In reading them we do not feel the presence of a clean-cut
personality like that of Thackeray and Matthew Arnold.
We only read a number of quite clever and largely conflicting opinions
which might be uttered by any clever person, but which we are called
upon to admire specifically, because they are uttered by Mr. Moore.
He is the only thread that connects Catholicism and Protestantism,
realism and mysticism--he or rather his name. He is profoundly
absorbed even in views he no longer holds, and he expects us to be.
And he intrudes the capital "I" even where it need not be intruded--
even where it weakens the force of a plain statement.
Where another man would say, "It is a fine day," Mr. Moore says,
"Seen through my temperament, the day appeared fine."
Where another man would say "Milton has obviously a fine style,"
Mr. Moore would say, "As a stylist Milton had always impressed me."
The Nemesis of this self-centred spirit is that of being
totally ineffectual. Mr. Moore has started many interesting crusades,
but he has abandoned them before his disciples could begin.
Even when he is on the side of the truth he is as fickle as the children
of falsehood. Even when he has found reality he cannot find rest.
One Irish quality he has which no Irishman was ever without--pugnacity;
and that is certainly a great virtue, especially in the present age.
But he has not the tenacity of conviction which goes with the fighting
spirit in a man like Bernard Shaw. His weakness of introspection
and selfishness in all their glory cannot prevent him fighting;
but they will always prevent him winning.



X. On Sandals and Simplicity