a miscellany of men-第8部分

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　him。　　She　got　a　promise　from　her　husband　that　he　would　never　shoot　another　pheasant。　　Whether　he　kept　it　I　doubt；　I　fancy　he　sometimes　shot　a　pheasant　even　after　that。　　But　I　am　sure　he　never　shot　a　policeman。　　For　we　live　in　an　enchanted　land。



THE　SUN　WORSHIPPER


There　is　a　shrewd　warning　to　be　given　to　all　people　who　are　in　revolt。　And　in　the　present　state　of　things；　I　think　all　men　are　revolting　in　that　sense；　except　a　few　who　are　revolting　in　the　other　sense。　But　the　warning　to　Socialists　and　other　revolutionaries　is　this：　that　as　sure　as　fate；　if　they　use　any　argument　which　is　atheist　or　materialistic；　that　argument　will　always　be　turned　against　them　at　last　by　the　tyrant　and　the　slave。　To…day　I　saw　one　too　common　Socialist　argument　turned　Tory；　so　to　speak；　in　a　manner　quite　startling　and　insane。　　I　mean　that　modern　doctrine；　taught；　I　believe；　by　most　followers　of　Karl　Marx；　which　is　called　the　materialist　theory　of　history。　　The　theory　is；　roughly；　this：　that　all　the　important　things　in　history　are　rooted　in　an　economic　motive。　　In　short；　history　is　a　science；　a　science　of　the　search　for　food。

Now　I　desire；　in　passing　only；　to　point　out　that　this　is　not　merely　untrue；　but　actually　the　reverse　of　the　truth。　　It　is　putting　it　too　feebly　to　say　that　the　history　of　man　is　not　only　economic。　　Man　would　not　have　any　history　if　he　were　only　economic。　　The　need　for　food　is　certainly　universal；　so　universal　that　it　is　not　even　human。　　Cows　have　an　economic　motive；　and　apparently　（I　dare　not　say　what　ethereal　delicacies　may　be　in　a　cow）　only　an　economic　motive。　　The　cow　eats　grass　anywhere　and　never　eats　anything　else。　　In　short；　the　cow　does　fulfil　the　materialist　theory　of　history：　that　is　why　the　cow　has　no　history。　　〃A　History　of　Cows〃　would　be　one　of　the　simplest　and　briefest　of　standard　works。　　But　if　some　cows　thought　it　wicked　to　eat　long　grass　and　persecuted　all　who　did　so；　if　the　cow　with　the　crumpled　horn　were　worshipped　by　some　cows　and　gored　to　death　by　others；　if　cows　began　to　have　obvious　moral　preferences　over　and　above　a　desire　for　grass；　then　cows　would　begin　to　have　a　history。　　They　would　also　begin　to　have　a　highly　unpleasant　time；　which　is　perhaps　the　same　thing。

The　economic　motive　is　not　merely　not　inside　all　history；　it　is　actually　outside　all　history。　　It　belongs　to　Biology　or　the　Science　of　Life；　that　is；　it　concerns　things　like　cows；　that　are　not　so　very　much　alive。　　Men　are　far　too　much　alive　to　get　into　the　science　of　anything；　for　them　we　have　made　the　art　of　history。　　To　say　that　human　actions　have　depended　on　economic　support　is　like　saying　that　they　have　depended　on　having　two　legs。　　It　accounts　for　action；　but　not　for　such　varied　action；　it　is　a　condition；　but　not　a　motive；　it　is　too　universal　to　be　useful。　　Certainly　a　soldier　wins　the　Victoria　Cross　on　two　legs；　he　also　runs　away　on　two　legs。　　But　if　our　object　is　to　discover　whether　he　will　become　a　V。C。　　or　a　coward　the　most　careful　inspection　of　his　legs　will　yield　us　little　or　no　information。　　In　the　same　way　a　man　will　want　food　if　he　is　a　dreamy　romantic　tramp；　and　will　want　food　if　he　is　a　toiling　and　sweating　millionaire。　　A　man　must　be　supported　on　food　as　he　must　be　supported　on　legs。　　But　cows　（who　have　no　history）　are　not　only　furnished　more　generously　in　the　matter　of　legs；　but　can　see　their　food　on　a　much　grander　and　more　imaginative　scale。　　A　cow　can　lift　up　her　eyes　to　the　hills　and　see　uplands　and　peaks　of　pure　food。　　Yet　we　never　see　the　horizon　broken　by　crags　of　cake　or　happy　hills　of　cheese。

So　far　the　cow　（who　has　no　history）　seems　to　have　every　other　advantage。　But　historythe　whole　point　of　historyprecisely　is　that　some　two…　legged　soldiers　ran　away　while　others；　of　similar　anatomical　structure；　did　not。　　The　whole　point　of　history　precisely　is：　some　people　（like　poets　and　tramps）　chance　getting　money　by　disregarding　it；　while　others　（such　as　millionaires）　will　absolutely　lose　money　for　the　fun　of　bothering　about　it。　　There　would　be　no　history　if　there　were　only　economic　history。　　All　the　historical　events　have　been　due　to　the　twists　and　turns　given　to　the　economic　instinct　by　forces　that　were　not　economic。　For　instance；　this　theory　traces　the　French　war　of　Edward　III　to　a　quarrel　about　the　French　wines。　　Any　one　who　has　even　smelt　the　Middle　Ages　must　feel　fifty　answers　spring　to　his　lips；　but　in　this　cause　one　will　suffice。　　There　would　have　been　no　such　war；　then；　if　we　all　drank　water　like　cows。　　But　when　one　is　a　man　one　enters　the　world　of　historic　choice。　　The　act　of　drinking　wine　is　one　that　requires　explanation。　　So　is　the　act　of　not　drinking　wine。

But　the　capitalist　can　get　much　more　fun　out　of　the　doctrine。

When　strikes　were　splitting　England　right　and　left　a　little　while　ago；　an　ingenious　writer；　humorously　describing　himself　as　a　Liberal；　said　that　they　were　entirely　due　to　the　hot　weather。　　The　suggestion　was　eagerly　taken　up　by　other　creatures　of　the　same　kind；　and　I　really　do　not　see　why　it　was　not　carried　farther　and　applied　to　other　lamentable　uprisings　in　history。　　Thus；　it　is　a　remarkable　fact　that　the　weather　is　generally　rather　warm　in　Egypt；　and　this　cannot　but　throw　a　light　on　the　sudden　and　mysterious　impulse　of　the　Israelites　to　escape　from　captivity。　　The　English　strikers　used　some　barren　republican　formula　（arid　as　the　definitions　of　the　medieval　schoolmen）；　some　academic　shibboleth　about　being　free　men　and　not　being　forced　to　work　except　for　a　wage　accepted　by　them。　　Just　in　the　same　way　the　Israelites　in　Egypt　employed　some　dry　scholastic　quibble　about　the　extreme　difficulty　of　making　bricks　with　nothing　to　make　them　of。　　But　whatever　fantastic　intellectual　excuses　they　may　have　put　forward　for　their　strange　and　unnatural　conduct　in　walking　out　when　the　prison　door　was　open；　there　can　be　no　doubt　that　the　real　cause　was　the　warm　weather。　　Such　a　climate　notoriously　also　produces　delusions　and　horrible　fancies；　such　as　Mr。　Kipling　describes。　And　it　was　while　their　brains　were　disordered　by　the　heat　that　the　Jews　fancied　that　they　were　founding　a　nation；　that　they　were　led　by　a　prophet；　and；　in　short；　that　they　were　going　to　be　of　some　importance　in　the　affairs　of　the　world。

Nor　can　the　historical　student　fail　to　note　that　the　French　monarchy　was　pulled　down　in　August；　and　that　August　is　a　month　in　summer。

In　spite　of　all　this；　however；　I　have　some　little　difficulty　myself　in　accepting　so　simple　a　form　of　the　Materialist　Theory　of　History　（at　these　words　all　Marxian　Socialists　will　please　bow　their　heads　three　times）；　and　I　rather　think　that　exceptions　might　be　found　to　the　principle。　　Yet　it　is　not　chiefly　such　exceptions　that　embarrass　my　belief　in　it。

No；　my　difficulty　is　rather　in　accounting　for　the　strange　coincidence　by　which　the　shafts　of　Apollo　split　us　exclusively　along　certain　lines　of　class　and　of　economics。　　I　cannot　understand　why　all　solicitors　did　not　leave　off　soliciting；　all　doctors　leave　off　doctoring；　all　judges　leave　off　judging；　all　benevolent　bankers　leave　off　lending　money　at　high　interest；　and　all　rising　politicians　leave　off　having　nothing　to　add　to　what　their　right　honourable　friend　told　the　House　about　eight　years　ago。　The　quaint　theoretic　plea　of　the　workers；　that　they　were　striking　because　they　were　ill　paid；　seems　to　receive　a　sort　of　wild　and　hazy　confirmation　from　the　fact　that；　throughout　the　hottest　weather；　judges　and　other　persons　who　are　particularly　well　paid　showed　no　disposition　to　strike。　I　have　to　fall　back　therefore　on　metaphysical　fancies　of　my　own；　and　I　continue　to　believe　that　the　anger　of　the　English　poor　（to　steal　a　phrase　from　Sir　Thomas　Browne）　came　from　something　in　man　that　is　other　than　the　elements　and　that　owes　no　homage　unto　the　sun。

When　comfortable　people　come　to　talking　stuff　of　that　sort；　it　is　really　time　that　the　comfortable　classes　made　a　short　summary　and　confession　of　what　they　have　really　done　with　the　very　poor　Englishman。　　The　dawn　of　the　mediaeval　civilisation　found　him　a　serf；　which　is　a　different　thing　from　a　slave。　　He　had　security；　although　the　man　belonged　to　the　land　rather　than　the　land　to　the　man。　　He　could　not　be　evicted；　his　rent　could　not　be　raised。　　In　practice；　it　came　to　something　like　this：　that　if　the　lord　rode　down　his　cabbages　he　had　not　much　chance　of　redress；　but　he　had　the　chance　of　growing　more　cabbages。　　He　had　direct　access　to　the　means　of　production。

Since　then　the　centuries　in　England　have　achieved　something　different；　and　something　which；　fortunately；　is　perfectly　easy　to　state。　　There　is　no　doubt　about　what　we　have　done。　　We　have　kept　the　inequality；　but　we　have　destroyed　the　security。　　The　man　is　not　tied　to　the　land；　as　in　serfdom；　nor　is　the　land　tied　to　the　man；　as　in　a　peasantry。　　The　rich　man　has　entered　into　an　absolute　ownership　of　farms　and　fields；　and　（in　the　modern　industrial　phrase）　he　has　locked　out　the　English　people。　　They　can　only　find　an　acre　to　dig　or　a　house　to　sleep　in　by　accepting　such　competitive　and　cruel　terms　as　he　chooses　to　impose。

Well；　what　would　happen　then；　over　the　larger　parts　of　the　planet；　parts　inhabited　by　savages？　　Savages；　of　course；　would　hunt　and　fish。　　That　retreat　for　the　English　poor　was　perceived；　and　that　retreat　was　cut　off。　Game　laws　were　made　to　extend　over　districts　like　the　Arctic　snows　or　the　Sahara。　　The　rich　man　had　property　over　animals　he　had　no　more　dreamed　of　than　a　governor　of　Roman　Africa　had　dreamed　of　a　giraffe。　　He　owned　all　the　birds　that　passed　over　his　land：　he　might　as　well　have　owned　all　the　clouds　that　passed　over　it。　　If　a　rabbit　ran　from　Smith's　land　to　Brown's　land；　it　belonged　to　Brown；　as　if　it　were　his　pet　dog。　The　logical　answer　to　this　would　be　simple：　Any　one　stung　on　Brown's　land　ought　to　be　able　to　prosecute　Brown　for　keeping　a　dangerous　wasp　without　a　muzzle。

Thus　the　poor　man　was　forced　to　be　a　tramp　along　the　roads　and　to　sleep　in　the　open。　　That　retreat　was　perceived；　and　that　retreat　was　cut　off。　A　landless　man　in　England　can　be　punished　for　behaving　in　the　only　way　that　a　landless　man　can　behave：　for　sleeping　under　a　hedge　in　Surrey　or　on　a　seat　on　the　Embankment。　　His　sin　is　described　（with　a　hideous　sense　of　fun）　as　that　of　having　no　visible　means　of　subsistence。

The　last　poss