orthodoxy-第7节
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The phrases of the street are not only forcible but subtle：
for a figure of speech can often get into a crack too small for
a definition。 Phrases like 〃put out〃 or 〃off colour〃 might have
been coined by Mr。 Henry James in an agony of verbal precision。
And there is no more subtle truth than that of the everyday phrase
about a man having 〃his heart in the right place。〃 It involves the
idea of normal proportion； not only does a certain function exist；
but it is rightly related to other functions。 Indeed； the negation
of this phrase would describe with peculiar accuracy the somewhat morbid
mercy and perverse tenderness of the most representative moderns。
If； for instance； I had to describe with fairness the character
of Mr。 Bernard Shaw； I could not express myself more exactly
than by saying that he has a heroically large and generous heart；
but not a heart in the right place。 And this is so of the typical
society of our time。
The modern world is not evil； in some ways the modern
world is far too good。 It is full of wild and wasted virtues。
When a religious scheme is shattered （as Christianity was shattered
at the Reformation）； it is not merely the vices that are let loose。
The vices are； indeed； let loose； and they wander and do damage。
But the virtues are let loose also； and the virtues wander
more wildly； and the virtues do more terrible damage。 The modern
world is full of the old Christian virtues gone mad。 The virtues
have gone mad because they have been isolated from each other
and are wandering alone。 Thus some scientists care for truth；
and their truth is pitiless。 Thus some humanitarians only care
for pity； and their pity （I am sorry to say） is often untruthful。
For example； Mr。 Blatchford attacks Christianity because he is mad
on one Christian virtue： the merely mystical and almost irrational
virtue of charity。 He has a strange idea that he will make it
easier to forgive sins by saying that there are no sins to forgive。
Mr。 Blatchford is not only an early Christian； he is the only
early Christian who ought really to have been eaten by lions。
For in his case the pagan accusation is really true： his mercy
would mean mere anarchy。 He really is the enemy of the human race
because he is so human。 As the other extreme； we may take
the acrid realist； who has deliberately killed in himself all
human pleasure in happy tales or in the healing of the heart。
Torquemada tortured people physically for the sake of moral truth。
Zola tortured people morally for the sake of physical truth。
But in Torquemada's time there was at least a system that could
to some extent make righteousness and peace kiss each other。
Now they do not even bow。 But a much stronger case than these two of
truth and pity can be found in the remarkable case of the dislocation
of humility。
It is only with one aspect of humility that we are here concerned。
Humility was largely meant as a restraint upon the arrogance
and infinity of the appetite of man。 He was always outstripping
his mercies with his own newly invented needs。 His very power
of enjoyment destroyed half his joys。 By asking for pleasure；
he lost the chief pleasure； for the chief pleasure is surprise。
Hence it became evident that if a man would make his world large；
he must be always making himself small。 Even the haughty visions；
the tall cities； and the toppling pinnacles are the creations
of humility。 Giants that tread down forests like grass are
the creations of humility。 Towers that vanish upwards above
the loneliest star are the creations of humility。 For towers
are not tall unless we look up at them； and giants are not giants
unless they are larger than we。 All this gigantesque imagination；
which is； perhaps； the mightiest of the pleasures of man； is at bottom
entirely humble。 It is impossible without humility to enjoy anything
even pride。
But what we suffer from to…day is humility in the wrong place。
Modesty has moved from the organ of ambition。 Modesty has settled
upon the organ of conviction； where it was never meant to be。
A man was meant to be doubtful about himself； but undoubting about
the truth； this has been exactly reversed。 Nowadays the part
of a man that a man does assert is exactly the part he ought not
to asserthimself。 The part he doubts is exactly the part he
ought not to doubtthe Divine Reason。 Huxley preached a humility
content to learn from Nature。 But the new sceptic is so humble
that he doubts if he can even learn。 Thus we should be wrong if we
had said hastily that there is no humility typical of our time。
The truth is that there is a real humility typical of our time；
but it so happens that it is practically a more poisonous humility
than the wildest prostrations of the ascetic。 The old humility was
a spur that prevented a man from stopping； not a nail in his boot
that prevented him from going on。 For the old humility made a man
doubtful about his efforts； which might make him work harder。
But the new humility makes a man doubtful about his aims； which will make
him stop working altogether。
At any street corner we may meet a man who utters the frantic
and blasphemous statement that he may be wrong。 Every day one
comes across somebody who says that of course his view may not
be the right one。 Of course his view must be the right one；
or it is not his view。 We are on the road to producing a race
of men too mentally modest to believe in the multiplication table。
We are in danger of seeing philosophers who doubt the law of gravity
as being a mere fancy of their own。 Scoffers of old time were too
proud to be convinced； but these are too humble to be convinced。
The meek do inherit the earth； but the modern sceptics are too meek
even to claim their inheritance。 It is exactly this intellectual
helplessness which is our second problem。
The last chapter has been concerned only with a fact of observation：
that what peril of morbidity there is for man comes rather from
his reason than his imagination。 It was not meant to attack the
authority of reason； rather it is the ultimate purpose to defend it。
For it needs defence。 The whole modern world is at war with reason；
and the tower already reels。
The sages； it is often said； can see no answer to the riddle
of religion。 But the trouble with our sages is not that they
cannot see the answer； it is that they cannot even see the riddle。
They are like children so stupid as to notice nothing paradoxical
in the playful assertion that a door is not a door。 The modern
latitudinarians speak； for instance； about authority in religion
not only as if there were no reason in it； but as if there had never
been any reason for it。 Apart from seeing its philosophical basis；
they cannot even see its historical cause。 Religious authority
has often； doubtless； been oppressive or unreasonable； just as
every legal system （and especially our present one） has been
callous and full of a cruel apathy。 It is rational to attack
the police； nay； it is glorious。 But the modern critics of religious
authority are like men who should attack the police without ever
having heard of burglars。 For there is a great and possible peril
to the human mind： a peril as practical as burglary。 Against it
religious authority was reared； rightly or wrongly； as a barrier。
And against it something certainly must be reared as a barrier；
if our race is to avoid ruin。
That peril is that the human intellect is free to destroy itself。
Just as one generation could prevent the very existence of the next
generation； by all entering a monastery or jumping into the sea； so one
set of thinkers can in some degree prevent further thinking by teaching
the next generation that there is no validity in any human thought。
It is idle to talk always of the alternative of reason and faith。
Reason is itself a matter of faith。 It is an act of faith to assert
that our thoughts have any relation to reality at all。 If you are
merely a sceptic； you must sooner or later ask yourself the question；
〃Why should ANYTHING go right； even observation and deduction？
Why should not good logic be as misleading as bad logic？
They are both movements in the brain of a bewildered ape？〃
The young sceptic says； 〃I have a right to think for myself。〃
But the ol
