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Title: Microcosmographia Academica.
   Being a Guide for the Young Academic Politician.
Author: Cornford, Francis Macdonald (1874-1943)
Date of first publication: 1908
Edition used as base for this ebook:
   Cambridge: Bowes and Bowes, 1908
Date first posted: 29 November 2011
Date last updated: 29 November 2011
Project Gutenberg Canada ebook #889

This ebook was produced by
Barbara Watson, Lisa Wahl, Mark Akrigg
& the Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team
at http://www.pgdpcanada.net

This ebook was produced from images generously made
available by the Internet Archive/University of California Libraries






           MICROCOSMOGRAPHIA
           ACADEMICA    BEING A
           GUIDE FOR THE YOUNG
           ACADEMIC POLITICIAN



         BOWES AND BOWES, CAMBRIDGE
                 MCMVIII




          PRICE ONE SHILLING NET







               CAMBRIDGE

        PRINTED BY JONATHAN PALMER

             ALEXANDRA STREET








            ADVERTISEMENT


    _If you are young, do not read this book; it is not fit for you;
     If you are old, throw it away; you have nothing to learn from it;
     If you are unambitious, light the fire with it; you do not need
          its guidance._

    _But, if you are neither less than twenty-five years old, nor more
          than thirty;
     And, if you are ambitious withal, and your spirit hankers after
          academic politics;
     Read, and may your soul (if you have a soul) find mercy!_





I    WARNING



   'Any one of us might say, that although in words he is not able
   to meet you at each step of the argument, he sees as a fact that
   academic persons, when they carry on study, not only in youth as
   a part of education, but as the pursuit of their maturer years,
   most of them become decidedly queer, not to say rotten; and that
   those who may be considered the best of them are made useless to
   the world by the very study which you extol.

   'Well, and do you think that those who say so are wrong?

   'I cannot tell, he replied; but I should like to know what is
   your opinion?

   'Hear my answer; I am of opinion that they are quite right.'

                                                  Plato, _Republic_ VI


My heart is full of pity for you, O young academic politician. If you
_will_ be a politician, you have a painful path to follow, even though
it be a short one, before you nestle down into a modest incompetence.
While you are young you will be oppressed, and angry, and increasingly
disagreeable. When you reach middle age, at five-and-thirty, you will
become complacent, and, in your turn, an oppressor; those whom you
oppress will find you still disagreeable; and so will all the people
whose toes you trod upon in youth. It will seem to you then that you
grow wiser every day, as you learn more and more of the reasons why
things should not be done, and understand more fully the peculiarities
of powerful persons, which make it quixotic even to attempt them without
first going through an amount of squaring and lobbying sufficient to
sicken any but the most hardened soul. If you persist to the threshold
of old age--your fiftieth year, let us say--you will be a powerful
person yourself, with an accretion of peculiarities which other people
will have to study in order to square you. The toes you will have
trodden on by this time will be as the sands on the sea-shore; and from
far below you will mount the roar of a ruthless multitude of young men
in a hurry. You may perhaps grow to be aware what they are in a hurry to
do. They are in a hurry to get you out of the way.

O young academic politician, my heart is full of pity for you now; but
when you are old, if you will stand in the way, there will be no more
pity for you than you deserve; and that will be none at all.

       *       *       *       *       *

I shall take it that you are in the first flush of ambition, and just
beginning to make yourself disagreeable. You think (do you not?) that
you have only to state a reasonable case, and people must listen to
reason and act upon it at once. It is just this conviction that makes
you so unpleasant. There is little hope of dissuading you; but has it
occurred to you that nothing is ever done until every one is convinced
that it ought to be done, and has been convinced for so long that it is
now time to do something else? And are you not aware that conviction has
never yet been produced by an appeal to reason, which only makes people
uncomfortable? If you want to move them, you must address your arguments
to prejudice and to the political motive, which I will presently
describe. I should hesitate to write down so elementary a principle, if
I were not sure you need to be told it. And you will not believe me,
because you think your cases are so much more reasonable than mine can
have been, and you are ashamed to study men's weaknesses and prejudices.
You would rather batter away at the Shield of Faith than spy out the
joints in the harness.

I like you the better for your illusions; but it cannot be denied that
they prevent you from being effective, and if you do not become
effective before you cease to want anything to be done--why, what will
be the good of you? So I present you with this academic
microcosmography--the merest sketch of the little world that lies before
you. A satirist or an embittered man might have used darker colours; and
I own that I have only drawn those aspects which it is most useful that
you, as a politician, should know. There is another world within this
microcosm--a silent, reasonable world, which you are now bent on
leaving. Some day you may go back to it; and you will enjoy its calm the
more for your excursion in the world of unreason.

Now listen, and I will tell you what this outer world is like.

       *       *       *       *       *




II    PARTIES


First, perhaps, I had better describe the parties in academic politics;
it is not easy to distinguish them precisely. There are five; and they
are called Conservative Liberals, Liberal Conservatives, Non-placets,
Adullamites, and Young Men in a Hurry.

A _Conservative Liberal_ is a broad-minded man, who thinks that
something ought to be done, only not anything that anyone now desires,
but something which was not done in 1881-82.


A _Liberal Conservative_ is a broad-minded man, who thinks that
something ought to be done, only not anything that anyone now desires;
and that most things which were done in 1881-82 ought to be undone.


The men of both these parties are alike in being open to conviction; but
so many convictions have already got inside, that it is very difficult
to find the openings. They dwell in the Valley of Indecision.


The _Non-Placet_ differs in not being open to conviction: he is a man of
principle. A principle is a rule of inaction, which states a valid
general reason for not doing in any particular case what, to
unprincipled instinct, would appear to be right. The Non-placet believes
that it is always well to be on the Safe Side, which can be easily
located as the northern side of the interior of the Senate House. He
will be a person whom you have never seen before, and will never see
again anywhere but in his favourite station on the left of the place of
judgment.


The _Adullamites_ are dangerous, because they know what they want; and
that is, all the money there is going. They inhabit a series of caves
near Downing Street. They say to one another, 'If you will scratch my
back, I will scratch yours; and if you won't, I will scratch your face.'
It will be seen that these cave-dwellers are not refined, like classical
men. That is why they succeed in getting all the money there is going.


A _Young Man in a Hurry_ is a narrow-minded and ridiculously youthful
prig, who is inexperienced enough to imagine that something might be
done before very long, and even to suggest definite things. His most
dangerous defect being want of experience, everything should be done to
prevent him from taking any part in affairs. He may be known by his
propensity to organise societies for the purpose of making silk purses
out of sows' ears. This tendency is not so dangerous as it might seem;
for it may be observed that the sows, after taking their washing with a
grunt or two, trundle back unharmed to the wallow; and the purse-market
is quoted as firm. The Young Man in a Hurry is afflicted with a
conscience, which is apt to break out, like the measles, in patches. To
listen to him, you would think he united the virtues of a Brutus to the
passion for lost causes of a Cato; he has not learnt that most of his
causes are lost by letting the Cato out of the bag, instead of tying him
up firmly and sitting on him, as experienced people do.

       *       *       *       *       *

O young academic politician, know thyself!




III    CAUCUSES


A Caucus is like a mouse-trap: when you are outside you want to get in;
and when you are inside the mere sight of the other mice makes you want
to get out. The trap is baited with muffins and cigars--except in the
case of the Non-placet Caucus, an ascetic body, which, as will presently
be seen, satisfies only spiritual needs.


The _Adullamites_ hold a Caucus from time to time to conspire against
the College System. They wear blue spectacles and false beards, and say
the most awful things to one another. There are two ways of dispersing
these anarchs. One is to suggest that working hours might be lengthened.
The other is to convert the provider of muffins and cigars to
Conservative Liberalism. To mention belling the cat would be simply
indecent.

No one can tell the difference between a _Liberal Conservative_ Caucus
and a _Conservative Liberal_ one. There is nothing in the world more
innocent than either. The most dare-devil action they ever take is to
move for the appointment of a Syndicate 'to consider what means, if any,
can be discovered to prevent the Public Washing of Linen, and to report,
if they can see straight, to the Non-placets.' The result is the
formation of an invertebrate body, which sits for two years, with
growing discomfort, on the clothes-basket containing the linen. When the
Syndicate is so stupefied that it has quite forgotten what it is sitting
on, it issues three minority reports, of enormous bulk, on some
different subject. The reports are referred by the Council to the
Non-placets, and by the Non-placets to the wastepaper basket. This is
called 'reforming the University from within.'

At election times each of these two Caucuses meets to select for
nomination those members of its own party who are most likely to be
mistaken by the Non-placets for members of the other party. The best
results are achieved when the nominees get mixed up in such a way that
the acutest of Non-placets cannot divine which ticket represents which
party. The system secures that the balance of power shall be most
happily maintained, and that all Young Men in a Hurry shall be excluded.


The _Young Men in a Hurry_ have no regular Caucus. They meet, by twos
and threes, in desolate places, and gnash their teeth.


The _Non-placet_ Caucus exists for the purpose of distributing Church
patronage among those of its members who have adhered immovably to the
principles of the party.


All Caucuses have the following rule. At Caucus meetings which are only
attended by one member (owing to that member's having omitted to summon
the others), the said member shall be deemed to constitute a quorum, and
may vote the meeting full powers to go on the square without further
ceremony.




IV    ON ACQUIRING INFLUENCE


Now that you know about the parties and the Caucuses, your first
business will be to acquire influence. Political influence may be
acquired in exactly the same way as the gout: indeed, the two ends ought
to be pursued concurrently. The method is to sit tight and drink port
wine. You will thus gain the reputation of being a good fellow; and not
a few wild oats will be condoned in one who is sound at heart, if not at
the lower extremities.

Or, perhaps, you may prefer to qualify as a _Good Business Man_.

He is one whose mind has not been warped and narrowed by merely
intellectual interests, and who, at the same time, has not those odious
pushing qualities which are unhappily required for making a figure in
business anywhere else. He has had his finger on the pulse of the Great
World--a distant and rather terrifying region, which it is very
necessary to keep in touch with, though it must not be allowed on any
account to touch you. Difficult as it seems, this relation is
successfully maintained by sending young men to the Bar with Fellowships
of 200 a year and no duties. Life at the Bar, in these conditions, is
very pleasant; and only good business men are likely to return. All
business men are good; and it is understood they let who will be clever,
provided he be not clever at their expense.




V    THE PRINCIPLES OF GOVERNMENT, OF DISCIPLINE
(INCLUDING RELIGION), AND OF SOUND LEARNING


These principles are all deducible from the fundamental maxim, that the
first necessity for a body of men engaged in the pursuit of learning is
freedom from the burden of practical cares. It is impossible to enjoy
the contemplation of truth if one is vexed and distracted by the sense
of responsibility. Hence the wisdom of our ancestors devised a form of
academic polity in which this sense is, so far as human imperfection
will allow, reduced to the lowest degree. By vesting the sovereign
authority in the Non-placets (technically known as the 'Senate' on
account of the high average of their age), our forefathers secured that
the final decision should rest with a body which, being scattered in
country parsonages, has no corporate feeling whatever, and, being
necessarily ignorant of the decisive considerations in almost all the
business submitted to it, cannot have the sense of any responsibility,
except it be the highest, when the Church is in danger. In the smaller
bodies, called 'Boards,' we have succeeded only in minimising the
dangerous feeling, by the means of never allowing anyone to act without
first consulting at least twenty other people who are accustomed to
regard him with well-founded suspicion. Other democracies have reached
this pitch of excellence; but the academic democracy is superior in
having no organised parties. We thus avoid all the responsibilities of
party leadership (there are leaders, but no one follows them), and the
degradations of party compromise. It is clear, moreover, that twenty
independent persons, each of whom has a different reason for not doing a
certain thing, and no one of whom will compromise with any other,
constitute a most effective check upon the rashness of individuals.

I forgot to mention that there is also a body called the 'Council,'
which consists of men who are firmly convinced that they are
business-like. There is no doubt that some of them are Good Business
Men.

The principle of Discipline (including Religion) is that '_there must be
some rules_.' If you inquire the reason, you will find that the object
of rules is to relieve the younger men of the burdensome feeling of
moral or religious obligation. If their energies are to be left
unimpaired for the pursuit of athletics, it is clearly necessary to
protect them against the weakness of their own characters. They must
never be troubled with having to think whether this or that ought to be
done or not: it should be settled by rules. The most valuable rules are
those which ordain attendance at lectures and at religious worship. If
these were not enforced, young men would begin too early to take
learning and religion seriously; and that is well known to be bad form.
Plainly, the more rules you can invent, the less need there will be to
waste time over fruitless puzzling about right and wrong. The best sort
of rules are those which prohibit important, but perfectly innocent,
actions, such as smoking in College Courts, or walking to Madingley on
Sunday without academical dress. The merit of such regulations is that,
having nothing to do with right or wrong, they help to obscure these
troublesome considerations in other cases, and to relieve the mind of
all sense of obligation towards society.

The Roman sword would never have conquered the world if the grand fabric
of Roman Law had not been elaborated to save the man behind the sword
from having to think for himself. In the same way the British Empire is
the outcome of College and School discipline and of the Church
Catechism.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Principle of Sound Learning is that the noise of vulgar fame should
never trouble the cloistered calm of academic existence. Hence, learning
is called sound when no one has ever heard of it; and 'sound scholar' is
a term of praise applied to one another by learned men who have no
reputation outside the University, and a rather queer one inside it. If
you should write a book (you had better not), be sure that it is
unreadable; otherwise you will be called 'brilliant' and forfeit all
respect. University printing presses exist, and are subsidised by
Government, for the purpose of producing books which no one can read;
and they are true to their high calling. Books are the sources of
material for lectures. They should be kept from the young; for to read
books and remember what you read, well enough to reproduce it, is called
'cramming,' and this is destructive of all true education. The best way
to protect the young from books is, first, to make sure that they shall
be so dry as to offer no temptation; and, second, to store them in such
a way that no one can find them without several years' training. A
lecturer is a sound scholar, who is chosen to teach on the ground that
he was once able to learn. Eloquence is not permissible in a lecture; it
is a privilege reserved by statute for the Public Orator.




VI    THE POLITICAL MOTIVE


You will begin, I suppose, by thinking that people who disagree with you
and oppress you must be dishonest. Cynicism is the besetting and venial
fault of declining youth, and disillusionment its last illusion. It is
quite a mistake to suppose that real dishonesty is at all common. The
number of rogues is about equal to the number of men who always act
honestly; and it is very small. The great majority would sooner behave
honestly than not. The reason why they do not give way to this natural
preference of humanity is that they are afraid that others will not; and
the others do not because they are afraid that _they_ will not. Thus it
comes about that, while behaviour which looks dishonest is fairly
common, sincere dishonesty is about as rare as the courage to evoke
good faith in your neighbours by shewing that you trust them.

No; the Political Motive in the academic breast is honest enough. It
is _Fear_--genuine, perpetual, heart-felt, timorousness. We shall
see presently that all the Political Arguments are addressed to
this passion. Have you ever noticed how people say, 'I'm _afraid_ I don't
. . .' when they mean, 'I _think_ I don't . . .'?


The proper objects of Fear, hereafter to be called _Bugbears_, are (in
order of importance):


    Giving yourself away;
    Females;
    What Dr. ---- will say;
    The Public Washing of Linen;
    Socialism, otherwise Atheism;
    The Great World;
        etc. etc. etc.


With the disclosure of this central mystery of academic politics, the
theoretical part of our treatise is complete. The practical principles,
to which we now turn, can nearly all be deduced from the nature of the
political passion and of its objects.




The Practice of Politics may be divided under three heads: _Argument_;
_The Conduct of Business_; _Squaring_.


VII    ARGUMENT


There is only one argument for doing something; the rest are arguments
for doing nothing.

The argument for doing something is that it is the right thing to do.
But then, of course, comes the difficulty of making sure that it is
right. Females act by mere instinctive intuition; but men have the gift
of reflection. As Hamlet, the typical man of action, says:


                         'What is a man,
    If his chief good and market of his time
    Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
    Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,
    Looking before and after, gave us not
    That capability and god-like reason
    To fust in us unused.'


Now the academic person is to Hamlet as Hamlet is to a female; or, to
use his own quaint phrase, a 'beast'; his discourse is many times
larger, and he looks before and after many times as far. Even a little
knowledge of ethical theory will suffice to convince you that all
important questions are so complicated, and the results of any course of
action are so difficult to foresee, that certainty, or even probability,
is seldom, if ever, attainable. It follows at once that the only
justifiable attitude of mind is suspense of judgment; and this attitude,
besides being peculiarly congenial to the academic temperament, has the
advantage of being comparatively easy to attain. There remains the duty
of persuading others to be equally judicious, and to refrain from
plunging into reckless courses which might lead them Heaven knows
whither. At this point the arguments for doing nothing come in; for it
is a mere theorist's paradox that doing nothing has just as many
consequences as doing something. It is obvious that inaction can have no
consequences at all.


Since the stone-axe fell into disuse at the close of the neolithic age,
two other arguments of universal application have been added to the
rhetorical armoury by the ingenuity of mankind. They are closely akin;
and, like the stone-axe, they are addressed to the Political Motive.
They are called the _Wedge_ and the _Dangerous Precedent_. Though they
are very familiar, the principles, or rules of inaction, involved in
them are seldom stated in full. They are as follows.


The _Principle of the Wedge_ is that you should not act justly now for
fear of raising expectations that you may act still more justly in the
future--expectations which you are afraid you will not have the courage
to satisfy. A little reflection will make it evident that the Wedge
argument implies the admission that the persons who use it cannot prove
that the action is not just. If they could, that would be the sole and
sufficient reason for not doing it, and this argument would be
superfluous.


The _Principle of the Dangerous Precedent_ is that you should not now do
an admittedly right action for fear you, or your equally timid
successors, should not have the courage to do right in some future case,
which, _ex hypothesi_, is essentially different, but superficially
resembles the present one. Every public action, which is not customary,
either is wrong, or, if it is right, is a dangerous precedent. It
follows that nothing should ever be done for the first time.


It will be seen that both the Political Arguments are addressed to the
Bugbear of _Giving yourself away_. Other special arguments can be
framed in view of the other Bugbears. It will often be sufficient to
argue that a change is a change--an irrefutable truth. If this
consideration is not decisive, it may be reinforced by the Fair Trial
Argument--'_Give the present system a Fair Trial_.' This is especially
useful in withstanding changes in the schedule of an examination. In
this connection the exact meaning of the phrase is, 'I don't intend to
alter my lectures if I can help it; and, if you pass this proposal, you
will have to alter yours.' This paraphrase explains what might otherwise
be obscure: namely, the reason why a Fair Trial ought only to be given
to systems which already exist, not to proposed alternatives.

Another argument is that '_the Time is not Ripe_.' The Principle of
Unripe Time is that people should not do at the present moment what they
think right at that moment, because the moment at which they think it
right has not yet arrived. But the unripeness of the time will, in some
cases, be found to lie in the Bugbear, 'What Dr. ---- will say.' Time, by
the way, is like the medlar: it has a trick of going rotten before it is
ripe.




VIII    THE CONDUCT OF BUSINESS


This naturally divides into two branches: (1) _Conservative Liberal
Obstruction_, and (2) _Liberal Conservative Obstruction_.

The former is by much the more effective; and it should always be
preferred to mere unreasonable opposition, because it will bring you the
reputation of being more advanced than any so-called reformer.

The following are the main types of argument suitable for the
_Conservative Liberal_.

'_The present measure would block the way for a far more sweeping
reform._' The reform in question ought always to be one which was
favoured by a few extremists in 1881, and which is by this time quite
impracticable, and not even desired by any one. This argument may safely
be combined with the Wedge argument: 'If we grant this, it will be
impossible to stop short.' It is a singular fact that all measures are
always opposed on both of these grounds. The apparent discrepancy is
happily reconciled when it comes to voting.


Another argument is that '_the machinery for effecting the proposed
objects already exists_.' This should be urged in cases where the
existing machinery has never worked, and is now so rusty that there is
no chance of its being set in motion. When this is ascertained, it is
safe to add that '_it is far better that all reform should come from
within_'; and to throw in a reference to the _Principle of Washing
Linen_. This principle is that it is better never to wash your linen if
you cannot do it without anyone knowing that you are so cleanly.


The third accepted means of obstruction is the _Alternative Proposal_.
This is a form of Red Herring. As soon as three or more alternatives
are in the field, there is pretty sure to be a majority against any one
of them, and nothing will be done.


The method of _Prevarication_ is based upon a very characteristic trait
of the academic mind, which comes out in the common remark, 'I was in
favour of the proposal until I heard Mr. ----'s arguments in support of
it.' The principle is, that a few bad reasons for doing something
neutralise all the good reasons for doing it. Since this is devoutly
believed, it is often the best policy to argue weakly against the side
you favour. If your personal enemies are present in force, throw in a
little bear-baiting, and you are certain of success. You can vote in the
minority, and no one will be the wiser.


_Liberal Conservative Obstruction_ is less argumentative and leans to
invective. It is particularly fond of the Last Ditch and the Wild Cat.


The _Last Ditch_ is the Safe Side (see p. 7), considered as a
place which you may safely threaten to die in. You are not likely to die
there prematurely; for, to judge by the look of the inhabitants, the
climate of the Safe Side conduces to longevity. If you did die, nobody
would much mind; but the threat may frighten them for the moment.


'_Wild Cat_' is an epithet applicable to persons who bring forward a
scheme unanimously agreed upon by experts after a two years' exhaustive
consideration of thirty-five or more alternative proposals. In its wider
use it applies to all ideas which were not familiar in 1881.

There is an oracle of Merlin which says, 'When the wild cat is belled,
the mice will vote _Placet_.'


The Argument, '_that you remember exactly the same proposal being
rejected in_ 1867,' is a very strong one in itself; but its defect is
that it appeals only to those who also remember the year 1867 with
affectionate interest, and, moreover, are unaware that any change has
occurred since then. There are such people, but they are lamentably few;
and some even of them are no longer Young Men in a Hurry, and can be
trusted to be on the Safe Side in any case. So this argument seldom
carries its proper weight.


When other methods of obstruction fail, you should have recourse to
_Wasting Time_; for, although it is recognised in academic circles that
time in general is of no value, considerable importance is attached to
tea-time, and by deferring this, you may exasperate any body of men to
the point of voting against anything. The simplest method is _Boring_.
Talk slowly and indistinctly, at a little distance from the point. No
academic person is ever voted into the chair until he has reached an
age at which he has forgotten the meaning of the word 'irrelevant'; and
you will be allowed to go on, until everyone in the room will vote with
you sooner than hear your voice another minute. Then you should move for
adjournment. Motions for adjournment, made less than fifteen minutes
before tea-time or at any subsequent moment, are always carried. While
you are engaged in Boring it does not much matter what you talk about;
but, if possible, you should discourse upon the proper way of doing
something which you are notorious for doing badly yourself. Thus, if you
are an inefficient lecturer, you should lay down the law on how to
lecture; if you are a good business man, you should discuss the
principles of finance; and so on.


If you have applied yourself in youth to the cultivation of the _Private
Business habit of mind_ at the Union and other debating societies,
questions of procedure will furnish you with many resources for wasting
time. You will eagerly debate whether it is allowable or not to amend an
amendment; or whether it is consonant with the eternal laws for a body
of men, who have all changed their minds, to rescind a resolution which
they have just carried. You will rise, like a fish, to points of order,
and call your intimate friends 'honourable' to their faces. You will
make six words do duty for one; address a harmless individual as if he
were a roomful of abnormally stupid reporters; and fill up the time till
you can think of something to say by talking, instead of by holding your
tongue.


An appeal should be made, wherever it is possible, to _College Feeling_.
This, like other species of patriotism, consists in a sincere belief
that the institution to which you belong is better than an institution
to which other people belong. The corresponding belief ought to be
encouraged in others by frequent confession of this article of faith in
their presence. In this way a healthy spirit of rivalry will be
promoted. It is this feeling which makes the College System so valuable;
and differentiates, more than anything else, a College from a
boarding-house; for in a boarding-house hatred is concentrated, not upon
rival establishments, but upon the other members of the same
establishment.


Should you have a taste for winter sports, you may amuse yourself with a
little _Bear-baiting_ or _Bull-fighting_. Bulls are easier to draw than
bears; you need only get to know the right red rag for a given bull, and
for many of them almost any rag will serve the turn. Bears are more
sulky and have to be prodded; on the other hand they don't go blind,
like bulls; and when they have bitten your head off, they will often
come round and be quite nice. Irishmen can be bulls, but not bears;
Scotsmen can be bears, but not bulls; an Englishman may be either.


Another sport which wastes unlimited time is _Comma-hunting_. Once start
a comma and the whole pack will be off, full cry, especially if they
have had a literary training. (Adullamites affect to despise commas, and
even their respect for syntax is often not above suspicion.) But
comma-hunting is so exciting as to be a little dangerous. When attention
is entirely concentrated on punctuation, there is some fear that the
conduct of business may suffer, and a proposal get through without being
properly obstructed on its demerits. It is therefore wise, when a kill
has been made, to move at once for adjournment.




IX    SQUARING


This most important branch of political activity is, of course, closely
connected with _Jobs_. These fall into two classes, My Jobs and Your
Jobs. My Jobs are public-spirited proposals, which happen (much to my
regret) to involve the advancement of a personal friend, or (still more
to my regret) of myself. Your Jobs are insidious intrigues for the
advancement of yourself and your friends, speciously disguised as
public-spirited proposals. The term Job is more commonly applied to the
second class. When you and I have, each of us, a Job on hand, we shall
proceed to go on the Square.

Squaring can be carried on at lunch; but it is better that we should
meet casually. The proper course to pursue is to take a walk, between 2
and 4 p.m., up and down the King's Parade, and more particularly that
part of it which lies between the Colleges of Pembroke and Caius. When
we have thus succeeded in meeting accidentally, it is etiquette to talk
about indifferent matters for ten minutes and then part. After walking
five paces in the opposite direction you should call me back, and begin
with the words, 'Oh, by the way, if you should happen . . .' The nature
of Your Job must then be vaguely indicated, without mentioning names;
and it should be treated by both parties as a matter of very small
importance. You should hint that I am a very influential person, and
that the whole thing is a secret between us. Then we shall part as
before, and I shall call you back and introduce the subject of My Job,
in the same formula. By observing this procedure we shall emphasise the
fact that there is _no connection whatever_ between my supporting your
Job and your supporting mine. This absence of connection is the
essential feature of Squaring.


Remember this: _the men who get things done are the men who walk up and
down the King's Parade, from 2 to 4, every day of their lives_. You can
either join them, and become a powerful person; or you can join the
great throng of those who spend all their time in preventing them from
getting things done, and in the larger task of preventing one another
from doing anything whatever. This is the Choice of Hercules, when
Hercules takes to politics.

       *       *       *       *       *




X    FAREWELL


O young academic politician, my heart is full of pity for you, because
you will not believe a word that I have said. You will mistake sincerity
for cynicism, and half the truth for exaggeration. You will think the
other half of the truth, which I have not told, is the whole. You will
take your own way, make yourself dreadfully disagreeable, tread on
innumerable toes, butt your head against stone walls, neglect prejudice
and fear, appeal to reason instead of appealing to bugbears. Your bread
shall be bitterness, and your drink tears.

I have done what I could to warn you. When you become middle-aged--on
your five-and-thirtieth birthday--glance through this book and judge
between me and your present self.

If you decide that I was wrong, put the book in the fire, betake
yourself to the King's Parade, and good-bye. I have done with you.

But if you find that I was right, remember that other world, within the
microcosm, the silent, reasonable world, where the only action is
thought, and thought is free from fear. If you go back to it now,
keeping just enough bitterness to put a pleasant edge on your
conversation and just enough worldly wisdom to save other people's toes,
you will find yourself in the best of all company--the company of clean,
humorous, intellect; and if you have a spark of imagination, and try
very hard to remember what it was like to be young, there is no reason
why your brains should ever get woolly, or anyone should wish you out of
the way. Farewell!


                                EXPLICIT



TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

Minor variations in spelling and punctuation have been preserved.




[End of Microcosmographia Academica, by F. M. Cornford]
