orthodoxy-第24节

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For　I　found　in　my　rationalist　teachers　no　explanation　of　such



exceptional　corruption。　　Christianity　（theoretically　speaking）



was　in　their　eyes　only　one　of　the　ordinary　myths　and　errors　of　mortals。　



THEY　gave　me　no　key　to　this　twisted　and　unnatural　badness。　



Such　a　paradox　of　evil　rose　to　the　stature　of　the　supernatural。　



It　was；　indeed；　almost　as　supernatural　as　the　infallibility　of　the　Pope。　



An　historic　institution；　which　never　went　right；　is　really　quite



as　much　of　a　miracle　as　an　institution　that　cannot　go　wrong。　



The　only　explanation　which　immediately　occurred　to　my　mind　was　that



Christianity　did　not　come　from　heaven；　but　from　hell。　　Really；　if　Jesus



of　Nazareth　was　not　Christ；　He　must　have　been　Antichrist。







　　　　　And　then　in　a　quiet　hour　a　strange　thought　struck　me　like　a　still



thunderbolt。　　There　had　suddenly　come　into　my　mind　another　explanation。　



Suppose　we　heard　an　unknown　man　spoken　of　by　many　men。　　Suppose　we



were　puzzled　to　hear　that　some　men　said　he　was　too　tall　and　some



too　short；　some　objected　to　his　fatness；　some　lamented　his　leanness；



some　thought　him　too　dark；　and　some　too　fair。　　One　explanation　（as



has　been　already　admitted）　would　be　that　he　might　be　an　odd　shape。　





But　there　is　another　explanation。　　He　might　be　the　right　shape。　



Outrageously　tall　men　might　feel　him　to　be　short。　　Very　short　men



might　feel　him　to　be　tall。　　Old　bucks　who　are　growing　stout　might



consider　him　insufficiently　filled　out；　old　beaux　who　were　growing



thin　might　feel　that　he　expanded　beyond　the　narrow　lines　of　elegance。　



Perhaps　Swedes　（who　have　pale　hair　like　tow）　called　him　a　dark　man；



while　negroes　considered　him　distinctly　blonde。　　Perhaps　（in　short）



this　extraordinary　thing　is　really　the　ordinary　thing；　at　least



the　normal　thing；　the　centre。　　Perhaps；　after　all；　it　is　Christianity



that　is　sane　and　all　its　critics　that　are　madin　various　ways。　



I　tested　this　idea　by　asking　myself　whether　there　was　about　any



of　the　accusers　anything　morbid　that　might　explain　the　accusation。　



I　was　startled　to　find　that　this　key　fitted　a　lock。　　For　instance；



it　was　certainly　odd　that　the　modern　world　charged　Christianity



at　once　with　bodily　austerity　and　with　artistic　pomp。　　But　then



it　was　also　odd；　very　odd；　that　the　modern　world　itself　combined



extreme　bodily　luxury　with　an　extreme　absence　of　artistic　pomp。　



The　modern　man　thought　Becket's　robes　too　rich　and　his　meals　too　poor。　



But　then　the　modern　man　was　really　exceptional　in　history；　no　man　before



ever　ate　such　elaborate　dinners　in　such　ugly　clothes。　　The　modern　man



found　the　church　too　simple　exactly　where　modern　life　is　too　complex；



he　found　the　church　too　gorgeous　exactly　where　modern　life　is　too　dingy。　



The　man　who　disliked　the　plain　fasts　and　feasts　was　mad　on　entrees。　



The　man　who　disliked　vestments　wore　a　pair　of　preposterous　trousers。　



And　surely　if　there　was　any　insanity　involved　in　the　matter　at　all　it



was　in　the　trousers；　not　in　the　simply　falling　robe。　　If　there　was　any



insanity　at　all；　it　was　in　the　extravagant　entrees；　not　in　the　bread



and　wine。







　　　　　I　went　over　all　the　cases；　and　I　found　the　key　fitted　so　far。　



The　fact　that　Swinburne　was　irritated　at　the　unhappiness　of　Christians



and　yet　more　irritated　at　their　happiness　was　easily　explained。　



It　was　no　longer　a　complication　of　diseases　in　Christianity；



but　a　complication　of　diseases　in　Swinburne。　　The　restraints



of　Christians　saddened　him　simply　because　he　was　more　hedonist



than　a　healthy　man　should　be。　　The　faith　of　Christians　angered



him　because　he　was　more　pessimist　than　a　healthy　man　should　be。　



In　the　same　way　the　Malthusians　by　instinct　attacked　Christianity；



not　because　there　is　anything　especially　anti…Malthusian　about



Christianity；　but　because　there　is　something　a　little　anti…human



about　Malthusianism。







　　　　　Nevertheless　it　could　not；　I　felt；　be　quite　true　that　Christianity



was　merely　sensible　and　stood　in　the　middle。　　There　was　really



an　element　in　it　of　emphasis　and　even　frenzy　which　had　justified



the　secularists　in　their　superficial　criticism。　　It　might　be　wise；



I　began　more　and　more　to　think　that　it　was　wise；　but　it　was　not



merely　worldly　wise；　it　was　not　merely　temperate　and　respectable。　



Its　fierce　crusaders　and　meek　saints　might　balance　each　other；



still；　the　crusaders　were　very　fierce　and　the　saints　were　very　meek；



meek　beyond　all　decency。　　Now；　it　was　just　at　this　point　of　the



speculation　that　I　remembered　my　thoughts　about　the　martyr　and



the　suicide。　　In　that　matter　there　had　been　this　combination　between



two　almost　insane　positions　which　yet　somehow　amounted　to　sanity。　



This　was　just　such　another　contradiction；　and　this　I　had　already



found　to　be　true。　　This　was　exactly　one　of　the　paradoxes　in　which



sceptics　found　the　creed　wrong；　and　in　this　I　had　found　it　right。　



Madly　as　Christians　might　love　the　martyr　or　hate　the　suicide；



they　never　felt　these　passions　more　madly　than　I　had　felt　them　long



before　I　dreamed　of　Christianity。　　Then　the　most　difficult　and



interesting　part　of　the　mental　process　opened；　and　I　began　to　trace



this　idea　darkly　through　all　the　enormous　thoughts　of　our　theology。　



The　idea　was　that　which　I　had　outlined　touching　the　optimist　and



the　pessimist；　that　we　want　not　an　amalgam　or　compromise；　but　both



things　at　the　top　of　their　energy；　love　and　wrath　both　burning。　



Here　I　shall　only　trace　it　in　relation　to　ethics。　　But　I　need　not



remind　the　reader　that　the　idea　of　this　combination　is　indeed　central



in　orthodox　theology。　　For　orthodox　theology　has　specially　insisted



that　Christ　was　not　a　being　apart　from　God　and　man；　like　an　elf；



nor　yet　a　being　half　human　and　half　not；　like　a　centaur；　but　both



things　at　once　and　both　things　thoroughly；　very　man　and　very　God。　



Now　let　me　trace　this　notion　as　I　found　it。







　　　　　All　sane　men　can　see　that　sanity　is　some　kind　of　equilibrium；



that　one　may　be　mad　and　eat　too　much；　or　mad　and　eat　too　little。　



Some　moderns　have　indeed　appeared　with　vague　versions　of　progress　and



evolution　which　seeks　to　destroy　the　MESON　or　balance　of　Aristotle。　



They　seem　to　suggest　that　we　are　meant　to　starve　progressively；



or　to　go　on　eating　larger　and　larger　breakfasts　every　morning　for　ever。　



But　the　great　truism　of　the　MESON　remains　for　all　thinking　men；



and　these　people　have　not　upset　any　balance　except　their　own。　



But　granted　that　we　have　all　to　keep　a　balance；　the　real　interest



comes　in　with　the　question　of　how　that　balance　can　be　kept。　



That　was　the　problem　which　Paganism　tried　to　solve：　　that　was



the　problem　which　I　think　Christianity　solved　and　solved　in　a　very



strange　way。







　　　　　Paganism　declared　that　virtue　was　in　a　balance；　Christianity



declared　it　was　in　a　conflict：　　the　collision　of　two　passions



apparently　opposite。　　Of　course　they　were　not　really　inconsistent；



but　they　were　such　that　it　was　hard　to　hold　simultaneously。　



Let　us　follow　for　a　moment　the　clue　of　the　martyr　and　the　suicide；



and　take　the　case　of　courage。　　No　quality　has　ever　so　much　addled



the　brains　and　tangled　the　definitions　of　merely　rational　sages。　



Courage　is　almost　a　contradiction　in　terms。　　It　means　a　strong　desire



to　live　taking　the　form　of　a　readiness　to　die。　　〃He　that　will　lose



his　life；　the　same　shall　save　it；〃　is　not　a　piece　of　mysticism



for　saints　and　heroes。　　It　is　a　piece　of　everyday　advice　for



sailors　or　mountaineers。　　It　might　be　printed　in　an　Alpine　guide



or　a　drill　book。　　This　paradox　is　the　whole　principle　of　courage；



even　of　quite　earthly　or　quite　brutal　courage。　　A　man　cut　off　by



the　sea　may　save　his　life　if　he　will　risk　it　on　the　precipice。







　　　　　He　can　only　get　away　from　death　by　continually　stepping　within



an　inch　of　it。　　A　soldier　surrounded　by　enemies；　if　he　is　to　cut



his　way　out；　needs　to　combine　a　strong　desire　for　living　with　a



strange　carelessness　about　dying。　　He　must　not　merely　cling　to　life；



for　then　he　will　be　a　coward；　and　will　not　escape。　　He　must　not　merely



wait　for　death；　for　then　he　will　be　a　suicide；　and　will　not　escape。　



He　must　seek　his　life　in　a　spirit　of　furious　indifference　to　it；



he　must　desire　life　like　water　and　yet　drink　death　like　wine。　



No　philosopher；　I　fancy；　has　ever　expressed　this　romantic　riddle



with　adequate　lucidity；　and　I　certainly　have　not　done　so。　



But　Christianity　has　done　more：　　it　has　marked　the　limits　of　it



in　the　awful　graves　of　the　suicide　and　the　hero；　showing　the　distance



between　him　who　dies　for　the　sake　of　living　and