CHAPTER VI

A NOTE ON PRESENT PROSPECTS

On reconsidering these notes I find them to be far too personal; yet I

do not know how any conception of conversion can be anything else. I do

not profess to have any particular knowledge about the actual conditions

and calculations of the Catholic movement at the moment. I do not

believe that anybody else has any knowledge of what it will be like the

next moment. Statistics are generally misleading and predictions are

practically always false. But there is always a certain faint tradition

of the thing called common sense; and so long as a glimmer of it

remains, in spite of all journalism and State instruction, it is

possible to appreciate what we call a reality. Nobody in his five wits

will deny that at this moment conversion is a reality. Everybody knows

that his own social circle, which fifty years ago would have been a firm

territory of Protestantism, perhaps hardening into rationalism or

indifference but doing even that slowly and without conscious

convulsion, has just lately shown a curious disposition to collapse

softly and suddenly, first in one unexpected place and then in another,

making great holes in that solid land and letting up the leaping flames

of what was counted an extinct volcano. It is in everybody’s experience,

whether he is sad or glad or mad or merely indifferent, that these

conversions seem to come of themselves in the most curious and

apparently accidental quarters; Tom’s wife, Harry’s brother, Fanny’s

funny sister-in-law who went on the stage, Sam’s eccentric uncle who

studied military strategy—of each of these isolated souls we hear

suddenly that it is isolated no longer. It is one with the souls

militant and triumphant.

Against these things (which we know as facts and do not merely read as

statistics) there is admittedly something to be set. It is what is

commonly called leakage; and with a paragraph upon this point I will

close these pages. Father Ronald Knox, with that felicity that is so

good that the wit almost seems like good luck, has remarked that the

Catholic Church really does have to get on by hook or crook. That is, by

the hook of the fisherman and the crook of the shepherd; and it is the

hook that has to catch the convert and the crook that has to keep him.

He said in this connection that the conversions to the Church just now

were so numerous that they would be obvious and overwhelming, like a

landslide, if it were not that they were neutralised in mere numbers, or

rather lessened in their full claim of numbers, by a certain amount of

falling away in other directions. Now the first fact to realise is that

it is in other directions, in totally different directions. Some people,

especially young people, abandon practising Catholicism. But none of

them abandon it for Protestantism. All of them practically abandon it

for paganism. Most of them abandon it for something that is really

rather too simple to be called an _ism_ of any kind. They abandon it for

things and not theories; and when they do have theories they may

sometimes be Bolshevist theories or Futurist theories, but they are

practically never the theological theories of Protestantism. I will not

say they leave Catholicism for beer and skittles; for Catholicism has

never discouraged those Christian institutions as Protestantism

sometimes has. They leave it to have a high old time; and considering

what a muddle we have made of modern morality, they can hardly be

blamed. But this reaction, which is only that of a section, is in its

nature a reaction of the young and as such I do not think it will last.

I know it is the cant phrase of the old rationalists that their reason

prevents a return to the Faith, but it is false: it is no longer reason

but rather passion.

This may sound a sweeping statement, but if it be examined it will be

found not unjust, and certainly not unsympathetic. Nothing is more

notable if we really study the characteristics of the rising generation

than the fact that they are _not_ acting upon any exact and definite

philosophy, such as those which have made the revolutions of the past.

If they are anarchical, they are not anarchist. The dogmatic anarchism

of the middle of the nineteenth century is not the creed they hold, or

even the excuse they offer. They have a considerable negative revolt

against religion, a negative revolt against negative morality. They have

a feeling, which is not unreasonable, that to commit themselves to the

Catholic citizenship is to take responsibilities that continually act as

restraints. But they do not maintain anything like a contrary system of

spiritual citizenship, or moral responsibility. For instance, it is

perfectly natural that they should want to act naturally. But they do

not want to act naturally according to any intellectual theory of the

reliability of Nature. On the contrary, their young and brilliant

literary representatives are very prone to press upon us the crudity and

cruelty of Nature. That is the moral of Mr. Aldous Huxley, and of many

others. State to them any of the consistent theories of the supreme

claim of Nature upon us, such as the pantheistic idea of God in all

natural things; or the Nietzschean theory that nature is evolving

something with superior claims to our own; or any other definable

defence of the natural process itself, and they will almost certainly

reject it as something unproved or exploded. They do not want to have an

exact imitation of the laws of the physical universe; they want to have

their own way, a much more intelligible desire. But the result is that

they are, after all, at a disadvantage in face of those other young

people who have satisfied their reason by a scheme that makes the

universe reasonable.

For that is the very simple explanation of the affair. In so far as

there is really a secession among the young, it is but a part of the

same process as that conversion of the young, of which I wrote in the

first chapter. The rising generation sees the real issue; and those who

are ready for it rally, and those who are not ready for it scatter. But

there can be but one end to a war between a solid and a scattered army.

It is not a controversy between two philosophies, as was the Catholic

and the Calvinist, or the Catholic and the Materialist. It is a

controversy between philosophers and philanderers. I do not say it in

contempt; I have much more sympathy with the person who leaves the

Church for a love affair than with one who leaves it for a long-winded

German theory to prove that God is evil or that children are a sort of

morbid monkey. But the very laws of life are against the endurance of a

revolt that rests on nothing but natural passion; it is bound to change

in its proportion with the coming of experience; and, at the worst, it

will become a battle between bad Catholics and good Catholics, with the

great dome over all.

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Transcriber’s Notes

• Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.

• Typographical errors were silently corrected.

• Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when

a predominant form was found in this book.

• Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).

The Catholic Church and conversion · 第 6 / 6 章