the research magnificent-第3部分

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　run　amuck。〃　For　a　week　or　so　the　school　was　exhilarated　by　a　vain　and　ill…　concealed　hope　that　the　head　might　try　it　just　to　see　if　Benham　would。　　It　was　tantalizingly　within　the　bounds　of　possibility。　。　。　。　These　incidents　came　back　to　White's　mind　as　he　turned　over　the　newspapers　in　the　upper　drawer　of　the　bureau。　　The　drawer　was　labelled　〃Fearthe　First　Limitation；〃　and　the　material　in　it　was　evidently　designed　for　the　opening　volume　of　the　great　unfinished　book。　　Indeed；　a　portion　of　it　was　already　arranged　and　written　up。　As　White　read　through　this　manuscript　he　was　reminded　of　a　score　of　schoolboy　discussions　Benham　and　he　and　Prothero　had　had　together。　Here　was　the　same　old　toughness　of　mind；　a　kind　of　intellectual　hardihood；　that　had　sometimes　shocked　his　schoolfellows。　　Benham　had　been　one　of　those　boys　who　do　not　originate　ideas　very　freely；　but　who　go　out　to　them　with　a　fierce　sincerity。　　He　believed　and　disbelieved　with　emphasis。　　Prothero　had　first　set　him　doubting；　but　it　was　Benham's　own　temperament　took　him　on　to　denial。　　His　youthful　atheism　had　been　a　matter　for　secret　consternation　in　White。　　White　did　not　believe　very　much　in　God　even　then；　but　this　positive　disbelieving　frightened　him。　　It　was　going　too　far。　　There　had　been　a　terrible　moment　in　the　dormitory；　during　a　thunderstorm；　a　thunderstorm　so　vehement　that　it　had　awakened　them　all；　when　Latham；　the　humourist　and　a　quietly　devout　boy；　had　suddenly　challenged　Benham　to　deny　his　Maker。　〃NOW　say　you　don't　believe　in　God？〃　Benham　sat　up　in　bed　and　repeated　his　negative　faith；　while　little　Hopkins；　the　Bishop's　son；　being　less　certain　about　the　accuracy　of　Providence　than　His　aim；　edged　as　far　as　he　could　away　from　Benham's　cubicle　and　rolled　his　head　in　his　bedclothes。　〃And　anyhow；〃　said　Benham；　when　it　was　clear　that　he　was　not　to　be　struck　dead　forthwith；　〃you　show　a　poor　idea　of　your　God　to　think　he'd　kill　a　schoolboy　for　honest　doubt。　　Even　old　Roddles〃　〃I　can't　listen　to　you；〃　cried　Latham　the　humourist；　〃I　can't　listen　to　you。　　It'sHORRIBLE。〃　〃Well；　who　began　it？〃　asked　Benham。　A　flash　of　lightning　lit　the　dormitory　and　showed　him　to　White　white…faced　and　ablaze　with　excitement；　sitting　up　with　the　bed…　clothes　about　him。　　〃Oh　WOW！〃　wailed　the　muffled　voice　of　little　Hopkins　as　the　thunder　burst　like　a　giant　pistol　overhead；　and　he　buried　his　head　still　deeper　in　the　bedclothes　and　gave　way　to　unappeasable　grief。　Latham's　voice　came　out　of　the　darkness。　　〃This　ATHEISM　that　you　and　Billy　Prothero　have　brought　into　the　school〃　He　started　violently　at　another　vivid　flash；　and　every　one　remained　silent；　waiting　for　the　thunder。　。　。　。　But　White　remembered　no　more　of　the　controversy　because　he　had　made　a　frightful　discovery　that　filled　and　blocked　his　mind。　　Every　time　the　lightning　flashed；　there　was　a　red　light　in　Benham's　eyes。　。　。　。　It　was　only　three　days　after　when　Prothero　discovered　exactly　the　same　phenomenon　in　the　School　House　boothole　and　talked　of　cats　and　cattle；　that　White's　confidence　in　their　friend　was　partially　restored。　。　。　。

4

〃Fear；　the　First　Limitation〃his　title　indicated　the　spirit　of　Benham's　opening　book　very　clearly。　　His　struggle　with　fear　was　the　very　beginning　of　his　soul's　history。　　It　continued　to　the　end。　　He　had　hardly　decided　to　lead　the　noble　life　before　he　came　bump　against　the　fact　that　he　was　a　physical　coward。　　He　felt　fear　acutely。　　〃Fear；〃　he　wrote；　〃is　the　foremost　and　most　persistent　of　the　shepherding　powers　that　keep　us　in　the　safe　fold；　that　drive　us　back　to　the　beaten　track　and　comfort　andfutility。　　The　beginning　of　all　aristocracy　is　the　subjugation　of　fear。〃　At　first　the　struggle　was　so　great　that　he　hated　fear　without　any　qualification；　he　wanted　to　abolish　it　altogether。　〃When　I　was　a　boy；〃　he　writes；　〃I　thought　I　would　conquer　fear　for　good　and　all；　and　never　more　be　troubled　by　it。　　But　it　is　not　to　be　done　in　that　way。　　One　might　as　well　dream　of　having　dinner　for　the　rest　of　one's　life。　　Each　time　and　always　I　have　found　that　it　has　to　be　conquered　afresh。　　To　this　day　I　fear；　little　things　as　well　as　big　things。　　I　have　to　grapple　with　some　little　dread　every　day　urge　myself。　。　。　。　　Just　as　I　have　to　wash　and　shave　myself　every　day。　。　。　。　　I　believe　it　is　so　with　every　one；　but　it　is　difficult　to　be　sure；　few　men　who　go　into　dangers　care　very　much　to　talk　about　fear。　。　。　。〃　Later　Benham　found　some　excuses　for　fear；　came　even　to　dealings　with　fear。　　He　never；　however；　admits　that　this　universal　instinct　is　any　better　than　a　kindly　but　unintelligent　nurse　from　whose　fostering　restraints　it　is　man's　duty　to　escape。　　Discretion；　he　declared；　must　remain；　a　sense　of　proportion；　an　〃adequacy　of　enterprise；〃　but　the　discretion　of　an　aristocrat　is　in　his　head；　a　tactical　detail；　it　has　nothing　to　do　with　this　visceral　sinking；　this　ebb　in　the　nerves。　　〃From　top　to　bottom；　the　whole　spectrum　of　fear　is　bad；　from　panic　fear　at　one　extremity　down　to　that　mere　disinclination　for　enterprise；　that　reluctance　and　indolence　which　is　its　lowest　phase。　　These　are　things　of　the　beast；　these　are　for　creatures　that　have　a　settled　environment；　a　life　history；　that　spin　in　a　cage　of　instincts。　　But　man　is　a　beast　of　that　kind　no　longer；　he　has　left　his　habitat；　he　goes　out　to　limitless　living。　。　。　。〃　This　idea　of　man　going　out　into　new　things；　leaving　securities；　habits；　customs；　leaving　his　normal　life　altogether　behind　him；　underlay　all　Benham's　aristocratic　conceptions。　　And　it　was　natural　that　he　should　consider　fear　as　entirely　inconvenient；　treat　it　indeed　with　ingratitude；　and　dwell　upon　the　immense　liberations　that　lie　beyond　for　those　who　will　force　themselves　through　its　remonstrances。　。　。　。　Benham　confessed　his　liability　to　fear　quite　freely　in　these　notes。　His　fear　of　animals　was　ineradicable。　　He　had　had　an　overwhelming　dread　of　bears　until　he　was　twelve　or　thirteen；　the　child's　irrational　dread　of　impossible　bears；　bears　lurking　under　the　bed　and　in　the　evening　shadows。　　He　confesses　that　even　up　to　manhood　he　could　not　cross　a　field　containing　cattle　without　keeping　a　wary　eye　upon　themhis　bull　adventure　rather　increased　than　diminished　that　dispositionhe　hated　a　strange　dog　at　his　heels　and　would　manoeuvre　himself　as　soon　as　possible　out　of　reach　of　the　teeth　or　heels　of　a　horse。　　But　the　peculiar　dread　of　his　childhood　was　tigers。　　Some　gaping　nursemaid　confronted　him　suddenly　with　a　tiger　in　a　cage　in　the　menagerie　annexe　of　a　circus。　　〃My　small　mind　was　overwhelmed。〃　〃I　had　never　thought；〃　White　read；　〃that　a　tiger　was　much　larger　than　a　St。　Bernard　dog。　。　。　。　　This　great　creature！　。　。　。　　I　could　not　believe　any　hunter　would　attack　such　a　monster　except　by　stealth　and　with　weapons　of　enormous　power。　。　。　。　〃He　jerked　himself　to　and　fro　across　his　cramped；　rickety　cage　and　looked　over　my　head　with　yellow　eyesat　some　phantom　far　away。　Every　now　and　then　he　snarled。　　The　contempt　of　his　detestable　indifference　sank　deeper　and　deeper　into　my　soul。　　I　knew　that　were　the　cage　to　vanish　I　should　stand　there　motionless；　his　helpless　prey。　　I　knew　that　were　he　at　large　in　the　same　building　with　me　I　should　be　too　terror…stricken　to　escape　him。　　At　the　foot　of　a　ladder　leading　clear　to　escape　I　should　have　await