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untroubled convictions. From that day forth a widening breach can

be traced between his egotistical passions and the social need.

Slowly he adapted himself to the life of the homestead, and his

passionate impulses widened out to the demands of the clan and

the tribe. But widen though his impulses might, the latent hunter

and wanderer and wonderer in his imagination outstripped their

development. He was never quite subdued to the soil nor quite

tamed to the home. Everywhere it needed teaching and the priest

to keep him within the bounds of the plough-life and the

beast-tending. Slowly a vast system of traditional imperatives

superposed itself upon his instincts, imperatives that were

admirably fitted to make him that cultivator, that cattle-mincer,

who was for twice ten thousand years the normal man.

And, unpremeditated, undesired, out of the accumulations of his

tilling came civilisation. Civilisation was the agricultural

surplus. It appeared as trade and tracks and roads, it pushed

boats out upon the rivers and presently invaded the seas, and

within its primitive courts, within temples grown rich and

leisurely and amidst the gathering medley of the seaport towns

rose speculation and philosophy and science, and the beginning of

the new order that has at last established itself as human life.

Slowly at first, as we traced it, and then with an accumulating

velocity, the new powers were fabricated. Man as a whole did not

seek them nor desire them; they were thrust into his hand. For a

time men took up and used these new things and the new powers

inadvertently as they came to him, recking nothing of the

consequences. For endless generations change led him very

gently. But when he had been led far enough, change quickened the

pace. It was with a series of shocks that he realised at last

that he was living the old life less and less and a new life more

and more.

Already before the release of atomic energy the tensions between

the old way of living and the new were intense. They were far

intenser than they had been even at the collapse of the Roman

imperial system. On the one hand was the ancient life of the

family and the small community and the petty industry, on the

other was a new life on a larger scale, with remoter horizons and

a strange sense of purpose. Already it was growing clear that men

must live on one side or the other. One could not have little

tradespeople and syndicated businesses in the same market,

sleeping carters and motor trolleys on the same road, bows and

arrows and aeroplane sharpshooters in the same army, or

illiterate peasant industries and power-driven factories in the

same world. And still less it was possible that one could have

the ideas and ambitions and greed and jealousy of peasants

equipped with the vast appliances of the new age. If there had

been no atomic bombs to bring together most of the directing

intelligence of the world to that hasty conference at Brissago,

there would still have been, extended over great areas and a

considerable space of time perhaps, a less formal conference of

responsible and understanding people upon the perplexities of

this world-wide opposition. If the work of Holsten had been

spread over centuries and imparted to the world by imperceptible

degrees, it would nevertheless have made it necessary for men to

take counsel upon and set a plan for the future. Indeed already

there had been accumulating for a hundred years before the crisis

a literature of foresight; there was a whole mass of 'Modern

State' scheming available for the conference to go upon. These

bombs did but accentuate and dramatise an already developing

problem.

Section 2

This assembly was no leap of exceptional minds and

super-intelligences into the control of affairs. It was

teachable, its members trailed ideas with them to the gathering,

but these were the consequences of the 'moral shock' the bombs

had given humanity, and there is no reason for supposing its

individual personalities were greatly above the average. It

would be possible to cite a thousand instances of error and

inefficiency in its proceedings due to the forgetfulness,

irritability, or fatigue of its members. It experimented

considerably and blundered often. Excepting Holsten, whose gift

was highly specialised, it is questionable whether there was a

single man of the first order of human quality in the gathering.

But it had a modest fear of itself, and a consequent directness

that gave it a general distinction. There was, of course, a

noble simplicity about Leblanc, but even of him it may be asked

whether he was not rather good and honest-minded than in the

fuller sense great.

The ex-king had wisdom and a certain romantic dash, he was a man

among thousands, even if he was not a man among millions, but his

memoirs, and indeed his decision to write memoirs, give the

quality of himself and his associates. The book makes admirable

but astonishing reading. Therein he takes the great work the

council was doing for granted as a little child takes God. It is

as if he had no sense of it at all. He tells amusing trivialities

about his cousin Wilhelm and his secretary Firmin, he pokes fun

at the American president, who was, indeed, rather a little

accident of the political machine than a representative American,

and he gives a long description of how he was lost for three days

in the mountains in the company of the only Japanese member, a

loss that seems to have caused no serious interruption of the

work of the council…

The Brissago conference has been written about time after time,

as though it were a gathering of the very flower of humanity.

Perched up there by the freak or wisdom of Leblanc, it had a

certain Olympian quality, and the natural tendency of the human

mind to elaborate such a resemblance would have us give its