atrocity to frighten our sailors away from the sea. + +"What has happened?" he goes on to ask. "Never at any time in peace have +sailors stayed so short a time ashore or shown such a readiness to step +again into a ship." + +Which means, in other words, that they answered to the call. I should +like to know at what time of history the English Merchant Service, the +great body of merchant seamen, had failed to answer the call. Noticed or +unnoticed, ignored or commanded, they have answered invariably the call +to do their work, the very conditions of which made them what they are. +They have always served the nation's needs through their own invariable +fidelity to the demands of their special life; but with the development +and complexity of material civilisation they grew less prominent to the +nation's eye among all the vast schemes of national industry. Never was +the need greater and the call to the services more urgent than to-day. +And those inconspicuous workers on whose qualities depends so much of the +national welfare have answered it without dismay, facing risk without +glory, in the perfect faithfulness to that tradition which the speech of +the statesman denies to them at the very moment when he thinks fit to +praise their courage . . . and mention his surprise! + +The hour of opportunity has struck--not for the first time--for the +Merchant Service; and if I associate myself with all my heart in the +admiration and the praise which is the greatest reward of brave men I +must be excused from joining in any sentiment of surprise. It is perhaps +because I have not been born to the inheritance of that tradition, which +has yet fashioned the fundamental part of my character in my young days, +that I am so consciously aware of it and venture to vindicate its +existence in this outspoken manner. + +Merchant seamen have always been what they are now, from their earliest +days, before the Royal Navy had been fashioned out of the material they +furnished for the hands of kings and statesmen. Their work has made +them, as work undertaken with single-minded devotion makes men, giving to +their achievements that vitality and continuity in which their souls are +expressed, tempered and matured through the succeeding generations. In +its simplest definition the work of merchant seamen has been to take +ships entrusted to their care from port to port across the seas; and, +from the highest to the lowest, to watch and labour with devotion for the +safety of the property and the lives committed to their skill and +fortitude through the hazards of innumerable voyages. + +That was always the clear task, the single aim, the simple ideal, the +only problem for an unselfish solution. The terms of it have changed +with the years, its risks have worn different aspects from time to time. +There are no longer any unexplored seas. Human ingenuity has devised +better means to meet the dangers of natural forces. But it is always the +same problem. The youngsters who were growing up at sea at the end of my +service are commanding ships now. At least I have heard of some of them +who do. And whatever the shape and power of their ships the character of +the duty remains the same. A mine or a torpedo that strikes your ship is +not so very different from a sharp, uncharted rock tearing her life out +of her in another way. At a greater cost of vital energy, under the well- +nigh intolerable stress of vigilance and resolution, they are doing +steadily the work of their professional forefathers in the midst of +multiplied dangers. They go to and fro across the oceans on their +everlasting task: the same men, the same stout hearts, the same fidelity +to an exacting tradition created by simple toilers who in their time knew +how to live and die at sea. + +Allowed to share in this work and in this tradition for something like +twenty years, I am bold enough to think that perhaps I am not altogether +unworthy to speak of it. It was the sphere not only of my activity but, +I may safely say, also of my affections; but after such a close +connection it is very difficult to avoid bringing in one's own +personality. Without looking at all at the aspects of the Labour +problem, I can safely affirm that I have never, never seen British seamen +refuse any risk, any exertion, any effort of spirit or body up to the +extremest demands of their calling. Years ago--it seems ages ago--I have +seen the crew of a British ship fight the fire in the cargo for a whole +sleepless week and then, with her decks blown up, I have seen them still +continue the fight to save the floating shell. And at last I have seen +them refuse to be taken off by a vessel standing by, and this only in +order "to see the last of our ship," at the word, at the simple word, of +a man who commanded them, a worthy soul indeed, but of no heroic aspect. +I have seen that. I have shared their days in small boats. Hard days. +Ages ago. And now let me mention a story of to-day. + +I will try to relate it here mainly in the words of the chief engineer of +a certain steamship which, after bunkering, left Lerwick, bound for +Iceland. The weather was cold, the sea pretty rough, with a stiff head +wind. All went well till next day, about 1.30 p.m., then the captain +sighted a suspicious object far away to starboard. Speed was increased +at once to close in with the Faroes and good lookouts were set fore and +aft. Nothing further was seen of the suspicious object, but about half- +past three without any warning the ship was struck amidships by a torpedo +which exploded in the bunkers. None of the crew was injured by the +explosion, and all hands, without exception, behaved admirably. + +The chief officer with his watch managed to lower the No. 3 boat. Two +other boats had been shattered by the explosion, and though another +lifeboat was cleared and ready, there was no time to lower it, and "some +of us jumped while others were washed overboard. Meantime the captain +had been busy handing lifebelts to the men and cheering them up with +words and smiles, with no thought of his own safety." The ship went down +in less than four minutes. The captain was the last man on board, going +down with her, and was sucked under. On coming up he was caught under an +upturned boat to which five hands were clinging. "One lifeboat," says +the chief engineer, "which was floating empty in the distance was +cleverly manoeuvred to our assistance by the steward, who swam off to her +pluckily. Our next endeavour was to release the captain, who was +entangled under the boat. As it was impossible to right her, we set-to +to split her side open with the boat hook, because by awful bad luck the +head of the axe we had flew off at the first blow and was lost. The +rescue took thirty minutes, and the extricated captain was in a pitiable +condition, being badly bruised and having swallowed a lot of salt water. +He was unconscious. While at that work the submarine came to the surface +quite close and made a complete circle round us, the seven men that we +counted on the conning tower laughing at our efforts. + +"There were eighteen of us saved. I deeply regret the loss of the chief +officer, a fine fellow and a kind shipmate showing splendid promise. The +other men lost--one A.B., one greaser, and two firemen--were quiet, +conscientious, good fellows." + +With no restoratives in the boat, they endeavoured to bring the captain +round by means of massage. Meantime the oars were got out in order to +reach the Faroes, which were about thirty miles dead to windward, but +after about nine hours' hard work they had to desist, and, putting out a +sea-anchor, they took shelter under the canvas boat-cover from the cold +wind and torrential rain. Says the narrator: "We were all very wet and +miserable, and decided to have two biscuits all round. The effects of +this and being under the shelter of the canvas warmed us up and made us +feel pretty well contented. At about sunrise the captain showed signs of +recovery, and by the time the sun was up he was looking a lot better, +much to our relief." + +After being informed of what had been done the revived captain "dropped a +bombshell in our midst," by proposing to make for the Shetlands, which +were _only_ one hundred and fifty miles off. "The wind is in our +favour," he said. "I promise to take you there. Are you all willing?" +This--comments the chief engineer--"from a man who but a few hours +previously had been hauled back from the grave!" The captain's confident +manner inspired the men, and they all agreed. Under the best possible +conditions a boat-run of one hundred and fifty miles in the North +Atlantic and in winter weather would have been a feat of no mean merit, +but in the circumstances it required uncommon nerve and skill to carry +out such a promise. With an oar for a mast and the boat-cover cut down +for a sail they started on their dangerous journey, with the boat compass +and the stars for their guide. The captain's undaunted serenity buoyed +them all up against despondency. He told them what point he was making +for. It was Ronas Hill, "and we struck it as straight as a die." + +The chief engineer commends also the ship steward for the manner in which +he made the little food they had last, the cheery spirit he manifested, +and the great help he was to the captain by keeping the men in good +humour. That trusty man had "his hands cruelly chafed with the rowing, +but it never damped his spirits." + +They made Ronas Hill (as straight as a die), and the chief engineer +cannot express their feelings of gratitude and relief when they set their +feet on the shore. He praises the unbounded kindness of the people in +Hillswick. "It seemed to us all like Paradise regained," he says, +concluding his letter with the words: + +"And there was our captain, just his usual self, as if nothing had +happened, as if bringing the boat that hazardous journey and being the +means of saving eighteen souls was to him an everyday occurrence." + +Such is the chief engineer's testimony to the continuity of the old +tradition of the sea, which made by the work of men has in its turn +created for them their simple ideal of conduct. + + + +CONFIDENCE--1919 + + +I. + + +The seamen hold up the Edifice. They have been holding it up in the past +and they will hold it up in the future, whatever this future may contain +of logical development, of unforeseen new shapes, of great promises and +of dangers still unknown. + +It is not an unpardonable stretching of the truth to say that the British +Empire rests on transportation. I am speaking now naturally of the sea, +as a man who has lived on it for many years, at a time, too, when on +sighting a vessel on the horizon of any of the great oceans it was +perfectly safe to bet any reasonable odds on her being a British +ship--with the certitude of making a pretty good thing of it at the end +of the voyage. + +I have tried to convey here in popular terms the strong impression +remembered from my young days. The Red Ensign prevailed on the high seas +to such an extent that one always experienced a slight shock on seeing +some other combination of colours blow out at the peak or flag-pole of +any chance encounter in deep water. In the long run the persistence of +the visual fact forced upon the mind a half-unconscious sense of its +inner significance. We have all heard of the well-known view that trade +follows the flag. And that is not always true. There is also this truth +that the flag, in normal conditions, represents commerce to the eye and +understanding of the average man. This is a truth, but it is not the +whole truth. In its numbers and in its unfailing ubiquity, the British +Red Ensign, under which naval actions too have been fought, adventures +entered upon and sacrifices offered, represented in fact something more +than the prestige of a great trade. + +The flutter of that piece of red bunting showered sentiment on the +nations of the earth. I will not venture to say that in every case that +sentiment was of a friendly nature. Of hatred, half concealed or +concealed not at all, this is not the place to speak; and indeed the +little I have seen of it about the world was tainted with stupidity and +seemed to confess in its very violence the extreme poorness of its case. +But generally it was more in the nature of envious wonder qualified by a +half-concealed admiration. + +That flag, which but for the Union Jack in the corner might have been +adopted by the most radical of revolutions, affirmed in its numbers the +stability of purpose, the continuity of effort and the greatness of +Britain's opportunity pursued steadily in the order and peace of the +world: that world which for twenty-five years or so after 1870 may be +said to have been living in holy calm and hushed silence with only now +and then a slight clink of metal, as if in some distant part of mankind's +habitation some restless body had stumbled over a heap of old armour. + + +II. + + +We who have learned by now what a world-war is like may be excused for +considering the disturbances of that period as insignificant brawls, mere +hole-and-corner scuffles. In the world, which memory depicts as so +wonderfully tranquil all over, it was the sea yet that was the safest +place. And the Red Ensign, commercial, industrial, historic, pervaded +the sea! Assertive only by its numbers, highly significant, and, under +its character of a trade--emblem, nationally expressive, it was symbolic +of old and new ideas, of conservatism and progress, of routine and +enterprise, of drudgery and adventure--and of a certain easy-going +optimism that would have appeared the Father of Sloth itself if it had +not been so stubbornly, so everlastingly active. + +The unimaginative, hard-working men, great and small, who served this +flag afloat and ashore, nursed dumbly a mysterious sense of its +greatness. It sheltered magnificently their vagabond labours under the +sleepless eye of the sun. It held up the Edifice. But it crowned it +too. This is not the extravagance of a mixed metaphor. It is the sober +expression of a not very complex truth. Within that double function the +national life that flag represented so well went on in safety, assured of +its daily crust of bread for which we all pray and without which we would +have to give up faith, hope and charity, the intellectual conquests of +our minds and the sanctified strength of our labouring arms. I may +permit myself to speak of it in these terms because as a matter of fact +it was on that very symbol that I had founded my life and (as I have said +elsewhere in a moment of outspoken gratitude) had known for many years no +other roof above my head. + +In those days that symbol was not particularly regarded. Superficially +and definitely it represented but one of the forms of national activity +rather remote from the close-knit organisations of other industries, a +kind of toil not immediately under the public eye. It was of its Navy +that the nation, looking out of the windows of its world-wide Edifice, +was proudly aware. And that was but fair. The Navy is the armed man at +the gate. An existence depending upon the sea must be guarded with a +jealous, sleepless vigilance, for the sea is but a fickle friend. + +It had provoked conflicts, encouraged ambitions, and had lured some +nations to destruction--as we know. He--man or people--who, boasting of +long years of familiarity with the sea, neglects the strength and cunning +of his right hand is a fool. The pride and trust of the nation in its +Navy so strangely mingled with moments of neglect, caused by a +particularly thick-headed idealism, is perfectly justified. It is also +very proper: for it is good for a body of men conscious of a great +responsibility to feel themselves recognised, if only in that fallible, +imperfect and often irritating way in which recognition is sometimes +offered to the deserving. + +But the Merchant Service had never to suffer from that sort of +irritation. No recognition was thrust on it offensively, and, truth to +say, it did not seem to concern itself unduly with the claims of its own +obscure merit. It had no consciousness. It had no words. It had no +time. To these busy men their work was but the ordinary labour of +earning a living; their duties in their ever-recurring round had, like +the sun itself, the commonness of daily things; their individual fidelity +was not so much united as merely co-ordinated by an aim that shone with +no spiritual lustre. They were everyday men. They were that, eminently. +When the great opportunity came to them to link arms in response to a +supreme call they received it with characteristic simplicity, +incorporating self-sacrifice into the texture of their common task, and, +as far as emotion went, framing the horror of mankind's catastrophic time +within the rigid rules of their professional conscience. And who can say +that they could have done better than this? + +Such was their past both remote and near. It has been stubbornly +consistent, and as this consistency was based upon the character of men +fashioned by a very old tradition, there is no doubt that it will endure. +Such changes as came into the sea life have been for the main part +mechanical and affecting only the material conditions of that inbred +consistency. That men don't change is a profound truth. They don't +change because it is not necessary for them to change even if they could +accomplish that miracle. It is enough for them to be infinitely +adaptable--as the last four years have abundantly proved. + + +III. + + +Thus one may await the future without undue excitement and with unshaken +confidence. Whether the hues of sunrise are angry or benign, gorgeous or +sinister, we shall always have the same sky over our heads. Yet by a +kindly dispensation of Providence the human faculty of astonishment will +never lack food. What could be more surprising for instance, than the +calm invitation to Great Britain to discard the force and protection of +its Navy? It has been suggested, it has been proposed--I don't know +whether it has been pressed. Probably not much. For if the excursions +of audacious folly have no bounds that human eye can see, reason has the +habit of never straying very far away from its throne. + +It is not the first time in history that excited voices have been heard +urging the warrior still panting from the fray to fling his tried weapons +on the altar of peace, for they would be needed no more! And such voices +have been, in undying hope or extreme weariness, listened to sometimes. +But not for long. After all every sort of shouting is a transitory +thing. It is the grim silence of facts that remains. + +The British Merchant Service has been challenged in its supremacy before. +It will be challenged again. It may be even asked menacingly in the name +of some humanitarian doctrine or some empty ideal to step down +voluntarily from that place which it has managed to keep for so many +years. But I imagine that it will take more than words of brotherly love +or brotherly anger (which, as is well known, is the worst kind of anger) +to drive British seamen, armed or unarmed, from the seas. Firm in this +indestructible if not easily explained conviction, I can allow myself to +think placidly of that long, long future which I shall not see. + +My confidence rests on the hearts of men who do not change, though they +may forget many things for a time and even forget to be themselves in a +moment of false enthusiasm. But of that I am not afraid. It will not be +for long. I know the men. Through the kindness of the Admiralty (which, +let me confess here in a white sheet, I repaid by the basest ingratitude) +I was permitted during the war to renew my contact with the British +seamen of the merchant service. It is to their generosity in recognising +me under the shore rust of twenty-five years as one of themselves that I +owe one of the deepest emotions of my life. Never for a moment did I +feel among them like an idle, wandering ghost from a distant past. They +talked to me seriously, openly, and with professional precision, of +facts, of events, of implements, I had never heard of in my time; but the +hands I grasped were like the hands of the generation which had trained +my youth and is now no more. I recognised the character of their +glances, the accent of their voices. Their moving tales of modern +instances were presented to me with that peculiar turn of mind flavoured +by the inherited humour and sagacity of the sea. I don't know what the +seaman of the future will be like. He may have to live all his days with +a telephone tied up to his head and bristle all over with scientific +antennae like a figure in a fantastic tale. But he will always be the +man revealed to us lately, immutable in his slight variations like the +closed path of this planet of ours on which he must find his exact +position once, at the very least, in every twenty-four hours. + +The greatest desideratum of a sailor's life is to be "certain of his +position." It is a source of great worry at times, but I don't think +that it need be so at this time. Yet even the best position has its +dangers on account of the fickleness of the elements. But I think that, +left untrammelled to the individual effort of its creators and to the +collective spirit of its servants, the British Merchant Service will +manage to maintain its position on this restless and watery globe. + + + +FLIGHT--1917 + + +To begin at the end, I will say that the "landing" surprised me by a +slight and very characteristically "dead" sort of shock. + +I may fairly call myself an amphibious creature. A good half of my +active existence has been passed in familiar contact with salt water, and +I was aware, theoretically, that water is not an elastic body: but it was +only then that I acquired the absolute conviction of the fact. I +remember distinctly the thought flashing through my head: "By Jove! it +isn't elastic!" Such is the illuminating force of a particular +experience. + +This landing (on the water of the North Sea) was effected in a Short +biplane after one hour and twenty minutes in the air. I reckon every +minute like a miser counting his hoard, for, if what I've got is mine, I +am not likely now to increase the tale. That feeling is the effect of +age. It strikes me as I write that, when next time I leave the surface +of this globe, it won't be to soar bodily above it in the air. Quite the +contrary. And I am not thinking of a submarine either. . . . + +But let us drop this dismal strain and go back logically to the +beginning. I must confess that I started on that flight in a state--I +won't say of fury, but of a most intense irritation. I don't remember +ever feeling so annoyed in my life. + +It came about in this way. Two or three days before, I had been invited +to lunch at an R.N.A.S. station, and was made to feel very much at home +by the nicest lot of quietly interesting young men it had ever been my +good fortune to meet. Then I was taken into the sheds. I walked +respectfully round and round a lot of machines of all kinds, and the more +I looked at them the more I felt somehow that for all the effect they +produced on me they might have been so many land-vehicles of an eccentric +design. So I said to Commander O., who very kindly was conducting me: +"This is all very fine, but to realise what one is looking at, one must +have been up." + +He said at once: "I'll give you a flight to-morrow if you like." + +I postulated that it should be none of those "ten minutes in the air" +affairs. I wanted a real business flight. Commander O. assured me that +I would get "awfully bored," but I declared that I was willing to take +that risk. "Very well," he said. "Eleven o'clock to-morrow. Don't be +late." + +I am sorry to say I was about two minutes late, which was enough, +however, for Commander O. to greet me with a shout from a great distance: +"Oh! You are coming, then!" + +"Of course I am coming," I yelled indignantly. + +He hurried up to me. "All right. There's your machine, and here's your +pilot. Come along." + +A lot of officers closed round me, rushed me into a hut: two of them +began to button me into the coat, two more were ramming a cap on my head, +others stood around with goggles, with binoculars. . . I couldn't +understand the necessity of such haste. We weren't going to chase Fritz. +There was no sign of Fritz anywhere in the blue. Those dear boys did not +seem to notice my age--fifty-eight, if a day--nor my infirmities--a gouty +subject for years. This disregard was very flattering, and I tried to +live up to it, but the pace seemed to me terrific. They galloped me +across a vast expanse of open ground to the water's edge. + +The machine on its carriage seemed as big as a cottage, and much more +imposing. My young pilot went up like a bird. There was an idle, able- +bodied ladder loafing against a shed within fifteen feet of me, but as +nobody seemed to notice it, I recommended myself mentally to Heaven and +started climbing after the pilot. The close view of the real fragility +of that rigid structure startled me considerably, while Commander O. +discomposed me still more by shouting repeatedly: "Don't put your foot +there!" I didn't know where to put my foot. There was a slight crack; I +heard some swear-words below me, and then with a supreme effort I rolled +in and dropped into a basket-chair, absolutely winded. A small crowd of +mechanics and officers were looking up at me from the ground, and while I +gasped visibly I thought to myself that they would be sure to put it down +to sheer nervousness. But I hadn't breath enough in my body to stick my +head out and shout down to them: + +"You know, it isn't that at all!" + +Generally I try not to think of my age and infirmities. They are not a +cheerful subject. But I was never so angry and disgusted with them as +during that minute or so before the machine took the water. As to my +feelings in the air, those who will read these lines will know their own, +which are so much nearer the mind and the heart than any writings of an +unprofessional can be. At first all my faculties were absorbed and as if +neutralised by the sheer novelty of the situation. The first to emerge +was the sense of security so much more perfect than in any small boat +I've ever been in; the, as it were, material, stillness, and immobility +(though it was a bumpy day). I very soon ceased to hear the roar of the +wind and engines--unless, indeed, some cylinders missed, when I became +acutely aware of that. Within the rigid spread of the powerful planes, +so strangely motionless I had sometimes the illusion of sitting as if by +enchantment in a block of suspended marble. Even while looking over at +the aeroplane's shadow running prettily over land and sea, I had the +impression of extreme slowness. I imagine that had she suddenly nose- +dived out of control, I would have gone to the final smash without a +single additional heartbeat. I am sure I would not have known. It is +doubtless otherwise with the man in control. + +But there was no dive, and I returned to earth (after an hour and twenty +minutes) without having felt "bored" for a single second. I descended +(by the ladder) thinking that I would never go flying again. No, never +any more--lest its mysterious fascination, whose invisible wing had +brushed my heart up there, should change to unavailing regret in a man +too old for its glory. + + + +SOME REFLECTIONS ON THE LOSS OF THE TITANIC--1912 + + +It is with a certain bitterness that one must admit to oneself that the +late _S.S. Titanic_ had a "good press." It is perhaps because I have no +great practice of daily newspapers (I have never seen so many of them +together lying about my room) that the white spaces and the big lettering +of the headlines have an incongruously festive air to my eyes, a +disagreeable effect of a feverish exploitation of a sensational God-send. +And if ever a loss at sea fell under the definition, in the terms of a +bill of lading, of Act of God, this one does, in its magnitude, +suddenness and severity; and in the chastening influence it should have +on the self-confidence of mankind. + +I say this with all the seriousness the occasion demands, though I have +neither the competence nor the wish to take a theological view of this +great misfortune, sending so many souls to their last account. It is but +a natural _reflection_. Another one flowing also from the phraseology of +bills of lading (a bill of lading is a shipping document limiting in +certain of its clauses the liability of the carrier) is that the "King's +Enemies" of a more or less overt sort are not altogether sorry that this +fatal mishap should strike the prestige of the greatest Merchant Service +of the world. I believe that not a thousand miles from these shores +certain public prints have betrayed in gothic letters their +satisfaction--to speak plainly--by rather ill-natured comments. + +In what light one is to look at the action of the American Senate is more +difficult to say. From a certain point of view the sight of the august +senators of a great Power rushing to New York and beginning to bully and +badger the luckless "Yamsi"--on the very quay-side so to speak--seems to +furnish the Shakespearian touch of the comic to the real tragedy of the +fatuous drowning of all these people who to the last moment put their +trust in mere bigness, in the reckless affirmations of commercial men and +mere technicians and in the irresponsible paragraphs of the newspapers +booming these ships! Yes, a grim touch of comedy. One asks oneself what +these men are after, with this very provincial display of authority. I +beg my friends in the United States pardon for calling these zealous +senators men. I don't wish to be disrespectful. They may be of the +stature of demi-gods for all I know, but at that great distance from the +shores of effete Europe and in the presence of so many guileless dead, +their size seems diminished from this side. What are they after? What +is there for them to find out? We know what had happened. The ship +scraped her side against a piece of ice, and sank after floating for two +hours and a half, taking a lot of people down with her. What more can +they find out from the unfair badgering of the unhappy "Yamsi," or the +ruffianly abuse of the same. + +"Yamsi," I should explain, is a mere code address, and I use it here +symbolically. I have seen commerce pretty close. I know what it is +worth, and I have no particular regard for commercial magnates, but one +must protest against these Bumble-like proceedings. Is it indignation at +the loss of so many lives which is at work here? Well, the American +railroads kill very many people during one single year, I dare say. Then +why don't these dignitaries come down on the presidents of their own +railroads, of which one can't say whether they are mere means of +transportation or a sort of gambling game for the use of American +plutocrats. Is it only an ardent and, upon the whole, praiseworthy +desire for information? But the reports of the inquiry tell us that the +august senators, though raising a lot of questions testifying to the +complete innocence and even blankness of their minds, are unable to +understand what the second officer is saying to them. We are so informed +by the press from the other side. Even such a simple expression as that +one of the look-out men was stationed in the "eyes of the ship" was too +much for the senators of the land of graphic expression. What it must +have been in the more recondite matters I won't even try to think, +because I have no mind for smiles just now. They were greatly exercised +about the sound of explosions heard when half the ship was under water +already. Was there one? Were there two? They seemed to be smelling a +rat there! Has not some charitable soul told them (what even schoolboys +who read sea stories know) that when a ship sinks from a leak like this, +a deck or two is always blown up; and that when a steamship goes down by +the head, the boilers may, and often do break adrift with a sound which +resembles the sound of an explosion? And they may, indeed, explode, for +all I know. In the only case I have seen of a steamship sinking there +was such a sound, but I didn't dive down after her to investigate. She +was not of 45,000 tons and declared unsinkable, but the sight was +impressive enough. I shall never forget the muffled, mysterious +detonation, the sudden agitation of the sea round the slowly raised +stern, and to this day I have in my eye the propeller, seen perfectly +still in its frame against a clear evening sky. + +But perhaps the second officer has explained to them by this time this +and a few other little facts. Though why an officer of the British +merchant service should answer the questions of any king, emperor, +autocrat, or senator of any foreign power (as to an event in which a +British ship alone was concerned, and which did not even take place in +the territorial waters of that power) passes my understanding. The only +authority he is bound to answer is the Board of Trade. But with what +face the Board of Trade, which, having made the regulations for 10,000 +ton ships, put its dear old bald head under its wing for ten years, took +it out only to shelve an important report, and with a dreary murmur, +"Unsinkable," put it back again, in the hope of not being disturbed for +another ten years, with what face it will be putting questions to that +man who has done his duty, as to the facts of this disaster and as to his +professional conduct in it--well, I don't know! I have the greatest +respect for our established authorities. I am a disciplined man, and I +have a natural indulgence for the weaknesses of human institutions; but I +will own that at times I have regretted their--how shall I say it?--their +imponderability. A Board of Trade--what is it? A Board of . . . I +believe the Speaker of the Irish Parliament is one of the members of it. +A ghost. Less than that; as yet a mere memory. An office with adequate +and no doubt comfortable furniture and a lot of perfectly irresponsible +gentlemen who exist packed in its equable atmosphere softly, as if in a +lot of cotton-wool, and with no care in the world; for there can be no +care without personal responsibility--such, for instance, as the seamen +have--those seamen from whose mouths this irresponsible institution can +take away the bread--as a disciplinary measure. Yes--it's all that. And +what more? The name of a politician--a party man! Less than nothing; a +mere void without as much as a shadow of responsibility cast into it from +that light in which move the masses of men who work, who deal in things +and face the realities--not the words--of this life. + +Years ago I remember overhearing two genuine shellbacks of the old type +commenting on a ship's officer, who, if not exactly incompetent, did not +commend himself to their severe judgment of accomplished sailor-men. Said +one, resuming and concluding the discussion in a funnily judicial tone: + +"The Board of Trade must have been drunk when they gave him his +certificate." + +I confess that this notion of the Board of Trade as an entity having a +brain which could be overcome by the fumes of strong liquor charmed me +exceedingly. For then it would have been unlike the limited companies of +which some exasperated wit has once said that they had no souls to be +saved and no bodies to be kicked, and thus were free in this world and +the next from all the effective sanctions of conscientious conduct. But, +unfortunately, the picturesque pronouncement overheard by me was only a +characteristic sally of an annoyed sailor. The Board of Trade is +composed of bloodless departments. It has no limbs and no physiognomy, +or else at the forthcoming inquiry it might have paid to the victims of +the _Titanic_ disaster the small tribute of a blush. I ask myself +whether the Marine Department of the Board of Trade did really believe, +when they decided to shelve the report on equipment for a time, that a +ship of 45,000 tons, that _any_ ship, could be made practically +indestructible by means of water-tight bulkheads? It seems incredible to +anybody who had ever reflected upon the properties of material, such as +wood or steel. You can't, let builders say what they like, make a ship +of such dimensions as strong proportionately as a much smaller one. The +shocks our old whalers had to stand amongst the heavy floes in Baffin's +Bay were perfectly staggering, notwithstanding the most skilful handling, +and yet they lasted for years. The _Titanic_, if one may believe the +last reports, has only scraped against a piece of ice which, I suspect, +was not an enormously bulky and comparatively easily seen berg, but the +low edge of a floe--and sank. Leisurely enough, God knows--and here the +advantage of bulkheads comes in--for time is a great friend, a good +helper--though in this lamentable case these bulkheads served only to +prolong the agony of the passengers who could not be saved. But she +sank, causing, apart from the sorrow and the pity of the loss of so many +lives, a sort of surprised consternation that such a thing should have +happened at all. Why? You build a 45,000 tons hotel of thin steel +plates to secure the patronage of, say, a couple of thousand rich people +(for if it had been for the emigrant trade alone, there would have been +no such exaggeration of mere size), you decorate it in the style of the +Pharaohs or in the Louis Quinze style--I don't know which--and to please +the aforesaid fatuous handful of individuals, who have more money than +they know what to do with, and to the applause of two continents, you +launch that mass with two thousand people on board at twenty-one knots +across the sea--a perfect exhibition of the modern blind trust in mere +material and appliances. And then this happens. General uproar. The +blind trust in material and appliances has received a terrible shock. I +will say nothing of the credulity which accepts any statement which +specialists, technicians and office-people are pleased to make, whether +for purposes of gain or glory. You stand there astonished and hurt in +your profoundest sensibilities. But what else under the circumstances +could you expect? + +For my part I could much sooner believe in an unsinkable ship of 3,000 +tons than in one of 40,000 tons. It is one of those things that stand to +reason. You can't increase the thickness of scantling and plates +indefinitely. And the mere weight of this bigness is an added +disadvantage. In reading the reports, the first reflection which occurs +to one is that, if that luckless ship had been a couple of hundred feet +shorter, she would have probably gone clear of the danger. But then, +perhaps, she could not have had a swimming bath and a French cafe. That, +of course, is a serious consideration. I am well aware that those +responsible for her short and fatal existence ask us in desolate accents +to believe that if she had hit end on she would have survived. Which, by +a sort of coy implication, seems to mean that it was all the fault of the +officer of the watch (he is dead now) for trying to avoid the obstacle. +We shall have presently, in deference to commercial and industrial +interests, a new kind of seamanship. A very new and "progressive" kind. +If you see anything in the way, by no means try to avoid it; smash at it +full tilt. And then--and then only you shall see the triumph of +material, of clever contrivances, of the whole box of engineering tricks +in fact, and cover with glory a commercial concern of the most +unmitigated sort, a great Trust, and a great ship-building yard, justly +famed for the super-excellence of its material and workmanship. +Unsinkable! See? I told you she was unsinkable, if only handled in +accordance with the new seamanship. Everything's in that. And, +doubtless, the Board of Trade, if properly approached, would consent to +give the needed instructions to its examiners of Masters and Mates. +Behold the examination-room of the future. Enter to the grizzled +examiner a young man of modest aspect: "Are you well up in modern +seamanship?" "I hope so, sir." "H'm, let's see. You are at night on +the bridge in charge of a 150,000 tons ship, with a motor track, organ- +loft, etc., etc., with a full cargo of passengers, a full crew of 1,500 +cafe waiters, two sailors and a boy, three collapsible boats as per Board +of Trade regulations, and going at your three-quarter speed of, say, +about forty knots. You perceive suddenly right ahead, and close to, +something that looks like a large ice-floe. What would you do?" "Put +the helm amidships." "Very well. Why?" "In order to hit end on." "On +what grounds should you endeavour to hit end on?" "Because we are taught +by our builders and masters that the heavier the smash, the smaller the +damage, and because the requirements of material should be attended to." + +And so on and so on. The new seamanship: when in doubt try to ram +fairly--whatever's before you. Very simple. If only the _Titanic_ had +rammed that piece of ice (which was not a monstrous berg) fairly, every +puffing paragraph would have been vindicated in the eyes of the credulous +public which pays. But would it have been? Well, I doubt it. I am well +aware that in the eighties the steamship Arizona, one of the "greyhounds +of the ocean" in the jargon of that day, did run bows on against a very +unmistakable iceberg, and managed to get into port on her collision +bulkhead. But the _Arizona_ was not, if I remember rightly, 5,000 tons +register, let alone 45,000, and she was not going at twenty knots per +hour. I can't be perfectly certain at this distance of time, but her sea- +speed could not have been more than fourteen at the outside. Both these +facts made for safety. And, even if she had been engined to go twenty +knots, there would not have been behind that speed the enormous mass, so +difficult to check in its impetus, the terrific weight of which is bound +to do damage to itself or others at the slightest contact. + +I assure you it is not for the vain pleasure of talking about my own poor +experiences, but only to illustrate my point, that I will relate here a +very unsensational little incident I witnessed now rather more than +twenty years ago in Sydney, N.S.W. Ships were beginning then to grow +bigger year after year, though, of course, the present dimensions were +not even dreamt of. I was standing on the Circular Quay with a Sydney +pilot watching a big mail steamship of one of our best-known companies +being brought alongside. We admired her lines, her noble appearance, and +were impressed by her size as well, though her length, I imagine, was +hardly half that of the _Titanic_. + +She came into the Cove (as that part of the harbour is called), of course +very slowly, and at some hundred feet or so short of the quay she lost +her way. That quay was then a wooden one, a fine structure of mighty +piles and stringers bearing a roadway--a thing of great strength. The +ship, as I have said before, stopped moving when some hundred feet from +it. Then her engines were rung on slow ahead, and immediately rung off +again. The propeller made just about five turns, I should say. She +began to move, stealing on, so to speak, without a ripple; coming +alongside with the utmost gentleness. I went on looking her over, very +much interested, but the man with me, the pilot, muttered under his +breath: "Too much, too much." His exercised judgment had warned him of +what I did not even suspect. But I believe that neither of us was +exactly prepared for what happened. There was a faint concussion of the +ground under our feet, a groaning of piles, a snapping of great iron +bolts, and with a sound of ripping and splintering, as when a tree is +blown down by the wind, a great strong piece of wood, a baulk of squared +timber, was displaced several feet as if by enchantment. I looked at my +companion in amazement. "I could not have believed it," I declared. +"No," he said. "You would not have thought she would have cracked an +egg--eh?" + +I certainly wouldn't have thought that. He shook his head, and added: +"Ah! These great, big things, they want some handling." + +Some months afterwards I was back in Sydney. The same pilot brought me +in from sea. And I found the same steamship, or else another as like her +as two peas, lying at anchor not far from us. The pilot told me she had +arrived the day before, and that he was to take her alongside to-morrow. +I reminded him jocularly of the damage to the quay. "Oh!" he said, "we +are not allowed now to bring them in under their own steam. We are using +tugs." + +A very wise regulation. And this is my point--that size is to a certain +extent an element of weakness. The bigger the ship, the more delicately +she must be handled. Here is a contact which, in the pilot's own words, +you wouldn't think could have cracked an egg; with the astonishing result +of something like eighty feet of good strong wooden quay shaken loose, +iron bolts snapped, a baulk of stout timber splintered. Now, suppose +that quay had been of granite (as surely it is now)--or, instead of the +quay, if there had been, say, a North Atlantic fog there, with a full- +grown iceberg in it awaiting the gentle contact of a ship groping its way +along blindfold? Something would have been hurt, but it would not have +been the iceberg. + +Apparently, there is a point in development when it ceases to be a true +progress--in trade, in games, in the marvellous handiwork of men, and +even in their demands and desires and aspirations of the moral and mental +kind. There is a point when progress, to remain a real advance, must +change slightly the direction of its line. But this is a wide question. +What I wanted to point out here is--that the old _Arizona_, the marvel of +her day, was proportionately stronger, handier, better equipped, than +this triumph of modern naval architecture, the loss of which, in common +parlance, will remain the sensation of this year. The clatter of the +presses has been worthy of the tonnage, of the preliminary paeans of +triumph round that vanished hull, of the reckless statements, and +elaborate descriptions of its ornate splendour. A great babble of news +(and what sort of news too, good heavens!) and eager comment has arisen +around this catastrophe, though it seems to me that a less strident note +would have been more becoming in the presence of so many victims left +struggling on the sea, of lives miserably thrown away for nothing, or +worse than nothing: for false standards of achievement, to satisfy a +vulgar demand of a few moneyed people for a banal hotel luxury--the only +one they can understand--and because the big ship pays, in one way or +another: in money or in advertising value. + +It is in more ways than one a very ugly business, and a mere scrape along +the ship's side, so slight that, if reports are to be believed, it did +not interrupt a card party in the gorgeously fitted (but in chaste style) +smoking-room--or was it in the delightful French cafe?--is enough to +bring on the exposure. All the people on board existed under a sense of +false security. How false, it has been sufficiently demonstrated. And +the fact which seems undoubted, that some of them actually were reluctant +to enter the boats when told to do so, shows the strength of that +falsehood. Incidentally, it shows also the sort of discipline on board +these ships, the sort of hold kept on the passengers in the face of the +unforgiving sea. These people seemed to imagine it an optional matter: +whereas the order to leave the ship should be an order of the sternest +character, to be obeyed unquestioningly and promptly by every one on +board, with men to enforce it at once, and to carry it out methodically +and swiftly. And it is no use to say it cannot be done, for it can. It +has been done. The only requisite is manageableness of the ship herself +and of the numbers she carries on board. That is the great thing which +makes for safety. A commander should be able to hold his ship and +everything on board of her in the hollow of his hand, as it were. But +with the modern foolish trust in material, and with those floating +hotels, this has become impossible. A man may do his best, but he cannot +succeed in a task which from greed, or more likely from sheer stupidity, +has been made too great for anybody's strength. + +The readers of _The English Review_, who cast a friendly eye nearly six +years ago on my Reminiscences, and know how much the merchant service, +ships and men, has been to me, will understand my indignation that those +men of whom (speaking in no sentimental phrase, but in the very truth of +feeling) I can't even now think otherwise than as brothers, have been put +by their commercial employers in the impossibility to perform efficiently +their plain duty; and this from motives which I shall not enumerate here, +but whose intrinsic unworthiness is plainly revealed by the greatness, +the miserable greatness, of that disaster. Some of them have perished. +To die for commerce is hard enough, but to go under that sea we have been +trained to combat, with a sense of failure in the supreme duty of one's +calling is indeed a bitter fate. Thus they are gone, and the +responsibility remains with the living who will have no difficulty in +replacing them by others, just as good, at the same wages. It was their +bitter fate. But I, who can look at some arduous years when their duty +was my duty too, and their feelings were my feelings, can remember some +of us who once upon a time were more fortunate. + +It is of them that I would talk a little, for my own comfort partly, and +also because I am sticking all the time to my subject to illustrate my +point, the point of manageableness which I have raised just now. Since +the memory of the lucky _Arizona_ has been evoked by others than myself, +and made use of by me for my own purpose, let me call up the ghost of +another ship of that distant day whose less lucky destiny inculcates +another lesson making for my argument. The _Douro_, a ship belonging to +the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company, was rather less than one-tenth the +measurement of the _Titanic_. Yet, strange as it may appear to the +ineffable hotel exquisites who form the bulk of the first-class Cross- +Atlantic Passengers, people of position and wealth and refinement did not +consider it an intolerable hardship to travel in her, even all the way +from South America; this being the service she was engaged upon. Of her +speed I know nothing, but it must have been the average of the period, +and the decorations of her saloons were, I dare say, quite up to the +mark; but I doubt if her birth had been boastfully paragraphed all round +the Press, because that was not the fashion of the time. She was not a +mass of material gorgeously furnished and upholstered. She was a ship. +And she was not, in the apt words of an article by Commander C. +Crutchley, R.N.R., which I have just read, "run by a sort of hotel +syndicate composed of the Chief Engineer, the Purser, and the Captain," +as these monstrous Atlantic ferries are. She was really commanded, +manned, and equipped as a ship meant to keep the sea: a ship first and +last in the fullest meaning of the term, as the fact I am going to relate +will show. + +She was off the Spanish coast, homeward bound, and fairly full, just like +the _Titanic_; and further, the proportion of her crew to her passengers, +I remember quite well, was very much the same. The exact number of souls +on board I have forgotten. It might have been nearly three hundred, +certainly not more. The night was moonlit, but hazy, the weather fine +with a heavy swell running from the westward, which means that she must +have been rolling a great deal, and in that respect the conditions for +her were worse than in the case of the _Titanic_. Some time either just +before or just after midnight, to the best of my recollection, she was +run into amidships and at right angles by a large steamer which after the +blow backed out, and, herself apparently damaged, remained motionless at +some distance. + +My recollection is that the _Douro_ remained afloat after the collision +for fifteen minutes or thereabouts. It might have been twenty, but +certainly something under the half-hour. In that time the boats were +lowered, all the passengers put into them, and the lot shoved off. There +was no time to do anything more. All the crew of the _Douro_ went down +with her, literally without a murmur. When she went she plunged bodily +down like a stone. The only members of the ship's company who survived +were the third officer, who was from the first ordered to take charge of +the boats, and the seamen told off to man them, two in each. Nobody else +was picked up. A quartermaster, one of the saved in the way of duty, +with whom I talked a month or so afterwards, told me that they pulled up +to the spot, but could neither see a head nor hear the faintest cry. + +But I have forgotten. A passenger was drowned. She was a lady's maid +who, frenzied with terror, refused to leave the ship. One of the boats +waited near by till the chief officer, finding himself absolutely unable +to tear the girl away from the rail to which she dung with a frantic +grasp, ordered the boat away out of danger. My quartermaster told me +that he spoke over to them in his ordinary voice, and this was the last +sound heard before the ship sank. + +The rest is silence. I daresay there was the usual official inquiry, but +who cared for it? That sort of thing speaks for itself with no uncertain +voice; though the papers, I remember, gave the event no space to speak +of: no large headlines--no headlines at all. You see it was not the +fashion at the time. A seaman-like piece of work, of which one cherishes +the old memory at this juncture more than ever before. She was a ship +commanded, manned, equipped--not a sort of marine Ritz, proclaimed +unsinkable and sent adrift with its casual population upon the sea, +without enough boats, without enough seamen (but with a Parisian cafe and +four hundred of poor devils of waiters) to meet dangers which, let the +engineers say what they like, lurk always amongst the waves; sent with a +blind trust in mere material, light-heartedly, to a most miserable, most +fatuous disaster. + +And there are, too, many ugly developments about this tragedy. The rush +of the senatorial inquiry before the poor wretches escaped from the jaws +of death had time to draw breath, the vituperative abuse of a man no more +guilty than others in this matter, and the suspicion of this aimless fuss +being a political move to get home on the M.T. Company, into which, in +common parlance, the United States Government has got its knife, I don't +pretend to understand why, though with the rest of the world I am aware +of the fact. Perhaps there may be an excellent and worthy reason for it; +but I venture to suggest that to take advantage of so many pitiful +corpses, is not pretty. And the exploiting of the mere sensation on the +other side is not pretty in its wealth of heartless inventions. Neither +is the welter of Marconi lies which has not been sent vibrating without +some reason, for which it would be nauseous to inquire too closely. And +the calumnious, baseless, gratuitous, circumstantial lie charging poor +Captain Smith with desertion of his post by means of suicide is the +vilest and most ugly thing of all in this outburst of journalistic +enterprise, without feeling, without honour, without decency. + +But all this has its moral. And that other sinking which I have related +here and to the memory of which a seaman turns with relief and +thankfulness has its moral too. Yes, material may fail, and men, too, +may fail sometimes; but more often men, when they are given the chance, +will prove themselves truer than steel, that wonderful thin steel from +which the sides and the bulkheads of our modern sea-leviathans are made. + + + +CERTAIN ASPECTS OF THE ADMIRABLE INQUIRY INTO THE LOSS OF THE +TITANIC--1912 + + +I have been taken to task by a friend of mine on the "other side" for my +strictures on Senator Smith's investigation into the loss of the +_Titanic_, in the number of _The English Review_ for May, 1912. I will +admit that the motives of the investigation may have been excellent, and +probably were; my criticism bore mainly on matters of form and also on +the point of efficiency. In that respect I have nothing to retract. The +Senators of the Commission had absolutely no knowledge and no practice to +guide them in the conduct of such an investigation; and this fact gave an +air of unreality to their zealous exertions. I think that even in the +United States there is some regret that this zeal of theirs was not +tempered by a large dose of wisdom. It is fitting that people who rush +with such ardour to the work of putting questions to men yet gasping from +a narrow escape should have, I wouldn't say a tincture of technical +information, but enough knowledge of the subject to direct the trend of +their inquiry. The newspapers of two continents have noted the remarks +of the President of the Senatorial Commission with comments which I will +not reproduce here, having a scant respect for the "organs of public +opinion," as they fondly believe themselves to be. The absolute value of +their remarks was about as great as the value of the investigation they +either mocked at or extolled. To the United States Senate I did not +intend to be disrespectful. I have for that body, of which one hears +mostly in connection with tariffs, as much reverence as the best of +Americans. To manifest more or less would be an impertinence in a +stranger. I have expressed myself with less reserve on our Board of +Trade. That was done under the influence of warm feelings. We were all +feeling warmly on the matter at that time. But, at any rate, our Board +of Trade Inquiry, conducted by an experienced President, discovered a +very interesting fact on the very second day of its sitting: the fact +that the water-tight doors in the bulkheads of that wonder of naval +architecture could be opened down below by any irresponsible person. Thus +the famous closing apparatus on the bridge, paraded as a device of +greater safety, with its attachments of warning bells, coloured lights, +and all these pretty-pretties, was, in the case of this ship, little +better than a technical farce. + +It is amusing, if anything connected with this stupid catastrophe can be +amusing, to see the secretly crestfallen attitude of technicians. They +are the high priests of the modern cult of perfected material and of +mechanical appliances, and would fain forbid the profane from inquiring +into its mysteries. We are the masters of progress, they say, and you +should remain respectfully silent. And they take refuge behind their +mathematics. I have the greatest regard for mathematics as an exercise +of mind. It is the only manner of thinking which approaches the Divine. +But mere calculations, of which these men make so much, when unassisted +by imagination and when they have gained mastery over common sense, are +the most deceptive exercises of intellect. Two and two are four, and two +are six. That is immutable; you may trust your soul to that; but you +must be certain first of your quantities. I know how the strength of +materials can be calculated away, and also the evidence of one's senses. +For it is by some sort of calculation involving weights and levels that +the technicians responsible for the _Titanic_ persuaded themselves that a +ship _not divided_ by water-tight compartments could be "unsinkable." +Because, you know, she was not divided. You and I, and our little boys, +when we want to divide, say, a box, take care to procure a piece of wood +which will reach from the bottom to the lid. We know that if it does not +reach all the way up, the box will not be divided into two compartments. +It will be only partly divided. The _Titanic_ was only partly divided. +She was just sufficiently divided to drown some poor devils like rats in +a trap. It is probable that they would have perished in any case, but it +is a particularly horrible fate to die boxed up like this. Yes, she was +sufficiently divided for that, but not sufficiently divided to prevent +the water flowing over. + +Therefore to a plain man who knows something of mathematics but is not +bemused by calculations, she was, from the point of view of +"unsinkability," not divided at all. What would you say of people who +would boast of a fireproof building, an hotel, for instance, saying, "Oh, +we have it divided by fireproof bulkheads which would localise any +outbreak," and if you were to discover on closer inspection that these +bulkheads closed no more than two-thirds of the openings they were meant +to close, leaving above an open space through which draught, smoke, and +fire could rush from one end of the building to the other? And, +furthermore, that those partitions, being too high to climb over, the +people confined in each menaced compartment had to stay there and become +asphyxiated or roasted, because no exits to the outside, say to the roof, +had been provided! What would you think of the intelligence or candour +of these advertising people? What would you think of them? And yet, +apart from the obvious difference in the action of fire and water, the +cases are essentially the same. + +It would strike you and me and our little boys (who are not engineers +yet) that to approach--I won't say attain--somewhere near absolute +safety, the divisions to keep out water should extend from the bottom +right up to the uppermost deck of _the hull_. I repeat, the _hull_, +because there are above the hull the decks of the superstructures of +which we need not take account. And further, as a provision of the +commonest humanity, that each of these compartments should have a +perfectly independent and free access to that uppermost deck: that is, +into the open. Nothing less will do. Division by bulkheads that really +divide, and free access to the deck from every water-tight compartment. +Then the responsible man in the moment of danger and in the exercise of +his judgment could close all the doors of these water-tight bulkheads by +whatever clever contrivance has been invented for the purpose, without a +qualm at the awful thought that he may be shutting up some of his fellow +creatures in a death-trap; that he may be sacrificing the lives of men +who, down there, are sticking to the posts of duty as the engine-room +staffs of the Merchant Service have never failed to do. I know very well +that the engineers of a ship in a moment of emergency are not quaking for +their lives, but, as far as I have known them, attend calmly to their +duty. We all must die; but, hang it all, a man ought to be given a +chance, if not for his life, then at least to die decently. It's bad +enough to have to stick down there when something disastrous is going on +and any moment may be your last; but to be drowned shut up under deck is +too bad. Some men of the _Titanic_ died like that, it is to be feared. +Compartmented, so to speak. Just think what it means! Nothing can +approach the horror of that fate except being buried alive in a cave, or +in a mine, or in your family vault. + +So, once more: continuous bulkheads--a clear way of escape to the deck +out of each water-tight compartment. Nothing less. And if specialists, +the precious specialists of the sort that builds "unsinkable ships," tell +you that it cannot be done, don't you believe them. It can be done, and +they are quite clever enough to do it too. The objections they will +raise, however disguised in the solemn mystery of technical phrases, will +not be technical, but commercial. I assure you that there is not much +mystery about a ship of that sort. She is a tank. She is a tank ribbed, +joisted, stayed, but she is no greater mystery than a tank. The +_Titanic_ was a tank eight hundred feet long, fitted as an hotel, with +corridors, bed-rooms, halls, and so on (not a very mysterious arrangement +truly), and for the hazards of her existence I should think about as +strong as a Huntley and Palmer biscuit-tin. I make this comparison +because Huntley and Palmer biscuit-tins, being almost a national +institution, are probably known to all my readers. Well, about that +strong, and perhaps not quite so strong. Just look at the side of such a +tin, and then think of a 50,000 ton ship, and try to imagine what the +thickness of her plates should be to approach anywhere the relative +solidity of that biscuit-tin. In my varied and adventurous career I have +been thrilled by the sight of a Huntley and Palmer biscuit-tin kicked by +a mule sky-high, as the saying is. It came back to earth smiling, with +only a sort of dimple on one of its cheeks. A proportionately severe +blow would have burst the side of the _Titanic_ or any other "triumph of +modern naval architecture" like brown paper--I am willing to bet. + +I am not saying this by way of disparagement. There is reason in things. +You can't make a 50,000 ton ship as strong as a Huntley and Palmer +biscuit-tin. But there is also reason in the way one accepts facts, and +I refuse to be awed by the size of a tank bigger than any other tank that +ever went afloat to its doom. The people responsible for her, though +disconcerted in their hearts by the exposure of that disaster, are giving +themselves airs of superiority--priests of an Oracle which has failed, +but still must remain the Oracle. The assumption is that they are +ministers of progress. But the mere increase of size is not progress. If +it were, elephantiasis, which causes a man's legs to become as large as +tree-trunks, would be a sort of progress, whereas it is nothing but a +very ugly disease. Yet directly this very disconcerting catastrophe +happened, the servants of the silly Oracle began to cry: "It's no use! +You can't resist progress. The big ship has come to stay." Well, let +her stay on, then, in God's name! But she isn't a servant of progress in +any sense. She is the servant of commercialism. For progress, if +dealing with the problems of a material world, has some sort of moral +aspect--if only, say, that of conquest, which has its distinct value +since man is a conquering animal. But bigness is mere exaggeration. The +men responsible for these big ships have been moved by considerations of +profit to be made by the questionable means of pandering to an absurd and +vulgar demand for banal luxury--the seaside hotel luxury. One even asks +oneself whether there was such a demand? It is inconceivable to think +that there are people who can't spend five days of their life without a +suite of apartments, cafes, bands, and such-like refined delights. I +suspect that the public is not so very guilty in this matter. These +things were pushed on to it in the usual course of trade competition. If +to-morrow you were to take all these luxuries away, the public would +still travel. I don't despair of mankind. I believe that if, by some +catastrophic miracle all ships of every kind were to disappear off the +face of the waters, together with the means of replacing them, there +would be found, before the end of the week, men (millionaires, perhaps) +cheerfully putting out to sea in bath-tubs for a fresh start. We are all +like that. This sort of spirit lives in mankind still uncorrupted by the +so-called refinements, the ingenuity of tradesmen, who look always for +something new to sell, offers to the public. + +Let her stay,--I mean the big ship--since she has come to stay. I only +object to the attitude of the people, who, having called her into being +and having romanced (to speak politely) about her, assume a detached sort +of superiority, goodness only knows why, and raise difficulties in the +way of every suggestion--difficulties about boats, about bulkheads, about +discipline, about davits, all sorts of difficulties. To most of them the +only answer would be: "Where there's a will there's a way"--the most wise +of proverbs. But some of these objections are really too stupid for +anything. I shall try to give an instance of what I mean. + +This Inquiry is admirably conducted. I am not alluding to the lawyers +representing "various interests," who are trying to earn their fees by +casting all sorts of mean aspersions on the characters of all sorts of +people not a bit worse than themselves. It is honest to give value for +your wages; and the "bravos" of ancient Venice who kept their stilettos +in good order and never failed to deliver the stab bargained for with +their employers, considered themselves an honest body of professional +men, no doubt. But they don't compel my admiration, whereas the conduct +of this Inquiry does. And as it is pretty certain to be attacked, I take +this opportunity to deposit here my nickel of appreciation. Well, +lately, there came before it witnesses responsible for the designing of +the ship. One of them was asked whether it would not be advisable to +make each coal-bunker of the ship a water-tight compartment by means of a +suitable door. + +The answer to such a question should have been, "Certainly," for it is +obvious to the simplest intelligence that the more water-tight spaces you +provide in a ship (consistently with having her workable) the nearer you +approach safety. But instead of admitting the expediency of the +suggestion, this witness at once raised an objection as to the +possibility of closing tightly the door of a bunker on account of the +slope of coal. This with the true expert's attitude of "My dear man, you +don't know what you are talking about." + +Now would you believe that the objection put forward was absolutely +futile? I don't know whether the distinguished President of the Court +perceived this. Very likely he did, though I don't suppose he was ever +on terms of familiarity with a ship's bunker. But I have. I have been +inside; and you may take it that what I say of them is correct. I don't +wish to be wearisome to the benevolent reader, but I want to put his +finger, so to speak, on the inanity of the objection raised by the +expert. A bunker is an enclosed space for holding coals, generally +located against the ship's side, and having an opening, a doorway in +fact, into the stokehold. Men called trimmers go in there, and by means +of implements called slices make the coal run through that opening on to +the floor of the stokehold, where it is within reach of the stokers' +(firemen's) shovels. This being so, you will easily understand that +there is constantly a more or less thick layer of coal generally shaped +in a slope lying in that doorway. And the objection of the expert was: +that because of this obstruction it would be impossible to close the +water-tight door, and therefore that the thing could not be done. And +that objection was inane. A water-tight door in a bulkhead may be +defined as a metal plate which is made to close a given opening by some +mechanical means. And if there were a law of Medes and Persians that a +water-tight door should always slide downwards and never otherwise, the +objection would be to a great extent valid. But what is there to prevent +those doors to be fitted so as to move upwards, or horizontally, or +slantwise? In which case they would go through the obstructing layer of +coal as easily as a knife goes through butter. Anyone may convince +himself of it by experimenting with a light piece of board and a heap of +stones anywhere along our roads. Probably the joint of such a door would +weep a little--and there is no necessity for its being hermetically +tight--but the object of converting bunkers into spaces of safety would +be attained. You may take my word for it that this could be done without +any great effort of ingenuity. And that is why I have qualified the +expert's objection as inane. + +Of course, these doors must not be operated from the bridge because of +the risk of trapping the coal-trimmers inside the bunker; but on the +signal of all other water-tight doors in the ship being closed (as would +be done in case of a collision) they too could be closed on the order of +the engineer of the watch, who would see to the safety of the trimmers. +If the rent in the ship's side were within the bunker itself, that would +become manifest enough without any signal, and the rush of water into the +stokehold could be cut off directly the doorplate came into its place. +Say a minute at the very outside. Naturally, if the blow of a +right-angled collision, for instance, were heavy enough to smash through +the inner bulkhead of the bunker, why, there would be then nothing to do +but for the stokers and trimmers and everybody in there to clear out of +the stoke-room. But that does not mean that the precaution of having +water-tight doors to the bunkers is useless, superfluous, or impossible. +{7} + +And talking of stokeholds, firemen, and trimmers, men whose heavy labour +has not a single redeeming feature; which is unhealthy, uninspiring, +arduous, without the reward of personal pride in it; sheer, hard, +brutalising toil, belonging neither to earth nor sea, I greet with joy +the advent for marine purposes of the internal combustion engine. The +disappearance of the marine boiler will be a real progress, which anybody +in sympathy with his kind must welcome. Instead of the unthrifty, +unruly, nondescript crowd the boilers require, a crowd of men _in_ the +ship but not _of_ her, we shall have comparatively small crews of +disciplined, intelligent workers, able to steer the ship, handle anchors, +man boats, and at the same time competent to take their place at a bench +as fitters and repairers; the resourceful and skilled seamen--mechanics +of the future, the legitimate successors of these seamen--sailors of the +past, who had their own kind of skill, hardihood, and tradition, and +whose last days it has been my lot to share. + +One lives and learns and hears very surprising things--things that one +hardly knows how to take, whether seriously or jocularly, how to +meet--with indignation or with contempt? Things said by solemn experts, +by exalted directors, by glorified ticket-sellers, by officials of all +sorts. I suppose that one of the uses of such an inquiry is to give such +people enough rope to hang themselves with. And I hope that some of them +won't neglect to do so. One of them declared two days ago that there was +"nothing to learn from the catastrophe of the _Titanic_." That he had +been "giving his best consideration" to certain rules for ten years, and +had come to the conclusion that nothing ever happened at sea, and that +rules and regulations, boats and sailors, were unnecessary; that what was +really wrong with the _Titanic_ was that she carried too many boats. + +No; I am not joking. If you don't believe me, pray look back through the +reports and you will find it all there. I don't recollect the official's +name, but it ought to have been Pooh-Bah. Well, Pooh-Bah said all these +things, and when asked whether he really meant it, intimated his +readiness to give the subject more of "his best consideration"--for +another ten years or so apparently--but he believed, oh yes! he was +certain, that had there been fewer boats there would have been more +people saved. Really, when reading the report of this admirably +conducted inquiry one isn't certain at times whether it is an Admirable +Inquiry or a felicitous _opera-bouffe_ of the Gilbertian type--with a +rather grim subject, to be sure. + +Yes, rather grim--but the comic treatment never fails. My readers will +remember that in the number of _The English Review_ for May, 1912, I +quoted the old case of the _Arizona_, and went on from that to prophesy +the coming of a new seamanship (in a spirit of irony far removed from +fun) at the call of the sublime builders of unsinkable ships. I thought +that, as a small boy of my acquaintance says, I was "doing a sarcasm," +and regarded it as a rather wild sort of sarcasm at that. Well, I am +blessed (excuse the vulgarism) if a witness has not turned up who seems +to have been inspired by the same thought, and evidently longs in his +heart for the advent of the new seamanship. He is an expert, of course, +and I rather believe he's the same gentleman who did not see his way to +fit water-tight doors to bunkers. With ludicrous earnestness he assured +the Commission of his intense belief that had only the _Titanic_ struck +end-on she would have come into port all right. And in the whole tone of +his insistent statement there was suggested the regret that the officer +in charge (who is dead now, and mercifully outside the comic scope of +this inquiry) was so ill-advised as to try to pass clear of the ice. Thus +my sarcastic prophecy, that such a suggestion was sure to turn up, +receives an unexpected fulfilment. You will see yet that in deference to +the demands of "progress" the theory of the new seamanship will become +established: "Whatever you see in front of you--ram it fair. . ." The +new seamanship! Looks simple, doesn't it? But it will be a very exact +art indeed. The proper handling of an unsinkable ship, you see, will +demand that she should be made to hit the iceberg very accurately with +her nose, because should you perchance scrape the bluff of the bow +instead, she may, without ceasing to be as unsinkable as before, find her +way to the bottom. I congratulate the future Transatlantic passengers on +the new and vigorous sensations in store for them. They shall go +bounding across from iceberg to iceberg at twenty-five knots with +precision and safety, and a "cheerful bumpy sound"--as the immortal poem +has it. It will be a teeth-loosening, exhilarating experience. The +decorations will be Louis-Quinze, of course, and the cafe shall remain +open all night. But what about the priceless Sevres porcelain and the +Venetian glass provided for the service of Transatlantic passengers? +Well, I am afraid all that will have to be replaced by silver goblets and +plates. Nasty, common, cheap silver. But those who _will_ go to sea +must be prepared to put up with a certain amount of hardship. + +And there shall be no boats. Why should there be no boats? Because Pooh- +Bah has said that the fewer the boats, the more people can be saved; and +therefore with no boats at all, no one need be lost. But even if there +was a flaw in this argument, pray look at the other advantages the +absence of boats gives you. There can't be the annoyance of having to go +into them in the middle of the night, and the unpleasantness, after +saving your life by the skin of your teeth, of being hauled over the +coals by irreproachable members of the Bar with hints that you are no +better than a cowardly scoundrel and your wife a heartless monster. Less +Boats. No boats! Great should be the gratitude of passage-selling +Combines to Pooh-Bah; and they ought to cherish his memory when he dies. +But no fear of that. His kind never dies. All you have to do, O +Combine, is to knock at the door of the Marine Department, look in, and +beckon to the first man you see. That will be he, very much at your +service--prepared to affirm after "ten years of my best consideration" +and a bundle of statistics in hand, that: "There's no lesson to be +learned, and that there is nothing to be done!" + +On an earlier day there was another witness before the Court of Inquiry. +A mighty official of the White Star Line. The impression of his +testimony which the Report gave is of an almost scornful impatience with +all this fuss and pother. Boats! Of course we have crowded our decks +with them in answer to this ignorant clamour. Mere lumber! How can we +handle so many boats with our davits? Your people don't know the +conditions of the problem. We have given these matters our best +consideration, and we have done what we thought reasonable. We have done +more than our duty. We are wise, and good, and impeccable. And whoever +says otherwise is either ignorant or wicked. + +This is the gist of these scornful answers which disclose the psychology +of commercial undertakings. It is the same psychology which fifty or so +years ago, before Samuel Plimsoll uplifted his voice, sent overloaded +ships to sea. "Why shouldn't we cram in as much cargo as our ships will +hold? Look how few, how very few of them get lost, after all." + +Men don't change. Not very much. And the only answer to be given to +this manager who came out, impatient and indignant, from behind the plate- +glass windows of his shop to be discovered by this inquiry, and to tell +us that he, they, the whole three million (or thirty million, for all I +know) capital Organisation for selling passages has considered the +problem of boats--the only answer to give him is: that this is not a +problem of boats at all. It is the problem of decent behaviour. If you +can't carry or handle so many boats, then don't cram quite so many people +on board. It is as simple as that--this problem of right feeling and +right conduct, the real nature of which seems beyond the comprehension of +ticket-providers. Don't sell so many tickets, my virtuous dignitary. +After all, men and women (unless considered from a purely commercial +point of view) are not exactly the cattle of the Western-ocean trade, +that used some twenty years ago to be thrown overboard on an emergency +and left to swim round and round before they sank. If you can't get more +boats, then sell less tickets. Don't drown so many people on the finest, +calmest night that was ever known in the North Atlantic--even if you have +provided them with a little music to get drowned by. Sell less tickets! +That's the solution of the problem, your Mercantile Highness. + +But there would be a cry, "Oh! This requires consideration!" (Ten years +of it--eh?) Well, no! This does not require consideration. This is the +very first thing to do. At once. Limit the number of people by the +boats you can handle. That's honesty. And then you may go on fumbling +for years about these precious davits which are such a stumbling-block to +your humanity. These fascinating patent davits. These davits that +refuse to do three times as much work as they were meant to do. Oh! The +wickedness of these davits! + +One of the great discoveries of this admirable Inquiry is the fascination +of the davits. All these people positively can't get away from them. +They shuffle about and groan around their davits. Whereas the obvious +thing to do is to eliminate the man-handled davits altogether. Don't you +think that with all the mechanical contrivances, with all the generated +power on board these ships, it is about time to get rid of the hundred- +years-old, man-power appliances? Cranes are what is wanted; low, compact +cranes with adjustable heads, one to each set of six or nine boats. And +if people tell you of insuperable difficulties, if they tell you of the +swing and spin of spanned boats, don't you believe them. The heads of +the cranes need not be any higher than the heads of the davits. The lift +required would be only a couple of inches. As to the spin, there is a +way to prevent that if you have in each boat two men who know what they +are about. I have taken up on board a heavy ship's boat, in the open sea +(the ship rolling heavily), with a common cargo derrick. And a cargo +derrick is very much like a crane; but a crane devised _ad hoc_ would be +infinitely easier to work. We must remember that the loss of this ship +has altered the moral atmosphere. As long as the _Titanic_ is +remembered, an ugly rush for the boats may be feared in case of some +accident. You can't hope to drill into perfect discipline a casual mob +of six hundred firemen and waiters, but in a ship like the _Titanic_ you +can keep on a permanent trustworthy crew of one hundred intelligent +seamen and mechanics who would know their stations for abandoning ship +and would do the work efficiently. The boats could be lowered with +sufficient dispatch. One does not want to let rip one's boats by the run +all at the same time. With six boat-cranes, six boats would be +simultaneously swung, filled, and got away from the side; and if any sort +of order is kept, the ship could be cleared of the passengers in a quite +short time. For there must be boats enough for the passengers and crew, +whether you increase the number of boats or limit the number of +passengers, irrespective of the size of the ship. That is the only +honest course. Any other would be rather worse than putting sand in the +sugar, for which a tradesman gets fined or imprisoned. Do not let us +take a romantic view of the so-called progress. A company selling +passages is a tradesman; though from the way these people talk and behave +you would think they are benefactors of mankind in some mysterious way, +engaged in some lofty and amazing enterprise. + +All these boats should have a motor-engine in them. And, of course, the +glorified tradesman, the mummified official, the technicians, and all +these secretly disconcerted hangers-on to the enormous ticket-selling +enterprise, will raise objections to it with every air of superiority. +But don't believe them. Doesn't it strike you as absurd that in this age +of mechanical propulsion, of generated power, the boats of such ultra- +modern ships are fitted with oars and sails, implements more than three +thousand years old? Old as the siege of Troy. Older! . . . And I know +what I am talking about. Only six weeks ago I was on the river in an +ancient, rough, ship's boat, fitted with a two-cylinder motor-engine of +7.5 h.p. Just a common ship's boat, which the man who owns her uses for +taking the workmen and stevedores to and from the ships loading at the +buoys off Greenhithe. She would have carried some thirty people. No +doubt has carried as many daily for many months. And she can tow a +twenty-five ton water barge--which is also part of that man's business. + +It was a boisterous day, half a gale of wind against the flood tide. Two +fellows managed her. A youngster of seventeen was cox (and a first-rate +cox he was too); a fellow in a torn blue jersey, not much older, of the +usual riverside type, looked after the engine. I spent an hour and a +half in her, running up and down and across that reach. She handled +perfectly. With eight or twelve oars out she could not have done +anything like as well. These two youngsters at my request kept her +stationary for ten minutes, with a touch of engine and helm now and then, +within three feet of a big, ugly mooring buoy over which the water broke +and the spray flew in sheets, and which would have holed her if she had +bumped against it. But she kept her position, it seemed to me, to an +inch, without apparently any trouble to these boys. You could not have +done it with oars. And her engine did not take up the space of three +men, even on the assumption that you would pack people as tight as +sardines in a box. + +Not the room of three people, I tell you! But no one would want to pack +a boat like a sardine-box. There must be room enough to handle the oars. +But in that old ship's boat, even if she had been desperately +overcrowded, there was power (manageable by two riverside youngsters) to +get away quickly from a ship's side (very important for your safety and +to make room for other boats), the power to keep her easily head to sea, +the power to move at five to seven knots towards a rescuing ship, the +power to come safely alongside. And all that in an engine which did not +take up the room of three people. + +A poor boatman who had to scrape together painfully the few sovereigns of +the price had the idea of putting that engine into his boat. But all +these designers, directors, managers, constructors, and others whom we +may include in the generic name of Yamsi, never thought of it for the +boats of the biggest tank on earth, or rather on sea. And therefore they +assume an air of impatient superiority and make objections--however sick +at heart they may be. And I hope they are; at least, as much as a grocer +who has sold a tin of imperfect salmon which destroyed only half a dozen +people. And you know, the tinning of salmon was "progress" as much at +least as the building of the _Titanic_. More, in fact. I am not +attacking shipowners. I care neither more nor less for Lines, Companies, +Combines, and generally for Trade arrayed in purple and fine linen than +the Trade cares for me. But I am attacking foolish arrogance, which is +fair game; the offensive posture of superiority by which they hide the +sense of their guilt, while the echoes of the miserably hypocritical +cries along the alley-ways of that ship: "Any more women? Any more +women?" linger yet in our ears. + +I have been expecting from one or the other of them all bearing the +generic name of Yamsi, something, a sign of some sort, some sincere +utterance, in the course of this Admirable Inquiry, of manly, of genuine +compunction. In vain. All trade talk. Not a whisper--except for the +conventional expression of regret at the beginning of the yearly +report--which otherwise is a cheerful document. Dividends, you know. The +shop is doing well. + +And the Admirable Inquiry goes on, punctuated by idiotic laughter, by +paid-for cries of indignation from under legal wigs, bringing to light +the psychology of various commercial characters too stupid to know that +they are giving themselves away--an admirably laborious inquiry into +facts that speak, nay shout, for themselves. + +I am not a soft-headed, humanitarian faddist. I have been ordered in my +time to do dangerous work; I have ordered, others to do dangerous work; I +have never ordered a man to do any work I was not prepared to do myself. +I attach no exaggerated value to human life. But I know it has a value +for which the most generous contributions to the Mansion House and +"Heroes" funds cannot pay. And they cannot pay for it, because people, +even of the third class (excuse my plain speaking), are not cattle. Death +has its sting. If Yamsi's manager's head were forcibly held under the +water of his bath for some little time, he would soon discover that it +has. Some people can only learn from that sort of experience which comes +home to their own dear selves. + +I am not a sentimentalist; therefore it is not a great consolation to me +to see all these people breveted as "Heroes" by the penny and halfpenny +Press. It is no consolation at all. In extremity, in the worst +extremity, the majority of people, even of common people, will behave +decently. It's a fact of which only the journalists don't seem aware. +Hence their enthusiasm, I suppose. But I, who am not a sentimentalist, +think it would have been finer if the band of the _Titanic_ had been +quietly saved, instead of being drowned while playing--whatever tune they +were playing, the poor devils. I would rather they had been saved to +support their families than to see their families supported by the +magnificent generosity of the subscribers. I am not consoled by the +false, written-up, Drury Lane aspects of that event, which is neither +drama, nor melodrama, nor tragedy, but the exposure of arrogant folly. +There is nothing more heroic in being drowned very much against your +will, off a holed, helpless, big tank in which you bought your passage, +than in dying of colic caused by the imperfect salmon in the tin you +bought from your grocer. + +And that's the truth. The unsentimental truth stripped of the romantic +garment the Press has wrapped around this most unnecessary disaster. + + + +PROTECTION OF OCEAN LINERS {8}--1914 + + +The loss of the _Empress of Ireland_ awakens feelings somewhat different +from those the sinking of the _Titanic_ had called up on two continents. +The grief for the lost and the sympathy for the survivors and the +bereaved are the same; but there is not, and there cannot be, the same +undercurrent of indignation. The good ship that is gone (I remember +reading of her launch something like eight years ago) had not been +ushered in with beat of drum as the chief wonder of the world of waters. +The company who owned her had no agents, authorised or unauthorised, +giving boastful interviews about her unsinkability to newspaper reporters +ready to swallow any sort of trade statement if only sensational enough +for their readers--readers as ignorant as themselves of the nature of all +things outside the commonest experience of the man in the street. + +No; there was nothing of that in her case. The company was content to +have as fine, staunch, seaworthy a ship as the technical knowledge of +that time could make her. In fact, she was as safe a ship as nine +hundred and ninety-nine ships out of any thousand now afloat upon the +sea. No; whatever sorrow one can feel, one does not feel indignation. +This was not an accident of a very boastful marine transportation; this +was a real casualty of the sea. The indignation of the New South Wales +Premier flashed telegraphically to Canada is perfectly uncalled-for. That +statesman, whose sympathy for poor mates and seamen is so suspect to me +that I wouldn't take it at fifty per cent. discount, does not seem to +know that a British Court of Marine Inquiry, ordinary or extraordinary, +is not a contrivance for catching scapegoats. I, who have been seaman, +mate and master for twenty years, holding my certificate under the Board +of Trade, may safely say that none of us ever felt in danger of unfair +treatment from a Court of Inquiry. It is a perfectly impartial tribunal +which has never punished seamen for the faults of shipowners--as, indeed, +it could not do even if it wanted to. And there is another thing the +angry Premier of New South Wales does not know. It is this: that for a +ship to float for fifteen minutes after receiving such a blow by a bare +stem on her bare side is not so bad. + +She took a tremendous list which made the minutes of grace vouchsafed her +of not much use for the saving of lives. But for that neither her owners +nor her officers are responsible. It would have been wonderful if she +had not listed with such a hole in her side. Even the _Aquitania_ with +such an opening in her outer hull would be bound to take a list. I don't +say this with the intention of disparaging this latest "triumph of marine +architecture"--to use the consecrated phrase. The _Aquitania_ is a +magnificent ship. I believe she would bear her people unscathed through +ninety-nine per cent. of all possible accidents of the sea. But suppose +a collision out on the ocean involving damage as extensive as this one +was, and suppose then a gale of wind coming on. Even the _Aquitania_ +would not be quite seaworthy, for she would not be manageable. + +We have been accustoming ourselves to put our trust in material, +technical skill, invention, and scientific contrivances to such an extent +that we have come at last to believe that with these things we can +overcome the immortal gods themselves. Hence when a disaster like this +happens, there arises, besides the shock to our humane sentiments, a +feeling of irritation, such as the hon. gentleman at the head of the New +South Wales Government has discharged in a telegraphic flash upon the +world. + +But it is no use being angry and trying to hang a threat of penal +servitude over the heads of the directors of shipping companies. You +can't get the better of the immortal gods by the mere power of material +contrivances. There will be neither scapegoats in this matter nor yet +penal servitude for anyone. The Directors of the Canadian Pacific +Railway Company did not sell "safety at sea" to the people on board the +_Empress of Ireland_. They never in the slightest degree pretended to do +so. What they did was to sell them a sea-passage, giving very good value +for the money. Nothing more. As long as men will travel on the water, +the sea-gods will take their toll. They will catch good seamen napping, +or confuse their judgment by arts well known to those who go to sea, or +overcome them by the sheer brutality of elemental forces. It seems to me +that the resentful sea-gods never do sleep, and are never weary; wherein +the seamen who are mere mortals condemned to unending vigilance are no +match for them. + +And yet it is right that the responsibility should be fixed. It is the +fate of men that even in their contests with the immortal gods they must +render an account of their conduct. Life at sea is the life in which, +simple as it is, you can't afford to make mistakes. + +With whom the mistake lies here, is not for me to say. I see that Sir +Thomas Shaughnessy has expressed his opinion of Captain Kendall's +absolute innocence. This statement, premature as it is, does him honour, +for I don't suppose for a moment that the thought of the material issue +involved in the verdict of the Court of Inquiry influenced him in the +least. I don't suppose that he is more impressed by the writ of two +million dollars nailed (or more likely pasted) to the foremast of the +Norwegian than I am, who don't believe that the _Storstad_ is worth two +million shillings. This is merely a move of commercial law, and even the +whole majesty of the British Empire (so finely invoked by the Sheriff) +cannot squeeze more than a very moderate quantity of blood out of a +stone. Sir Thomas, in his confident pronouncement, stands loyally by a +loyal and distinguished servant of his company. + +This thing has to be investigated yet, and it is not proper for me to +express my opinion, though I have one, in this place and at this time. +But I need not conceal my sympathy with the vehement protestations of +Captain Andersen. A charge of neglect and indifference in the matter of +saving lives is the cruellest blow that can be aimed at the character of +a seaman worthy of the name. On the face of the facts as known up to now +the charge does not seem to be true. If upwards of three hundred people +have been, as stated in the last reports, saved by the _Storstad_, then +that ship must have been at hand and rendering all the assistance in her +power. + +As to the point which must come up for the decision of the Court of +Inquiry, it is as fine as a hair. The two ships saw each other plainly +enough before the fog closed on them. No one can question Captain +Kendall's prudence. He has been as prudent as ever he could be. There +is not a shadow of doubt as to that. + +But there is this question: Accepting the position of the two ships when +they saw each other as correctly described in the very latest newspaper +reports, it seems clear that it was the _Empress of Ireland's_ duty to +keep clear of the collier, and what the Court will have to decide is +whether the stopping of the liner was, under the circumstances, the best +way of keeping her clear of the other ship, which had the right to +proceed cautiously on an unchanged course. + +This, reduced to its simplest expression, is the question which the Court +will have to decide. + +And now, apart from all problems of manoeuvring, of rules of the road, of +the judgment of the men in command, away from their possible errors and +from the points the Court will have to decide, if we ask ourselves what +it was that was needed to avert this disaster costing so many lives, +spreading so much sorrow, and to a certain point shocking the public +conscience--if we ask that question, what is the answer to be? + +I hardly dare set it down. Yes; what was it that was needed, what +ingenious combinations of ship-building, what transverse bulkheads, what +skill, what genius--how much expense in money and trained thinking, what +learned contriving, to avert that disaster? + +To save that ship, all these lives, so much anguish for the dying, and so +much grief for the bereaved, all that was needed in this particular case +in the way of science, money, ingenuity, and seamanship was a man, and a +cork-fender. + +Yes; a man, a quartermaster, an able seaman that would know how to jump +to an order and was not an excitable fool. In my time at sea there was +no lack of men in British ships who could jump to an order and were not +excitable fools. As to the so-called cork-fender, it is a sort of soft +balloon made from a net of thick rope rather more than a foot in +diameter. It is such a long time since I have indented for cork-fenders +that I don't remember how much these things cost apiece. One of them, +hung judiciously over the side at the end of its lanyard by a man who +knew what he was about, might perhaps have saved from destruction the +ship and upwards of a thousand lives. + +Two men with a heavy rope-fender would have been better, but even the +other one might have made all the difference between a very damaging +accident and downright disaster. By the time the cork-fender had been +squeezed between the liner's side and the bluff of the _Storstad's_ bow, +the effect of the latter's reversed propeller would have been produced, +and the ships would have come apart with no more damage than bulged and +started plates. Wasn't there lying about on that liner's bridge, fitted +with all sorts of scientific contrivances, a couple of simple and +effective cork-fenders--or on board of that Norwegian either? There must +have been, since one ship was just out of a dock or harbour and the other +just arriving. That is the time, if ever, when cork-fenders are lying +about a ship's decks. And there was plenty of time to use them, and +exactly in the conditions in which such fenders are effectively used. The +water was as smooth as in any dock; one ship was motionless, the other +just moving at what may be called dock-speed when entering, leaving, or +shifting berths; and from the moment the collision was seen to be +unavoidable till the actual contact a whole minute elapsed. A minute,--an +age under the circumstances. And no one thought of the homely expedient +of dropping a simple, unpretending rope-fender between the destructive +stern and the defenceless side! + +I appeal confidently to all the seamen in the still United Kingdom, from +his Majesty the King (who has been really at sea) to the youngest +intelligent A.B. in any ship that will dock next tide in the ports of +this realm, whether there was not a chance there. I have followed the +sea for more than twenty years; I have seen collisions; I have been +involved in a collision myself; and I do believe that in the case under +consideration this little thing would have made all that enormous +difference--the difference between considerable damage and an appalling +disaster. + +Many letters have been written to the Press on the subject of collisions. +I have seen some. They contain many suggestions, valuable and otherwise; +but there is only one which hits the nail on the head. It is a letter to +the _Times_ from a retired Captain of the Royal Navy. It is printed in +small type, but it deserved to be printed in letters of gold and crimson. +The writer suggests that all steamers should be obliged by law to carry +hung over their stern what we at sea call a "pudding." + +This solution of the problem is as wonderful in its simplicity as the +celebrated trick of Columbus's egg, and infinitely more useful to +mankind. A "pudding" is a thing something like a bolster of stout rope- +net stuffed with old junk, but thicker in the middle than at the ends. It +can be seen on almost every tug working in our docks. It is, in fact, a +fixed rope-fender always in a position where presumably it would do most +good. Had the _Storstad_ carried such a "pudding" proportionate to her +size (say, two feet diameter in the thickest part) across her stern, and +hung above the level of her hawse-pipes, there would have been an +accident certainly, and some repair-work for the nearest ship-yard, but +there would have been no loss of life to deplore. + +It seems almost too simple to be true, but I assure you that the +statement is as true as anything can be. We shall see whether the lesson +will be taken to heart. We shall see. There is a Commission of learned +men sitting to consider the subject of saving life at sea. They are +discussing bulkheads, boats, davits, manning, navigation, but I am +willing to bet that not one of them has thought of the humble "pudding." +They can make what rules they like. We shall see if, with that disaster +calling aloud to them, they will make the rule that every steamship +should carry a permanent fender across her stern, from two to four feet +in diameter in its thickest part in proportion to the size of the ship. +But perhaps they may think the thing too rough and unsightly for this +scientific and aesthetic age. It certainly won't look very pretty but I +make bold to say it will save more lives at sea than any amount of the +Marconi installations which are being forced on the shipowners on that +very ground--the safety of lives at sea. + +We shall see! + +* * * * * + +To the Editor of the _Daily Express_. + +SIR, + +As I fully expected, this morning's post brought me not a few letters on +the subject of that article of mine in the _Illustrated London News_. And +they are very much what I expected them to be. + +I shall address my reply to Captain Littlehales, since obviously he can +speak with authority, and speaks in his own name, not under a pseudonym. +And also for the reason that it is no use talking to men who tell you to +shut your head for a confounded fool. They are not likely to listen to +you. + +But if there be in Liverpool anybody not too angry to listen, I want to +assure him or them that my exclamatory line, "Was there no one on board +either of these ships to think of dropping a fender--etc.," was not +uttered in the spirit of blame for anyone. I would not dream of blaming +a seaman for doing or omitting to do anything a person sitting in a +perfectly safe and unsinkable study may think of. All my sympathy goes +to the two captains; much the greater share of it to Captain Kendall, who +has lost his ship and whose load of responsibility was so much heavier! I +may not know a great deal, but I know how anxious and perplexing are +those nearly end-on approaches, so infinitely more trying to the men in +charge than a frank right-angle crossing. + +I may begin by reminding Captain Littlehales that I, as well as himself, +have had to form my opinion, or rather my vision, of the accident, from +printed statements, of which many must have been loose and inexact and +none could have been minutely circumstantial. I have read the reports of +the _Times_ and the _Daily Telegraph_, and no others. What stands in the +columns of these papers is responsible for my conclusion--or perhaps for +the state of my feelings when I wrote the _Illustrated London News_ +article. + +From these sober and unsensational reports, I derived the impression that +this collision was a collision of the slowest sort. I take it, of +course, that both the men in charge speak the strictest truth as to +preliminary facts. We know that the _Empress of Ireland_ was for a time +lying motionless. And if the captain of the _Storstad_ stopped his +engines directly the fog came on (as he says he did), then taking into +account the adverse current of the river, the _Storstad_, by the time the +two ships sighted each other again, must have been barely moving _over +the ground_. The "over the ground" speed is the only one that matters in +this discussion. In fact, I represented her to myself as just creeping +on ahead--no more. This, I contend, is an imaginative view (and we can +form no other) not utterly absurd for a seaman to adopt. + +So much for the imaginative view of the sad occurrence which caused me to +speak of the fender, and be chided for it in unmeasured terms. Not by +Captain Littlehales, however, and I wish to reply to what he says with +all possible deference. His illustration borrowed from boxing is very +apt, and in a certain sense makes for my contention. Yes. A blow +delivered with a boxing-glove will draw blood or knock a man out; but it +would not crush in his nose flat or break his jaw for him--at least, not +always. And this is exactly my point. + +Twice in my sea life I have had occasion to be impressed by the +preserving effect of a fender. Once I was myself the man who dropped it +over. Not because I was so very clever or smart, but simply because I +happened to be at hand. And I agree with Captain Littlehales that to see +a steamer's stern coming at you at the rate of only two knots is a +staggering experience. The thing seems to have power enough behind it to +cut half through the terrestrial globe. + +And perhaps Captain Littlehales is right? It may be that I am mistaken +in my appreciation of circumstances and possibilities in this case--or in +any such case. Perhaps what was really wanted there was an extraordinary +man and an extraordinary fender. I care nothing if possibly my deep +feeling has betrayed me into something which some people call absurdity. + +Absurd was the word applied to the proposal for carrying "enough boats +for all" on board the big liners. And my absurdity can affect no lives, +break no bones--need make no one angry. Why should I care, then, as long +as out of the discussion of my absurdity there will emerge the acceptance +of the suggestion of Captain F. Papillon, R.N., for the universal and +compulsory fitting of very heavy collision fenders on the stems of all +mechanically propelled ships? + +An extraordinary man we cannot always get from heaven on order, but an +extraordinary fender that will do its work is well within the power of a +committee of old boatswains to plan out, make, and place in position. I +beg to ask, not in a provocative spirit, but simply as to a matter of +fact which he is better qualified to judge than I am--Will Captain +Littlehales affirm that if the _Storstad_ had carried, slung securely +across the stem, even nothing thicker than a single bale of wool (an +ordinary, hand-pressed, Australian wool-bale), it would have made no +difference? + +If scientific men can invent an air cushion, a gas cushion, or even an +electricity cushion (with wires or without), to fit neatly round the +stems and bows of ships, then let them go to work, in God's name and +produce another "marvel of science" without loss of time. For something +like this has long been due--too long for the credit of that part of +mankind which is not absurd, and in which I include, among others, such +people as marine underwriters, for instance. + +Meanwhile, turning to materials I am familiar with, I would put my trust +in canvas, lots of big rope, and in large, very large quantities of old +junk. + +It sounds awfully primitive, but if it will mitigate the mischief in only +fifty per cent. of cases, is it not well worth trying? Most collisions +occur at slow speeds, and it ought to be remembered that in case of a big +liner's loss, involving many lives, she is generally sunk by a ship much +smaller than herself. + +JOSEPH CONRAD. + + + +A FRIENDLY PLACE + + +Eighteen years have passed since I last set foot in the London Sailors' +Home. I was not staying there then; I had gone in to try to find a man I +wanted to see. He was one of those able seamen who, in a watch, are a +perfect blessing to a young officer. I could perhaps remember here and +there among the shadows of my sea-life a more daring man, or a more agile +man, or a man more expert in some special branch of his calling--such as +wire splicing, for instance; but for all-round competence, he was +unequalled. As character he was sterling stuff. His name was Anderson. +He had a fine, quiet face, kindly eyes, and a voice which matched that +something attractive in the whole man. Though he looked yet in the prime +of life, shoulders, chest, limbs untouched by decay, and though his hair +and moustache were only iron-grey, he was on board ship generally called +Old Andy by his fellows. He accepted the name with some complacency. + +I made my enquiry at the highly-glazed entry office. The clerk on duty +opened an enormous ledger, and after running his finger down a page, +informed me that Anderson had gone to sea a week before, in a ship bound +round the Horn. Then, smiling at me, he added: "Old Andy. We know him +well, here. What a nice fellow!" + +I, who knew what a "good man," in a sailor sense, he was, assented +without reserve. Heaven only knows when, if ever, he came back from that +voyage, to the Sailors' Home of which he was a faithful client. + +I went out glad to know he was safely at sea, but sorry not to have seen +him; though, indeed, if I had, we would not have exchanged more than a +score of words, perhaps. He was not a talkative man, Old Andy, whose +affectionate ship-name clung to him even in that Sailors' Home, where the +staff understood and liked the sailors (those men without a home) and did +its duty by them with an unobtrusive tact, with a patient and humorous +sense of their idiosyncrasies, to which I hasten to testify now, when the +very existence of that institution is menaced after so many years of most +useful work. + +Walking away from it on that day eighteen years ago, I was far from +thinking it was for the last time. Great changes have come since, over +land and sea; and if I were to seek somebody who knew Old Andy it would +be (of all people in the world) Mr. John Galsworthy. For Mr. John +Galsworthy, Andy, and myself have been shipmates together in our +different stations, for some forty days in the Indian Ocean in the early +nineties. And, but for us two, Old Andy's very memory would be gone from +this changing earth. + +Yes, things have changed--the very sky, the atmosphere, the light of +judgment which falls on the labours of men, either splendid or obscure. +Having been asked to say a word to the public on behalf of the Sailors' +Home, I felt immensely flattered--and troubled. Flattered to have been +thought of in that connection; troubled to find myself in touch again +with that past so deeply rooted in my heart. And the illusion of +nearness is so great while I trace these lines that I feel as if I were +speaking in the name of that worthy Sailor-Shade of Old Andy, whose +faithfully hard life seems to my vision a thing of yesterday. + +* * * * * + +But though the past keeps firm hold on one, yet one feels with the same +warmth that the men and the institutions of to-day have their merit and +their claims. Others will know how to set forth before the public the +merit of the Sailors' Home in the eloquent terms of hard facts and some +few figures. For myself, I can only bring a personal note, give a +glimpse of the human side of the good work for sailors ashore, carried on +through so many decades with a perfect understanding of the end in view. +I have been in touch with the Sailors' Home for sixteen years of my life, +off and on; I have seen the changes in the staff and I have observed the +subtle alterations in the physiognomy of that stream of sailors passing +through it, in from the sea and out again to sea, between the years 1878 +and 1894. I have listened to the talk on the decks of ships in all +latitudes, when its name would turn up frequently, and if I had to +characterise its good work in one sentence, I would say that, for seamen, +the Well Street Home was a friendly place. + +It was essentially just that; quietly, unobtrusively, with a regard for +the independence of the men who sought its shelter ashore, and with no +ulterior aims behind that effective friendliness. No small merit this. +And its claim on the generosity of the public is derived from a long +record of valuable public service. Since we are all agreed that the men +of the merchant service are a national asset worthy of care and sympathy, +the public could express this sympathy no better than by enabling the +Sailors' Home, so useful in the past, to continue its friendly offices to +the seamen of future generations. + + + + +Footnotes + + +{1} Yvette and Other Stories. Translated by Ada Galsworthy. + +{2} _Turgenev_: A Study. By Edward Garnett. + +{3} _Studies in Brown Humanity_. By Hugh Clifford. + +{4} _Quiet Days in Spain_. By C. Bogue Luffmann. + +{5} Existence after Death Implied by Science. By Jasper B. Hunt, M.A. + +{6} _The Ascending Effort_. By George Bourne. + +{7} Since writing the above, I am told that such doors are fitted in the +bunkers of more than one ship in the Atlantic trade. + +{8} The loss of the _Empress of Ireland_. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOTES ON LIFE AND LETTERS*** + + +******* This file should be named 1143.txt or 1143.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/1/4/1143 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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