the new machiavelli-第14部分

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gate　still　looks　out　with　the　same　expression　of　ancient　well…

proportioned　kindliness　upon　St。　Margaret's　Close。　　There　are　

imposing　new　science　laboratories　in　Chambers　Street　indeed；　but　the　

old　playing　fields　are　unaltered　except　for　the　big　electric　trams　

that　go　droning　and　spitting　blue　flashes　along　the　western　

boundary。　　I　know　Ratten；　the　new　Head；　very　well；　but　I　have　not　

been　inside　the　school　to　see　if　it　has　changed　at　all　since　I　went　

up　to　Cambridge。



I　took　all　they　put　before　us　very　readily　as　a　boy；　for　I　had　a　

mind　of　vigorous　appetite；　but　since　I　have　grown　mentally　to　man's　

estate　and　developed　a　more　and　more　comprehensive　view　of　our　

national　process　and　our　national　needs；　I　am　more　and　more　struck　

by　the　oddity　of　the　educational　methods　pursued；　their　aimless　

disconnectedness　from　the　constructive　forces　in　the　community。　　I　

suppose　if　we　are　to　view　the　public　school　as　anything　more　than　an　

institution　that　has　just　chanced　to　happen；　we　must　treat　it　as　

having　a　definite　function　towards　the　general　scheme　of　the　nation；　

as　being　in　a　sense　designed　to　take　the　crude　young　male　of　the　

more　or　less　responsible　class；　to　correct　his　harsh　egotisms；　

broaden　his　outlook；　give　him　a　grasp　of　the　contemporary　

developments　he　will　presently　be　called　upon　to　influence　and　

control；　and　send　him　on　to　the　university　to　be　made　a　leading　and　

ruling　social　man。　　It　is　easy　enough　to　carp　at　schoolmasters　and　

set　up　for　an　Educational　Reformer；　I　know；　but　still　it　is　

impossible　not　to　feel　how　infinitely　more　effectuallygiven　

certain　impossibilities　perhapsthe　job　might　be　done。



My　memory　of　school　has　indeed　no　hint　whatever　of　that　quality　of　

elucidation　it　seems　reasonable　to　demand　from　it。　　Here　all　about　

me　was　London；　a　vast　inexplicable　being；　a　vortex　of　gigantic　

forces；　that　filled　and　overwhelmed　me　with　impressions；　that　

stirred　my　imagination　to　a　perpetual　vague　enquiry；　and　my　school　

not　only　offered　no　key　to　it；　but　had　practically　no　comment　to　

make　upon　it　at　all。　　We　were　within　three　miles　of　Westminster　and　

Charing　Cross；　the　government　offices　of　a　fifth　of　mankind　were　all　

within　an　hour's　stroll；　great　economic　changes　were　going　on　under　

our　eyes；　now　the　hoardings　flamed　with　election　placards；　now　the　

Salvation　Army　and　now　the　unemployed　came　trailing　in　procession　

through　the　winter…grey　streets；　now　the　newspaper　placards　outside　

news…shops　told　of　battles　in　strange　places；　now　of　amazing　

discoveries；　now　of　sinister　crimes；　abject　squalor　and　poverty；　

imperial　splendour　and　luxury；　Buckingham　Palace；　Rotten　Row；　

Mayfair；　the　slums　of　Pimlico；　garbage…littered　streets　of　bawling　

costermongers；　the　inky　silver　of　the　barge…laden　Thamessuch　was　

the　background　of　our　days。　　We　went　across　St。　Margaret's　Close　and　

through　the　school　gate　into　a　quiet　puerile　world　apart　from　all　

these　things。　　We　joined　in　the　earnest　acquirement　of　all　that　was　

necessary　for　Greek　epigrams　and　Latin　verse；　and　for　the　rest　

played　games。　　We　dipped　down　into　something　clear　and　elegantly　

proportioned　and　time…worn　and　for　all　its　high　resolve　of　stalwart　

virility　a　little　feeble；　like　our　blackened　and　decayed　portals　by　

Inigo　Jones。



Within；　we　were　taught　as　the　chief　subjects　of　instruction；　Latin　

and　Greek。　　We　were　taught　very　badly　because　the　men　who　taught　us　

did　not　habitually　use　either　of　these　languages；　nobody　uses　them　

any　more　now　except　perhaps　for　the　Latin　of　a　few　Levantine　

monasteries。　　At　the　utmost　our　men　read　them。　　We　were　taught　these　

languages　because　long　ago　Latin　had　been　the　language　of　

civilisation；　the　one　way　of　escape　from　the　narrow　and　localised　

life　had　lain　in　those　days　through　Latin；　and　afterwards　Greek　had　

come　in　as　the　vehicle　of　a　flood　of　new　and　amazing　ideas。　　Once　

these　two　languages　had　been　the　sole　means　of　initiation　to　the　

detached　criticism　and　partial　comprehension　of　the　world。　　I　can　

imagine　the　fierce　zeal　of　our　first　Heads；　Gardener　and　Roper；　

teaching　Greek　like　passionate　missionaries；　as　a　progressive　

Chinaman　might　teach　English　to　the　boys　of　Pekin；　clumsily；　

impatiently；　with　rod　and　harsh　urgency；　but　sincerely；　

patriotically；　because　they　felt　that　behind　it　lay　revelations；　the　

irresistible　stimulus　to　a　new　phase　of　history。　　That　was　long　ago。　　

A　new　great　world；　a　vaster　Imperialism　had　arisen　about　the　school；　

had　assimilated　all　these　amazing　and　incredible　ideas；　had　gone　on　

to　new　and　yet　more　amazing　developments　of　its　own。　　But　the　City　

Merchants　School　still　made　the　substance　of　its　teaching　Latin　and　

Greek；　still；　with　no　thought　of　rotating　crops；　sowed　in　a　dream　

amidst　the　harvesting。



There　is　no　fierceness　left　in　the　teaching　now。　　Just　after　I　went　

up　to　Trinity；　Gates；　our　Head；　wrote　a　review　article　in　defence　of　

our　curriculum。　　In　this；　among　other　indiscretions；　he　asserted　

that　it　was　impossible　to　write　good　English　without　an　illuminating　

knowledge　of　the　classic　tongues；　and　he　split　an　infinitive　and　

failed　to　button　up　a　sentence　in　saying　so。　　His　main　argument　

conceded　every　objection　a　reasonable　person　could　make　to　the　City　

Merchants'　curriculum。　　He　admitted　that　translation　had　now　placed　

all　the　wisdom　of　the　past　at　a　common　man's　disposal；　that　scarcely　

a　field　of　endeavour　remained　in　which　modern　work　had　not　long　

since　passed　beyond　the　ancient　achievement。　　He　disclaimed　any　

utility。　　But　there　was；　he　said；　a　peculiar　magic　in　these　

grammatical　exercises　no　other　subjects　of　instruction　possessed。　　

Nothing　else　provided　the　same　strengthening　and　orderly　discipline　

for　the　mind。



He　said　that；　knowing　the　Senior　Classics　he　did；　himself　a　Senior　

Classic！



Yet　in　a　dim　confused　way　I　think　be　was　making　out　a　case。　　In　

schools　as　we　knew　them；　and　with　the　sort　of　assistant　available；　

the　sort　of　assistant　who　has　been　trained　entirely　on　the　old　

lines；　he　could　see　no　other　teaching　so　effectual　in　developing　

attention；　restraint；　sustained　constructive　effort　and　various　yet　

systematic　adjustment。　　And　that　was　as　far　as　his　imagination　could　

go。



It　is　infinitely　easier　to　begin　organised　human　affairs　than　end　

them；　the　curriculum　and　the　social　organisation　of　the　English　

public　school　are　the　crowning　instances　of　that。　　They　go　on　

because　they　have　begun。　　Schools　are　not　only　immortal　institutions　

but　reproductive　ones。　　Our　founder；　Jabez　Arvon；　knew　nothing；　I　am　

sure；　of　Gates'　pedagogic　values　and　would；　I　feel　certain；　have　

dealt　with　them　disrespectfully。　　But　public　schools　and　university　

colleges　sprang　into　existence　correlated；　the　scholars　went　on　to　

the　universities　and　came　back　to　teach　the　schools；　to　teach　as　

they　themselves　had　been　taught；　before　they　had　ever　made　any　real　

use　of　the　teaching；　the　crowd　of　boys　herded　together；　a　crowd　

perpetually　renewed　and　unbrokenly　the　same；　adjusted　itself　by　

means　of　spontaneously　developed　institutions。　　In　a　century；　by　its　

very　success；　this　revolutionary　innovation　of　Renascence　public　

schools　had　become　an　immense　tradition　woven　closely　into　the　

fabric　of　the　national　life。　　Intelligent　and　powerful　people　ceased　

to　talk　Latin　or　read　Greek；　they　had　got　what　was　wanted；　but　that　

only　left　the　schoolmaster　the　freer　to　elaborate　his　point。　　Since　

most　men　of　any　importance　or　influence　in　the　country　had　been　

through　the　mill；　it　was　naturally　a　little　difficult　to　persuade　

them　that　it　was　not　quite　the　best　and　most　ennobling　mill　the　wit　

of　man　could　devise。　　And；　moreover；　they　did　not　want　their　

children　made　strange　to　them。　　There　was　all　the　machinery　and　all　

the　men　needed　to　teach　the　old　subjects；　and　none　to　teach　whatever　

new　the　critic　might　propose。　　Such　science　instruction　as　my　father　

gave　seemed　indeed　the　uninviting　alternative　to　the　classical　

grind。　　It　was　certainly　an　altogether　inferior　instrument　at　that　

time。



So　it　was　I　occupied　my　mind　with　the　exact　study　of　dead　languages　

for　seven　long　years。　　It　was　the　strangest　of　detachments。　　We　

would　sit　under　the　desk　of　such　a　master　as　Topham　like　creatures　

who　had　fallen　into　an　enchanted　pit；　and　he　would　do　his　

considerable　best　to　work　us　up　to　enthusiasm　for；　let　us　say；　a　

Greek　play。　　If　we　flagged　he　would　lash　himself　to　revive　us。　　He　

would　walk　about　the　class…room　mouthing　great　lines　in　a　rich　roar；　

and　asking　us　with　a　flushed　face　and　shining　eyes　if　it　was　not　

〃GLORIOUS。〃　　The　very　sight　of　Greek　letters　brings　back　to　me　the　

dingy；　faded；　ink…splashed　quality　of　our　class…room；　the　banging　of　

books；　Topham's　disordered　hair；　the　sheen　of　his　alpaca　gown；　his　

deep　unmusical　intonations　and　the　wide　striding　of　his　creaking　

boots。　　Glorious！　　And　being　plastic　human　being