Charles Kingsley

Once upon a time there was a little chimney-sweep, and his name was Tom. That is a short name, and you have heard it before, so you will not have much trouble in remembering it. He lived in a great town in the North country, where there were plenty of chimneys to sweep, and plenty of money for Tom to earn and his master to spend. He could not read nor write, and did not care to do either; and he never washed himself, for there was no water up the court where he lived. He had never been taught to say his prayers. He never had heard of God, or of Christ, except in words which you never have heard, and which it would have been well if he had never heard. He cried half his time, and laughed the other half. He cried when he had to climb the dark flues, rubbing his poor knees and elbows raw; and when the soot got into his eyes, which it did every day in the week; and when his master beat him, which he did every day in the week; and when he had not enough to eat, which happened every day in the week likewise. And he laughed the other half of the day, when he was tossing halfpennies with the other boys, or playing leap-frog over the posts, or bowling stones at the horses’ legs as they trotted by, which last was excellent fun, when there was a wall at hand behind which to hide. As for chimney-sweeping, and being hungry, and being beaten, he took all that for the way of the world, like the rain and snow and thunder, and stood manfully with his back to it till it was over, as his old donkey did to a hail-storm; and then shook his ears and was as jolly as ever; and thought of the fine times coming, when he would be a man, and a master sweep, and sit in the public-house with a quart of beer and a long pipe, and play cards for silver money, and wear velveteens and ankle-jacks, and keep a white bull-dog with one gray ear, and carry her puppies in his pocket, just like a man.

Les hommes instruits n’ont-ils pas soutenu, jusque dans les vingt-cinq dernières années, que les dragons volants étaient des monstres imaginaires ? Et nous apprenons à présent qu’il en existe des centaines à l’état de fossiles, un peu partout dans le monde. Ils les appellent des ptérodactyles, mais c’est juste pour ne pas employer le terme « dragons volants », après avoir si longtemps nié leur existence.
En vérité, quand les gens s’imaginent que telle ou telle chose n’existe pas pour la seule raison qu’ils n’en ont jamais vu, cela n’a pas davantage de valeur que quand un sauvage s’imagine qu’il ne peut exister une chose qui s’appelle une locomotive, car il n’en a jamais vu aucune traverser furieusement la forêt. Les hommes sages savent que leur devoir est d’étudier ce qui est, et non de décider ce qui n’est pas. Ils savent qu’il existe des éléphants, qu’il a existé des dragons volants, et plus ils sont sages, moins ils se risqueront à affirmer qu’il n’existe pas de bébés-d’eau.
Des bébés-d’eau en vérité ! En effet, les sages anciens, disent que toute chose sur Terre, possède son double dans l’eau. Et vous pouvez voir que cette idée, même si elle n’est pas entièrement vraie, l’est bien autant que nombre de théories que l’on peut entendre chaque jour. Il y a des bébés terrestres, alors pourquoi pas des bébés-d’eau ?

J'entendis mille notes mélangées,
Tandis que dans un bosquet je m'assois allongé,
Dans cette douce humeur quand des pensées agréables
Apportent des pensées tristes à l'esprit.

A ses belles œuvres, la nature a lié
L'âme humaine qui à travers moi a couru ;
Et j'ai beaucoup de peine à penser
A ce que l'homme a fait de l'homme.