heretics- 第24部分

fleeing　from　his　street　because　it　is　a　great　deal　too　exciting。



It　is　exciting　because　it　is　exacting；　it　is　exacting　because　it　is　alive。



He　can　visit　Venice　because　to　him　the　Venetians　are　only　Venetians；



the　people　in　his　own　street　are　men。　　He　can　stare　at　the　Chinese



because　for　him　the　Chinese　are　a　passive　thing　to　be　stared　at；



if　he　stares　at　the　old　lady　in　the　next　garden；　she　becomes　active。



He　is　forced　to　flee；　in　short；　from　the　too　stimulating　society



of　his　equalsof　free　men；　perverse；　personal；　deliberately　different



from　himself。　　The　street　in　Brixton　is　too　glowing　and　overpowering。



He　has　to　soothe　and　quiet　himself　among　tigers　and　vultures；



camels　and　crocodiles。　　These　creatures　are　indeed　very　different



from　himself。　　But　they　do　not　put　their　shape　or　colour　or



custom　into　a　decisive　intellectual　competition　with　his　own。



They　do　not　seek　to　destroy　his　principles　and　assert　their　own；



the　stranger　monsters　of　the　suburban　street　do　seek　to　do　this。



The　camel　does　not　contort　his　features　into　a　fine　sneer



because　Mr。　Robinson　has　not　got　a　hump；　the　cultured　gentleman



at　No。　5　does　exhibit　a　sneer　because　Robinson　has　not　got　a　dado。



The　vulture　will　not　roar　with　laughter　because　a　man　does　not　fly；



but　the　major　at　No。　9　will　roar　with　laughter　because　a　man　does



not　smoke。　　The　complaint　we　commonly　have　to　make　of　our　neighbours



is　that　they　will　not；　as　we　express　it；　mind　their　own　business。



We　do　not　really　mean　that　they　will　not　mind　their　own　business。



If　our　neighbours　did　not　mind　their　own　business　they　would　be　asked



abruptly　for　their　rent；　and　would　rapidly　cease　to　be　our　neighbours。



What　we　really　mean　when　we　say　that　they　cannot　mind　their　own



business　is　something　much　deeper。　　We　do　not　dislike　them



because　they　have　so　little　force　and　fire　that　they　cannot



be　interested　in　themselves。　　We　dislike　them　because　they　have



so　much　force　and　fire　that　they　can　be　interested　in　us　as　well。



What　we　dread　about　our　neighbours；　in　short；　is　not　the　narrowness



of　their　horizon；　but　their　superb　tendency　to　broaden　it。　　And　all



aversions　to　ordinary　humanity　have　this　general　character。　　They　are



not　aversions　to　its　feebleness　（as　is　pretended）；　but　to　its　energy。



The　misanthropes　pretend　that　they　despise　humanity　for　its　weakness。



As　a　matter　of　fact；　they　hate　it　for　its　strength。







Of　course；　this　shrinking　from　the　brutal　vivacity　and　brutal



variety　of　common　men　is　a　perfectly　reasonable　and　excusable



thing　as　long　as　it　does　not　pretend　to　any　point　of　superiority。



It　is　when　it　calls　itself　aristocracy　or　aestheticism　or　a　superiority



to　the　bourgeoisie　that　its　inherent　weakness　has　in　justice



to　be　pointed　out。　　Fastidiousness　is　the　most　pardonable　of　vices；



but　it　is　the　most　unpardonable　of　virtues。　　Nietzsche；　who　represents



most　prominently　this　pretentious　claim　of　the　fastidious；



has　a　description　somewherea　very　powerful　description　in　the



purely　literary　senseof　the　disgust　and　disdain　which　consume



him　at　the　sight　of　the　common　people　with　their　common　faces；



their　common　voices；　and　their　common　minds。　　As　I　have　said；



this　attitude　is　almost　beautiful　if　we　may　regard　it　as　pathetic。



Nietzsche's　aristocracy　has　about　it　all　the　sacredness　that　belongs



to　the　weak。　　When　he　makes　us　feel　that　he　cannot　endure　the



innumerable　faces；　the　incessant　voices；　the　overpowering　omnipresence



which　belongs　to　the　mob；　he　will　have　the　sympathy　of　anybody



who　has　ever　been　sick　on　a　steamer　or　tired　in　a　crowded　omnibus。



Every　man　has　hated　mankind　when　he　was　less　than　a　man。



Every　man　has　had　humanity　in　his　eyes　like　a　blinding　fog；



humanity　in　his　nostrils　like　a　suffocating　smell。　　But　when　Nietzsche



has　the　incredible　lack　of　humour　and　lack　of　imagination　to　ask　us



to　believe　that　his　aristocracy　is　an　aristocracy　of　strong　muscles　or



an　aristocracy　of　strong　wills；　it　is　necessary　to　point　out　the　truth。



It　is　an　aristocracy　of　weak　nerves。







We　make　our　friends；　we　make　our　enemies；　but　God　makes　our



next…door　neighbour。　　Hence　he　comes　to　us　clad　in　all　the　careless



terrors　of　nature；　he　is　as　strange　as　the　stars；　as　reckless　and



indifferent　as　the　rain。　　He　is　Man；　the　most　terrible　of　the　beasts。



That　is　why　the　old　religions　and　the　old　scriptural　language　showed



so　sharp　a　wisdom　when　they　spoke；　not　of　one's　duty　towards　humanity；



but　one's　duty　towards　one's　neighbour。　　The　duty　towards　humanity　may



often　take　the　form　of　some　choice　which　is　personal　or　even　pleasurable。



That　duty　may　be　a　hobby；　it　may　even　be　a　dissipation。



We　may　work　in　the　East　End　because　we　are　peculiarly　fitted　to　work



in　the　East　End；　or　because　we　think　we　are；　we　may　fight　for　the　cause



of　international　peace　because　we　are　very　fond　of　fighting。



The　most　monstrous　martyrdom；　the　most　repulsive　experience；　may　be



the　result　of　choice　or　a　kind　of　taste。　　We　may　be　so　made　as　to　be



particularly　fond　of　lunatics　or　specially　interested　in　leprosy。



We　may　love　negroes　because　they　are　black　or　German　Socialists　because



they　are　pedantic。　　But　we　have　to　love　our　neighbour　because　he　is　there



a　much　more　alarming　reason　for　a　much　more　serious　operation。



He　is　the　sample　of　humanity　which　is　actually　given　us。



Precisely　because　he　may　be　anybody　he　is　everybody。



He　is　a　symbol　because　he　is　an　accident。







Doubtless　men　flee　from　small　environments　into　lands　that　are



very　deadly。　　But　this　is　natural　enough；　for　they　are　not　fleeing



from　death。　　They　are　fleeing　from　life。　　And　this　principle



applies　to　ring　within　ring　of　the　social　system　of　humanity。



It　is　perfectly　reasonable　that　men　should　seek　for　some　particular



variety　of　the　human　type；　so　long　as　they　are　seeking　for　that



variety　of　the　human　type；　and　not　for　mere　human　variety。



It　is　quite　proper　that　a　British　diplomatist　should　seek　the　society



of　Japanese　generals；　if　what　he　wants　is　Japanese　generals。



But　if　what　he　wants　is　people　different　from　himself；　he　had　much



better　stop　at　home　and　discuss　religion　with　the　housemaid。



It　is　quite　reasonable　that　the　village　genius　should　come　up　to　conquer



London　if　what　he　wants　is　to　conquer　London。　　But　if　he　wants　to　conquer



something　fundamentally　and　symbolically　hostile　and　also　very　strong；



he　had　much　better　remain　where　he　is　and　have　a　row　with　the　rector。



The　man　in　the　suburban　street　is　quite　right　if　he　goes　to



Ramsgate　for　the　sake　of　Ramsgatea　difficult　thing　to　imagine。



But　if；　as　he　expresses　it；　he　goes　to　Ramsgate　〃for　a　change；〃



then　he　would　have　a　much　more　romantic　and　even　melodramatic



change　if　he　jumped　over　the　wall　into　his　neighbours　garden。



The　consequences　would　be　bracing　in　a　sense　far　beyond　the　possibilities



of　Ramsgate　hygiene。







Now；　exactly　as　this　principle　applies　to　the　empire；　to　the　nation



within　the　empire；　to　the　city　within　the　nation；　to　the　street



within　the　city；　so　it　applies　to　the　home　within　the　street。



The　institution　of　the　family　is　to　be　commended　for　precisely



the　same　reasons　that　the　institution　of　the　nation；　or　the



institution　of　the　city；　are　in　this　matter　to　be　commended。



It　is　a　good　thing　for　a　man　to　live　in　a　family　for　the　same　reason



that　it　is　a　good　thing　for　a　man　to　be　besieged　in　a　city。



It　is　a　good　thing　for　a　man　to　live　in　a　family　in　the　same　sense　that　it



is　a　beautiful　and　delightful　thing　for　a　man　to　be　snowed　up　in　a　street。



They　all　force　him　to　realize　that　life　is　not　a　thing　from　outside；



but　a　thing　from　inside。　　Above　all；　they　all　insist　upon　the　fact



that　life；　if　it　be　a　truly　stimulating　and　fascinating　life；



is　a　thing　which；　of　its　nature；　exists　in　spite　of　ourselves。



The　modern　writers　who　have　suggested；　in　a　more　or　less　open　manner；



that　the　family　is　a　bad　institution；　have　generally　confined



themselves　to　suggesting；　with　much　sharpness；　bitterness；　or　pathos；



that　perhaps　the　family　is　not　always　very　congenial。



Of　course　the　family　is　a　good　institution　because　it　is　uncongenial。



It　is　wholesome　precisely　because　it　contains　so　many



divergencies　and　varieties。　　It　is；　as　the　sentimentalists　say；



like　a　little　kingdom；　and；　like　most　other　little　kingdoms；



is　generally　in　a　state　of　something　resembling　anarchy。



It　is　exactly　because　our　brother　George　is　not　interested　in　our



religious　difficulties；　but　is　interested　in　the　Trocadero　Restaurant；



that　the　family　has　some　of　the　bracing　qualities　of　the　commonwealth。



It　is　precisely　because　our　uncle　Henry　does　not　approve　of　the　theatrical



ambitions　of　our　sister　Sarah　that　the　family　is　like　humanity。



The　men　and　women　who；　for　good　reasons　and　bad；　revolt　against　the　family；



are；　for　good　reasons　and　bad；　simply　revolting　against　mankind。



Aunt　Elizabeth　is　unreasonable；　like　mankind。　　Papa　is　excitable；



like　mankind　Our　youngest　brother　is　mischievous；　like　mankind。



Grandpapa　is　stupid；　like　the　world；　he　is　old；　like　the　world。







Those　who　wish；　rightly　or　wrongly；　to　step　out　of　all　this；



do　definitely　wish　to　step　into　a　narrower　world。　　They　are



dismayed　and　terrified　by　the　largeness　and　variety　of　the　family。



Sarah　wishes　to　find　a　world　wholly　consisting　of　private　theatricals；



George　wishes　to　think　the　Trocadero　a　cosmos。　　I　do　not　say；



for　a　moment；　that　the　flight　to　this　narrower　life　may　not　be



the