Four Years-第6章

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you　can　do　with　it　is　to　put　it　in　a　tube　with　a　cork　at　each　end。　i　remember　too　that　when　i　asked　what　led　up　to　his　movement；　he　replied；　oh；　ruskin　and　carlyle；　but　somebody　should　have　been　beside　carlyle　and　punched　his　head　every　five　minutes。　though　i　remember　little；　i　do　not　doubt　that；　had　i　continued　going　there　on　sunday　evenings；　i　should　have　caught　fire　from　his　words　and　turned　my　hand　to　some　mediaeval　work　or　other。　just　before　i　had　ceased　to　go　there　i　had　sent　my　wanderings　of　usheen　to　his　daughter；　hoping　of　course　that　it　might　meet　his　eyes；　&　soon　after　sending　it　i　came　upon　him　by　chance　in　holborn。

you　write　my　sort　of　poetry；　he　said　and　began　to　praise　me　and　to　promise　to　send　his　praise　to　the　monwealth；　the　league　organ；　and　he　would　have　said　more　of　a　certainty　had　he　not　caught　sight　of　a　new　ornamental　cast？iron　lamp？post　and　got　very　heated　upon　that　subject。

i　did　not　read　economics；　having　turned　socialist　because　of　morriss　lectures　and　pamphlets；　and　i　think　it　unlikely　that　morris　himself　could　read　economics。　that　old　dogma　of　mine　seemed　germane　to　the　matter。　if　the　men　and　women　imagined　by　the　poets　were　the　norm；　and　if　morris　had；　in；　let　us　say；　news　from　nowhere；　then　running　through　the　monwealth；　described　such　men　and　women　living　under　their　natural　conditions　or　as　they　would　desire　to　live；　then　those　conditions　themselves　must　be　the　norm；　and　could　we　but　get　rid　of　certain　institutions　the　world　would　turn　from　eccentricity。　perhaps　morris　himself　justified　himself　in　his　own　heart　by　as　simple　an　argument；　and　was；　as　the　socialist　d。。。　said　to　me　one　night　walking　home　after　some　lecture；　an　anarchist　without　knowing　it。　certainly　i　and　all　about　me；　including　d。。。　himself；　were　for　chopping　up　the　old　king　for　medeas　pot。　morris　had　told　us　to　have　nothing　to　do　with　the　parliamentary　socialists；　represented　for　men　in　general　by　the　fabian　society　and　hyndmans　socialist　democratic　federation　and　for　us　in　particular　by　d。。。　during　the　period　of　transition　mistakes　must　be　made；　and　the　discredit　of　these　mistakes　must　be　left　to　the　bourgeoisie；　and　besides；　when　you　begin　to　talk　of　this　measure　or　that　other　you　lose　sight　of　the　goal　and　see；　to　reverse　swinburnes　description　of　tiresias；　light　on　the　way　but　darkness　on　the　goal。　by　mistakes　morris　meant　vexatious　restrictions　and　promises？？if　any　man　puts　me　into　a　labour　squad；　i　will　lie　on　my　back　and　kick。　that　phrase　very　much　expresses　our　idea　of　revolutionary　tactics：　we　all　intended　to　lie　upon　our　back　and　kick。　d。。。；　pale　and　sedentary；　did　not　dislike　labour　squads　and　we　all　hated　him　with　the　left　side　of　our　heads；　while　admiring　him　immensely　with　the　right。　he　alone　was　invited　to　entertain　mrs。　morris；　having　many　tales　of　his　irish　uncles；　more　especiallyof　one　particular　uncle　who　had　tried　to　mit　suicide　by　shutting　his　head　into　a　carpet　bag。　at　that　time　he　was　an　obscure　man；　known　only　for　a　witty　speaker　at　street　corners　and　in　park　demonstrations。　he　had；　with　an　assumed　truculence　and　fury；　cold　logic；　an　universal　gentleness；　an　unruffled　courtesy；　and　yet　could　never　close　a　speech　without　being　denounced　by　a　journeyman　hatter　with　an　italian　name。　converted　to　socialism　by　d。。。；　and　to　anarchism　by　himself；　with　swinging　arm　and　uplifted　voice　this　man　perhaps　exaggerated　our　scruple　about　parliament。　i　lack；　said　d。。。；　the　bump　of　reverence；　whereon　the　wild　man　shouted　you　ave　a　ole。　there　are　moments　when　looking　back　i　somewhat　confuse　my　own　figure　with　that　of　the　hatter；　image　of　our　hysteria；　for　i　too　became　violent　with　the　violent　solemnity　of　a　religious　devotee。

i　can　even　remember　sitting　behind　d。。。　and　saying　some　rude　thing　or　other　over　his　shoulder。　i　dont　remember　why　i　gave　it　up　but　i　did　quite　suddenly；　and　i　think　the　push　may　have　e　from　a　young　workman　who　was　educating　himself　between　morris　and　karl　marx。　he　had　planned　a　history　of　the　navy　and　when　i　had　spoken　of　the　battleship　of　nelsons　day；　had　said：　oh；　that　was　the　decadence　of　the　battleship；　but　if　his　naval　interests　were　mediaeval；　his　ideas　about　religion　were　pure　karl　marx；　and　we　were　soon　in　perpetual　argument。　then　gradually　the　attitude　towards　religion　of　almost　everybody　but　morris；　who　avoided　the　subject　altogether；　got　upon　my　nerves；　for　i　broke　out　after　some　lecture　or　other　with　all　the　arrogance　of　raging　youth。　they　attacked　religion；　i　said；　or　some　such　words；　and　yet　there　must　be　a　change　of　heart　and　only　religion　could　make　it。　what　was　the　use　of　talking　about　some　near　revolution　putting　all　things　right；　when　the　change　must　e；　if　e　it　did；　with　astronomical　slowness；　like　the　cooling　of　the　sun　or；　it　may　have　been；　like　the　drying　of　the　moon？　morris　rang　his　chairmans　bell；　but　i　was　too　angry　to　listen；　and　he　had　to　ring　it　a　second　time　before　i　sat　down。　he　said　that　night　at　supper：　of　course　i　know　there　must　be　a　change　of　heart；　but　it　will　not　e　as　slowly　as　all　that。　i　rang　my　bell　because　you　were　not　being　understood。　he　did　not　show　any　vexation；　but　i　never　returned　after　that　night；　and　yet　i　did　not　always　believe　what　i　had　said　and　only　gradually　gave　up　thinking　of　and　planning　for　some　near　sudden　change　for　the　better。

　。。



Four　YearsXI

～　　
i　spent　my　days　at　the　british　museum　and　must；　i　think；　have　been　delicate；　for　i　remember　often　putting　off　hour　after　hour　consulting　some　necessary　book　because　i　shrank　from　lifting　the　heavy　volumes　of　the　catalogue；　and　yet　to　save　money　for　my　afternoon　coffee　and　roll　i　often　walked　the　whole　way　home　to　bedford　park。　i　was　piling；　for　a　series　of　shilling　books；　an　anthology　of　irish　fairy　stories　and；　for　an　american　publisher；　a　two　volume　selection　from　the　irish　novelists　that　would　be　somewhat　dearer。　i　was　not　well　paid；　for　each　book　cost　me　more　than　three　months　reading；　and　i　was　paid　for　the　first　some　twelve　pounds；　（o　mr。　e。。。　said　publisher　to　editor；　you　must　never　again　pay　so　much）　and　for　the　second；　twenty；　but　i　did　not　think　myself　badly　paid；　for　i　had　chosen　the　work　for　my　own　purposes。

though　i　went　to　sligo　every　summer；　i　was　pelled　to　live　out　of　ireland　the　greater　part　of　every　year　and　was　but　keeping　my　mind　upon　what　i　knew　must　be　the　subject　matter　of　my　poetry。　i　believed　that　if　morris　had　set　his　stories　amid　the　scenery　of　his　own　wales　（for　i　knew　him　to　be　of　welsh　extraction　and　supposed　wrongly　that　he　had　spent　his　childhood　there）　that　if　shelley　had　nailed　his　prometheus　or　some　equal　symbol　upon　some　welsh　or　scottish　rock；　their　art　had　entered　more　intimately；　more　microscopically；　as　it　were；　into　our　thought；　and　had　given　perhaps　to　modern　poetry　a　breadth　and　stability　like　that　of　ancient　poetry。　the　statues　of　mausolus　and　artemisia　at　the　british　museum；　private；　half　animal；　half　divine　figures；　all　unlike　the　grecian　athletes　and　egyptian　kings　in　their　near　neighbourhood；　that　stand　in　the　middle　of　the　crowds　applause　or　sit　above　measuring　it　out　unpersuadable　justice；　became　to　me；　now　or　later；　images　of　an　unpremeditated　joyous　energy；　that　neither　i　nor　any　other　man；　racked　by　doubt　and　enquiry；　can　achieve；　and　that　yet；　if　once　achieved；　might　seem　to　men　and　women　of　connemara　or　of　galway　their　very　soul。　in　our　study　of　that　ruined　tomb；　raised　by　a　queen　to　her　dead　lover；　and　finished　by　the　unpaid　labour　of　great　sculptors　after　her　death　from　grief；　or　so　runs　the　tale；　we　cannot　distinguish　the　handiworks　of　scopas　and　praxiteles；　and　i　wanted　to　create　once　more　an　art；　where　the　artists　handiwork　would　hide　as　under　those　half　anonymous　chisels；　or　as　we　find　it　in　some　old　scots　ballads　or　in　some　twelfth　or　thirteenth　century　arthurian　romance。　that　handiwork　assured；　i　had　martyred　no　man　for　modelling　his　own　image　upon　pallasathenas　buckler；　for　i　took　great　pleasure　in　certain　allusions　to　the　singers　life　one　finds　in　old　romances　and　ballads；　and　thought　his　presence　there　all　the　more　poignant　because　we　discover　it　half　lost；　like　portly　chaucer　riding　behind　his　maunciple　and　his　pardoner。　wolfram　von　eschenbach；　singing　his　german　parsival；　broke　off　some　description　of　a　famished　city　to　remember　that　in　his　own　house　at　home　the　very　mice　lacked　food；　and　what　old　ballad　singer　was　it　who　claimed　to　have　fought　by　day　in　the　very　battle　he　sang　by　night？　so　masterful　indeed　was　that　instinct　that　when　the　minstrel　knew　not　who　his　poet　was　he　must　needs　make　up　a　man：　when　any　stranger　asks　who　is　the　sweetest　of　singers；　answer　with　one　voice：　〃a　blind　man；　he　dwells　upon　rocky　chios；　his　songs　shall　be　the　most　beautiful　for　ever。〃　elaborate　modern　psychology　sounds　egotistical；　i　thought；　when　it　speaks　in　the　first　person；　but　not　those　simple　emotions　which　resemble　the　more；　the　more　powerful　they　are；　everybodys　emotion；　and　i　was　soon　to　write　many　poems　where　an　always　personal　emotion　was　woven　into　a　general　pattern　of　myth　and　symbol。　when　the　fenian　poet　says　that　his　heart　has　grown　cold　and　callous；　for　thy　hapless　fate；　dear　ireland；　and　sorrows　of　my　own；　he　but　follows　tradition；　and　if　he　does　not　move　us　deeply；　it　is　because　he　has　no　sensuous　musical　vocabulary　t