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第16节

heretics-第16节

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Omar's (or Fitzgerald's) effect upon the other world we may let go;



his hand upon this world has been heavy and paralyzing。



The Puritans; as I have said; are far jollier than he。



The new ascetics who follow Thoreau or Tolstoy are much livelier company;



for; though the surrender of strong drink and such luxuries may



strike us as an idle negation; it may leave a man with innumerable



natural pleasures; and; above all; with man's natural power of happiness。



Thoreau could enjoy the sunrise without a cup of coffee。  If Tolstoy



cannot admire marriage; at least he is healthy enough to admire mud。



Nature can be enjoyed without even the most natural luxuries。



A good bush needs no wine。  But neither nature nor wine nor anything



else can be enjoyed if we have the wrong attitude towards happiness;



and Omar (or Fitzgerald) did have the wrong attitude towards happiness。



He and those he has influenced do not see that if we are to be truly gay;



we must believe that there is some eternal gaiety in the nature of things。



We cannot enjoy thoroughly even a pas…de…quatre at a subscription dance



unless we believe that the stars are dancing to the same tune。  No one can



be really hilarious but the serious man。  〃Wine;〃 says the Scripture;



〃maketh glad the heart of man;〃 but only of the man who has a heart。



The thing called high spirits is possible only to the spiritual。



Ultimately a man cannot rejoice in anything except the nature of things。



Ultimately a man can enjoy nothing except religion。  Once in the world's



history men did believe that the stars were dancing to the tune



of their temples; and they danced as men have never danced since。



With this old pagan eudaemonism the sage of the Rubaiyat has



quite as little to do as he has with any Christian variety。



He is no more a Bacchanal than he is a saint。  Dionysus and his church



was grounded on a serious joie…de…vivre like that of Walt Whitman。



Dionysus made wine; not a medicine; but a sacrament。



Jesus Christ also made wine; not a medicine; but a sacrament。



But Omar makes it; not a sacrament; but a medicine。  He feasts



because life is not joyful; he revels because he is not glad。



〃Drink;〃 he says; 〃for you know not whence you come nor why。



Drink; for you know not when you go nor where。  Drink; because the



stars are cruel and the world as idle as a humming…top。 Drink;



because there is nothing worth trusting; nothing worth fighting for。



Drink; because all things are lapsed in a base equality and an



evil peace。〃  So he stands offering us the cup in his hand。



And at the high altar of Christianity stands another figure; in whose



hand also is the cup of the vine。  〃Drink〃 he says 〃for the whole



world is as red as this wine; with the crimson of the love and wrath



of God。  Drink; for the trumpets are blowing for battle and this



is the stirrup…cup。 Drink; for this my blood of the new testament



that is shed for you。  Drink; for I know of whence you come and why。



Drink; for I know of when you go and where。〃















VIII。  The Mildness of the Yellow Press











There is a great deal of protest made from one quarter or another



nowadays against the influence of that new journalism which is



associated with the names of Sir Alfred Harmsworth and Mr。 Pearson。



But almost everybody who attacks it attacks on the ground that it



is very sensational; very violent and vulgar and startling。



I am speaking in no affected contrariety; but in the simplicity



of a genuine personal impression; when I say that this journalism



offends as being not sensational or violent enough。  The real vice



is not that it is startling; but that it is quite insupportably tame。



The whole object is to keep carefully along a certain level of the



expected and the commonplace; it may be low; but it must take care



also to be flat。  Never by any chance in it is there any of that real



plebeian pungency which can be heard from the ordinary cabman in



the ordinary street。  We have heard of a certain standard of decorum



which demands that things should be funny without being vulgar;



but the standard of this decorum demands that if things are vulgar



they shall be vulgar without being funny。  This journalism does



not merely fail to exaggerate lifeit positively underrates it;



and it has to do so because it is intended for the faint and languid



recreation of men whom the fierceness of modern life has fatigued。



This press is not the yellow press at all; it is the drab press。



Sir Alfred Harmsworth must not address to the tired clerk



any observation more witty than the tired clerk might be able



to address to Sir Alfred Harmsworth。  It must not expose anybody



(anybody who is powerful; that is); it must not offend anybody;



it must not even please anybody; too much。  A general vague idea



that in spite of all this; our yellow press is sensational;



arises from such external accidents as large type or lurid headlines。



It is quite true that these editors print everything they possibly



can in large capital letters。  But they do this; not because it



is startling; but because it is soothing。  To people wholly weary



or partly drunk in a dimly lighted train; it is a simplification and



a comfort to have things presented in this vast and obvious manner。



The editors use this gigantic alphabet in dealing with their readers;



for exactly the same reason that parents and governesses use



a similar gigantic alphabet in teaching children to spell。



The nursery authorities do not use an A as big as a horseshoe



in order to make the child jump; on the contrary; they use it to put



the child at his ease; to make things smoother and more evident。



Of the same character is the dim and quiet dame school which



Sir Alfred Harmsworth and Mr。 Pearson keep。  All their sentiments



are spelling…book sentimentsthat is to say; they are sentiments



with which the pupil is already respectfully familiar。



All their wildest posters are leaves torn from a copy…book。







Of real sensational journalism; as it exists in France;



in Ireland; and in America; we have no trace in this country。



When a journalist in Ireland wishes to create a thrill;



he creates a thrill worth talking about。  He denounces a leading



Irish member for corruption; or he charges the whole police system



with a wicked and definite conspiracy。  When a French journalist



desires a frisson there is a frisson; he discovers; let us say;



that the President of the Republic has murdered three wives。



Our yellow journalists invent quite as unscrupulously as this;



their moral condition is; as regards careful veracity; about the same。



But it is their mental calibre which happens to be such



that they can only invent calm and even reassuring things。



The fictitious version of the massacre of the envoys of Pekin



was mendacious; but it was not interesting; except to those who



had private reasons for terror or sorrow。  It was not connected



with any bold and suggestive view of the Chinese situation。



It revealed only a vague idea that nothing could be impressive



except a great deal of blood。  Real sensationalism; of which I



happen to be very fond; may be either moral or immoral。



But even when it is most immoral; it requires moral courage。



For it is one of the most dangerous things on earth genuinely



to surprise anybody。  If you make any sentient creature jump;



you render it by no means improbable that it will jump on you。



But the leaders of this movement have no moral courage or immoral courage;



their whole method consists in saying; with large and elaborate emphasis;



the things which everybody else says casually; and without remembering



what they have said。  When they brace themselves up to attack anything;



they never reach the point of attacking anything which is large



and real; and would resound with the shock。  They do not attack



the army as men do in France; or the judges as men do in Ireland;



or the democracy itself as men did in England a hundred years ago。



They attack something like the War Officesomething; that is;



which everybody attacks and nobody bothers to defend;



something which is an old joke in fourth…rate comic papers。



just as a man shows he has a weak voice by straining it



to shout; so they show the hopelessly unsensational nature



of their minds when they really try to be sensational。



With the whole world full of big and dubious institutions;



with the whole wickedness of civilization staring them in the face;



their idea of being bold and bright is t

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