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A common hesitation in our day touching the use of extreme convictions
is a sort of notion that extreme convictions specially upon cosmic matters,
have been responsible in the past for the thing which is called bigotry.
But a very small amount of direct experience will dissipate this view.
In real life the people who are most bigoted are the people
who have no convictions at all. The economists of the Manchester
school who disagree with Socialism take Socialism seriously.
It is the young man in Bond Street, who does not know what socialism
means much less whether he agrees with it, who is quite certain
that these socialist fellows are making a fuss about nothing.
The man who understands the Calvinist philosophy enough to agree with it
must understand the Catholic philosophy in order to disagree with it.
It is the vague modern who is not at all certain what is right
who is most certain that Dante was wrong. The serious opponent
of the Latin Church in history, even in the act of showing that it
produced great infamies, must know that it produced great saints.
It is the hard-headed stockbroker, who knows no history and
believes no religion, who is, nevertheless, perfectly convinced
that all these priests are knaves. The Salvationist at the Marble
Arch may be bigoted, but he is not too bigoted to yearn from
a common human kinship after the dandy on church parade.
But the dandy on church parade is so bigoted that he does not
in the least yearn after the Salvationist at the Marble Arch.
Bigotry may be roughly defined as the anger of men who have
no opinions. It is the resistance offered to definite ideas
by that vague bulk of people whose ideas are indefinite to excess.
Bigotry may be called the appalling frenzy of the indifferent.
This frenzy of the indifferent is in truth a terrible thing;
it has made all monstrous and widely pervading persecutions.
In this degree it was not the people who cared who ever persecuted;
the people who cared were not sufficiently numerous. It was the people
who did not care who filled the world with fire and oppression.
It was the hands of the indifferent that lit the faggots;
it was the hands of the indifferent that turned the rack. There have
come some persecutions out of the pain of a passionate certainty;
but these produced, not bigotry, but fanaticism--a very different
and a somewhat admirable thing. Bigotry in the main has always
been the pervading omnipotence of those who do not care crushing
out those who care in darkness and blood.
There are people, however, who dig somewhat deeper than this
into the possible evils of dogma. It is felt by many that strong
philosophical conviction, while it does not (as they perceive)
produce that sluggish and fundamentally frivolous condition which we
call bigotry, does produce a certain concentration, exaggeration,
and moral impatience, which we may agree to call fanaticism.
They say, in brief, that ideas are dangerous things.
In politics, for example, it is commonly urged against a man like
Mr. Balfour, or against a man like Mr. John Morley, that a wealth
of ideas is dangerous. The true doctrine on this point, again,
is surely not very difficult to state. Ideas are dangerous,
but the man to whom they are least dangerous is the man of ideas.
He is acquainted with ideas, and moves among them like a lion-tamer.
Ideas are dangerous, but the man to whom they are most dangerous
is the man of no ideas. The man of no ideas will find the first
idea fly to his head like wine to the head of a teetotaller.
It is a common error, I think, among the Radical idealists of my own
party and period to suggest that financiers and business men are a
danger to the empire because they are so sordid or so materialistic.
The truth is that financiers and business men are a danger to
the empire because they can be sentimental about any sentiment,
and idealistic about any ideal, any ideal that they find lying about.
just as a boy who has not known much of women is apt too easily
to take a woman for the woman, so these practical men, unaccustomed
to causes, are always inclined to think that if a thing is proved
to be an ideal it is proved to be the ideal. Many, for example,
avowedly followed Cecil Rhodes because he had a vision.
They might as well have followed him because he had a nose;
a man without some kind of dream of perfection is quite as much
of a monstrosity as a noseless man. People say of such a figure,
in almost feverish whispers, "He knows his own mind," which is exactly
like saying in equally feverish whispers, "He blows his own nose."
Human nature simply cannot subsist without a hope and aim
of some kind; as the sanity of the Old Testament truly said,
where there is no vision the people perisheth. But it is precisely
because an ideal is necessary to man that the man without ideals
is in permanent danger of fanaticism. There is nothing which is
so likely to leave a man open to the sudden and irresistible inroad
of an unbalanced vision as the cultivation of business habits.
All of us know angular business men who think that the earth is flat,
or that Mr. Kruger was at the head of a great military despotism,
or that men are graminivorous, or that Bacon wrote Shakespeare.
Religious and philosophical beliefs are, indeed, as dangerous
as fire, and nothing can take from them that beauty of danger.
But there is only one way of really guarding ourselves against
the excessive danger of them, and that is to be steeped in philosophy
and soaked in religion.
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