160 CULTURE AND SOCIETY 1780-1950

Before theuprising of

modern

Socialism almostallin telligent people ^eitherwere, or professed themselves to be, quitecontented

with

thecivilizationofthis

cen

tury. Again, almost ^all of these really

were

thus

con

tented,

and saw

nothing ^to

do but

toperfect the ^said civilization

by

getting rid ofa

few

ridiculous survivals ofthe barbarousages.^24*

(This, evidently, ^is Morris's

judgement

^{of the} utilitarian liberals.)

To be

short, this

was

the

Whig ^frame

^of

^mind,

^natural

to the

modern

prosperous middle-class

men, who,

ⁱⁿ

fact, as far as

mechanical

progress ^is concerned,

have

nothing^toaskfor,^ifonly Socialism

would

^leave

them

aloneto enjoy their plentiful style.

But

besides these contented ones there

were

others

who were

not_really contented,

but had

a

vague

^{sentiment of}repulsion ^to the

triumph

^of civilization,

but were

coercedinto si

lence

by

^themeasureless

power

^of

Whiggery.

²⁴⁶

(Civilization,inthis lastsentence, ^is

used

in

a

Coleridgian sense,^asalimited term. In the previoussentence,thelimit ing function of

mechanical

is also evident.

These

are the traditional terms.)

Lastly, there

were

a

few who were

in

open

^rebellion against the said

Whiggery

a few, say two, Carlyle

and

Ruskin.

The

latter, before

my

^days of practical socialism,

was my

master towards theideal.240

Thus

Morris

acknowledges both

^thetradition

and

his

own

extension of it

He now

restatesthe

grounds

^ofthe opposi tion to 'civilization':

Apart from

^{thedesire to}

produce

beautiful things,the leading passion ^of

my Me

^has

^{been and}

^{is hatred of}

modern

civilization. . . .

What

shall Isay concerning

its mastery ^of

and

its

waste

of

mechanical power,

^its

commonwealth

_{so poor,} its

enemies

of the

common

wealth

so rich, ^its

stupendous

organization ^for the misery^oflife!Its

contempt

^ofsimplepleasures,

which

everyone

could enjoy

but

forits folly?^Its eyeless vul-

ABT AND

SOCIETY l6l garity

which

has destroyed art, the

one

certain solace of labour? ^. . .

The

struggles of

mankind

for

many

ages

had _produced

_nothing

but

this sordid, aimless,

ugly

confusion; the

immediate

future

seemed

to

me

likely to intensify ^all the present ^evils

by sweeping away

^{the last survivals of} the days before the ^dull squalor^ofcivilization

had

settled

down on

the world.

This

was a bad

look-outindeed, and,^ifI

may ^mention

myself^as apersonality

and

not^as a

mere

_{type, espe}

ciallyso to a

man

of

my

disposition, careless of

meta

physics

and

_religion, as well as of scientific analysis,

but with

a

deep

^{love ofthe earth}

and

thelife

on

it,

and

_{a passion}for the_{history of} the past^of

mankind.

Think

ofit!

Was

it all to

end

in

a

counting-house

on

the top^ofa cinder-heap,

with

_Podsnap's

drawing-room

Inthe_offing,

and

a

Whig ^committee

dealing out

cham pagne

^{to the rich}

and margarine

^{to the}

poor

^{in such} convenient proportions ^as

would make

all

men con

tented _together,

though

the pleasure ^ofthe eyes

was gone from

the world,

and

_{the place}of

Homer was

to

be

taken

by Huxley

^.24d

This

kind

of opposition ^is

by now

very familiar,

and we

can

seeinitelementsof Carlyle,

Ruskin and

_Pugin,

and

of the popularization^oftheseideas inDickens.

There

isalso, significantly,theanti-scientificelement: the

Romantic

prej

udice

that a

mechanical

civilization

had been

created

by a mechanical

science,

and

that science

was

attempting^to substitutefor art.

One would have

expected Morris^{to re}

member,

^as

^he

^elsewhere insisted, that theoffered substi tutefor art

was bad

art;

and

thatit

was

notscientific

en

quiry

(however

indifferent to it Morris

might

personally

be) but

the organization ^of

economic

_life,

which had produced

the misery

and

the_vulgarity.

Keeping

^thispoint aside,

we

_pass^to Morris'simportant

new

_emphasis:

So

thereI

was

in for a finepessimistic

end

oflife, if it

had

not

somehow dawned on me

thatamidst^allthis filth of civilization the seeds ofa great change,

what

we

others call Social-Revolution,

were

_beginning to germinate. ^{. . .} (This) prevented

me,

^{luckier than}

l62 CULTUBE AND

SOCIETY

1780-1950

many

^{others ofartistic}perceptions,

from

crystallizing into a

mere

railer against 'progress*

on

the

one hand, and on

the other

from

_wasting

time and energy

ⁱⁿ

any

of the

numerous schemes by ^which

^the quasi-artistic of the

middle

classes

hope

^to

make

art

grow when

it

has

no

_longer

any

root,

and

thus I

became

a _practical Socialist. ^{. . .} Surely

any one who

professes to think that the question ^{of art}

and

cultivation

must _{go be}

fore that of the knife

and

fork

(and

^{there are}

some who _{do propose}

that) does not

understand what

art

means,

^or

how

thatitsroots

must have

asoilof a thriv ing

and

unanxiouslife.

Yet

it

must be remembered

that civilizationhas

reduced

the

workman

to

such

_{a skinny}

and

_pitiful existence, that

he

_scarcely

knows how

to

frame

adesire for

any

^life

much

betterthanthat

which he now

endures _perforce. Itis the province of art to set the true ideal of

a

_full

and

reasonable _life before him, a ^{life to}

which

the perception

and

creation of beauty, the

enjoyment

^{of real}pleasure^thatis,shall

be

feltto

be

^asnecessary^to

man

as his daily bread,

and

that

no man, and no

set of

men, can be

deprived ^of this except

by mere

opposition,

which

should

be

re sistedtothe utmost.²⁵

The

social revolution, then,

was

to

be

the

answer

to the deadlock of the 'railers against progress'.

The

_priority of 'cultivation* issetaside, interms that

remind one

of

Cob-

bett. Yet, unlike Cobbett, Morris uses the idea of culture, in particular in^its

embodiment

ⁱⁿart,as a positive^criterion:

'thetrue ideal of

a

full

and

reasonable life*.

Like

Cobbett, Morris

would have

_nothingsetasa_priorityover the claims of

working men

to

an improvement

in their conditions;

but

unlikeCobbett,

who

set his objective interms ofa

remem bered

_{society, Morris,} likeBlake or Raskin, ^{sets his social} objective intermsofthefulness oflife

which

art especially reveals.

Morris's principal opponent, ⁱⁿ fact,

was

Arnold.

The word

_'culture*,

because

it

was

associated in his

mind

^witih Arnold'sconclusions,^isusuallyroughly handled:

In the_thirtyyearsduring

which

I

have known Oxford

ABT AKD

SOCIETY 163

more damage

^has

^{been done}

^{to art}

(and

therefore to literature)

by ^Oxford

^{'culture'than}centuries of profes sors could_{repair for,} indeed,^{it is} irreparable.

These

coarsebrutalitiesof light

and

_leading'

make

education stink inthenostrilsofthoughtfulpersons,

and ...

are

more

likely

than

isSocialismtodrive

some

ofus

mad.

...

I say^{that to}attempt^toteachliterature

with one hand

whileitdestroys history

with

the otheris

a be

wilderingproceeding

on

_{the part}of'culture'.26

The

_pointofthis

was

Morris'sopposition^tothe'moderniza tion'of Oxford:

I

wish

toaskif it istoolateto appeal^to the

mercy

^of the 'Dons'to spare the

few

_specimensofancient

town

architecture

which

they

have

_{not yet}

had

timeto

de

stroy. ^{. . .}

Oxford

thirtyyears ago,

when

^Ifirst

knew

it,

was

full of these treasures;

but Oxford

'culture', cynically

contemptuous

^{of the}

knowledge which

^it does not

know, and

steeped ^to the _lips in the

com

mercialismofthe day, has

made

a clean

sweep

^of

most

of

them.

²⁷

As

so often,a_particular

argument

^ishere entangled with

a much more

general judgement. This^isverytypical of

Mor

ris's

method, which

is often

no more than

a kind of

gen

eralizedswearing.

Yet

the general

argument

^isthere,

when he

troubles to control^it.

Oxford was

^for

him a

test-case,

on

theissue

whether

culturecould

be

saved

from commercial ism by

^isolatingit:

There

are ofthe English

middle

class,today^{. . .}

men

of the highest aspirations

towards

Art,

and

of the strongestwill;

men who

are

most

deeply convinced^of the_necessityto civilizationofsurrounding men's ^lives

with

beauty;

and many

^lesser

^men,

^thousandsfor

^what

I

know,

^refined

and

cultivated,follow

them and

praise their opinions:

but both

^{the leaders}

and

the led are incapable^ofsaving^so

much

^{as half}

^{a dozen commons}

from

_{the grasp} ofinexorable

Commerce:

they ^{are as} helpless in spite oftheir culture

and

theirgenius^{as if} they

were

_justso

many ^overworked

shoemakers: less