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of other words; that there are things that do not move。



And even in the act of saying that things change; we say that there



is something unchangeable。







But certainly the best example of Mr。 Wells's fallacy can be



found in the example which he himself chooses。  It is quite true



that we see a dim light which; compared with a darker thing;



is light; but which; compared with a stronger light; is darkness。



But the quality of light remains the same thing; or else we



should not call it a stronger light or recognize it as such。



If the character of light were not fixed in the mind; we should be



quite as likely to call a denser shadow a stronger light; or vice



versa If the character of light became even for an instant unfixed;



if it became even by a hair's…breadth doubtful; if; for example;



there crept into our idea of light some vague idea of blueness;



then in that flash we have become doubtful whether the new light



has more light or less。  In brief; the progress may be as varying



as a cloud; but the direction must be as rigid as a French road。



North and South are relative in the sense that I am North of Bournemouth



and South of Spitzbergen。  But if there be any doubt of the position



of the North Pole; there is in equal degree a doubt of whether I



am South of Spitzbergen at all。  The absolute idea of light may be



practically unattainable。  We may not be able to procure pure light。



We may not be able to get to the North Pole。  But because the North



Pole is unattainable; it does not follow that it is indefinable。



And it is only because the North Pole is not indefinable that we



can make a satisfactory map of Brighton and Worthing。







In other words; Plato turned his face to truth but his back on



Mr。 H。 G。 Wells; when he turned to his museum of specified ideals。



It is precisely here that Plato shows his sense。  It is not true



that everything changes; the things that change are all the manifest



and material things。  There is something that does not change;



and that is precisely the abstract quality; the invisible idea。



Mr。 Wells says truly enough; that a thing which we have seen in one



connection as dark we may see in another connection as light。



But the thing common to both incidents is the mere idea of light



which we have not seen at all。  Mr。 Wells might grow taller and taller



for unending aeons till his head was higher than the loneliest star。



I can imagine his writing a good novel about it。  In that case



he would see the trees first as tall things and then as short things;



he would see the clouds first as high and then as low。



But there would remain with him through the ages in that starry



loneliness the idea of tallness; he would have in the awful spaces



for companion and comfort the definite conception that he was growing



taller and not (for instance) growing fatter。







And now it comes to my mind that Mr。 H。 G。 Wells actually has written



a very delightful romance about men growing as tall as trees;



and that here; again; he seems to me to have been a victim of this



vague relativism。  〃The Food of the Gods〃 is; like Mr。 Bernard



Shaw's play; in essence a study of the Superman idea。  And it lies;



I think; even through the veil of a half…pantomimic allegory;



open to the same intellectual attack。  We cannot be expected to have



any regard for a great creature if he does not in any manner conform



to our standards。  For unless he passes our standard of greatness



we cannot even call him great。  Nietszche summed up all that is



interesting in the Superman idea when he said; 〃Man is a thing



which has to be surpassed。〃  But the very word 〃surpass〃 implies



the existence of a standard common to us and the thing surpassing us。



If the Superman is more manly than men are; of course they will



ultimately deify him; even if they happen to kill him first。



But if he is simply more supermanly; they may be quite indifferent



to him as they would be to another seemingly aimless monstrosity。



He must submit to our test even in order to overawe us。



Mere force or size even is a standard; but that alone will never



make men think a man their superior。  Giants; as in the wise old



fairy…tales; are vermin。  Supermen; if not good men; are vermin。







〃The Food of the Gods〃 is the tale of 〃Jack the Giant…Killer〃



told from the point of view of the giant。  This has not; I think;



been done before in literature; but I have little doubt that the



psychological substance of it existed in fact。  I have little doubt



that the giant whom Jack killed did regard himself as the Superman。



It is likely enough that he considered Jack a narrow and parochial person



who wished to frustrate a great forward movement of the life…force。



If (as not unfrequently was the case) he happened to have two heads;



he would point out the elementary maxim which declares them



to be better than one。  He would enlarge on the subtle modernity



of such an equipment; enabling a giant to look at a subject



from two points of view; or to correct himself with promptitude。



But Jack was the champion of the enduring human standards;



of the principle of one man one head and one man one conscience;



of the single head and the single heart and the single eye。



Jack was quite unimpressed by the question of whether the giant was



a particularly gigantic giant。  All he wished to know was whether



he was a good giantthat is; a giant who was any good to us。



What were the giant's religious views; what his views on politics



and the duties of the citizen?  Was he fond of children



or fond of them only in a dark and sinister sense ?  To use a fine



phrase for emotional sanity; was his heart in the right place?



Jack had sometimes to cut him up with a sword in order to find out。



The old and correct story of Jack the Giant…Killer is simply the whole



story of man; if it were understood we should need no Bibles or histories。



But the modern world in particular does not seem to understand it at all。



The modern world; like Mr。 Wells is on the side of the giants;



the safest place; and therefore the meanest and the most prosaic。



The modern world; when it praises its little Caesars;



talks of being strong and brave:  but it does not seem to see



the eternal paradox involved in the conjunction of these ideas。



The strong cannot be brave。  Only the weak can be brave;



and yet again; in practice; only those who can be brave can be trusted;



in time of doubt; to be strong。  The only way in which a giant could



really keep himself in training against the inevitable Jack would



be by continually fighting other giants ten times as big as himself。



That is by ceasing to be a giant and becoming a Jack。



Thus that sympathy with the small or the defeated as such;



with which we Liberals and Nationalists have been often reproached;



is not a useless sentimentalism at all; as Mr。 Wells and his



friends fancy。  It is the first law of practical courage。



To be in the weakest camp is to be in the strongest school。



Nor can I imagine anything that would do humanity more good than



the advent of a race of Supermen; for them to fight like dragons。



If the Superman is better than we; of course we need not fight him;



but in that case; why not call him the Saint?  But if he is



merely stronger (whether physically; mentally; or morally stronger;



I do not care a farthing); then he ought to have to reckon with us



at least for all the strength we have。  It we are weaker than he;



that is no reason why we should be weaker than ourselves。



If we are not tall enough to touch the giant's knees; that is



no reason why we should become shorter by falling on our own。



But that is at bottom the meaning of all modern hero…worship



and celebration of the Strong Man; the Caesar the Superman。



That he may be something more than man; we must be something less。







Doubtless there is an older and better hero…worship than this。



But the old hero was a being who; like Achilles; was more human



than humanity itself。  Nietzsche's Superman is cold and friendless。



Achilles is so foolishly fond of his friend that he slaughters



armies in the agony of his bereavement。  Mr。 Shaw's sad Caesar says



in his desolate pride; 〃He who has never hoped can never despair。〃



The Man…God of old answers from his awful hill; 〃Was ever sorrow



like unto my sorrow?〃  A great man is not a man so strong that he feels



less than other men; he is a man so strong that he feels more。



And when Nietszche says; 〃A new commandment I give to you; ‘

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