literature and art. This is not concerned with
brutal outbreaks of revenge which may be found on
both sides, or with chivalrous caprices of toleration,
which may also be found on both sides; it is concerned
with the inmost mentality of the two religions, which
must be understood in order to do justice to either.
The Moslem mind never tended to that mystical mode
of “loving yet leaving” with which Augustine
cried aloud upon the ancient beauty, or Dante said
farewell to Virgil when he left him in the limbo of
the pagans. The Moslem traditions, unlike the
medieval legends, do not suggest the image of a knight
who kissed Venus before he killed her. We see
in all the Christian ages this combination which is
not a compromise, but rather a complexity made by
two contrary enthusiasms; as when the Dark Ages copied
out the pagan poems while denying the pagan legends;
or when the popes of the Renascence imitated the Greek
temples while denying the Greek gods. This high
inconsistency is inconsistent with Islam. Islam,
as I have said, takes everything literally, and does
not know how to play with anything. And the
cause of the contrast is the historical cause of which
we must be conscious in all studies of this kind.
The Christian Church had from a very early date the
idea of reconstructing a whole civilisation, and even
a complex civilisation. It was the attempt to
make a new balance, which differed from the old balance
of the stoics of Rome; but which could not afford to
lose its balance any more than they. It differed
because the old system was one of many religions under
one government, while the new was one of many governments
under one religion. But the idea of variety
in unity remained though it was in a sense reversed.
A historical instinct made the men of the new Europe
try hard to find a place for everything in the system,
however much might be denied to the individual.
Christians might lose everything, but Christendom,
if possible, must not lose anything. The very
nature of Islam, even at its best, was quite different
from this. Nobody supposed, even subconsciously,
that Mahomet meant to restore ancient Babylon as medievalism
vaguely sought to restore ancient Rome. Nobody
thought that the builders of the Mosque of Omar had
looked at the Pyramids as the builders of St. Peter’s
might have looked at the Parthenon. Islam began
at the beginning; it was content with the idea that
it had a great truth; as indeed it had a colossal truth.
It was so huge a truth that it was hard to see it was
a half-truth.
Islam was a movement; that is why it has ceased to move. For a movement can only be a mood. It may be a very necessary movement arising from a very noble mood, but sooner or later it must find its level in a larger philosophy, and be balanced against other things. Islam was a reaction towards simplicity; it was a violent simplification, which turned out to be an over-simplification. Stevenson has somewhere one of his perfectly picked phrases