There are some very clever people who cannot enjoy the joy unless
they understand it. There are other and even cleverer people
who say that they lose the joy the moment they do understand it.
Thank God I was never clever, and I could always enjoy things when I
understood them and when I didn't. I can enjoy the orthodox Tory, though I
could never understand him. I can also enjoy the orthodox Liberal,
though I understand him only too well.
But the splendour of furrowed fields is this: that like all
brave things they are made straight, and therefore they bend.
In everything that bows gracefully there must be an effort at stiffness.
Bows arc beautiful when they bend only because they try to remain rigid;
and sword-blades can curl like silver ribbons only because they are
certain to spring straight again. But the same is true of every tough
curve of the tree-trunk, of every strong-backed bend of the bough;
there is hardly any such thing in Nature as a mere droop of weakness.
Rigidity yielding a little, like justice swayed by mercy,
is the whole beauty of the earth. The cosmos is a diagram just
bent beautifully out of shape. Everything tries to be straight;
and everything just fortunately fails.
The foil may curve in the lunge, but there is nothing beautiful
about beginning the battle with a crooked foil. So the strict aim,
the strong doctrine, may give a little in the actual fight with facts:
but that is no reason for beginning with a weak doctrine or a
twisted aim.
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