heretics-第42节
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and the unconsciousness of the grass。 Trees have no dogmas。
Turnips are singularly broad…minded。
If then； I repeat； there is to be mental advance； it must be mental
advance in the construction of a definite philosophy of life。 And that
philosophy of life must be right and the other philosophies wrong。
Now of all； or nearly all； the able modern writers whom I have
briefly studied in this book； this is especially and pleasingly true；
that they do each of them have a constructive and affirmative view；
and that they do take it seriously and ask us to take it seriously。
There is nothing merely sceptically progressive about Mr。 Rudyard Kipling。
There is nothing in the least broad minded about Mr。 Bernard Shaw。
The paganism of Mr。 Lowes Dickinson is more grave than any Christianity。
Even the opportunism of Mr。 H。 G。 Wells is more dogmatic than
the idealism of anybody else。 Somebody complained； I think；
to Matthew Arnold that he was getting as dogmatic as Carlyle。
He replied； 〃That may be true； but you overlook an obvious difference。
I am dogmatic and right； and Carlyle is dogmatic and wrong。〃
The strong humour of the remark ought not to disguise from us its
everlasting seriousness and common sense； no man ought to write at all；
or even to speak at all； unless he thinks that he is in truth and the other
man in error。 In similar style； I hold that I am dogmatic and right；
while Mr。 Shaw is dogmatic and wrong。 But my main point； at present；
is to notice that the chief among these writers I have discussed
do most sanely and courageously offer themselves as dogmatists；
as founders of a system。 It may be true that the thing in Mr。 Shaw
most interesting to me； is the fact that Mr。 Shaw is wrong。
But it is equally true that the thing in Mr。 Shaw most interesting
to himself； is the fact that Mr。 Shaw is right。 Mr。 Shaw may have
none with him but himself； but it is not for himself he cares。
It is for the vast and universal church； of which he is the only member。
The two typical men of genius whom I have mentioned here； and with whose
names I have begun this book； are very symbolic； if only because they
have shown that the fiercest dogmatists can make the best artists。
In the fin de siecle atmosphere every one was crying out that
literature should be free from all causes and all ethical creeds。
Art was to produce only exquisite workmanship； and it was especially the
note of those days to demand brilliant plays and brilliant short stories。
And when they got them； they got them from a couple of moralists。
The best short stories were written by a man trying to preach Imperialism。
The best plays were written by a man trying to preach Socialism。
All the art of all the artists looked tiny and tedious beside
the art which was a byproduct of propaganda。
The reason； indeed； is very simple。 A man cannot be wise enough to be
a great artist without being wise enough to wish to be a philosopher。
A man cannot have the energy to produce good art without having
the energy to wish to pass beyond it。 A small artist is content
with art； a great artist is content with nothing except everything。
So we find that when real forces； good or bad； like Kipling and
G。 B。 S。； enter our arena； they bring with them not only startling
and arresting art； but very startling and arresting dogmas。 And they
care even more； and desire us to care even more； about their startling
and arresting dogmas than about their startling and arresting art。
Mr。 Shaw is a good dramatist； but what he desires more than
anything else to be is a good politician。 Mr。 Rudyard Kipling
is by divine caprice and natural genius an unconventional poet；
but what he desires more than anything else to be is a conventional poet。
He desires to be the poet of his people； bone of their bone； and flesh
of their flesh； understanding their origins； celebrating their destiny。
He desires to be Poet Laureate； a most sensible and honourable and
public…spirited desire。 Having been given by the gods originality
that is； disagreement with othershe desires divinely to agree with them。
But the most striking instance of all； more striking； I think；
even than either of these； is the instance of Mr。 H。 G。 Wells。
He began in a sort of insane infancy of pure art。 He began by making
a new heaven and a new earth； with the same irresponsible instinct
by which men buy a new necktie or button…hole。 He began by trifling
with the stars and systems in order to make ephemeral anecdotes；
he killed the universe for a joke。 He has since become more and
more serious； and has become； as men inevitably do when they become
more and more serious； more and more parochial。 He was frivolous about
the twilight of the gods； but he is serious about the London omnibus。
He was careless in 〃The Time Machine；〃 for that dealt only with
the destiny of all things； but be is careful； and even cautious；
in 〃Mankind in the Making；〃 for that deals with the day after
to…morrow。 He began with the end of the world； and that was easy。
Now he has gone on to the beginning of the world； and that is difficult。
But the main result of all this is the same as in the other cases。
The men who have really been the bold artists； the realistic artists；
the uncompromising artists； are the men who have turned out； after all；
to be writing 〃with a purpose。〃 Suppose that any cool and cynical
art…critic； any art…critic fully impressed with the conviction
that artists were greatest when they were most purely artistic；
suppose that a man who professed ably a humane aestheticism；
as did Mr。 Max Beerbohm； or a cruel aestheticism； as did
Mr。 W。 E。 Henley； had cast his eye over the whole fictional
literature which was recent in the year 1895； and had been asked
to select the three most vigorous and promising and original artists
and artistic works； he would； I think； most certainly have said
that for a fine artistic audacity； for a real artistic delicacy；
or for a whiff of true novelty in art； the things that stood first
were 〃Soldiers Three；〃 by a Mr。 Rudyard Kipling； 〃Arms and the Man；〃
by a Mr。 Bernard Shaw； and 〃The Time Machine；〃 by a man called Wells。
And all these men have shown themselves ingrainedly didactic。
You may express the matter if you will by saying that if we want
doctrines we go to the great artists。 But it is clear from
the psychology of the matter that this is not the true statement；
the true statement is that when we want any art tolerably brisk
and bold we have to go to the doctrinaires。
In concluding this book； therefore； I would ask； first and foremost；
that men such as these of whom I have spoken should not be insulted
by being taken for artists。 No man has any right whatever merely
to enjoy the work of Mr。 Bernard Shaw； he might as well enjoy
the invasion of his country by the French。 Mr。 Shaw writes either
to convince or to enrage us。 No man has any business to be a
Kiplingite without being a politician； and an Imperialist politician。
If a man is first with us； it should be because of what is first with him。
If a man convinces us at all； it should be by his convictions。
If we hate a poem of Kipling's from political passion； we are hating it
for the same reason that the poet loved it； if we dislike him because of
his opinions； we are disliking him for the best of all possible reasons。
If a man comes into Hyde Park to preach it is permissible to hoot him；
but it is discourteous to applaud him as a performing bear。
And an artist is only a performing bear compared with the meanest
man who fancies he has anything to say。
There is； indeed； one class of modern writers and thinkers who cannot
altogether be overlooked in this question； though there is no space
here for a lengthy account of them； which； indeed； to confess
the truth； would consist chiefly of abuse。 I mean those who get
over all these abysses and reconcile all these wars by talking about
〃aspects of truth；〃 by saying that the art of Kipling represents
one aspect of the truth； and the art of William Watson another；
the art of Mr。 Bernard Shaw one aspect of the truth； and the art
of Mr。 Cunningham Grahame another； the art of Mr。 H。 G。 Wells
one aspect； and the art of Mr。 Coventry Patmore （say） another。
I will only say here that this seems to me an evasion which has
not even bad the sense to disguise itself ingeniously in words。
If we talk of a certain thing being an aspect of truth；
it
