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diff --git a/old/ntlfl10.txt b/old/ntlfl10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a546ab9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/ntlfl10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8206 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Etext of Notes on Life and Letters, by Conrad +#19 in our series by Joseph Conrad + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. 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Dent edition. + + + + + +Notes on Life & Letters +by Joseph Conrad + + + + + + +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 e 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 e 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 E 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 E +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 watch-words 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 jmat, 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 notebooks, 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 +bomb-shell. 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--voile 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, war-like, 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 today +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 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 straight-forward 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 school-room 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 road-way 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, fore-mast 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 watertight 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 shipbuilding, 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 steam-ship 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 Project Gutenberg's Etext of Notes on Life and Letters, by Conrad + diff --git a/old/ntlfl10.zip b/old/ntlfl10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b26e7e7 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/ntlfl10.zip |