orthodoxy-第27部分

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towards　any　particular　arrangement　of　many　qualities。　　To　take



our　original　simile：　　Nature　by　herself　may　be　growing　more　blue；



that　is；　a　process　so　simple　that　it　might　be　impersonal。　　But　Nature



cannot　be　making　a　careful　picture　made　of　many　picked　colours；



unless　Nature　is　personal。　　If　the　end　of　the　world　were　mere



darkness　or　mere　light　it　might　come　as　slowly　and　inevitably



as　dusk　or　dawn。　　But　if　the　end　of　the　world　is　to　be　a　piece



of　elaborate　and　artistic　chiaroscuro；　then　there　must　be　design



in　it；　either　human　or　divine。　　The　world；　through　mere　time；



might　grow　black　like　an　old　picture；　or　white　like　an　old　coat；



but　if　it　is　turned　into　a　particular　piece　of　black　and　white　art



then　there　is　an　artist。







　　　　　If　the　distinction　be　not　evident；　I　give　an　ordinary　instance。　　We



constantly　hear　a　particularly　cosmic　creed　from　the　modern　humanitarians；







I　use　the　word　humanitarian　in　the　ordinary　sense；　as　meaning　one



who　upholds　the　claims　of　all　creatures　against　those　of　humanity。　



They　suggest　that　through　the　ages　we　have　been　growing　more　and



more　humane；　that　is　to　say；　that　one　after　another；　groups　or



sections　of　beings；　slaves；　children；　women；　cows；　or　what　not；



have　been　gradually　admitted　to　mercy　or　to　justice。　　They　say



that　we　once　thought　it　right　to　eat　men　（we　didn't）；　but　I　am　not



here　concerned　with　their　history；　which　is　highly　unhistorical。　



As　a　fact；　anthropophagy　is　certainly　a　decadent　thing；　not　a



primitive　one。　　It　is　much　more　likely　that　modern　men　will　eat



human　flesh　out　of　affectation　than　that　primitive　man　ever　ate



it　out　of　ignorance。　　I　am　here　only　following　the　outlines　of



their　argument；　which　consists　in　maintaining　that　man　has　been



progressively　more　lenient；　first　to　citizens；　then　to　slaves；



then　to　animals；　and　then　（presumably）　to　plants。　　I　think　it　wrong



to　sit　on　a　man。　　Soon；　I　shall　think　it　wrong　to　sit　on　a　horse。　



Eventually　（I　suppose）　I　shall　think　it　wrong　to　sit　on　a　chair。　



That　is　the　drive　of　the　argument。　　And　for　this　argument　it　can



be　said　that　it　is　possible　to　talk　of　it　in　terms　of　evolution　or



inevitable　progress。　　A　perpetual　tendency　to　touch　fewer　and　fewer



things　mightone　feels；　be　a　mere　brute　unconscious　tendency；



like　that　of　a　species　to　produce　fewer　and　fewer　children。　



This　drift　may　be　really　evolutionary；　because　it　is　stupid。







　　　　　Darwinism　can　be　used　to　back　up　two　mad　moralities；



but　it　cannot　be　used　to　back　up　a　single　sane　one。　　The　kinship



and　competition　of　all　living　creatures　can　be　used　as　a　reason　for



being　insanely　cruel　or　insanely　sentimental；　but　not　for　a　healthy



love　of　animals。　　On　the　evolutionary　basis　you　may　be　inhumane；



or　you　may　be　absurdly　humane；　but　you　cannot　be　human。　　That　you



and　a　tiger　are　one　may　be　a　reason　for　being　tender　to　a　tiger。　



Or　it　may　be　a　reason　for　being　as　cruel　as　the　tiger。　　It　is　one　way



to　train　the　tiger　to　imitate　you；　it　is　a　shorter　way　to　imitate



the　tiger。　　But　in　neither　case　does　evolution　tell　you　how　to　treat



a　tiger　reasonably；　that　is；　to　admire　his　stripes　while　avoiding



his　claws。







　　　　　If　you　want　to　treat　a　tiger　reasonably；　you　must　go　back　to



the　garden　of　Eden。　　For　the　obstinate　reminder　continued　to　recur：　



only　the　supernatural　has　taken　a　sane　view　of　Nature。　　The　essence



of　all　pantheism；　evolutionism；　and　modern　cosmic　religion　is　really



in　this　proposition：　　that　Nature　is　our　mother。　　Unfortunately；　if　you



regard　Nature　as　a　mother；　you　discover　that　she　is　a　step…mother。　The



main　point　of　Christianity　was　this：　　that　Nature　is　not　our　mother：　



Nature　is　our　sister。　　We　can　be　proud　of　her　beauty；　since　we　have



the　same　father；　but　she　has　no　authority　over　us；　we　have　to　admire；



but　not　to　imitate。　　This　gives　to　the　typically　Christian　pleasure



in　this　earth　a　strange　touch　of　lightness　that　is　almost　frivolity。　



Nature　was　a　solemn　mother　to　the　worshippers　of　Isis　and　Cybele。　



Nature　was　a　solemn　mother　to　Wordsworth　or　to　Emerson。　



But　Nature　is　not　solemn　to　Francis　of　Assisi　or　to　George　Herbert。　



To　St。　Francis；　Nature　is　a　sister；　and　even　a　younger　sister：　



a　little；　dancing　sister；　to　be　laughed　at　as　well　as　loved。







　　　　　This；　however；　is　hardly　our　main　point　at　present；　I　have　admitted



it　only　in　order　to　show　how　constantly；　and　as　it　were　accidentally；



the　key　would　fit　the　smallest　doors。　　Our　main　point　is　here；



that　if　there　be　a　mere　trend　of　impersonal　improvement　in　Nature；



it　must　presumably　be　a　simple　trend　towards　some　simple　triumph。　



One　can　imagine　that　some　automatic　tendency　in　biology　might　work



for　giving　us　longer　and　longer　noses。　　But　the　question　is；



do　we　want　to　have　longer　and　longer　noses？　　I　fancy　not；



I　believe　that　we　most　of　us　want　to　say　to　our　noses；　〃thus　far；



and　no　farther；　and　here　shall　thy　proud　point　be　stayed：〃　



we　require　a　nose　of　such　length　as　may　ensure　an　interesting　face。　



But　we　cannot　imagine　a　mere　biological　trend　towards　producing



interesting　faces；　because　an　interesting　face　is　one　particular



arrangement　of　eyes；　nose；　and　mouth；　in　a　most　complex　relation



to　each　other。　　Proportion　cannot　be　a　drift：　　it　is　either



an　accident　or　a　design。　　So　with　the　ideal　of　human　morality



and　its　relation　to　the　humanitarians　and　the　anti…humanitarians。



It　is　conceivable　that　we　are　going　more　and　more　to　keep　our　hands



off　things：　　not　to　drive　horses；　not　to　pick　flowers。　　We　may



eventually　be　bound　not　to　disturb　a　man's　mind　even　by　argument；



not　to　disturb　the　sleep　of　birds　even　by　coughing。　　The　ultimate



apotheosis　would　appear　to　be　that　of　a　man　sitting　quite　still；



nor　daring　to　stir　for　fear　of　disturbing　a　fly；　nor　to　eat　for　fear



of　incommoding　a　microbe。　　To　so　crude　a　consummation　as　that　we



might　perhaps　unconsciously　drift。　　But　do　we　want　so　crude



a　consummation？　　Similarly；　we　might　unconsciously　evolve　along



the　opposite　or　Nietzschian　line　of　developmentsuperman　crushing



superman　in　one　tower　of　tyrants　until　the　universe　is　smashed



up　for　fun。　　But　do　we　want　the　universe　smashed　up　for　fun？　



Is　it　not　quite　clear　that　what　we　really　hope　for　is　one　particular



management　and　proposition　of　these　two　things；　a　certain　amount



of　restraint　and　respect；　a　certain　amount　of　energy　and　mastery？　



If　our　life　is　ever　really　as　beautiful　as　a　fairy…tale；　we　shall



have　to　remember　that　all　the　beauty　of　a　fairy…tale　lies　in　this：　



that　the　prince　has　a　wonder　which　just　stops　short　of　being　fear。　



If　he　is　afraid　of　the　giant；　there　is　an　end　of　him；　but　also　if　he



is　not　astonished　at　the　giant；　there　is　an　end　of　the　fairy…tale。　The



whole　point　depends　upon　his　being　at　once　humble　enough　to　wonder；



and　haughty　enough　to　defy。　　So　our　attitude　to　the　giant　of　the　world



must　not　merely　be　increasing　delicacy　or　increasing　contempt：　



it　must　be　one　particular　proportion　of　the　twowhich　is　exactly　right。　



We　must　have　in　us　enough　reverence　for　all　things　outside　us



to　make　us　tread　fearfully　on　the　grass。　　We　must　also　have　enough



disdain　for　all　things　outside　us；　to　make　us；　on　due　occasion；



spit　at　the　stars。　　Yet　these　two　things　（if　we　are　to　be　good



or　happy）　must　be　combined；　not　in　any　combination；　but　in　one



particular　combination。　　The　perfect　happiness　of　men　on　the　earth



（if　it　ever　comes）　will　not　be　a　flat　and　solid　thing；　like　the



satisfaction　of　animals。　　It　will　be　an　exact　and　perilous　balance；



like　that　of　a　desperate　romance。　　Man　must　have　just　enough　faith



in　himself　to　have　adventures；　and　just　enough　doubt　of　himself　to



enjoy　them。







　　　　　This；　then；　is　our　second　requirement　for　the　ideal　of　progress。　



First；　it　must　be　fixed；　second；　it　must　be　composite。　　It　must　not



（if　it　is　to　satisfy　our　souls）　be　the　mere　victory　of　some　one　thing



swallowing　up　everything　else；　love　or　pride　or　peace　or　adventure；



it　must　be　a　definite　picture　composed　of　these　elements　in　their　best



proportion　and　relation。　　I　am　not　concerned　at　this　moment　to　deny



that　some　such　good　culmination　may　be；　by　the　constitution　of　things；



reserved　for　the　human　race。　　I　only　point　out　that　if　this　composite



happiness　is　fixed　for　us　it　must　be　fixed　by　some　mind；　for　only



a　mind　can　place　the　exact　proportions　of　a　composite　happiness。　



If　the　beatification　of　the　world　is　a　mere　work　of　nature；　then　it



must　be　as　simple　as　the　freezing　of　the　world；　or　the　burning



up　of　the　world。　　But　if　the　beatification　of　the　world　is　not



a　work　of　nature　but　a　work　of　art；　then　it　involves　an　artist。　



And　here　again　my　contemplation　was　cloven　by　the　ancient　voice



which　said；　〃I　could　have　told　you　all　this　a　long　time　ago。　



If　there　is　any　certain　progress　it　can　only　be　my　kind　of　progress；



the　progress　towards　a　complete　city　of　virtues　and　dominations



where　righteousness　and　peace　contrive　to　kiss　each　other。　



An　impersonal　force　might　be　leading　you　to　a　wilderness　of　perfect



flatness　or　a　peak　of　perfect　height。　　But　only　a　personal　God　can



possibly　be　leading　you　（if；　indeed；　you　are　being　led）　to　a　city



with　just　streets　and　architectural　proportions；　a　city　in　which　each



of　you　can　contribute　exactly　the　right　amount　of　your　own　colour



to　the　many　coloured　coat　of　Joseph。〃







　　　　　Twice　again；　therefore；　Christianity　had　come　in　with　the　exact



answer　that　I　requir