按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
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