heretics-第21章
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in subjugation； like Ireland。 Sometimes it is a large thing
cohering out of many smaller things； like Italy。 Sometimes it
is a small thing breaking away from larger things； like Poland。
But in each and every case its quality is purely spiritual； or；
if you will； purely psychological。 It is a moment when five men
become a sixth man。 Every one knows it who has ever founded
a club。 It is a moment when five places become one place。
Every one must know it who has ever had to repel an invasion。
Mr。 Timothy Healy； the most serious intellect in the present
House of Commons； summed up nationality to perfection when
he simply called it something for which people will die；
As he excellently said in reply to Lord Hugh Cecil； 〃No one；
not even the noble lord； would die for the meridian of Greenwich。〃
And that is the great tribute to its purely psychological character。
It is idle to ask why Greenwich should not cohere in this spiritual
manner while Athens or Sparta did。 It is like asking why a man
falls in love with one woman and not with another。
Now； of this great spiritual coherence； independent of external
circumstances； or of race； or of any obvious physical thing； Ireland is
the most remarkable example。 Rome conquered nations； but Ireland
has conquered races。 The Norman has gone there and become Irish；
the Scotchman has gone there and become Irish； the Spaniard has gone
there and become Irish； even the bitter soldier of Cromwell has gone
there and become Irish。 Ireland； which did not exist even politically；
has been stronger than all the races that existed scientifically。
The purest Germanic blood； the purest Norman blood； the purest
blood of the passionate Scotch patriot； has not been so attractive
as a nation without a flag。 Ireland； unrecognized and oppressed；
has easily absorbed races； as such trifles are easily absorbed。
She has easily disposed of physical science； as such superstitions
are easily disposed of。 Nationality in its weakness has been
stronger than ethnology in its strength。 Five triumphant races
have been absorbed； have been defeated by a defeated nationality。
This being the true and strange glory of Ireland； it is impossible
to hear without impatience of the attempt so constantly made
among her modern sympathizers to talk about Celts and Celticism。
Who were the Celts？ I defy anybody to say。 Who are the Irish？
I defy any one to be indifferent； or to pretend not to know。
Mr。 W。 B。 Yeats； the great Irish genius who has appeared in our time；
shows his own admirable penetration in discarding altogether the argument
from a Celtic race。 But he does not wholly escape； and his followers
hardly ever escape； the general objection to the Celtic argument。
The tendency of that argument is to represent the Irish or the Celts
as a strange and separate race； as a tribe of eccentrics in
the modern world immersed in dim legends and fruitless dreams。
Its tendency is to exhibit the Irish as odd； because they see
the fairies。 Its trend is to make the Irish seem weird and wild
because they sing old songs and join in strange dances。
But this is quite an error； indeed； it is the opposite of the truth。
It is the English who are odd because they do not see the fairies。
It is the inhabitants of Kensington who are weird and wild
because they do not sing old songs and join in strange dances。
In all this the Irish are not in the least strange and separate；
are not in the least Celtic； as the word is commonly and popularly used。
In all this the Irish are simply an ordinary sensible nation；
living the life of any other ordinary and sensible nation
which has not been either sodden with smoke or oppressed by
money…lenders； or otherwise corrupted with wealth and science。
There is nothing Celtic about having legends。 It is merely human。
The Germans； who are （I suppose） Teutonic； have hundreds of legends；
wherever it happens that the Germans are human。 There is nothing
Celtic about loving poetry； the English loved poetry more； perhaps；
than any other people before they came under the shadow of the
chimney…pot and the shadow of the chimney…pot hat。 It is not Ireland
which is mad and mystic； it is Manchester which is mad and mystic；
which is incredible； which is a wild exception among human things。
Ireland has no need to play the silly game of the science of races；
Ireland has no need to pretend to be a tribe of visionaries apart。
In the matter of visions； Ireland is more than a nation； it is
a model nation。
XIV On Certain Modern Writers and the Institution of the Family
The family may fairly be considered； one would think； an ultimate
human institution。 Every one would admit that it has been
the main cell and central unit of almost all societies hitherto；
except； indeed； such societies as that of Lacedaemon； which went
in for 〃efficiency；〃 and has； therefore； perished； and left not
a trace behind。 Christianity； even enormous as was its revolution；
did not alter this ancient and savage sanctity； it merely reversed it。
It did not deny the trinity of father； mother； and child。
It merely read it backwards； making it run child； mother； father。
This it called； not the family； but the Holy Family；
for many things are made holy by being turned upside down。
But some sages of our own decadence have made a serious attack
on the family。 They have impugned it； as I think wrongly；
and its defenders have defended it； and defended it wrongly。
The common defence of the family is that； amid the stress
and fickleness of life； it is peaceful； pleasant； and at one。
But there is another defence of the family which is possible；
and to me evident； this defence is that the family is not peaceful
and not pleasant and not at one。
It is not fashionable to say much nowadays of the advantages of
the small community。 We are told that we must go in for large empires
and large ideas。 There is one advantage； however； in the small state；
the city； or the village； which only the wilfully blind can overlook。
The man who lives in a small community lives in a much larger world。
He knows much more of the fierce varieties and uncompromising divergences
of men。 The reason is obvious。 In a large community we can choose
our companions。 In a small community our companions are chosen for us。
Thus in all extensive and highly civilized societies groups come
into existence founded upon what is called sympathy； and shut
out the real world more sharply than the gates of a monastery。
There is nothing really narrow about the clan； the thing which is
really narrow is the clique。 The men of the clan live together
because they all wear the same tartan or are all descended
from the same sacred cow； but in their souls； by the divine luck
of things； there will always be more colours than in any tartan。
But the men of the clique live together because they have the same
kind of soul； and their narrowness is a narrowness of spiritual
coherence and contentment； like that which exists in hell。
A big society exists in order to form cliques。 A big society
is a society for the promotion of narrowness。 It is a machinery
for the purpose of guarding the solitary and sensitive individual
from all experience of the bitter and bracing human compromises。
It is； in the most literal sense of the words； a society for
the prevention of Christian knowledge。
We can see this change； for instance； in the modern transformation
of the thing called a club。 When London was smaller； and the parts
of London more self…contained and parochial； the club was what it
still is in villages； the opposite of what it is now in great cities。
Then the club was valued as a place where a man could be sociable。
Now the club is valued as a place where a man can be unsociable。
The more the enlargement and elaboration of our civilization goes
on the more the club ceases to be a place where a man can have
a noisy argument； and becomes more and more a place where a man
can have what is somewhat fantastically called a quiet chop。
Its aim is to make a man comfortable； and to make a man comfortable
is to make him the opposite of sociable。 Sociability； like all
good things； is full of discomforts； dangers； and renunciations。
The club tends to produce the most degraded of all combinations
the luxurious anchorite； the man who combines the self…indulgence
of Lucullus with the insane loneliness of St。 Simeon Stylites。
If we were to…morrow morning snowed up in the street in which we live；
we should step suddenly into a much larger and much wilder world
than we have ever known。 And it is the whole effort of the typically
modern person to escape from the street in which he lives。
First he invents modern hygiene and goes to Margate。
Then he invents modern culture and goes to Florence。
Then he invents modern imperialism and goes to Timbuctoo。 He goes
to the fantastic borders of the earth。 He pretends to shoot tigers。
He almost rides on a camel。 And in all this he is still essentially
fleeing from the street in which he was born； and of this flight
he is always ready with his own explanation。 He says he is fleeing
from his street because it is dull； he is lying。 He is really
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 feature
