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Celibacy is one flower in my father's garden； of which I have
not been told the sweet or terrible name。 But I may be told it
any day。
This； therefore； is； in conclusion； my reason for accepting
the religion and not merely the scattered and secular truths out
of the religion。 I do it because the thing has not merely told this
truth or that truth； but has revealed itself as a truth…telling thing。
All other philosophies say the things that plainly seem to be true；
only this philosophy has again and again said the thing that does
not seem to be true； but is true。 Alone of all creeds it is
convincing where it is not attractive； it turns out to be right；
like my father in the garden。 Theosophists for instance will preach
an obviously attractive idea like re…incarnation； but if we wait
for its logical results； they are spiritual superciliousness and the
cruelty of caste。 For if a man is a beggar by his own pre…natal sins；
people will tend to despise the beggar。 But Christianity preaches
an obviously unattractive idea； such as original sin； but when we
wait for its results； they are pathos and brotherhood； and a thunder
of laughter and pity； for only with original sin we can at once pity
the beggar and distrust the king。 Men of science offer us health；
an obvious benefit； it is only afterwards that we discover
that by health； they mean bodily slavery and spiritual tedium。
Orthodoxy makes us jump by the sudden brink of hell； it is only
afterwards that we realise that jumping was an athletic exercise
highly beneficial to our health。 It is only afterwards that we
realise that this danger is the root of all drama and romance。
The strongest argument for the divine grace is simply its ungraciousness。
The unpopular parts of Christianity turn out when examined to be
the very props of the people。 The outer ring of Christianity
is a rigid guard of ethical abnegations and professional priests；
but inside that inhuman guard you will find the old human life
dancing like children； and drinking wine like men； for Christianity
is the only frame for pagan freedom。 But in the modern philosophy
the case is opposite； it is its outer ring that is obviously
artistic and emancipated； its despair is within。
And its despair is this； that it does not really believe
that there is any meaning in the universe； therefore it cannot
hope to find any romance； its romances will have no plots。 A man
cannot expect any adventures in the land of anarchy。 But a man can
expect any number of adventures if he goes travelling in the land
of authority。 One can find no meanings in a jungle of scepticism；
but the man will find more and more meanings who walks through
a forest of doctrine and design。 Here everything has a story tied
to its tail； like the tools or pictures in my father's house；
for it is my father's house。 I end where I beganat the right end。
I have entered at last the gate of all good philosophy。 I have come
into my second childhood。
But this larger and more adventurous Christian universe has
one final mark difficult to express； yet as a conclusion of the whole
matter I will attempt to express it。 All the real argument about
religion turns on the question of whether a man who was born upside
down can tell when he comes right way up。 The primary paradox of
Christianity is that the ordinary condition of man is not his sane
or sensible condition； that the normal itself is an abnormality。
That is the inmost philosophy of the Fall。 In Sir Oliver Lodge's
interesting new Catechism； the first two questions were：
〃What are you？〃 and 〃What； then； is the meaning of the Fall of Man？〃
I remember amusing myself by writing my own answers to the questions；
but I soon found that they were very broken and agnostic answers。
To the question； 〃What are you？〃 I could only answer； 〃God knows。〃
And to the question； 〃What is meant by the Fall？〃 I could answer
with complete sincerity； 〃That whatever I am； I am not myself。〃
This is the prime paradox of our religion； something that we have
never in any full sense known； is not only better than ourselves；
but even more natural to us than ourselves。 And there is really
no test of this except the merely experimental one with which these
pages began； the test of the padded cell and the open door。 It is only
since I have known orthodoxy that I have known mental emancipation。
But； in conclusion； it has one special application to the ultimate idea
of joy。
It is said that Paganism is a religion of joy and Christianity
of sorrow； it would be just as easy to prove that Paganism is pure
sorrow and Christianity pure joy。 Such conflicts mean nothing and
lead nowhere。 Everything human must have in it both joy and sorrow；
the only matter of interest is the manner in which the two things
are balanced or divided。 And the really interesting thing is this；
that the pagan was （in the main） happier and happier as he approached
the earth； but sadder and sadder as he approached the heavens。
The gaiety of the best Paganism； as in the playfulness of Catullus
or Theocritus； is； indeed； an eternal gaiety never to be forgotten
by a grateful humanity。 But it is all a gaiety about the facts of life；
not about its origin。 To the pagan the small things are as sweet
as the small brooks breaking out of the mountain； but the broad things
are as bitter as the sea。 When the pagan looks at the very core of the
cosmos he is struck cold。 Behind the gods； who are merely despotic；
sit the fates； who are deadly。 Nay； the fates are worse than deadly；
they are dead。 And when rationalists say that the ancient world
was more enlightened than the Christian； from their point of view
they are right。 For when they say 〃enlightened〃 they mean darkened
with incurable despair。 It is profoundly true that the ancient world
was more modern than the Christian。 The common bond is in the fact
that ancients and moderns have both been miserable about existence；
about everything； while mediaevals were happy about that at least。
I freely grant that the pagans； like the moderns； were only miserable
about everythingthey were quite jolly about everything else。
I concede that the Christians of the Middle Ages were only at
peace about everythingthey were at war about everything else。
But if the question turn on the primary pivot of the cosmos；
then there was more cosmic contentment in the narrow and bloody
streets of Florence than in the theatre of Athens or the open garden
of Epicurus。 Giotto lived in a gloomier town