Contradiction in Terms
We pay higher and higher in proportion to the service rendered till we get to the highest services, such as becoming a Member of Parliament, and this must not be paid at all. If a man would go yet higher and found a new and permanent system, or create some new idea or work of art which remains to give delight to ages—he must not only not be paid, but he will have to pay very heavily out of his own pocket into the bargain.
Again, we are to get all men to speak well of us if we can; yet we are to be cursed if all men speak well of us.
So when the universe has gathered itself into a single ball (which I don’t for a moment believe it ever will, but I don’t care) it will no sooner have done so, than the bubble will burst and it will go back to its gases again.
Contradiction in terms is so omnipresent that we treat it as we treat death, or free-will, or fate, or air, or God, or the Devil—taking these things so much as matters of course that, though they are visible enough if we choose to see them, we neglect them normally altogether, without for a moment intending to deny their existence. This neglect is convenient as preventing repetitions the monotony of which would defeat their own purpose, but people are tempted nevertheless to forget the underlying omnipresence in the superficial omniabsence. They forget that its opposite lurks in everything—that there are harmonics of God in the Devil and harmonics of the Devil in God.
Contradiction in terms is not only to be excused but there can be no proposition which does not more or less involve one.
It is the fact of there being contradictions in terms, which have to be smoothed away and fused into harmonious acquiescence with their surroundings, that makes life and consciousness possible at all. Unless the unexpected were sprung upon us continually to enliven us we should pass life, as it were, in sleep. To a living being no “It is” can be absolute; wherever there is an “Is,” there, among its harmonics, lurks an “Is not.” When there is absolute absence of “Is not” the “Is” goes too. And the “Is not” does not go completely till the “Is” is gone along with it. Every proposition has got a skeleton in its cupboard.
Extremes
i
Intuition and evidence seem to have something of the same relation that faith and reason, luck and cunning, freewill and necessity and demand and supply have. They grow up hand in hand and no man can say which comes first. It is the same with life and death, which lurk one within the other as do rest and unrest, change and persistence, heat and cold, poverty and riches, harmony and counterpoint, night and day, summer and winter.