heretics-第27节
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has the incredible lack of humour and lack of imagination to ask us
to believe that his aristocracy is an aristocracy of strong muscles or
an aristocracy of strong wills; it is necessary to point out the truth。
It is an aristocracy of weak nerves。
We make our friends; we make our enemies; but God makes our
next…door neighbour。 Hence he comes to us clad in all the careless
terrors of nature; he is as strange as the stars; as reckless and
indifferent as the rain。 He is Man; the most terrible of the beasts。
That is why the old religions and the old scriptural language showed
so sharp a wisdom when they spoke; not of one's duty towards humanity;
but one's duty towards one's neighbour。 The duty towards humanity may
often take the form of some choice which is personal or even pleasurable。
That duty may be a hobby; it may even be a dissipation。
We may work in the East End because we are peculiarly fitted to work
in the East End; or because we think we are; we may fight for the cause
of international peace because we are very fond of fighting。
The most monstrous martyrdom; the most repulsive experience; may be
the result of choice or a kind of taste。 We may be so made as to be
particularly fond of lunatics or specially interested in leprosy。
We may love negroes because they are black or German Socialists because
they are pedantic。 But we have to love our neighbour because he is there
a much more alarming reason for a much more serious operation。
He is the sample of humanity which is actually given us。
Precisely because he may be anybody he is everybody。
He is a symbol because he is an accident。
Doubtless men flee from small environments into lands that are
very deadly。 But this is natural enough; for they are not fleeing
from death。 They are fleeing from life。 And this principle
applies to ring within ring of the social system of humanity。
It is perfectly reasonable that men should seek for some particular
variety of the human type; so long as they are seeking for that
variety of the human type; and not for mere human variety。
It is quite proper that a British diplomatist should seek the society
of Japanese generals; if what he wants is Japanese generals。
But if what he wants is people different from himself; he had much
better stop at home and discuss religion with the housemaid。
It is quite reasonable that the village genius should come up to conquer
London if what he wants is to conquer London。 But if he wants to conquer
something fundamentally and symbolically hostile and also very strong;
he had much better remain where he is and have a row with the rector。
The man in the suburban street is quite right if he goes to
Ramsgate for the sake of Ramsgatea difficult thing to imagine。
But if; as he expresses it; he goes to Ramsgate 〃for a change;〃
then he would have a much more romantic and even melodramatic
change if he jumped over the wall into his neighbours garden。
The consequences would be bracing in a sense far beyond the possibilities
of Ramsgate hygiene。
Now; exactly as this principle applies to the empire; to the nation
within the empire; to the city within the nation; to the street
within the city; so it applies to the home within the street。
The institution of the family is to be commended for precisely
the same reasons that the institution of the nation; or the
institution of the city; are in this matter to be commended。
It is a good thing for a man to live in a family for the same reason
that it is a good thing for a man to be besieged in a city。
It is a good thing for a man to live in a family in the same sense that it
is a beautiful and delightful thing for a man to be snowed up in a street。
They all force him to realize that life is not a thing from outside;
but a thing from inside。 Above all; they all insist upon the fact
that life; if it be a truly stimulating and fascinating life;
is a thing which; of its nature; exists in spite of ourselves。
The modern writers who have suggested; in a more or less open manner;
that the family is a bad institution; have generally confined
themselves to suggesting; with much sharpness; bitterness; or pathos;
that perhaps the family is not always very congenial。
Of course the family is a good institution because it is uncongenial。
It is wholesome precisely because it contains so many
divergencies and varieties。 It is; as the sentimentalists say;
like a little kingdom; and; like most other little kingdoms;
is generally in a state of something resembling anarchy。
It is exactly because our brother George is not interested in our
religious difficulties; but is interested in the Trocadero Restaurant;
that the family has some of the bracing qualities of the commonwealth。
It is precisely because our uncle Henry does not approve of the theatrical
ambitions of our sister Sarah that the family is like humanity。
The men and women who; for good reasons and bad; revolt against the family;
are; for good reasons and bad; simply revolting against mankind。
Aunt Elizabeth is unreasonable; like mankind。 Papa is excitable;
like mankind Our youngest brother is mischievous; like mankind。
Grandpapa is stupid; like the world; he is old; like the world。
Those who wish; rightly or wrongly; to step out of all this;
do definitely wish to step into a narrower world。 They are
dismayed and terrified by the largeness and variety of the family。
Sarah wishes to find a world wholly consisting of private theatricals;
George wishes to think the Trocadero a cosmos。 I do not say;
for a moment; that the flight to this narrower life may not be
the right thing for the individual; any more than I say the same
thing about flight into a monastery。 But I do say that anything
is bad and artificial which tends to make these people succumb
to the strange delusion that they are stepping into a world
which is actually larger and more varied than their own。
The best way that a man could test his readiness to encounter the common
variety of mankind would be to climb down a chimney into any house
at random; and get on as well as possible with the people inside。
And that is essentially what each one of us did on the day that
he was born。
This is; indeed; the sublime and special romance of the family。 It is
romantic because it is a toss…up。 It is romantic because it is everything
that its enemies call it。 It is romantic because it is arbitrary。
It is romantic because it is there。 So long as you have groups of men
chosen rationally; you have some special or sectarian atmosphere。
It is when you have groups of men chosen irrationally that you have men。
The element of adventure begins to exist; for an adventure is;
by its nature; a thing that comes to us。 It is a thing that chooses us;
not a thing that we choose。 Falling in love has been often
regarded as the supreme adventure; the supreme romantic accident。
In so much as there is in it something outside ourselves;
something of a sort of merry fatalism; this is very true。
Love does take us and transfigure and torture us。 It does break our
hearts with an unbearable beauty; like the unbearable beauty of music。
But in so far as we have certainly something to do with the matter;
in so far as we are in some sense prepared to fall in love and in some
sense jump into it; in so far as we do to some extent choose and to some
extent even judgein all this falling in love is not truly romantic;
is not truly adventurous at all。 In this degree the supreme adventure
is not falling in love。 The supreme adventure is being born。
There we do walk suddenly into a splendid and startling trap。
There we do see something of which we have not dreamed before。
Our father and mother do lie in wait for us and leap out on us;
like brigands from a bush。 Our uncle is a surprise。 Our aunt is;
in the beautiful common expression; a bolt from the blue。
When we step into the family; by the act of being born; we do
step into a world which is incalculable; into a world which has
its own strange laws; into a world which could do without us;
into a world that we have not made。 In other words; when we step
into the family we step into a fairy…tale。
This colour as of a fantastic narrative ought to cling
to the family and to our relations with it throughout life。
Romance is the deepest thing in life; romance is deeper even
than reality。 For even if reality could be proved to be mislead