orthodoxy-第13部分

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Doubtless　she　has　given　the　advice　to　many　champions；　and　has　seen　many



castles　fall；　but　she　does　not　lose　either　her　wonder　or　her　reason。　



She　does　not　muddle　her　head　until　it　imagines　a　necessary　mental



connection　between　a　horn　and　a　falling　tower。　　But　the　scientific



men　do　muddle　their　heads；　until　they　imagine　a　necessary　mental



connection　between　an　apple　leaving　the　tree　and　an　apple　reaching



the　ground。　　They　do　really　talk　as　if　they　had　found　not　only



a　set　of　marvellous　facts；　but　a　truth　connecting　those　facts。　



They　do　talk　as　if　the　connection　of　two　strange　things　physically



connected　them　philosophically。　　They　feel　that　because　one



incomprehensible　thing　constantly　follows　another　incomprehensible



thing　the　two　together　somehow　make　up　a　comprehensible　thing。　



Two　black　riddles　make　a　white　answer。







　　　　　In　fairyland　we　avoid　the　word　〃law〃；　but　in　the　land　of　science



they　are　singularly　fond　of　it。　　Thus　they　will　call　some　interesting



conjecture　about　how　forgotten　folks　pronounced　the　alphabet；



Grimm's　Law。　　But　Grimm's　Law　is　far　less　intellectual　than



Grimm's　Fairy　Tales。　　The　tales　are；　at　any　rate；　certainly　tales；



while　the　law　is　not　a　law。　　A　law　implies　that　we　know　the　nature



of　the　generalisation　and　enactment；　not　merely　that　we　have　noticed



some　of　the　effects。　　If　there　is　a　law　that　pick…pockets　shall　go



to　prison；　it　implies　that　there　is　an　imaginable　mental　connection



between　the　idea　of　prison　and　the　idea　of　picking　pockets。　



And　we　know　what　the　idea　is。　　We　can　say　why　we　take　liberty



from　a　man　who　takes　liberties。　　But　we　cannot　say　why　an　egg　can



turn　into　a　chicken　any　more　than　we　can　say　why　a　bear　could　turn



into　a　fairy　prince。　　As　IDEAS；　the　egg　and　the　chicken　are　further



off　from　each　other　than　the　bear　and　the　prince；　for　no　egg　in



itself　suggests　a　chicken；　whereas　some　princes　do　suggest　bears。　



Granted；　then；　that　certain　transformations　do　happen；　it　is　essential



that　we　should　regard　them　in　the　philosophic　manner　of　fairy　tales；



not　in　the　unphilosophic　manner　of　science　and　the　〃Laws　of　Nature。〃　



When　we　are　asked　why　eggs　turn　to　birds　or　fruits　fall　in　autumn；



we　must　answer　exactly　as　the　fairy　godmother　would　answer



if　Cinderella　asked　her　why　mice　turned　to　horses　or　her　clothes



fell　from　her　at　twelve　o'clock。　We　must　answer　that　it　is　MAGIC。　



It　is　not　a　〃law；〃　for　we　do　not　understand　its　general　formula。　



It　is　not　a　necessity；　for　though　we　can　count　on　it　happening



practically；　we　have　no　right　to　say　that　it　must　always　happen。　



It　is　no　argument　for　unalterable　law　（as　Huxley　fancied）　that　we



count　on　the　ordinary　course　of　things。　　We　do　not　count　on　it；



we　bet　on　it。　　We　risk　the　remote　possibility　of　a　miracle　as　we



do　that　of　a　poisoned　pancake　or　a　world…destroying　comet。　



We　leave　it　out　of　account；　not　because　it　is　a　miracle；　and　therefore



an　impossibility；　but　because　it　is　a　miracle；　and　therefore



an　exception。　　All　the　terms　used　in　the　science　books；　〃law；〃



〃necessity；〃　〃order；〃　〃tendency；〃　and　so　on；　are　really　unintellectual；



because　they　assume　an　inner　synthesis；　which　we　do　not　possess。　



The　only　words　that　ever　satisfied　me　as　describing　Nature　are　the



terms　used　in　the　fairy　books；　〃charm；〃　〃spell；〃　〃enchantment。〃　



They　express　the　arbitrariness　of　the　fact　and　its　mystery。　



A　tree　grows　fruit　because　it　is　a　MAGIC　tree。　　Water　runs　downhill



because　it　is　bewitched。　　The　sun　shines　because　it　is　bewitched。







　　　　　I　deny　altogether　that　this　is　fantastic　or　even　mystical。　



We　may　have　some　mysticism　later　on；　but　this　fairy…tale　language



about　things　is　simply　rational　and　agnostic。　　It　is　the　only　way



I　can　express　in　words　my　clear　and　definite　perception　that　one



thing　is　quite　distinct　from　another；　that　there　is　no　logical



connection　between　flying　and　laying　eggs。　　It　is　the　man　who



talks　about　〃a　law〃　that　he　has　never　seen　who　is　the　mystic。　



Nay；　the　ordinary　scientific　man　is　strictly　a　sentimentalist。　



He　is　a　sentimentalist　in　this　essential　sense；　that　he　is　soaked



and　swept　away　by　mere　associations。　　He　has　so　often　seen　birds



fly　and　lay　eggs　that　he　feels　as　if　there　must　be　some　dreamy；



tender　connection　between　the　two　ideas；　whereas　there　is　none。　



A　forlorn　lover　might　be　unable　to　dissociate　the　moon　from　lost　love；



so　the　materialist　is　unable　to　dissociate　the　moon　from　the　tide。　



In　both　cases　there　is　no　connection；　except　that　one　has　seen



them　together。　　A　sentimentalist　might　shed　tears　at　the　smell



of　apple…blossom；　because；　by　a　dark　association　of　his　own；



it　reminded　him　of　his　boyhood。　　So　the　materialist　professor　（though



he　conceals　his　tears）　is　yet　a　sentimentalist；　because；　by　a　dark



association　of　his　own；　apple…blossoms　remind　him　of　apples。　　But　the



cool　rationalist　from　fairyland　does　not　see　why；　in　the　abstract；



the　apple　tree　should　not　grow　crimson　tulips；　it　sometimes　does　in



his　country。







　　　　　This　elementary　wonder；　however；　is　not　a　mere　fancy　derived



from　the　fairy　tales；　on　the　contrary；　all　the　fire　of　the　fairy



tales　is　derived　from　this。　　Just　as　we　all　like　love　tales　because



there　is　an　instinct　of　sex；　we　all　like　astonishing　tales　because



they　touch　the　nerve　of　the　ancient　instinct　of　astonishment。　



This　is　proved　by　the　fact　that　when　we　are　very　young　children



we　do　not　need　fairy　tales：　　we　only　need　tales。　　Mere　life　is



interesting　enough。　　A　child　of　seven　is　excited　by　being　told　that



Tommy　opened　a　door　and　saw　a　dragon。　　But　a　child　of　three　is　excited



by　being　told　that　Tommy　opened　a　door。　　Boys　like　romantic　tales；



but　babies　like　realistic　talesbecause　they　find　them　romantic。　



In　fact；　a　baby　is　about　the　only　person；　I　should　think；　to　whom



a　modern　realistic　novel　could　be　read　without　boring　him。　



This　proves　that　even　nursery　tales　only　echo　an　almost　pre…natal



leap　of　interest　and　amazement。　　These　tales　say　that　apples　were



golden　only　to　refresh　the　forgotten　moment　when　we　found　that　they



were　green。　　They　make　rivers　run　with　wine　only　to　make　us　remember；



for　one　wild　moment；　that　they　run　with　water。　　I　have　said　that　this



is　wholly　reasonable　and　even　agnostic。　　And；　indeed；　on　this　point



I　am　all　for　the　higher　agnosticism；　its　better　name　is　Ignorance。　



We　have　all　read　in　scientific　books；　and；　indeed；　in　all　romances；



the　story　of　the　man　who　has　forgotten　his　name。　　This　man　walks



about　the　streets　and　can　see　and　appreciate　everything；　only　he



cannot　remember　who　he　is。　　Well；　every　man　is　that　man　in　the　story。　



Every　man　has　forgotten　who　he　is。　　One　may　understand　the　cosmos；



but　never　the　ego；　the　self　is　more　distant　than　any　star。　



Thou　shalt　love　the　Lord　thy　God；　but　thou　shalt　not　know　thyself。　



We　are　all　under　the　same　mental　calamity；　we　have　all　forgotten



our　names。　　We　have　all　forgotten　what　we　really　are。　　All　that　we



call　common　sense　and　rationality　and　practicality　and　positivism



only　means　that　for　certain　dead　levels　of　our　life　we　forget



that　we　have　forgotten。　　All　that　we　call　spirit　and　art　and



ecstasy　only　means　that　for　one　awful　instant　we　remember　that



we　forget。







　　　　　But　though　（like　the　man　without　memory　in　the　novel）　we　walk　the



streets　with　a　sort　of　half…witted　admiration；　still　it　is　admiration。　



It　is　admiration　in　English　and　not　only　admiration　in　Latin。　



The　wonder　has　a　positive　element　of　praise。　　This　is　the　next



milestone　to　be　definitely　marked　on　our　road　through　fairyland。　



I　shall　speak　in　the　next　chapter　about　optimists　and　pessimists



in　their　intellectual　aspect；　so　far　as　they　have　one。　　Here　I　am　only



trying　to　describe　the　enormous　emotions　which　cannot　be　described。　



And　the　strongest　emotion　was　that　life　was　as　precious　as　it



was　puzzling。　　It　was　an　ecstasy　because　it　was　an　adventure；



it　was　an　adventure　because　it　was　an　opportunity。　　The　goodness



of　the　fairy　tale　was　not　affected　by　the　fact　that　there　might　be



more　dragons　than　princesses；　it　was　good　to　be　in　a　fairy　tale。　



The　test　of　all　happiness　is　gratitude；　and　I　felt　grateful；



though　I　hardly　knew　to　whom。　　Children　are　grateful　when　Santa



Claus　puts　in　their　stockings　gifts　of　toys　or　sweets。　　Could　I



not　be　grateful　to　Santa　Claus　when　he　put　in　my　stockings　the　gift



of　two　miraculous　legs？　　We　thank　people　for　birthday　presents



of　cigars　and　slippers。　　Can　I　thank　no　one　for　the　birthday　present



of　birth？