MORAL EVOLUTION BY GEORGE HARRIS PROFESSOR IN ANDOVER THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY UII7IRSITT BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY (be fitoersibe press, Cam6nD0e 1896 5 Copyright, 1896, BY GEORGE HARRIS. All rights reserved. SECOND EDITION. The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghtou & Co. PKEFACE THE purpose of this book, as stated in the first chapter, is to establish the harmony of personal and social morality with the facts of evolution. The unity of the entire process of development, even in respect to tendencies which seem to con- flict, is recognized. The discussion has been wrought out in obedi- ence to the impulse which seizes every one who has discovered, or believes he has discovered, a truth, or the clue to a truth, the impulse of communication. The author has not gone into the technicalities of science nor into the abstractions of philosophy, but has attempted to set forth his conclusions and reasons with as much clearness, directness, and concreteness as possible. The distinctiveness of the book, if it has any, is the recovery of self from the mistaken neglect into which it has fallen at the hands of many philosophers, to its proper value. Self-preserva- tion, with all its incident evils of struggle, waste, and cruelty, is shown to be in the line of progress, and an essential condition of progress. The so- cial, sympathetic, altruistic feelings are not forced iv PREFACE. to bear all the mighty burden of human advance- ment. Social regeneration is not allowed, with the author's consent, to overbalance personal good. The two values, the personal and the social, are carried along together from the beginning to the end of the volume, even as they are inseparable from the beginning to the end of moral evolu- tion. ANDOVEB, MASSACHUSETTS, January, 1896. CONTENTS CHAPTER I EVOLUTION AND ETHICS I. Evolution Accepted 1 II. Revival of Ethical Studies .... 4 III. Time Ripe for Adjustment ... 7 IV. Antagonism . . . . . . . 11 V. Independence 13 VI. Identity 21 VII. Harmony 26 CHAPTER II PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY I. Society and Persons 30 II. Heredity 32 III. Knowledge Transmitted 33 IV. Dependence on Contemporaries ... 36 V. Increase of Social Functions . . .37 VI. Development of Personality .... 39 VII. Great Men 45 VIII. Institutions and Individuals .... 49 IX. Limitations 52 CHAPTER III THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD I. An Ideal Essential 54 II. Historical Ethics 59 III. The Ideal Personal 62 IV. The Ideal is the Good 64 V. Worth 64 VI. Happiness 72 VII. Personal and Social . . . . . .76 vi CONTENTS CHAPTER IV THE MORAL LAW THE BIGHT I. The Imperative of Right 82 II. The Right and the Good .... 84 , III. Law ; Duty ; Obligation 86 IV. Good and Right Correlative 88 V. The Uniting Principle 93 VI. Origin of Obligation 96 VII. Conscience 104 CHAPTER V THE HAPPINESS THEORY I. Various Forms 108 II. The Hedonistic Theory 109 III. Pleasures Comparable ..... 110 IV. Happiness Measurable ..... 112 V. Not Gained by Seeking 114 VI. Satisfaction 117 VII. Utilitarianism 122 VIII. Agreement 126 CHAPTER VI SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM I. Sympathy and Self-Regard .... 130 II. Self 134 III. Self-Love 138 IV. Self-Realization 141 V. Altruism 146 VI. Altruism Receptive and Reflex ... 148 VII. The Mutual Relation 153 CHAPTER VII ETHICS AND EVOLUTION I. The Common Principle 156 II. Progressive Realization ..... 159 III. Morality and Sympathy 164 CONTENTS , vii IV. Self-Assertion and Struggle . . .167 V. Perversion Incidental 173 VI. The Higher Values 177 VII. The Twofold Relation 181 CHAPTER VIII MORALITY AND RELIGION I. Reason in the Universe 185 II. The Moral Order of History .... 189 III. The Ideal Order of Humanity . . . .195 IV. The Imperative of Duty . . . .202 V. Moral Law Universal 203 VI. The Righteousness of God . . . .205 VII. Morality without Religion . . . . 207 VIII. Historically Together . . . . '. 212 IX.. Religion Inspires Morality 215 X. Morality and Immortality .... 216 CHAPTER IX THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL I. Principles Instead of Rules .... 220 II. Personal and Social 221 III. Individualism 222 IV. The Worth of the Person .... 224 V. The Character of Jesus 226 VI. The Law of Love 229 VII. Eternal Life 232 VIII. The Ideal Perfect and Final .... 237 IK. A Present Reality 238 X. From Person to Society 244 CHAPTER X THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL I. The Kingdom of God 248 II. Fulfillment 252 III. The Kingdom Universal . . . .255 IV. The Forms of Righteousness . . . .256 viii CONTENTS V. Related Personalities 260 VI. The Kingdom Established 264 VII. Real and Ideal 266 CHAPTER XI DEGENERATION I. A Theme of Literature 271 II. Degeneration and Evolution .... 273 III. Fact and Extent 275 IV. Abnormity ........ 278 V. Freedom . . . . ' . . . .285 VI. Moral Power not Destroyed .... 293 CHAPTER XII PERSONAL REGENERATION I. Recovery 299 II. Self-Impartation of Jesus .... 303 III. The Obedience of Jesus 311 IV. The Ever-Living Christ 314 V. Faith 316 VI. Conflict and Reciprocity .... 319 VII. The Positive Method 328 CHAPTER XIII SOCIAL REGENERATION ECONOMICS I. Economics and Ethics ..... 332 II. Material Values 335 III. Moral Values 340 IV. Competition 346 V. Specific Evils 350 VI. Correction of Evils 353 CHAPTER XIV SOCIAL REGENERATION INSTITUTIONS I. The Family 362 II. The State Democracy 368 CONTENTS , ix III. The Church .375 IV. Relation of Institutions 379 V. Church and State 382 VI. Religion in Public Schools 385 VII. Rate of Social Progress 388 CHAPTER XV ETHICS AND THEOLOGY I. Prejudice against Theology .... 391 II. Historical Review 392 III. Nomism and Antinomianism . . ... 395 IV. Sovereignty and Fatherhood .... 399 V. The Humanity of Christ . . . .403 VI. Total Depravity 405 VII. Redemption 407 VIII. The Kingdom of God 408 CHAPTER XVI CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION I. Revelation 410 II. The Idea of God 415 III. Sin 418 IV. The Character of Jesus 419 V. Immanence of the Spirit .... 422 VI. Immortality 423 VII. The Evolution of Religion .... 424 VIII. The Person of Christ 427 IX. Miracles and Resurrection .... 432 CONCLUSION The Path and the Goal . 440 MORAL EVOLUTION CHAPTER I EVOLUTION AND ETHICS THESE words designate two of the most impor- tant, possibly the two most important interests of the present time. Their general relation will be indicated in this chapter, and their specific mean- ing and connection in the chapters which follow. One dominant factor in thought, without doubt, is evolution, which thirty years ago was a theory advocated by a few biologists and opposed by others, but which is now adopted by all scientific authorities and accepted by the vast majority of educated men. A generation ago it was an hypo- thesis presented in scientific treatises and in tech- nical terms. To-day it is taught in the colleges, illustrated in magazines, popularized on the plat- form, and recognized even in the pulpit. The method of evolution has, indeed, become so fa- miliar that the word is overworked and misap- plied, as is usually the case when the theory for which a phrase stands makes rapid way into general acceptance. The locomotive is spoken of 2 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS as an evolution from the stage-coach, although they are purely mechanical contrivances without organic connection, the evolution being in the brain of man. To every sort of improvement, and to every observed relation of cause and effect, evo- lutionary terms are applied. This inexact applica- tion, or rather misapplication, indicates both the familiarity and the popularity of the theory. And, indeed, in its exact signification and within its proper limits, it takes rank as a universal method. For no existence is detached. All things are in relation. There is an all-embracing unity. The world is a cosmos, a universe. The stability which is conserved and the change which is promoted are in accordance with a development which includes the inorganic as well as the organic, and is not in- applicable to the planetary and stellar systems. The various features of organic evolution, charac- terized as natural selection, struggle for existence, survival of the fittest, and to which reproduction and cooperation should be added, are coextensive with all forms of life. These laws of vegetable and animal life have furnished the clue to the origin and progress of man. The human species came into existence, not by abrupt creation in entire independence of preexisting animals, but by evolution from them through organic deriva- tion. The dominant races, it is believed, have gained and held their place by a fierce struggle, which, on the lower plane of savagery, proceeded by wars of extermination ; on the higher plane of civilization, by foreign conquest, acquisition of territory, and the skill of diplomacy. Industrial EVOLUTION ACCEPTED , 3 and commercial advantage has been gained by clever inventions and by competition. The ad- vance of the toilers has been made by struggle with landholders, by agrarian revolutions, by the organized conflict of labor with capital. Thus every chapter of history is read, and this term, evolution, is applied to every institution, custom, and legal code. There are books on the evolution of industry, the evolution of art, of music, of ar- chitecture, of philosophy, of morality, of religion. This law is carried upwards and outwards till it is seen to be as comprehensive as the law of gravita- tion. No one claims that organic development was unknown until thirty years ago. The birth and growth of individuals, the influence of heredity, the history of nations, the phenomena of physical nature, have been interpreted in philosophies, cosmogonies, and sciences, some of which are very ancient. The tradition of Genesis depicted six successive days of ascending orders, rather than creation in a single day or by an instantaneous stroke. But evolution is new and distinctive as a theory of the derivation of one species from an- other, of the descent of man from inferior animals, of the progress of man in his habits, arts, morality, and religion, in accordance with the methods which control the development of all life below and around him. Evolution, then, is regarded as a dominant factor in the interpretation of human origins and human history. It has become an im- portant interest, both in the extent of its applica- tion and as readjusting and even revolutionizing long-accepted theories of man and society. [UIIVIRSXTY 4 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS II The other interest, almost as commanding in recognized importance, is morality. During the same period there has been a genuine revival of the study of ethics. Treatises on the science and philosophy of morality have multiplied in England, Germany, France, and America. In England especially, the most eminent authors are writers on ethics. The names of Mill, Sidgwick, Stephen, Green, Martineau, and others, have distinction chiefly by their works on the history and principles of morality. Discussion has proceeded in advocacy of one system as against another, with differences appar- ently radical, yet with the result of establishing in all the systems essential elements which had been minimized, ignored, or denied on the one side, and exaggerated or over-emphasized on the other. The intuitive philosophy of morality has been modified by wider knowledge of the historical development of moral sentiments, of the variety and advance of moral standards, of certain correspondences of men with lower orders, of heredity, of pleasure and pain as determining motives, and the like. The utilitarian philosophy of morality has been modi- fied by clearer perception of the lofty ideals that sway conduct, of the imperative of conscience, of the sharp distinction practically made between happiness and virtue, of the difficulty of applying its own standard to the finest and noblest good- ness, and of other kindred considerations. That is, a reconstruction of theories of morality has been going on, and partly by the aid of evolution. REVIVAL OF ETHICAL STUDIES 5 One result is the interpretation of all the move- ments of human progress ethically. When a short perspective covering a century is taken, it is seen that each separate line of advance has been largely or wholly moral. The industrial and economic movement in respect to increase of wages, the standard of comfort, the rights and safety of laborers, the care of the unproductive classes, has -. meant right and wrong as well as profit and loss. ' It is no longer held that political economy is a non- ethical science. Marshall and other writers find in the moral life and relations an essential element of material prosperity. The political movement in democracy, in government by the people for the people, in the effective administration of justice, in the restriction of vice, in the protection of the family, and in the very conception of the State as the institute of rights, has meant morality as truly as it has meant finance, or tariffs, or public office, which indeed, in the last analysis, are moral inter- ests. Even the modifications of religious beliefs are found to consist largely in the rejection of immoral notions, and the recovery of the moral value of doctrine. When a longer perspective is taken, and the range sweeps into prehistoric and savage conditions, the advance which can be traced is seen to be moral progress. The evolution of the monogamic family from polygamy, consolida- tion into tribes affording protection and adminis- tering a rude justice, alliances of tribes in coopera- tion, transition from the nomadic life of hunting to the settled life of grazing and agriculture, the religious or even superstitious belief in higher 6 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS powers, and all that converts savagery into barbar- ism and barbarism into civilization, are progress in morality. /The advance from lower to higher civilization is moral advance, in liberation of the masses from slavery, serfdom, and feudalism ; in the emancipation of women and children from legal disabilities; in adequate and sympathetic support of the defective and dependent ; in the re- formation as well as punishment of the delinquent ; in the decline of the warlike spirit, although, or because, the engines of war become more destruc- tive ; in the growth of international comity ; in the cessation of religious persecution, and in freedom of religious opinion. Progress is traced, not only in improvement of material appliances, in swifter locomotion, in the thousand-fold multiplication of the power of muscle by the power of machine, in conversion of the mighty and invisible forces of nature to be the thralls of man, but also and chiefly in moral reforms, in education, culture, taste, refinement, and pure religion, from which material masteries are by no means separate. The moral movement, like the evolutional, is observed in every direction, backwards in history to the ancient nations, outwards to the savage tribes, downwards to, or even into, the animal societies ; extensively, to all families, tribes, and races, in- tensively, to all the conditions of society, indus- trial, political, educational, aesthetic, and religious. A curious illustration of the tendency to inter- pret history and progress ethically may be found, by way of contrast, in a book which, at the time of its publication in 1857, created a sensation in Eng- TIME RIPE FOR ADJUSTMENT 7 land and America, and made its author famous. 1 Mr. Buckle maintained that progress is wholly due to intellectual and not at all to moral causes. Morality, he argued, is stationary. There is no perceptible difference in the moral sentiments and standards of modern and ancient peoples, but intellectually there has been marked advance. The progress of civilization, he affirmed, is owing, not to the stationary, but to the moving agent. What is regarded as moral improvement is due to intel- lectual discoveries and attainments, as, for example, the decline of the warlike spirit by reason of the discovery of gunpowder and the modern science of political economy. But now, to say nothing of the absurdity of dividing the nature of man into stationary and advancing parts, especially when the parts are mutually dependent, it is a favorite tenet of science that there has been an uninter- rupted development of morality ; that it originated in the reproductive and social instincts of animals ; that each moral sentiment and practice established itself as an advantage in the long struggle of the human species for existence and supremacy ; that intellectual and moral progress have gone hand in hand up to the present moment, or indeed are two constant phases of one and the same thing. in The time is now ripe for determining the rela- tion of these important interests. Adjustment waits for, but necessarily follows, recognition of 1 History of Civilization in England. By Henry Thomas Buckle. 8 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS values. Hitherto evolution and ethics, with a cer- tain independence of each other, have been work- ing their way to clearness and certainty. Each has been almost exclusively occupied in substanti- ating its own truth. Investigation has been busy in the verification of theory. Students have been absorbed in collating facts, weighing objections^ modifying hypotheses, and giving exact definition to principles. Adjustment of the one value withi the other could not be attempted until each value was known for what it is. Evolution and ethic^ could not at any time lose sight of each other/ The material of each all along was found partly in the other. Yet, until each had vindicated itself, had established its own essential truth, and had won its way to general acceptance, there could be no satisfactory settlement of accounts. But when theory has passed from the tentative to the as- sured stage, when it has made its way from the schools into intelligent and popular recognition, then adjustment of it to the sum of knowledge, and to other accepted principles, is demanded with pressing insistence. While thoughtful and honest minds were still asking whether the theory of evolution is demonstrated or not, it was prema- ture either to antagonize it or appropriate it in the interest of other principles. While students of ethics were debating with one another about the significance of elements which had been ignored or overworked, and until the necessary reconstruc- tion of ethics had been accomplished, there could be no satisfactory harmonizing with evolution. And although there is not the unanimity of opin- TIME RIPE FOR ADJUSTMENT 9 ion which obtains in respect to evolution, nor per- haps ever can be, yet certain principles have be- come so well established that the ethical theories which cling to different names are in an agree- ment larger than is commonly supposed. The two great interests now know each other well enough to enter into conference. They are within speak- ing distance and on speaking terms. Like mercy and truth, they are met together, even if, like right- eousness and peace, they have not yet kissed each other. The last three or four years have, therefore, witnessed the appearance of treatises on the rela- tion of the two values. There are books on evolu- tion and ethics, the evolution of ethics, the ethics of evolution, the evolution of morality, and evo- lutional theories of ethics. Nearly all of these dis- cussions have approached morality from the evolu- tionary point of view. The books are written by scientists, or upon the basis of scientific theory. But it is important to stand in both points of view, in order to hear what morality says to evolution as well as what evolution says to morality. Ethics, indeed, being the older science, may be expected, in courtesy, to take the initiative, and to show cor- diality to the newcomer who appears with the proper scientific and philosophical credentials. I therefore approach the discussion from the ethical side. I have studied ethics with some careful- ness, and have reached certain conclusions. The theory of evolution I accept, and accept heartily, on the agreeing authority of its acknowledged interpreters, but without professing to be an inves- 10 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS tigator of the facts. I therefore come from ethics, of which I am a student, to evolution, in which 1 am a believer, in imitation of scientists who come from the evolution they have tested to the ethics they have accepted. I find in evolution correspond- ences to the moral customs and convictions of men, correspondences which amount to conditions of morality, and I find them even in those features of evolution which have been considered foreign or hostile to morality. The moral is based, not only on the sympathetic feelings, which exist in lower orders, but as truly on the self-regarding feelings. Kegard of self being as truly moral as regard of others, the relation of morality to evolution is not limited to the sympathetic feelings. The percep- tion that self-preservation, self-assertion, self-en- joyment, and self-perfection, which constitute one hemisphere of morality, have a vital relation to the fundamental facts of evolution even the facts of natural selection and survival of the fittest has been to me in the nature of a discovery, both as to the truth and the value of the relation. In those elements of morality I find the reconcilia- tion of conflicting theories of ethics, as well as the larger harmony of ethical with evolutionary doc- trine. The impulse has therefore become strong upon me to set forth these elements of morality in themselves and in their relation to development, in the hope that the truth I have found may be made clear and helpful to others. This book is cast into the stream of discussion to contribute the modicum of truth it may contain, and to receive correction, if need be, of its errors and limitations. While the ANTA u following chapters are not directed at every point to the relation of the two great interests, yet the study of the principles of ethics, even in their highest development under Christianity, will fur- nish material and criteria for determining the relation of morality and evolution. There are four possible relations between evolu- tion and ethics. They may be regarded as antago- nistic, as independent, as identical, or as harmo- nious. Every one of these four relations has in fact been supposed to exist, and has had its advo- cates. They are briefly indicated at this point in the order named, so as to clear the way for the discussion, later on, of that relation which I be- lieve to be the true relation. IV Evolution and morality are regarded by some ethical writers as antagonistic. The struggle for existence, the rivalry, the crowding out, the rejec- tion of the unfit, the destruction of the weaker, the enormous waste of life, the remorseless exter- mination, seem to be selfishness, or at least very like it. Even if, in the sub-human orders, the method is non-moral, yet the same method appear- ing in the so-called progress of mankind is cer- tainly contrary to that which is moral, is posi- tively immoral. It is argued that the strife which has accompanied the advance of men into and along the path of civilization has not been the cause, nor even the incident, but rather the hin- drance, of progress. The rivalry that marks that path along its entire length, from the mass of con- 12 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS fused footprints left by the cruel fighting of sav- ages to the broad but hard-paved highway beaten down by the battles of nations, the competitions of industry, and the persecutions and controversies of religion, are distinctly wicked. The very instinct that yields such issues is purely selfish. Moral pro- gress has another root. It is found in sympathy. Sympathy is not a disguised form of selfishness, but a native instinct of man in the family and in society. Sympathy combats selfishness. So far as selfishness is reduced by sympathy, progress is made. When selfishness is dethroned by sym- pathy, the true kingdom of humanity is come. But when selfishness controls ; when there is a gladiato- rial contest of nation against nation, of tribe against tribe, of individual against individual ; when man seems worse than nature, the human process worse than the cosmic process, it must be concluded that the law of evolution through struggle and survival is antagonistic to morality. There is strong pro- test against evolution, not merely because the derivation of man from animals is thought to be degrading, but chiefly because moral sentiments recoil from the process of strife, subjection, and extinction. Must not morality look upon evolu- tion as an enemy if it is true that nature is regard- less of the individual, and regardful only of the type, and not even careful of the type ? " So careful of the type ? but no, From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, ' A thousand types are gone, I care for nothing, all must go.' " 1 1 Tennyson, In Memoriam. INDEPENDENCE t 13 Another reason for antagonizing evolution, when it is extended to the life of man, is the apparent exclusion of freedom, choice, and responsibility. Evolution is necessity. It reverses the maxim, for it is necessity which knows nothing but law. If man's life has been shaped by inevitable law, the foundations of morality are destroyed ; and if the foundations be destroyed, the old question, What shall the righteous do? need not even be asked, for there are no righteous ones to be asked about, nor to ask about themselves. Much of the opposi- tion of religion to science is really for this reason, rather than because science does not square with an ancient cosmogony of the Hebrews. There is, no doubt, a degree of truth in the opinion that the evolution of man in some of its aspects and incidents is in conflict with morality. There is such a thing as reversal in nature. There is such a thing as degeneration in man. Proper discrimination, however, of the essential law of evolution from some of its accompaniments re- moves occasion for antagonism. If evolution is true, there can be no hostility towards any other truth. The true cannot be in conflict with the right. The ethical man may find a war in his members, but the war does not rage because the ethical man is the evolved man. The second view of the relation of the two in- terests is that they are independent of each other. According to this view, it is maintained that, while the physical nature of man is developed by natural 14 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS selection from animals, his intellectual and moral faculties are not so accounted for, or, if they are so derived as faculties, the use of them is inde- pendent of evolution. The mental and moral man is on a plane above the level of physical na- ture, and under different conditions. Man is like a ship, the physical hull in the waves, tides, and currents of the ocean, the intellectual, moral, and spiritual sails spread to the breezes of heaven ; or, to adapt the figure to improved navigation, his brain and heart are the twin engines within the hull, and carry the ship across or even against the waves and currents on which it would otherwise drift helplessly. Man's moral powers, and, as some think, his intellectual powers, appeared, no one knows how ; perhaps, according to the strik- ing but sinister Scriptural figure employed by Mr. John Fiske, like a thief in the night. Having appeared, these faculties have improved and re- fined, not by struggle and survival, but under other laws, which are sympathetic or social. There certainly is much truth in this view. There are higher and lower orders, of which man is the highest. There are higher and lower pow- ers in man, and assuredly the higher are not pre- cisely like the lower in constitution or in method of progress. But it is much to be doubted whether a process which obtains in the physical nature, and to a degree in the intellectual and moral nature, is ever discarded so as to give virtual independ- ence of it at any point. One of the distinguished representatives of this opinion is Mr. Alfred R. Wallace. In his " Dar- INDEPENDENCE 15 winism " he parts company with Mr. Darwin when it comes to the moral, mathematical, musical, and artistic faculties of man. He regards it as impos- sible that these faculties should have been derived from anything to be found in animals. He does not argue this definitely with respect to moral powers, confining his discussion to the other facul- ties named, but he emphatically affirms this opin- ion concerning the moral convictions. 1 Another representative of this view is Mr. Hux- ley, whose " Komanes Lecture " created a genuine surprise. It was supposed that he regarded mo- rality merely as a phase of evolution, as an outcome of the struggle for existence. But he declared that ethics is independent of evolution ; that moral sentiments and practices are under other laws than the laws of the great cosmic process ; that convic- tions of right and wrong can by no possibility have been developed in the struggle for existence ; and that the business of morality is to combat the selfishness which controls the process styled cos- mic. He maintains that humanity is differentiated from other orders in such ways, chiefly moral, that it pursues a method of its own, and is not a mere projection a little farther in the same direction with inferior beings. A single quotation must suffice to define Mr. Huxley's opinions : " Cosmic evolution may teach us how the good and the evil tendencies of man may have come about; but in itself it is incompetent to furnish any better reason why what we call good is prefer- able to what we call evil than we had before. 1 Darwinism, pp. 461-478. 16 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS Some day, I doubt not, we shall arrive at an un- derstanding of the evolution of the aesthetic faculty ; but all the understanding in the world will neither increase nor diminish the force of the intuition that this is beautiful and that is ugly. There is another fallacy which appears to me to pervade the so-called 4 ethics of evolution.' It is the notion that because, on the whole, animals and plants have advanced in perfection of organization by means of the struggle for existence and the conse- quent 'survival of the fittest,' therefore men in society, men as ethical beings, must look to the same process to help them towards perfection. . . . As I have already urged, the practice of that which is ethically best what we call goodness or virtue involves a course of conduct which in all respects is opposed to that which leads to suc- cess in the cosmic struggle for existence. In place of ruthless self-assertion, it demands self-restraint ; in place of thrusting aside or treading down all competitors, it requires that the individual shall not merely respect but shall help his fellows ; its influence is directed, not so much to the survi- val of the fittest, as to the fitting of as many as possible to survive. It repudiates the gladiatorial theory of existence. It demands that each man who enters into the advantages of a polity shall be mindful of his debt to those who have labori- ously constructed it, and shall take heed that no act of his weakens the fabric in which he has been permitted to live. ... It is from the neglect of plain considerations like these that the fanatical individualism of our time attempts to apply the INDEPENDENCE 17 analogy of cosmic nature to society. . . . Let us understand, once for all, that the ethical progress of society depends, not on imitating the cosmic process, still less in running away from it, but on combating it." 1 This signifies that, on the whole, the moral acts independently of the evolutionary process, except as the moral turns about and combats the cosmic method. Not moral practices, but only moral fac- ulties, are derived from the animal orders. The methods of evolution do not apply to duty and right in the social life. Now, it is true enough that man has moral distinctiveness and acts ac- cordingly. But he is not therefore independent of the cosmic process, unless the social part of the process is ignored, and also unless the self-regard- ing part is held to have no moral value, as at least an analogue or prophecy of the moral self- perfection of man. Still another representative of the opinion that morality is independent of evolution is Mr. Benja- min Kidd, whose " Social Evolution " has attracted much notice. The author traces the evolutionary process far on into the history of man. Individ- ual self-assertion expressed in struggle and rivalry is the line every man follows. He can see no other road to success. Modern life is not different from ancient and savage life in this respect. To do otherwise would be irrational. But the social organism subordinates the individual against his reason, against his will, and even against his knowledge. Progress is really made and only 1 Evolution and Ethics, pp. 31-34. 18 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS made by this subordination. The organic life is controlled by religion, which is the self-conscious- ness, as it were, of the corporate body. By reli- gion the author means morality, for he frequently characterizes it as the fund of altruistic feel- ing. In this so-called religious life of society the progress of the race is found. He calls it social evolution, but means something quite unlike evolu- tion in the ordinary sense of the term. It is an evolution of society altogether different from the evolution of individuals by selection. Individuals themselves do not see it. If they should see it they would deem it absurd, as contravening their own interests. But in fact the social man is soft- ening, improving, refining, moralizing the selfish man. They are one and the same being as a visible phenomenon. They are different beings regarded as in or as out of the corporate life. The conclusion Mr. Kidd reaches, and which fur- nishes the title of a chapter, is that social evolu- tion (by which he means human progress) is not primarily intellectual. Modern Europeans are not as intellectual as the ancient Greeks. The cranial capacity of man does not increase with his progress. The mental power of a savage is as great as that of a civilized man ; he only needs training. Progress is due to religion, which, as has been observed, is the author's term for social morality. It may be noticed in passing that there is a re- markable contrast between this book and that of Mr. Buckle already referred to. Both authors were previously unknown. Each was brought into sud- INDEPENDENCE 19 den notoriety by his first publication. For a year or two, in each case, the author's name was on all lips. The one maintained and the credulous public for a time believed and repeated it that human progress is not primarily moral, but almost wholly intellectual. The other maintained to the next generation of English-speaking people and that generation applauded vociferously that hu- man progress is not primarily intellectual, but is almost wholly moral. Unlike the children in the market-place, unlike the stiff-necked generation of old, our fathers mourned when Mr. Buckle wailed, and their sons danced when Mr. Kidd piped. Sin- gularly enough, also, both drew their illustrations from pretty much the same sources. Now, the point I am making is, that here is a popular writer on civilization who draws a line above which morality appears and is independent of evolution. He merely draws it higher up than the lines drawn by the other two. Wallace draws his at the origin of the moral nature. It could not, he thinks, have been derived from the powers observed in animals. Huxley draws his at the moral development and practices of man. Man's moral nature may have originated from animals, as his physical nature has ; but actual goodness is on another plane, above, different from, and inde- pendent of the evolution of lower orders. Kidd draws his still higher. Evolution, as a struggle for existence and survival, goes far on in the pro- gress of men. Their intellectual judgments are wholly after the manner of evolution. The fund of altruistic feeling accumulated by social secre- 20 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS tion, in a way mysterious, ultra-rational, supernat- ural, pays out interest as morality. To that high level man at last swings himself up, quite free and clear of evolution. Dazed at first, he scarcely knows where he is, till the ropes are cut which bound him to earth, and he sails away in a " super- rational," " ultra-rational " balloon. Now, it is dif- ficult to draw a line low enough down to lie under the moral nature of man, so that nothing like moral sentiments can be found below it, and Mr. Wallace does not succeed. It is still more diffi- cult to draw a line high enough up to keep heredity, physical and intellectual conditions, self- assertion, and all that has already gone to make the man, from appearing above it, and Mr. Kidd does not succeed. No part of man's nature or history can be separated from any other part. If evolution accompanies him any appreciable dis- tance on his journey, it will stick to him till the end. If it starts with him in the morning, it will be with him at sundown, and will lie down to sleep with him. In the description of an infirmary pro- vided for a New England college, it was stated that the third story would be fitted up for conta- gious cases, and would be entirely separate from the rest of the building. Man has, indeed, an ample upper story well furnished intellectually and morally, but it is not separate from the rest of the building and the hidden foundations. The view that ethics and evolution are independent recognizes many important facts, but it sees them out of focus. IDENTITY 21 VI The third view of our two great interests re- gards them as practically identical. Morality is thought to be simply and entirely one phase of evolution. Both the origin and the development of moral sentiments have been under evolutionary methods. There is neither antagonism nor in- dependence, but only identity. The stages of society succeed each other in an invariable order, wherever and whenever progress appears ; out of savagery into barbarism, out of barbarism into civilization, always. As the tools with which man increases his power are first stone and then metal, so with slight variations families, gov- ernments, cities, manufactures, commerce, religions appear in an unchanging order. When, centuries later, a bit of enameled pottery or a rusted iron implement is excavated, a tolerably correct sketch can be given of the arts, the customs, the achievements of the buried peoples over whom later generations had been heedlessly moving. However progress may be characterized, whether from war to work and from work to culture, or from selfishness to sympathy, or from the material to the moral, it is evident that there is always one and the same order, law, evolution. Soil and climate have been important factors in the progress of man. Material welfare has had much to do with social morality. As the expression of the aesthetic has been determined by external condi- tions, the Dutch artists of the north painting interiors, the southern artists of Italy painting 22 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS landscapes, the English artists painting seacoasts , and horses and dogs, the religious artists painting Madonnas and saints, so morality is geographi- cal. The essence of it does not vary. The differ- ent customs are moral, as the different pictures are aesthetic. But the expression of it in diverse forms is determined by degrees of latitude and longitude. The variant customs were formerly, by some writers, confounded with the unvarying nature of morality, and led them to conclude that there is no universal morality, as when Montaigne having cited many examples to show that the vice of one country or age may be the virtue of another, in- quires, " What kind of virtue is that which I see one day in repute, and that to-morrow shall be in none, and which the crossing of a river makes a crime ? What sort of truth can that be which these mountains limit to us, and make a lie to all the world beyond them ? " l a notion borrowed and amplified by Pascal when he exclaims, "Three degrees of higher latitude overturn all jurispru- dence. A meridian decides the truth ; fundamental laws change in a few years ; right has its epochs. . . . Pitiable justice bounded by a river. Truth this side the Pyrenees, error that side." 2 Mac- aulay apologizes for the perfidy of Machiavelli in view of the peculiar moral standards of Italy in the sixteenth century ; and Burke found it necessary to expose Warren Hastings for haying administered the affairs of India on "a plan of geographical morality by which the duties of men, 1 Apology far Raimond Sebond. 2 Pascal's Thoughts, translated by 0. W. Wight, p. 183. IDENTITY 23 in public and in private situations, are not to be governed by their relation to the great Governor of the universe, or by their relation to mankind, but by climates, degrees of longitude, paral- lels, not of life, but of latitudes." l These facts are not now interpreted to mean that moral sentiments have no basis in the nature of man, and that morality is exhaustively defined by the etymology of the word, as that which is custom- ary, but rather to mean that morality is a pro- duct and at the same time a factor of evolution, in which the forms and expressions of universal convictions of duty are determined by environ- ment, and therefore to mean that morality is precisely and merely one phase of evolution. Ultimately, the moral sentiments of man origi- nate in the feelings of those animals from which man is derived. That feeling or instinct which in animals is the condition of reproduction, of gregariousness, and of cooperation, and to which the human word, sympathy, is applied, becomes in man the sentiment of morality in social relations. It gave man his advantage in the struggle for ex- istence, as an individual and as a species. It consolidated his strength. Each man was safer by reason of the protection afforded by combina- tion. Mutual dependence forbids stealing, lying, and murder. Thus hurtful habits are suppressed, helpful habits are developed, and the convictions of right and wrong, of good and evil, are rooted. The keenest enjoyments are felt in the exercise of the affections and services of love. Thus the 1 The Works of Edmund Burke, vol. ix., pp. 447, 448. 24 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS highest phase of evolution is that morality which has become the conscience of civilized humanity. This may seem far away from the cruelty of ani- mals defending their young with tooth and claw, from the fighting of one savage tribe with another, from the polygamy under which a man has right of property in several women ; but this rudimen- lary and that efflorescent morality are from one and the same stock. A flower is unlike a root, a rose is different from a thorn ; but the flower is the beautiful and fragrant product of that in which leaf, branch, bark, root, and even soil and climate are essential. Do we not, indeed, speak of art, culture, and morality as the consummate flower of civilization ? In view of such consider- tions, it is maintained by many that morality and evolution are neither antagonistic nor indepen- dent, but that they are simply identical. One might as well ask whether the eye and the ear are opposed or independent. Hearing and sight are not the same sensation, but in a normal body both are functions of the one organism. They are only separate phases of a form of life called human, which in turn is a phase of the infinitely vast yet infinitesimally discriminating process of evo- lution. These statements are, or are intended to be, a fair and intelligible account of the opinion that evolution and morality are identical. It is the theory which is characterized as the evolution of ethics. The opinion is, in my judgment, nearer the truth than either of those previously noticed. It is open to criticism as failing to distinguish IDENTITY , 25 different factors in the process of development. It confuses the mode, the method, in which various kinds of forces act, with the forces themselves, with the causes and nature of things. The mode, it is true, resides in the nature. The how is conditioned on the what. The various beings and the various forces are related also, and their differences are brought about by evolution. But differences exist. This very differentiation is in fact a law and at the same time a mystery of evolution. It is a lengthy and imposing word to indicate that at cer- tain points something new appears. The new is not unrelated to the old, but it is unlike the old, and breaks out a path of its own. The wondering beholder asks the evolutionist how this difference is produced, and must be contented with the pro- found answer that the difference is produced by a process of differentiation. I would not intimate that at these points, or at any points, the process of evolution is suspended, nor that the new force in turn refuses to comply with evolutionary conditions. My meaning is, that the relation of one thing to another does not amount to the two things ; that functions must be distinguished ; that it is as im- possible to identify morality with evolution as it is to put them out of relation. The law of gravi- tation is universal, but it does not enable us to distinguish nitrogen from hydrogen. Without gravitation there might be no chemical elements nor affinities, but phosphorus is not identical with gravitation. They are not antagonistic. They are not independent. But assuredly they are not iden- tical. Neither are morality and evolution identical. 26 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS VII The fourth view of the relation of evolution and ethics is the view that they are harmonious. They are not antagonistic, for then one theory or the other must be untrue. They are not independent, for a line cannot be drawn low enough to keep the moral above it, nor high enough to keep evolution beneath it. They are not identical, for the very excellent reason that they are different. They must therefore be coincident and harmonious. Evolution is the mode in which life develops from the lower to the higher orders of plants and ani- mals ; the mode in which man, the vertebrate mam- mal, is derived from other vertebrate mammals; probably the mode in which the psychical powers of man are derived from animals which are intelli- gent and can communicate by tone and gesture ; and not improbably the mode in which the moral sentiments of man are derived from certain in- stincts and feelings of animals. Those instincts and feelings, which certainly simulate our moral convictions, are not only the sympathetic but also the .gelf -regarding impulses. It has been strangely overlooked that self-preservation and self-perfection are as truly in the nature of morality as sympathy and self-sacrifice. The harmony may be found on several lines of comparison. For example, evolution is understood by perceiving the ends towards which it works. It is known to be evolution only when the results are seen. Otherwise the universe is chance or chaos. If an observer could have been stationed at the HARMONY 27 point where life began to advance unconsciously, and had been able to prophesy all the struggle for existence and survival of the fittest, he could have discovered the law of evolution only by discerning the ends towards which the creation would move. The final cause is indispensable to evolution. But the most fundamental principle of ethics is the recognition and pursuit of ideals. Again, the coincidence may be found in re- spect to the materials, the very constituents, which are the working forces of ethics and evolution in human development. These have already been noticed, the self-regarding and the other-regarding feelings, self-assertion and altruism. To recog- nize these correspondences it will be necessary to consider the personality of man in society, a subject with which some of the following chapters are occupied. And, once more, the coincidence is found, as has been suggested, in the method of all that can be called progress in any department of life, namely, the method of gradual advance. It is a method usually of slow and always of connected develop- ment. The advance of society, like that of nature, is not spasmodic, but graduated. Even revolu- tions and reformations are now known to be results rather than causes, although every event of mag- nitude, if it is a great result, must become in turn a great cause. They are thunder-storms clearing the atmosphere, in which, however, electricity has been accumulating during days of excessive heat. The knowledge that society develops under appro- priate influences, and does not advance by leaps 28 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS and jerks, affects all schemes of social reformation. Reforms are planned for the campaign of a decade or a generation, rather than for a season or an an- nual election. The corporate life of society, the antecedents of heredity, custom, national history, climate, are taken into account. Negroes and Jap- anese will not advance at the same rate, nor in the same direction. The slow process by which per- sistency of type is gained is not ignored. Schemes for the elevation of society are modified as to time and enlarged as to scope. The coincidence as to method is found finally in the expectation of progress. Evolutionists are optimistic. They believe that the goal of human progress has not yet been reached. They antici- pate enormous advances in knowledge, art, industry, government. Man will penetrate into secrets which are now hidden. Society will develop new econo- mies, new aesthetics, new ethics. The moral stand- ards of the England of to-day are no farther in advance of the coarse customs of Merrie England than the ethical refinements of England in the twenty-third century will be in advance of that rapacity and oppression to which its aristocracy is so indifferent now. The social reciprocities will be developed more and more. Society is in the midst of a moral evolution which has done little more than to make a good beginning in the temperate zones. In this expectation of progress, evolution and ethics agree. The moral prophet is perhaps somewhat more sober than the prophet of evolu- tion ; for the latter, it must be confessed, often peems more at home in the twentieth or thirtieth HARMONY , 29 century than in the nineteeth. And the ethical prophet is not as likely as the evolutionary seer to believe that progress, because it is gradual and connected, can be left to take care of itself. The opinion that evolution is antagonistic to morality, and the opinion that they are indepen- dent, make the same mistake. Both opinions think of evolution as struggle and survival, and not also as reproduction and sympathy. Both find morality only in the social and not also in the self- regarding feelings. They both confine morality to the sympathetic and evolution to the self -assert- ing feelings. But there is morality in self-regard as well as in sympathy, and there is evolution in sympathy as well as in self-regard. And the opin- ion that ethics and evolution are identical reduces regard for others to self-regard, altruism to selfish- ness, morality to a phase of self-preservation. I shall return to the comparison after indicating the essential principles of ethics, with the expectation of establishing in the main, even if not at every point, the harmony of evolution with morality. My confidence that this can be accomplished rests in no small measure on the spirit of candor and the irenic temper with which it is generally agreed that the discussion of important interests should be conducted. CHAPTER II PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY IT is necessary to know what the moral man is in order to know how he has become what he is. The present contains the past. The product reg- isters its own history. The pattern of a fabric must be seen before the separate threads can be woven together.. Its constituent elements, what may be called its creation, production, or evolution, are best known by unraveling it. If the method is reversed, if the separate threads are taken up at each point where the weaving began and are traced along their several lines, they can be under- stood only because the finished pattern is all the time before the eye. The interpreter of the past is himself the moral personality who is the product of the past he interprets. He knows his own evolution by present analysis rather than by an- cient prophecy. We must therefore take our stand by the ethical man where he is, if we would know that and how he is the evolved man. We find ourselves in a society of human beings. Every one is a moral personality living in relation with others like himself. Society consists of re- lated moral personalities. Personality and society produce each other, condition each other, promote SOCIETY AND PERSONS, 31 each other. Society does not become more highly organized at the expense of individuals, but is only individuals more highly potentialized and more variously related. The advance of society multi- plies the relations, and at the same time enhances the importance of the individual. The more vari- ous the social life, the more distinctive is person- ality. The more characteristic individuals are, the more diversified society is. That is the best so- ciety which includes the largest number of unique persons. Savagery is uniform. A thousand sav- ages live as close together as a thousand New Eng- landers, but are distinguished from one another only, or chiefly, by sex, age, and size. They divide up the work a little. They think alike, or not at all, and converse therefore in monosyllables. That is not society. There is no development of per- sonality, but only a horde of men, women, and children. The more highly society is articulated the more distinctive is the specializing of talents. The best society, while certain outward conven- tionalities of dress and manners are observed alike by all, brings together persons of diverse gifts. The bond of union and interest is the contribution each makes to the common enjoyment ; one bring- ing information, another flashing with brilliancy of repartee, another supplying musical skill. What agreeable society ! it is said. It is agreeable because with no clashing there are so many kinds of talents and gifts. As we go down, monotony. As we go up, variety. As we go down, social life is mechan- ical. As we go up, it is organic. As we go down, personality is reduced. As we go up, the separate 32 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY members are differentiated more and more, yet are more closely united. It is an exploded notion that the individual is distinct from society, and can be considered as separate from it ; that the individual comes first and society comes afterwards ; that there ever was a compact made by individuals coming from scat- tered points of a remote circumference down the radii to the centre where they held a convention and voted to become a society. On the other hand it is an incorrect notion that society is a Grand Being, the Grand Eire of Comte, with a con- sciousness, a spirit, a personality of its own. For convenience, it may for some purposes be so desig- nated, but only in an accommodated sense. There is no central consciousness of humanity, or of a nation, but only a distributed consciousness. Hu- manity as a whole is not conscious of aims and tendencies. These can be known only by God, who knows all things perfectly because his thought and life are in all and through all, and by indi- viduals who observe and in a measure control the movements of society. The Zeit-Geist is merely the effect of knowledge upon the thought of large numbers of men at the same time. We may now trace more in detail the relation of in- dividuals to society. ii By inheritance the individual is the product of the race. He receives his physical organs and all his powers by reproduction, in which immediate and remote ancestors bore a part. A man is one KNOWLEDGE TRANSMITTED 33 who belongs to and is derived from the human race. He is a being born of woman. A Robin- son Crusoe may be isolated from all other men, but he must have been born from human parents, must have inherited his qualities from them, and must have been nurtured by them in infancy. Leslie Stephen says that "a man not dependent upon a race is as meaningless a phrase as an apple that does not grow upon a tree ; " that one cannot therefore say that " an apple owes certain quali- ties to the fact of its growing upon a tree, for it owes all its qualities to that fact ; " that the non- tree-grown apple is a nonentity. 1 It is due to a pre-existing society that the individual is, and that he is what he is. in Society accumulates knowledge and experience which it makes over to newcomers. The enor- mous advantage of modern over ancient life is not due apparently to any radical change in the human organization, but to the legacy which each generation, after adding its own increment, has transmitted to the following generation. Material and mental wealth have been accumulated and handed down. The Englishman of the Victorian era has no greater capacity, it may be, than the Saxon who fought against and surrendered to William the Conqueror ; but the intervening mil- lennium has stored up mechanical appliances, lit- erature, science, art, laws, which multiply the power of the modern man a hundredfold. " He in- 1 The Science of Ethics, pp. 96, 97. 34 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY herits," says Mr. Stephen, " not merely the tan- gible products of labor, but the methods of labor. Our ancestors transmit to us both results, and the means of obtaining fresh results ; they transmit their mechanical skill and their logic, although they do not transmit any modification of structure. The infant always starts at the same point of in- telligence, but the path has been cleared for him, so that he can reach an enormously more distant goal. A child is not born a clock-maker now any more than he was three thousand years ago, but not the less does he inherit the power of making clocks." l Language is the vehicle which conveys this legacy. It is a ready-made instrument which the child receives from its nurse or mother. In lan- guage, signs are given by which things are remem- bered, and which are a medium of exchange. It preserves logic, science, philosophy, religion. The writer just quoted adds that " to teach a child to speak is to educate it, to prepare it for association with others, to lay it open to all manner of influ- ences, to start it with a mass of knowledge already elaborately organized, to teach it methods of thinking and imagining, to insinuate into its mind philosophical and religious principles, and to inoculate it with innumerable associations which must be important elements in the development of its character." 2 While some of the experiences of men are recorded in modifications of the physical structure, and so are transmitted by reproduction, such changes being very slight and very slow, as 1 The Science of Ethics, p. 105. 2 Ibid., pp. 106, 107, KNOWLEDGE TRANSMITTED 35 witli animals, other experiences which create the quicker progress of civilization are recorded in language, both oral and written, by which the tra- ditions, the literature, the poetry, the philosophy, the science, the religion of all the ages are heaped up in the lap of the latest generation, and by them in turn, with some accretions, made over to their successors. The moderns must say what the ancients said, but with added emphasis : " Other men labored, and we have entered into their labors." The talents we have received gratuitously we must bequeath with interest, giving heed to that other maxim, "Freely ye have received, freely give." An inheritance may, it is true, be diminished by the individual who receives it, as in the case, cited by Lotze, 1 of a great fortune, which the children who were brought up in the presence of the labor by which it was produced preserve, even if they will not toil as their fathers did to increase it, but which the grandchildren, who know nothing of the worth of the labor which created it, soon squander. But this is only material wealth, and, even so, it is not lost to society, but only to par- ticular individuals. The inheritance of culture, when it has really come into possession, cannot be lost. It may seem, also, that the eagerness of dis- covery has an advantage over the familiarity of later knowledge ; but this is the advantage of curi- osity rather than of value and use, and may even be a disadvantage by attaching undue importance to new truth, which, when it has become familiar, 1 Microcosmus, English translation, vol. ii., p. 151. 36 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY is rightly adjusted to old truth. The exaggerated claim made for evolution is an instance in point. IV The individual is also dependent on his contem- poraries. If a cross-section showing a single day in the life of a civilized man could be exposed, it would disclose the services of a multitude of helpers. When he rises, a sponge is placed in his hand by a Pacific Islander, a cake of soap by a Frenchman, a rough towel by a Turk. His merino underwear he takes from the hand of a Spaniard, his linen from a Belfast manufacturer, his outer garments from a Birmingham weaver, his scarf from a French silk-grower, his shoes from a Brazilian grazier. At breakfast, his cup of coffee is poured by natives of Java and Arabia; his rolls are passed by a Kansas farmer, his beef- steak by a Texan ranchman, his orange by a Florida negro. He is taken to the city by the descendants of James Watt ; his messages are carried hither and thither by Edison, the grandson by electrical consanguinity of Benjamin Franklin ; his day's stint of work is done for him by a thou- sand Irishmen in his factory; or he pleads in a court which was founded by ancient Romans, and for the support of which all citizens are taxed; or in his study at home he reads books composed by English historians and French scientists, and which were printed by the typographical descend- ants of Gutenberg. In the evening he is enter- tained by German singers who repeat the myths of Norsemen, or by a company of actors who ren- INCREASE OF SOCIAL FUNCTIONS 37 der the plays of Shakespeare ; and, finally, he is put to bed by South Americans who bring hair, by Pennsylvania miners and furnace- workers who bring steel, by Mississippi planters who bring cotton, or, if he prefers, by Russian peasants who bring flax, and by Labrador fowlers who smooth his pillow. A million men, women, and children have been working for him that he may have his day of comfort and pleasure. In return he has contributed his mite to add a unit to the common stock of necessaries and luxuries from which the world draws. Each is working for all; all are working for each. When Robert Louis Stevenson was living near a deserted mine in the heart of the California mountains, it was almost impossible to get fresh meat and milk ; and in his sketch entitled "The Silverado Squatters " he observes parenthet- ically that " it is really disheartening how we depend 011 other people in this life." Man is never separate from mankind. It has been truly said that no comparison can be made between man alone and society, but only between man in early and later stages of social development. In view of the dependence of the individual on society, a dependence which increases with the pro- gress of civilization, it may next be observed that the advances of society are towards more highly organized life, and towards an increasing partici- pation of each individual in social functions. Po- litical, industrial, philanthropic, and ecclesiastical organizations multiply as society advances, and at 38 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY the same time the individual identifies himself with a greater number of those organizations. It is not the case that people are parceled out into separate groups until all have been distributed, but that the individual is found in many groups. The same man is a husband, a father, a brother, a citizen, a Democrat, an Episcopalian, a director of a bank, a Freemason, an officer in several charitable soci- eties, the president of a Browning club, and a member of twenty other sodalities and fraternities. Neither is he divided up among them, except in some division of his time. He puts the whole of himself, all his wisdom and energy, into each and all. He is not one quarter father, one tenth a churchman, one fifth a politician, but is the same interested and efficient man and shows the same personal characteristics, in all the relations. Social combinations are appraised at a high valuation. We have a regard, even an affection, for the corporation to which we belong. The college from which one graduates is alma mater. The church is she. Institutions in which we are members without our own choice, as the State, call out feelings which are not easily analyzed but are among our deepest and strongest emotions. In a foreign land, the sight of our own national flag starts a tear. The heart beats quicker as our returning ship steams up the harbor. We are almost saddened by the reminder that corporations have no souls, and are comforted with the reflection that the maxim is true only of business corpora- tions. Even temporary and accidental associations, as of travelers on a stage-coach or ocean steamship, DEVELOPMENT OF PERSONALITY 39 create a sympathetic society in community of inter- ests and dangers. We are not willing to be passed by another coach or steamship, although, as Mr. Stephen remarks, when using this illustration, our merits have no influence upon the success of our own company. This increase of organization, which does not reduce but enhances personality, which multiplies rather than divides the individual by the number of interests with which he is identi- fied, is coincident with the advance of civilization. In the nomad state of hunting, when room is needed, there is scarcely any coherence. There is no permanent residence, no local home. Grazing and agriculture require combination of efforts, the accumulation of products, the dwelling-place, the home, the community. The storing and distribu- tion of products require towns and cities, and with them appears the political community, the State. As area is narrowed and men dwell more closely together, organization becomes more compact and diversified. VI This increasing participation of individuals in social functions may be best characterized as the development of personality. Complexity of organ- ization signifies increasing wants and the develop- ing talents of individuals. Progress means wants. The lower man is on the scale of civilization, the fewer are his wants. The savage is satisfied with the bare necessaries of life. A precarious food-supply, scanty or no clothing in the torrid, undressed furs in the frigid zones, rude huts for shelter, satisfy him. He takes no thought for 40 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY the morrow. The wants of the civilized man are so numerous that the primitive physical needs con- stitute but a small item of his demands. Luxu- ries become more important than necessaries. His wants are intellectual, social, artistic. As soon as wants for which he craved satisfaction are realized, he is conscious of new wants. Most men have no margin of income. Increase of income brings advance in the scale of living. One imagines that if his income were doubled he would soon be rich. But, on the contrary, he spends twice as much, or even a little more than that. It is like the manna in the wilderness. He that gathered much had nothing over, and he that gathered little had no lack. The reason then offered is reversed, however, in the history of supply and demand. Then they gathered every man according to his eating. Now every man eats according to his gathering. In- crease of conscious wants means a growing man. Enjoyment is measured by capacity. An ignorant person may have money enough to buy a book, which belongs to him by legal possession, but which corresponds to no existing want. He gets neither information nor inspiration from it. It is only so much paper and ink. The man who wants litera- ture, poetry, music, art, science, and philosophy is the man who is himself literary, poetic, musical, artistic, scentific, and philosophical. The myriad supply, material, intellectual, and aesthetic, which society creates, is a supply provided by and pro- vided for the more highly potentialized man. It is, then, the function of society to develop persons. Its product is not an impersonal something, a Zeit- DEVELOPMENT OF PERSONALITY 41 Geist, a spirit, an atmosphere, nor even institu- tions, governments, and codes, to be regarded as final ends. Organized social forms are for per- sons. Jesus enunciated the principle when he said that the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. Institutions, codes, and customs are for the welfare of the persons who constitute society, and persons are not to be used to maintain the integrity of institutions. If individuals lay down their lives for the State, it is not for the State, as an abstract, impersonal institution, sacred in itself, but for the State as essential to the welfare of the persons who compose it. The State may call on the individual to sacrifice his goods or his life, but not to sacrifice the goods of the soul, truthfulness, honor, purity. The standards of society must be the standards of personal value. While individuals can be what they are only in the conditions of society, political, economic, and educational, yet the end in view is the welfare of persons, a com- munity of self-conscious, related persons, each of whom is an end, and never to be used simply as a means. Analyze any pursuit or relation, indus- trial, intellectual, aesthetic, political, and it will be found that in every case the final object is man. Society may be seen to consist of industries, gov- ernment, art, culture ; but men enter into these pursuits, not to make the pursuits greater, but for their own advantage and the advantage of others, and, in the last analysis, to enhance the value of personality. So we judge any past civilization. When a buried city is explored, and one sees all the signs of throbbing life, implements as they 42 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY fell from the hand of the workman, seats as they were arranged for a feast or for a spectacle, and marks the point to which the useful and aesthetic arts had advanced, he knows that judgment of the city must be upon the persons who thronged its streets and palaces ; and in view of the virtues and vices of princes, the condition of slaves, the position of women, and in general the simplicity or effem- inacy, the moral health or the corruption, of the people. Granting that the improvement effected by that city and by similar cities in respect to arts and sciences was handed on to the following period of antiquity, still the value of the legacy would be judged in turn by the quality of personal life to which it was made tributary, and so the en- tire development of an ancient civilization must be appraised. When a future generation looks back on the appliances and activities of this century, its railroads, factories, residences, literature, gal- leries, orchestras, and legislatures, judgment will be passed on the product rather than on the mecha- nism, and the product is individual character. Granting that the mechanism of to-day is a stage in the evolution of a superior mechanism, so that by reason of what is done now there will be swifter locomotion, finer fabrics, statelier houses, nobler literature, more spendid galleries, more magnificent orchestras, and wiser legislatures, still the value of the later result will be judged by the character of the men who can travel more swiftly, live more luxuriously, gain a finer culture, and appreciate a purer art. In the use, at the present time, of that improved mechanism which all nations have in TWIVIH! DEVELOPMENT OF PERSONALITY 43 common, railroads, telegraphs, and the like, we ask what type of personality is developing in Russia, in Japan, in France, in America, what ideal of personality is reflected and realized by the pursuits, the literature, the art of modern life. It would probably be admitted that the highest types of civilization are the English and German, branches of the same stock. They present two related phenomena, the most highly organized government and the most distinctive individual- ity ; the most complex social organization, in which the people participate, and the most strongly ac- centuated personality ; society in the most various relations, and personality in its greatest strength. Some students of the philosophy of history find the clue by which they trace progress from ancient Greeks, Romans, and Jews, in the growth and assertion of personality. It is seen that Greece furnished science, through which it gained insight into nature as a rational order revealing the Supreme Reason ; and art, through which it gained insight into the nature of man according to ideals of beauty. It is seen that Rome provided the forms of justice, which maintain the rights of individuals ; and created the organization of states and municipalities, which secure the possession and transmission of private property. It is seen that Juda supplied belief in the personal God who promulgates law, which is addressed to the individual in the most personal term, thou. It has therefore often been noticed that the nomenclature of science and art employs Greek words ; that civil procedure is defined in 44 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY words derived, or more commonly transferred, from the Latin language ; and that our religious con- ceptions ' are expressed in terms employed in the sacred books of Judaea. All these elements unite in producing personality. It is also seen that the Germanic tribes of northern Europe, before they took up these forms of civilization and religion, were distinguished for self-assertion. Personal prowess, honor, self-defense, chivalry, are Teutonic characteristics. But they were expressed in feuds, piracy, adventure, cruelty, oftener than in deeds of chivalrous bravery. Upon this virile stock the influences of the older civilizations were brought, to refine and strengthen it. When the northern peo- ples came into possession of the science, philoso- phy, and art given by Greece, of the law, justice, and right of private property given by Rome, and into the belief in one personal God given by Judaea and spiritualized by Christianity, these profound influences, which in their several forms signi- fied personality, developed the fresh, young, self- asserting barbarian into the strongest personality the world has seen. The German who remained at home became the profound, solitary thinker, the independent and indefatigable investigator. The Anglo-Saxon who went abroad became the pioneer, the sailor, the colonist, the persistent, courageous, indomitable Englishman. In discerning the phi- losophy of history there may be differences of opin- ion as to many details, while there is practical agreement on some such an outline as I have sketched. Progress may be characterized, summa- rily, as the growing power and sacredness of per- GREAT MEN 45 sonality. A lowest class exists, brutalized and incompetent, a muddy mass of social sediment. But the personal life above is not indifferent to the sodden deposit below. The rights of the low- est are asserted. Personality is aroused, till one and another is emancipated and rises into the rank above. The mass is aerated, and when a bubble escapes it rises to the surface. VII It is not only true that progress promotes per- sonality, but also that it is produced, or at least quickened, by great personalities. Every epoch in national history, every revolution, every reform, every religion, is associated with a name. They are identified with the names of conquerors, patriots, leaders, reformers, founders. The significance of great personalities in history has been too much re- duced of late, owing to the disposition to find pro- gress in general movements and gradual changes. But great men have arisen, who have been taken possession of by some idea or ideal which has dawned upon them by intuition or inspiration rather than by processes of reasoning, who have been so aflame that they have kindled a responsive flame in the breasts of multitudes. It cannot be maintained that in such cases prophets and leaders merely voice beliefs which have become general, and which wait only for expression, for usually they find the majority opposed to them. Reformers are at first in the minority, not seldom a minority of one, Athana- sius against the world. They represent the thought of only the best men of their time, or of the few 46 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY who have dimly seen and faintly hoped for the better day. Yet at last they succeed in opening the eyes of the masses, in making them aware of wrongs, in arousing them to the maintenance of rights, until the fetters of error and injustice are broken. The leader consolidates sentiment and organizes action. He is the focus to which scat- tered rays converge, and in which they are concen- trated until the fires of revolution or reformation are kindled and ablaze. Mr. Charles H. Pearson, in his interesting and instructive book entitled " National Life and Character," contends, in the closing chapter on the Decay of Character, that the world is not likely to see any more great men. He thinks that States show a growing disposition to form alliances that will prevent war, and that the masses, as they gain influence and are educated, will throw their weight more and more into the scale of peace, and that therefore there will be no more Cromwells, Napoleons, and Grants. He thinks that the importance of the statesman is cir- cumscribed, because the most momentous political changes are already accomplished, such as the abo- lition of slavery, the right to express opinions with fearlessness, the humanizing of the penal code, the practical separation of Church and State, and the enfranchisement of the people. Henceforth, he believes, changes will not be sensational, but so orderly and gradual that their full importance can be estimated only by surveying them in review. He argues that there will be no great poets, be- cause all the epic and dramatic situations have been exhausted. Science can publish no discov- GREAT MEN 47 eries comparable to those already made. At the best, astronomy will find only an asteroid, biology only minor confirmations of evolution. Besides, there are so many people now, that no individual can be as conspicuous as when the population of a country was no greater than that of a modern city. He thinks there is more comfort, more happiness, and more intelligence than when changes were startling, but that the individual is relatively less important. The admission underlies Mr. Pearson's argu- ment that progress, or at least change, has hitherto been due, in a large degree, to forceful personali- ties. It is rather rash to predict that there are to be no more distinguished statesmen while Bismarck and Gladstone are still living, and are more widely famous than Pitt, or Burke, or Machiavelli were ; to affirm that there will be no more eminent scien- tific discoverers, considering that Darwin was un- known forty years ago; to prophesy that there will be no more great poets, when it is remembered that the entire life of Tennyson and Browning was included in the present century. It might with equal force be argued that social discontent and democratic government furnish unprecedented con- ditions for leadership and fame ; that national rela- tions are so sensitive and the balance of power so delicate that, in use of the modern enginery of war, a soldier may yet appear more famous than any military genius of the past ; that not all mysteries of nature are explored ; that life does not cease to be dramatic because it is comfortable, but with refinement and culture becomes more sensitive, and 48 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY so will give the poet ample material. It may be, indeed, that the individual is relatively less impor- tant when the number of people is greater ; but he may lead and inspire as many as others before him have aroused, and, by reason of the press, which informs the world of all events, may be more dis- tinguished than his predecessors. The logic of the argument is that the number of influential persons will increase rather than decrease with greater populations and the facilities of communication. But however that may be, there can be no doubt that personality reaches a higher level all through society. The distance between leaders and people is not so wide as in ancient and mediasval times. That, indeed, is the principal reason for believing that individuals will not be conspicuous above the multitude. From an elevated table-land the moun- tain peak does not stand for its real altitude above the sea. It is the suppression of individuality which marks a wide distance between great men and the masses. Moses was a great prophet by contrast with the people as well as in himself. But his wish that all the people were prophets was a wish for the uplifting of the masses into a higher personality. If all had been prophets, he might not have been as great in contrast. But in reality he would have seemed greater, for some greatness is required to appreciate greatness. A scholar or philosopher is admired by his equal more than he is by his servant. The saying that a man is not a hero to his valet has been wittily justified by the explanation that it is not because the hero is not a hero, but because the valet is a valet. But if there INSTITUTIONS AND INDIVIDUALS 49 should be in the future few men or none who stand conspicuous above their fellows, it will be because personality is developed more generally and rises nearer the highest point. It is therefore in the growth and power and rights of personality that social progress consists. Browning, in his youth, saw that progress is the development of personality in all men : " For these things tend still upward, progress is The law of life, man is not Man as yet. * Nor shall I deem his object served, his end Attained, his genuine strength put fairly forth, While only here and there a star dispels The darkness, here and there a towering mind O'erlooks its prostrate fellows : when the host Is out at once to the despair of night, When all mankind alike is perfected, Equal in full-blown powers then, not till then, I say, begins man's general infancy. Then shall his long triumphal march begin, Thence shall his being date, thus wholly roused, What he achieves shall be set down to him. When all the race is perfected alike As man, that is." l VIII The considerations which have been presented make it clear that personality and society are in- separable. Personality consists largely of social potencies and relations ; society is simply related persons. There could be no satisfaction in a life of solitude. It is, indeed, almost inconceivable. The myths and legends of human origins picture two persons, an original pair, as necessary, not 1 Paracelsus, 50 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY only for the production of society, but also for mutual satisfaction. One of the earliest words attributed to divine wisdom is the word that it is not good for man to be alone. Even a pair of individuals needs a larger society. One of the feli- citous touches in Lotze's representation of society is his delineation of the need of a social background even for a pair of happy lovers. " The drama of life," he says, " is too tame when it is played by only two persons ; they want at least the chorus to keep them in mind of the inexhaustible fullness of human interests, of which only a small portion can be brought into consciousness by their own rela- tions to one another. Men and women cannot be satisfied by the solitary companionship of one other human being. They wish to observe his attitude to some third person, and to know that he also ob- serves theirs. Finally, they wish that the recipro- cal influence of themselves and their companion should be seen and recognized by other intelligent beings ; for to enjoy without other people's know- ing anything about it, is not much better than to be non-existent." l The most interesting and profitable subject of conversation is our neighbors. Even if our obser- vations are somewhat censorious, yet the discrimi- nating recognition of faults and foibles, which may enable us to perceive our own advantages and de- fects, is better than indifference and silence. The proper study of mankind is man. One who says that he never talks about people, but only about facts and ideas, may be set down as an egregious 1 Microcosmus, vol. ii., p. 92, INSTITUTIONS AND INDIVIDUALS 51 and also probably an inconsistent fool. Literature, history, and philosophy are regarded as the higher range of studies, and are justly called the humani- ties. Society and persons, then, are correlative. The individual is not the centre from which alone the circumference is measured. Society considered as a whole, a unified aggregate, is not the centre from which alone the circumference is measured. Per- sonality and society are rather to be regarded as the foci of an ellipse. The human curve is swept by a chord, the two ends of which are fastened at these foci. The chord subtends various angles, as the several points on the circumference are at different distances from the two foci. At some points the chord is a straight line folded in part upon itself. But at every point the foci deter- mine the direction of the circumference, and make the curve an ellipse, not a circle, and not a small circle inside a large circle. It is not necessary to consider at any length, in this connection, the institutional forms of society, the Family, the State, and the Church ; nor to dis- cuss the proper classification of social forms, a subject which is reserved for a later chapter. It is enough to observe now that the very existence of society and the completeness of personality re- quire these institutions, and that they therefore are based on the very nature of society. There is the idea of a common good to be sought and shared, and which must express itself in some regulation of the common life. Institutions are the visible embodiments of the aims and interests of all the 52 PERSONALITY IN SOCIETY persons who constitute society. These institutions may take particular forms by agreement. They may have written constitutions and laws. A State may be founded by a compact, as was the case with tlie American Commonwealth. But the founders of the State did not create government and laws. The civilization of the centuries furnished the principles of constitutional government. Laws which can be enacted and repealed are merely adaptations to particular conditions. Laws which do not conform to the social structure must be re- pealed sooner or later, or become a dead letter. These institutions are referred to now because the State furnishes one of the best illustrations of the parallel advance of society and personality. There was never so much personal liberty. The individ- ual was never so free to go his own way without interference. There was never so wide scope given to individual enterprise and pursuit. But, at the same time, the power of the State has never been greater to lay hold of and to punish the offender, to mete out justice, and to promote the welfare of the people. IX The principal limitation on the importance of personality is found in the minute subdivision of labor in mechanical occupations. When a man spends all his working hours in cutting out the lifts of a shoe-heel, or in performing one out of the ten processes by which a pinhead is made, he seems to be narrowed and belittled. There are, however, corrections of this in reduction of hours of labor, by which some leisure is gained for other LIMITATIONS , 53 interests ; in the organization of laborers, by which each learns what the others are doing and what the values of industry are ; by the reading of news- papers, which tell him every day the story of what the world is doing ; by the study of science, in which many workmen engage ; and by the chances of promotion which are open to skilled artisans. The workman who makes only part of a shoe may be as intelligent as the shoemaker of the last cen- tury at whose shop the village loafers congregated. So one who specializes in scientific, linguistic, or historical investigation is in some danger of narrowing. But the danger is less than in me- chanical occupations, because the student must have some appreciation of other departments of knowledge in order to know his own. The special- ist also, as a rule, lives in a community of scholars with whom he is constantly exchanging intellectual values. In fact the man who is most likely to be a walking encyclopedia is the accurate and eminent specialist. The discussion of ethics will proceed in clear view of the mutual dependence and relations of persons in society. Personality is the fibre of soci- ety. Society is made up of personal tissue. They can be separated in thought, but never in fact. "We may expect therefore to find that morality is both personal and social ; that the individual serves society best, not by obliterating but by perfecting himself ; and that, on the other hand, his morality is not cultivated and himself perfected in solitude, but only and always in the relations of the social organism, and in service of his fellow-men. CHAPTER III THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD THE person in society is a moral person. The moral person may be characterized as one who per- ceives an ideal which he ought to realize. Morality is the endeavor to realize an ideal. An ideal is essential to the very existence of morality. This is seen when the conception of duty is examined. Duty is that which ought to be. That which ought to be is not real as yet. It is a notion of the mind, an idea, a picture, an ideal, which is perceived be- fore it is realized, and which is perceived as that which ought to be realized. Other ideals may be images before the mind, which come and go, which are true or fictitious, which are visitors by courtesy. The moral ideal is imperative. It issues orders. It is an ideal which insists on becoming real. As requiring realization, it is none the less but all the more an ideal. It is an ideal of the true and perfect man, and so lays command on the actual man. The moral ideal represents a good, a value, a worth. It has content, and rich content. It is not mere authority, nor bald imperative. It is a human good of such value that it cannot remain a thought, but must become a fact. The first and most vital inquiry of ethical philo- sophy is inquiry concerning the nature of the ideal. AN IDEAL ESSENTIAL 55 Systems of ethics find their chief differences in definition of the moral ideal. The questions and answers pertain to the good which men should desire and realize. Right, duty, law, obligation, are determined, as we shall see, by the character and value of the ideal, which in ethics is designated as the good, or the highest good, the summum bonum. We therefore observe, first, that an ideal of some kind is essential and fundamental in mo- rality. A moral teacher is one who sets forth an ideal. His teaching may be the representation of a partic- ular good, some reform, under which the present condition will be replaced by a better condition not yet existing. The specific good may be tem- perance. In that case the teacher or reformer pic- tures the advantage of a temperate life, in physical health, in saving of money for desirable uses, in a happy home, and in self-respect, which are con- trasted with the unhealthiness and wretchedness and folly of intemperance. The ideal is easily pictured because it may be seen in actual persons, but to the intemperate it is none the less an ideal. Any virtue which is inculcated, any reform, per- sonal, municipal, educational, which is advocated, is enforced by picturing the ideal and contrasting it with the real. On a wider range, a complete ethical system of comprehensive principles, rules, and maxims is the ideal of a perfect and symmet- rical character. It is a delineation of the man who combines all good qualities and of a society com- posed of such men. The enumeration of virtues and duties, although the terms are abstract, as patience, 56 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD courage, justice, is but the sketch of an imagi- nary person in an imaginary society, according to which real men in real society should be patterned. The condemnation of existing evil is possible only by recognizing the good which is violated or disre- garded. The moral lawgiver brings an ideal to the actual practice of the people. He comes down to them from some elevation, from some higher moral level, from a mountain top. He has seen a pattern in the mount. The ten words on stone tablets are ten bold lines which trace the salient features of a good man. The Decalogue may be regarded as the profile of a perfect man, like some great stone face showing clear-cut in massive features against the sky. If the attempt had been made by the an- cient worthies of Israel to describe the good man, the ten words of the law would have been used to personify him. The good man, they would have said, is reverent ; he is obedient to the will of God, who is the supreme reason and righteousness ; he works honestly and faithfully ; he rests regularly and religiously ; he reveres his parents and respects the venerable ; he will not destroy nor diminish his neighbor's life, nor sully a neighbor's purity, nor impair his property, nor injure his reputation, nor even long selfishly for anything that properly be- longs to another. Every system of morality, the Confucian, the Buddhistic, the Christian, sets forth an ideal man. That is the best system which is nearest the correct perspective. Some systems are without due sense of proportion between the great and the little. Japanese ethics is like a Japanese AN IDEAL ESSENTIAL 57 painting, in which a shrub is as large as a temple. The criticism passed by Jesus on the Pharisaic code of morals pointed out false perspective. The tithe on mint, anise, and cummin had been made as im- portant as judgment, mercy and faith. Teachers and lawgivers are not satisfied to con- struct abstract codes, but usually personify the moral ideal in descriptions of an imaginary man. This is a favorite method in Buddhism. One who has been converted is an Arahat, a term meaning one who is worthy, and he is described as having, in succession, thirty-seven states of mind. His course through them is traced in meditations, struggles, self-control, faith, contemplation, seren- ity, by which he attains the thirty graces. The Arahat who attains is described in beautiful im- agery, of which one example may be given : " Just, O King, as a lotus flower of glorious, pure, and high descent and origin is glossy, soft, desirable, sweet-smelling, longed for, loved, and praised, un- tarnished by the water or the mud, crossed with tiny petals and filaments and pericarps, the resort of many bees, a child of the clear, cold stream, just so is that disciple of the Noble Ones endowed with the thirty graces." l The Hebrew psalmist employs the same method of personifying virtue in the description of a good man, and uses a similar figure : " Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the wicked, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the Lord ; and in his law doth he meditate day and 1 Religious Systems of the World, p. 148. 58 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the streams of water, that bringeth forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf also doth not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper." In the dia- logues of Plato, Socrates is always imagining some person, and inventing situations in which a moral principle is realized. Now, there never was such a man as the Arahat who is likened to a lotus flower, nor as the Israelite who is compared to a tree. The Stoic philoso- phers could not claim that a real Stoic had ever been seen. Epictetus, after describing the ideal Stoic, exclaims : " Ah, show me a Stoic ! By the gods, I long to see one. It is quite out of your power to show me one well cast. Show me, then, at least one that lies in the crucible ready to be cast." But morality must have in view an ideal, partial or complete, and either must take actual men who have exhibited virtue in some of its aspects, or must take virtues which are scattered and suggested in actual persons and combine them in an ideal character. An end is in view. The end is a good to be desired and realized. An aim is directed to the end. In this respect moralists, from the earli- est to the present time, have agreed. If any deny that the right is determined by the good, if they contend that duty is imperative, whatever the re- sult may be, it is found that they set up some ideal which is the supreme good of man, even if they call it the will of God, or if they maintain that right is right merely because it is right. In the opening sentences of Aristotle's Ethics is a clear statement, which has not been improved upon, of HISTORICAL ETHICS , 59 the truth that the end in view constitutes morality : " Every art and every scientific inquiry, and simi- larly every action and purpose, may be said to aim at some good. Hence the good has been defined as that at which all things aim. . . . Thus health is the end of medicine, a vessel of ship-building, vic- tory of strategy, and wealth of domestic economy. ... If it is true that in the sphere of action there is an end which we wish for its own sake, and for the sake of which we wish everything else, and that we do not desire all things for the sake of some- thing else (for, if that is so, the process will go on ad infinitum, and our desire will be idle and futile) it is clear that this will be the good, or the supreme good. Does it not follow, then, that the knowledge of this supreme good is of great importance for the conduct of life, and that, if ive know it, we shall be like archers who have a mark at which to aim, we shall have a better chance of attaining what we want?" * II Historical ethics is occupied with the actual practices and customs which have prevailed in the past, and has sometimes made the assumption that these show perfectly what morality is. Then these practices have been explained by various causes, chiefly external, such as climate, the differ- ent conditions of mountainous and seaboard coun- tries, industries, governments, and the like. But the history of morality is not complete unless the standards as well as the customs of a people are 1 The Nicomachean Ethics of Aristotle, translated by J. E. C. Welldon, pp. 1, 2. 60 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD included. Peoples which have had written language have had books of the law, collections of maxims and precepts, legal codes. These explain because they influence moral practice. The morality of China is not understood merely by noticing the habits of the people. The books of Confucius are the most important part of the history of Chinese morality. Some actions which may be very common the people themselves regard as wrong. Even those tribes which have no writings do have stand- ards of right and wrong which are above their actual practice. To understand the morality of a savage tribe it is necessary to know their senti- ments as well as their acts : to know their senti- ments in order to understand their acts ; to know their approvals and disapprovals, as well as their kindnesses and cruelties. It may be asked if there is not among some nations and tribes a stationary morality, a repeti- tion century after century of the very same cus- toms which are always and sufficiently justified by the saying, " We have always done so, and our fathers and grandfathers did so." Chinese mo- rality and savage morality are often characterized as stationary and stereotyped. How is it then, in such cases, that morality is determined by an ideal, when there is only a perpetual round of unpro- gressive customs ? The answer is, that the existing state is regarded as the perfect state, and that de- viation from it is considered wrong. Individuals who violate any of the precepts which are gener- ally practiced, are condemned by comparison with the time-honored standards. The ideal is distinct HISTORICAL ETHICS 61 as actually and constantly practiced. Effort is required and demanded to bring it into constant realization. Actions are justified by comparison with such a standard, which is defined by a body of generalized precepts or proverbs. It could be claimed that there is no ideal only if conduct is automatic and blind, only if individuals are unable to furnish any explanation or justification of their actions, and are never aware of any deviations which they regard as transgressions to be con- demned. Necessitated action is not moral. If conduct can be called moral, it is because it is cho- sen and approved ; and if there is choice and ap- proval, there is a standard or ideal of comparison, however imperfect the standard may be. It is not believed, however, that the present or past state of any society is entirely stationary. The least pro- gressive peoples have some perception of that which is better. A savage who has one cow or one wife thinks it is better to have two, and how he shall get another is a moral question pertaining to the rights of other savages. Material betterment is conditioned on moral standards. Any progress desired or achieved is with some idea, more or less clear, of that which ought to be, but which is not now. There is an ideal in advance which pre- sents itself to the imagination and stimulates to action. It may be said that the distinction of man is the power of forming ideals. All ethical phi- losophers, as I have already stated, agree that morality consists in the realization of the good, which is seen as ideal before it is made actual, and is recognized as good that ought to be made actual, 62 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD as an ideal which is imperative. The systems dif- fer only as to the nature of the ideal. It is defined as ' pleasure, as happiness, as usefulness, as perfec- tion. All the systems assume that men see some- thing desirable which is a good, a better, or a best, and that they strive, or know they ought to strive, to attain it. The ethical systems are therefore chiefly occupied in showing or proving what the ideal is. The summum bonum is fundamental in ethics. in However the ideal may be defined, it evidently is an ideal of personality. It consists in character. It is a picture of good persons, or of better per^ sons. If the good to be done is regarded as exter- nal, for example, a ton of coal given to a poor widow, the good is in the kindness of the giver and the comfortable warmth of the receiver. There is no virtue in the coal. If the source of pleasure is outside the person, as music, a book, a game, which it is a right or even a duty to enjoy, there is enjoyment only because it is pleasant to a person, who is himself changed by experience of the enjoyment. He cannot remain identically the same, a subject over whom waves of pleasurable sensation pass. The theory that the greatest hap- piness is the good which men ought to seek and do seek, is a theory of the happiness of persons to whom external things are only the occasions of pleasure. If new sources of enjoyment are dis- covered, it is by persons capable of such enjoy- ment. As we have already seen, more refined sources of pleasure mean more refined persons. THE IDEAL PERSONAL 63 Any theory of duty which enumerates external things to be done resolves itself into a theory of character, that is, of persons disposed to do such things, persons whose character is expressed in such external conduct. Every act, every enjoy- ment, every kindness is an expression of person- ality. The whole of character goes into the slight- est acts. Two sentences in conversation show whether the speaker is a scholar or an ignoramus. We say of a single remark made by an acquaint- ance or repeated by one who heard him, "That sounds just like him." We say of an effective writer, not how well he expresses his thought, but how well he expresses himself. Tradition has it that Michel Angelo, finding a friend was not at home, drew swiftly with a bit of charcoal a circle on the door, and the friend on returning knew who had been there, for no other could sweep such a curve. It is considered wrong to mar the beauty of nature by glaring advertisements painted on picturesque ledges. The wrong is not to nature, but to persons who are deprived of enjoyment, or are offended by the obtruding and impertinent ugliness. The moral ideal, expressed in rules or in principles, is the ideal of a person. The person is the end or object in view. There is nothing beyond, no abstract right or good, for the sake of which, or for the glory of which, the person is a means. There is no goodness which is not the goodness of persons. There is no reservoir of good- ness stored up somewhere. The only fountain of goodness is the heart. 64 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD IV The Moral Ideal is an ideal of the Good or Well-being of persons. It is an ideal, not of their being, but of their well-being. That is a partial, or even erroneous theory which regards morality as merely an advantage for the preservation of the species. Such a theory reduces morality to a struggle for existence. Being, or existence, is the condition of well-being. Man exists in order to be of a certain character, in order to enjoy certain goods. While virtue is conducive to pro- longed life, the end in view is the breadth and depth, as well as the length of life. Longevity does not measure wickedness. About the worst thing the wise man could think of was gray hairs and wickedness therewith. Moreover, immoral persons do not cease to exist. Gray-headed sin- ners are not uncommon. The race has survived periods of almost universal immorality. Not all bad communities have had the fate of Sodom. The relation of morality to the struggle for exist- ence is to be considered at a later stage of the discussion, and need not now be introduced into the inquiry concerning the nature of the ideal, to which we therefore proceed. The ideal of the good has two elements, one of which is primary, the other secondary. The primary element may be best characterized, al- though with more or less vagueness, as worth ; the secondary element, also with some vagueness, WORTH 65 as happiness. The vagueness is in the nature of the thing. A human value, experience, pleas- ure, cannot be exactly weighed and measured. Quality cannot be reduced to quantitative inches and ounces. Ideal satisfactions are even less capable of precise definition than actual experi- ences. The charge of vagueness is brought by the opponents of every ethical theory, and always with some success. But also it is a charge which can always be retorted. Those who declare that happiness is the primary element, the very original stuff, of virtue, say that the theory which makes worth or perfection primary is vague. But, so far as that is concerned, happiness is a condition which eludes or even defies analysis, just as it proverbially escapes pursuit. I will indicate, as well as I can, what is meant by the theory that the moral ideal is an ideal of personal worth. The moral ideal is the person himself in the quality and completeness of his character. It is the better person. Various terms are employed to desig- nate this good ; worth, perfection, value, dignity, self-realization, character, satisfaction. Man has a certain constitution. He has certain powers, fac- ulties, sensibilities, capacities, relations. The ideal of man, of his well-being or good, is an ideal of the harmony of all his powers, the symmetrical pro- portions of his faculties in use and satisfaction. There is a gradation of higher and lower desires, each of which has its right and place. The good man satisfies his desires in right measure. He does not allow the lower to be the masters, but makes them the servants of the higher. To live 66 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD for physical indulgence is unworthy. To cultivate the intellectual faculties and neglect the sym- pathetic is wrong. Whatever classification of man's powers may be adopted, some gradation of higher and lower is recognized. Actions are measured and described according to such a scale. A wrong act is base, low, groveling. A good act is high, lofty, or even sublime. The good man, we say, is above certain actions ; it would be be- neath him to do them ; he would not condescend or stoop to such behavior. In the gradation and proportion of powers is the ideal of well-being. The good man is the symmetrical man. He is one in whom there is no inner discord, no conflict, no disharmony. The man himself is already given. He is a physical, intellectual, sympathetic being. He has his powers, and their harmony is his perfection. Holiness is wholeness. As matter of fact he has misused some of his powers. He has cultivated or satisfied some and neglected others. The ideal, however, is not of a different kind of creature, but of this creature in the right and proportionate exercise of his powers. Curious questions may be asked which attempt to go farther back. But such questions cannot be an- swered. If it is asked why the intellectual is superior to the physical, and why kindness is su- perior to knowledge, and whether our ideas of morality would not have been different if this gradation had been reversed so that the physical should be of higher value than the intellectual and the intellectual than the moral and spiritual, no answer can be given. Certain good results of WORTH 67 the existing constitution may be pointed out, but they merely reiterate the well-known facts of man's actual endowments, of his social rela- tions, and his place in the world. There might conceivably be a different order of beings, but they could be regarded as moral or non-moral only by a being who is himself moral, a being, that is, who, to all practical intents and purposes, is a man. Darwin did, indeed, try to picture moral beings entirely different from men, but he had to apply his own moral judgment to determine what would be right and wrong for them, and discov- ered that morality would be that which corresponds to their constitution, that which would be best for the species and for each individual in it, according to their nature. By accommodation, morality is thus ascribed to imaginary orders, because the morality of men consists in their perfection accord- ing to their constitution. But no other morality is conceivable for man, just because man is him- self and not some other creature. There is man to begin with. Unless we can get rid of ourselves we cannot enact different laws of morality. Evo- lution supports the theory that the moral ideal is worth or perfection rather than pleasure or bare existence, for evolution is the law of the fullness or completenesss of life according to its kind. Self-preservation in order to self-realization is the complete formula of evolution. Professor Friedrich Paulsen of Berlin, one of the foremost ethical philosophers of Germany, and a thorough believer in evolution, discards the theory that pleasure is the highest good, and maintains that 68 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD it is the energy of being, directed to its own real- ization or perfection. He contrasts the two theo- ries under the names of Hedonism and Energism. Different forms of energism, he says, are styled self-preservation and self-realization, the harmo- nious development and exercise of all our powers, perfection, and the like. He remarks as a fact that will not be disputed that " the evolutionistic ethics of modern times accepts this view : a spe- cific type of life and the exercise of the same is the real aim of all life and striving." He says that the perfect is like the beautiful, not easily defined, consisting of an infinite variety of individual creations, portraying an ideal or type of perfec- tion. 1 Ethics and evolution agree that there is a type, an ideal, a normal life, which in the case of man is realized as morality. The duty laid on every one is to make the most and the best of himself. When duty is thus recognized, man obviously has an ideal of himself as better than he is, even perfect according to his type as a man, and according to his measure and characteristics as an individual. That which is ultimate is the person in his worth or perfection, and it is impos- sible to go farther back. The attempt is only .movement in a circle, in which the pursuer chases his own vanishing and reappearing figure. There is an intrinsic value in character, which is sometimes expressed in striking ways. It is the wisdom which the Hebrews distinguished from knowledge, and which they said could not be got- 1 Introduction to Philosophy, translated by Frank Thilly, pp. 421-424. WORTH 69 ten for gold nor weighed against silver. No men- tion could be made of the ordinary coral or crystal, for the price of wisdom is above the incomparable ruby. The estimation of a true man is of one who cannot be bought. If a man is said to be worth a million dollars the phrase is used carelessly, unless indeed he has sold himself for sordid gold, has bartered away honor and truth for material wealth. The absolute worth of man received forcible and final expression in the question of Jesus, What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul, or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? The best works of man have no equivalent in any other value. The twenty pounds given by a publisher for the " Paradise Lost," the price paid to Michel Angelo for building St. Peter's, or to Eaphael for painting the Sistine Madonna, or for any of the artistic, intellectual, and spiritual creations which have permanently enriched the world, are no representative of the human value of those works. The stipend is in- tended only to supply the coarser wants, that all time and thought may be given to the finer crea- tions. The choicest works of art, works which cannot be multiplied by the cleverest copyists, pass out of the market and cease to have a monetary value. Kant's distinction between exchangeable and unexchangeable possessions recognizes an ab- solute worth which is unpurchasable. The one kind of possession can be replaced by something which is equivalent, that is, it can be bought and sold. The other kind of possession admits of no equivalent and has dignity. He reckons fidelity 70 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD to promises, benevolence from principle, and all the virtues, as having intrinsic or absolute worth, whether or not these particular distinctions are adopted. The fact is recognized by all that every person is an end in himself, as having intrinsic worth and value, and that the man himself, in the harmony and perfection of his powers, is the end at which all things aim, not that which aims at some- thing else. The intrinsic worth of character is very clearly recognized in the opinion that one may not for any apparent good to another sacrifice his own worthi- ness, and that he may not appeal to unworthy motives. Paul was debtor to Greeks and Barbari- ans, but he owed them no service which would be a sacrifice of truth or of his own conscientious convictions. Anything but his character he could sacrifice for his countrymen. It was only in imagination that he could wish himself anathema from Christ Jesus, for their sakes. There may have been those who thought they were willing to be damned for the glory of God, but it was only because damnation was regarded as external pain, a condition of physical suffering, and not as hatred of God and of righteousness. We disap- prove an intentional appeal to unworthy motives. Nothing angers us o much as the suspicion that we have been used, that we have been flattered, to promote another person's objects, and then have been cast aside. The question whether it is ever justifiable to tell a lie, as in sickness, in danger, in war, where the advantage is obvious, may be an- swered in the affirmative, and yet one is not satis- WORTH 71 fied with himself however cogent the justification may be. The best reason that can be given for this dissatisfaction is that it is an offense against one's own dignity, a denial of his very self. He goes against reality. He professes to be what he is not. Kant says that a lie is the abandonment, or, as it were, the very annihilation of the dignity of man. Dr. Martineau, who discusses the ques- tion at length, says that the liar commits offense against his own thoughts and feelings, which he assumes to be expressing, and also against the beliefs and feelings which are authorized by reality as accordant with the nature of things and the course of the world. This accounts for the duty of accepting martyrdom rather than to be false to a genuine conviction, which is to be false to one's own self. The abolition of slavery, which, for a time, may make men more wretched, rests on the conviction that every human being has an inalien- able right to his own person. All such considerations suggest the absolute worth of man as man, his right to himself, his own perfection or worth as the end he should seek. The moral ideal is the ideal of the person having the powers with which he is endowed, and cultivating them, in their true pro- portion and symmetry, into the perfect character. This is the end for which all things exist, and there is no higher end beyond it. I have admitted that there is some vagueness in the definition of the moral ideal as perfection or worth, but if it stands for reality and experience, which are felt more easily than they are described, the vagueness is a minor objection which need not be regarded, and 72 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD especially as it pertains to every theory of morality, as will be seen when we consider some alternative theories. VI The other element, which I have mentioned as secondary, but which is not readily distinguished and is never separated from morality, is the sat- isfaction or happiness which accompanies moral action. The ideal may be regarded as consisting of worth and happiness, the happiness being con- sequent upon, or incident to, the worth attained. The relation is that of cause and effect, and there- fore one is never found without the other, one is often mistaken for the other. Neither alone con- stitutes the moral ideal. Neither alone is aimed at. They are together, like heat and light. A theory which regards only one has truth enough to be plausible, but not truth enough to be satis- factory. I indicate, at this point, the presence of happiness or satisfaction, and postpone to the chapter on Hedonism a criticism of the theory which makes morality nothing but happiness. Man is so constituted that whatever promotes his right development promotes his happiness, and whatever hinders or disturbs his right development gives him discomfort, pain, or wretchedness. He is happy in his righteousness and unhappy in his sin. Virtue and pleasure are inseparable. Wrong- doing and pain are inseparable. If goodness is according to the constitution of man, and badness contrary to his constitution, it cannot be otherwise. One measure of virtue is its agreeableness. One measure of vice is its disagreeableness. The very HAPPINESS , 73 words, agreeable, and disagreeable, are not without suggestiveness. Virtue is that which agrees with a man, which is in the agreement or harmony of his powers. Sin is that which disagrees with a man, which is in the disagreement or disharmony of his powers. Virtue agrees with him and so is agreeable. Vice disagrees with him and so is disagreeable. One may not, at the moment of choice, be conscious of the happiness or unhappi- ness. The virtue may seem to bring pain, the vice to bring pleasure. But in the end and on the whole there is satisfaction in virtue and dissatisfaction" in vice. It has therefore seemed to some ethical philosophers that happiness is the object and the very nature of virtue, that they are interchangea- ble terms, and that unhappiness is the very nature of wrong, although it may be chosen under the mistaken impression that it will give pleasure. That remains to be considered, but there certainly can be no question that happiness or satisfaction is an essential element of virtue. The notion that the degree of virtue is measured by the amount of disagreeableness is a singular perversion of the truth. It is sometimes said that there is no virtue in the act of a person, because he likes to do it, would rather do it than not. But inclination en- hances virtue rather than reduces it. Goodness which struggles against perverse inclinations is of a lower grade than goodness which runs parallel with inclination. One who can say of his obedi- ence that it is his meat and drink, his very life, is better than one whose obedience is reluctant, who thinks he would be happier in disobedience. Ex- 74 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD ternal compliance without inward disposition is not real goodness. If one is living in accordance with his natural and moral constitution, and with the constitution of society, he cannot but be happy. There can be no satisfaction to compare with the realization of that good which is the harmony of man with himself and with his fellow-men. Incapacity for enjoyment is a defect. A sour man is as unnatural as a sad child. One who never smiles should be kept in solitary confine- ment. Zest is the secret of perpetual youth. Genius has been characterized as the feelings of youth carried over into the pursuits of manhood. Enthusiasm is the glad, free movement of good- ness flowing spontaneously along, like a living stream. It bubbles up from the spring. It dances laughingly on in the brook. It widens its banks and deepens its currents in the river, as with silent, powerful strength it seeks the ocean. The joy of age is not the joy of youth. It is not bois- terous and demonstrative. Its waters are more still because they are more deep. It is peace rather than joy ; blessedness rather than happi- ness. It is serene but not stagnant. I am not saying that virtue avoids pains and cares. But in the ideal state there would be none. They are due to the neglect and contradiction of virtue in self or in others. Goodness may be refined by bearing them. But it is not overcome by them, does not lose hope, and even has a deeper peace as it con- verts them into helpers of its joy. Virtue may be rugged, severe, majestic, but strength is not the foe of gladness. Strength rejoices in its power. HAPPINESS 75 If to be weak is miserable, doing or suffering, to be strong is glorious, achieving or enduring. The joy of massive strength is not frivolous, but is therefore all the more glad, and all the more ca- pable of awakening hope in others. It rings with denunciation of the wrong. It turns a wrathful countenance on meanness and baseness. It may even lay violent hands on the workers of iniquity. But righteous indignation, which succeeds in over- throwing wickedness in high places, is not un- happy. It sings the song of triumph, which is reechoed in the plaudits of the people. The virtue which is massive and even ponderous in its move- ments, which is unyielding, unrelenting, severe, is oftenest the virtue which is clothed with gentle graces, as a craggy mountain is beautiful with ver- dure and flowers. The strongest muscles have the softest touch. Chivalry unites strength and gen- tleness. The truth, then, is that goodness in its every form has gladness. In its virile and its womanly forms, in its severest aspects, in 'its achievement and in its endurance, it has conscious worth as the real value of character in the satis- faction of the person true to his ideal self. The happiness of virtue may be compared to the joy of scholarship. The scholar searching after truth, absorbed in pursuit of knowledge, eager to discover facts, may forego comforts, deny himself pleasures, sacrifice sleep, and endure poverty. But such deprivations are no hardships. His delight in finding truth, in gaining the clue to facts, in dis- covering the law of phenomena, is keener than all the happiness from which he turns away. When- 76 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD ever the scientist, the linguist, the philosopher dis- covers a fact, a law, a principle, he can scarcely be restrained from rushing though the streets with the old Eureka shout. And while it is not that final shout for which he expends his toil, yet the satis- faction of knowing the truth is essential to the search for truth. It is the truth which is valued. The satisfaction does not create the value, but the value creates the satisfaction. Yet the two are in- separable. The purity, the unselfishness, and the satisfaction of a scholar's devotion is the likest thing there is to virtue. It is, in fact, intellectual virtue. It is love of truth for truth's sake. We have to apply ethical terms to the scholar's devotion. We describe it as intellectual honesty, or disinterested scholarship, or love of the truth. The two ele- ments, intrinsic value and happiness, are there, as they are in virtue, distinguishable but inseparable. VII 'The moral ideal, then, is the highest good of persons, a good from which happiness or satisfac- tion is never absent. It remains only to observe that it is an ideal of persons in society, a social ideal. This would follow from the considerations presented in the previous chapter. There are, however, conditions in the absolute value of every person and in extension of regard for personal rights which require recognition of the social ideal. The ideal as personal is of the person regarded as an end in himself. It is therefore the ideal of other persons as ends in themselves, and to be served as such. Every one has inalienable rights which he PERSONAL AND SOCIAL , 77 can claim and exercise on grounds of simple jus- tice. Every one therefore has duties correspond- ing to the rights of others. Emphasis may vary in precedence given to rights or to duties, and the emphasis may mark the difference between a sinner and a saint. The sinner says : My rights, your duties. The saint says : Your rights, my duties. But in an ideal state there would be exact corre- spondence, a perfect relation of justice and benevo- lence. Every man has his own indefeasible rights which another may not take from him nor invade. This is perfectly expressed in one of the maxims of Kant : " Act so as to treat humanity, whether in your own person or in that of others, always as an end, never merely as a means." It is stated rather mechanically as a numerical finality in the axiom of Utilitarian ethics : " Every one should count for one, and no one for more than one." It is embodied in the old definition of justice as Suum cuique, giving to each his own. The ideal of personal worth means that every human being has an absolute value. The attainment of good by one should therefore promote the attainment of it by all. If the possession or enjoyment of one deprives others of that to which they are entitled, it is not a good even to the person who so regards it. A vast deal of energy has been expended in debating the question how the passage is effected from the rights of the individual to the rights of others. Those who are familiar with the history of the discussion will recall the challenge thrown down to the Utilitarians on this very question. They had taken the theory of the Hedonists that the 78 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD greatest happiness determines all moral actions of the individual. The reason he is kind to others is that he is thereby made happy himself. The Utilitarians maintained that it is the duty of every one to seek the happiness of others, the greatest happiness of the greatest number. But they were challenged to explain how, if one's own happiness is decisive for all his action, it can possibly be his duty to seek equally the happiness of others except as their happiness makes him happy, in which case he is really seeking not their happiness but his own. It was a foolish debate, for it made the false assumption that there is, or ever was, or ever will be, an isolated individual, seeking exclu- sively his own happiness, or anything else, out of relation to his fellow-men. He is part of society. His life is in relation. He receives and gives con- stantly in the organism of which he is a member. Separation from it is death. As the leaf of a rose, after it is pulled out, is not a complete leaf, but is already decomposing as it falls to the ground, so a man is not a true man who is not in vital relation with his fellow-men in society. He is not an end to which other men are means, nor are other men ends to which he is means, but every man is at the same time end and means in the social organism. The Utilitarians were said to have taken a leap in getting from the happiness of the individual to the happiness of the greatest number, or at least to have thrown across the chasm the insecure bridge of native sympathetic instincts, which their oppo- nents regarded merely as sentiments that make the sympathizer happy. But there really was no PERSONAL AND SOCIAL , 79 chasm to cross. There can be no true happiness of an individual which is not the happiness of others. There can be no happiness of others which is not the happiness of the individual who perceives or promotes it. The advance of morality is towards a widening extension of the range of persons until in fact as well as in name all are included. The change which has been going on is not so much, perhaps, in the intensity of the feeling of duty to a fellow- man, because it has always been strong in the family, the tribe, and the nation, but in the range. This universal extension has been gained by recog- nition of the rights and possibilities of man as a rational and moral being, regardless of artificial conditions of place or race. The late Professor T. H. Green epitomized it by saying that it is not the sense of duty to a neighbor, but the practical answer to the question, Who is my neighbor, that has varied. l Some are doubtful whether men are the better for this widening of range. It is said that the friend of man is apt to be the friend of no one in particular. Enthusiasm for humanity does indeed become a cant phrase. Any prin- ciple may be abused. Phrases may become so smoothly worn that they cease to represent any value. But it may well be believed that the value of one's own morality increases by the removal of limitations which had narrowed his conception of the rights of humanity. The habit of duty is cer- tainly strengthened by constant and varied calls for its practice. The very discussion of a possible 1 Prolegomena to Ethics, p. 220. 80 THE MORAL IDEAL THE GOOD loss of depth by the extension of breadth shows how wide the enlargement is. Social sentiment condemns the refusal to help any one in need, however alien he may be by language, condi- tion, or distance. A famine in any part of the world appeals successfully to the humane feelings. The point has been reached at which the ques- tion arises whether it is right, even in war, to sus- pend the claims of common humanity. Atrocities which were once unrebuked are now condemned. The Japanese have learned to be humane in the treatment of prisoners of war. Mr. Pearson argues that the practical limit of human interest and duty is national, and believes this is as it should be, that progress is to be expected through national prosperity. This may be true in respect to diplomacy and economics, although the nations are bound together by a commercial reciprocity which is a surer preventive of war than the shrewdest diplomacy. When swords have once been beaten into plowshares, it is no easy task to reverse the process and to forge plowshares into swords. The farmer has no notion of fighting with his best customers. Free trade in intellectual produce is so unrestricted that foreign science, lit- erature, philosophy, and theology are appraised at a higher value than the native. Americans, at least, prefer to import their intellectual supplies. The missionary impulse, on the other hand, ex- ports its values. Christians and Buddhists carry their spiritual product to foreign nations. While duties are practically determined by neighborhood of locality and nation, yet the rights and needs of PERSONAL AND SOCIAL / 81 any one in the whole wide world may place obliga- tion upon any other. The moral law has now been recognized as personal, as personal good or well-being, as that good which consists in value, worth, or perfection of character according to the normal human type, as a value which produces happiness, and as a value which is absolute and therefore the right of every person. The moral ideal is a social ideal. The sense of obligation has not been discussed, but only mentioned. But morality is imperative. Duty, right, conscience, law, are distinctive char- acteristics and conditions of morality. I therefore proceed in the next chapter to the consideration of Moral Law, or the Eight. After the relation of the Good and the Right has been recognized, the theory that happiness is the object and motive of virtue will be criticised. CHAPTER IV THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT THE Good is an ideal which is imperative. It issues orders. The authoritative character of mo- rality is generally and popularly recognized in the terms commonly employed to designate the moral : duty, right, law, obligation, ought, conscience. The imperative of morality is the Eight. The author- ity of morality is Law. Eight and Law are, prac- tically, equivalent terms. The Eight is that which ought to be done. It is a Law to be obeyed. This characteristic of morality, or of man as moral, excites wonder and admiration. That feel- ing of obligation which impels one to sacrifice comfort, pleasure, reputation, friendship, and life itself, gives man his nobility. It has sacredness. Every one has the feeling, and has it every day of his life, yet regards it with reverence, almost with awe. As familiar as the starry heavens, it also, like those countless and distant orbs, excites unfailing wonder. This, in fact, is the standard comparison, constantly repeated in the .well-known saying of Kant : " Two things fill the mind with ever new and increasing admiration and awe, the starry heavens above and the moral law within." The poet's apostrophe to duty takes up the same figure THE IMPERATIVE OF RIGHT 83 and pursues it still farther in the obedience to law which controls the sweep of the silent spheres in their orbits : " Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong ; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong." It is not strange that the sacred sense of obliga- tion has been regarded as the whole of *morality, as the very nature of it, and the strengthening of this sense as the object of morality. The inviola- bility of conscience, even when judgment is mis- taken, seems to make oughtness the sum and substance of virtue. It is thought that there is nothing back of that, that the right is right be- cause it is right, that it is intuitive, and incapable of analysis into other elements. It is considered almost a profanation to seek the origin of the sense of obligation in other feelings, to trace it to some advantage gained by it, or to regard it as in any way subordinate to other ends. And, indeed, even if something may be learned about the circum- stances which first called it into exercise, and even if it is found that there has been a development of it, it still remains so distinctive of man, and so absolute in its imperative, that wonder is only in- creased. The genesis of conscience is of less con- sequence than its nature and reality. We should recognize it for what it is before we discuss and in order that we may discuss theories of its origin. It may not be possible to understand its origin. We may conclude that it is a native endowment which differentiated man from lower beings, and which, with other endowments, simply constituted 84 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT him man. At the best, beginnings are obscure, and cannot be fully understood. The genesis of a thing may go but a little way to explain the nature of the thing. We will pursue our inquiry con- cerning the Right in the reality as we know it, and consider its origin afterwards. II The Right is determined by and is correlative to the Good. Obligation is the requirement we make of ourselves to realize the Good. I do not regard obligation as ultimate, in the sense that it is independent, that it is a conviction or sentiment which rests on nothing other than itself. Unless an ideal is perceived, there is no meaning in obli- gation. The good determines the right. In this respect, I am aware that I seem to differ from some ethical writers, who put the right first, and endeavor to determine the good by the right, who maintain that the good is known by knowing what duty is. This relation is the reverse of the truth. The law which proclaims the right and prescribes duty is derived from the good to be realized. To turn the relation about is simply impossible. It is therefore found that those who discuss the right first and the good afterwards make implicit in the representation of the right all that is subsequently made explicit in the exposition of the good. If duty is for the sake of duty, one thing might as well be required as another. An apt illustration given by Janet disposes of that notion : " A moral law which should require us to break stones with- out any object, for the sake simply of breaking our THE RIGHT AND THE GOOD, 85 wills, would be a law void of all content, and con- sequently senseless. The recluses of the Thebaid, who tired themselves out in watering dead sticks, furnish us with a perfect illustration of a purely formal law, freed from every material object. Such an action might be useful as an ingenious apologue, by which the recluses constantly remind themselves of the vanity of human labor; but if we take it as the perfect type of morality, we fall into the absurd and impracticable." 1 During a season of industrial depression, a manufacturer employed his workmen in grading the grounds about the mill. He said it was really and only to give them work, but that he allowed them to think it was work that needed to be done, so that they might do it with self-respect. A popular story tells about a man who was employed in copying from the " Britannica " four hours a day, and who finally refused to go on, just because he knew the work was useless. The right then is determined by the good, the moral law by the moral ideal. If this relation is expressed in a single statement, it would give the following proposition : Moral Law, or the Right, is the Moral Ideal, or the Good, rec- ognized as obligatory and authoritative. In other words, the right is completely correlative to the good. In technical language it would be said that the Good is the material principle and the Eight is the formal principle. The opinion that the right is intuitively known is easily explained. Certain acts have long been believed to realize the ideal of the good, and opposite acts to defeat it. 1 Theory of Morals, p. 31. 86 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT These are the virtues which are always and every- where approved, the vices which are universally condemned. The corresponding commands and prohibitions seem therefore to be immediate, and we are apt to regard them as intrinsically right, to say of them that they are right just because they are right. But, on reflection, they are seen to be the conditions of good character and of the well-being of society. The conviction that truth- fulness, honesty, chastity are right, seems to be intuitive, but the conviction is really recognition of the necessary characteristics of the moral ideal. in For the purposes of the present inquiry it is not necessary to enter at length into careful definition of the various terms which designate the Right. A brief statement will be sufficent to indicate that which is signified by all of them. Law is a mode of energy or action. It is the way in which power acts or should act. The laws of nature are the modes in which force acts. Intel- lectual laws are the modes in which mental powers perceive and reason, as in logic and mathematics ; and moral laws are the modes in which the will acts. Moral law is the requirement, self-imposed or imposed by others, to put forth power in order to realize some end. The energy of the forces of nature is necessitated, and law is the mode of necessary action. The action of man is self-deter- mined, and law is requirement, not necessity. It requires the realization of the ideal for himself and for others. Laws therefore are not abstract. They LAW DUTY OBLIGATION 87 have no independent existence. They are simply the modes in which energy acts, or should act. They may be generalized because modes of action are uniform and regular. The results of human action may be perceived as the ideal before they are realized in conduct, but the foreseen results are simply the man himself thought of as having a cer- tain character and doing certain acts. The law of God is simply God himself as he is and as he acts, or the character and action he requires of man. There is nothing impersonal nor abstract. If there were no persons there would be no moral law. If there were no universe there would be no laws of nature. If the universe was created, there were no laws of nature when it was uncreated, except as thoughts in the Creator's mind of the energies and phenomena of the universe to be created. Moral laws then are the modes in which man acts, or should act. The laws are found in the results of action, in what man is and does. The ideal gives the law, for it is the result to which all moral aims and actions are directed. The other terms, obligation, ought, duty, mean simply the feeling or conviction of man that he should put forth his energy to obey the law, that is, to realize the ideal. It is not necessary to indi- cate, to a nicety, the exact signification of each of these terms. We wish to recognize the nature, value, and origin of the sense of duty, and it is enough to note that moral law is the moral ideal recognized as obligatory and authoritative. 88 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT IV The good and the right are completely correla- tive. The good is not greater than the right. The right is not less than the good. Not part but the whole of the ideal is obligatory. Whatever con- stitutes well-being constitutes duty. If it is said that a good must sometimes be sacrificed for the sake of duty, the reply is that it is a relative, not an absolute good. The highest good, that which is good on the whole, cannot be sacrificed, but for the sake of it the lower good is relinquished. Health is a good, but if it can be preserved only by sacrificing a higher good, it is no part of duty. In fact, the decision of right is made on that very ground. In that case, health is not a good, for the good is the best. Health or pleasure may cost too much. The price might be another person's life. Soundness of limb is not a good when one pays for it by bankruptcy of patriotism. The moral ideal is the greatest good. It is the best character. No feature, quality, attainment, or sat- isfaction of this ideal may be neglected. All of it proclaims law. To'realize it is right. Not to realize it is wrong. There are, therefore, no works of supererogation. There are no saintly deeds which are not obliga- tory. If penances, pilgrimages, and retreats, rather than some other uses of time, are for the good of one's soul, there is a corresponding duty. Such acts may be over and above that which is custom- ary. There may be no social or ecclesiastical law which requires them, as there is no civil law which GOOD AND RIGHT CORRELATIVE 89 requires one to send his son to college. Such acts are not good for all persons, and so there is no uni- versal law requiring them. But if they are for the good of the person himself, and are not at the cost of a greater good, they are his bounden duty. So-called works of supererogation are usually a loss rather than a gain, both in waste of time and in impaired fitness for the real work of life. They might better be called, if a word may be coined, works of suberogation or contraerogation. But self -culture, to the utmost and finest degree pos- sible, is every person's duty. If any works or de- privals are regarded as more than duty, there is comparison with an imperfect ideal, an ideal which is no higher than the actual practice of the majority. There is no merit which is a surplus. All duty is meritorious. It is a strange perversion of thought when one remarks of the act of another that it has no merit, for he simply did his duty. So of benevolence and heroism. If they are good they are right ; and if they are right they are oblig- atory. If one can do an heroic act he ought to do it. It would be wrong not to do it. One founds an asylum, establishes a library, endows a college, goes out as a missionary. Not every one has the wealth or the qualifications for such services. No civil law requires them. But if he thinks such ser- vices are the best use of his money or his time, they are unmistakably his duty. If he is able to do such things he ought to do them. He may be praised because the service is large, or unusual, or difficult, or dangerous, and because he was under no coercion. But, after all, he has done only what 90 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT was his duty to do. Moreover, a man who amasses wealth and devotes no considerable part of it, either during his lifetime or by testament, to the public good, is severely reprobated for neglect of duty. It is also true that he who does more than law or custom requires is likely to think that he has done less, not more, than his duty. He sees an ideal better than his best doing. If he regards a deed as more than duty, he is actuated by unworthy motives, such as the love of praise or fame, and his virtue is vitiated. The Christian principle of stew- ardship is good ethics. According to what a man hath it is required of him. Expressed in modern phrase, it is the principle that obligation is meas- ured by ability. This man, therefore, may not go to that man to find the measure. Each is a law to himself. The greatest moral teacher carefully illustrates the gradation of duty on a sliding rather than a uniform scale in the parable of the talents. To one man ten talents were given, to another five, to another one, to each according to his several ability. The greatest apostle of Jesus estimated his duty or debt to Greek and Barbarian accord- ing to the measure of his own powers, defining it precisely in the significant words, " as much as in me is." A Syrian farmer of the time had no such duty because he had no such power. But still it is thought that there are kinds of good which impose no duty. The aesthetic is some- times distinguished from the ethical. The culti- vation and enjoyment of the beautiful is not re- garded as obligatory. Correct taste is not a duty. Lack of appreciation is not blameworthy. The GOOD AND RIGHT CORRELATIVE 91 aesthetic pertains simply to pleasure. It is refined pleasure. It is a lofty good. But it is not right- eousness. If one enjoys art and music, he is not the better morally ; neither, if he enjoys them not, is he the worse. Here, then, it is said, is a kind of good which has no moral quality. It is simply non- moral. It is unquestionably a good, for it is a source of pure enjoyment and a means of refine- ment. But it is altogether different from honesty and truthfulness. This view seems to find justifi- cation in the division of values into the true, the beautiful, and the good ; the true being the ra- tional, the beautiful the aesthetic, and the good the ethical. It is further maintained that when moral terms are applied to art, such terms as " a consci- entious artist," " a vicious taste," " a meritricious painting," it is only by way of accommodation to indicate correctness of taste and excellence of exe- cution, or their opposites. But a moment's reflection shows that art is not independent of morality. If art is a human good, there is a corresponding duty. If the absence of art would be a real loss to humanity, then there are some who ought to cultivate it. One who is artistic has a duty in the use of his powers of creation, both for his own perfection and for the refinement of those who appreciate art. It was Raphael's duty to paint Madonnas, Beethoven's to compose sym- phonies, Shakespeare's to write plays. It would have been wrong for them to do anything else, even if they had done other things well ; wrong for Ra- phael to preach, for Beethoven to teach philosophy, for Shakespeare to be a country squire or magis- 92 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT trate. It is difficult to estimate the full value of the aesthetic for the education, refinement, and eleva- tion of multitudes. Art and music are often called the handmaids of the church, and the church is the mightiest moral agency. Men should worship God in the beauty of holiness. The beauty of morality is its highest praise. The gratification of aesthetic taste may be disproportionate. Music or art may monopolize, and produce one-sidedness of character. They may promote an artificial sensibility. Feel- ing may be stimulated for the keen pleasurableness of the feeling. ^Estheticism is emotional self-indul- gence. But this is excess; and only the excess is immoral. The significant title of a magazine article is : " The Moral Dangers of Musical Devo- tees." At certain stages of civilization, other interests are so imperious that art must be neg- lected, and devotion to art be considered an impertinence. At least, there are some who think so. For my own part, I cannot see that the Puri- tan who stripped off the adornments of cathedrals was any stronger for being an iconoclast. If he had destroyed the cathedrals, as perhaps he would have liked to do, he could not be forgiven. Nor do I admit that the Puritan was destitute of the sense of beauty, in view of his own domestic archi- tecture remaining in some of the old houses of New England, in view of the poetry of Milton, and in view of the Puritan's love of the beauty and sublimity of the Hebrew Scriptures. At certain periods of personal life, periods of trial or of grave responsibility, the aesthetic makes no appeal. One is building up character on other foundations. THE UNITING PRINCIPLE 93 But he may meet the storm and bear the stress of life better because art and literature, as well as religion, have refined away vulgarity and coarse- ness, and have helped to make him the quiet, discerning, patient, and hopeful man he is. And even at such times, the beauty of rural scenes, the strains of solemn music, the grace of culture on some open page or in the talk of a friend, may be ministers of comfort and of strength. In what- ever measure, I repeat, the aesthetic is a good, in that measure it is a duty. There is a morality of beauty and a beauty of morality. If it is true of that good which is thought to be most distinct from morality that it ought in proper conditions and in proportionate measure to be realized, it must be true of other human goods, industrial, political, scientific, literary, and they need not detain us. If a man has ten talents, every one of them represents a value and implies a correspond- ing duty. The tenth has its rights as truly as the first or the second. There is no exception, then, to the relation of the moral law to the moral ideal. The good determines the right, and the right is completely correlative to the good. We now look for a principle which can take these related values of perfection and sacred obli- gation into union. As they can be separated only in thought, may there not be some conception or sentiment which embodies both, which combines the worth of the ideal with the intensity of duty ? There is a single word which includes both concep- 94 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT tions. It is, on the whole, the best, and it is also the most familiar conception of virtue. It is a word which stands with equal distinctiveness for the good and the right. This word is " love." The object of love is persons in their ideal worth ; the devotion of love to its object is sense of duty car- ried to the highest power. Love is never thought of apart from its object ; it is never thought of except as complete devotion to its object. Love has in view the worth of the object ; it cannot be turned away from seeking that worth. The ideal it promotes is nothing short of perfection ; the ob- ligation to promote the ideal is the supreme law of life. Love seeks the good of those who are loved ; it seeks their good with a reigning devotion. It is as extensive as the complete ideal of character ; it is as intensive as the utter self-devotion of duty. It is comprehensive in scope ; it is all-absorbing in consecration. It denotes also the feeling of deep- est satisfaction in promoting good and doing right. Love transfigures duty into joy. It has blessedness in fulfilling the law. It has delight in service. Thus it combines all the elements of virtue. It sees and seeks the good of persons ; it raises duty to the highest power ; it finds happiness in perfect obedience to perfect law. It also has the advantage of common use. The word has been fused in the heat and glow of human experience. From birth to death, love ennobles and beautifies every period of existence. It gives their true value to the near- est relationships. Love is the dearest word of child- hood, the deepest word of manhood and woman- hood, the tenderest word of age, the sacredest THE UNITING PRINCIPLE , 95 word of religion. It was gathering meaning through the ages, as the family rooted itself in affection, as friendships rang more true, as human- ity became more humane, till it was a prepared word seized by the greatest moral teacher to char- acterize goodness. In the fullness of time the word was found which signifies the true good, the absolute right, the complete blessedness. The truth and value of it had been adumbrated in hu- manity's best, and so could be adopted as the final and comprehensive word for virtue : " Tho' truths in manhood darkly join, Deep-seated in our mystic frame, We yield all blessing 1 to the name Of Him that made them current coin. " 1 In plainer speech, we are indebted to Christian- ity for the truth that goodness is love and that love is the fulfillment of the law. The chief of the Christian apostles showed this in detail by taking up the several commandments and showing that they are the expressions of love, and that love is therefore the fulfilling of the law. The most forci- ble and original ethical teacher America has pro- duced adopted for his published system the title : " The Law of Love and Love as a Law." Love is not to be regarded, however, as the real- ization of virtue unless it is taken in the largest sense. If it is employed only to signify devotion to others at the cost of self-effacement, if it is equivalent only to that which ethics designates as altruism, it cannot be accepted as the correct and sufficient principle of morality. But if it includes 1 In Memoriam. 96 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT self-love, as well as love to others, and makes them the reciprocal condition of each other, it is the best term we have to express all the elements of moral- ity. In the sixth chapter I shall endeavor to show that true self-love is not a mere accommodation of language, but that it is one hemisphere of morality, that it is distinguished from selfishness on the one hand, and from altruism on the other hand. It will be seen that love seeks the perfection of the one loved, and that therefore, as self-perfection is every one's duty, self-love is essential to morality. It will also be seen that, if self-love is ignored, one of the important factors of evolution is con- verted from an ally to an enemy of virtue. With this understanding, " love "is to be regarded as the most satisfactory term for the good and the right, for love seeks the good in character, and obeys law in every energy of its being. It does right not for the sake of right but for the sake of persons. It does not do away with obligation, but makes duty sacred. VI Two inquiries remain. One pertains to the ori- gin and permanence of the sense of obligation, the other to the nature of conscience. The origin of the sense of obligation has been found, by some writers, in coercion. The chief of a tribe gains power and requires certain actions under threats of penalty. The fear or experience of the penalty constrains men to obey. Long continuance of these condi- tions establishes requirements as rights and ser- vices as duties. Thus arise rights of property, ORIGIN OF OBLIGATION 97 rights in certain women, rights of government, and corresponding duties of honesty, chastity, patriotism. Later the origin of rights and duties is forgotten. They seem to be inherent. Custom has strengthened them. But they really originate in coercion on the one side and fear on the other. When custom is ingrained, coercion is relaxed. Men believe that rights and duties are the neces- sary conditions of society and of individual well- being. But this theory, at the most, gives only the occasion which elicits the sense of obligation. It does not find the producing cause. There are men to start with, and men in a social organism. There are chiefs who gain power, and render some return of protection for services exacted. Laws must have some approximate correspondence to the good of men in society. A chief would not for long re- tain authority if he required every savage to burn his hut as soon as it was completed, to strangle every child as soon as it was born, to surrender all the women to the chief, to cut off one hand as a token of fealty, or in any way to incapacitate him- self totally for enjoyment and production. Coer- cion could not convince savages that what is bad for them is good for them. The duties required must have some correspondence to their desires and needs as men. Atrocious cruelties have indeed been practiced by those who had power, but exces- sive straining of authority to the injury of men is at length resented and denied with a vindictiveness which is rooted in the sense of wrong. It is quite unnecessary to argue this theory of coercion, for it assumes that the moral sense was added to human 98 THE MORAL LA W THE RIGHT nature at a time when social reciprocity was already found in tribes and families. Authority, enforcing rights and demanding duties, may appeal to, but cannot create, the sense of obligation. The occa- sion of morality and its validity are not identical. The conviction that chastity is a virtue is thought by some to have originated in the possession of women as private property, and in jealousy to- wards those who infringe on the ownership. But when property rights in women no longer exist, chastity is even more highly regarded, nor does its integrity depend on jealousy. Justice is thought by some to have originated in feelings of resent- ment and revenge. But justice abides after vin- dictiveness is regarded as wrong. Revenge is itself a rude and rudimentary justice. Truthful- ness may have been demanded on pain of penalty, but when no penalty is threatened, truthfulness is all the more imperative. The validity of duty re- mains when the occasion which first elicited and sanctioned duty ceases. Coercion cannot account for the remorse of a Judas and a Macbeth nor for the death of martyrs and patriots. The origin of morality is placed at a much earlier date by those who believe that the moral was developed from the non-moral. Darwin fixed the exact point at which, as he conjectured, moral faculties appeared : " The following proposition seems to me in a high degree probable, namely, that any animal whatever, endowed with well- marked social instincts, would inevitably acquire a moral sense or conscience as soon as the intel- lectual powers had become as well developed, ORIGIN OF OBLIGATION 99 or nearly as well developed, as in man." 1 That is, the moral sense appeared in animals which were about as intelligent as man. The process is described as a comparison of the social with the selfish desires. The social feelings became strong and permanent, and asserted themselves against the intermittent selfish feelings. After hunger was satisfied by stolen food, the feeling of hunger was gone, but the social feeling remained. When the reflective powers were developed, past acts were remembered and compared. The reflecting animal perceived that the social is more important, or is better, than the selfish feeling. He saw that he should not have injured or neglected another to satisfy a transient desire. This conviction was strengthened by the approbation and disapproba- tion of other animals, and, when language was acquired, by the clear expression of such judg- ments. This theory certainly recognizes some of the conditions necessary to the existence and ex- ercise of moral feelings, but it may be questioned whether morality itself existed in the animals which preceded man. I go farther than this theory goes, and include the self-regarding as well as the social feelings in the conditions of morality. But apart from that, the theory stands or falls on comparison of feelings and estimate of their relative worth. There is no reason to believe that animals make or ever made such comparisons and estimates. It does not appear that the social feelings are stronger or more permanent than the selfish feel- ings. Physical appetites may be satisfied so as to 1 The Descent of Man, vol. i., pp. 68, 69. 100 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT be dormant, but they soon assert themselves again. Social instincts also may be satisfied, and then yield to the selfish instincts. If the selfish for the time is stronger and gives pleasure, there is no sign that it is afterwards remembered with regret or remorse. If the social feelings have been in- dulged, there is no sign of regret when the selfish feelings again have the upper hand. It is ex- tremely improbable that a hen thinks she was a fool to hatch out eggs when she might have been scratching up food for her own enjoyment, or that a cow regrets having filled herself with grass when she might have been suckling her calf. If com* parison of social with selfish feelings is made, and regret or approval is felt, there must be percep- tion of the relative worth, and not merely of the intensity or duration of feelings. The social must be regarded as nobler or better than the selfish impulses. The assumption is made that a simian ancestor recognized the intrinsic superiority of sympathetic over self-regarding feelings. Now, undoubtedly, the creature which does that is a moral being. He is thereby differentiated from all non-moral beings. He has that perception not as a non-moral, but as a moral being. When such comparisons and estimates are made, the simple fact is that man has appeared. A being which does not make such comparisons is an ani- mal. A being who does make such comparisons is a man. If there ever was a being which in the earlier part of its existence did not form such judgments, and in the later part of its existence did make them, that being became a man. The ORIGIN OF OBLIGATION 101 instant the first comparison was made and the rel- ative value of feelings was judged, the transforma- tion was so radical that, even if there was physical continuity, a new kind of being appeared. I sup- pose every one would have to confess utter igno- rance of the process of such a development, and utter inability even to imagine it. All we can say is, that man and animals have self-regarding and sympathetic feelings, that in the case of man the adjustment and relation of those feelings constitute large part of morality, and that man's estimate of their relative worth, value, rightfulness or wrong- fulness, is a perception which differentiates him from animals. They are like the psychical pecul- iarities of man, by which he reasons, judges, and imagines, which differentiate him from animals and make him the unique being he is. They appeared as something new. We do not know how the psychical and rational are developed from the physical and instinctive powers, nor how the moral is developed from the non-moral. When man appears, he is moral. When morality ap- pears, there is man. It should be noticed, before leaving this theory, that a very strange sort of being is imagined by Mr. Darwin as existing just before the moral sense appeared. It was a being with " intellectual powers as well developed, or nearly as well developed, as in man." A being with man's intellect but without his moral percep- tions must have been an extraordinary creature. It is evident that the addition of the moral sense can be conceived only if man is already given. And if man is already given, he is a being of 102 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT moral as well as of intellectual faculties. He did not get his intellect before he got his conscience. They appeared simultaneously, for the one in- volves the other. I am very far from denying that the materials of the human constitution ex- isted in lower orders. But in man the materials are differently compounded. As the combination of the same chemical elements at different poten- cies gives essentially different products, so the combination of the same materials gave different creatures. At least, it may have been so. At all events, man does combine self -regarding and social feelings in potencies of a higher degree than in any other order of beings. The new combination, effected perhaps instantly, as an electric spark may change the relation of chemical elements, produced man, who was not first an intellectual and then a moral being, but was both at once, and as both was man. Inquiry concerning the origin of the sense of obligation is simply inquiry con- cerning the origin of man. Duty was not merely an advantage, a utility, which man adopted after he had been man for a longer or shorter time. Without it man would not be man. It is his nature. These considerations effectually dispose of the opinion that sense of obligation may disappear. Mr. Herbert Spencer believes that the .sense of duty or moral obligation is transitory, and will diminish as fast as moralization increases. This opinion, he says, will be to most persons very startling. He instances cases in which duty be- comes pleasure. Husbands and wives, parents ORIGIN OF OBLIGATION , 103 and children, perform mutual duties without any thought of ought or must. This shows, he says, that even now, with some of the fundamental, other-regarding duties, the sense of obligation has retreated into the background of the mind. He argues that, with complete adaptation to the social state, that element in the moral consciousness which is expressed by the word, obligation, will disappear, that, in their proper times and places and proportions, the moral sentiments will guide men just as spontaneously and adequately as now do the sensations. If by obligation no more is meant than coer- cion from without, or self-compulsion overcoming unwillingness, then, indeed, obligation may dis- appear, for those are not essential elements of morality. But the conviction of Tightness, ought- ness, duty, will remain as long as man has before him an ideal of perfection to be realized, for the ideal is that which ought to be. Perfection will always be in advance. The point will never be reached where there is not a better and higher be- yond. There is real attainment. The ideal is not a constantly receding illusion. But each height gained commands a broader view. On the step- ping-stones of our living selves we evermore rise to higher things. It may therefore be believed that, as the ideal is enlarged and enriched, the feel- ing of oughtness will become stronger. Duty will be more, not less, sacred and imperative. After all, it is a question of the definition of terms. If obligation is defined as coercion, or as compulsion overcoming reluctance, it may disappear. If it is 104 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT recognition of the 'good as that which ought to be realized, it will not disappear. At any rate, if it is not to cease until there is " complete adapta- tion to the social state," its disappearance will be postponed indefinitely. Mr. Spencer's contention really is, that in heaven there will be no sense of obligation, for heaven is complete adaptation to the social state. Even that is not to be taken for granted, unless it is assumed that there is no progress in that higher state. Obedience to the divine will is about as good a conception of hea- ven as can be found, a conception expressed in the prayer : Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven. Will means law and obligation. The absence of constraint is freedom ; and freedom has been well defined as perfect obedience to per- fect law. If such obedience is imagined as desti- tute of the feeling of obligation, there is no mean- ing in words. Above all, duty, as we have seen, is at its highest power as love, in which there is joy. Obligation is most sacred when there is, not con- straint, but glad spontaneity. VII What is conscience? It is the moral faculty. It has two elements, a judgment and a conviction. There is an estimate of the value of an act. An end is in view which is perceived and appraised. This estimate is sometimes a comparison of values, or of satisfactions, by which one act is seen to be preferable to another, or better than another. Such comparisons and estimates are intellectual. In the light of reason, man judges acts, impulses, CONSCIENCE 105 qualities. These intellectual estimates are moral when they pertain to action. They have respect to ends which should be realized. Actions are ap- proved or disapproved, and this is a conviction ; the other element in conscience. There is the feeling of oughtness, of obligation. In some cases conscience seems to act without reflection. There is apparently no deliberation. The common virtues are instantly approved. But the acts of common virtue have become habitual by constant practice. They are approved by every- body. They do not need new appraisal. In other cases, time must be taken for reflection, and it is not always easy to decide. The word " conscience " suggests knowing, and even comparison. When the judgment is formed the feeling of obligation instantly follows. It is inseparable from the judg- ment. Conscience simply means the moral per- sonality perceiving and judging moral values, and having the feeling of obligation to act accord- ing to the judgment. It is not a distinct faculty. It is intellectual judgment and moral conviction. It is the person requiring of himself action which he approves. It is man regarded as moral. One of the best statements of the intellectual and moral elements in conscience is that made by Professor Samuel Harris : " What is true to the reason is law to the will." l Conscience is therefore supreme. It is the final authority. Appeal cannot be taken to any other tribunal. There may be an appeal back to con- science. The judgment may be revised by clearer 1 The Philosophical Basis of Theism, p. 193. 106 THE MORAL LAW THE RIGHT knowledge and further reflection. There is such a thing as an enlightened conscience. If any other authority, as the Bible, is accepted, it is be- cause conscience approves it. A broadened view is gained by experience, by actual progress towards the ideal. The more one realizes, the more he sees to be realized, as the more one knows, the more he sees to be known. In the largest sense, con- science, that is, man knowing and approving the right, sees the ideal with increasing clearness, full- ness, and fineness of perception. It is as Lotze says: "But that other part of conscience which enjoins us to make very large claims on existence, can only raise its voice in proportion as insight into the destiny of man and his place in nature increases. This nobler morality is never attained without the most active cooperation of the intel- lect, indeed never wholly without the cooperation of really scientific reflection, yet indeed never by these alone ; the experience of life itself is indis- pensable, life that in the increasing multiplicity of its ethical relations is ever bringing into con- sciousness fresh distinctions which before to a blunter sense seemed indifferent, but now to the growing moral sensibility seem as if they ought to be included in the science of human nature." * 1 Microcosmus, vol. L, p. 712. CHAPTER V THE HAPPINESS THEORY IT has been maintained by some ethical philoso- phers, ever since there has been any philosophy of morality at all, that the motive of conduct is found in the enjoyment of pleasure and the avoidance of pain. The term most commonly employed to de- signate this motive is "happiness." The Greek word for pleasure has been appropriated as the exact expression of the theory, which is therefore known as Hedonism. I have already stated that happi- ness is an essential element of morality. This chapter, then, is not necessary to the progress of the discussion, but may be regarded as a digression to be passed over by those who are not interested in weighing the reasons for and against the theory that virtue consists in the greatest happiness. It may be, however, that some readers would consider the discussion incomplete without recognition and criticism of the hedonistic theory, inasmuch as the study of ethics and the practice of morality meet Hedonism at every point. I take the ground that it contains a truth, but gives that truth an exagger- ated importance. This chapter therefore serves the additional purpose of showing the agreement which ethical philosophies have been approaching in recent years, an agreement alluded to in the opening chapter. 108 THE HAPPINESS THEORY I Hedonism, which means the happiness of the in- dividual, and Utilitarianism, which means the hap- piness of the greatest possible number of individu- als, have for a long time preserved their separate names to signify distinct and even opposing theories. They are, however, in principle the same, for both theories make happiness the object of conduct. The difference is that one is egoistic and the other altruistic. A new phrase is coming into use which is intended to include both theories. This phrase is, Universalistic Hedonism. It is adopted, prob- ably, because Utilitarianism is too suggestive of prudence and calculation, and because unqualified Hedonism savors too much of selfishness. Ra- tional Hedonism is a designation which has some currency, and which is employed to indicate the happiness approved by reason rather than the hap- piness of sensual enjoyment. I have advocated the opinion that right, or duty, is determined by the end to be realized, which is the worth or perfection of character, and with which happiness is associated. The question now before us pertains to the nature of the good which is obligatory. One school says it is happiness. Another school says it is worth or perfection. A third school says it is both. Differences of ethical theory are practically reduced to these opinions respecting the nature of the good ; for the intuitive philosophy which regards the right independently of results, as right because it is right, is no longer held, except with concessions which amount to an abandonment of the theory. THE HEDONISTIC THEORY 109 II The hedonistic philosophy justifies itself by ask- ing these questions : Do we find ourselves desiring or choosing any course of action from which we do not anticipate pleasure of some sort ? Is it not this anticipation which leads us to our choices? Do we not adopt any course because we believe we shall be happier than in some other course? Can an action be determined on if it is known it will bring pain or unhappiness on the whole? Does any one desire for himself or others that which he expects will bring him or them unhappi- ness? Bishop Butler is always quoted by the Hedonists, in his deliberate observation : " Our ideas of happiness and misery are of all our ideas the nearest and most important to us. When we sit down in a cool hour, we can neither justify to ourselves this or any other pursuit, till we are con- vinced it will be for our happiness, or at least not contrary to it." Mr. Spencer states the case more concretely : " Suppose that gashes and bruises caused agreea- Jble sensations, and brought in their train increased power of doing work and receiving enjoyment ; should we regard assault in the same manner as at present? Or suppose that self -mutilation, say by cutting off a hand, was both intrinsically pleas- ant and furthered performance of the processes by which personal welfare and the welfare of de- pendents is achieved ; should we hold, as now, that deliberate injury to one's own body is to be repro- bated? . . . Imagine that ministering to a sick 110 THE HAPPINESS THEORY person always increased the pains of illness. Im- agine that an orphan's relatives, who took charge of it, thereby necessarily brought miseries upon it. Imagine that liquidating another man's pecuniary claims on you redounded to his disadvantage. Im- agine that crediting a man with noble behavior hindered his social welfare and consequent gratifi- cation. What should we say to those acts which now fall into the class we call praiseworthy? Should we not contrariwise class them as blame- worthy? Using, then, as our tests, these most pronounced forms of good and bad conduct, we find it unquestionable that our ideas of their goodness or badness really originate from our consciousness of the certainty or probability that they will pro- duce pleasures or pains somewhere." 1 in The first attack on this theory was very confi- dent, but cannot be regarded as successful. The criticism was made that it is difficult, if not impos- sible, to estimate pains and pleasures beforehand so as to be certain what will give the greatest amount of pleasurable and the least amount of painful feeling. Even on the basis of experience it is not easy to forecast future pleasures. The person may have changed so that he cannot again have enjoyment from sources of former pleasure. His happiness may have been due in part to nov- elty. It is often said that one can visit Europe the first time only once, or that we can be young oiily once. Professor Sidgwick says that " the 1 Data of Ethics, pp. 31, 32. PLEASURES COMPARABLE 111 most careful estimate of a girl's pleasures (suppos- ing a girl gifted with the abnormal habit of reflec- tion that would be necessary) would not much profit a young woman ; and the hedonistic calcula- tions of youth require modification as we advance in years." 1 If the Hedonist says that we rely on the experience of others, that we expect happiness from the pursuits and possessions on which civil- ized society depends, he is reminded that estimates vary widely, that those who pursue those pleasures are loud in declaring disappointment. He is also reminded that reliance cannot be placed on the judgments of those who have tried certain pleas- ures, for their susceptibility may have weakened. Youth suspects that age cannot enjoy and there- fore cannot clearly remember former raptures. It is also true that some are not qualified to enjoy pleasures which are delightful to others. It is a common saying that every one must learn by his own experience. There are always those who " Compound the sins they are inclined to By damning those they have no mind to." The Hedonist admits all this, and replies that the idea of that which will give happiness is the motive, and that the illustrations show it. Youth either discards the judgment of age, and persists in its own idea of pleasure, or accepts that judg- ment, and seeks pleasure accordingly. There may be mistakes, for there are many fools, but there is an estimate of prospective pleasures. It is based largely on the experience of others, for the major- 1 The Methods of Ethics, pp. 147, 148. 112 THE HAPPINESS THEORY ity have for generations been seeking happiness from the same sources of wealth, amusements, cul- ture, and religion. It is idle to argue that there can be no forecast of pleasures, for the forecast is continually made. It can only be argued that there is frequent disappointment. ' IV The next attack on Hedonism was directed against the word, " amount " ; the greatest amount of happiness and the least amount of pain. The objection was made that there is no common meas- ure of pleasures and pains by which a balance can be struck ; that only things of the same kind can be compared, and that pleasures are of totally dif- ferent kinds ; that a distinction of kind or quality introduces other criteria of judgment ; that in passing from quantitative to qualitative sources of pleasure, the theory breaks down. This objection was urged in a tone which was quite triumphant. It is quite impossible, said the objectors, to reduce all pleasures and pains to a common denominator. A college classmate placed an arithmetical value on reasons for and against a proposed course of action. In deciding whether or not he should accept an invitation to an evening party, he would write down the inducements and objections with a number against each : cultivation of social feelings and of manners, 3 ; a good supper, 5 ; meeting a cer- tain young lady, 7; on the other side, the trouble of getting ready, 2 ; studying late, 4 ; overcoming bashfulness, 11; and accepted the difference as de- cisive. But so literal an estimate is not usually attempted. HAPPINESS MEASURABLE 113 No one denies that there are different kinds of pleasure, but it does not follow that they cannot be compared, and one be preferred to another. That is all the Hedonist claims. He says that he does not care about the word, amount, which is only convenient in use as equivalent to more, or greater, or keener, or purer pleasure. Different kinds of pleasure, he claims, must be comparable because they are compared. A man puts beside each other the delight of taking strong drink and of expending his savings on shoes for his children. Stimulation of his own stomach and the warmth of his children's feet are two different kinds of pleasure, but he certainly compares them and chooses between them. A cup of tea is not of the same kind as a sunset or an oratorio. But a tired woman compares them as sources of pleasure, and prefers her cup of tea to gazing at the sky or lis- tening to music. When it is said that a given course of action is better or worse than another course, they certainly are compared. That is pre- cisely what the Hedonist does say. For instance, Miss E. E. Constance Jones remarks: "That men do constantly compare pleasures and pains, and decide that some are greater and others less, there seems absolutely no room to doubt ; and that they are influenced by the prospect of pleasures and pains there seems, again, no doubt. If this is not so, how can we explain, for example, the whole penal code, or the whole industrial organiza- tion of society, or the whole theory of purgatory ? And though it is admitted by Hedonists themselves that the hedonic calculus is difficult and subject 114 THE HAPPINESS THEORY to inaccuracy, for all that we are perforce contin- ually making the calculation and trying to guide ourselves by it. ... We may not indeed be able to say that one pleasure or pain is twice or half as great as another, or that any given pleasure ex- actly outweighs any given pain, any more than we can say that one life or one action is twice as good as another. But we may judge that an hour of one pleasure is as great as a day of another, or that some sharp pain or wearisome toil is cheaply purchased by a desired reward. When the ter- rible choice between three months' flight before his enemies, three days' pestilence, or seven years' famine was put before David, it must have been by a calculation of the greater or less intensity of suffering, multiplied by the less or greater dura- tion, that he reached a decision. He did not com- plain that the calculation was impossible, but only that each alternative was frightful." l The writer might have added that David would not choose between pestilence and famine, but distinctly pre- ferred either of them to falling into the hands of his enemies. v A more serious objection to the hedonistic theory is that pleasure is seldom gained by seeking it di- rectly, or by reflecting on the best means of attain- ing it. If the desire for pleasure is made control- ling, it defeats its own end. The only way to get pleasure is to forget it. This means that pleas- ure is the incident of some other object. Professor Sidgwick's illustration cannot be bettered : " Many 1 International Journal of Ethics, October, 1894. NOT GAINED BY SEEKING 115 middle-aged Englishmen would maintain the view that business is more agreeable than amusement ; but they would hardly find it so, if they transacted the business with a perpetual conscious aim at the attendant pleasure. Similarly, the pleasures of thought and study can only be enjoyed in the highest degree by those who have an ardor of curiosity which carries the mind temporarily away from self and its sensations. In all kinds of Art, again, the exercise of the creative faculty is at- tended by intense and exquisite pleasures ; but in order to get them, one must forget them ; the desire of the artist is always said to be concen- trated and fixed upon the realization of his ideal of beauty." l It is true that arrangements for pleasure parties, excursions, and picnics often yield the anticipated pleasure. But they must be sparingly resorted to. A three months' round of pleasure is more likely to be satisfactory than a twelve months' round ; and in the background of the mind must be the work of life, from which the pleasure is a respite and for which it is a preparation. Benevolent ac- tion is pleasurable, but the pleasurableness is not the immediate object, or, if it is, both the benevo- lence and the enjoyment are of inferior quality. The luxury of giving is not a high motive. Lecky says that the pleasure of virtue is one which can be obtained only on the express condition of its not being the object sought. One may, indeed, culti- vate those appetites and desires the satisfaction of which gives pleasure. He may exercise vigorously 1 The Methods of Ethics, p. 50. 116 TtiE HAPPINESS THEORY in order to have a ravenous appetite. Mr. Ward McAllister gives a pathetic account of a bitter dis- appointment he suffered. He was spending the day at a clergyman's house, and, taking no lunch, walked all the afternoon so as to have a huge ap- petite for dinner, only to sit down disgusted to a cold tea. It is not denied that enjoyment may be sought and attained. But this is easier with the pleasures of the palate than with intellectual and artistic pleasures. Even epicures have increasing difficulty in producing satisfaction, and envy the laborer who enjoys the contents of his dinner-pail. Devotees of pleasure are afflicted with ennui. It is well known that pleasure is not gained by seeking it directly, and this seems to be an insuperable objection to the theory that happiness is the de- termining motive of conduct. In reply to the criticism that to get pleasures we must forget them, the Hedonist replies that in order to get any result, which in all cases is due to causes, we must sometimes fix our attention upon the causes rather than upon the result itself. But the reply is inconsequent, because the result must be in view before the causes are set in operation, and is not lost sight of in the process. The racer does not lose sight of the goal while his energy goes into every step. The reply is inconsequent, also, because the pleasure which ensues from many pursuits, as study, benevolence, or the education of children, is not the object in view, even before one becomes absorbed in the pursuit. The object is truth, or relief, or the welfare of children, not one's own enjoyment in realizing those objects. Thus SATISFACTION 117 pushed, the Hedonist says that too narrow a view of pleasure must not be taken. The motive is not pleasure in the final result by and by, but the zest of the whole pursuit, the idea of the greater value of knowledge, relief, or education than of other goods. He has to be cautious at this point, how- ever, lest he should make a fatal admission con- cerning the intrinsic worth or value of objects and pursuits. VI So what the Hedonist does say, and is saying in his latest bulletins, is this : that one is better sat- isfied to do or be one thing than another, that he would be dissatisfied to engage in a different pur- suit, and that this satisfaction is the motive which actuates him. A soldier is better satisfied to risk his life than to remain at home when his country is in danger. A martyr is better satisfied to die than to surrender his convictions. That this is true no one will deny. But it is merely saying that one course of action is preferred to another ; that to be satisfied is to be happy and to be unsat- isfied is to be unhappy. But every one asks, a child would ask, Why is the soldier or the mar- tyr better satisfied ? For what reason is patriot- ism or fidelity more satisfactory than disloyalty or timidity? If the satisfaction is the only object, can the Hedonist have any reply except to say that one is better satisfied to take a certain course because it gives him more satisfaction ? We are sure there is a reason for the satisfaction in the value of patriotism and faithfulness. Satisfac- tion is not the last word. The last word is, some 118 THE HAPPINESS THEORY satisfactions in preference to others. Some sat- isfactions are worthy of a man and some are not. Duty pertains to the worthy satisfactions. Wrong pertains to the unworthy satisfactions. Man in society is capable of knowledge, affection, honor, purity, loyalty. To promote his own perfection and that of others is right. If he does so he is satisfied, and should expect to be. If he fails to do so, he is dissatisfied, except during the brief moment of lower self-indulgence. Should the Hedonist ask why a man should seek his own perfection, which is vague and indefinable, we reply that a man cannot get back of himself ; that he cannot find his explanation in something other than himself ; that he must conform to his own nature in its ideal ; that he must do so with- out careful calculation of pleasures and pains ; and that the Hedonist has to recognize the nature of man in the qualities which have value, in order to discriminate among the pleasures he may enjoy and the pains he may avoid. If satisfaction is as- sociated with worth or perfection, we gladly recog- nize it as an element of virtue. But if satisfaction is for its own sake, there is no standard to distin- guish him that doeth good from him that doeth it not, and every one must be left to his own taste. If one pleasure is better than another, there must be something aside from the mere pleasurableness which gives it superiority. If it is by the nobility, the refinement, the purity of the sources of satis- faction that right and wrong satisfactions are dis- tinguished, then it follows, as Janet says, that good is not pleasure as such, but pleasure in so far as it SATISFACTION 119 is noble and refined, and that consequently good is this something noble or refined which places certain pleasures above others. It amounts to this, that some objects and pursuits are worthy of giving satisfaction and some are not. They are of different kinds, which can indeed be compared, but which do not have their difference in the degree of pleasure they yield. Unless another and a superior element is introduced, the philoso- phy of satisfaction qua satisfaction cannot explain why some enjoyments are better, more excellent, more worthy than others, nor why some ought to be preferred to others. John Stuart Mill's em- phatic admission, which is inconsistent with his own theory, cannot be too often repeated : " Now it is an unquestionable fact that those who are equally acquainted with and equally capable of appreciating and enjoying both, do give a most marked preference to the meaning of existence which employs their higher faculties. Few human creatures would consent to be changed into any of the lower animals for the promise of the fullest allowance of a beast's pleasure : no intelligent human being would consent to be a fool, no in- structed person would be an ignoramus : no person of feeling and conscience would consent to be self- ish and base, even though they should be per- suaded that the fool, the dunce, or the rascal is better satisfied with his lot than they are with theirs. . . . Better be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied." 1 It all means that there is a right way to be happy and a wrong way to be 1 Utilitarianism, p. 42. 120 THE HAPPINESS THEORY happy, and that happiness depends on right, not right on happiness. The happiness of duty is not the same thing as the duty of happiness. " Be vir- tuous and you will be happy " is not a very noble maxim, but it is nobler and truer than the maxim, " Be happy and you will be virtuous." The plain fact is, that if virtue is exclusively identified with happiness or satisfaction, the sense of duty is not accounted for. It does not appear that it is every one's duty to be happy, to have agreeable feelings. The conviction is too common to be mistaken, that for the sake of duty pleasure should be sacrificed ; as also is that other conviction, that when the mo- tive of duty is pleasure, the virtue is so far forth reduced. It is wrong to seek some kinds of pleas- ure, as it could not be if pleasure alone were the test of right. Hedonism does recognize one essential element of morality, namely, the happiness or satisfaction which accompanies right conduct. It has rendered the service of recovering this element to its proper place. It conforms to the religious view of moral- ity that the final outcome of a right life hereafter is the union of happiness and holiness, as compared with the disparity between right and happiness here, a disparity which creates the problem of theodicy. Hedonism is a protest against the formal and empty conception of right as right, regardless of conse- quences to well-being. Its error consists in mak- ing happiness idtimate and controlling for morality. It fails to show why some pleasures are right and some wrong, except by deserting the standard of pleasure and by bringing in some other criterion. SATISFACTION , 121 Pleasurable feeling is overworked by Hedonism. It is like insisting, because the atmosphere contains nitrogen, that it is nothing but nitrogen. Nitrogen alone, like pleasure alone, is deadly poison. I admit and maintain that satisfaction is an insep- arable element of virtue. As Janet well says : " If pleasure always accompanies action, if each function has its own particular pleasure, it follows plainly that every development of our activity, consequently every development of perfection in man, is accompanied by pleasure, whether we wish it or not. Nature, not troubling herself to inquire whether it will suit abstract philosophies, has de- creed that each of our faculties, the highest as well as the lowest, shall have its own peculiar pleasure by the very fact of being exercised. Hence the perfection of being cannot be acquired without gaining also the feeling of this perfection, the joy of possessing it. Now, this feeling, this joy, is what we should call happiness^ inseparable, as we have seen, from perfection itself. Good, then, is indissolubly composed of perfection and of happiness." 1 The Grecian master says the last word, which cannot be improved : " For it may be added that a person is not good, if he does not take delight in noble actions, as nobody would call a person just if he did not take delight in just ac- tions, or liberal if he did not take delight in lib- eral actions, and so on. But if this is so, it follows that actions in accordance with virtue are pleasant in themselves. . . . Happiness, then, is the best and noblest and pleasantest thing in the world." 2 1 Theory of Morals, p. 72. 2 Nicomachean Ethics, Welldon's translation, p. 20. 122 THE HAPPINESS THEORY VII In the discussion of theoretical ethics the term, Utilitarianism, is giving place to the term, Uni- versalistic Hedonism, perhaps for the reason that happiness is a broader and better term than useful- ness. By adopting this term the Hedonist aban- dons the theory of egoistic happiness for the theory of universal happiness. The sympathetic feelings are recognized as natural and immediate, and the attempt is no longer made to reduce altruism to egoism. The theory still clings, however, to hap- piness as the motive of conduct, and is no more nor less than Utilitarianism under a name which is considered less objectionable. Utilitarianism has two decided merits as com- pared with individualistic Hedonism. It recog- nizes the obligation which rests on every one to seek the welfare of others. It falls in with the prevalent disposition to promote the well-being of mankind. It has probably rendered some service in strength- ening this disposition. At all events, the recogni- tion of the rights of all is a commendable feature of the theory. It is generally admitted that one's fellow-creatures have claims upon him which are measured by needs. That man is an exception who has no public spirit, nor philanthropic motives. One who feels no inner response to the needs of others is careful to simulate sympathetic feelings. Generosity is essential to respectability. Neigh- borhood is not narrowly confined. Kelief runs to calamity on the other hemisphere, announcing by telegraph that it is on the way. Benevolence, in- UTILITARIANISM 123 deed, draws instantly on the deposits commerce has made in the remotest cities. Charity is as great a traveler as enterprise. The other merit of Utilitarianism is that it em- phasizes the impartiality of social duty. Each to count for one, and no one for more than one, is a maxim which signifies that no one should be ignored, since each is a distinct person with his proper claims ; and that no one should encroach on the rights of others by reason of any adventi- tious importance, since each has only the rights of a single individual. Decided opponents of Utilita- rianism admit that it has this excellence. Profes- sor T. H. Green says that " impartiality of refer- ence to human well-being " has been the great lesson it has taught. By insisting that the greatest happiness of the greatest number must be sought, a wide range has been given to social obligation. The Utilitarian, although his interpretation of the greatest good has not been correct, has been per- fectly correct with regard to the subjects who have claims. No person, no class, should be left out of the account. The theory, as Professor Green fur- ther observes, " has made men watchful of custom- ary morality, lest its rules should be conceived in the interest of some particular class of persons, who, probably without being fully aware of it, have been concerned in establishing and maintain- ing them." : It is a real merit of Utilitarianism, then, especially as it has been expounded in trea- tises, that it recognizes the right of all men to the pursuit of some kind of good, that it enforces im- 1 Prolegomena to Ethics, p. 364. 124 THE HAPPINESS THEORY partiality in promoting the general welfare, and v that it perceives in sympathy a primary human impulse. This merit belongs equally, however, to the theory that virtue consists in the realization of worth, from which happiness is inseparable. The universality of duty was recognized as early as the time when the maxim was uttered that every one is to love his neighbor as himself, and when a human answer not a class or national answer was given to the question, " Who is my neigh- bor?" Utilitarianism professes to be more practical than the ethics of worth of character. Its strong- est claim is that it furnishes a rule which is easily applicable under all circumstances. It may be doubted, however, whether it has any advantage in this respect over the ethics of character. Un- til the point is reached at which perplexity arises, moralists of all schools are in agreement as to what should be done. But when perplexity does arise, as it surely does when physical conditions are transcended, tests of mere usefulness are found to be inadequate. All are agreed that healthy dwellings, thorough drainage, pure water, and constant occupation are good for people. But all are not agreed on a thousand other conditions. Shall a young man of brilliant parts become a lawyer, or a journalist, or a clergyman? Shall a gifted woman devote herself to society, or music, or literature, or her family? Shall a man of wealth endow institutions, or support missionary societies? Shall he do his giving while he is alive, or shall his benevolence be testamentary? UTILITARIANISM 125 Shall one advocate or oppose the opening of libra- ries and museums on Sunday? Such questions continually arise, and on correct answers progress principally depends. By new adjustments the old order changes. It is not easy to foresee what course of action will contribute most largely and certainly to the general sum of happiness. The pleasures of one are not those of another man. The pleasures of one are not those of another class. If a certain course is adopted, success in it may add to the happiness of one group of per- sons, but at the expense of the happiness of another group. If social or mercantile customs are maintained, one class may become better contented, but another class more miserable. Moreover, the way in which people ought to be happy may not be the way in which they will be happy. There is no pleasure for a coarse society in refined pursuits, for a licentious age in customs of chastity, for an ignorant people in literature and philosophy. To labor for that which people ought to desire, or to create right desires in them, is a discouraging task, and there is no certainty, even then, that their enjoyment will be increased. To promote the conditions of a better society of the future, so that posterity will desire only the higher pleasures, is too visionary an end to engage the attention of a practical Utilitarian. Thus, when we get beyond good health and physical comfort, it is difficult, having in view the greatest happiness of the greatest number, to decide how to use wealth, how to rear a family, how to culti- vate one's mind, how to act with regard to social 126 THE HAPPINESS THEORY customs and recreations. Choice is not made in- tuitively under any theory, but the merit of easy decision which is claimed by Utilitarianism is only an apparent merit. Decisions are easy on that theory only when they are easy on any theory. Difficulties arise as fast as new problems arise, and therefore in respect to nearly all the conditions of life, from the industrial to the reli- gious. The effect of Utilitarianism is to contract the field of obligation. That which can be proved to be directly useful is but a small part of the service society needs. If efforts are re- stricted to the production of pleasures which can be weighed and measured, an evil here and there may be removed, a physical good may be secured. But the Utilitarian abandons those difficult under- takings which reach out and go down to prevail- ing customs and to conditions rooted in selfish- ness, yet which pertain to the more urgent needs of society. VIII In the first chapter it was remarked that ethical writers have of late been approaching agreement. The agreement has now been per- ceived in several particulars. The Hedonist has become a Utilitarian. He has gone from narrow individualism to broad universalism. The Utili- tarian no longer limits his moral philosophy to happiness, but speaks more frequently of the welfare, the well-being, the good of society. He contrasts pleasures which are right with pleas- ures which are wrong. He is even betrayed at times into comparison of worthy with unworthy AGREEMENT 127 sources of happiness, and into comparison of values and dignities as making pleasure right or wrong. He thus recognizes worth of charac- ter as the proper condition of satisfaction. Hap- piness, he still insists, is an essential element of virtue, but it is determined by value and worth of character. So far as the ideal of perfection is realized there is satisfaction, and it is this kind of satisfaction which is virtuous. The ethics which finds virtue in the formal law of right has disappeared. It could not get on without the good, the actual, concrete, apprehensible good of character. What has sur- vived is its insistence on the imperative of duty, the sacredness of obligation. The ethics which identifies the right with the good, which makes the good consist in worth or perfection of character, has enlarged its borders to include the satisfaction that accompanies the realization of the good. Its hesitancy about in- cluding pleasure in duty arose from the self-indul- gent and physical association of the words plea- sure, pain, and happiness. When it had com- pelled Hedonism first to universalize happiness and then to define happiness as satisfaction in the true values of character, it admitted and finally insisted that satisfaction, happiness, pleas- ure, joy, belong to virtue. After such agreement is reached, there remains only some difference of opinion as to the meaning of words. When the good Greek word, Eudsemonism (well-being) takes the place of Hedonism (pleasure), there is no real occasion for dispute even over words. 7FI7SRSIT7] 128 THE HAPPINESS THEORY An impartial judge would decide, as it seems to me, that the difference is chiefly difference of em- phasis, as no philosophy of ethics can get on with- out including both elements, worth and happiness. He would decide, also, that the feelings of satisfac- tion which virtue excites cannot be regarded as the sole determining motive of morality, but that the practices and sentiments of men distinguish the value of goodness from the pleasure it yields, and regard that value as the immediate object of duty. There is agreement that the good, which determines goodness, is not found in outward cir- cumstances, but is the man himself realizing the ideal of character, in the exercise of all his vital functions, realizing, as evolution would say, the full- ness of life ; the man in the circumstance capable of the pure enjoyment which is incident to his self- realization according to his ideal as a person in a society of persons like himself. I may overesti- mate the agreement and minimize the difference, and yet I think that the ideal, or God's idea of a man, as expressed in Browning's " Rabbi Ben Ezra," would be accepted by all our modern ethical philosophers : " Now, who shall arbitrate ? Ten men love what I hate, Shun what I follow, slight what I receive ; Ten. who in ears and eyes . > Match me : we all surmise, They this thing, and I that : whom shall my soul believe ? " Not on the vulgar mass Called ' work,' must sentence pass, Things done, that took the eye and had the price ; AGREEMENT 129 O'er which, from level stand, The low world laid its hand, Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice : " But all, the world's coarse thumb And finger failed to plumb, So passed in making up the main account ; All instincts immature, All purposes unsure, That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's amount : " Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act, Fancies that broke through language and escaped ; All I could never be, All, men ignored in me, This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped. He fixed thee mid this dance Of plastic circumstance, This Present, thou, forsooth, wouldst fain arrest : Machinery just meant To give thy soul its bent, Try thee and turn thee forth, sufficiently impressed. So, take and use Thy work : Amend what flaws may lurk, What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past the aim ! My times be in Thy hand ! Perfect the cup as planned ! Let age approve of youth, and death complete the same ! " CHAPTER VI SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM IT has already been intimated more than once that morality is self-regard as well as regard for others. I now proceed to the consideration of vir- tue in the two aspects of self-realization and altru- ism. I shall try to indicate the place of self in respect to the good and the right, and to determine in that respect the mutual relation of self and other persons. I The opinion that morality is rooted in the sym- pathetic feelings alone is quite generally enter- tained by both ethical and evolutionary philoso- phers. This opinion has rendered good service in the discussion of moral evolution. For a time it was held that evolution had no place for morality. As struggle for existence and survival of the fit- test, the whole process was characterized as selfish. Regard for the good of others was reduced to self-regard. Cooperation was explained as an ad- vantage in self-defense. Individuals could secure their own happiness better by united than by iso- lated or antagonistic action. It was argued earn- estly that altruism is disguised egoism. Even those acts which seem to show utter self-forgetfulness could be traced, when analyzed, to selfish motives. Self-preservation being regarded as the entire SYMPATHY AND SELF-REGARD 131 philosophy of evolution, morality was explained as an advantage in the struggle for existence. This is only what might have been expected. When a method which had scarcely been noticed is suddenly discovered to be widely extensive, it is believed to be more extensive than it is, and even to be universal. But after a time necessary quali- fications were made. It was seen that other im- pulses are as constant and natural as the impulse of self-preservation. It was first admitted and was then maintained that the sympathetic feelings are constitutional in men and in animals, that the social affinities are instinctive, that they are as immediate and original as the selfish instincts. Instances of kindness on the part of animals to an injured or sick companion were adduced as evidence of sym- pathy. Then it was noted that sympathy is not exceptional, but constant. Maternity, on which the preservation of every species depends, is the expression of disinterested affection. Reproduc- tion, that most distinctive power of life, is anything but self -regarding. The gregariousness of animals, the society of human tribes, are forms of sympa- thetic attraction. These feelings are so essential to existence that the wonder is they were neglected in theories of the origin and development of life, or, if not overlooked, that they were thought to be secondary feelings derived from the primary self- regarding instincts. The admission that sympathy is constitutional and original opened a door both for the moralist and the evolutionist. They ex- claimed with one voice that evolution is not hostile to morality. The evolutionist was rather glad to 132 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM find that so uncompromising a reality as virtue is not a mere device or utility, but is in the very nature of man and even of the inferior animals, and also to perceive that he might now hope to escape the ignorant and prejudiced criticism of ethical writers. The moralist was relieved to find that he need no longer batter his head against the stubborn facts of evolution, now that part of the wall was taken down and a large territory of native instincts surrendered to his exclusive cultivation. Nature, which had seemed to be only talon and tooth, is now a type of the family, of home, and of love. The birds, building their nests, brooding over and feeding their young, symbolize goodness. Have not the hen, gathering her chickens under her wing, and the eagle, fluttering over her eaglets, furnished the most beautiful illustrations of the divine love ? We were sure, said the moralists, that nature could not be in opposition to morality. Sympathy is, and always has been, as basal as selfishness. Sym- pathy subdues selfishness and thus man attains virtue. Mr. Huxley, approaching morality from the scientific side, finds in sympathy, as we have seen, the power with which to transcend the cos- mic process of struggle for existence and survival of the fittest. Professor Henry Drummond, ap- proaching evolution from the ethical side, traces, along the lines of sympathy, the evolution of the mother, of the father, of the husband, on the as- sumption that regard for others is the ladder on which man ascends. 1 Now, while we appreciate the truth and importance of these views and heartily 1 The Ascent of Man. SYMPATHY AND SELF-REGARD' 133 agree that the social feelings are essential in moral- ity and constitutional in human nature, we are not satisfied to leave out of the account that other half of the process and progress of life which con- sists in self-assertion. When evolution, after hav- ing refused to give anything, finally consented to surrender sympathy to ethics, we took the half -loaf gratefully rather than starve. But man owes his progress in large part to the self -regarding and self- asserting feelings. This method has been as power- ful and as constant as the social method. Man is allied as closely to animals on the self-regarding side as on the sympathetic side. The one method seems as normal and necessary as the other, as man makes his way along the upward path. Is it to be presumed that self-assertion has no significance for morality, that so large a section of conduct is non-moral ? Is it to be presumed that self-regard is opposed to virtue, that it must be subdued and eradicated by regard for others, that so important a portion of life is immoral ? And is it therefore to be presumed that morality is possible only by an inner conflict of the sympathetic with the self-re- garding man ? Well, if virtue is simply and solely regard for others and service of others, that is, pure altruism, its root may be found in the social feelings. But in that case, self-regard must be explained as a prolonged and unpleasant preliminary, or as a per- sistent hindrance and stubborn obstacle to morality, and in either case the explanation is unsatisfactory. The truth is that self-realization is as moral as altruism. Nearly all text-books of ethics, in the analysis of man as he now is, put the person him- 134 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM self first, in the enumeration of virtues. But when the account with evolution is made up, the advan- tage which may be found in almost every system is abandoned by ignoring or condemning self-preser- vation and self-realization. I do not profess ability to bring all the acts of man within the lines of moral progress. Rivalry and strife in the earlier and also in the later history of man are not easily explained from the moral point of view. Every one must confess partial ignorance. It must be concluded, also, that there has been perversion and reversion, as there manifestly is in the present stage of progress. Nevertheless, I am very sure that the self-regarding feelings, although they have led to strife arid struggle, are as elementary and funda- mental for ethics as they are for evolution. I believe that in the large correspondence of self- preservation, which is the important word of evo- lution, with self-realization, which is one of the two important words of ethics, we may perceive the harmony of morality and evolution. II Every one is an object to himself, an object of effort and an object of thought. It is not merely by a roundabout, refined, accommodated reflection that one objectifies himself, but it is a primitive, natural, and necessary perception. The Self, the Ego, the I, as distinguished from what is other than self, is the beginning of knowledge. And it is objective knowledge before it is subjec- tive knowledge. Every child knows himself first as an object in the third person. He speaks of SELF 135 himself by the name others give him ; " baby hurt," "baby cry." Children use "me," the objective, before they use " I," as the subject of their sen- tences. A savage thinks in the same way. He speaks of himself in the third person, usually by the name which has been given him. He thinks of himself as others think of him. This is the more concrete, pictorial, descriptive, and therefore the more primitive mode of thought. At length, as language was able to express general concepts, a single word was employed, instead of the sev- eral and particular names of individuals, to desig- nate the person as his own object, the word " self." The earlier and the common use of the word is objective. Self and not another is in view. It is the exact and complete identification of an indi- vidual as his own object. It is still compounded only in the objective form, himself, themselves, not heself , they selves ; or in the oblique cases to indicate that which pertains to the person as an object. Even when it is put alongside the subject in the nominative, as I myself, he himself, they themselves, the bbjective form is retained, and the purpose is to mark sharply the individuals in their separateness and independence and responsibility, as distinguished from all others. When the word is compounded with words of action or result, it signifies the person as an object acted upon, as self -accusation, self -approval, self-command, self- love, self-made. "We could not get on without the word " self," which means the person objectified to his own mind as he is objectified to the minds of others. One may be very much mistaken about 136 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM himself, even about his personal appearance, so that, even if he recognizes his own photograph, he finds it a disappointment, or, more rarely, an agreeable surprise. Few can take their own meas- ure even so as to see themselves as others see them. The maxim, " Know thyself," is a hard one. Nevertheless, every one holds before his mind some kind of a self, true or false, which he as con- tinually makes an object of effort. He flatters it or rebukes it, pampers it or castigates it, inflates it to-day and punctures it to-morrow. He is re- minded by others of his duty to this object. He has often been told, when a child, that he ought to be ashamed of himself, as if he were two chil- dren. In a fit of disgust he feels like kicking himself, as if he had two bodies. He talks about improving himself and enjoying himself. If the reader should take the pains to glance back over this paragraph he would see that the attempt to describe a person as his own object is possible only by constant use of the word to be explained. Self is the only word by which self can be denoted. No other word can take its own unique place. It speaks for itself. The distinction of subject and object has been ingeniously marked in a recent article in an ethical journal, and the difference between self-love and selfishness designated by the new words, " I-ishness " and " me-ishness," which make the contrast clear, but can hardly claim to have enriched the English language. 1 The conception of self as an object is more than recognition of the actual self. It is also recogni- 1 International Journal of Ethics, April, 1895, pp. 273-295. SELF 137 tion of the ideal self. There are really three selves ; the subjective self, the objective self, and the ideal self. Others distinguish these three selves. Those who are interested in a boy form an ideal of him even when he is little. They wonder what he will become. They notice his tastes, capacities, intelligence, powers of imagina- tion, and predict his career. They skip over the twenty intervening years, and picture the man that will be or may be. Very early, every one has some ideal of himself. It may be mistaken, in- adequate, fanciful, impossible. But it is perceived and pursued. A child lives in a world of imagina- tion, sees himself in some other character, plays that he is a soldier, a sailor, a knight, a pirate, a king. He lives it all out, as if he really were that other person. As he grows older he brings his ideal into shape somewhere within the limits of possibility. He is very decided as to what he will be, a carpenter, an engineer, an architect, a merchant, a doctor, an orator ; first an ideal of what he can do with his hands, later an ideal of what he can do with his brains. He sees him- self beforehand as he will be in his occupation. Ambition sees the ideal self. One who has politi- cal ambition imagines himself governor, congress- man, president. He imagines what he will do, what power he will have, how he will be honored in the position he covets. If he is a vain person and values the external trappings of office, he may some day actually be caught posing before a mirror, and, if he should confess the truth, he would admit that, for the moment, he was governor 138 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM of the State, delivering his inaugural address. But every one stands before a magic glass, which, as he peers into it, reflects a person somewhat like the one who stands before it, yet different, with attainments, qualities, dignities, of which he deems himself capable, or which he at least desires. As a convex mirror gives a distorted image, yet which is reflected from the beholder, so the magic mir- ror of imagination gives an ennobled, enlarged, more refined image of the ideal which the actual may become. in It follows therefore that self-love is intelligible and real. The conception of self-love may perhaps be derived from the conception of love to others, although it is a question whether desires for our own good are determined by that which we regard as good for others, or desires for the good of others are determined by what we regard as good for our- selves. But, as we have or think we have a clear idea of love for others, we may take that idea and observe that it applies equally and almost exactly to self-love. Love for others is the desire and the duty to do that which is for their good. It is not merely the feeling of delight in being with them and contemplating them. While it is a liking, a sympathetic feeling, a joy in companionship, it is at the same time a desire to serve them, to promote their happiness, to do something for them. Love seeks the true good of the person loved. It will not minister in an unworthy way to afford a tem- porary pleasure. It will not approve nor tolerate that which is wrong. It will not encourage the SELF-LOVE 139 coarse, base passions of the one loved. It condemns impurity, falseness, selfishness. A parent, we say, does not really love his child if he tolerates the self- indulgence and does not correct or punish the faults of the child. Faithful are the wounds of a friend. Love discriminates. It admires only that which is worthy of admiration. It cannot consent to, much less approve, anything unworthy of the loved one. The more love the more condemnation of that which is unlovely. What has been said of the divine love is true of human love : " The very wrath from pity grew, From love of men the hate of wrong." Love has a high ideal of the person loved, and is devoted to the attainment of that ideal. Love seeks righteousness, and is satisfied with nothing less and nothing other than that. Should not one be seeking the same things for himself that he seeks for others ? Should he not have the same ideal for himself ? Is not the good- ness he would promote in a friend the very good- ness he should be striving to promote in his own character ? If I love another, I seek his perfection. But I should seek my own perfection. Therefore I should love myself. In fact, the very best way to promote the goodness of another is to cultivate my own goodness. To be of the right character gives the power and the only power of loving and serving others. Example is the best service love can render. If one is seeking the wrong things for him- self, he cannot be seeking the right things for his friend, except as he disapproves his own wrongness, 140 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM and is a warning to his friend. Now we understand self-love. The representation of love as including self is by no means a far-fetched and circuitous way of thinking. In the complete summary of moral law, a summary which is almost universally accepted, two great principles are laid down, one of which gives as much importance to self-love as to love for others, and even makes self-love the rule and type of love to others. " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," is the second of two great command- ments on which hang all the moral precepts of lawgivers and prophets. The comparison has re- spect, not to quantity but to quality. It does not mean that one is to love his neighbor as much as he loves himself, that he is to give just as much time, thought, care, service, to his neighbor as he gives to himself, in as equal division as possible. It means that one is to love his neighbor in the same way that he loves himself, in the same man- ner, after the same fashion, with the same objects in view, like as he loves himself. It is not the " as " of degree but the " as " of kind. As thou lovest thyself so shalt thou love thy neighbor. The soul's goods one seeks for himself are the soul's goods he should seek for his neighbor. Therefore one must love himself aright in order to love his neighbor aright. According to this comprehensive precept, self-love is not derived from love to others, but love to others gets its pattern and therefore its measure from love to self. This is as distinct a declaration of self-love as could possibly be made, and certainly on the best authority. The somewhat similar pre- cept which is found both in Christian and in Con- SELF-REALIZATION 141 fucian ethics, to do unto others as you would that they should do unto you, indicates the right every one has that others should seek his good, as well as his duty to seek their good, and so objectifies self as needing love and service. If one is entitled to the efforts of others for his good, he certainly is required to serve himself as he would have others serve him and as he ought to serve them. IV But how about the virtue of self-sacrifice and self- denial ? Does not self-love conflict with them ? I think not, but, on the contrary, regard them as the best expressions of self-love. Self-sacrifice is not self-effacement, self -obliteration, self -debasement. One may, for the sake of another, sacrifice out- ward things, goods, time, pleasures, comforts, repu- tation. He may sacrifice possessions and enjoy- ments which in themselves are legitimate, and so may practice self-denial. But he may not sacrifice character, the goods of the soul, truth, honor, purity, nobleness. That such sacrifice may not be made is finely illustrated in the reply of Isabel to Angelo the judge, in " Measure for Measure." She refuses to sacrifice her purity to save her brother's life : Isabel. That is, were I under the terms of death, Th' impression of keen whips I 'd wear as rubies, And strip myself to death, as to a bed That longing I 've been sick for, ere I 'd yield My body up to shame. Angelo. Then must Your brother die. . Isabel. And 't were a cheaper way. Better it were, a brother died at once, 142 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM Than that a sister, by redeeming him, Should die for ever. l The worth of the true self cannot be denied nor renounced. The loss of it would be the loss of power to promote another's true good. Self-sacri- fice is not the denying but the giving of self. It is the devotement of self itself, rather than of some outward thing into which the giver does not put himself. A sacrifice is an offering of that which has value. It is the consecration of friendship, counsel, inspiration, sympathy, the gifts of charac- ter. The value of the service is measured by the moral value of the person who gives himself with- out stint. Every teacher must first gain the know- ledge he would impart. He must realize himself intellectually in order to teach others. Any self- denial involved is simply giving his time to the two-fold work of self-realization and self-imparta- tion. The new charity has laid hold of the prin- ciple of self -giving. It shares the life of those who need help. It does not extend a gift at arm's- length, but comes in person to give wisdom, sym- pathy, guidance, respect, companionship, to give self. It is self-impartation. The self-impartation has value only if there is self-realization, only if there is self-love, seeking the highest good of self. One who is not a lover of himself according to the highest value, is incapable and worthless for any service to others. At the most he can only make some heedless gift of money to relieve the bodily wants of the poor, and even then, if he does not put some wise thought into it, some of the judi- 1 Measure for Measure, act ii., so. 4. SELF-REALIZATION 143 ciousness which is a personal thing, he will do more harm than good. Self-denial is either denial of the lower self, of appetite, greed, or passion, in order that there may be realization of the true and higher self, or it is relinquishment of certain pur- suits which might yield pleasure or profit, in order to use one's self at a larger advantage for the ser- vice of others, in which he will at the same time gain the best and finest self-culture. After it had been said of the Hebrew priests that when they came to the altar it was necessary they should have somewhat to offer, it is observed of him who was greater than all the priests that he offered himself, nothing less than himself, in all the wealth of his sympathy. That was the unspeakable, the incomparable gift. That the culture of the person himself is the very essence of morality is evident from all that has been presented concerning the moral ideal, which is one's own personal ideal of worth, and on which all moral laws, all rights, duty, obligation, are based. It was seen that the person is an end in himself, never a means to some other end ; that one is to serve others, because they, like himself, are values of absolute worth; that morality is in- separable from character ; and that the object or, it might better be said, the nature of morality is the perfection of character. It is impossible, then, to limit virtue to regard for others, to find in good- ness only an expression of the sympathetic feelings, to reduce morality to altruism. It may, indeed be necessary to emphasize service to others as against the selfishness which grasps from others to gratify 144 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM the lower desires. But the good of others cannot be interfered with by the realization of one's own worth. It is evident, then, it is self-evident, that there is as close and vital a relation between morality and the self-regarding feelings as there is between morality and the sympathetic feelings. It no more follows, because some of the forms of self- assertion are unethical, that self-assertion itself has no relation to virtue, than it follows, because some of the forms of sympathy are immoral, that sympathy has no relation to virtue. The signifi- cance of the truth which has been gained in re- spect to the self -regarding feelings will be employed in the next chapter on the relation of ethics and evolution. Before considering altruism, attention is called to a word which has been frequently used in the preceding pages, the word " self-realization." It is a good term, for several reasons. It indicates the morality of the person himself. It implies that character is the end in view. It implies that the character to be attained is the normal man, the true self, according to the type or ideal of his own constitution. It suggests that the character is to be attained progressively by a process of realiza- tion. It signifies self-perfection. The complete, symmetrical, ideal character is the self to be real- ized. The word is therefore preferable to " ego- ism," which is too suggestive of egotism, and which is not suggestive at all of a process of development. It is obviously a better word than "selfishness," which stands for pursuit of the lower gratifications, and also for indifference to the welfare of others. SELF-REALIZATION 145 The characterization of the self-regarding instincts as selfish, in contrast with the sympathetic instincts, is unfortunate, for it is prejudicial to the self- regarding feelings before they are supposed to have any moral quality whatever. Self-realization, and not egoism or selfishness, is the side of moral- ity which pertains to self. The cultivation of self according to the ideal proceeds on one side without reference to others. When one gets away from men into the solitude of nature, and has the freshening and purifying influences which come from the beauty of the world, he has a repose and joy and strength which cannot be gained from human companionships. Wordsworth is the poet of nature's ministration, and Stevenson, I think, is her best interpreter in prose. His stories abound with delicious sugges- tions of the pure delights of nature, such as the farmer's good-night to Prince Otto : " See, sir," and here he opened a door and ushered Otto into a little whitewashed sleeping-room, " here you are in port. It is small, but it is airy, and the sheets are clean and kept in lavender. The window, too, looks out above the river, and there 's no music like a little river's. It plays the same tune (and that 's the favorite) over and over again, and yet does not weary of it like men fiddlers. It takes the mind out-of-doors ; and though we should be grateful for good houses, there is, after all, no house like God's out-of-doors. And lastly, sir, it quiets a man down like saying his prayers." A friend tells me of a German scholar who went away to live for a time in a small, remote village, 146 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM far from the rush of cities and the bustling activi- ties of politics and the new philanthrophy, just for a time to be and not to do. We are told that there should be returns of various kinds to that which is old, in philosophy, in art, in music, in religion. A return which needs to be made from the very activities of benevolence, and from the plans and works which are to make the world better, is just the return into self, into an interior life of quiet, of meditation, of communion with nature and with God, which gives the strength of repose and the re- pose of strength. But we digress too far, perhaps, from the path we are following. As we turn to altruism, from self to others, the path seems easier. The occasions of duty are furnished in relation to children, parents, brothers, sisters, friends, citizens, the sick, the poor, the ignorant, the oppressed. The demands are per- petual and pressing. Life is absorbed in the cares and services which are thus imposed. The good man has no time to think of himself in his devotion to others. Duty seems to be no more and no less than that which one owes to those about him. If it should be intimated that duty to others is a less simple conception than duty to self, we should be surprised and incredulous. Yet a plausible argu- ment could be made to show that my own good is a more immediate object than the good of another, and that it is not so easy as it seems to demon- strate the right of some other person to my services. We have already noticed that the Utilitarians were ALTRUISM 147 challenged to show how the happiness of another is as obligatory on every one as his own happiness, and that they were somewhat at a loss for an an- swer. The fact that there could be such a discus- sion proves at least that the obligation of altruism is no more obvious and immediate than the obliga- tion of self-realization. But there is no occasion to debate the point, for it is now agreed that the sympathetic feelings are as original and constitu- tional as the self-regarding feelings. The simple fact is that man is a person in society, and that he cannot be thought of apart from the reciprocal relations of the social organism. The feelings of affection are spontaneous, and mutual services are indispensable. I am dependent on others and others are dependent on me. Humanity is incon- ceivable under any other conditions. No person can be started in life without the conscious coopera- tion of others, and there can be no newcomers after us unless we invite their appearance. Altruism is laid down in the nature of man and even of ani- mals. The foot cannot say to the hand, the child cannot say to the parent, the friend cannot say to the friend : " I have no need of thee and thou hast no need of me." Nor do these necessities of re- ciprocity proceed, even on the physical ranges, in unconsciousness. Reproduction, nurture, educa- tion, depend upon preference and intelligent choice. Much more do the mutual services of society, economic, political, benevolent, require deliberate purpose. It is a strange contention of Mr. Kidd's that the efforts of individuals are selfish, com- petitive, greedy, and that altruism is a race func- 148 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM tion of which individuals are not conscious, and which they cannot bring under rational justifica- tion. It could more reasonably be argued that actions for the good of others in the family and the State engage conscious and concentrated attention, and that actions for self are unreasoned and almost unconscious. But, whether self -regard ing or altru- istic actions are more distinct to consciousness, it is entirely certain that duties to others constitute a large portion of moral conduct. This is so ob- vious that illustration is unnecessary. VI There are, however, two aspects of altruistic action which are worthy of notice, because they show that altruism is only the promotion of self- realization in others. They are the receptive and the reflex aspects of duty to others. The receptive aspect is often overlooked. But it is as obligatory to receive as to impart good. Two persons are concerned in every altruistic act, the giver and the receiver. To the completeness and the value of such an act, receptiveness is es- sential. There is as much virtue in right receiving as in right conferring. Giving is for the good of another person, and the good is not achieved unless there is a fitting acceptance of it. Instruc- tion, for example, is not instruction unless there is teachableness. There must be the capacity and the disposition to learn. There is no virtue in rebuke if it is not deserved, and no efficacy if it is not heeded. If I would render service to another, I must ascertain his need and suit the service to ffr ALTRUISM RECEPTIVE AND REFLEX 149 the need. Otherwise there is good only in inten- tion, and not in effect. This comes around to the duty of self-realization on the part of the one to whom service is proffered. My altruistic action is for the purpose, and the sole purpose, of helping him realize his own good. So, conversely, if altruistic action is right, I must allow and even require it from others. If I need what others can give, it is as much my duty to receive as their duty to give. It is wrong not to imitate a good example. It is false pride to refuse needed help. Ingratitude is base. Indeed, right reception is the more difficult, and therefore in many cases the better part of virtue. There is consciousness of power in giving, but consciousness of weakness in receiving, and the exercise of power is more agreeable than the admission of weakness. He who confers benefits must be careful not to assume an air of superiority. Benefactors have to be wary. It may be more blessed to give than to receive, but it is less diffi- cult. It is indeed a mark of greatness to receive gracefully and gratefully. Appreciation, respon- siveness, admiration, veneration, indicate breadth of character. Courtesy is responsive. Its stock of phrases is best supplied with expressions of thankfulness and appreciation. It lets others con- fer favors. It depreciates its own acts and appre- ciates the acts of others. Mr. Spencer reduces this to an absurdity by suggesting that true altru- ism consists in receiving. His argument is, that altruistic action is pleasurable, that to give others that pleasure we should afford them the opportu- nity of doing favors to us, and should forego the 150 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM pleasure ourselves. Consequently two altruistic persons will engage in friendly competition, not to serve but to be served. One will try to anticipate the other in coming under obligation. One will create artificial wants that the other may have the pleasure of satisfying them. They will be like the two friends meeting in Piccadilly, when the first says, " I am so glad to see you," and the other re- plies, " I am so glad that you are glad," to which the first responds, " I am so glad that you are glad that I am glad," and so, logically, they never get away from each other. The obvious truth of altruism is that its object is the realization of personal worth, in which one may help another, that there is therefore virtue in receiving as well as in giv- ing, and that no one can realize his own worth apart from others. Altruism is extended self- realization, inasmuch as it seeks the same objects for another as for self. The virtue of altruism consists, not in its contrast with self-realization, but in its contrast with selfishness. The selfish man is not willing to share with another those possessions which are reduced by giving, and which are usually gained by depriving others of them. If one is altruistic he seeks for himself goods which are increased by imparting or com- mending them to others. When material posses- sions are thought to constitute the chief good, there is envy and rivalry, because they cannot be shared without being diminished. Miss Wedg- wood remarks on " the important fact that, so far as human beings dwell within the realm of sense, they are to a certain extent necessarily rivals, and ALTRUISM RECEPTIVE AND REFLEX 151 quotes from the " Purgatorio " the saying of Yirgil to Dante concerning envy, which arises " Because men set their wishes upon that Wherein companionship is one with loss." * But all that is intellectual, a3sthetic, and moral is a common possession, which is not impoverished by giving nor enriched by withholding. When a higher good is enjoyed, one is impelled to share it with others. When one perceives the beauty of sunset clouds, of a planet's soft light in the even- ing sky, of a distant mountain peak, his first im- pulse is to call another to see it. When the scholar discovers a fact or a truth, he is possessed with a desire to communicate it. When one has a revelation of a type of character, of a freedom of faith, of a discipline from trouble, he must pro- claim it as good news. Every revelation is a gos- pel. It is truth to be proclaimed with enthusiasm. There is the gospel of reform, the gospel of art, the gospel of education, of socialism, of science, and even of recreation. Every one who is illumi- nated, who has vision of the true good, is a propa- gandist. Altruism is rooted in the knowledge, possession, and enjoyment of the higher values of character. It is rooted in self-realization. Each individual is but one among a multitude. But his worth is absolute, and stands in equilibrium of value with that of all others, as a slender column of water stands at the same level with the reser- voir and balances it. The reflex influence of altruism is commonly observed. Devotion to the good of others pro- l The Moral Ideal, p. 292. 152 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM motes the purity, refinement, and strength of one's own character. The reason is obvious. He is seeking the very objects for another which are his own objects. They become so distinct and valu- able when they are desired for others that they are more his own objects than ever. As the surest way to know a subject is to teach it, so the sur- est way to realize goodness is to teach it, persuade to it, and impart it. The tendency of promoting the good of others is to eliminate from one's own character whatever is foreign to the ideal. If one allows in himself anything contrary to the good, he defeats the object of his service for another, and is, indeed, so far forth incapable of service. Self-love and love of others react upon each other. To have one is necessarily to have the other. I have dwelt upon the receptive and reflex as- pects of altruism in order to show that there can be no virtue in which self is left out of the ac- count. The sympathetic feelings cannot be sepa- rated from the self-regarding feelings and made the sole basis of virtue. Personality is always in soci- ety, and is therefore altruistic. Society produces better personalities, and therefore there is cooper- ation for the good of persons. Realization of character is the object each has for himself and for others. The religion which is most altruistic, which makes ministration its law, and which teaches that greatness is for service, is the religion which makes equally important the salvation, that is, the perfection, of the individual, who, by reason of his self-realization, enters into that kingdom which is the true society. THE MUTUAL RELATION 153 VII If the positions taken are correct, there is little to be added on the debate concerning egoism and altruism. Mr. Spencer attempted to show that all action for others has a relation to self, that ser- vice for others is often to one's own advantage, and that such service gives pleasurable feeling to the one who renders it as well as to the one who re- ceives it. He showed that the man who takes care of his health, and has an unfailing flow of spirits, can do more for others than the man who neglects his health and is peevish or despondent, and that therefore there is no such thing as pure and unde- filed altruism. He assumed that there must be utter unconsciousness of self and entire disregard of one's own interests in action which is altruistic, and that, as this can never be the case, there is no such a thing as unalloyed altruism. But the as- sumption is wrong. Some actions which are for the benefit of others may be prompted by purely selfish motives. One who does what he can to keep his neighbor in health, but only that he him- self may not contract an infectious disease, is alto- gether selfish. But other acts have direct regard to the good of a neighbor. If one keeps himself in health so that he may be able to support his family, if he amuses himself so that he may be fresh and strong for the work on which others are dependent, his care of himself is not selfish but altruistic. There is no opposition between self- regard and regard for others. Each makes the other possible. The altruism which reduces self 154 SELF-REALIZATION AND ALTRUISM to zero is an act without an actor. It is some- thing out of nothing. It is a verb without a noun. It is a nonentity exercising power. Very nearly all that Mr. Spencer says is true, because self-cul- ture is the power of service. The direction of that power upon another for his good is altruism. Unless one does make the most of himself, he is incompetent for good to others. The pleasure I have in helping another does not reduce the virtue of the act, but enhances it. The real good of another ought to give me pleasure. If it produces envy or any unhappiness in me, there would be no virtue in my promotion of it, even if, with such feelings, I could promote it at all. Persons are akin. They have the same ideals, and are seeking them together. They can help each other, not out of the emptiness, but only out of the fullness of each. Mr. Spencer started out and ran away with the ascetic, morbid, pallid type of virtue, and had little difficulty in showing that it has no place nor power in the actual world. But a true, healthy, pure, noble egoism is the necessary condition of altruism. The more of such self-realization there is, the more genuine and valuable is service for others in that regard for their good which is the true altruism. We are members one of another. CHAPTER VII ETHICS AND EVOLUTION IN the first chapter, the possible relations of evolution and ethics were indicated in a 'general way, and in anticipation of the discussion which was to follow. It was pointed out that the relation might be regarded as antagonistic, as independent, as identical, or as harmonious. It was stated that the essential methods of evolution would be found to be in harmony with the fundamental principles of ethics. In the intervening chapters the ele- ments of morality have been considered, in order to gain materials for the comparison by which har- mony is established. It has been found that an ideal of the worth or perfection of persons in so- ciety constitutes morality ; that this ideal is oblig- atory in law or right ; that it is realized in love, which is self-love and love of others ; that it is rooted therefore in the self-regarding and the sym- pathetic feelings, which issue in self-realization and altruism. Emphasis has been laid on self- regard, self-assertion, self-love and self-realization as against theories of a purely sympathetic and altruistic morality. It has been intimated that the self-realization which is, to say the least, a whole hemisphere of morality, is closely allied to the self- preservation which is fundamental in evolution, and that harmony may therefore be looked for at 156 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION the very point where antagonism had been as- sumed. I now proceed to indicate more definitely the parallel lines of ethics and evolution in respect to the end attained, the method of attaining it, and the values of the self-regarding and sympa- thetic feelings. The principal difficulty in estab- lishing the harmony arises from the struggle which accompanies the development of all life, animal and human. This difficulty may not be entirely removed. But if it is seen to be the incident rather than the law of progress, and the incident of an essential element of morality, the difficulty will be greatly reduced. Under any theory, a serious problem is presented in view of strife, waste, and pain. But if all that pertains to self-regard is excluded from morality, the problem is more per- plexing than it is if self-regard is included. And if self-preservation becoming self-realization tends to eliminate strife and suffering, and thus to correct its own defects, the problem will have a sufficiently satisfactory solution. I shall first consider the end attained, together with the method of attain- ing it, and afterwards consider the impulses of self- regard and sympathy. I In the comprehensive view there is a principle which is common to ethics and evolution. When the entire movement is observed it is defined for both in the same way, namely, as an ideal progres- sively realized. This is the very nature of morality. It is that which ought to be. The individual seeking his THE COMMON PRINCIPLE 157 own worth or perfection, or even happiness, sees an ideal which he ought to realize, and which, if he is moral, he is trying to realize. The advance of society is towards an ideal. Dissatisfaction with existing conditions, proposed reforms, improvement in every sphere, the industrial, the political, the educational, the aesthetic, are the recognition and realization of an ideal. A philosophy of history is possible because progress towards an ideal can be traced. Inventions, explorations, laws, govern- ments, revolutions, art, science, philosophy, are interpreted as stages of progress. The functions of the several nations in the advance of civiliza- tion are perceived. It is seen that there has been, not stagnation and repetition, but regular, related, and intelligible progress. The movement has not always been in a straight line. It has been like the rotary movement of a storm, the centre trav- eling due east but the wind blowing from all directions on the edges, or like the ascending spiral which seems to return upon itself in the compari- son of days or years, but moves upwards as seen in the progress of centuries and generations. The historian is not a mere annalist. He is an interpre- ter of events and tendencies. He sees the ideals which arose before the minds of a people and the process by which the ideals were realized. The stages of progress are marked along the centuries in historical succession. They are seen simulta- neously in the contrasted conditions of civilized and savage peoples at the present time, as a moun- tain clothed with verdure at the base and covered with snow at the summit exhibits vertically in its 158 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION few thousand feet of altitude the climates and products of all the zones. The belief in progress is deeply rooted and well- nigh universal. It is said that charity-workers in the slums of London find that the poorest live in hope of better conditions. The oppressed expect deliverance. The slave expects freedom. Al- though nearly all people locate the golden age in the past, and think their own time is degenerate, yet they believe that there will be leaders and heroes who will bring back the golden age. Be- yond the wilderness lies the promised land. In the darkest hour the dawn is watched for. Hope repeats the proverb that it is darkest just before day. The present age is in the attitude of looking forward. This generation stands among cross- lights, with hand shading the eye, peering curiously or anxiously into the future. We seem to live in the thought of the future more than in the power of the present. We think and talk of that which is coming, the coming method of business, the com- ing education, the coming politics, the coming art, the coming charity. The educator, the statesman, the philanthropist, the artist, sees the day which is dawning and lives in the power of a world to come. His intellectual, economic, political, artistic world is not this present evil world, but a world he sees coming and which by his efforts he will hasten. It is evident, then, that personal and so- cial morality advance towards an ideal which is more or less distinctly seen, and which is realized progressively. PROGRESSIVE REALIZATION 159 n Turning now to evolution, we see that the whole movement may be comprehensively regarded as the progressive realization of ends or ideals. This is the most satisfactory explanation of the develop- ment of physical nature. Whether the outcome, the detailed processes, or the original conditions of the universe are regarded, evolution signifies the realization of ends. The whole outcome, as it is known at the pres- ent time, is comprehended as a development of higher from lower forms. The universe of suns and planets was evolved from nebulous or ethe- real conditions, and has passed through gaseous, igneous, liquid and solid stages, until the earth and perhaps other globes became habitable, sus- taining animals and men. A writer on solar and planetary evolution says : " Everything of which we have any knowledge is the result of growth or progress, in one way or another according to law. I suppose that no reasonable person who is ac- quainted with the facts would pretend that the earth or the universe is any less the result of a regular process of development than a tree." So of the evolution of animal life. Differences arise which are called variations. Some of them are preserved and perpetuated because they give ad- vantage to the animals which possess them. Thus varieties and species appear, the new being supe- rior to the old. The general law is the law of the progress of the whole, that is, as stated by Le Conte, " the general fact that, although there is 160 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION retrogression and reversion in parts, the whole system steadily advances to higher functions and wider variety, like a tree, the upward and spread- ing growth of which as a whole is not measured by the irregular form, or deficient development, or retrogressive metamorphosis or death of any sub- ordinate branch or leaf." There may be differ- ence of opinion as to how this took place, but the result, more highly organized forms descended from less highly organized forms, cannot be suc- cessfully questioned. So, again, of the evolution of man in society. It means progress. If all men remained in or reverted to a savage state, there would be no movement that could be called evolu- tion. But the progress of the race, which is not yet ended, is even more confidently affirmed by evolutionary than by ethical philosophers. The outcome, then, is seen to be a result which all forces and forms have tended to realize. The forces and forms can be understood only in view of the results. Again, when any particular law of evolution is perceived, the law of definite variation, the law of sexual selection, the law of heredity, it is almost impossible to avoid the use of terms which signify the adjustment of means to ends. Mr. Spencer's definition of life is precisely that : " the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external rela- tions." It has been remarked that adjustment is as full of teleology as an egg is full of meat. Haeckel speaks of the internal formative tendency by which heredity strives to keep the organic form in its species. A tendency is that which tends to PROGRESSIVE REALIZATION 161 a certain result. Striving to keep a form within certain lines is the adjustment of means to ends. Moreover, it is not merely in occasional phrases expressing purpose, and which are employed for convenience to indicate cause and effect, but in the thought of life as organism rather than mech- anism, and developing by definite variation and selection, that we find the assumption of pur- pose. Vital forms tend to higher organization, to better adjustment with environment, to greater intelligence, to the psychical and moral powers of man. Every law and method makes for progress. Progress can mean only the realization of ends. Otherwise the changes of nature would be only a kaleidoscope. l If the outcome and the process, then also the original conditions of the universe are intelligible only in view of the ends to be realized. The end or ideal was implicit in the beginning. The origi- nal condition is assumed by some evolutionists to have been a homogeneous mass. Mr. Spencer calls it an indefinite, incoherent homogeneity. Another writer calls it a lifeless, chaotic mass. Another calls it primal chaos. Still another describes it as the primitive nebulosity. The supposition is that it was all alike, one uniform stuff, which had existed without change, no one knows how long. How, then, did change begin ? How came the indefinite mass to take on different and definite forms? It is represented that at a given time a movement began, that there was a stir, a breaking 1 See lecture of J. W. Chadwick in Evolution, a series of papers read before the Brooklyn Ethical Association, p. 329. 162 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION up, different kinds of chemical elements, separa- tion of the mass into suns and planets. The most herculean task Mr. Spencer ever attempted is his effort to introduce change into the eternal, change- less homogeneousness. He strives by the momen- tum of huge masses of words to set the primeval mass in motion. " All finite powers of the homo- geneous," he says, " all forms of it which we can know or conceive, must inevitably lapse into heter- ogeneity. In three several ways does the persist- ence of force necessitate this. Setting external agencies aside, each unit of a homogeneous whole must be differently affected from any of the rest by the action of the rest on it. The resultant force exercised by the aggregate on each unit, being in no two cases alike both in amount and direction, and usually not in either, any incident force, even if uniform in amount and direction, cannot produce like effects on the units. And the various posi- tions of the parts in relation to any incident force preventing them from receiving them in uniform amounts and directions, a further difference in the effects wrought on them is inevitably produced." l If this chaos of words has any meaning, it certainly means that the homogeneousness was never homo- geneous, for it had separate units, and no two of the units were in precisely the same condition. To introduce differences he assumes that differences already existed. There must either have been the action of a force from outside, or there must have been some potency resident in the homogeneous mass, some activities which had been there all the 1 First Principles, p. 429. PROGRESSIVE REALIZATION 163 time. If there was a force from without, it must have been a purposive force, for it marked out a path in which the chaotic mass must move. If there were potencies within, the primitive nebu- losity had internal forces and qualities which de- termined the course it should take, and so it was not an incoherent homogeneity, after all. One who could have been stationed at a point of time when there was nothing but diffused nebula, and could have understood the potencies and forces resident in the primordial atoms, would have been able to comprehend the next or any succeeding change only by perceiving the ends which those forces would progressively realize. If science said that there is only ceaseless flux and reflux, the case would be altogether different. Science does say law and order, and not only that, but it says also progress, more highly organized existences, human reason and conscience. If there were only cease- less flux and reflux, there would be no knowledge of it, for there would be no minds to observe it, unless they already existed independent of the universe. The intelligent observer is the out- come of the universe he observes, and must have been implicit in it as intelligence from the begin- ning. These assumptions concerning the original state have been noticed, not to prove that the universe was created by God, but to show that the begin- nings of evolution under whatever conditions (and no antecedent conditions of the universe when it was absolutely changeless can be conceived) were beginnings in a line of progress, beginnings which 164 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION involved ends, and which can be accounted for- only as intelligent purpose realizing itself. 1 Thus, however the world may be regarded, whether in its latest, in its earliest, or in any inter- mediate condition, it is intelligible at all only as it is seen to be an evolution in the progressive realization of ends or ideals. If intelligence and purpose are in it at any point, they are in it at every point. The large correspondence, then, of evolution and ethics is found in the fact that each is the progressive realization of an ideal. In this view, it may be admitted that ethics is one phase of evolution. in The harmony of ethics and evolution is found not only in the whole movement, but more particu- larly in respect to the self -regarding and the sym- pathetic feelings. It is not claimed that the feel- ings of either kind are precisely the same in men and in animals. Too much, I think, has been assumed both as to the moral value and the corre- spondence even of the social instincts. But the sympathetic feelings do work in the same way, to a degree, wherever they are found, especially in reproduction, the care of young, and the gregari- ousness of animal and human societies. Almost all writers on ethics, without any demur, regard the social feelings as essential to virtue, and dis- cover relations or at least analogies of morality in the social instincts of animals. It is obvious, 1 See the acute analysis made by Prof. James Iverach in Christianity and Evolution, ch. 1. MORALITY AND SYMPATHY 165 however, that sympathy of itself has no moral value, not even in man. It may be immoral. There is such a thing as mistaken kindness. Un- willingness to hurt the feelings of a friend may lead to the toleration of faults. Pity may shield wrong-doers from deserved punishment, and clamor for their release. It would open all prison doors indiscriminately and let the captives go free. Spoiled children are the victims of indulgent kind- ness. The hero of a popular novel, who believed he was a poet, persisted in his silly scribblings, and eventually suffered bitter disappointment be- cause a friendly clergyman lacked the courage to disillusionize him. The clergyman fancied he could atone for the harm he had done by preach- ing a sermon which was severe on himself, from the text, "The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel." The exercise of pity is sometimes a purely selfish gratification. There are some whose greatest happiness is to weep with those that weep. As experienced and successful comforters they are aware of their own importance. They are instantly on the spot when a neighbor is ill, and brush all others aside, because they know best how to smooth a pillow, or soften the light, or interpret symptoms. They are great at funerals, believing that it is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting. Pity is their strong point. They take a melancholy plea- sure in the sufferings of others. From profes- sional sympathizers we all may pray to be de- livered. A frequent complaint of those who are truly kind to the poor is the harm done by visitors 166 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION whose motive is the exercise of a dilettante virtue. It is more difficult to rejoice with those that do rejoice than to weep with those that weep, for good fortune awakens envy, but, as has been shrewdly said, the misfortunes of our dearest friends give us secret pleasure. While there can be no real kindness to others without sympathy, feelings of sympathy have, in themselves, no moral quality. With animals, also, regard for others terminates early. As soon as the young one can take care of itself, the mother cares for it no longer. Eeproduction and care of offspring are little more than instincts planted in the physi- cal nature and needs of animals. Some animals show more attachment for human beings than for their own offspring. Domesticated creatures sometimes neglect their young to be in the com- pany of their masters. It cannot be known, how- ever, to what extent human society has modified the canine and feline nature. When, therefore, morality is associated with the social and sympa- thetic feelings, it is not to be identified with them, but is to be regarded as the right direction of those feelings. It is only in this sense that I claim a relation and find a harmony on that side. As strong a case could be made out for the perver- sion of the sympathetic as for the perversion of the self -regard ing feelings. And, if it is correct to find the materials, or at least the conditions and associations, of morality in the other-regarding im- pulses, it is equally correct to find the materials, conditions, or associations of morality in the self- regarding impulses. SELF-ASSERTION AND STRUGGLE 167 IV Passing, then, to self-assertion, we find in it, all the way through sentient life, a correspond- ence to, a necessary condition of, morality. We also find in it, as we do in sympathy, perver- sion and degeneration. From the perversion pro- ceeds much of the waste, loss, and destruction which are contrary to virtue, just as great injury proceeds from misdirected sympathy. In the inorganic realm, moral conditions and analogies do not exist. There are no feelings, impulses, preferences, pleasures, or pains. It is only by accommodation that conformity to law is characterized as obedience. Disobedience is impossible. On the lowest plane of life there are no self- regarding and social feelings. Plants are uncon- scious. They do not enjoy or suffer. Stamens, pistils, pollen, seeds, roots, branches, do their work without any thought or sensation of which plants are conscious. There are some, indeed, who attribute feeling to plants and trees, but they do so poetically, projecting the feeling of the lover of beauty into the crushed flower or the felled oak. We may be fond of flowers, but there is no evidence that they are fond of us or of each other. There is, therefore, no problem con- cerning the waste and destruction of plants. Of a hundred blossoms, only one survives and ma- tures. But the ninety-nine falling to the ground fertilize the soil and enable the survivor to ripen. Enough come to maturity to continue re- 168 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION production. Animals which derive their suste- nance from plants are not cruel in such daily destruction of life. Cattle browsing on the hill- side are noticed as a pleasing feature in the landscape. Even those persons who object to the use of animals as food, and regard beef-eat- ing men as little better than cannibals, make no objection to that destruction of life which pro- vides vegetables and bread for the table. There is no approach to moral considerations until the animal world is entered and the suffer- ing incident to evolution is considered. I cannot, however, discover any moral problem in that realm of life. Animals have an instinct of self- preservation. There must be exertion in order to live. The animal must eat and drink, and must find something to eat and drink. It must roam from place to place in search of food. This is the principal occupation of animals. During the period of gestation the male animal some- times brings food to the female, and after the young are born food is put in their mouths until they are able to find it themselves. But very early they must become self-supporting. If it were not so, each animal would have to gather food for some other, and some other for him, a circuitous way of securing the same result as by self-exertion. Life is a good. Full- ness of life is a good. It therefore must be sought after, preserved, and enriched by the efforts of every creature that has life. The waste and destruction which are incident to the self-preservation of animals are not to be regarded SELF-ASSERTION AND STRUGGLE 169 as having anything to do with morality. It is supposed that pain and death are quite different to animals and to men. There is no fear of death, no painful apprehension of it, but only the momentary pang. It is possible that the beasts of prey exercise something like an hyp- notic influence over their victims, if we may judge from the quietness of the victim and from the sensations of explorers and keepers who have been rescued at the last instant from the lion's paw. Animals prey upon each other, but com- mit no wrong, as carnivorous man commits no wrong in killing animals for food. There is no morality about it, or, if there is any, a plausible argument might be made to show that it would be immoral for the noble lion not to slay and eat inferior animals. An ancient writer said that the young lions roar after their prey and seek their food from God. The carnivorous animals, which have their place in nature, are provided for in nature's storehouse. If there are lions there must be lambs. The lion is the final cause of the lamb. The beasts which are devoured have had their life also, with its satis- factions, and may thank the lion for a compara- tively painless death. It is supposed that there is but little wanton destruction, little killing for the sake of killing. To this there are some exceptions, as with terriers, which will kill any number of rats let out of a cage. But terriers have enjoyed the advantage of several centuries of human civiliza- tion. It is not the death of animals, but only their premature death, that raises any question concern- 170 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION ing" waste and loss. All animals are mortal and o must die sooner or later. The death of animals which are food for other animals is not premature, provided enough survive for the continuance of the species by reproduction. Unless Nature has made a mistake in producing any but herbivorous ani- mals, there is no waste, except in the case of those creatures which die by reason of unfavorable con- ditions, that is, which starve to death prematurely. And, although there are no statistics, it may be believed that the amount of such waste is not enormous. Nature is economical and makes some thrifty use of the unfit who do not survive. There are natural limits on reproduction, which should not be overlooked. Too large a figure has been given for the proportion of non-survivors. A million to one is a wild guess. The geometrical ratio of increase is incorrect. If a cat has four kittens, and those in turn sixteen, and the sixteen sixty-four, and so on, the original cat might, in her lifetime of ten years, have 1,864,120 lineal descend- ants. But that is on the supposition that all are females. If half are males the progeny shrinks to 8,144 in the ten years, and even then all must intermarry. Some might be sterile, or give birth to only one or two kittens, in which case there would be a loss of numbers. As matter of fact, there is no such close interbreeding. Males may predominate in one family and come over into another family for mates. Lines converge. Num- bers increase slowly or not at all. As with men, so with animals, the species enlarges at a mod- erate rate. The ratio of increase is not geometri- SELF-ASSERTION AND STRUGGLE 171 cal, and scarcely arithmetical. We say, to be sure, that certain animals multiply rapidly, but it would be more nearly exact to speak of additions and subtractions. In childhood, one is puzzled by the great number of ancestors, as much as by the pos- sible number of descendants. He has two parents, four grandparents, eight great-grandparents, as he may have two children, four grandchildren, and so on. He seems to be like the central point in an hour-glass, or like a strait between two seas which widen out behind and before. But he learns that other children have the same great-grandparents, that there have been intermarriages, and that, after all, the generations run on parallel lines, that the lines spread a little in some countries and periods, and narrow a little in other countries and periods. It is like a wall covered with paper in diamond pattern. The lines diverge and converge, yet the figures are parallel. As to reproduction and in- crease of population, men and animals are under the same laws. The comparatively stationary num- ber of each species is laid down as a general fact of evolution. There is a normal proportion, which is quickly made good if there has been reduction by exceptional causes, but which does not materi- ally increase. This leads to the most important consideration of all, namely, that self-preservation is of the spe- cies rather than the individual. It is not the case that the individual struggles alone against all com- petitors. Competition for subsistence is between groups. There is union for self-defence. There are warnings against danger. There is coopera- 172 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION tion in many respects. Internal cohesion dimin- ishes the strife between individuals, and therefore diminishes destruction both from within the group and from without. There is not an indiscriminate struggle for existence, with survival of only the fittest individuals, but a cooperative life which reduces loss in proportion to the extent of the group. There are other limitations on indefinite increase of life which can only be mentioned ; such as the demarcation of species by intersterility and the limits of sexual selection within the species. Vari- ations which give individuals advantage are no longer held to be indefinite. Few variations per- sist, the tendency to reversion is so strong. The centripetal are stronger than the centrifugal forces. It is not necessary for our present purpose to con- sider all phases of evolution, but only those which pertain to the struggle for existence with its waste and destruction. The conclusion is that life is to be regarded as a good, that the effort to have full- ness of life is not immoral but is moral, if indeed any moral quality or analogy can be found in it, that the rejection and premature destruction is not enormous as compared with the survivals, and that reproduction and cooperation are as potent as self- regard. On the whole, the conditions under which the self-preservation of the individual and the spe- cies is possible must be a good, or there could be no progress. The value of the life of animals is worth more than the incident of loss. If the loss were enormously greater than the gain, there would be retrogression and final cessation of life. I have PERVERSION INCIDENTAL 173 dwelt upon the waste of animal life, because it has been identified with the waste of human life in discussions of evolution, and has been made a rea- son for putting ethics and evolution in antagonism. A relation of ethics to evolution exists only in human impulses, sentiments, and actions. All that comes over from animal life is self-regard and sympathy. These values have a correspond- ence to similar sentiments in man. From them the moral powers of man may have been derived. But they have moral quality only when directed to self-realization in the worth of persons in so- ciety. But the self-regard of man is accompanied by strife, competition, waste, oppression, and injustice. In this respect the process of his evolution is like that of animals. What, now, shall be concluded concerning the human struggle for existence ? It is obvious that with man, as with animals, exist- ence is a good. What is called the instinct of self-preservation is enough to prove it. If it is necessary it is right to preserve life and to have the satisfactions of life. The effort required is itself an element of the life. The effort to obtain food gives appetite for it. Physical health and strength are dependent on physical exertion. Skill, foresight, intelligence are developed by self-sup- port. The difficulty of sustaining and satisfying life develops the strong and sagacious man. It is the duty of every able-bodied man to take care of himself. If he is taken care of by others, they 174 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION must be able to take care of themselves and to have some surplus for the weak dependent. Self- support is a primary good in any stage of civiliza- tion. This is the truth of Professor W. G. Sum- ner's contention that the first business and duty of every man is to take care of himself. 1 The wisest philanthropists maintain that every healthy per- son should be self-supporting, even if altruism seems thereby to be reduced. Only the defective and children are to be provided for by others. While combined efforts are required to provide physical subsistence and comfort, yet each should bear his proportionate share in producing what is needed. The strongest are those who make their own way. When nature does nearly all for man, as in tropical climates, he is inferior. When na- ture is somewhat rugged and inhospitable, he is superior. The chief danger of socialistic schemes of industry and production is the lack of incen- tive to personal exertion. The struggle for exist- ence is a good. The existence is a good, and the struggle is a good. Man's mastery of nature at the cost of effort is for his advantage and presents no moral problem. It is only when, in gaining subsistence from nature, man comes into conflict with man, and inflicts injury or destroys life, that moral considerations appear. This conflict arises necessarily only if population increases more rap- idly than the means of subsistence. I shall not discuss the Malthusian theory that population in- creases in a geometrical ratio and subsistence only in an arithmetical ratio, and that, were it not for 1 What Social Classes owe to each other, p. 113. PERVERSION INCIDENTAL 175 famines, wars, vice, and crime, within a century the globe could not sustain its population. There are various conditions which limit the increase of population, and, as wars, vices and crimes dimin- ish, there is a lower rate of increase. In civilized countries, the number of children in a family is not greater, as a rule, than can be properly reared and educated. The reduction in number may be carried too far, either from an artifical standard of luxury, or from unwillingness to sacrifice social enjoyment to the bearing and rearing of children. But, on the whole, what is true of the animal orders is true of the human species, namely, a sta- tionary or slowly increasing number, determined by adjustment to environment. This is the rule on all planes of life which are above the savage plane. And savages do not usually wage wars of extermi- nation or decimation because there is lack of sub- sistence, but by reason of ancient feuds and love of conquest. It is very much to be doubted whether strife and destruction are necessary on account of insufficient subsistence. If they are inevitable on the lower savage plane, they are not immoral. If they are not inevitable, but are due to abnormal self-regard and misdirected regard for the social group, they are obviously a perversion, which is to be estimated in view of that moral education which proceeds partly by experience of the evils suffered, and which constitutes progress. I do not deny that the pressure of numbers on subsistence may be severe. But the savage learns that there is scarcity only at certain seasons of the year, and lays by him in store from the season of abundance. 'U1I71RSI1 176 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION By the exercise of forethought he passes from hunt- ing to grazing, and from grazing to agriculture and manufactures and commerce. He exchanges products with the tribes he had been trying to destroy. He passes from war to work, and thus makes the first great advance towards civilization. Pressure on subsistence also stimulates inventive- ness, according to the law that necessity is the mother of invention. Thus the fecundity of na- ture is increased a hundred-fold, until over-pro- duction becomes a worse economic evil than over- population. It is a singular commentary on the prediction of Malthus that at the present time, to which he looked forward with gloomy forebodings in the prospect of multiplied consumers, the serious economic problem is the restriction of production rather than the restriction of population. The conflict of man with man is, in the main, a perversion. The sympathetic and humane senti- ments rebel against it, at least within the limits of a social group. The social group enlarges by confederations, by defensive alliances, by natural boundaries of territory, by the rise and growth of nations, until the sentiment of humaneness finds its correspondence in the entire extent of actual humanity. The conflicts of man with man have, however, developed power. Not seldom even the vanquished have gained by defeat, and the victors have assimilated the intelligence, vigor, and civi- lization of the people whom they have defeated in war, and in whose territory they have settled. Such was the case when the Goths invaded Italy, and when the Normans conquered the Saxons. THE HIGHER VALUES 177 The war between Japan and China has made both nations stronger, and advanced both towards the rank of great powers of the first class. The con- clusions reached at this point are two : that there has been thus far sufficient subsistence for the pop- ulation of the globe if foresight, industry, and in- ventiveness are exercised ; and that man's conflict with his fellow-man is moral perversion, dimly or clearly recognized as such, but which nevertheless has been attended with some advantage in devel- oped power, and in the mingling of races to form the most vigorous nations. It need not be added that wars which have turned on moral issues may have sufficient justification, wars against injus- tice, oppression and slavery, wars for the preserva- tion of a nation. VI The tendency of man's self-seeking in society is to desire those values which are higher than the material. He sees that what he gains by taking from others is on the lower plane. He perceives the value of the higher, only, it may be, by having the lower and finding it is not enough. Possibly he must have this experience in order to value the higher. He at least sees that, by grasping vio- lently or deceitfully from others, he impairs or de- stroys the sources from which he draws, and also the sources, in companionship, of his deeper satis- factions. If his hand is against every man, soon every man's hand will be against him. The higher goods are valued. Thus society, even while the majority are intent on physical and material grati- fication, is dissatisfied, and condemns the pursuit 178 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION of wealth in comparison with knowledge, truth, culture, the home, the State. Some such advance is made. If it is not made, there is no progress in civilization. But the advance is not the substi- tution of altruism for selfishness. It is substitu- tion of the higher for the lower self-realization. It is probable that the perception of the higher is never wholly absent. The interest of savages in nature and their interpretation of it, their rude artistic designs, their religious practices, the sacred- ness of hospitality, the veneration of chiefs and of ancestors, are proof enough that their thoughts are not exclusively occupied with feasting. So much of waste and premature death as occurs belongs to the lower stages of savagery, while life is not yet valued. It is in part perversion, which the savage knows to be wrong, and which he learns to condemn and avoid. The value of life, in the group to which he belongs, is perceived. The life of one of his own family or tribe is worth as much as his own. A rude justice is meted out to those who slay any of their own tribe. Refuge is provided for one who by accident has killed another. The whole kin is held responsible for death inflicted or suffered. Rights of property and of the family are defended. Distinctions of right and wrong become more clear. The wrong is that which is injurious to persons, that which, by the analogies of evolution, may be regarded as reversion or per- version. The circle of those who may not be in- jured widens as tribes unite in the nation, and finally extends to mankind. Whatever amount of destruction there may be in the lower conditions THE HIGHER VALUES 179 of society, the tendency is away from it as civili- zation advances. The inferior and weak are pre- served and protected. Even when civilized na- tions declare war, they do so reluctantly, they pro- fess to desire peace, and find it necessary to show sufficient justification. There is increasing regard for the higher values of industrial prosperity, of good and honest government, of the family, of knowledge, culture, art, letters, and character ; values which are attained by cooperation rather than by competition. I should think no one can doubt that the tendency is to the reduction and cessation of waste, destruction, and oppression. A distressing picture can indeed be drawn of the evils which proceed from greed of gain, from unbridled competition, from selfish ambition, from intemperance and lust ; evils which infest domes- tic, economic, and political life. But also a pic- ture can be drawn which shows enormous improve- ment in the condition of laborers, in the better government of civilized countries, in the education of the masses, in the spirit of philanthropy which knows neither national nor social limits, and above all in the loud and insistent protest against the evils from which society suffers. A few years ago Mr. Spencer and Sir Frederic Harrison attempted to paint the two pictures. Mr. Harrison had de- rided Mr. Spencer's religion, which is the worship of the Great Unknowable. He suggested that for such an object of worship some algebraic symbol for an unknown quantity might as well be em- ployed, for example, x n . He contended that hu- manity is the only proper object of service and 180 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION reverence ; the Grand Eire, of Comte. He de- picted in glowing colors the beauty, nobleness, and greatness of humanity. Mr. Spencer retorted with a representation of actual humanity in such a country as England, with its crime, greed, lust, suffering, beggary, injustice, and derided a reli- gion which has no better object than weak, selfish, coarse, and wicked humanity. Mr. Harrison's pic- ture was an idealization. Mr. Spencer's picture was a horrid caricature. Both were wrong and both were right. But there is hope for society so long as it can produce men who protest so vigo- rously as Mr. Spencer protests. The power to perceive that wickedness and misery are bad is a power for deliverance. Evil does not fully tri- umph till it is approved and praised and flattered. In his rational moods, Mr. Spencer allows no one to surpass him in the advantageous comparison of civilized with savage life. When he came to himself he tried to suppress his part of the con- troversy with Mr. Harrison. There is, then, an ideal humanity towards which actual humanity is, and has long been, tend- ing. There is moral progress which conserves and enriches the life even of the weak and inferior. The number of individuals who seek the higher good increases. Some individuals may take ad- vantage of the good itself to promote base and selfish ends, may take advantage of security of property and safety of person to carry out illegiti- mate schemes. Here is the truth of Mr. Kidd's representations of selfishness. But it is not con- scious individuals against unconscious society. It THE TWO-FOLD RELATION 181 is some individuals in contrast with other individ- uals. In the last analysis there is the individual himself preferring the higher to the lower good. VII I have granted, or rather, have accepted, all that evolution claims, so far as I understand it. Self-preservation with its struggle and survival, and the preservation of species through reproduc- tion and cohesion, furnish the only possible rela- tion to the moral nature and progress of man. The waste and destruction of animal life are the incidents of a real good, and, however extensive they may be, involve no moral considerations. At the most, the self-regard and the sympathy of ani- mals are no more than analogies or precedent con- ditions of the morality of man. Man is another kind of creature. His distinction is found in his recognition of the relative worth of the higher and lower goods of persons. Morality appears when man appears. It is a variation which amounts to an essential differentiation. Man can compare and choose moral values. And he does not first preserve and develop himself by simple self-regard, which is afterwards succeeded by social depend- ence and services. He is not first selfish as a non-moral or an immoral being, and then made moral by the altruism which subdues selfishness. Both self-regard and regard for others are operant from the beginning to the end of life, and, for that matter, are concurrently operant in animals as well as in men. In the case of mankind, there is, throughout, 182 ETHICS AND EVOLUTION the lower self and the higher self, the lower society and the higher society. Even when all are chiefly intent on the lower goods, there is cooperation as well as selfishness. The progress of individuals consists in the realization of the higher rather than of the lower self. The progress of society is the same thing, for society is simply and only the persons who compose it. Man's perversion is the supremacy of the lower, which is selfishness. Con- cerning this I shall have something to say in the chapter on personal degeneration. Man's salva- tion is the supremacy of the higher, in which is his self-realization, his self-perfection. Concerning this I shall have something to say in the chapters on personal and social regeneration. The Chris- tian doctrines of sin and regeneration designate important facts pertaining to the moral condition of man. The doctrine of sin has a counterpart in reversion, which is always implied in the selection and survival of evolution, the selection which involves rejection, the survival of the fittest which involves at least the existence of that which is un- fit. The doctrine of regeneration has a counter- part in the survival of the strong and the progress of the race. On any theory, the waste, failure, and loss of life presents a difficult problem, a pro- blem which is insoluble, except as it is found that there is progress on the whole. On any theory also, the existence of sin, with its disease, suffer- ing, and cruelty, presents a difficult problem, a problem which is insoluble, except as it is found that there is power of recovery and moral health for the individual and power of moral progress for THE TWO-FOLD RELATION 183 society. Both evolution and ethics admit perver- sion and reversion. Both find that, in spite of failure and loss, men in society move along an up- ward path. In view of the large correspondences which have been recognized, it may be confidently maintained that ethics is not opposed to evolution in any sort of antagonism, nor insulated from it in any sort of independence, nor identified with it as if man had no distinctive character, but is harmo- nious with it through man's realization of the good in that freedom which is perfect obedience to per- fect law. CHAPTER VIII MORALITY AND RELIGION MORALITY may properly enough be regarded as the outcome of a prolonged process. If it is so regarded, the process is seen to issue in a self- conscious, intelligent being who comprehends the universe in its laws and development, a being who has ideals which are obligatory, a being who is related to other beings like himself in reciprocity of rights and duties. Either the variations which appeared at points of advance were new movements introduced from some source other than the uni- verse, or all the differentiations, physical, psychi- cal, and moral, were present potentially within the universe. In either case, the universe now contains man, such as he is in bodily, intellectual, and moral constitution, and in organic relation with his fellow-men. This outcome of the process implies the purpose inherent in the process. Evolution, culminating in man, in rational, moral, social man, is not a blind and purposeless, but an intelli- gent and purposive process. The outcome cannot otherwise be understood. That which is implicit all along, in the lowest as in the highest stages, becomes explicit to reflection as the purpose which finds its highest realization in man. In other words, the universe with all that is in it implies God. A divine element is in all the evolution REASON IN THE UNIVERSE 185 which, on the earth, issues in humanity. There- fore morality has a relation to religion. This rela- tion is involved in the very existence of morality as the completion of an ascending evolution, and is direct in the close connection which has always obtained between practical morality and religious belief. We pass therefore to the consideration of this relation. Several lines will be followed, although all of them, the implicit and the explicit, converge into one line and arrive at one conclu- sion. I The evidence of purpose in the universe must first be considered. It is seen that the entire process of evolution, up to and including man, is the realized purpose of reason. There is thought in the universe, which we did not put into it, but which we find in it. That which our thought per- ceives and understands is itself thought. There is correspondence of mind with mind. Over fixed points already in line, prediction sights along the range of law and foresees the coming event. Mathematical laws worked out in intellectual soli- tude are traced objectively in the orbits of the planets. The moment of an eclipse is foretold. The discovery of a planet is prophesied. The world is understandable. That which is intelligi- ble has intelligence in it. The theory has been advanced that our thought is merely the inner side of things in necessary correspondence with the im- pressions made from without, like the inverse and obverse sides of an embossed plate. But, if thought is the concave side of the convex universe, the 186 MORALITY AND RELIGION concave is intelligence and so the convex must be intelligence. Man did not create either side of the shield. Man himself is part of the universe, the highest part, and he is intelligent, hence the whole must be intelligence. I will not traverse the theories of subjective creating its own objective, of appearance and reality, of things as they seem and things in themselves, of phenomenon and nou- menon. It is enough to say that every argument against the trustworthiness of thought assumes the validity of the argument. The doubter assumes some intellectual premises which cannot be doubted. Otherwise he could not argue at all. And every argument against the reality of an intelligible universe assumes the existence of something which occasions thought. The proof that reality is dif- ferent from appearance assumes that there is the appearance which is perceived and discussed. The appearance is real, is not the thinker's creation, and is the appearance of law, order, thought, intelli- gence. If man is indeed a product into which the forces of the universe have entered, if he cannot be separated from the whole process, then there must have been intelligence all the way through. The longer, more continuous, and more intimately related the process is believed to be, the greater, not the less, reason there is for finding thought in it. If the primordial atoms contained all, they must have been highly endowed atoms. What is taken out of atoms chemical, organic, human potencies has to be put into them beforehand. Materialists, who claim that matter alone is the potency of all that is, have been obliged to charge REASON IN THE UNIVERSE 187 the atoms more and more highly and variously. Dr. Mar-tineau, in his address on Eeligion and Materialism, signalizes this increased investiture of original elements : " But surely you must ob- serve how this ' Matter ' of yours alters its style with every change of service : starting as a beggar, with scarce a rag of ' property ' to cover its bones, it turns up as a Prince, when larger undertakings are wanted, loaded with investments, and within an inch of a plenipotentiary. . . . You deposit at your bank a round sum ere you start ; and, draw- ing on it piecemeal at every pause, complete your grand tour without a debt. . . . Such extremely clever Matter Matter that is up to everything, even to writing ' Hamlet,' and finding out its own evolution, and substituting a molecular plebiscite for a divine monarchy of the world, may fairly be regarded as a little too modest in its disclaimer of the attributes of Mind." A tree comes from a seed, but there must be that mysterious potential- ity, a tree-seed, to start with. A wooden peg, whittled into exact resemblance to a seed, would rot in the ground. If the existence, much more the progressive evo- lution of the universe signifies thought." Progress means purpose. Advance from lower and simpler to higher and more complicated organisms, from inanimate to animate, from instinct to self -con- sciousness and choice, from brute to man, from cave-dweller to city-builder, from barbarism to culture, is purposive advance in the adaptation of means to end. Plan means intelligence. Although design in itself does not demonstrate the existence 188 MORALITY AND RELIGION of the Absolute and Eternal God, it does find the element of thought coextensive with the universe, in which no part is separate from any other part. The yellow primrose on the river's brim is an ex- pression of the cosmic forces of heat, light, gravi- tation, chemical affinity. To know the flower in the crannied wall, root and all, and all in all, is to know God and man. When design in organism was likened to human design shaping materials already given, and God was thought of as an ex- ternal artificer, the teleological argument was not conclusive. But when organism takes the place of mechanism, when design is found in the very texture of things the whole fabric weaving out a pattern in the roaring loom of time then the thought expressed in purpose is seen to be as ab- solute as the universe itself, to the origination of which imagination cannot go back, nor to its ces- sation go forwards. Force itself, ever energizing, is of God. Force, which is ever evolving into forms, which is not mere sequence, but power and life throbbing in every atom, in every wave of light and heat, in magnetic polarity, is known to us by the power which we exert and direct, and so we conclude that the never-resting and undiininished resident forces of nature come forth from the eternal Will directed by the eternal Reason. Science cannot crowd religion out. It cannot, indeed, get on without religion, unless it confines itself to the mere classification of phenomena. Its every postulate, of cause as universal and neces- sary, of primordial atoms with potencies, of motion THE MORAL ORDER OF HISTORY 189 imparted to inert matter, of what must be in what is, of the universal in the particular, of progress from lower to higher, is assumption of the Absolute and Eternal. It is not even true that science and religion have distinct provinces. They are only different modes of viewing the same facts. Nature and man are the province of both. Science knows them in themselves. Eeligion knows God in and through them. Nor does science pertain to intellect and re- ligion to feeling. Nature awakens feelings of won- der and beauty. There is no emotionless science. And, on the other hand, the God who is revered, worshiped, and loved must be known in his works and ways, that religion may be more than super- stition. An unknown God, whom men ignorantly worship, is no God at all. Such worshipers, even on Mars Hill, need an apostle to declare the true God unto them. If, now, the universe signifies God, that which is highest and best in the uni- verse, namely, man, with his reason, his moral ideals, and his character, must be closely related to the God he has discovered. Morality is insep- arable from religion. Although an individual may be moral, in some respects, without having personal piety, yet even so, as we shall see, his morality is not religionless. We proceed, therefore, to the moral customs and the moral nature of man in their relation to divine purpose. II We observe, first, that there is a moral order in history, and that this order realizes a purpose 190 MORALITY AND RELIGION which lies beneath the plans of individuals and nations, a purpose, therefore, which is divine. As the course of history is followed, it is seen pro- ceeding on moral lines. The philosophy of history traces intellectual advancement in widening know- ledge, especially in discovery of nature's secrets, by which man obtains mastery of her forces. But knowledge alone is not progress. To travel swiftly, to communicate at a distance instantaneously, to shape iron, to weave cloth, to produce food in abundance, is merely to have tools. These may contribute to, but do not constitute, progress. They may impede it, by ministering to luxurious, effem- inate, and vicious tastes. What use does clever man make of his sharpened tools ? What does he become in character? The story of witty inven- tions is a superficial philosophy of history. Curi- osity asks how the blocks of the Pyramids were raised to their places. Ingenuity endeavors to re- produce the lost arts. But the estimate of history is directed to the ancient Egyptians themselves, and, in view of slavery, terrorism, and the cheap- ness of human lives, pronounces on their civiliza- tion the verdict of decadence. Inner decay shows all the darker against the splendid monuments. Egyptian art embalmed dead civilization and mum- mies together, exposing to later times the arrested decay. The remains of old Egypt are a magnifi- cient mausoleum. When Babylon and Nineveh were in their glory of gorgeous palaces and majes- tic temples, were circumvallated in mile after mile of walls, ramparts, and towers, were defended by vast armies and fed by a million slaves, were full THE MORAL ORDER OF HISTORY 191 of pomp, were the envy and the dread of the sur- rounding nations, the Hebrew prophet foresaw their downfall and cried, " Woe to Babylon," " Woe to Assyria." He saw that the elements of decay were fast undermining that civilization built on oppression and vice, and that it was crumbling to the ruin of inevitable and crushing downfall. He was the first to see and to proclaim that the old East was dead. A later prophet declared of the new Babylon, seated on her seven hills, filling up the measure of her iniquities, that she is dead while she liveth. History judges ancient civiliza- tions by a moral standard. When, in contrast, in- stitutions, laws, customs, life, deserve favorable judgment, it is because men are equal in rights, obedient to law, patriotic, independent. Perma- nent and progressive civilization preserves equity, maintains justice, promotes freedom, cultivates in- telligence. It has the moral values. When pro- gress can be traced, landmarks are recognized in transition out of slavery, out of feudalism, out of autocracy, oligarchy, aristocracy, towards and into democracy. The moral order, as observed in history, is a divine order, for it is above the purpose of this or that individual, above the purpose of any single genera- tion. It is a common saying that we are too near to understand the movement of our own times. We surmise it in part, but only in part. Looking back a century or more, we see the peoples emer- ging into liberty. The change is distinct. But we also see that few at the time knew what was happen- ing, while the many were only aware of vague dis- 192 MORALITY AND RELIGION content, or were only trying to throw off a single form of injustice. Sometimes we say that we are in the midst of a movement which in later times will be regarded as more significant than any of the po- litical and social changes of the past. But we must at the same time admit that we can make no clear forecast of the actual changes which will occur. We have such expectation by comparison of nine- teenth-century symptoms with eighteenth-century symptoms, rather than by unmistakable interpre- tation of the signs which hang in our sky. A pro- phet may be without honor in his own country, but in his own time he has more honor than in sub- sequent times. The most astute statesmen have been woefully mistaken in their forecast of political changes. Their predictions have been falsified in their own lifetime. Mr. Pearson, in " National Life and Character," a book which he calls a Forecast, has brought together several striking instances of false prophecy. He speaks of Burke's prediction, in 1793, that France would be partitioned, like Poland, among a confederacy of hostile powers ; of Canning's expectation that the South American colonies would grow up as the United States had grown ; of the Duke of Wellington's remark in 1832 that " few people will be sanguine enough to imag- ine that we shall ever again be as prosperous as we have been ; " of the opinion generally entertained in England that the Southern Confederacy would become an independent American nation. Mr. Pearson, after mentioning several prophecies that have been verified, as Lord Chesterfield's and Goldsmith's, thirty years before the event, of the THE MORAL ORDER OF HISTORY 193 French Revolution ; De Tocqueville's, also thirty years before the civil war in this country, that the Southern States were the one part of the Ameri- can Union in which disruption was likely to be at- tempted ; and Alexander Hamilton's, that London and New York would become the chief commercial emporia of the world, suggests that correct pro- phecies have pointed to remote, incorrect prophe- cies to near events, and concludes that the power of divination concerns itself with general laws which are not controlled by legislation, and which are more easily recognized, rather than with the practi- cal and conflicting interests of the present. A re- cent instance of mistaken prediction is found in the general expectation that, after the first skir- mishes, China would crush Japan. There may be a manifest destiny of nations, but it is more mani- fest in retrospect than in prospect. Progress, then, is made. On the long ranges of history it can be clearly discerned. As we peer into the future it can only be surmised. There is a purpose which takes up our efforts into it. It is best understood as a divine purpose partly disclosed, partly con- cealed. The master-builder knows better than the workmen know the plan of the edifice they are erecting. But as it rises under their hands, imagina- tion can anticipate the completed structure. The progress of the world, be it dimly seen or clearly seen, is in the line of the moral order of society. It is this divine ordering of progress upon which Mr. Kidd has fastened. That ordering is larger than our plans and efforts. It is not fully understood by us, as the soldier does not fully understand the 194 MORALITY AND RELIGION plan of battle. But it is not, as he mistakenly argues, against our reason. It is rather the high- est reason. There is some recognition of it in the lowest conditions of society, as the universality of religion and superstition shows. As men grow in understanding they recognize it more clearly and cooperate with it more effectually. It is the irra- tional, the ignorant man, not the rational man, who fails to perceive the increasing purpose which through the ages runs. Paulsen bases his philosophy upon growths of knowledge, law, society, according to a unitary process which individuals perceive and in a meas- ure consciously cooperate with, but which they do not create. " A nation," he says, " does not design its life and then complete it according to a plan ; its life is gradually unfolded, unknown to the peo- ple themselves. The retrospective historian is the first to see unity and harmony in it." So of scien- tific knowledge. He says that " sciences were not invented and developed according to plan ; they grew. Mythological cosmology is their original germinal form, the first rough outline of a unitary world-view. From it philosophy developed, and from philosophy the separate sciences gradually grew like so many different branches of a com- mon stock. The entire unitary evolution was not thought out by a human intellect and designed, as a builder designs the work which is executed by a thousand hands, in the course of so many decades. The germ of knowledge unfolded itself by a kind of inner necessity ; not without the aid of individ- ual reason, it is true, but yet in such a way that no THE IDEAL ORDER OF HUMANITY . 195 one commanded a view of the whole and the entire course of the development." : The rational man says of great national and social movements of progress what he says of his own life : " There 's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will." History, disclosing an order, a plan, an evolu- tion, above the plans of this or that person, and above the combined purposes of short-lived men, implies, not, as some strangely insist, the absence of God, but rather his constant presence and work- ing, even until now. in Morality still more conclusively signifies religion when we turn from the actual order of the world to the ideal order of the world. There is deep- rooted belief in the triumph of the good. The conviction that duty must be done at all hazards is the conviction that right will conquer wrong, what- ever present appearances may be. There have been men who have given up religious belief, yet have clung to duty even at the cost of life. The sacred and absolute obligation of right has been the anchor of their souls. They have believed that death ends the existence of the individual, and yet yes, and therefore have followed unswerv- ingly in the path of duty. They sacrifice profit, pleasure, popularity, health, life, for the sake of duty. They swim against the current till they are drowned and the waves close over them. What is 1 Introduction to Philosophy, pp. 203, 206. 196 . MORALITY AND RELIGION this imperative of duty which may not be disobeyed even when there is no belief in God or immortal- ity? It is indestructible faith in the ultimate triumph of righteousness. The wrong is the false, the absurd, the deceptive, the weak, the perish- able. In the end it must succumb. The right is the true, and the truth is mighty and will prevail. But again the question presses, Whence comes this undying faith in the triumph of the good ? Is it created by the actual observed order of the world ? The dominance of the right may indeed be per- ceived as the pages of history are turned. But so firm a conviction of the conquering power of goodness is not gained by a survey of the rise and fall of nations. Evil is strong. Evil is prosper- ous. Suffering, cruelty, injustice, caprice, stain every page of the age-long record. The pessimist marshals multudinous facts in support of his phi- losophy, if it may be called a philosophy, of moral chaos. Experience can confirm but cannot create faith. Morever, this faith was controlling when as yet history was unwritten, when the righteous man was ignorant of the world back of him and around him, when he knew only the two generations which preceded him, and when the overhanging mountains and the seashore were the boundaries of his universe. Yet then, the good man, standing alone in the midst of a crooked and perverse gen- eration, was steadfast in his righteousness. The actual order oppressed him with a problem. He was perplexed by the prosperity of the wicked and the sufferings of the righteous. Heathen writers struggled with the problem. The writers of the THE IDEAL ORDER OF HUMANITY 197 Bible struggled with it. The books of Job and Ecclesiastes and some of the Psalms are pathetic in striving to pierce the gloom. But belief in the triumph of the good always emerges unshaken in confidence. Faith fastens on some explanation. It believes there will be a future rectification, either in this world or in the next, and that retri- bution awaits the wicked. The explanation may be illogical. Skepticism may sneeringly ask how from the failure of retribution in the world we know, it can be inferred that retribution will come in the world we do not know. But this or any other par- ticular explanation is an expression of the unquench- able faith which must have some expression. Exact retribution in the future may be a crude solution of the problem. But the demand for a solution is the faith itself, confident that some way or other the right will prevail. Therefore faith in the right has not been determined by majorities. One voice raised in protest against wrong is mightier than the multitude following evil. The voice crying in the wilderness prepares the way of the Lord. Luther against the church, Athanasius against the world, right against wrong, truth against falsehood, are mightier than their foes. " Now there was found in it a poor wise man, and he by his wisdom de- livered the city ; yet no man remembered that same poor man." Prophet or reformer is the entering wedge which splits the mass asunder. Elijah, fan- cying himself alone in loyalty to Jehovah, was told to go back into the evil world he had deserted before he was assured that there were seven thou- sand as loyal as he. Abraham should not have 198 MORALITY AND RELIGION stopped praying till he was sure there was not so much as one righteous man in Sodom. The drama idealizes life. It must portray the triumph of the good, and depict the folly and failure of the bad. It may seem untrue to actual life. But the specta- tors demand the exposure and overthrow of lago, of Shylock, of Macbeth. Right ought to triumph. The drama is the faith of men projected before their eyes in situations and characters created by genius. The Old Testament Scriptures are dra- matic as well as historical writings. Characters are selected. The significance of events is pointed out. Uneventful years are passed over. Wickedness is defeated. Righteousness triumphs. The career of Abraham could be easily dramatized, and the story of Joseph, and the Exodus out of Egypt, and the experience of Job (who was perhaps an imagi- nary character), and the narrative of Elijah, Ahab, and Jezebel. These personages and events have in fact furnished materials for the great dramatic oratorios. Drama and religious history assume that a divine purpose is realized in the moral order of society, that the good which ought to prevail will prevail. In the narrow compass of a few pages or a few selected scenes, the meaning of life is interpreted in an epitome of years or even cen- turies. Faith in the triumph of righteousness de- manding such solution of the problem of life is faith in the righteous purpose of God. This de- mand, what is it but faith in the power not our- selves which makes for righteousness ? But yet again the question presses, How do we know that the ideal order is anything other than THE IDEAL ORDER OF HUMANITY 199 our own wishes, hopes, or fancies ? Is it not mere illusion ? What reason have we to believe that the ideal, the perfect ideal, will ever be real- ized ? Does not the very contrast of the ideal with the actual show that it is a dream ? There are two answers to these questions. One of the answers is given by another question : How is it that, having only the actual, we perceive the ideal ? and perceive it as better than the actual ? Is it not from the very nature of the right as ex- perienced ? Is it not because the actual does pre- sent a problem just on account of the presence and power of evil? The ideal state of righteousness and love would present no problem. We know, by the very perplexity which evil occasions, that right is in itself superior to wrong, that it is the sworn an- tagonist of wrong, and is destined to prevail. We see that evil is nothing in and of itself. It is only negation of the good. It is only that which dis- places the good. It is preventive, privative, par- asitic. It has no productive power, but only de- stroying power. It is the bad use of a good thing. It converts means of goodness into ultimate ends. If The gratifications of sense, which are right when subordinate, are wrong when supreme. The attain- ments of intellect, which are right when subservient to character and duty, are wrong when they are made the end, or are subservient to covetousness, injustice, and oppression. / Mephistopheles, Satan, Ahriman are cunning, clever, alert. The devil is an impersonation of one who is all brains and no heart. Evil reverses right proportion. When the hyperbole of poetry, evil, be thou my good, 200 MORALITY AND RELIGION is translated into prose, it is inverted into its oppo- site, good, be thou my evil. That which depends on the good for its very existence, as disease feeds on the vitality it invades, which is wrong only be- cause it is the act of a moral being constituted for righteousness, shows the ideal by contrast. The ideal is seen in the absence of perversion, contra- diction, and abnormity. The ideal is not a dream. It is the right righting itself, setting itself free from reversions and perversions. The ideal is the normal. It is not the contrast and opposition of the actual. It is the normal recovering itself by eliminating the abnormal. The other answer runs deeper, and is indeed the ground of the first answer. The answer is, that the ideal moral order is not an ideal of our own creation, but is the divine idea of the good, re- vealed to us in our constitution, our convictions, and our very consciousness, confirmed to us in the experience of good with its sanctions and of evil with its penalties, and reflected with increasing clearness in the moral progress and civilization of mankind. This is the truth of Matthew Arnold's impersonal and attenuated philosophy of religion ; the Power not ourselves that makes for Righteous- ness. The constitution of man and the constitution of society are moral. The self-realization of man and the self-realization of society are on the lines of righteousness. The divine purpose which is ful- filled in the universe will be fulfilled in the high- est product of the universe, in man, the moral and social being. The moral ideals of man are not his own creation any more than his moral and social THE IDEAL ORDER OF HUMANITY 201 constitution, in which those ideals are implicit, is his own creation. ^Belief in the triumph of good- ness is not a dream which might as well have been some other fancy, but is just nature asserting itself ; that intellectual and moral nature which knows God as reason and righteousness, fulfilling his eter- nal purpose of truth and goodness in man, the work of his hands. Absolute devotion to duty is belief in the certain triumph of the good ; and that belief, consciously or unconsciously, is faith in God, the righteous and true. Faith in repose rests in profound security on the foundation, and says meditatively: "It is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves ; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. . . . For the Lord is good ; his mercy is everlasting ; and his truth endureth to all generations." Faith, well-nigh overwhelmed with trouble, is able to ejaculate, " Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." Faith, tempted to impa- tience by the power of evil, cannot repress the in- quiry, " How long, O Lord ? " But the faith is deeper than the impatience, for the whole question is, " How long, O Lord, holy and true ? " and it never for a moment imagines that the saints on earth will give over their sainthood because they are not avenged. And, as to the actual moral order and progress of the world, it is nearer the truth to say that faith in the purpose of God sees that purpose developing in time than to say that observed progress creates faith in ultimate tri- umph. The exact truth is that faith and fact cor- respond, that faith interprets fact because it has the right perspective, and that fact confirms faith. 202 MORALITY AND RELIGION Pfleiderer, tracing this correspondence, says: " When we thus look with the eye of the faith which is based on God into the historical world, we also find infallibly in it, notwithstanding all its evils and painful disharmonies in detail, the traces of the ruling of that governing righteousness and wisdom, which so direct the course of things that, in spite of all the wrong in individual things, right nevertheless comes in the whole of humanity to an ever firmer and purer existence. All the resist- ance which the realization of the good finds every- where in detail cannot hinder us from recognizing its victorious progress in the whole of the world's history ; and the very fact that it constantly as- serts itself only in conflict with the resisting will of individuals nay more, that this very resistance contributes as a spur and stimulus to the ever richer and more powerful development of the moral idea enables us to recognize the more distinctly the revelation of the divine will as the ground and law of the moral process of humanity." 1 IV The relation of morality to religion is found in the individual as well as in society. The impera- tive of duty is laid on every one. It is not self- imposed nor socially imposed. The authoritative law is neither enacted nor repealed by human con- vention. It is sometimes expressed in the custom- ary, but sometimes defies the customary. It is binding on every individual. The imperative of obligation is a law of his constitution. Conscience 1 Philosophy and Development of Religion, vol. i., pp. 179, 180. MORAL LAW UNIVERSAL 203 is not a property which one can do as he likes with. A child defined it in those very terms, as " something inside that we cannot do what we like with." Dr. Dorner says, " It is not man that possesses conscience so much as conscience that possesses man." The imperative of duty as denned in the chapter on the Right is the obliga- tion to realize the Ideal. The ideal is the normal constitution of man, in the proportion and perfec- tion of his powers. This ideal is God's idea of man. If the universe in its existence and evolu- tion is a revelation of the thought and purpose of God, then the ideal of man, which carries obliga- tion, is the idea of God presented as moral law. This is the familiar moral argument for the exist- ence of God, and need not be developed. The argument is confirmed by the consequences of obedience and disobedience. The satisfaction, the health, the growth, which attend obedience, the unrest, disturbance, disease, suffering, which at- tend disobedience, reenforce the truth that man is made for righteousness, that the law is given by God, in whom physically, intellectually, and morally we live, and move, and have our being. The universality of moral law is an evidence that it is divine. All men are under the same law. It is not different for different persons. If honor is nobler than fraud in me, so it is in others. Try as we may, we cannot reverse the order of higher and lower for any man. There is an invariable constitution of humanity. The ideal of worth is 204 MORALITY AND RELIGION not individual: it is human. "The supposition of subjective morals is no less absurd than the supposition of subjective mathematics," says Mar- tineau. The moral law is the truth of reason. It corresponds to the reason and worth of man as man. As there are not different kinds of reason for different men, there are not different kinds of morality for different men. A science of ethics is possible because the principles of morality, like the laws of mathematics, are the same everywhere and for all minds. John Stuart Mill put feeling into mathematics when he affirmed that he would go to hell rather than believe that goodness is not the same in God as in man, and began his argument by denying that two and two make five for any minds in any part of the universe. It is as impossible to conceive that falsehood promotes the worth of any intelligence in any part of the universe. The absolute, indefeasible worth of every man, which every other is bound to respect and promote, creates society. It is the ground of sympathy. It is the possibility of service. It unifies society. The worth of individuals is not mutually exclusive, but is reciprocal. This moral unification of all men may be regarded as the divine constitution of society, and is valued by some writers as the most conclusive evidence of the divine thought embodied in humanity. 1 1 Outlines of Social Theology. By William DeWitt Hyde, President of Bowdoin College. Morality and Religion: being the Kerr Lectures for 1893-94. By Rev. James Kidd. THE RIGHTEOUSNESS OF GOD 205 VI One step further may now be taken. The ideal, recognized as obligatory by all men but not per- fectly attained by any, implies the existence of perfect righteousness in God, who made man for righteousness. It cannot be argued that the real- ization of the moral ideal is imperative on us, but does not necessarily belong to the very nature of God who lays the law on us ; that he has com- manded and sanctioned morality for us as that which fulfills the intention of our being, but that he may be a non-moral being, just the unknowable Power energizing in all existence. This would lead to the conclusion that goodness is not rational but arbitrary. Good and bad would be merely in the sphere of the world, and not in the being who expresses himself in his world. Goodness would rest on might, not on right. This would end in denying reason to God. Right is to us the high- est reason. In the right we read God's thought. But if his thought does not express his character, does not reveal himself, we are deceived in sup- posing that we know God in the ideals of goodness. That which is the highest truth of reason to us, and is known as that which ought to be, must be reason and reality in God. As an idea of the di- vine mind, it is an idea of that which ought to be ; hence, in him who reveals his thought to us, the idea must be reality. Neither is it to be held that morality has a merely potential existence in God, and that it comes to reality only when the universe is devel- 206 MORALITY AND RELIGION oped to its highest point in man. For then some- thing would be lacking to the perfectness of God. He must wait to perfect himself till man appears to complete that which was wanting. The creation does indeed wait, groaning within itself, for the revealing of the sons of God, but God, the source and ground of the creation, does not wait for time and man before he becomes actual and perfect righteousness. The universe becomes ; God is. Neither has the law of right an existence inde- pendent of God, as a law according to which he created man. There are no laws of any kind ex- isting in their own independence. Laws are the constitution of things. Moral laws are the consti- tution of character. The perfect law is but the mode, the generalization of conduct and charac- ter. God does not find laws first and make things conform to them afterwards. Then law is the Ab- solute, and God is a Demiurge, shaping materials according to eternal laws. Neither does he make laws by his power, in an arbitrary fashion. He is the eternal truth, the eternal goodness ; and laws express his reason and character. The will of God is not, as bare will, the ground and authority of right. When we say, " It is right because God wills it," we say what is true, but have reached the approximate, not the final reason of right. It is because we know God is perfect good- ness and love that we obey his commands. It is his will because it is right, and it is right because God is the God of righteousness ; precisely as a child says, " It is right because father told me to do it." The child believes that his father is good and MORALITY WITHOUT RELIGION 207 loving, and will require only that which is best for the child. "The mere good pleasure of God "is as mischievous a phrase as theologizing man ever coined to misrepresent God. It .means that he might just as well have done otherwise. It means that we cannot know anything in God or anything in men which led him to elect some rather than others to eternal life. It means that God is merely power which goes crashing through the world. God is himself the perfect one, and in the ideals he sets before us, with requirement of them, he reveals his own character. Dorner says : " If morality at first is not perfect in fact in the world, so much the more must it be such in God. . . . In God morality has an aboriginal existence ; it has a place where the actual is eternally perfect, and therefore it can become for the world obliga- tion and law. . . . The good does not float and flit around in the universe without a vehicle or real substratum, but, eternally rooted in God, it seeks to spread out and become fruitful in the world also by means of a process of growth." 1 Above all, the good is self-imparting. Love is its law. It is from a Being of goodness that the world has sprung, a world in which moral beings exist and come to their perfection in goodness and love. Such impartation shows that God is the per- fect goodness in living reality. VII But is there not genuine morality without reli- gion ? Are there not upright, conscientious, and 1 Christian Ethics, pp. 64, 65. 208 MORALITY AND RELIGION philanthropic men who are agnostic as to God and immortality ? I have already indicated that devo- tion to duty implies faith in the triumph of the good, and so in a divine order of society. But this implicit faith may not be conscious faith. Men whose morality cannot be doubted expressly dis- claim religious beliefs. They are unreligious mor- alists. Is not morality, then, independent of reli- gion ? May it not exist without religious basis or sanction? In answer to these questions several considerations arise. To those who practice only a conventional and reputable morality the questions do not pertain. Men who boast that they do not cheat and do not tell lies, who reduce their goodness to a safe mini- mum and ask defiantly, " What need is there of more, what need is there of religion, what lack I yet? "are not the men of whom we are thinking. Theirs is not the genuine morality of disposition, motive, love of right for right's sake. It is a purely selfish morality. Safety and success are its only objects. We are thinking of those to whom duty is sacred and paramount. It must first be observed that they are not en- tirely free from religious influences. They have been reared in Christian homes, have lived in a religious community under the shadow of churches, have been familiar with the Bible, have derived their ideas of goodness from Christian standards. The individual who relinquishes religion still lives in a community whose common spirit affects the spirit of each individual. These isolated cases do not, then, present an example of morality insulated MORALITY WITHOUT RELIGION 209 from religious influences and standards. To em- ploy a homely illustration, one house may safely dispense with lightning-rods if all the other houses of the village are provided with them. To obtain a specimen of un religious morality it is necessary to imagine the absence of religious faith from the whole community for several generations. There never has been such a community, so it is impos- sible to know what morality would be without religion. The standard might be lowered to the useful. The sacredness of obligation might be reduced. With no reverence for the holy will of God, with no thought of men as the children of one good and loving Father, with no belief in the immortal worth of the soul, with no faith in God's righteous purpose assuring the triumph of the good, with no knowledge of the example of Jesus, morality might be in danger of contraction into utilities of comfort. So far as history bears testi- mony on this point, it shows that periods of skepti- cism and atheism have been periods of immorality. Kevivals of morality which have followed such peri- ods have been revivals of religious faith, under the leadership of reformers who have had invincible faith in God, have threatened divine judgment on wickedness, and have proclaimed God's holy law. It should be remembered also that the discarded religion has often been dogmas and forms rather than true religion ; dogmas of unethical and exter- nal salvation, of arbitrary decrees, of favoritism, and the like ; forms of ecclesiasticism and of ritual, empty of religious meaning. Against these the religionless moralist, as he styles himself, is pro- 210 MORALITY AND RELIGION testing in the name of true religion, for he believes in goodness as the only salvation, in righteousness rather than formalities, and in the triumph of goodness and righteousness in the world. But if the case really is that belief even in a good God is given up, and that man is not regarded as having absolute and eternal worth, but as a higher animal destined like the lower animals to perish, it will almost inevitably follow that the philanthropic side of goodness will be narrowed. One who sees men not merely as they are in their selfishness, mal- ice and ingratitude, but in their possibilities as chil- dren of God whom God loves, and destined for im- mortality, is not disheartened by the badness, the hardness, the impurity he sees. But one who sees only the reality becomes discouraged. His enthu- siasm cools. He becomes pessimistic. He may still for himself adhere tenaciously to duty. But he is likely to isolate himself in his righteousness. His strength may defy the world and all its evil customs ; but he lacks the faith which overcomes the world. He is not himself overcome of evil ; but he does not overcome evil with good. This tendency is finely described by Pfleiderer : " It is undoubtedly possible that even where the wings of philanthropic enthusiasm have been broken by rough contact with reality, the feeling of duty may still remain strong enough to determine permanently the moral guidance of life. Experience shows us not seldom such stoical characters, who, without loving men, and even with expressed contempt of them, yet keep firm and unmoved to duty for the sake of duty. Undisturbed by the success or fail- MORALITY WITHOUT RELIGION 211 ure of their actions, they hold fast to what they know to be right as that which is commanded by their reason. They respect the law of their reason, because they must otherwise lose respect for them- selves. Such virtue we must always regard as es- timable ; we may well admire its power of defying the world, but we will hardly trust its power to overcome the world. The very hardness which it uses to protect and steel itself against the world, slays those tenderer feelings which biad man to the world and open to him the entrance to the hearts of his fellow-men. The rough severity of this virtue does not exercise a warming and attract- ing, but a repelling and chilling, influence upon its surroundings ; it isolates the moral person from society, and thereby cuts off his moral influence upon it; and the feeling of this isolation engenders but too easily a pessimistic bitterness and proud haughtiness towards the despised crowd." * Wordsworth had the religionless moralist in mind as one of those who visited a poet's grave : " A moralist perchance appears ; Led, Heaven knows how ! to this poor sod : And he has neither eyes nor ears ; Himself his world, and his own God ; " One to whose smooth-rubbed soul can cling Nor form, nor feeling-, great or small ; A reasoning-, self-sufficing thing, An intellectual All-in-all! " While there may be morality which has no conscious religious motive, yet the best type of morality is consciously religious. I believe that all 1 Philosophy and Development of Religion, vol. i., pp. 62, 63. 212 MORALITY AND RELIGION i sincere moral action is of divine origination, for God made man moral in perception, capability, and obligation, and established the social relations of rights and duties. But without faith in God, morality is limited and defective. Faith in God, who is perfect goodness, filial trust in him as Father and love of men as children of one Father, produces the purest character, the best self-culture, the most hopeful and usually the most effective service of others. It produces the saint and the reformer. Both have faith in God. Both are idealists. The reformer sees the better order of society in contrast with the actual order. He en- ters into God's thought, and labors with undaunted faith for social regeneration. The saint sees the better character for himself. He also enters into God's thought and labors with serene faith for personal regeneration. Yet both are striving after the same thing. The reformer desires better per- sons in society, and is himself becoming a better person, is becoming a saint, a holy, whole, healthy, complete character. The saint cannot become per- fect in isolation. As he realizes the standard of worth, he desires it for others and is impelled to impart it to others. The reformer becomes a saint. The saint becomes a reformer. They only stand in different points of view. Without the inspiration of faith, it may well be doubted whether either of these types appears. VIII It has been remarked above that there has never been a community for several generations irreli- HISTORICALLY TOGETHER 213 gious, that periods of unbelief have been periods of immorality, and have soon been followed by revival of religion which has also been the revival of morality, a revival which has been happily com- pared to the reappearance of verdure on burnt land. This fact, that religion and morality are always found together, is most significant for their essen- tial relation. In the earliest times, social and legal usages rested on religion. The family, worship- ing the same house-gods, is probably the first reli- gious community. Paternal authority was based on the priesthood of the father, who performed the religious rites. Property was hereditary, because the continuous family worshiped the same house- divinity. This was the unifying bond of the fam- ily, and strengthened mutual obligations of service and love. Piety first meant reverence for the fa- ther. The hero of Virgil's .SDneid is always called plus jffineas, on account of his devotion to his father. So the city was a community having the same deities and sacrifices. Kings were priests. Keligion regulated peace and war, courts of justice, festivals and games. Laws were believed to have been revealed. Even savage tribes are united into a society for protection and mutual service under a " totem," or divinity. In modern times religion is regarded as the conservator of morality, and the State either supports directly, or recognizes and protects churches and worship. /Religion and morality have reacted on each other. When religion has hardened into formal- ism and the arbitrary authority of priests, while morality has widened in the relations of business, 214 MORALITY AND RELIGION of government, and of society, a certain independ- ence and even antagonism has resulted. But sooner or later, the broader morality has demanded a reform of religion, to make it humane. Jesus exposed the emptiness of Pharisaism by showing its immorality, and restored the true religion, which is humanitarian. He told the formalists, who nhide the Sabbath an end in itself rather than a means for the good of man, and who held aloof from publicans and sinners, to go and learn the meaning of the ancient prophet's message : " Thus saith the Lord ; I desire mercy, and not sacrifice." That is what God says, and always has said. Man says : " Offer sacrifices, perform ablutions, fast oft, pay tithes." God says : " I desire mercy ; " " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." When the prophet thundered, " Thus saith the Lord," he did not mean that God had spoken audibly such and such words in his ear. He meant : man says this and that, says penance, fasting, class-contempt, race-contempt, robbery, and even murder ; but God says: mercy, truth, righteousness, charity, obedi- ence, reverence ; thus saith the Lord. To-day we hear much of social Christianity. Nowhere is there keener criticism on those who seek only their own salvation than in the Christian pulpit and press. The gospel of to-day is the gospel of the kingdom. It is seen that belief in the fatherhood of God means belief in the brotherhood of man. This res- toration of religion to its humaneness is perhaps due, in part, to assertion of rights in society, to the socialistic spirit, and to the waning influence of the church over certain classes who regard it as an RELIGION INSPIRES MORALITY 215 exclusive and other-world institution. Thus mo- rality and religion act and react on each other. IX (Religion is not only implied in morality, but is the inspiration of morality.) Failure to realize the moral ideal creates the need of religion to bring moral law to effect. Power to attain the good does not correspond to the knowledge of it and the recognized obligation of it. There is not merely the failure to realize in early stages what is possi- ble only in later stages. There is failure at any given stage to realize what is appropriate to that stage. This is universal testimony. Men know more than they practice. Macaulay, in homely contrast, says : " For our own part, if we are forced to make our choice between the first shoemaker and the author of the three books on Anger, we pronounce for the shoemaker. It may be worse to be angry than to be wet. But shoes have kept millions from being wet, and we doubt whether Seneca ever kept anybody from being angry." Is iff not, indeed, Seneca who is reported to have said, " Ah, if some one would but stretch out a hand ! " Paul called himself a wretched man as he ex- claimed, "The good that I would, I do not, and the evil that I would not, I do." Transgression, failure, degeneration have reduced moral power. Christianity assumes knowledge of right and wrong. It claims no distinction in that respect. What it does is to bring the love and truth of God to sinful man under the great transforming power of self-sacrifice in Jesus Christ. " I came not 216 MORALITY AND RELIGION to condemn the world," said Jesus (it was con- demned, self-condemned, already), " but to save the world." With a tone of triumph some have said that the moral precepts of Christianity can be matched in other codes and religions, as if Chris- tianity was thereby proved to have no transcendent claim. But that is to miss the meaning of the gospel, which takes it for granted that men know the right. Christianity gives moral power rather than moral knowledge. By its lofty ideal it does, indeed, reveal man to himself, but its object is to restore man to his true self. Christ is the power of God as well as the wisdom of God. In the chapters on personal and social regeneration I endeavor to elucidate this characteristic of Chris- tianity. x Morality implies immortality. Although belief in immortality is not strictly a religious belief, since it signifies merely the continued existence of man, yet religion, which binds man to God, is so identified with immortality, that the belief in life after death belongs with the relation of morality and religion. The moral ideal is an ideal of per- fection. But perfection is not attained in this life. The conditions are not satisfied by the expectation of perfection in some remote generation, for the individual is conscious of possibilities of comple- tion for himself. He has capabilities of knowledge, culture, refinement, purity, which threescore years and ten cannot satisfy. Long before middle life is reached, one knows that he must relinquish at- tainments which, so far as capacity and interest MORALITY AND IMMORTALITY 217 are concerned, he might possess. A famous Greek scholar lamented on his death-bed that he had not confined himself to the particle. The individual only needs time. Undying belief in the triumph of righteousness, a belief grounded in faith in God, with whom man works, involves the continued ex- istence of men, to see and share that for which they have labored. The moral ideal, which is God's thought perceived by man, means the eter- nal life in which alone , the ideal can be realized. Immortality is as closely related to morality as to religion. Summarily, then, morality implies and depends on religion. The moral ideal, complete in perfec- tion and absolute in imperative, is the idea of God for humanity. Seeing the ideal, man recognizes God's thought and purpose. The idea of an end, or of ends, in nature, by which the evolution of nature is determined, implies a thought precedent, which the development of nature is realizing. The perception of an ideal of personality and society implies a thought precedent, which the develop- ment of humanity is realizing. The philosophy of history is recognition of a divine purpose. God allows us to see the end that we may with intel- ligence and hope attain it. The Bible is full of such disclosures in its representations of the king- dom of God and of heaven. It takes up the an- cient call, respice finem. Faith sees afar off. In God's light it sees light, and moves on confidently towards the goal in the path which shineth more and more unto the perfect day. CHAPTER IX THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL THE question is sometimes asked whether the term " Christian Ethics " can be employed with pro- priety. It is said that there cannot be different kinds of morality. The notion that it varies with place and time is abandoned. The faculties of man and the organism of society determine rights and duties, and therefore the principles and the sanctions of morality are everywhere and always the same. If the ethics of Christianity corresponds to the nature of man in society, then the term " Christian ethics " is tautological, and the super- fluous adjective may as well be dropped. And if the ethics of Christianity does not correspond to the nature of man in society, then the system is false or imperfect, and claims attention only for purposes of criticism. As well speak of Christian mathematics or Christian logic as of Christian ethics. The criticism is well taken as against the assumption that there is any contradiction between natural and Christian ethics. The morality of the perfect society can be of only one kind. But in two respects there are reasons for the recognition of Christian ethics. One reason is that morality is an evolution which has had historical stages. Both the apprehension and the practice of duty have been progressive. There have accordingly CHRISTIAN ETHICS 219 been successive systems of ethics, embodying more or less truth. Among these the moral precepts of Christianity have an historical place. As there is a propriety and necessity in speaking of Grecian, Buddhistic, or Confucian ethics, which are well- defined and distinctive systems, there is equal propriety in speaking of Christian ethics. When these systems are brought into comparison, the his- torical names cannot be avoided. The other rea- son for the use of the term is that morality has to do with ideals as well as with phenomena, and that ideals may have a partial or a complete recognition. The inquiry concerning any system pertains to its correspondence with the ideal. This inquiry is necessarily made concerning the ethics of Chris- tianity. The conclusion that there is a close and complete correspondence with the true ideal, and the universal acceptance of that conclusion, would justify the identification of Christian with natu- ral ethics. All imperfect systems might then be disregarded, except as having historical, or rather, antiquarian interest, and the term " Christian ethics " would be considered tautological. But at present, only those who are certain that the moral precepts of Jesus are absolute and universal can dispense with or criticise the designation of those teachings as Christian. The evolutionist, even the Christian evolutionist, is the last one to object to the characterization. The same criticism could be brought with as much and as little force against " Christian theology," or even " the Christian re- ligion," on the ground that the true theology and the true religion are Christian. The objection, 220 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL then, is, on the one hand, hypercriticism, but on the other hand a tribute to the loftiness and truth of the ethics of Christianity. The comprehensive treatment of the evolution of morality would include examination of the princi- pal systems of ethics which have been formulated and have had extensive influence, especially the Buddhistic, the Grecian, and the Jewish. But the prolonged account which would be necessary would retard rather than promote the progress of our dis- cussion, and I shall content myself with such inci- dental comparisons as the consideration of Christian ethics may suggest. We proceed, then, to note the distinctive characteristics of the moral precepts and principles of Christianity. A marked distinction, which will appear at every point, and which is often noted in expressed contrast with the Judaism it superseded, is the dis- placement of rules by principles. In place of a code of morals, it presents a philosophy of mo- rality. The difference is like that between a photo- graph and a portrait, which are indeed pictures of the same face, yet the photograph represents a single moment and the portrait represents the char- acteristic man at all moments ; or like the differ- ence between learning anything, as a geometrical theorem or a piece of music, by rote, and master- ing the principles of mathematical relations or of harmony which are expressed in particular propo- sitions or compositions. It was a favorite method of Jesus to indicate the single principle from which PERSONAL AND SOCIAL 221 numerous rules proceed ; such as, " The Sabbath was made for man," and, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." His greatest apostle enu- merated specific commandments to show that all of them fulfill one law, a law which implies that he who loves his neighbor will work him no ill, and will therefore have no need to post up particular prohibitions. As compared with Judaism there was transition from legalism to principles. A sim- ilar contrast could be made in respect to Buddhism with its acts, virtues, and graces, catalogued in numbers reaching into the thirties and forties. Christianity enjoins many of the same duties, but is the morality of reason and freedom in contrast with the morality of rules. This characteristic ex- cellence of Christian ethics gives it a claim, at the outset, to be considered superior to all other systems. II The Christian ideal, like every other, is both personal and social. It presents the ideal of a person and the ideal of a society. Unlike every other, however, it presents the two in right propor- tion. In other systems and codes, either the per- sonal or the social has preponderated unduly. Previous to the time of Jesus, the corporate life dominated. The family, the kin, the clan, the tribe, the State, were controlling. At some subse- quent periods, but in disregard of Christianity, there has been within Christendom excessive in- dividualism, as in the French Revolution, when liberty and equality left less than one third to fraternity, and liberty did not hesitate to defraud 222 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL equality. It is considered an abuse, or at least a misapprehension of Christianity, for the Roman Catholic branch of the church to exalt the organi- zation above the individual. On the other hand, it is not according to Christianity for the Protest- ant branches of the church to exalt the freedom and final salvation of the individual above the wel- fare of society, which is the kingdom coming on earth. But the ideal of Jesus was both personal and social, and was both in perfect harmony. To revert to a figure already employed, the Christian ideal is not a circle with the individual at the centre, nor a circle with society at the centre, but an ellipse swept around the personal and social foci. We may, however, for convenience of treat- ment, distinguish the two phases of the Christian ideal and consider them in successive chapters, but remembering always that there is no separation in fact. in In the personal ideal of Christianity the first characteristic to be noted is the individualism it- self. The person stands forth, not to be subordi- nated to any grouping of community, class, or race, but having his own intrinsic, inalienable, and eter- nal worth. This absolute value of the individual is expressed in religious language by calling him a child of God. He is more than a product of nature ; he is more than a member of the species, although 'he is both. He is a son of God, and therefore is not the sport of nature, nor the tool of other men. On the negative side this individualism is eman- INDIVIDUALISM 223 cipation. There is emancipation from those na- tional barriers which give adventitious importance or disadvantage, from slavery, from class and caste, from inferior privilege of sex. Distinctions be- tween Jew and Greek sink into insignificance in comparison with the worth of the soul. Jews might be cast off, and foreigners from any land, east, west, north, or south, might sit down in the kingdom of God. The slave was not a chattel, but a soul. The aristocracy of scribes and Phari- sees had, as such, no consideration in the regard of Jesus above the ignoble publicans. His regard for woman, even for debased woman, was her eman- cipation. Every foreigner, slave, publican, woman was recovered to freedom and privilege as a child of God, having immortal worth. What was made real by the teaching and action of Jesus was epit- omized by Paul in his famous declaration of the independent worth of souls : " There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female, for ye are all one in Christ Jesus ; " an assertion which in principle is a commonplace now, but which was then a start- ling and revolutionary affirmation. The higher value of worth swept away all lower and artificial distinctions. This emancipation, so clearly de- manded long before it was realized, is the release of the individual from the oppression and injus- tice imposed by the corporate life. It has been secured through the Christian centuries in grow- ing freedom of belief, thought, and speech, as well as of action. Christian individualism doomed slavery, doomed caste, doomed the subjection of Of 224 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL woman, doomed civil and religious disabilities. Hegel considers the widening of liberty the pro- gress of history. " The history of the world," he says, " is progress in the consciousness of liberty." He explains his meaning by saying that the Orien- tals knew one man was free, the despot ; the Greeks knew some men were free, namely, the Greeks, while the rest of mankind were slaves or barba- rians ; but that we know all men are free, that man as man is free, and that it is our duty to confer freedom on every circle of society. This is the Christian ideal of man. The liberty we cherish is largely due to Christ's thought and treatment of men, and to the universality of his religion. The Reformation, in its doctrine of personal justification by faith and its declaration of freedom from the domination of priesthood and church, was a reassertion of primitive Christianity. Emancipation, however, is only a release, and does not, in itself, complete the personal ideal. Indeed, man emancipated all the more needs a positive ideal. To relax or remove the external authority of the community makes it all the more necessary to provide the ideal and the motive power of his self-realization. Christianity sets the individual free from externalities and oppressions that he may assert himself and realize his true character, or, rather, it is by such realization only that he can hope to be emancipated from false and unjust re- strictions. IV Positively, then, Christianity, in its every teach- ing, doctrine, and assumption, asserts the worth of THE WORTH OF THE PERSON 225 the individual. What a call was that to the an- cient world : " What shall a man give in exchange for his soul," for his own true life ? A soul out- weighs the world. " What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? " Moral and spiritual laws apply to all individuals. No exceptions are made. " Whosoever " designates every man and woman and child. " Whosoever" goes down through all the strata of society, out among all the nations, up to all the mighty and noble. " Whosoever would save his life shall lose it, and whosoever loseth his life shall find it." It makes no difference whether he is a master or a bondservant. "Every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted." It makes no difference whether he is a Pharisee or a publican. Every one can come under the laws of moral character. Every one, be he high or low, must come under those laws. The narratives single out individuals from all classes and conditions and bring them separately before Jesus. He addresses to each of them his teaching of the worth of the soul and of the attain- ment of its worth. Nicodemus a teacher, Nathan- iel a guileless Israelite, a woman of despised Sa- maria, a rich ruler, Zaccheus the publican, Simon the Pharisee, the fallen woman who had entered Simon's house, a restored paralytic, the impetuous Peter, are drawn, each by himself alone, into con- versation with Jesus. The teacher shows 110 defer- ence to rank and no contempt for lowly station, but does respect every person for his own worth, and so awakens self-respect. His fondness for per- 226 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL sonal conversation was like that of Socrates, but the Grecian sage seldom talked with any but those of his own station, the free and educated youths of Athens. The wonder of the disciples of Jesus when they found him absorbed in conversation with the Samaritan woman, the surprise of the Pharisees that he sat at table with publicans, were due rather to the national and social separation of those persons than to their moral debasement or to the fear of contamination. He emphasized the value of the individual in three parables, which are grouped together because each discriminates one from a number. One sheep out of a hundred, one coin out of ten, mean that the individual is not lost sight of in the multitude. No matter how many or how few there are, each has his own value, and if lost must be found. One son out of two means that God loves a man as much as if he had only two sons, and that man were one of the two. One of a hundred, one of ten, one of two ; it makes no difference. Each is himself in his own worth, even if he has strayed away, or is poor, wretched, and wicked. The regard of Jesus for every individual was in view of what each might be. He saw the ideal in the actual, and saw in every person the possibility of the ideal. The ideal of personal worth was clearly pre- sented in the character of Jesus himself. He not only recognized and emphasized the worth of every individual, but set forth the ideal in his own per- son. In one respect there is nothing distinctive THE CHARACTER OF JESUS 227 in this. Every teacher has the same ideal for him- self that he sets before others. But every other teacher admits that he has not attained it. Jesus embodied every precept he enunciated, and em- bodied it perfectly. He was not one who was strug- gling up painfully and with only partial success towards an ever-receding ideal. All that he taught he was, and all that he was he taught. The mar- vel and the power of the life of Jesus is his perfec- tion, the ideal made real. He did not say, " I seek the truth and the life," but, " I am the truth and the life." Here is the first and chiefest distinction of the personal ideal of Christian ethics. The ideal was realized in the person who gave it to the world. No act, or word, or thought, or motive conflicted with his own perfection. His holiness was objecti- fied as obedience to the will of his Father, who is holy. That good and loving will he never tra- versed and never questioned. He knew that he was in complete harmony with his Father's will. His fidelity was constant and complete. Here is the significance of his temptation. No easy success, no personal satisfaction, no suffering, no martyr- dom, could swerve him from holiness of character and obedience to his Father's will. Others have had a measure of faithfulness, but in him it was perfect and entire, wanting nothing. His perfec- tion has been described in various ways, all of which show the symmetry of his character. Ap- parent opposites are united; compassion and in- dignation, gentleness and strength, freedom and obedience, contemplation and action, repose and energy, calmness and zeal, sorrow and joy. All 228 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL his character went into each quality. There was always appropriateness of act and word to the occa- sion. No virtue was in excess or disproportion. No good trait slid off into its counterfeits. The delicate balance was never disturbed. Criticisms have indeed been pointed at some fancied lack or excess in the character of Jesus, but have not been regarded as well taken. If he was angry it is seen that his anger was justifiable, and was more virtu- ous than an easy toleration. If he was compassion- ate to notorious sinners, it is seen that it was a reclaiming compassion, and that the pity of purity is holier than the condemnation of contempt. The powerlessness of criticism to discover flaws in the symmetry and harmony of Jesus' character has given certainty to the agreeing opinion that he is the greatest of the holy and the holiest of the great. The ideal is set forth in a real person. It is not all or partly in theory ; it is not all or partly in the future as a hope ; it has been embodied, incar- nated in an actual personality. An ideal character is indeed perceived without the knowledge of Jesus. Its qualities are suggested by various individuals, and are combined in an imaginary character, as we have already seen. It is known that the ideal is of a person, of a person in society, is of absolute worth as an end, not a means, is the union of worth and happiness, and that the ideal is partly realized. I suppose we could not construct any kind of an ideal if there were no virtue realized in life. But the ideal is incomplete. It lacks content. In the life of Christ all the conditions are realized in his complete, symmetrical, and perfect character. THE LAW OF LOVE 229 When we put the best ideal we can form by the side of the historical Jesus, its every truthful feature is reproduced in him. Yet he, the actual person, transcends it. In fact, the ideals we can frame are derived in large part from him. We become aware of this derivation when we place the ideals of previous times, and of peoples who have been ignorant of Jesus, beside his character. Then we are struck by omissions and defects of teaching, and still more impressed by the inferiority, im- perfection, and one-sidedness of the teachers them- selves. VI Although the ideal is personal, it is not an ideal of the person in isolation. The perfection of the individual is found in right relation to others. The law of love dominates the person. It domi- nated Jesus. The ideal he presents is of a person who loves others according to their need. Their need is measured by their worth. The service of love is determined, not by affinities, or standing, or reputation, but by need and worth. It is not enough to do good to those who do good to us. We should do good to those who need what we can impart. Self-impartation is a characteristic of the ideal character. Jesus was so characterized in the highest degree. He expressed it as a law of life in the words, " The Son of man came, not to be ministered unto, but to minister." There had been some perception of this law in Judaism. The pre- cept, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," was to be found in the books of Moses. But the ap- plication had been restricted chiefly to the nation. 230 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL The parable of the good Samaritan gave a new definition of neighborhood. The law obtained in the family amongst all nations, but mutual services were determined and limited by incomplete ideals of character. Here and there, among the ancients, an individual perceived the law, and on occasions practised it, but usually under local or class restric- tions, and according to defective standards. Jesus made it a central and controlling law of his own life, and of all true life. He poured out the wealth of his character in a ministration which was not the emptying but the impartation of self. What- ever greatness one has is the measure, not of exac- tion, but of service. He who is great should serve, because he who is great can serve. And greatness is attained by service. One becomes greater him- self by serving others according to their need and worth. " Whosoever would become great among you, shall be your minister." A great moral nature puts itself into the pain and distress which selfish- ness brings upon others, and finds its own peace and power in such sympathy. Something like this is the open secret of Christ's life. He realized the law of sacrifice perfectly, and taught it as plainly as it could be taught in the paradoxes of the Beati- tudes, in the inculcation of meekness, non-resist- ance, and forgiveness of injuries. He thus reversed customary standards, and said that he did. Those maxims which some declare impracticable, such as, " If any man take away thy coat let him have thy cloke also ; " " Whosoever smiteth thee on thy right cheek turn to him the other also," mean disregard of the moralities of self-protection and THE LAW OF LOVE 231 of exact justice under the higher law of serving men according to their need. " Ke verse all that," he seems to say, and to say it with the emphasis of hyperbole, " and do good to the evil and the un- thankful. Lose your life and you will save it. Do not protect yourself, and avenge yourself, and profit yourself ; do not save your life by sparing it in avoidance of burdens and pains, but give it lavishly away in the service and sympathy which others need." This is the strain that runs through the teaching of Jesus. The teaching is understood in the light of his life. Some of it would be unin- telligible if we did not know the sacrificial life of Jesus in its power and beauty. The life was the light of men. Socrates said that men lack know- ledge only, that if their ignorance is dispelled they will live aright. But light proceeds from life, not life from light, unless, at least, light is reflected from a life. Because the perfect character imparts itself at c0st of suffering, the cross is the best symbol or that which Jesus personified. The cross is complete self-giving. The service of others ac- cording to their need, in teaching, in sympathy, in self-impartation, is realized only in society and brings into view the social ideal, but it is an essen- tial element in the personal ideal of perfection. The personal ideal according to Christianity in- cludes happiness. Jesus chose a word suggestive of internal rather than external sources of happi- ness, the word " blessedness." The child of God is blessed. He alone is blessed. He may suffer, but beneath the suffering is a deep joy. Jesus prom- ised peace to his disciples, and described it by 232 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL reference to himself, " My peace give I unto you." He combined in himself both the elements of good- ness, perfection and happiness. By example and precept he presented the personal ideal which com- bines them, and presented it in such ways that men could adopt it. Such is the ideal of character given to the world in the life and teachings of Jesus. It is an ideal as distinctive as Stoic endurance or Hebrew obe- dience to law. It is not an ideal of self-renuncia- tion alone, but of self-renunciation of the lower in order to self-realization in the higher values of life. It was dimly perceived in Buddhistic asceticism, which, however, was negative as deprivation. It was clearly recognized and nobly lived by Jesus in that self-denial which loses itself in finding another. The child of God, who, as such, has absolute worth, is the brother of every other child of God, and seeks the other's worth, as he does his own, by the sacrifice of self-impartation. In seeking an- other's worth he best secures his own. It is the true principle of morality, and so was destined to supersede all ascetic, legal, and negative types of morality, while it includes all their truth. VII This ideal of goodness contained implicitly what is explicitly and repeatedly taught by Jesus. The child of God having absolute worth has eternal life. Jesus did not attempt to prove immortality. He assumed and constantly declared it. If man is in union with God he can never die. To believe in Christ is to be in such union, for it is to have the ETERNAL LIFE 233 ideal character which is in harmony with the char- acter and therefore with the will of God. The only approach to an argument is the reply Jesus made to the question of the Sadducees, who did not believe in personal immortality. The word Moses heard from the burning bush is enough : " I am the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob." The patriarchs were in personal union with God and had their life in him. A union which is moral and spiritual cannot be destroyed by physical dis- solution. Such a union implies that man is not merely a link in the chain of physical nature, but has reason by which he knows God, the absolute reason, and is a spirit made in the image of God, who is a spirit. As reason and spirit it may be doubted whether man, even if perverse and unreal- ized morally, can cease to exist with the death of the body. But he who realizes his character as a child of God, in knowledge of his Father's will and in obedience to it, has eternal life, for he cannot be plucked out of the Father's hand. Moral and spiritual union with God is not temporary, but eternal. The God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob is the God of persons. A person is not a ma- terial phenomenon. He knows God and is known of him. He loves God and is loved by him. He has satisfaction in God and God has satisfaction in him. God is not the God of the dead, but of the living. The persons he loves are not creatures who appear and disappear, who pass into nothing- ness, who die, of whom he is bereaved, but persons who live, who, as his children, have absolute and undying worth. All arguments for immortality 234 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL are eventually reduced to this one argument of kinship with God. The argument that man in his knowledge of before and after, of the relation of separate phenomena, of cause and of final cause, is a being who transcends physical nature, means that man has reason corresponding to the reason which makes things the expression of thought, which makes the world a cosmos and not a chaos, and which is God the supreme Reason. The argu- ment from man's moral nature, from his sense of obligation, from the ideal of perfection which de- cades of earthly life cannot complete, means a moral nature derived from and akin to the absolute holiness of God. The argument from the moral order of the world means the personal participation of those who perceive and desire it, and not merely the participation of a future generation which in its turn will pass away, because it is a divine order realized in, as well as through, the persons who consciously promote it. This moral order, as we shall see later, is the kingdom of God, which is of the present as well as of the future, which every child of God enters, and in which he ever remains. All the reasons, I say, that we have for believing in immortality, are based on the kinship of man with God. God the person and man the person in relation as persons that is all of it. God and Abraham know each other ; therefore Abraham is immortal. Dr. Dorner puts it concisely and con- clusively in the heading of a chapter : " Destined for religion, man is destined for immortality.'* This is fundamental and indispensable for ethics. It signifies the absoluteness of morality. It signi* ETERNAL LIFE 235 fies that the ideal of perfection is not illusory, but that it is to be realized. It signifies the value of the individual in and of himself as a distinct and separate person, as a soul having eternal life, and not merely as an infinitesimal unit, merged and sub- merged in a great impersonal social organism. Christianity, then, by its doctrine of eternal life, is the true ethics, for it recognizes the absolute worth of personality. This, which has been made a reproach against Christianity, is really its strength and glory. Practicality says that the gospel in seek- ing the future salvation of the individual neglects his present welfare and neglects the welfare of society. But the gospel by procuring the everlasting salva- tion of the individual best advances his welfare and the social well-being, for it thus declares the worth, the absolute worth of every individual. Absolute worth is the very core of the doctrine of eternal life. Even when the representations of a future life are physical rather than spiritual, and when salvation is thought of chiefly as rescue from remote dangers, yet the belief that man is immor- tal is made distinct, and this is belief in his imper- ishable worth. To take time as the measure of salvation, so that unending duration is the princi- pal thing, is, to be sure, to estimate salvation im- properly. But even so there is recognition of the absolute undying worth of the soul. To picture heaven as consisting in desirable outward condi- tions is, undoubtedly, to take a low view of man's destiny. But it is not forgotten that, in some sense, worth of character is the indispensable con- dition of gaining heaven. Besides, whatever may 236 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL have been true in the past, salvation is now almost invariably represented as a spiritual character which, outlasts death rather than as a state of material delights. The Christian does not look forward to a Mohammedan heaven. Dante's rep- resentations of the life beyond are permanent in literature because they match outward conditions with inner character. The point to be made is that Christianity raises the estimate of man's needs far above his outward circumstances and his mere hap- piness. It makes man realize that he is not the creature of a day, but has a life which is immortal. It tells man that he has a soul. Although that word " soul " is often used vaguely, it is well that it has not been relinquished, for it is always un- derstood, even by the illiterate, to mean that man has spiritual and immortal worth. The philoso- pher Lotze found no better word to employ as an exact designation of the rational and spiritual fac- ulties of man. At the very first, when the op- pressed slave was pointed to the future freedom of heaven, the effect was more than the removal of discontent. The worth of the slave as a man with a soul was emphasized, a soul for which Christ died, and which would attain immortality. This belief in the immortal worth of every human being was the principal cause which reduced infanticide, abortion, and suicide in the early centuries of the Christian era. The belief that those who died unbaptized were exposed to eternal damnation invested infanticide with peculiar horror. But re- gard for the sanctity of human life is due in large part to the Christian belief in immortality. Mr. THE IDEAL PERFECT AND FINAL 237 Lecky says : " This minute and scrupulous care for human life and human virtue in the humblest forms, in the slave, the gladiator, the savage, or the infant, was indeed wholly foreign to the genius of Paganism. It was produced by the Christian doctrine of the inestimable value of each immortal soul. It is the distinguishing and transcendent characteristic of every society into which the spirit of Christianity has passed." l The gospel has al- ways made men feel their superiority, as persons who are children of God and heirs of immortality, to the accidental circumstances of the present life, so that, at times, they have had supreme and ex- cessive disregard for the relations of society. But at all events, Christianity, by its doctrine of ever- lasting life, brings the worth and perfection of man to their highest conception, and so places ethics on the true basis. It may be doubted whether Chris- tianity is strengthened by the tendency of its preachers to leave out of view eternal destiny, and to magnify the importance of the present. Men can best be made mindful of their moral and spir- itual worth by frequent thought of the immortality which Christ lighted up. VIII The Christian ideal of personal character ia therefore to be regarded as perfect in kind and not to be superseded by another type. Legal morality is a type which produces some virtues. Ascetic morality is a type which suppresses some vices. But the Christian type of love to God and 1 History of European Morals, vol. ii., p. 34. 238 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL love to man is the perfect and final type. Ideals of goodness may be compared with forms of gov- ernment. There is the despotic form, which is absolute monarchy, which has a certain strength of security while it lasts, but which gives little freedom to the individual. There is the form which combines monarchy with parliamentary rule, which has its advantages, but which is in a state of constant transition through continual reduction of royal power. There is the republican form, in which the people elect all their rulers, a form which is exposed to the dangers of shifting popu- lar opinion, yet which is in principle the perfect and final form. In the comparison we say that self-government is the perfect form and that it will not be superseded by a better form, nor re- vert to any of the other forms. It will correct its own errors. A similar conclusion is reached in respect to types of civilization, of education, and of art. The Christian character is, in kind, the perfect type. It supersedes all others but can be superseded by none because it seeks to realize the perfect ideal through the principle of love. IX A characteristic equally significant with perfec- tion of type is the present possession of this kind of character. Complete realization lies in the future, but the type itself, in the principle and power of it, is already actual. Because the type now exists its complete attainment is to be ex- pected. I regard this as one of the most impor- tant considerations for Christian ethics, as well as firm* %^(r * ^ A PRESENT REALITY 239 one of the most unique features of the Christian religion. It explains and combines the statements of Scripture that man is to be saved in the future and yet is saved in the present ; that he will have and that he now has eternal life. By supreme choice one goes over from other types of virtue, as well as from immorality, to the Christian type of love. He abandons the legalism of rules for the freedom and spontaneity of love, as was the case when the Jew became a Christian. He abandons the repressions of asceticism for the life of self- sacrificing service, which, in the absorbing pursuit of the higher, leaves no room nor interest for the lower, on the principle that he who walks in the Spirit does not fulfill the lusts of the flesh, a prin- ciple expressed in Dr. Chalmers's famous sermon on The Expulsive Power of a New Affection. This type, which in kind is perfect, is in possession and is controlling as soon as it is intelligently preferred and freely adopted. It is the working principle from the outset. The character exists and per- petually reproduces itself in nearer approximation to the standard. This is precisely the truth of self-realization. Self realizes self. There must be the true self in type and choice in order that there may be the true self in perfect degree. The Christian, finally produced, untarnished and sym- metrical, is the Christian continually reproduced. There must be the Christian to begin with that there may be the Christian to end with. The kind of life must be incipient in order that there may be that kind of life complete and beautiful. All the result, the advantage, the privilege are con- 240 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL tained in the initial choice which constitutes the new character. This fact finds repeated expres- sion in the New Testament. One who receives Christ is as truly a child of God the instant he turns from a self-centred to a God-centred life, as he is when he attains the glory of heaven and is clad in white robes before the throne of God. There is now no condemnation. Now are we the sons of God. The believer has eternal life now. He has passed from death unto life. Eternal life is not of the future only, but also of the present. It is future because it is present. By faith which ventures out on Christ, there is a new status which involves all that will be progressively evolved. Paul puts it in bold and sweeping statement : " If any man be in Christ, he is a new creation ; old things are passed away, behold, all things afe become new." The selfish and lower life is old because it is full of the elements of decay. The life of faith and love is new because it has the power of recuperation, of growth, of progress. Salvation is therefore represented, sometimes as future, sometimes as present. " Now is our salva- tion nearer than when we believed," that is, the complete salvation of the future. " Work out your own salvation," that is, you have salvation already ; now, work it out to its issues. The writer did not mean that by working tremendously salvation will finally be grasped, but, let the possessed salvation energize and work till its appropriate transforma- tions and fruitage are complete. This radical and instantaneous change of char- acter is sometimes made a reproach against Chris- A PRESENT REALITY 241 tianity, but is really one of its most important and profound principles. The criticism is made that the gospel encourages men with false hopes ; that it attributes to a word, a choice, an assent, an emo- tion, salvation and the approval of God; that it leads men who are still impure and imperfect to regard themselves as holy before they have had and without having the discipline which is the in- dispensable condition of right character. Salva- tion by faith, it is said, cannot take the place of salvation by character. The effect of such teach- ing is to make men indifferent to moral conduct, since salvation is not by works, but by faith. When the condition of eternal life is condensed into the words, " only believe," there is danger of immoral indulgence and excess, a danger which has too often been realized. Any principle is liable to abuse, and the principle of salvation by repentance has not escaped. But it is a true principle. Faith puts life under the law of love to God and love to man. One who is in that life is free from con- demnation. He is justified. He is treated as if he were righteous. He has the privileges of a son of God. Those privileges are not independent of character, but are conditioned on it. He is new- privileged because he is new-charactered. If men deceive themselves with the counterfeits of faith, with professions, assents, emotions, it does not fol- low that genuine faith is not a radical transforma- tion of character and the pledge of its perfection. The counterfeits are a tribute to the reality and potency of that faith which renews a man, which new-characters him. 242 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL The fact that the future is in the present has abundant illustration in inventions and discoveries. Edison experiments with some bits of carbon and electrified wires till he can scarcely see the little threads on which he is working. If a certain re- sult is gained, it is seen at once that old methods of lighting and communication must give way to new methods. The invention is instantly worth thousands of dollars before any useful application of it has actually been made. In such cases, a power is discovered which is seen to be capable of producing important results, and it is spoken of as if it had already produced them. As soon as the art of printing was invented, when as yet no books had been published, it might have been foretold that education would become general, that all parts of the globe would be brought into communica- tion, that the Bible would be an open book and the masses would be emancipated from the power of the priesthood. A volume which issued from the first press seems to us ill-favored enough with its coarse paper and clumsy letters, but on the title- page might have been printed, education, culture, political and religious freedom. Starting-points, epochs, are the points of chief importance. An intellectual awakening occurs. The youth who had been frivolous, fond of sports, a pleasure-seeker, all at once, by some book casually read, or under the inspiration of a teacher, is aroused mentally, and finds himself in a new world. His intellec- tual character is changed and he is already a scholar before actual attainments have been made. When, in time of war, one enlists in the army, A PRESENT REALITY 243 he is a soldier, he is honored for his patriotism, and has a new character, which, under discipline, will make him a soldier indeed. The character of faith and love is a present reality having potency and promise. Future results are seen in the pres- ent, and are regarded as already attained. There- fore there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth. To be sure, from heaven's point of view, he is still a sorry ob- ject. The hour may be far away before he attains perfection. But he is a changed man, a new man. It mattered not to the father that the prodigal son was in rags, gaunt, dirty, forlorn. He had turned about and come home to his father because he had come to himself. It is, then, one of the commanding ideas of Christianity that he who is in Christ is a new sort of man. The writers of the New Testament never lost the surprise of it. A man is not bound by the chains of past habit, but is set free at a stroke. It is not implied that nothing remains to be done ; but faith is a principle which works, which works by love, and is ever at work until the actual man becomes the ideal man. The power of Christianity resides in no small degree in this creation of the new type here and now. It has power because it is true to nature. It is like those differentiations which appear instantaneously and which produce new types. The power and truth of this idea would be still more clearly seen, if comparison should be made with the long and tedious pro- cess of the ascetic righteousness of Buddhism, with the passive endurance and unnatural calm of Stoi- 244 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL cisra, or with the legal prohibitions and require- ments of Judaism, a comparison which needs only to be suggested. x Another characteristic of the personal ideal of Christian ethics remains to be noticed. It proceeds from the individual to society rather than from society to the individual. The individual is the starting point. The individual is the goal or end. Christianity deals directly with individuals rather than with institutions and tendencies. It saves souls first and creates institutions afterwards and consequently. It singles out individuals one by one, and does not deal with them in the mass. It addresses each one in the second person and singu- lar number. Christ tasted death for every man. An apostle saysj " Christ loved me and gave him- self for me." Jesus turns thought away almost se- verely from others, saying, " What is that to thee ? follow thou me." Institutions are expressly de- clared to be for individuals, and individuals not to be for institutions. " The Sabbath was made for man and not man for the Sabbath." This method is practically reversed by some theories of the nat- ural development of society, which expect improve- ment though tendencies and movements, the spirit of the age, the Ze.it- Geist, an intellectual and moral atmosphere. A slowly improving social condition is to be the result, and the individual is but a means to this magnificent end. He is in the midst of a slow advance of which his own generation will witness only one stadium. One who is moving on a swift river looks forward to his destination which FROM PERSON TO SOCIETY 245 he in his own person will reach ; but if he is far up on a glacier the movement is so slow that personally he will get nowhere. His chief concern, therefore, is to make his hut comfortable and his stock of provisions ample during his lifetime on this frozen and nearly stationary river. Christianity secures the temporal and eternal worth of the individual. It undertakes to reach him and does reach him at every stage of social progress and in any state of civilization, or even of barbarism and savagery. It does not wait for him to be raised up by general influences of intelligence and culture to a higher level, and then upon that rising tide of progress to act merely as steersman of his boat to its destina- tion, avoiding collisions with other crafts, which, like his own, are borne along by great, silent, irre- sistible currents. Every ship freighted with the hopes and capabilities of a human personality can spread its sails to the winds of heaven and re- sist or traverse the currents of customary tendency. Christianity finds the individual in any land, in Africa, Japan, England, and renovates him so that a new type of character, yet everywhere essentially the same, appears the world over. One century need not wait for another which will be more advan- tageous. Paul did not require the conditions of the nineteenth or the twenty-ninth century in order to reach men with his gospel, nor did he believe that the world must wait one or two thousand years be- fore any appreciable results in moral progress would be visible. The church and kingdom of Christ were dear to him, nor did he overlook the mutual relations of members of the kingdom, but 246 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL PERSONAL in the new life of individuals the kingdom had al- ready come, for the eternal worth of persons was realized through their faith and love. The preach- ing of the gospel is with power because it is direct to individuals, appealing to conscience and aspira- tion. Even in unrefined forms it has this power. One who visits a congregation of working-people may be offended by the homespun illustrations and slang expressions of the preacher. It may seem as if religion is cheapened or caricatured. And yet the earnest speaker may have possession of, or rather be possessed by, a lofty ideal of life which can be made intelligible and impressive to such listeners, and in response to which many of them can be brought not only to rectitude, but to the gentleness and holiness of Christian life. The pulpit becomes ineffective when it discusses Chris- tianity in some general way, even if it be with forci- ble argument, telling illustration, and choice diction. The living gospel, in all ages and conditions of the world, addresses the individual with sanctions of divine authority, and thus, not waiting for the slow movements of social progress, raises him at once above the level of existing custom. Such is the personal ideal of Christian ethics. It is not an ideal of the person in separation from society, for his character is formed partly in social relations. But it is an ideal which, exalts person- ality. It has always signified the absolute worth of the individual, as having eternal life. It is pre- sented perfectly in the character of Jesus. Its central principle is love, which seeks the worth of every soul through service, and, if need be, through FROM PERSON TO SOCIETY 247 suffering. It is, in type, the perfect ideal, not to be superseded, and it is an ideal which, in kind and power, is the existing character. It corre- sponds with the essential elements of the moral ideal which have been indicated in an earlier chap- ter, and yet transcends them. The admission must doubtless be made that that ideal was derived in part from the Christian ideal. But the elements which are found in the ethics of those who had no knowledge of Jesus, as Aristotle and the Stoic philosophers, are reproduced in the precepts of Jesus, and also are surpassed. The person, however, is a person in society, and is always so regarded by Jesus. The Christian ideal, accordingly, is social as well as personal, and in the next chapter the social point of view is taken, that the ideal of Christianity may be recog- nized as perfect and final. CHAPTER X THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL THE social ideal, according to Christianity, is, as already observed, in true proportion with the personal ideal. In this chapter I consider only the characteristics of the social ideal which are peculiar to Christianity, and especially as they appear in the teachings of Jesus, leaving to the chapters on social regeneration the application of the Christian ideal to actual society. These char- acteristics are so familiar that it is not necessary to develop them at any length. The social ideal was usually set forth by Jesus under the figure of a kingdom, which he called the kingdom of God, and the kingdom of heaven. In the three narratives known as the Synoptic Gospels, attributed to Matthew, Mark, and Luke, the simile is frequently employed in beatitudes, parables, and didactic teaching, and appears in the prayer he taught his disciples. In the Fourth Gospel, attri- buted to John, there is less of the kingdom and more of the personal life, but the representation of the renovated society as a kingdom is not wanting. Nicodemus is told that one must be born again to enter into the kingdom of God. In answer to the question of Pilate Jesus spoke of his kingdom, and THE KINGDOM OF GOD 249 of himself as king. The inscription which Pilate caused to be placed upon the cross shows that Jesus had been constantly proclaiming the king- dom he expected to establish. In the other books of the New Testament, the church on earth and in heaven is the usual designation of the renovated society, although the kingdom is occasionally men- tioned, and Christ is called a king. The social ideal, under the figures of kingdom and church, is prominent and important in the teachings of Jesus and his apostles. It may be noticed at this point as well as any- where that this conception of a kingdom is thought by some at the present time to be the fundamental and dominant truth of Christianity. They main- tain that the gospel of Jesus is no less and no more than the gospel of the kingdom. Professor Julius Kaftan, of the University of Berlin, holds that the chief good, which is the object alike of ethics and religion, is the kingdom of God, and that every line of the gospel must be read in the light of that truth. This, in fact, is the central principle of the influential Ritschlian school of German theology, of which Professor Kaftan is the ablest represent- ative. A coterie of clergymen in the Western States of this country hold and promulgate, with some slight qualifications, the same philosophy of Christianity as the kingdom of God. These, and many others, consider this philosophy to be a revival of primitive Christianity, and especially a return to the teachings of Jesus. The pulpit, pro- claiming to-day with strong emphasis the gospel of society, makes large use of the figure of the king- 250 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL dom. Occasionally, this claim that the kingdom of God furnishes the comprehensive and exhaustive philosophy of Christianity is challenged. The Reverend James Kidd (not the author of " Social Evolution") maintains in his published lectures that, in the New Testament, the family, even more than the kingdom, is a characteristic representa- tion of the redeemed society. 1 I presume that the writers and teachers referred to would make no objection, since both family and kingdom are figures which represent social relations. The family suggests relations of affection in the father- hood of God and the brotherhood of men. The kingdom suggests righteousness in obedience to the divine government of society. It might be urged with considerable force that the family furnishes the better analogy, inasmuch as it is coeval with society, while the rule of kings is a mode of gov- ernment which did not always exist, which is not now universal, and which may entirely disappear. For my own part, I think this idea of the king- dom is just at present being overworked, especially in the claim that it is practically exhaustive of the truth of the gospel. Such emphasis of an import- ant truth illustrates the common tendency to swing from one extreme to the opposite extreme. This is a reaction, and a rather violent reaction, from the excessive individualism of personal salvation, just as the Reformation, with its doctrine of just- ification by faith, a doctrine which isolated the individual and brought him in his own solitary person alone before God, was a reaction from the 1 Morality and Religion: being the Kerr Lectures for 1893-94. THE KINGDOM OF GOD 251 corporate authority of the church. Now, while society and the individual are inseparable, society is only individuals in relation. The advance of society exalts and develops personality. Society is not the end, but the persons who compose society are the end. I have said more than once that the human curve is an ellipse swept around the two foci, society and the individual. But centring the chief good in society, or the kingdom, to which the individual is subordinate, converts the path of humanity (if the mathematical symbolism may be pursued) into an hyperbola, which comes from no- where and terminates in infinity, which is a grand and magnificent curve, but lacks definiteness and completion. The revival and over-emphasis of the idea of the kingdom is partly due, no doubt, to the socialistic theories which have captivated so many minds. It is an attempt to solve, by means of a simile, all the economic, social, and political prob- lems which perplex us. This revival, however, by impressing the truth that the gospel means more than the future salvation of the individual, may be of service in recovering one of the two great values of Christianity. The recovery of neglected truth is usually accomplished by over-valuation of it. Necessary modifications are sure to be made in due time. Perhaps those who magnify the idea of the kingdom would deny that they minimize the idea of personal salvation. My criticism, indeed, is directed to overemphasis of the kingdom. Kaf- tan cannot avoid recognition of a purely personal element in the chief good. He says : ' Besides subordination of one's own well-being to the well- 252 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL being of others, or say, of the community, that everywhere evokes moral approbation, it is also true that yielding, at least in some ways, to the sensuous impulse of the moment, is everywhere censured.' l Therefore inward mastery of our sen- suous impulses is an element of morality. This inward mastery is certainly personal rather than social. But, at all events, Jesus did present a so- cial ideal. He presented it in right proportion to the personal ideal. He presented it often under the figures of the kingdom of God and the king- dom of heaven. The characteristics of this ideal now come under consideration. That which has been indicated in the previous chapter concerning the personal ideal presented and exemplified by Jesus may be expected to preserve the right pro- portion of social and personal value. ii The idea of the kingdom is the idea of an organ- ization of society having certain characteristics and objects. The idea was not original with Jesus. He took it up from Jewish thought, to which it was a cherished expectation. Professor C. H. Toy says of it : " The conception of the kingdom of God is a marked characteristic of Jewish religious thought, perhaps its most distinctive peculiarity. It is the idea of a social organization in which the divine and human shall be perfectly blended, the social ideal being complete conformity to the divine will and complete interpenetration by the 1 The Truth of the Christian Religion, translated by George Ferries, B. D., vol. ii., p. 351. FULFILLMENT 253 divine guiding and moulding presence. . . . Else- where the main stress had been laid on conquest, government, literature, philosophy, or art ; and the theocratic idea, the feeling of the direct and com- plete dependence of the community on God, when it has been recognized, has played a secondary role. It is only in a few cases that the attempt to embody it in a historical form has been at all suc- cessful ; and among these it is to the Hebrew the- ocracy that the first rank in precision and practical efficacy must be assigned." l The theocracy, how- ever, was national. Only with application to Israel could it be said, " They shall be to me a people and I will be to them a God." The kingdom, although thus limited, was thought of, by some at least, as a spiritual kingdom. Not only would there be boun- tiful harvests with rich increase of wine and oil, but there would be equity, righteousness, peace, and justice to the needy and him that hath no helper. It is to be noted that the kingdom was not merely a human society held together by common interests and mutual services, but was a kingdom in the true sense, the union of the members consisting in allegiance to one and the same King, whose will was personal law to every Israelite. Their union lay, not in themselves, but in God, whose servants and subjects they were. Here already was a con- ception of the kingdom, different from that of a social organism as an end in itself, complete and self-inclosed. The members were united to each other because they were united to the same God, because they offered the same worship and obeyed 1 Judaism and Christianity, p. 303. 254 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL the same divine law. The prophets were not with- out the belief that other nations might share the privileges of the kingdom of God. The popular conception, however, was of a national kingdom. The popular conception, also, was material and political rather than spiritual. Jesus took up this familiar idea and spiritual- ized it. The external form and limit dropped away. The kingdom was to be universal, not na- tional ; spiritual, not political. Yes, he said, the kingdom of God is coming indeed, but not with pomp and observation. The haughty Pharisee, who fancied he would have a high place in the kingdom, had not even entered it ; indeed, he did not even see it, although it was amongst and within the men who were all about him. He was blind. Although he had two eyes, he had no vision of the kingdom which was already established. Yet any one who became as a little child was of and in the kingdom. That frequent declaration, " The king- dom of heaven is at hand," means that the kingdom so long expected has come at last. But it is not in any place, as when men say, " Lo here and lo there," out in the desert away from the haunts of men, nor in the city where men do congregate, nor even in the sacred city, whither the tribes go up. The kingdom of God is within you and among you. It is obvious, therefore, that Jesus did not introduce the idea of the kingdom as something new, nor in order to present a social in place of an individualistic ideal. He took a familiar concep- tion which had become empty, and filled it with moral and spiritual reality. He did not set up so- THE KINGDOM UNIVERSAL 255 ciety against individualism. There was no need of that, for the corporate life was already of more im- portance than the individual. He taught that the kingdom is a society of holy individuals, that men and women must be persons of a certain character in order to see the kingdom at all. But we are anticipating the explicit teaching of Jesus concern- ing the nature of the kingdom which he intro- duced. in A distinguishing characteristic of the kingdom is its extent. It is not limited by country or na- tion. Its terminal lines are not drawn anywhere inside humanity so that any class or people is ex- cluded. It is coextensive with humanity in all lands and all generations. It is a universal king- dom. This is a characteristic of the highest im- portance. Even the most highly civilized peoples drew a line which coincided with the nation, or at the very widest included only those nations which were confederated. Every restriction of extent falls away from the kingdom of God. Man as man is the subject of the kingdom. As Kaftan says : " A further extension of the circle is impossible ; the terminal point is unconditionally arrived at." l Declarations of universality were deeply impressed on the memory of the disciples, and by them re- peated, such as : " And they shall come from the east and from the west, and from the north, and from the south, and shall sit down in the king- dom of God ;" " The publicans and harlots go into the kingdom of God before you ; " "Go ye and 1 The Truth of the Christian Beligion, vol. ii., p. 368. 256 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL make disciples of the nations ; " " The field is the world." His frequent designation of himself as the Son of Man, rather than the son of Abraham, or the son of David, implied the universality of his kingdom ; a kingdom of man, of humanity. IV The social ideal of Christianity is as intensive in character as it is extensive in range. Its depth corresponds to its breadth. It is not an empty ideal. A favorite thought is fulfillment. It is filled full. It fulfills, or fills full, the partial ideals of law and prophecy. The content which fills the ideal is righteousness. " Seek ye first," said Jesus, " the kingdom of God and his righteousness." It is not material good, except as that is a condition of moral and spiritual good. Material goods amount only to food, drink, clothing, and shelter. Such goods the nations of the world seek after. God knows that men have need of such things. A man starving and freezing is on the way to death, and cannot even think of higher good. But health and physical comfort are not character any more than they are culture. A scholar must have food and clothing ; but they are not knowledge. The righteous man in the righteous society must have physical sustenance ; but it is not character. All grades of human value are attained in the ideal of the kingdom of God ; for the individual, satis- faction of body, mind, and spirit ; for society, the values of family, friendship, the State, the Church. The complete good of the kingdom is realized under the law of love ; true self-love, which seeks THE FORMS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS 257 the good of holy character, and true love of others, which seeks their worth and perfection. The righteousness which fulfills the ideal of a kingdom of persons having the true character was explained by Jesus in its three forms, which are contrasted with their counterfeits. Righteousness is of three kinds, or may be regarded from three points of view ; almsgiving, wjiich expresses rela- tion to others, prayer, which expresses relation to God, and fasting, which expresses one's relation to himself. Almsgiving and all service for others is to have sole reference to their good. Self-forgetfulness is to be so complete that the left hand is not to know what the right hand is doing. The counterfeit is a service which is rendered ostentatiously, with flourish of trumpets, to elicit admiration. Prayer is between the soul and God alone, in secrecy, with the door of the closet shut on the world, in communion with the perfect holiness and love. True prayer brings one into communication with the source of goodness. The child communes with the Father, breathes his name with hallowed, loving reverence, contemplates his kingdom and desires its coming, depends on him for bread and the supply of all recurring wants, asks that faults and sins may be forgiven, and that temptation henceforth may lose its power. In prayer he re- ceives light and life and love. The counterfeit is prayer which has no motive but to gain the rep- utation of piety, which is loud-spoken at street corners, and so is not prayer at all, but pure hypocrisy. 258 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL Fasting is self-culture. Negatively, it is absti- nence from all that hinders holiness, and therefore, it may be, from excess or richness of food which makes the body dull and gross, and also from im- pure thoughts, from foolish and malicious conver- sation, from greed of gain, from selfish ambitions. As self-culture proceeds in part by severe, heroic disciplines, fasting symbolizes the method. These disciplines, however, always have in view the true character to be cultivated. The counterfeit is that abstinence which advertises itself in studied negli- gence of the person, in ostentatious practice of an artificial regimen of food, in observance of days and seasons, when suspension of social entertainment is made a fashion. It is as if one should say : " I am unholy and need purifying ; behold my superior goodness in subjecting myself to the needed pro- cesses of cleansing." The true fasting is in secret. It is an affair of one's own. It is between him- self and God. He must determine for himself the points at which he needs repression, and not adapt his fasting to popular fashion. It may very well be, as we are creatures of periodicity, that a sea- son of fasting should be observed. But in that season every one should prescribe his own methods of self-culture, going about it with cheerfulness (anoint thy head and wash thy face), and, if need be, protracting it beyond the customary season. Righteousness, in all its forms, is the righteous- ness of God. To be righteous is to be holy, like God, impartial in love, like God, who sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. It is to be like Christ, whose life was in God and who perfectly THE FORMS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS 259 obeyed the will of God. Nothing less than the divine, absolute righteousness can satisfy man and society. " Our souls are restless," exclaimed Augustine, " and can find no rest until they rest in thee." Our souls can be filled only with the full- ness of God. When the tide is out, the bays and inlets and creeks are empty and forlorn. The great ships stick fast in the mud. No human power can fill the thousand empty indentures of the coast. But the swelling, rising tide of the ocean creeps in over the flats, covers their ugliness, rises higher and yet higher, lifts the ships from the bottom, till the billows come bowing over the surface, and the ships sail away to their destina- tions. The gulfs and inlets are filled, as they can only be filled, with all the fullness of the ocean. We may be filled with all the fullness of God, with his love, which in breadth and length and depth and height passes the reach of finite measurements and fathomings. Jesus illustrated by parables the universal ex- tent and the intensive perfection of the kingdom. The seed is sown in all hearts, in the shallow, the hard, the thorny, the fruitful ; and the field is the world. The righteousness of the kingdom pene- trates intensively, like leaven in flour, till the whole mass is leavened. The value of the charac- ter of righteous love is of absolute preciousness, like the pearl of greatest price, for which all lower values are exchanged. The kingdom of God, then, is the true social ideal, because it is moral rather than national or political, and so is as universal as humanity ; 260 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL because it is realized in character rather than in circumstance ; because all its members are ruled by the law of love in reciprocity of service accord- ing to need and worth; and because it has the righteousness of God, which Jesus exemplified in glad and perfect obedience to his Father's will. It follows that the kingdom is a society of re- lated personalities, in which, as in every organism, each member is at the same time means and end. The object in view is better personalities in a bet- ter society. If individuality is reduced till all are alike, society is reduced at the same time. There is no society in a community of Shakers, but only an aggregation of people who dress alike and pursue the same undeviating, mechanical routine. The word, community, suggests a dead level, share and share alike, all in common. Numbers are as good as names, as, to the management of a great hotel, guests are known by the numbers of their rooms. The word, society, suggests the person. Socius is a companion, and companionship means distinct personalities, alike in difference. One of the best descriptions of society to be found in lit- erature is Paul's comparison of the church to the bodily organism. Unity is possible only through differences. Each individual has his own peculiar gifts. The various members are not mutually ex- clusive, but reciprocally helpful. It would be folly for one to wish to be another, as for the eye to wish to be the ear. If all were seeing, where were the hearing ? The whole body depends on each RELATED PERSONALITIES 261 organ. Each organ depends on the whole body for the exercise of its own function. So the church is a true organism, for every member is at the same time the means and the end of the whole. It is an organism of the highest order, for the highest organisms are most diversely articulated and most distinct in variety of functions. Paul's use of the analogy is his emphatic injunction to every Chris- tian to be just as individual as he can, to cultivate to the utmost his own peculiar gifts, and least of all to try to become like somebody else. This is in accordance with the progress of society, as was observed in the second chapter. The advance of society is the increasing liberty and power of the individual, and therefore a more various and richer life for all, in reciprocity. The likeness of society and of the kingdom of God to an organism does not, however, obtain in all respects. We must not ride a parable on all fours. The analogy fails in respect to self-con- sciousness and choice. The separate members of an organism have no separate consciousness. There is only one central consciousness, that of the organ- ism. Society as a whole has no consciousness and choice, for these are found only in the several indi- viduals who constitute society. It is a collection of distributed consciousnesses, because each is a person. Some tendencies of modern thought are clearly due to overworking the analogy of organic life. They attribute to humanity as a whole a central consciousness and will which transcends individuals, whose action is therefore determined necessarily by the social or national will. For con- 262 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL venience and impression the personification of na- tions, societies, and the church, is permissible. But when such personification is made the basis of a social philosophy and even of a religion, such as Cornte's Grand Etre, and Kidd's altruistic con- sciousness which is purely corporate, it is open to serious criticism. The truth of such representa- tions is the recognition of a divine purpose working out in history, the will of God turning the hearts of men. But this is through the intelligent choices of men who recognize in part the divine truth and right. Paul put the will of Christ into the church as its central consciousness. The difference between society and a physical organism is quite as impor- tant as the resemblance. Man is distinguished by his personal consciousness and power of intelligent choice. The reciprocities of society he enters into, for the most part, consciously and willingly. I have dwelt in criticism on the analogy of society to the body, because the undue subordination of the individual which marks some social philosophies is an overworking of this analogy. The Christian ideal of the kingdom preserves and promotes personality. It is simply a kingdom or society of related personalities, each of whom is distinct in his own value, like the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son. Therefore, as already observed, social institutions and religious observ- ances are represented, never as ends in themselves, but always as means for perfecting persons. The tendency to exalt institutions and organizations was rebuked once and for all in the teaching of Jesus concerning the Sabbath. It was on the very RELATED PERSONALITIES 263 occasion when he was accused of desecrating the Sabbath that he declared he was working as God works, for the good of man : " My Father worketh even until now, and I work." Jesus went straight through the form and venerableness of institutions to their uses for persons. He was always teaching that the kingdom comes in the hearts and lives of individuals ; that to have better society there must be better persons. The illusion that improvement lies first in outward conditions, circumstances, and institutions, is not yet dispelled. Jesus taught that there must be the man in the circumstance ; righteousness first, the other things afterwards. This dependence of the outward on the inward is well expressed by Bishop Martensen : " God de- sires not merely outward action : he desires first of all to have regenerate men, prepared for every good work. All human deeds and efforts, all inci- dents and vicissitudes in the life of the individual, all national revolutions, are in their ultimate sig- nificance only means stuff and material through which and out of which human personalities may construct, mould, and prepare their intellectual and spiritual frame, their imperishable possession means not merely for the individual, but the ripen- ing of humanity for this future kingdom. Human orders of society the Family, the State, nay, even the Church in its earthly constitution are only temporary forms, which must be broken down when perfection arrives." * 1 Christian Ethics, p. 139. 264 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL VI It is a marked characteristic of the social ideal of Christianity that the kingdom of God is already established. It is now and here. " The kingdom of God," said Jesus, " is among you." It is in de- cided contrast with the expectation of the prophets of Israel who always pointed to the future. John the Baptist was a forerunner, who prepared the way for the coming Messiah. But Jesus taught that the new life of faith and obedience is life in the kingdom, and not life in preparation for a king- dom which will come by and by. " The Christian conception of life," remarks Dr. Newman Smyth, " and its supreme good, rests on this fundamental fact which Jesus announced, that the kingdom of God is not something wholly future, or remote from our present participation in it, but it is a real power and an actual reign of God already begun on earth, a kingdom of heaven into which we may now enter, and which offers through citizen- ship in it some immediate possession of the highest good and present part in the eternal life." l The kingdom is present because the new type of life now exists. The type is perfect. Life is brought under the perfect law of love. It is a real value and power, although it is not yet completely realized. There are new men, new creations in Christ Jesus, men who have put on Christ. Eter- nal life is not merely a life of the future which will nojb end, eternal in duration. It is a present life known by the experience of it to be of a kind which 1 Christian Ethics, p. 98. THE KINGDOM ESTABLISHED 265 cannot perish or decay. Every one who has a life like Christ's hath passed from death unto life already. The elements of death and decay are no longer working. The society composed of such characters is therefore a society established and extending in the earth. The present reality of the kingdom explains the certainty with which Jesus spoke. He spoke of what is. His own life and power he knew. He saw the same kind of life in others. When the seventy returned with enthusiastic report of the power they had exerted in the name of Jesus, he rejoiced in spirit. In those beginnings he saw that the kingdom of God had come among men, and in confident anticipation foresaw its full tri- umph. " I beheld Satan fallen as lightning from heaven." The calm certainty of Jesus as of one who saw the reality has been compared to the quiet and reasoned confidence of positive science. Asso- ciating his disciples with himself, he said : " We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen;" and again : " If I bear witness of myself my witness is true." Jesus gave evidence of that which he witnessed. The early preachers called themselves witnesses. So many of them bore tes- timony by suffering death that the word, witness, came to mean, martyr. To trace the derivation of our English word, martyr, to the Greek word for witness, is to go back to the reality of the life in Christ and to the kingdom of God as they stood forth clear and unquestioned to early be- lievers ; a reality they could not doubt, a value they could not relinquish, even to save their lives. 266 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL VII The kingdom of God is both real and ideal. As already existing, it carries within itself the pro- phecy of consummation. The seed is in the ground, and therefore the mustard-tree will spread out its branches, where the birds may build their nests. The ideal is in the real. The kingdom as real is the kingdom of God. The kingdom as ideal is the kingdom of heaven. I do not mean that this dis- tinction is always intended when the two terms are used, but that there is such difference of signi- fication. The kingdom of heaven is evidently the ideal state of perfection. The kingdom of heaven existing on earth is the ideal becoming real. The law of heaven is the law of earth and will so work in the midst of evils as to create a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. But it is the king- dom of God, who reveals himself in Christ, whose law of love is known, accepted, and realized, whose children men already are. " Now are we the sons of God." " If children, then heirs ; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together." Since there is now the kingdom of God, there must be in the future the kingdom of heaven. We can pray, Thy kingdom come, because we can also pray, Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven. A significant utterance of Jesus unites the real and the ideal. He was talking with an obscure and despised woman concerning the kingdom, which would not have a local centre, in a moun- REAL AND IDEAL 267 tain of Samaria, nor even in Jerusalem, but would be composed of spiritual worshipers, wherever they might be, and he said concerning it : "The hour cometh and now is." The woman had asked a question to change the subject, which had become embarrassing. Her casual inquiry was the occa- sion of a prediction respecting the coming religion, in the time when there should be true worshipers everywhere, worshiping the Father in spirit and in truth, a prediction which Jesus made with the utmost confidence : " Woman, believe me." The prediction was as bold as it was confident. In view of the world as it then was, the Jews with their formalism, the Greeks and Romans with their idolatry of sensuous worship and their skepticism, his own disciples gone to the village yonder to get food, expecting a kingdom of external show with good places for them, nothing could seem more improbable than the prevalence of spiritual wor- ship. It was even less probable than if we, look- ing on Africa, China, India, should say, the hour cometh when in those darkened lands the people will be true worshipers of the Father. A remote future that, we admit, and so a more remote future which Jesus predicted. It was an ideal ; all ideal. But he said, as if correcting himself for pointing to a far-away time, " The hour cometh, and now is." The new era has already been ushered in. In one aspect, although the hour is coming, it is far away. In another aspect, that hour has already struck. It was a new hour in the world's history when Jesus came. A new power had been introduced. A new cause was working. And although the large 268 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL results lay in the future, the cause, the power was already in the life of darkened, sinning, erring hu- manity. He meant more than that here and there already true worshipers could be found. That had always been the case, as when, in the time of Elijah, there were seven thousand who had not bowed the knee to Baal. He meant that a new day had dawned. The light, which lighteth every man, had come into the world and broken on the darkness. When we say of important results, " It is only a question of time," "The time is coming," it is be- cause a method or principle has been introduced and only needs time to work. Whenever we can see that the hour is coming we can also see, and it is because we can see, that the hour now is. The future lies in the present when a new force enters in. When upon our earth, life, whether or not previously present in potency, appeared at some favored spot, in the midst of rock and ice, or when darkness was on the face of the deep, it could have been said, ' The hour cometh when in place of this desolation there shall appear verdure, flowers, forests, bird, and beast.' Such an hour cometh be- cause it now is, because life is here. When man appeared, a child of the forest or the plain, not so much better than animals and weaker than some of them, it could have been said, ' The hour cometh when there shall be cities, ships, armies, slaves, kings, railroads, telegraphs, books, philosophy, science, art, religion.' Such an hour cometh be- cause it now is. Man is here. Such wonders he * will achieve, such he will become. Never before, but now, humanity's hour is come. When Jesus REAL AND IDEAL 269 appeared, it could have been said, ' The hour cometh when there will be no slaves, no armies, no idols, no burdensome and wearisome rituals, no injustice, no oppression, but when there will be peace and good-will among men, when men will live as chil- dren of one Father whom they worship in spirit and in truth, and as brothers and friends of each other.' The hour cometh because Jesus is here, and so the hour now is. At each of these three epochs, the appearance of life, the appearance of man, the ap- pearance of Jesus Christ, the old world became a new world ; and while ages were needed for the face of the earth and the face of society to be trans- formed, it was only a question of time, and it might have been said with equal truth, either, the hour cometh, or, the hour now is. A new hour strikes when the old order changeth. Before results be- come visible, the far-sighted seer says that the hour cometh, that the next century, the next genera- tion, the next decade, will witness great changes. But the hour cometh because it now is. He fore- sees because he sees. The seer is he who sees. Foresight of the future is insight of the present. When every one is saying that we live in a period of transition, social, political, theological, and that in the future there will have been radical trans- formations, it is because the change has already begun, because the hour now is. The social ideal of the kingdom of God, or the kingdom of heaven, is spoken of in the New Testa- ment either as real in the present or as ideal in the future, because it is both. The kingdom has come, is coming, is to come. The kingdom of God is 270 THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL SOCIAL amongst you, said Jesus ; yet when ye pray, say, Thy kingdom come. The nature of the kingdom will not change, but it will keep coming in new epochs till the kingdom of God becomes indeed the kingdom of heaven. How fine, broad, and true is the imagery of the vision seen on Patmos : " And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven prepared as a bride adorned for her husband." How profound as well as poetic is the union of ideal and real in the figure employed by the apostle to the Gentiles : " Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the mother of us all." The ideal is social. The heavenly city is a society. The individual does not depart into a solitary life, like a ship sailing away on the lonely ocean, but enters the throbbing life of a city. He goes from that real and living society which is the kingdom of God here to that pure and holy society which is the kingdom of heaven there. The two societies are one. Jeru- salem above is the mother of us all. The earthly Jerusalem is the type and prophecy of the heavenly Jerusalem. The real assuring the ideal is repre- sented with beautiful suggestiveness by Dr. Mar- tineau : " Beyond and yet within the moral empire that covers the broad level of the common world there is the promise of a state unrealized, or of a transfer to a new and unsuspected centre ; behind Rome there is Jerusalem ; and within Jerusalem an upper chamber whence voices already escape that neutralize the barriers of race and tongue, and are not silenced by the look of the impossible." 1 1 Types of Ethical Theory, vol. ii., p. 375. CHAPTER XI DEGENERATION A POPULAR book, which has had a wide circu- lation in Europe and America, undoubtedly owes some of its popularity to its title, " Degeneration." Max Nordau, in this voluminous work, has sub- jected to criticism the manners, dress, amusements, economics, politics, music, art, poetry, and drama of the modern world. In view of unhealthy, un- wholesome, tawdry, meretricious, artificial, osten- tatious, covetous, sentimental, hysterical, erotic, corrupt, cruel, and other deplorable tendencies too numerous to mention, he emits through several hundred pages a prolonged wail, which deepens at times to a groan and rises at times to a shriek. These tendencies he considers delirious rather than immoral, and, like insanity, indicative of degener- ation. He does not deny that there are healthy as well as unhealthy tendencies, but does affirm an excessive and deplorable abnormity, especially in art and literature. That such a book is widely read is very significant. Paulsen says that a time is characterized more by the books it reads than by those it writes. He says of another book of Nordau's, the " Conventional Lies of Cultured Humanity: " " This book is conspicuous neither for 272 DEGENERATION its contents nor form ; it contains nothing but the assurance repeated a hundred times that our whole life and thought is a lie. But this very circumstance will puzzle a future age more fortunate than our own, let us hope ; for what made the work so at- tractive ? will be asked. Did it really express the self -consciousness of its age ? " l There is a strange, yet almost irresistible fas- cination in realistic delineations of the bad. The fascination is strange because the facts are re- volting ; it is irresistible because they are facts. Hawthorne's two greatest works are occupied with the analysis of characters affected by crime and sin. " The Scarlet Letter " and " The House of the Seven Gables " are histories of crime. The pure and innocent personages of the stories are only a background of light to project in sharp outline the dark character of the principal figures. The most powerful novels of Balzac portray realistically incar- nations of evil. The " Paradise Lost " transcends the " Paradise Regained " in power and interest. Dante's "Inferno" and " Purgatorio" are greater than his " Paradiso." The drama revolves around the conflict of good with evil. Tragedy is concerned with great wrongs. Even Comedy deals with the follies and mistakes of men. Facts which are so important to literature cannot be inventions of genius nor mere incidents of life. Literature is a human interest. It portrays the sentiments, emo- tions, passions, struggles, and achievements of hu- manity. If the perversity of human nature were not most real and most persistent, that perversity 1 Introduction to Philosophy, p. 67- DEGENERATION AND EVOLUTION 273 could not fill so large a place in popular and in permanent literary products. II Thus far our discussion of ethics has proceeded with scarcely any reference to the bad element in human nature. The Good, the Right, Self-Realiza- tion, Altruism, the Personal and Social Ideals of Christianity have been characterized without notice of failure, mistake, perversion, and degeneration, in actual life. Goodness has been exhibited. Bad- ness has been ignored. At certain points perver- sion, for a moment, came into view. The question whether waste and destruction are immoral de- manded an answer. Self-realization had to be dis- tinguished from selfishness. The Christian ideal of love could not be detached from the sins and sorrows of men which pressed upon the heart of Jesus and elicited his sympathy. Still, we have been studying the moral rather than the immoral, real and ideal virtue rather than transgressions. As a rule, systems of ethics do not consider moral perversion, perhaps because it lies out of the range of the science and philosophy of ethics. Theoreti- cal systems are occupied with the nature of the chief good, the grounds of obligation, the motives and desires which determine virtue, and with criti- cism of alternative theories. About the only wrong- ness recognized is the wrongness of systems which are regarded as erroneous, and that is an intel- lectual rather than a moral perversion. There is, however, such a thing as transgression. There is disturbance of the moral order, or at least failure 274 DEGENERATION to realize the\ ideal. Literature is true to life in this respect. Practical morality has to take into account the actual state of man in society, as well as his perceptions and endowments/ The most effective ethics the world has known is a restora- tion as well as a realization. It is a corrective of defect as well as a perfect ideal. /Its ideal is in vivid contrast with the actual. We have now reached the point at which transgres- sion and degeneration must be recognized. If they are ignored some of the most real and important conditions of human progress are omitted. Indeed, evolution, even before it reaches man, finds rever- sion. Selection implies rejection. Survival of the fittest signifies the temporary presence of the unfit. Degeneration is a stock word of evolution. There is, then, no occasion for surprise, if reversion and degeneration appear in the development of the human species. Their absence would be surprising. There is human as well as plant and animal degen- eracy. Max Nordau borrowed the title of his book from evolution. As plants and animals have dis- eases which are abnormal and which impair or de- stroy the normal type, so there is moral disease which invades and corrupts the ideal character. Whether avoidable or not is a question that per- tains to personality. Whether actual or not is a question which does not even arise. That which is morally abnormal may with pro- priety be designated as degeneration, not only be- cause degeneration is found in orders below the human, but also because it keeps in view the type or ideal departed from. It means departure from FACT AND EXTENT 275 the genus. Degeneration is that which is away from the genus. There is thus an advantage in employing this word rather than sin, vice, and crime (although the latter terms will be freely used), for it always implies the type, the norm, the genus, the ideal, and implies an ideal correspond- ing to the nature of man, to the moral genus homo. There is advantage in the word, degeneration, also, because Christianity implies it in a term which has passed from the Scriptures to theology, and is its exact counterpart, namely, regeneration. in The recognition of moral evil is not difficult. The only difficulty is to know where to begin. The need of social reforms is as good a starting- point as any. It is generally assumed that society needs reformation in various relations, and society means the persons who compose it. Many are expending their energy on industrial reform. They trace nearly all existing evils to selfish competition which creates huge monopolies and trusts, and which makes the laborer the last rather than the first partaker of the fruits. It is contended that economic conditions should be changed from com- petition to combination, that there should be an equitable, or perhaps an equal distribution of wealth. Poverty, disease, shortened lives, crime, intemperance, ~and, in fact nearly all evils are traced to the encroachment of profit upon wages. Others are devoted to the reform of the family. They find in frequent divorce, in hasty and ill as- sorted marriages, in the displacement of the home 276 DEGENERATION by tenement and boarding-house, in the prevalence of licentiousness which is fatal to domestic purity and a preventive of marriage, the root of all kinds of evil. Others, still, find in political and muni- cipal corruption a crying evil. These are wrongs, injustices, and perversions which infest civilized society. Then, there are down-trodden races, un- fortunate countries, Armenian massacres, African slave-trade, Indian caste-system, Chinese stolidity and superstition ; everywhere cruelty, suffering, debasement, vices which cannot be named, wicked- ness which cannot be described. The commanding interests of life are needed readjustments, purifica- tions, reform of morals, customs, and manners. The progress which is needed and expected is the correction of wrongs. It is not merely movement from states of stagnation and inertia, nor merely expansion of the good. It is also, and, as some think, chiefly, correction of the bad. The theorist may regard evil as a necessary condition of good, but will not deny its existence. Theory aside, every one knows that there is perversion in nearly all human relations. Furthermore, the case is, not that part of the world is entirely right and part entirely wrong, but that every one fails in some measure to prac- tice the right he perceives and approves. Even the virtue which is practiced is in some conflict, more or less strenuous, with many propensities and habits. This is so common that virtue has been measured by its difficulty. Some have gone so far as to maintain, and with the authority of the philosopher Kant, that a perfectly virtuous action, FACT AND EXTENT 277 motived by pure and unalloyed regard for the moral law, has never been performed. According to the social code one may be blameless, and may indignantly resent accusation. But the social code does not penetrate to motives. It requires little more than security against dishonesty and untruth- fulness. As measured by such a code one may protest his innocence, while before the ideal of righteousness which includes motives and feelings he pleads guilty. How absurd, it is said, for a thoroughly upright man whom every one respects, to confess in prayer that he is a miserable sinner and there is no health in him. Why, if he should be taken at his word, and charged with any par- ticular sin of theft or falsehood, he would resent it angrily. But there is no inconsistency. If he should be charged with certain wrong motives and feelings he would admit that the charge is true. Some one has said that if a man calls himself faultless in the deepest sense of the word, and the opinion of those who know him best is asked, they blame him for a number of things, but above all for his abominable self-conceit and pride. When Christians set themselves up as perfection- ists and aver that they have not sinned by the space of a year, a hundred neighbors vie with each other in criticism of blemishes and faults. We assume and believe that every one has some moral taint, that the best men are not free from faults. We do not believe that all men are totally de- praved. Depravity is not total. If it were, men would be as bad as they can be. But de- pravity, which is crookedness, deviation from the 278 DEGENERATION straight or right line, is universal, for no one is perfectly conformed to the ideal. Huxley says truly : " The majority of us, I apprehend, profess neither pessimism nor optimism. We hold that the world is neither so good, nor so bad, as it conceivably might be ; and as most of us have reason, now and again, to discover that it can be." l No effort need be expended in showing that de- generation, in some degree, and with its accom- panying evils, is universal. Interest pertains to the nature and causes of it, and to the power of recovery. IV What, then, is degeneration ? It is that which the word suggests ; the absence or the opposite of virtue, which is the normal character. If goodness is supremacy of the higher over the lower in the proportionate satisfaction of all powers, badness is the reverse of this order, is the satisfaction of the lower to the neglect of the higher. This is the popular idea of sin ; gratification of the appetites and passions of sense ; the sacrifice of truth or honor or purity in order to enjoy sensuous pleas- ures and to gain physical good ; estimate of material wealth as the chief good because it minis- ters to the enjoyment of luxurious and sensual pleasures. The scholar who by intemperance is withdrawn from literary activity is like the man who in base self-indulgence neglects the higher values of duty and character. He degenerates. He falls below the normal type of worth. The lowest satisfactions are not bad in themselves. 1 Evolution and Ethics, p. 30. ABNORMITY 279 They have their proper and necessary place. They are bad when they are the only satisfactions ; when, instead of being subsidiary, they become supreme. Degeneration so often takes the form of sensuous gratification that some philosophers and theologians have held that this is the source of all sin. The ascetic discipline has usually been a practical expression of this theory. It has claimed support in Paul's contrast between the carnal and the spiritual man. Quite lately, the theory has been revived under the supposed sanction of evo- lution. It is held that man has not yet rid him- self wholly of his inheritance of animal instincts, that sin is just the animal instincts which are not yet subdued or superseded by moral and spiritual development. Huxley says : " For his successful progress, as far as the savage state, man has been largely indebted to those qualities which he shares with the ape and the tiger. . . . But, in proportion as men have passed from anarchy to social organi- zation and in proportion as civilization has grown in worth, these deeply ingrained serviceable quali- ties have become defects. After the manner of successful persons, civilized man would gladly kick down the ladder by which he has climbed. He would be only too pleased to see ' the ape and tiger die.' But they decline to suit his convenience ; and the unwelcome intrusion of these boon com- panions of his hot youth into the ranged existence of civil life adds pains and griefs, innumerable and immeasurably great, to those which the cosmic process necessarily brings on the mere animal. In fact, civilized man brands all these ape and tiger 280 DEGENERATION promptings with the name of sins ; he punishes many of the acts which flow from them as crimes ; and, in extreme cases, he does his best to put an end to the survival of the fittest of former days by axe and rope." l Some of our most advanced theologians trace sin to the vestiges of the animal remaining in the human descendants. The theory is carried to its extreme conclusion in the doctrine of conditional immortality. Those who develop into spiritual character and throw off the animal inheritance will survive death. Those who are controlled by the animal desires and fail to attain the spiritual char- acter will perish, like the animals. Logically, the theory means that there are two varieties of the human species, bestial men and spiritual men, and, inasmuch as the individual can pass from one state to the other, the evolution of men from ani- mals was not completed ages ago, with no survival of intermediate forms (missing links), but is now going on before our eyes, and in some cases very rapidly. I will not pause to measure the truth and the error of this theory. It certainly is true that many sins spring from physical desires. I cannot but think, however, that some injustice is done our humble ancestors when all human iniqui- ties are fathered upon that which they have be- queathed to us. They might remind us that we have misused our inheritance, that it is only be- cause we have higher powers that there is any wrong in physical gratification, and more than all, that many sins are not physical at all. It is so 1 Evolution and Ethics, p. 6. ABNORMITY 281 evident that some of the worst sins, such as revenge, pride, falsehood, selfish ambition, spring from de- sires which are not sensuous, that a broader theory must be sought for. The miser is an ascetic. He is innocent of sensuous sins. He exchanges physi- cal for spiritual sin, the coarse for the fine per- version. A narrow ambition keeps the body un- der. Mephistopheles cared nothing for carnal pleasures. His was the evil which is described in Scripture as spiritual wickedness in high places. To be sure, every act is physical, for man is not a disembodied spirit, but also, every act is intellect- ual and spiritual, for man is not a mere animal. If there is any one motive of wrong which ac- counts for all sins, and furnishes a comprehensive theory of perversion, that motive is, perhaps, self- ishness. It certainly includes many sins. It is also more profound than the former theory, for physical gratification is wrong only when it is self- ish. Selfishness has already been defined as the opposite of self-love. Self-love seeks one's own perfection in the proportionate satisfaction of all the powers according to the ideal of the good. Self- ishness seeks the lower satisfactions, which, when they are made the chief ends, are unworthy of a man. Physical indulgences are included in selfish- ness but are not its only forms. It is also in con- trast with love of others. It seeks that which cannot be shared with others, seeks that wherein " companionship is one with loss." The true good is that which can be shared. Kaftan gives clear expression to this in his definition of the chief good, already cited. He says that well-being is a 282 DEGENERATION preference of the moral goods which are possessed by men in common above those of the individual. This is true. A good which is not increased but is reduced by sharing it is a lower good. In fact, it is not a good at all. Such possessions and en- joyments are spoken of as goods only because they are so regarded. As chief ends they are bad, and debase character. The selfish man may company and cooperate with others, but he employs others simply as means to his own ends. He would make them his tools. Some degrading pleasures are social of necessity, but the companion in sin is cast aside when he or she can no longer be used. It has been truly said, too truly, that in the end the libertine destroys the victim he has so hotly pur- sued. So many sins consist in the use of others as tools to gain lower gratifications that, popularly, selfishness is rightly considered the very essence of nearly all known sins. When worldliness is regarded as the bad ele- ment in human nature, it is so merely as the object- ive form of selfishness. Love of the world, so far as it is wrong, is love of those things in the world which minister to the lower gratifications of sensu- ality, covetousness, pride, and ambition. It need not, therefore, be dwelt upon. The fact is that a philosophy of sin is extremely difficult and wellnigh impossible because sin is ir- rational. It is against reason because it is against nature. It is contrary to the truth. That which is unreason cannot be reasoned about, cannot give a reason for itself. I am not sure but that this is the final and comprehensive rationale of moral de- ABNORMITY 283 generation, that it has no rationale, that it must simply be regarded as the false, absurd, and irra- tional, as man's contradiction of himself. It is like discords in music, like false perspective in pic- tures, like the old geocentric astronomy. It is dis- tortion, perversion, contradiction, absurdity. There is no reason why a man should sin, for sin is trans- gression of the laws of his own constitution. In the last analysis, he sinneth against his own soid. According to the withering satire of the Bible, the sinner is a fool. He is irrational and absurd. Sin is a blunder. It is illusion and delusion. It is a lie. The devil, the personification of evil, is the father of lies from the beginning. The perverse man pursues the evanescent, the fugitive, the receding, the vanishing. Sin is vanity. Vanity literally means emptiness. The outstretched hand grasps nothingness. As it is seized, it vanishes. The sinner is always in pursuit of a vanishing quantity. He is running after the end of the rain- bow. He is following a mirage into the wilderness. The nature of sin does not lend itself to a philoso- phy, since it is the folly of self-contradiction. But its results are known. Being unreason, it must issue in failure and misery. A man might as well set himself against the laws of nature, or defy the laws of health, with expectation of peace and safety, as to set himself against the laws of right- eousness, which are absolute, unchanging, pitiless. Reason recognizes that worth of character which is the ideal, normal man. Such man is. This is his intention, his original, his type. He is such a crea- ture. He cannot defy himself with impunity. It 284 DEGENERATION is because sin is irrational that it presents an insol- uble problem. There is no problem of the good. The good is the reasonable. " What is true to the reason is law to the will." The good is man's conformity to his ideal. Sin can give no reason for itself. It cannot answer the question, why ? Degeneration, or sin, in the last analysis and the deepest consciousness is alienation from God. The law of God is the expression of supreme and abso- lute reason, of which man's reason is the copy. The law is the expression of perfect righteousness from which man's righteousness is derived. Con- science and the imperative of obligation are the voice of God, for they respond to that law which man did not create and cannot annul, which he only discovers in his own constitution, which is therefore the law of God. Sin is transgression of God's law, which is the law of man's perfection. In consciousness, therefore, sin is unrest and dis- content. The source of man's moral life, as of his physical, is in God. Sin is self-sufficiency. Sev- ered from the source of his life, man is restless and unhappy. These various aspects of sin which have been designated as preference of the lower to the higher, as selfishness, as worldliness, as irrational- ity, and as self-sufficiency in separation from God, may all be regarded as degeneration from the type or ideal, for the ideal is preference of the higher to the lower, as true self-love and love to others, as the truth of reason, as the divine idea of man's constitution, and as life in the reason, holiness, and love of God, in whose image man is made. FREEDOM 285 V The possibility of moral degeneration is found in personality. A person can compare values and choose between them. Alternatives are open. More than one course of action is possible. But man does not have absolute freedom. Some objects are completely out of his reach. Some things he would like he cannot have. Some things one man can have another cannot have. Some things a man thinks he can have and expects to have are impossible to him. A grown man cannot by taking most careful thought add a cubit to his stature. The additional intellectual cubit is as unattainable as is the coveted physical tallness. Some men make themselves ridiculous in the attempt to be philosophers, teachers, musicians, poets, inventors, wits. But certain alternatives are presented to every one. There is a limited freedom. The extreme illustration employed by Dr. Holmes, which likens human freedom to a drop of water imprisoned in a crystalline sphere, leaves some mobility. A man can eat one kind of food rather than another. He can sit still or walk. He can be silent or can speak, at least, some men seem to have that power. He can read a book rather than a newspaper. He can make a true or a false representation. He can be honest or can cheat. He can relieve another's want or can turn away contemptuous. Theoreti- j cally, freedom has been denied. It has been maintained that power of choice is imaginary, that the course actually taken is the only course 286 DEGENERATION that could have been taken. But. the theory admits and assumes that all men believe they have the power of choice, that they always have believed it, and always will believe it, that they act as if they were free. Necessitarians admit that they themselves are conscious of having this power and of exercising it constantly, that they feel responsibility, have regrets, and blame or praise others. Human nature has the endowment of consciousness of freedom. Every one has it. No one has persuaded himself that he has it. On the contrary no one can persuade himself out of it. Bushnell cites the case of an author who had written a book to prove that man is not free, and who, in reply to his critics, asseverated vehe- mently that their telling strictures were wicked. A French theologian, Naville, gives a similar in- stance. Dr. Holmes, when he was not theorizing, directed his satire mercilessly against certain in- dividuals whose actions he did not approve, and did not exempt one of the governors of Massachu- setts from the outpourings of his vials of witty wrath. The sense of freedom within certain limits is a furnishing of human nature. It is a value, a power, an endowment so real and univer- sal, that conditions brought over from the non- human realm of physical nature cannot be applied to it. Persons are distinctive. They are on another range. They are not out of connection with physical nature. They subdue it to their uses. But self-determining persons are a different kind of power from the necessitated causes and effects of chemical and mechanical forces, and the FREEDOM 287 difference consists largely in the power of choos- ing among alternatives, a power which implies reason and self-consciousness. I do not deem it necessary to weigh the argu- ments for and against the limited freedom of man. There are only two considerations which I care to present. One is, that the universe seems to be adapted to alternative actions of men. This has been conclusively shown by Professor William James in an article on the .Dilemma of Determin- ism, which has suggested the illustration I am about to employ. 1 When I am at the seashore, I can go to a house two miles away, in a carriage, or a boat, or on a bicycle, or on my feet. The struc- ture of the universe is such that either mode of locomotion fits into it. After I have driven, the necessitarian, or, as he prefers to call himself, the determinist, declares that it would have been im- possible to walk. But, if I had walked, he would say it would have been impossible to drive. Em- pirical observation of facts could find no impossi- bility in either mode of motion. It is only some preconceived notion of cause and effect in the action of physical forces which denies me the possibility of alternative action. But this neces- sity of cause and effect is not given by empirical observation of nature, for only part of nature has been observed. It is given by the mind which observes. It is a rational inference or postulate. Yet the mind which puts certain laws into nature is the mind which is conscious of the power of choice. The one conviction is as real and sure as 1 Unitarian Review, Sept., 1884. 288 DE GENERA TION the other. In fact, the notion of cause producing effect is derived from the human will. One exerts power. He produces effects. He is a cause as truly as he is an effect. He is a self- determining cause. Instead of interpreting him- self in the terms of physical nature, he interprets nature in terms of himself. The point I would make is, that necessity in nature is a mental pos- tulate, and that power of alternative action is a mental postulate, and that there is no good reason why either should be denied, especially as nature makes room, so far as we can see, for a consider- able range of alternative action by man, and even a slight range of alternative action by animals. A dog seems to be, and perhaps is, undecided whether to follow his master or finish his bone, and nature accommodates either course. Physical nature has its mode of action. Human nature has its mode of action. They are not contradic- tory, but they are not identical. The other consideration is that the real and only difficulty about contingent action is the omni- potence and omniscience of God. It is not easy to see how, if God foreknows, and especially if he controls all events, there can be the uncertainty which exists if man can choose one course rather than another. The attempts made by theologians and philosophers to reconcile human freedom with divine sovereignty have not been crowned with success. God has been compared to a chessplayer, who will checkmate his opponent, whatever moves he may make. The Arminian says that God fore- Bees without compelling, as a sagacious man clearly FREEDOM 289 foresees action in which he has no part. Some have held that God delimits himself, vacates, as it were, a margin of the field to man, a margin with limits, but within which, whether man goes right or wrong, he will subserve the purposes of God. Others say that the free will of man is one of the causes through which God works. But these ex- planations are unsatisfactory, for they deny the very thing they assume. They deny complete knowledge or complete power to God. He does not know every course man may take, although he knows the result. He does not control every act of man, although he foresees the result. But in- complete knowledge is not omniscience, and partial power, vacated power, is not omnipotence. Yet it is because God is omniscient and omnipotent that the possibility of human freedom calls for expla- nation. For my own part, I have long ago given up the expectation of harmonizing these two con- ceptions. But I think we know more about human freedom than we know about omniscience and omnipotence. God reveals himself in his works ; man is one of his works ; and man cannot rid him- self of the consciousness of freedom and responsi- bility. I accept the facts as I find them and do not trouble myself to adjust them to my meta- physical conceptions of God. If there is room in God's creation for man the person, whose greatness is his power of originating action, who has sense of obligation and uncompromising condemnation of wrong, who is at the head of creation because he has conscience and reason, there certainly is room for him to act in accordance with his powers. 290 DEGENERATION Nature makes room for him, and God makes room for him. One who does not believe in a God has no trouble about freedom on the score of omni- potence ; and as nature is adapted to certain alternatives of human action, and as every man is conscious of power to choose, there seems to be no reason why the materialist should deny that power, since facts are worth more to him than d priori notions. I assume, then, a degree of freedom as giving the possibility of degeneration. Some forms of degeneration are inevitable, such as disease of the body, which, for the individual, is unavoidable, although preventable perhaps by combined precau- tion. Such degeneration has no moral character. It is not sin. One does not blame himself for it. But there is a degeneration which is moral because it is avoidable. The origin of it is found in man's power of alternative action, in the fact that he can see and approve the better, and yet may follow the worse. There are two philosophies of evil ; the philoso- phy of necessity and the philosophy of liberty. Both are ancient and modern. To the Greek, evil resided in matter ; disorder was there. Accident, disease, and death were there. The gods did not create matter. They found it as it was, and did the best they could with it. But its disorder and evil remained in some degree. Every man must suffer more or less from the dire necessities of the world and of the flesh. Evil was misfortune rather than fault. There really was no sin. The unavoidable was excusable. Evil was the shadow FREEDOM 291 of necessity. To the Jew, God created the world. It was God's world. Nature was not a growth, an evolution, a constant flux. It originated in God and was governed by him. Evil, therefore, was not in nature, for God created all. In the boldness of faith one prophet declared that God created the darkness and the light, the good and the evil. Evil, however, could not come from God, for there is no evil in him. Evil is from man's disobe- dience of the law of God. Man is a person with liberty of choice. He chose evil rather than good. Evil is the shadow of liberty. The contrast of the Greek and the Hebrew philosophy is admirably set forth by Miss Julia Wedgwood in the chap- ters on The Problem of Evil and The Fall of Man in " The Moral Ideal." A single quotation must suffice : " The belief that the very constitu- tion of our spiritual nature implies the possibility of Evil, was a natural reaction from the belief that the very constitution of our material environment implies the existence of Evil. We see how Person- ality was made an answer to the unanswerable problem only when we see how the very opposite of Personality had at first filled the place. We understand best the theory that finds the origin of evil in a choice that might vary at any moment when we compare it with the view against which it was a recoil, that Evil was a definite tangible reality, a thing of a certain fixed compass and amount, which might be shut in within its own limits, and disentangled from its opposite, but which even by omnipotence could not be destroyed. There can be no reaction more inevitable than that 292 DEGENERATION from the spirit which sees in matter the source of Evil, to that which sees the source of Evil in hu- man choice. It was a natural thing to see Evil as the shadow of Liberty, when men had for long seen evil as the shadow of Necessity." l Even the Persian, who believed that man could choose between right and wrong, thought that there was a kingdom of Evil ruled over by Ahriman, to whom Ormuzd was opposed. He believed that Ahriman would finally be overcome, and that man could cooperate with Ormuzd, chiefly by industry reclaiming the earth to fruitf ulness. It is needless to say that the philosophy which denies freedom to man and regards evil as a neces- sary incident in a necessitated evolution, and the philosophy which affirms freedom and regards evil as a perversion of liberty, are reproduced under different forms in the modern philosophies of ma- terialism and personality. A reaction has set in against the materialistic philosophy. Personality is reasserting itself. Evil is seen to be- the shadow of liberty, not the shadow of necessity. With this revival there goes a profounder and more sombre thought of sin, but with it also a more cheerful hope that evil may be reduced and event- ually removed by human endeavor. The necessity of the material world, which presses hard on man, is real and can never be ignored. But personality and liberty are real, and in the end maintain ascend- ancy in theory, as they always have in fact. 1 The Moral Ideal, p. 332. MORAL POWER NOT DESTROYED 293 VI Degeneration may impair without destroying the moral powers, as disease may exist without pro- ducing death. Observation shows every degree of degeneration. Some men seem to have no vul- nerable point. Other men seem to have no in- vulnerable moral point. Some seem to have no unhealthy spot. Others seem to be unsound throughout. Between these extremes are individu- als combining every proportion of good and bad. It is doubtful, however, whether either extreme actually exists. Popular proverbs express this doubt. " Every man has his price." " To err is human." The best men have at least the defects of their virtues. There seems to be a lack of humanness in one who has no faults and can be assailed by no temptations. " They say, best men are molded out of faults, And for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad." l On the other hand, the worst men have redeem- ing qualities. Profligates are generous. The mur- derer loves his child. The fratricide shudders at the thought of matricide. Man is between angel and devil ; all the way between. But, when a deeper penetration analyzes charac- ter it is seen that a quantitative estimate of more or less is superficial, that either goodness or bad- ness is masterful, that the forces of health are ex- tending their area and reducing disease, or the forces of degeneration are invading and limiting 1 Measure for Measure, act v., se. i. 294 DEGENERATION the area of goodness. There is either pursuit of the ideal of self-love and love to others, or there is selfishness which prefers the lower to the higher good. A man is not one thing to-day and another thing to-morrow, a good man this week and a bad man next week. Every one has a character which is strengthening and confirming itself continually. There may be vacillations and inconsistencies. But on the whole a man is what he is, and his ac- tions correspond to his character. I think there is really no dispute about this. It is the very gos- pel of the determinist (or perhaps I should say his law, for it is not good news to most of us), that character determines action and actions continu- ally confirm character. It is the very philosophy of the theologian that there are two kinds of char- acter, the good and the bad, the saint and the sin- ner. There is no denial of the imperfections of the saint nor of the good qualities of the sinner. Concerning one sinner, Jesus said that he lacked only one thing. The difference between the theo- logian and the determinist is that the theologian believes and the determinist denies that the sinner can become a saint by one decisive, supreme choice, which is a radical change of character. The deter- minist believes that a man may by his own efforts gradually change his character and at length be of quite another sort, yet by so infinitesimal de- grees that he passes over the line imperceptibly, as night passes into day, as the tide creeps over the bar. The theologian believes that a man may lay hold of moral forces, of the ideal presented in Christ, and when he does so may become a changed MORAL POWER NOT DESTROYED 295 character, as the traveler may take one road rather than another, as he may come out of a cave into the broad light, as he may turn the helm of his boat and sail away from northern seas to a sunny clime. Two ships may be side by side and for hours within sight of each other, but sailing in op- posite directions. I shall return to recovery from degeneration in the next chapter. The fact that the worst men have some vestiges of goodness signifies power of recovery. Man as sinful in whatever degree has capability of good- ness, which is not destroyed, and which under ap- propriate conditions asserts control. Some regard for right remains. There is sense of obligation, conviction of right, some aspiration towards the ideal, some self-accusation, some conscious discon- tent. Were these wanting, were there no know- ledge of right and wrong, man would cease to be a moral being. He might be miserable, but he would not be man. In his moral perceptions and convic- tions is the power of recovery to his ideal. So long as men, however degenerate, hear the call to be better men, they have the power to be better. They may not be able of themselves to change character, but they may be able to attach them- selves to recuperative moral forces and persons, as one cannot communicate with another a hundred miles away, but can do so by availing himself of the invisible forces of nature. There have always been counter-agencies to degeneration. Society it- self, in the family, in government, in mutual de- pendences, is full of moral values. Good men are a counter-check on bad men. Law, art, literature, 296 DEGENERATION and philosophy have objectified the ideal. These are, indeed, human creations, but creations which combine the good which exists in many persons. Individuals as they now are in society, however bad they may be, have capability of goodness. They see and approve the good, and can choose and follow it. The theological doctrine of the Fall of man is naturally suggested by the facts we have been con- sidering. The doctrine owes more to Augustine and Milton than to the Book of Genesis. The Scriptural truth is that man made wrong choices very early, say, at the beginning, and that those choices brought many evils upon him. He was in a state of simplicity and innocence. He was un- clothed and after a time wore skins of animals. We should call him a savage. He was tempted and did wrong, and kept on going wrong. A moral crisis discovered him to himself as a moral being. But he made progress. He practiced some vir- tues. He tilled the ground. He gained knowledge. He cultivated simple arts. He built cities. He formed governments. He could not have remained in the primitive, characterless state. It was not intended that he or any of us should revert to that state. He became a creature of good and bad impulses. At times he yielded to the lower and became very bad indeed. At times he at- tained goodness and made considerable progress. The story is true to human nature and human his- tory. Every one comes to a moral crisis. Almost every one first seeks satisfaction in the lower. But power for goodness remains, and the conditions MORAL POWER NOT DESTROYED 297 for goodness exist. The important questions are, not how bad or degenerate men became, nor how far the first man fell, but rather, what are the neces- sary and actual conditions under which there can be recovery from degeneration and the realization of goodness ? CHAPTER XII PERSONAL REGENERATION REGENERATION is a word which has recently ob- tained rather wide currency in various applications. The phrases, social regeneration, and, municipal re- generation, are on many lips. Even the regenera- tion of art and the regeneration of literature are spoken of. As a designation of the betterment of conditions, " regeneration " is a more significant word than " reform," possibly because it suggests a profound and thorough transformation rather than a superficial and specific improvement. Reform is removal of an abuse or excrescence. Regeneration is recovery to the normal type, the genus. The word has come over from Christianity. It is found in the Christian Scriptures. It has survived in theology. It has always held a place in the lan- guage of faith and experience. So vital a word could not perish, even when it was made to carry the burden of unreal and artificial emotions. It suggests the moral and spiritual man recovered to himself. It means restoration of the genus. In popular and in Scriptural language regeneration is a birth, a new birth. The two words are syn- onymous. Birth is reproduction of a species. It is vital, not mechanical. As physical birth is the human species reproducing itself after its kind, so moral and spiritual birth is character reproduced RECOVERY 299 according to the human type. Since character is by one's own choice rather than by the agency of others, the new birth, the regeneration, follows after the natural birth, and is either the appropriation of the true character, or a recovery to it from ab- normal and degenerate character. The meaning of regeneration has become all the more distinct now that its precise counterpart, degeneration, has come into popular and scientific use. Degenera- tion so clearly signifies impairment of type that regeneration as plainly signifies recovery and de- velopment according to the type or genus. The title of this chapter and of the two following chap- ters has the advantage of Christian usage through the centuries, of recent popular application to the improvement of society, and of contrast with the term employed by science and literature to desig- nate departure from the normal type, the word, de- generation. In this chapter we consider the real- ization of personal character, with especial regard to Christian regeneration, and in the two succeed- ing chapters some of the forms and conditions of social regeneration. Although personal regeneration is the positive realization of the normal type, it is undoubtedly in the Christian Scriptures regarded as a recovery from the abnormal sinful type. All men are sup- posed to be more or less degenerate. This also is common opinion. Along with physical and intel- lectual vigor, along with advancement in arts, along with the evolution of the inonogamic family 300 PERSONAL REGENERATION and of the institutions of government, there is sensu- ousness, vice, selfishness, sin. The individual needs moral regeneration. As a perfectly healthy person is the exception, so a perfectly normal character is the rare exception, even if it exists at all. Yet, although Christianity makes this assumption, it represents forgiveness and recovery as incidental, as the negative side of regeneration. Sin is an obstruction to be removed, a formidable, almost insurmountable obstacle, it may be, but still only a hindrance and denial of the true character. Deliverance from sin and its consequences is not the ultimate object. Redemption is from sin, it is true, but that is not all. It is from sin unto holi- ness. And it is holiness which gives recovery from sin. Theology has given too large a place to pen- alty and guilt as related to the law of God. It has represented the satisfaction of justice and the forgiveness of sins as the principal object of the revelation of God's love in Christ. Theology has maintained that one cannot be forgiven on his re- pentance alone, but that the penalty of his sin must be paid off by some equivalent. The effect of these theories, which I shall criticise in a later chapter, has been, to say the least, reversal of pro- portion. Personal righteousness and the kingdom of God are the primary and principal objects. In- cident to these is deliverance from sin and its con- sequences of disease and degeneracy. But it is only by choice and realization of the good that sin can cease and its consequences be escaped. To convert the sinner into a saint is the object of the gospel. Becoming a saint he ceases to be a sinner. There RECOVERY 301 is no other way in which he can cease to be a sin- ner. If he chooses to be a child of God, there are no old accounts hanging over him which must be settled. He is simply forgiven and welcomed. Penalty is an inherent consequence of the selfish, sinful, degenerate status. It can be remitted and escaped only by change to the status of righteous- ness. It is, indeed, so wonderful a thing that one can be delivered from the bondage of sin that at first remission of sins may seem to be the whole of it. But the real object is righteousness. There is no condemnation, it is true. One does not con- demn himself, and God does not condemn him. But it is not by arrangement external to himself. He is new-privileged because he is new-charactered. Guilt is an estimate of character. So far as the past is concerned it never is removed. If one is regenerated when he is thirty years old, his guilt when he was twenty remains just what it was. Looking back, he disapproves himself even more than he did at the time. He was the guilty one. Nothing can ever change that fact. But that is of little consequence now. One should not think about it. God does not reproach him. "Your sins and iniquities will I remember no more ; " that is, I will not remind you of them. As one who has reformed sometimes reverts to his past wickedness but is not allowed to dwell on it we will not talk about that so in respect to the old character of sin. The father did not allow the prodigal to complete the confessions he had pre- pared to make, but interrupted him and dwelt on the fact of his return home. Redemption, like re- 302 PERSONAL REGENERATION generation, says to, rather than from. It is from sin and misery because it is to right uses. The ordinary is the Christian meaning of redemption ; one is redeemed or recovered to his uses. The objective point of the gospel is regenera- tion of character. Its initial call is to repentance. Repentance (/xcrarota) is a change of mind. It is not merely regret for the past. It is that regret which is genuine because one turns from sin to righteousness. Jesus did not claim that the neces- sity of moral regeneration was not already recog- nized. Indeed he was surprised that Nicodemus did not perceive the need of being born again. " Art thou the teacher of Israel and understandest not these things ? " This was an earthly thing, a thing of earthly knowledge, for which no revelation was required. Not only Jews, but other peoples, knew as much as that. It was not a Jew who said, "I see and approve the better, but follow the worse." Jesus saw the need more clearly than others saw it. He saw that superficial changes in outward conduct and custom were not enough, that political changes, such as deliverance from the Roman yoke, or redistribution of property (" Who made me a judge or a divider over you ? ") were not enough. He brushed away false expectations. He traced evils, personal, social, political, the coming downfall of Jerusalem, to the moral corruption of the people. There must be the changed heart, the new birth, the new man. This is the commonplace of Christianity. Professions will not avail. " Lord, Lord, have we not in thy name done many won- derful works ? " Ceremonial religion is unavailing. SELF-IMPARTATION OF JESUS 303 " Go ye and learn what that meaneth, ' I will have mercy and not sacrifice." " Ye tithe mint, anise, and cumin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith." There must be right motive, a right spirit, a right heart, right character. This or that kind of food does not defile a man, but the evil thoughts which proceed out of the heart, these defile a man. Theo- logy has obscured the simplicity of the gospel, when it has put imputations and satisfactions in the place of renewed character. The gospel is obscured when one imagines that he may go on in his selfish ways and be saved by church, sacrament, profes- sions. The strength of Unitarianism has been due, not so much, I think, to a simpler speculative con- ception of God than that of Father, Son, and Spirit, as to its insistence on right character. The con- trasted characters, the degenerate and the regener- ate, are often put side by side in the New Testa- ment, the old man of deceitfulness and unright- eousness and the new man of truth and holiness. Jesus did not say that men are as bad as they can be. He said that all men are sinners, and that he came to call sinners to repentance, to make them free. There is only one way to be free, he said. The truth shall make you free. II The need of regeneration is generally recognized. But how is regeneration to be accomplished ? What moral power is equal to it and available for it ? There are some who think it is only through the life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ that character 304 PERSONAL REGENERATION can change the centre of gravity from selfishness to goodness. I should not care to assert that. There have been persons who lived before the time of Christ, and persons since his time who had never heard of him, whose life was right in aim and to a large extent in conduct. Such persons, in contrast with their contemporaries, so obviously present the character of goodness, that it has been maintained, by those who think regeneration is pos- sible only through the power of Christ, that they virtually have knowledge of him. It is thought that such persons, having the spirit of love, have the essential Christ, although they have no know- ledge of the historical Jesus. The explanation evidently labors. Those who advance it are in danger of forfeiting their own assumption of the necessity of the actual life and sacrifice of Christ. But the theory shows that there is real goodness without knowledge of the historical Jesus. As the ancient world and the world outside Christendom are better known, the number of good men is found to be considerable ; men who have an ideal which in some respects is true, and who in a measure realize the ideal. I content myself with the opin- ion, which is sufficient for the purposes of this dis- cussion, that Jesus is the greatest power for regen- eration, and is the only power under which masses of men in all grades of culture attain the character of goodness. If he has that power, we may disre- gard other influences, which, at the most, are capa- ble of regenerating only a few exceptional persons. The power of Jesus resides in his own character of goodness. That character, introduced intohu- SELF-IMPARTATION OF JESUS 305 inanity, is the sufficient power for all needed trans- formations. What is to be held concerning this perfect person who appeared in the fullness of time, vitally and organically a member of the race, yet the creator of a regenerate humanity, is a question which is reserved for the chapter on Christianity and Evolution. We are now concerned with the character itself, which brings moral life in its wholeness or holiness to others. And I assert that the power was himself. His life, of which his teaching was one expression, and not his teaching apart from his life, is the power of moral life and health to men. It is the uniqueness of Jesus that he realized his ideal. He is the only moralist who has done that. There are those who deny that Jesus was perfectly good. But they do not affirm that any other has been. They admit that Jesus stands far above the best men. There is no other concerning whom the question even arises whether he was perfectly good or not. The world's judg- ment is to be accepted. He was the complete realization of his own ideal. Men see in him the true humanity, free from all degeneration. The character of Jesus gives knowledge of human per- fection. Knowledge of the ideal is the first condi- tion of recovery to goodness. What man should be must be seen in contrast with what he is. In the character of Jesus is the complete and final revelation of the human ideal. He furnishes the standard by which all ethical systems are measured and judged. Philanthropists and reformers make it their task to apply the precepts and example of Jesus to society and the individual. The perfect 306 PERSONAL REGENERATION type which he presented has not been superseded, is still in advance. The knowledge of true good- ness is still gained from Jesus. Many transforma- tions are needed before society will be Christian. If it were truly Christian, there would be the ideal state. There is no other moralist of whom that can be said. One would be laughed at if he should seriously maintain that society needs to become Pla- tonic, or Aristotelian, or Confucian, or Zoroastrian. But the Christian ideal for society and the indi- vidual is still in advance. Even those who are outside the church and opposed to it say that busi- ness, politics, social relations, and the church itself need to become Christian. The ideal which Christ set before men in his own life gives knowledge of the goodness which all men should seek to realize. The presence of such a character, seen and known of men, is in itself a power for righteousness. Certainly there can be no true righteousness if men do not know what it is. At this point there is a very common mistake as to the effect of unblemished goodness on those who see it, the mistake of supposing that its only effect is to rebuke, to condemn, to discourage. Knowledge of the perfect character of Jesus only increases the condemnation of sinful and imperfect men, it is said. But Jesus declared that he came not to condemn the world, but to save the world. Therefore, it is thought, his power to recover men from sin to holiness cannot reside merely in the revelation of his own sinless and holy char- acter. It is very true that goodness by its very presence rebukes and condemns badness, but it is . fgiiviB . SELF-IMPARTATION OF JESUS 307 not to be assumed that it disheartens. Even the rebuke carries hope of regeneration. For him who does not feel rebuked in the presence of holi- ness there is no hope. Indifferent and self-satis- fied, he has no appreciation nor admiration of goodness. He does not know perfection when he sees it. But, if there is rebuke, if there is self- reproach in the presence of holiness, there is some stirring of moral life. Jesus was most severe on those who were not reproached by his goodness, who blindly or willfully misapprehended him, who hated him with murderous hate, who said he was in league with the devil. It is a mistake to suppose that perfection only rebukes. That is a wrong conception of goodness which finds in it nothing but condemnation. It is a wrong conception of the character of Jesus. It is a thought of negative perfection free from faults, clear of offense, sinless, temptationless. But absence of sin and blemish by no means exhausts perfection. The holy character has, in- deed, such exemption from faults, but holiness is wholeness, health, completeness, fullness. It has the active as well as the passive virtues. It could not have the passive unless it had the active. Jesus is known to be perfect, to be the ideal, by the whole of his life. His goodness was self-im- parting. The self-impartation of sympathy and love was the very genius of his character. The line of cleavage between holiness and selfishness divides them as sharing and not sharing. It is the deepest impulse of goodness that others should be good. This indeed is true of all intrinsic 308 PERSONAL REGENERATION values. The possessor desires to share them. They gain by sharing. Jesus would not have been perfect if he had had no impulse of self-im- partation. The reason, indeed, we know him per- fect is that holiness which was complete measured the self-giving which was complete. Without this impulse there would be a selfishness, even a con- temptuousness, in holiness, which would detract from it. Indeed, it would not be holiness at all, for holiness is love. It is sympathetic. It is a passion for goodness in others as well as in self. It values the worth of another as it values its own. The holy man sympathizes with those who suffer. He sympathizes more deeply with those who are in the bondage and wretchedness of sin. He seeks out sinners to save them to themselves and to their uses, as a physician with skill to cure disease finds his deepest satisfaction in seeking out the unsightly and loathsome, that he may restore them to health. One and another must have asked, Why does Jesus come to my house, company with me, talk with me, when he knows he will incur social disgrace and will be exposed to danger ? and they could only have answered that it was to bring them into his way of living, to save them from their sins. He sat at a publi- can's table in order that the publican might be- come an honest man. He was kind to a debased woman that she might return to virtue. He would have them estimate themselves not as others esti- mated them, but as he estimated them. He would recover them to their true worth. Goodness in sympathy is constantly self -imparting, consciously SELF-IMPARTATION OF JESUS 309 or unconsciously. Of some persons it is said that their very presence is a benediction. The phrase, we say, is outworn. But if outworn, it must have been many times true. A visit from a healthy, cheerful, refined, intelligent friend is pretty much the salvation of a family. By quick yet insensible degrees, manners, speech, tones, habits accommo- date themselves to the higher standard. From goodness virtue always goes forth. True courtesy never overawes with superiority. It always puts others at their ease. It brings out what is best. A great man does not make others feel small. He is not condescending. He is sympathetic, appre- ciative, encouraging. Greatness does not repel ; it attracts. It does not discourage ; it inspires. Greatness and goodness are sympathetic, self-im- parting. They were united in Jesus. He was the best great man and the greatest good man in the world. His perfection was a rebuke, indeed. But it was love going out in sympathy and inspi- ration to transform men into its own likeness. When a disciple saw Jesus employing power in the service of kindness, he exclaimed, " Depart from me, for I am a sinful man ; " but at the same moment clung to his feet and would not let him go. Sympathy attracts while it rebukes. The deeper its loving rebuke, the mightier its attract- ing and transforming power. A sinless, perfect man, sympathizing with sinful, imperfect men, not refusing obloquy, suffering, and death, in his consuming desire to bring them to themselves, could not pass through the world and leave it unchanged. Great moral personalities, with im- 310 PERSONAL REGENERATION perfections, have revolutionized multitudes. They have inspired faith, and men who have faith in somebody are better men. The sacrifice of Jesus is thought to be the power of regeneration. The sacrifice is regarded as something different from the character, the holiness, the example of Jesus, something which he offered to God. His sacrifice was indeed offered to God and was acceptable to him. But it was an expression of his character, not anything other and different. It was the giving of himself, nothing less than himself, his whole and very self, for men. Suffering and death were the incidents of complete self-giving. He suffered because his holiness and his call of men to a righteous and loving life brought him into collision with those whose ways of goodness, as well as of badness, he condemned. That perfect character, perfect in purity, in sympathy, in love, is in itself the power of regeneration. The virtue of Jesus is reproductive in others who will personally appropriate it, because it is the virtue of self-sacrificing love. It is a type which does not discourage, but which appeals and moves to the point of choice and adoption. Sympathy kindles sympathy, kindles response. Nothing in the world is so fitted to awaken response and hope as the living actual Christ under the burden and sorrows of life for the sake of men whom he con- demned, pitied, and loved. Such a life is not merely ideal and pattern, but transforming moral power. " Beholding, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, we are changed into the same image." Touched and transformed by him, man leaves not THE OBEDIENCE OF JESUS 311 only his old way of sin, but also his old way of virtue under prohibition and legalism. He has a new principle of righteousness which takes up all that was good in the old, fulfills the law of injunc- tions and denials, in the higher, deeper law of loving his neighbor as himself. Men see what per- fection is, and reproduce it, as one light is lighted from another. Paul's best characterization of Jesus is, that he is a life-giving spirit. The analogies of life are the most fitting to apply to the power of Jesus. Life was a favorite word of his. It is the simplest, commonest, greatest word of Christianity. Life is reproductive. The life of Jesus is repro- duced in men who are Christ-like, Christian. How life produces and quickens life is a mystery. But reproduction and growth are the most real of all facts. There is no need of minimizing the regener- ating power of Jesus, just as a perfect man, when his perfection is seen to be self -imparting, self-giv- ing, sacrificial. If there were only the record of such a life, I think it would have some such power over men in all the generations. in The perfection of the character of Jesus con- sisted, to his own consciousness, in obedience to the will of God his Father. His entire life, to its out- most circumference, moved within the circle of the thought, will, and love of God. He had nothing and did nothing apart from God. " The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father doing." This was the source of his perfection. He was the perfect organ of the will of God. His 312 PERSONAL REGENERATION object was to bring men into the love of God, to unite them to the Source of goodness and thus to bring them into character and life like his. The power of Jesus to regenerate character was his revelation of the Fatherhood of God. What ailed men was that they were away from God, and away from him not so much intellectually as morally. They had set up false gods, a distant God, a hidden God, an angry God, a God to be propitiated or cajoled into indulgence, a God having favorites. Jesus would have men understand that God has a heart, and that his own life was bringing the life and love of God to men. He actually gave the world its belief in the Fatherhood of God. It is the fact, however explained, that he changed the conception of God. He did not set aside existing conceptions, for part of the truth men had spelt out from the volumes of nature and of human life ; but he revealed the complete truth, he opened the wholeness of the truth. This he did, not by infer- ence of philosophy, nor by a broad view of history. Beliefs gained in that way could be challenged on the same grounds. The currents of history do not all run in one direction. There are suffering, cruelty, caprice, as well as prosperity and happi- ness. If the word " Father " crossed the lips of some prophet, the mysterious facts of life and the conflicting movements of history destroyed the incipient hope thus trying to find voice. Jesus revealed the Fatherhood of God. That was the revelation. It was at once received within the circle of disciples, and from them it went forth into the world. Turn from the Old to the New THE OBEDIENCE OF JESUS 313 Testament, to the writings of men who had been familiar with conceptions of the righteousness and majesty of God, and observe the frequency with which the designation of God as Father appears. Conspicuously absent from the Old, it is on almost every page of the New Scriptures. It permeates the new faith through and through. Now, only one answer can be given to the question how the belief in God's Fatherhood was created. It came from Jesus, and it was from the life even more than from the words of Jesus. His words were but the expression of his very being and character as the Son of God. There was the mystery, and also the beauty, there was the attractive, almost the compelling power of the life. His words, his trust, his vision, his judgment upon wrong, his sym- pathy, his character, his very self, revealed the life of God in him. His consciousness of God was his deepest, his abiding consciousness. All that came to the surface in expression, words spoken, deeds done, endurance of indignities, braving of igno- minious death, all welled up out of his conscious- ness of God the Father living in him, speaking and working through him, shining out in the relation of Fatherhood and Sonship. This is how the belief in God's Fatherhood came to the world. He vitalized it, just by being in the world and living out that life of unbroken union with the Father. Looking abroad, we are confused. Looking at him, we see God in the character of love. The Fatherhood of God, with all it involves, with the faith and hope it inspires, was given to the belief of men in that personality whose life was rooted 314 PERSONAL REGENERATION in God, and whose teaching, service, suffering, and triumph expressed the very character of God. Here is the regenerating power of Jesus. The life of men, their moral life even more than their phy- sical and intellectual life, is in God. The Divine character was brought to men on the side of their apprehension and contact and inspiration in the human, sympathizing, suffering, sinless Son of God. " He that hath seen me," Jesus said, " hath seen the Father." As Jesus is, in character, so God is. All this has implications concerning the per- son of Christ which need not now be considered. But Jesus did make men believe that God is a good and loving Father, who welcomes them, how- ever bad they may have been, when they return to him with penitence and trust, as little chil- dren. Jesus is the point of connection between men and God. The divine life flashes through him, becomes visible in his perfect humanity, and thrills into the life of men. With one hand he clasps the hand of man ; with the other he clasps the hand of God, and transmits the life of God to man. The life of man from and in the life of God is the true religion. It is also and therefore the true morality, for it is the life of love which real- izes one's own perfection and imparts that perfec- tion to others. IV Faith is the condition of having the new life after the type of Christ's life, of being new-char- actered, of realizing the ideal. Man is drawn to Christ, and, forsaking sin in his heart, he receives, obeys, imitates, follows him. Man sees God re- THE EVER-LIVING CHRIST 315 vealed in Christ, and, receiving Christ, turns towards God thus revealed, turning away from sin and from imperfect forms of virtue to the holiness of a child of God. So it was when Jesus was on earth, and while his memory was still fresh in the minds of those who had companied with him. So it is still. As God was then, so he al- ways is. Such embodiment, such incarnation of holy character which revealed because it had its source in the life of God, was not a temporary in- cident in the world's history. It was not a power introduced only to be withdrawn and soon to be forgotten. It was historical manifestation of eter- nal reality. Having gained lodgment in human thoughts and beliefs, it cannot be dislodged. The power of God once, it is the power of God forever- more. " One accent of the Holy Ghost The heedless world hath never lost." 1 The historical Christ is the ideal Christ, the spiritual Christ, the ever-present, ever-living Christ. So men have conceived him. Thus they have expressed their conviction that the highest moral potency must continue to energize through all changes of place and time, and through the same person, the same character, the same manifesta- tion. The ever-present, ever-living Christ is not a physical presence but a spiritual power. The Christ-revelation once is the Christ-revelation al- ways. The recorded biography keeps the image fresh. God's moral power in love and Fatherhood is conceived in the same form and responded to in 1 Emerson's Poems, " The Problem." 316 PERSONAL REGENERATION the same personal character now as of old. The mode in which the spirit and law of Jesus are ap- prehended is of less consequence than some sup- pose. It is of comparatively little importance whether he is thought of as an historical personage of the past, known only by records, or as a present spiritual power, whether as example, friend, mas- ter, or redeemer, so long as he is the revelation of God and the inspiration of life. Enough that he is still the way, the truth, and the life. That he is such to millions of men and women, that they have his character, that they trust his Father and their Father, is the great fact, and shows that his power is now in the world, at issue still with sin. Faith, I say, is the condition of having the new life which is after the pattern of Christ's life, the condition of being new-charactered. Faith, how- ever described, is simply receptiveness. It does not create nor produce. It receives and responds. An object is presented, a reality already existing, a moral magnitude in Jesus Christ. He is a leader who can be followed, a master who can be obeyed, a friend who can be trusted, an example who can be imitated. Other leaders, masters, friends, ex- amples, may not warrant implicit faith, but we can unhesitatingly put our faith in Christ. He can be depended on. He can be trusted. There need be no uncertainty in receiving and following him. " The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and they are life." " Heaven and earth may pass away, but my words shall not pass away." " He FAITH 317 that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." The receptiveness of faith is like all knowledge of truth and all use of forces. Man does not create any truth. He discovers it, receives it. Man does not add a particle to the power in existence. He adjusts himself to it, appropriates it. Faith, how- ever, is not mere passivity. Faith is the supreme energy of man in self -committal, as he puts himself under the law and spirit of Christ. The action of man in receiving and responding has been mini- mized almost to nothing, because the faith alone without its object is nothing, as if man's energy, because it is unavailing without the forces of nature, were unessential, whereas those forces are unavail- ing unless man understands them and directs them to his uses. Intellectual reception is not passive. Instruction, we say, has only to be received. But, to receive it, one must be teachable, attentive, alert. One has only to receive reproof, but, to receive it, he must be humble and repentant. To receive Christ by faith, one must make himself over, in his whole purpose and energy, to the law and leading of Christ. As a strong personality dominates another intellectually, inspiring him with the zeal of knowledge, or influences his char- acter, so Christ dominates his followers through the faith which his perfection and love inspire. Faith is conscious and active reception. The response of a seed to the warmth of the sun is real but unconscious. It is merely vital reaction and correspondence. Faith which receives and re- sponds to moral truth is conscious in almost all 318 PERSONAL REGENERATION respects. Keceiving Christ one sees the ideal, the character, the person. He is not compelled but attracted. He intelligently chooses. Thus alone moral results are secured, in freedom, willingly, earnestly. One responds with all his moral and intellectual powers. Faith increases. There is finer and broader ap- preciation of Christ and so increasing receptive- ness. Christ unfolds new meaning, beauty, moral power. The Christ of childhood is the babe, the boy, the youth, the teacher, the friend. The Christ of manhood is the sympathizing, self-sacrificing, suffering, overcoming Saviour. He takes on new forms. He appeals to faith at various points of need and aspiration. The way it seems is that duty is more various, that there are more needs of the world to be satisfied Christianly, that the law of Christ can be applied to more relations and con- ditions. He is always in advance, leading the way however high it may go, however far it may pro- ceed. He is never passed nor surpassed. The per- ception of this is the increase of faith. Faith is, therefore, the principle or condition of all the several virtues, because it adopts that type of character which includes them all. Faith work- eth by love ; works out, energizes in love, which was the principle of Christ's life and which ful- fills the law. Faith is represented by one of the writers of the New Testament as developing into all the virtues. Add to your faith, virtue ; and to virtue, knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance ; and so on through the list. It is not, however, addition, as if one virtue were completed and then CONFLICT AND RECIPROCITY 319 another added to it. The Greek word signifies development. It is eTn^o/o^y^o-are, and suggests the harmony of a chorus. In faith are all the har- monious parts, the chorus of the virtues. Not add, as rendered in the Received Version, nor scarcely supply, as in the Revised Version, but in your faith have the harmony of virtue (manliness), knowledge, temperance (self-control), patience, godliness, love. Faith works, energizes. When the type of char- acter which is Christian comes into existence, it is not complete. It develops. Life means growth. Outlying areas which had been barren are re- claimed to fruitful ness, like a field which had run to weeds and must bear successive crops in rota- tion, to become fertile. When the ground is first turned up and sown the field is reclaimed, but the cultivation of each season increases its productive- ness. Growth is the simple and significant figure employed in the Scriptures. It means the develop- ment, the evolution of the character which is re- generated. VI What, now, is the method of realizing the per- sonal ideal in actual life ? There are two methods ; conflict and cooperation. In almost all, if not in all cases, there is con- flict. There is resistance of temptation and oppo- sition to evil. Few, perhaps none, escape. This method is so common and so continuous that some suppose it is an essential condition of virtue, and that in some form it will continue forever. It is said to be unthinkable that there are moral choices without the thought, and in a degree the entice- 320 PERSONAL REGENERATION ment, of evil. However that may be, there cer- tainly is at present, while character is immature, conflict varying with different persons and in dif- ferent circumstances, but never wholly absent. It takes two forms ; resistance of temptation, and antagonism to the wrong conduct and custom of others. Resistance of temptation is one's conflict with himself. It is an inner struggle. It is due to the appeal of impulses which should be denied. The physical appetites have a demand, which, in its place and proportion, is legitimate. The demand becomes a temptation when it craves satisfaction in disproportion and excess, and for the sake of the gratification. To yield to such a demand is wrong, for it is degeneration from the normal type. This could be followed out with other desires, such as covetousness and selfish ambition. These de- sires have become strong by reason. of a false esti- mate of character. The process of overcoming by conflict is the recovery of the man to his normal or ideal state. The craving for a stimulant, for ex- ample, significantly called unnatural, disturbs nor- mal conditions. It is abnormal. By conflict and struggle the craving is overcome. The unhealthy demand ceases by enforced abstinence. Possi- bly, character may have been strengthened by the successful struggle. Now the abstainer is in his normal state. The sensuous desires are easily sub- ordinated by the nobler desires, unless the body has become diseased, in which case there may be a ter- rific struggle even when resolution is supported by correct physical regimen. With some persons, also, CONFLICT AND RECIPROCITY 321 the physical passions are strong and clamorous, so that a good man may have to struggle hard against them. But, usually, resistance of sensuous temptations is easy to a good man. He has little trouble in making the physical a servant of the intellectual and moral. The desire to possess material values may present more persistent and insidious temptation, especially when they are highly esteemed by large numbers in the commu- nity. Selfish ambition may give more trouble still. It is, proverbially, the last infirmity of noble minds. Overcoming temptation restores the man to himself, in true proportion of passions, appetites, and desires, according to the ideal of character in worth or perfection. The necessity of inner conflict evidently lies in degeneration which is not instantly corrected. But conflict is not essentially and always neces- sary to virtue. Temptation diminishes as one approaches the ideal more nearly. The more vir- tue the less temptation. Should the character of virtue become symmetrical in all respects, there would be little or no temptation. The more a scholar is absorbed in his work, the less desire he has for pleasures and indulgences which draw him away from his work. He is, indeed, impatient of all interruptions and interferences. As tempta- tions lose their power, one is not weaker in virtue but stronger. Conflict and struggle are simply curative. As one becomes healthy physically or morally he ceases to be aware of temptation to ex- cess in self-indulgence. As character approaches the normal type temptation is a vanishing quantity. 322 PERSONAL REGENERATION This is the correct view of inner struggle, a view clearly expressed in Scripture as deadness to sin. The Christian becomes dead to sin. It makes no appeal, elicits no response. He is impervious to it, dead to it, just as one is said to be dead to music, dead to beauty, dead to ambition. They have no interest, attraction, or even meaning. Al- most every one is able to say of some enticement which once was strong, That is no temptation to me now, I am dead to all that. Real freedom has no conflicts. It is not merely power to choose be- tween right and wrong. It is complete, constant, glad, unfettered choice and realization of the right. Character conformed to the ideal in right proportion is perfectly free, like a machine, which when it moves according to the law of its structure is said to play freely, but when it is out of gear is said "to labor. Since the tendency of charac- ter strengthening in virtue is to the reduction of temptation and struggle, conflict must be regarded as a temporary method of realizing the ideal. The other form of conflict is opposition to the evil of the world. The good man fights against it. Various wrongs, injustices, vices, and crimes he would remove. He is opposed to them, he rebukes them, he wage's a warfare against them. The re- former is engaged in a battle. He gains victories and suffers defeats. Opposition to evil strengthens his own character in goodness, though that result is not the reformer's object. But again we find, on analysis, that the tendency is to cessation of conflict. The evil attacked is the perversion of other persons from the normal character. The CONFLICT AND RECIPROCITY 323 good man who is condemning and opposing evil is endeavoring to recover others to the true ideal, so that they shall not degrade themselves by yielding to the temptations of the lower. He would have them become like himself. He would bring as many as possible to their true status. As they become virtuous there will be less evil in the world. Enemies will be converted into allies. Complete victory may be a long time coining. The struggle may continue through generations and centuries. But in the new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness there will be no conflict with evil. All will be regenerated. All will be recovered to the normal type. There will be no inner conflict with temptation and no outer con- flict with evil. It cannot be held, then, that con- flict is a necessary method of realizing goodness. For a time, for a long time, it is necessary. But a society wholly recovered to the normal, ideal type will have no struggle with degeneration and its temptations. The conjecture that in the perfect society, that is, in heaven, there will be some form of conflict is groundless, although harmless. The conjecture is made because goodness, at present, is realized in part by struggle against temptation and evil. The surmise has to assume the existence of evil in the universe somewhere. But if evil is reduced till it is removed, that is, if degenerate persons who are in the universe become regenerate, there will be no inner conflict and no outward antagonism with evil. If some evil is persistent, that is, if some persons are incorrigible, the useless conflict would 324 PERSONAL REGENERATION cease. Nothing would remain but disapproval of them. If the incorrigible should perish, as some believe, there evidently would be no conflict. The conjecture becomes still more attenuated in the fancy that there may always be conflict among the good. It is surmised that the saints will vie with one another in services of love, and in honor will prefer one another. But this reduces itself, logically, to the absurdity of complete inaction, al- ready noticed. Love goes out in service, therefore each would give the other opportunity of service, would not selfishly prevent it by rendering service himself. So each would do nothing, in order that another might have the joy of serving him. There will be reciprocity of service according to power and need, but no conflict, no emulous anticipation or abnegation. The most that can be expected as continuance of conflict or struggle is the active, in- tense energizing of goodness. Knowledge is gained by effort, and is increase of virtue. Dr. Newman Smyth says : " Even the striving of a pure spirit with God for more knowledge and light, although sinless and blessed, would be of the nature of a con- flict ; Jacob's wrestling with the angel of the Lord is typical of all moral winning of blessing, although only in a sinful being need there be left the mark of the conflict on the hollow of the thigh. . . . We may well imagine that in a matured and perfected moral life the life of an archangel that excels in strength the glorified spirit shall discover ever new and higher revelations of the divine which will call forth all the energies and flame of its being for their mastery." l 1 Christian Ethics, pp. 246, 246. CONFLICT AND RECIPROCITY 325 This is very beautiful and also, no doubt, very true ; but that kind of energy is not conflict, unless there is some vestige of laziness to be overcome, and which no archangel can be supposed to have. The energy of the scholar in the pursuit of know- ledge is not a conflict with any opposing tendency. The energy of an archangel is the energy of repose, of perfect tranquillity, like Goethe's image of rest : " 'T is the brook's motion, clear without strife, Fleeing to ocean after its life." And Jacob was not an archangel. We conclude that conflict is one method of real- izing the ideal, so long as evil is in the world, and so long as the normal type of character is not real- ized according to one's capacity. Afterwards there will be growth without conflict. Power and ca- pacity will increase. The child will become the man. The man will mature and broaden forever. The good man will not stop growing. In that sense, he will never attain absolute perfection. But he may cease to have any conflict with the temptation to go wrong. The other method of realizing the ideal is the method of reciprocity, the method of giving and receiving. I am to give to another or to do for another what he needs and I can give. I am to receive from another what I need and he can sup- ply. In an imperfect society, goodness consists more largely in giving than in receiving. In a perfect society, satisfaction and progress are se- cured by equal reciprocity. This is well suggested by division of labor according to special functions. 326 PERSONAL REGENERATION The artist does for others what they cannot do for themselves, and devotes himself to art. So of the poet, the philosopher, the manufacturer, the arti- san. And they in turn are served by the others. One cannot produce all sources of his own satis- faction. But he can appreciate and appropriate on many sides. Those who adopt the law of mu- tual service are, in the present imperfect society, more directly engaged in giving than in receiving. There are so many who suffer and are ignorant and perverse, that the good man is under the law of ministration, at the cost of relinquishing some grat- ifications and pursuits which are legitimate. But, even so, he receives in many ways. Every one needs to be dependent on others, and to be aware of it. The church distinctly provides reciprocity, in mutual edification and fellowship, as hand, eye, foot are mutually dependent. Even in respect to material goods, there must be cooperation. No one is sufficient to himself. On the higher grades of knowledge, counsel, example, culture, beauty, it is the true goodness, as it is the true greatness, to receive as well as to give. As the Christian ideal of persons in society is more largely realized, reciprocity will become the prevailing method of virtue. Cooperation increasing and resistance to temp- tation diminishing because temptation loses power, is the tendency. There will be more reciprocity and less struggle until cooperation becomes the prevailing method. The gradual replacement of conflict by reciprocity is not the replacement of ac- tivity by inaction, but of one kind of activity by CONFLICT AND RECIPROCITY 327 another and a higher. In discharging the func- tion which is most congenial to each, the most in- tense energy is exercised. To discover and inter- pret the beauty of the universe, or its reason and adaptations, or to trace the philosophy of human history, or to produce the harmonies of music, are tasks which summon the most profound reflection, the most refined appreciation and sympathy, and the most tense effort. Such activity is spontane- ous. Work becomes play. Any who suppose that absence of conflict means monotony, may see in the variety of interests, tastes, aptitudes, talents, in society, and may see in the corresponding recipro- cities of ministration, that conflict against the ab- normal and against the evil which comes from it is a lower form of activity which will finally cease. Browning's poem " Rephan " wins approval be- cause Rephan is a place of negative conditions, where there is no evil, no defect, no excess, a state of passive and monotonous equilibrium. The ex- citement of struggle is preferred. The Rephanite becomes weary of his planet, and is sent to the Earth, " Thou art past Rephan ; thy place be Earth." But there is no such planet as Rephan. Goodness is not inert and inane. It is energetic. It is full- ness, not emptiness. Representations of heaven too often contrast it with earth only by absence of evils and struggles, a place where Sabbaths have no end. The thought of Jesus returning to the glory which he wished his disciples to behold, is of a life of holiness and love and service. Under 328 PERSONAL REGENERATION other conditions, he is the same Jesus there as here. Different persons are under different methods. Some are engaged in conflict. Some are engaged in cooperation. It has been said, with truth, that it is -harder for some men to be decent than for other men to be saints. As life goes on now, it is not easy to decide which is the more admirable character. But we could not be content that any one should always be struggling in conflict. We are content that all should forever engage in the reciprocities of knowledge, beauty, and love. The character whose keynote is symmetry, and not con- flict, has been called idyllic. The keynote is peace ; peace with self, with others, and with God. It may have been gained by conflict conquering peace, or there may have been only such conflict as may be compared to the pure water of a spring bubbling up through white sand : " Endowed at birth with a temperament that turned to the light as instinc- tively as a flower turns to the sun, that shrank from the touch of sin as from the defilement of pitch, that knew no distinction between the inter- ests of self and of others, its various impulses are so finely tempered and exquisitely adjusted to each other that their spontaneous play is virtue, without having to be forced into becoming it." VII It may be added that the method of realizing the personal ideal is the positive method. Faults are corrected by the cultivation of virtues. The new pushes out the old. Direct repression Js._ THE POSITIVE METHOD 329 re. The leaves of an oak cling to the branches until late in the spring, when other trees are green with foliage. The winds and storms of winter could not tear them off, but they are pushed off by the propulsion of the new buds at the base of the stem. That is a type of the new moral life supplanting, and gently, but irresistibly, pushing off the old. The lusts of the flesh are subdued, not by severe repression, not by holding them down with an iron hand, not by scourgings of them till they bleed, but by the power of the new life. " Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfill the lusts of the flesh." The discipline of asceticism is a dismal failure. Into the house which is empty, swept, and garnished, the evil spirits return with sevenfold force. The strong man armed keepeth his palace in peace, but when a stronger than he comes upon him he is overcome. Eegeneration supplants degeneration. Paul never loses the joy of the new life of faith and freedom, nor does he ever lose the surprise of it. The great discovery was then and still is a perpetual wonder, ever re- curring as the life of faith springs up again and again in those who receive Christ. There is then the Christian character, which is a unique type, in whatever conditions or national- ities it may appear, as crystals may be large or small, burnished or incrusted, yet all cleave at the same angles and respond to the same tests. It is a type superior to all others and not to be super- seded by any other, since it has the elements of absolute worth. In any individual the character may be only imperfectly realized, but the ideal 330 PERSONAL REGENERATION which is perceived and embraced is the perfect ideal. In kind, in principle, in type, the Chris- tian character is perfect and complete. This has been the verdict of every age, and is the verdict of our own age. Disputes over doctrine, creed, theory, do not disturb the judgment of the world respecting the Christian character. It stands out in contrast with the various forms of selfishness which successive periods have produced. It is an ideal commanding admiration in modern as in an- cient times, and finding fresh embodiments in men and women of faith, of independence, and of self- sacrificing love in every generation. Whether it appears under Christian nurture, gradually disen- gaging itself from that which is foreign to it, or bursts out with suddenness, almost with violence, throwing off chains of bondage, it is the new, the living, the perfect type of character. It is inspired and created by Christ. If any man be in Christ Jesus he is a new creation. So it was at the out- set. He was the source of the new life. There were various explanations. It was faith ; it was obedience ; it was imitation ; it was discipleship ; it was sympathy ; it was consecration ; but no mat- ter how described, it was some sort of vital relation with Christ. He was the original source of the life. To this day the explanation is the same. The Christian is a creation of Christ. The phrase of explanation matters not. Call it teaching, in- fluence, or example ; call it sacrifice, redemption, salvation, regeneration ; enough that the unique character can be accounted for by but one cause. And this new life is a life of sonship with God. THE POSITIVE METHOD 331 Christ's own life in God revealed God to the world. God was in Christ, disclosing himself in such ways that the life of son ship, with its faith, its hope, and its love, replacing the old life (old because full of the elements of decay) by the new life (new because ever fresh and strong), was capable of production and reproduction forever. CHAPTER XIII SOCIAL REGENERATION ECONOMICS PERSONAL regeneration is manifested in society, and might be traced to its social results in the manifold relations of men to one another. From these relations I select two for particular notice, because they are the most important social forms, because they show progress most plainly, and be- cause at present they are among the principal subjects of discussion and conversation. One is economics, and the other is social institutions. I devote a chapter to each, taking up economic pro- duction and distribution first. A phrase which has recently obtained currency calls for brief remark. This phrase, social eco- nomics, although frequently used, I regard as loose and inexact. The production of material goods is not social. The producers do, indeed, assemble under the same roof or in the same field. But the work over which each worker bends is not social. It is divisive. Modern industry proceeds by divi- sion of labor, each workman taking his own little part and passing it on to the next. Combination is in the brain of the inventor who contrives a machine which in its many parts is fed by many men, or in the brain of the manager who appor- ECONOMICS AND ETHICS 333 tions out the work, assigning to each his task. The organization of laborers into unions is not necessary to the performance of work, but is in order to determine the amount of wage, that is, the share of the product each shall claim, to fix the number of working hours, to prevent injustice, to provide mutual benefits, and so on. The aggrega- tion of laborers gives opportunity for association, but work itself is not socializing. However, the relations of laborers with one another and with employers are so easily facilitated by aggregation, and the sharing of products has so much to do with social welfare, that, for convenience, indus- try and economics may be regarded as forms of society, although in themselves they are purely material and actually divisive. And, at all events, social regeneration is closely dependent on the conditions and products of industry. It is evident that economics cannot be separated from other interests. It certainly is not out of re- lation to ethics. There may, indeed, be necessary laws, iron laws they are sometimes called, of politi- cal economy. The observed method of mechani- cal production, the transportation of products from place to place, the function of money as facilitat- ing exchange of values, the proportion of profits and wages, are governed by economic laws which are independent of moral conditions. They con- stitute a mechanism, like the structure of an engine. Morality has nothing to do with the flow of gold from one country to another, nor with the price of cotton. But production itself is deter- mined by a variety of social and moral interests. 334 ECONOMICS Wants control production. There are, it may be, certain necessary wants, such as food, clothing, and shelter, which must be supplied, whatever the moral condition of society may be. But even those wants vary greatly in different civilizations. The enormous social difference between the no- madic life of hunting and the settled life of agri- culture is simply a difference of food. The con- trast of rude skins with silk and broadcloth is only a contrast of clothing. From log hut to cottage, from cottage to villa, is from one to another kind of shelter. Then there are numerous wants besides the so-called necessaries of life. Many of these are moral wants. The mode of production and transportation, and the equivalent money value, are merely the method of making and getting the thing. But wants intellectual, aBsthetic, moral, religious wants occasion production. Economics tells how a piano is made, but an aesthetic want calls for the piano. On one side of a book are printing-presses, which are run by steam-engines, supplied with ink, fed by paper, directed by labor ; but on the other side of the book are knowledge, culture, education, readers, and an author. An intellectual want sets the press in motion. A church is planned by an architect who has a com- mission, is built under a contract by paid laborers, who use stone and iron quarried by other laborers and brought from a distance by ship or rail. Every law of economics, it may be, plays a part. But a religious want makes the laws active; political economy is employed by belief in God and immor- tality. Compare the wants of an American with MATERIAL VALUES 335 the wants of an Asiatic workman, to see that do- mestic, intellectual, moral, political, and religious conditions determine the time, the wage, the quality, the skill, and the value of labor. Social regeneration, then, or, if the term is preferred, social progress, is in close relation with econom- ics, affecting it and affected by it. Social progress has a material side. Labor, wages, and wealth may tend either to the degeneration or to the re- generation of society. What we are to consider is not a theory of political economy, but the relation of material production to the welfare of society. We shall see that there are three relations of the material to social welfare, all of which are found either in practice or in theory. The first is wrong, the second is mistaken, the third, I think, is correct and right. II The first relation is found in the undue exalta- tion of the material, either as an end in itself by mere possession, or as supplying material wants and desires. This exaltation may be by compul- sion or by choice. It is by compulsion when the entire energy of life is necessarily directed to gaining the subsistence which is needed to pre- serve life. Poverty, threatened with starvation, is supreme exaltation of the material by compul- sion. Large numbers are in this condition. They have all they can do to keep soul and body to- gether. The existence of a considerable number of such persons is a source of degeneration. It is the wrong kind of life. Two opinions about it are not possible. The only question is, How may fUSIViRSITT) 336 ECONOMICS they be raised out of that state into a self-support which will enable them to attain the higher values of life, a question more easily asked than an- swered. The supreme exaltation of the material is by choice in the case of those who are raised above poverty and whose aim is to amass wealth for possession or to expend it on sensuous and selfish enjoyments. The supreme valuation is placed on wealth. There are some, there are many persons, how many cannot be known, who appraise life at precisely this estimate. The strength of this valu- ation is seen in the deference paid to the wealthy even when the deference can bring no possible advantage, in the facility with which the doors even of aristocratic society are opened to the nouveaux riches, in marriages for money, in the political power of the millionaire. Exaltation of the material is not confined to those who are suc- cessful in gaining wealth, but is found with every amount of actual possession. It is obviously con- version of means into ends. It is as obviously a degenerating and vitiating tendency in society. The second relation of material to social values is expressed in the view that the controlling factor in progress is material welfare. It is maintained that economic conditions must be rectified first and that moral improvement awaits and follows such rectification. This is the view of nearly all socialists. They do not regard the equalizing or the common sharing of possessions as the end. They hold that division of products in proportion to the work of each person is a means to the MATERIAL VALUES 337 higher ends of knowledge, culture, art, domestic and social life. But they insist that these higher ends cannot be gained while material conditions are unequal and unjust, that, although the few may realize the higher values, the many cannot, and that even the few amass wealth under condi- tions so unjust that their own character is vitiated and sordid. It is therefore believed that effort should be mainly directed to economic reconstruc- tion, to the replacement of competition by combi- nation through some scheme of profit-sharing or of State-ownership of land and the tools of produc- tion. They maintain that when, and only when, industrial equalization is secured can the masses have the leisure and the means for enjoyment of the higher values of culture, art, and society. All that is needed for material comfort can be pro- duced, it is thought, with half the labor and there- fore in half the time now expended. But under existing conditions, in which the masses toil from ten to sixteen hours a day to gain a bare subsist- ence, it is useless to expect any real improvement. The gospel to be preached is therefore an eco- nomic gospel. This theory is advocated by Mr. John Beattie Crozier in his interesting volume en- titled " Civilization and Progress." He represents material and social conditions as the controlling factor in progress. By social conditions he means political rights and class distinctions. The mate- rial, he holds, is at the bottom of all. Climate, soil, population, and occupation are material con- ditions which give rise to political inequalities, as between the chief and his followers, and, through 338 ECONOMICS the subjugation of tribes, to the hierarchy of emperors, kings, nobles, burgesses, menials, and slaves. These political inequalities give rise in turn to social distinctions of high and low born, of educated and illiterate, of refined and vulgar. And out of these social inequalities arise those moral inequalities of rights, privileges, duties, and obli- gations which it is the object of civilization to remove. As customary morality is a result of these conditions, there must be equalization of the material, political, and social conditions, beginning with the material and working upwards, in order that there may be higher morality. He says: " On the one hand, there are those who think that civilization is to be best advanced by primarily addressing the hearts and imaginations of men, by appeals to their consciences, and exhortations to duty and self-sacrifice, or, in a word, by the preaching of morality; on the other hand are those who believe that it is to be best advanced ~by ameliorating the, material and social conditions of men, in the belief that, out of the improved conditions, the higher morality will arise of itself. Speaking broadly, we may say that the Church represents the view that civilization is to be best advanced by the preaching of duty and morality ; the State, the view that it is to be best advanced by improvement in men's material and social con- ditions." 1 To the latter of these views he gives his own firm adhesion. He contends that moral- ity does not produce improvements all the way down, but that material, political, and social 1 Civilization and Progress, p. 378. MATERIAL VALUES 339 equalization produces morality. His philosophy of civilization reverses a familiar saying, to make it run, Seek ye first all these things, and the kingdom of God and his righteousness shall be added unto you. The third view of the relation of material and moral is that they are mutually dependent. The material is one factor of progress, but it is not the only factor, and is not an independent factor. If material conditions are wrong, they cannot be made right all by themselves, but only as other conditions are also made right. When economic conditions are manifestly wrong, efforts may need to be directed earnestly to their rectification. But the terms, right, and wrong, are moral terms used in view of injustice and of exclusion from the higher uses of life by poverty. Economics has not developed independently. As already said, wants determine production, and wants are political, so- cial, intellectual, moral, and religious ; which is the same thing as saying that man, every man, is a physical, intellectual, social, moral, and religious being. His physical needs are what they are be- cause he is more than an animal. All the factors work together, and always have worked together. An ideal is before men, and they demand the time and the material possessions requisite to the reali- zation of the ideal. Not wholly by pressure from below, from those who are half fed and scantily clothed, does the equalizing of material conditions proceed. Sympathy goes down to the less fortu- nate and does away with injustice of slavery and ill-paid labor. Education is made general by those 340 ECONOMICS who already have it. A sense of justice has moved philanthropists and reformers. Democracy has been extended by the influence of the enfranchised, as well as by the demands of the disfranchised, by the influence of the Christian ideal of society, in which there is neither bond nor free, Greek nor Jew. The modern State is due in large part to the Protestant Reformation, which maintained the right of private judgment. While it would be a mistake to suppose that morality is ever separated from physical welfare and political status, it is equally a mistake to suppose that material and civic conditions are separate from moral ideals. The two mistakes assume that humanity is in com- partments which can be shut off from each other. When humanity is seen to be an organic whole, and every man, in body, mind, and soul an organ- ism, such mistakes are not made. The moral ideal is the fullness of physical, mental, and moral life. There is no real improvement in any part unless there is right proportion and adjustment to the whole. This interdependence is corroborated by facts which appear as we revert to the first two es- timates of the material values. It will be seen that the facts do not run exclusively on the lines of either of those estimates. We pass, therefore, to a consideration of the three relations of economics to ethics. in The first estimate, which exalts material posses- sions to the supreme place, is not the estimate of all, nor even of the majority, and has fewer defend- ers in theory than it has in practice. To some by MORAL VALUES 341 compulsion and to some by choice the material is supreme, but, taken together, they constitute a mi- nority. Of those who engage in manual labor, some fraction, perhaps a tenth, possibly but not probably a sixth, are struggling against or suc- cumbing to poverty. Above that line are multi- tudes of agriculturists, craftsmen, traders, weavers, spinners, who have or if they choose may have higher objects for which their gains are used. Home is an object. The education of children, the affairs of the community, the newspaper, some knowledge of science and literature, the social life of the neighborhood, the trade -union, holidays, Sundays, the church, are objects. Consider, for example, the number of church-members in the United States. In the Protestant churches there are not less than fourteen millions. These repre- sent more than half of the population, as children are not, as a rule, included. Not many of these millions are poor. The church in its preaching, teaching, and activities is an important interest to them. It means social life. It means pure and happy homes. It means a good degree of intelli- gence. It is not true that these people hear the gospel of brotherly kindness on Sundays and go on toiling, moiling, grasping, cheating all the week. The great mass of them are honest, faithful, kindly, domestic, mutually helpful. I am not asserting that all of them realize the purest type of religious character, but I do affirm that they have higher in- terests than physical subsistence. Work may con- sume time in the eight, ten, or twelve hours of the day demanded by the industrial occupation. But 842 ECONOMICS the amount of time devoted to work does not de- termine its relative importance. It might as well be said that because it takes three hours to prepare a dinner and only thirty minutes to eat it, there- fore the cooking is six times as important as the eating. Morality goes into the work itself. Many workers realize that they are contributing their part to the support of their fellow-men, and have interest in doing good work as well as in obtaining wages. They may receive less than their share. There may be needed a more equitable division of products. But under existing conditions there are higher than material objects for manual laborers, and there is conscientiousness in work. Take again those who are wealthy. Some of them indeed exalt wealth to the supreme place, but not all serve mammon. With too many wealth is the be-all and end-all, but there are many also who use wealth as means to secure higher values. How otherwise could there be all the culture there is, and science, and music, and art, and statesmanship, and philanthropy, and colleges, and schools, and churches ? To many wealth is simply that which makes such things possible. Addition to wealth is not cared for if it is to be had only by sacrifice of the other interests. For many, also, luxury is not the principal use of wealth. Indeed, those who expend money lavishly on luxurious appliances, just to have horses, yachts, liveried servants, a valet for every guest, to have appointments more elaborate and imposing than those of royal palaces, to eat from dishes of gold, to load themselves with jewels, to gorge themselves with dainties and soak MORAL VALUES 343 themselves with drink, are secretly despised by sensible persons. Wealth has deference, it is true, a servile and contemptible deference, but it is not the only value that has deference, nor the value that has the greatest deference. There is an aristocracy of letters. Concerning those who are most highly honored, cultivated educators, broad statesmen, honest judges, eloquent preachers, de- voted philanthropists, skillful physicians, eminent authors, poets, and artists, questions as to their wealth do not even arise. Neither do all the facts, as I have intimated, run on the second line. It is not true that progress must always wait for improved material conditions. For, in the first place, it has not so waited. If economic conditions, as some maintain, are as bad as possible, if the industrial slavery of to-day is worse than the legal slavery of yesterday, how is civilization to be accounted for? Whence came home, education, laws, freedom, and religion ? If the present economic system is intrinsically wrong, how is it that so many other things are right and good ? That the industrial system needs improve- ment no one thinks of denying. But it is folly to suppose that all other values and improvements depend on economic reform. Perhaps the laborer should toil only eight hours instead of twelve, and should have three dollars instead of two for his day's work. But, in either case, he has his duties, affections, faith, and ideals. Although he works twelve hours and receives but a dollar, he loves his child. When he stands, silent and tearful, over the dead body of the child, you respect his grief 344 ECONOMICS and try to express your sympathy. " One touch of nature makes the whole world kin." The material is not the controlling, although it is an essential factor, in personal life and in society. And, in the next place, why is the improvement of material conditions desired ? Why, as the advo- cates of this theory agree, it is that men may enjoy higher values. But they must have had some ex- perience of those values in order to desire them. Men are moral beings. They come down to the material circumstance from the moral ideal, and desire to be better fed, better clothed, better housed, in order that they may realize the ideal more fully than they have done. It is the higher want felt and partly satisfied which demands the comfort and time needed for its better gratifica- tion. Mr. Crozier himself traces progress along two lines, which he calls horizontal and vertical. The horizontal line is the equalization of material, political, and social conditions till all are on the same level. But there is also a vertical line. " The upright vertical movement," he says, " is seen in the gradual rise of men's ideals ; " from the ideal of brute courage up to the ideal of military prowess, and from that up to the ideal of the pre- sent day, " when the most serious sections of the most civilized nations have as their ideal that in- tellectual power which, in its many different as- pects, has produced all that is great and admirable in civil and national life." The lower ideals, he thinks, have passed away or are dying out ; " and now, mental power, in its many various applica- tions, whether as practical wisdom, political saga- MORAL VALUES 345 city, artistic, literary, or philosophical power, is su- preme." l So he holds that there has been a double movement, the upward rise of Ideals, and the lateral extension of Justice and Rights, and he proceeds at once to argue, inconsequently, that equalization of material and social conditions pre- cedes and produces the higher ideals. But in the end, he cannot avoid the conclusion that the ideals are the causes, and the equalization the effect. He says, in direct contradiction of his own premises, that " advancing knowledge and the diffusion of culture among all classes are gradually equalizing men's social conditions ; the application of this knowledge to the arts of life, and the wealth accru- ing therefrom in industry, merchandise, mines, and ships, are gradually equalizing their material condi- tions." I am not concerned to confute the theories of Mr. Crozier, and have noticed them only to show that social regeneration is not to be expected by so simple a device as industrial adjustment. Man does not live by economics alone. He does not advance horizontally on an economic level only. Extensive equalization is by intensive ideals. Man must be fed in order to live, and he must live in order to be a good man. . But food does not pro- duce goodness. There are such creatures as com- fortable sinners and full-blooded fools. Progress is not by bodily pressure from below so much as by moral and spiritual attraction from above. The higher men raise the lower men. " If you would lift me you must stand above me." The higher in man raises the lower. Having recognized 1 Civilization and Progress, p. 396. 2 Ibid., p. 410. 346 ECONOMICS the subordinate but essential place of material factors in human welfare and progress, we may now notice certain characteristics and incidents of economic conditions which are sources of degen- eration and which should be rectified. IV Some, perhaps most, of the evils and dangers which are incident to the existing system of pro- duction are due to the exaggerated value placed on wealth. Their removal, then, as we shall see, de- pends on higher standards more than 011 improved methods. The chief defect of the modern economic system is supposed by many to be competition, which in turn is due to the inordinate desire for wealth. At the door of competition are laid insufficient wages, excessive hours of labor, pauperism, corruption of politics, colossal fortunes giving almost despotic power to a few individuals, and other evils too numerous to mention. I am not disposed to deny that some incidents of competition are bad, nor do I deny that the method itself is necessarily accom- panied with such incidents. But I am not sure but that, under such checks as democracy may put and has put on it, it is the best system under which wants can be supplied, at least for a long time to come. Unchecked competition produced the Man- chester school of political economy, with its iron law of wages, its employment of children and women in exhaustive and unhealthy occupations from twelve to sixteen hours a day, and its let- alone principle of laisser faire which imposed COMPETITION 347 oppressions and cruelties that cried to heaven. It was really a protected competition. The power of the State was behind it. Boasting of freedom, it was pure despotism. At length England extended her protection to the workingmen who were her subjects. Hours of labor were limited by law. Safety of life and limb was required. The labor of children and women was reduced and in some in- dustries forbidden. The organization of labor for its own protection was legalized. The method of competition was so much restricted that the worst evils disappeared, while the principal advantages were preserved. Every Parliament passes addi- tional measures in the interest of workingmen. In America, the legislatures of the several States afford ample protection to laborers, and by direct taxation distribute a large share of the profits of industry among the people. A democracy has almost un- limited power to prescribe conditions on manufac- ture and business, and to tax the gains. That some evils still attend the competitive method is undeni- able. The greed of gain cannot be wholly pre- vented from taking undue advantage. Some of the alleged evils, however, are chargeable to the incapacity and vices of laborers rather than to hard-hearted and hard-headed competition. Yet these in turn may be due partly to the grinding oppression of the system. The alternative of restricted competition is pub- lic ownership and control of industry ; the people, that is, the State, appointing managers at fixed salaries, who shall assign work and distribute pro- ducts. The State already owns and controls some 348 ECONOMICS of the easier industries, the post-office, highways, schools, and, in some communities, the telegraph, the railway, water, and lights, the conveniences which all the people require. But when the alter- native is presented as between private and public production in all branches of industry, it may well be doubted if the time is yet ripe, or even in sight, for transferring all kinds of business from indi- viduals to the State. The advantages of enterprise under the incentive of profit are too great to be lightly relinquished for the uncertain results of public management. It is universal testimony that competition has cheapened staples, has invented machines which multiply products, has provided the means of world- wide transportation and com- munication, has enlisted science in the service of industry, and has thereby encouraged science itself. To substitute public control for private enterprise, we should be very sure that the mod- erate fixed compensation of officials would be suf- ficient incentive to inventiveness and economical production, or that public spirit would be a mo- tive strong enough to be trusted, or that all, the inferior as well as the superior, would be contented with the work assigned and the shares of product distributed, or that indolence would not take ad- vantage of assured support to swell the mass of pauperism, or, indeed, that all these conditions would not exist. We should not overlook the pos- sibility that a despotism might arise, seeing that thus far in the history of the world there have always been large numbers who work only if they are forced to. Penalties, prisons, and poorhouses COMPETITION 349 might abound more than they do now. What seems to me probable is that the industrial func- tions of the State will somewhat increase, espe- cially in control of natural monopolies which do not allow competition, but that it will be a very long time before private ownership and manage- ment can be dispensed with. The overproduction which attends competition is less likely to occur with increasing knowledge of harvests, products, and markets, that is, of supply and demand. The combination of capital into trusts and syndicates which crush smaller competitions must keep prices down to a point which renders competition im- possible. It prevents overproduction, and it is exposed to legal checks under democracy. That competition is attended with some evils must be admitted. But mere change of method cannot insure perfect justice unless men themselves are changed, and when men generally are so changed that public spirit may be trusted to secure material welfare, it will make little difference what the method is. It should be observed that the many who carry on business are not conscious of competition with each other. They buy in the cheapest and sell in the dearest market, but the whole process is im- personal. The individual employer does not fix the amount of wages nor the hours of labor, but is governed by the state of the market and by the rate and time which obtain in the entire industry. Some are under the system but do not approve it. Multitudes fail of success under it. Many are not covetous, but are generous in the use of gains, and 350 ECONOMICS intend to use their wealth for its highest purposes, as well as to promote to their utmost power the welfare of those whom they employ. Those who commit themselves over, body and soul, to compe- tition for gain, degenerate into hard and sordid characters. The evil, in that case, springs quite as much from the inordinate value placed on wealth as from the method by which wealth is gained. I do not defend the existing economic system in all its features. I am aware that it has developed from conditions which were quite different condi- tions, in which there was less of private and more of common ownership. It is to be expected that important changes will yet occur. But the changes which are needed will come about by slow evolu- tion, not by rapid revolution. One of the most im- portant considerations is the fact that the advance of civilization has gone along with the possession of private property. Progress has accompanied increase of ownership, and especially increase in the number of owners. Under proper restrictions, it may be believed that progress will continue to rest on the same basis. If history teaches any- thing, it teaches that common ownership and pro- duction would be a backward step in civilization. Among the specific evils which arise from eco- nomic causes is the overwork of many persons. There are some industries, in which the competi- tion is sharpest, which demand too much work at low wages. The sweating system is one form of overwork. Legislation will, in time, correct this SPECIFIC EVILS 351 evil. Consumers may do something to correct it, by refusing to buy at places where goods are too cheap. There is a necessary limit to the re- duction of hours in all the industries. The mar- gin of time that can be saved is less than some suppose. Reduction from fourteen to twelve hours a day is easier than from twelve to ten hours, and reduction from ten to nine is easier than from nine to eight. The nearer the practicable minimum is approached the slower and smaller must be the diminution, as increasing the speed of an ocean steamer from twenty to twenty-one knots requires more coal and engine-power than increasing from ten to fifteen knots. Working-hours may be re- duced by the cessation of some kinds of manufac- ture. People might do without some things they now have. Here again, however, there is a minimum of wants which cannot be passed without reducing civilization, in culture, art, beauty, "and comfort. Too little production is reversal toward savagery. But overwork is degeneration, and it may be prevented by legislation, by public opinion, and by the demands of organized labor. Pauperism is closely connected with economics, although few would claim that it is entirely the re- sult of industrial competition. Sickness, old age, improvidence, vice are causes which cannot in all cases be traced even indirectly to the greed and competition of capital. But much pauperism is due to overwork in amount or in strain, to under- pay below the value of the work, and to the un- healthy conditions of mines, factories, or processes of manufacture. Moral sentiment now obliges the 352 ECONOMICS management of industry to provide healthy con- ditions, and so far forth pauperism is reduced. There is also an economic corrective in accumula- tion and insurance from savings made by individ- uals, or by societies of laborers, or even under provision by the State. Labor organizations do much to reduce pauperism. The direct treatment of pauperism is partly economic. Indiscriminate aid is no longer given. Those who can work must work. And the system of industry affords oppor- tunity of taking up any the least amount of productive labor, and of making the poorest partly self-supporting. Even in respect to overwork and underpay, a sound economy may and should see that it is better to reduce work and increase wages than to be loaded with an enormous burden of taxation in support of those whom the system of business has pauperized. One good result of the advocacy of old-age pensions in England is the ex- hibition of the vast amount of poor-rates collected by taxation. The tendency of philanthropy and of legislation is to reduce pauperism to the aged, the infirm, the diseased, and orphans, that is, to those who are actually incapable of self-support. The reduction goes on by setting the lazy to work, and by correcting those incidents of the economic system which induce pauperism. It may be doubted if socialism would have a lighter burden, or if, under any economic system, the ancient saying will for many centuries become obsolete, " The poor ye have always with you." I mention only one more evil which may fairly be attributed to the exaltation of wealth, the evil CORRECTION OF EVILS 353 of municipal and legislative corruption. This, for the greater part, is venal corruption. The extent of the evil is measured by the millions of dollars obtained by officials as patronage, extortions, ex- actions, and frauds. It is by the use of money that gigantic trusts and corporations obtain the legislation they desire. The evil is greater in America and France than elsewhere. There is no reason to doubt that the evil is temporary, for in England and Germany municipal and legislative corruption is almost unknown, and bribery of vot- ers is uncommon. The American people are at last aroused and indignant in their demand for reform. Economics finds in part its own cor- rective. The cost of political corruption is too great to be endured even by long-suffering tax- payers. Morality protests against the protection of vice by money. The majority value honesty above gold, and will in the end have cities and States well governed even if the cost is increased. VI The correction of those evils which flow from overvaluation of material goods can be found only in subordination of wealth to higher values. Dom- inance of higher standards is the only possible recovery of proportion. Laws, votes, paper Uto- pias, will not secure adjustment and regeneration. They are effective only if they express sentiments as to the true objects of life. So long as wealth is the supreme object, the skillful and shrewd will outstrip others in the race, no matter what the economic system may be. A change of tariff on 354 ECONOMICS foreign goods does not make rich men poor. When it is once arranged and known they adapt themselves to it and make their business profitable. Let a socialistic scheme be put in operation and warranted to run twenty years, and, provided there is no other change in society, the men who are rich now will be rich then. The only regeneration is in the higher standards of knowledge, science, art, culture, politics, family-life, and religion. Thus only can the individual be saved from the corrosion of covetousness. A man of business who does no more than to make a study of the laws of finance and currency as affecting national prosperity is the better for it. One who collects pictures, or a library, who belongs to a literary club or an histor- ical society, or is a member of a school committee, or of a charitable association, or engages in the work of a church, no longer makes the material supreme. The church is the salvation of many business men by giving them a human and social interest, quite apart from its religious inspirations. In rural communities it is about all there is to save men from the narrowness of mechanical and com- mercial pursuits. It has ennobled men and women of all grades of culture and in all occupations. The agnostic who queried whether it was right for him to attend church concluded that the harm he might do by appearing to sanction beliefs he did not hold was more than offset by encouraging an institution which rendered good service to the community. Every individual who has a keen in- terest in something higher than the material is so much gained to social regeneration. He is dis- CORRECTION OF EVILS 355 posed to open those higher interests to others, to bring literature, art, music, history, science, to the whole community in which he lives. The higher values he shares. The material values he keeps. Unselfishness takes the place of selfishness. Soon he is disposed to make his wealth a means of good to others. Those also who are engaged in manual labor can be saved from the degeneration of work- ing for material good only by caring more for those higher goods of knowledge, of the family, and of religion which are as open to them as they are to the rich man. In sharing such values dis- tinctions of rich and poor become insignificant. To promote simplicity of personal, household, and social life is to promote social regeneration. Lavish expenditure on dress, table, residence, en- tertainment, is a crude and barbaric display of wealth. The social life suffers when people vie with one another in costliness of viands and deco- rations. Those who have only moderate or even considerable means cannot afford to entertain on such a scale, and gradually withdraw from society. To exercise and enjoy hospitality is a means of grace. But it fails to gain its object when leaders set the fashion of extravagant display. The evil has, to be sure, a tendency to correct itself. There is a limit to physical endurance. The weariness of twelve-course dinners and the rebellion of the di- gestive apparatus may work a partial reform. The social reductio ad absurdum is a company of dys- peptics, who have been brought to their bad estate by a long succession of unassimilated feasts, ranged around a table to spend two or three hours trying 356 ECONOMICS to eat that for which they have no appetite, and which will cost them a night of torture. There can be simplicity of entertainment without sacrifice of good taste. Good taste, indeed, is always sim- ple. Vulgar display is bad taste. One of the triumphs of civilization is the elevation of eating and drinking to a social function, with interchange of thought and the sparkle of humor. But there is reversion to barbarism and almost to savagery when a feast is a feed at which men gorge them- selves. Plain living and high thinking are better than plain thinking and high living. Fashion is dictating simpler and briefer entertainment. It encourages dinners of six courses which can be served within an hour, and which consist of good roast beef and other dishes which disclose their nature to the naked eye. This merciful change is partly in the interest of human endurance, but is partly the recovery of hospitality to its uses. A woman of unlimited wealth determines to entertain in such ways that she can invite the clergyman, the professor, and the author, with their wives, and so that they in turn can invite her to their houses, for unless they can entertain her, they cannot with self-respect continue to accept her invitations. She will not be deprived of the society of the most in- teresting people by asking only her rich neighbors, but by simplicity of entertainment will make it easy and pleasant for those in the highways and hedges (that is, authors, professors, and clergymen) to come in. I think, at least I hope, I am not wrong in the opinion that fashionable society is coming to stand for aesthetic and intellectual values, in CORRECTION OF EVILS 357 music, art, and culture rather than for mere eating and drinking. The exaggerated estimate which in America has been set upon mere wealth and its display is declining somewhat in favor of more correct standards. Parade and ostentation are not good form. Wealth can no longer give carte blanche to architects, artists, upholsterers, caterers. The ideas and taste of the owner must appear in the new house, the decorations, the furnishings, the entertainments. There must be quiet and chaste effects, with nothing tawdry, showy, and whole- sale. Wealthy people wish to be distinguished for other reasons than because they have a pot of money. It is beginning to be seen that possession of wealth is the very cheapest distinction, that universal devotion to money-making marks the newness of a country and should be followed by better attainments. The rich man identifies him- self with a reform or charity, is patron of a col- lege, is a collector of rare books or etchings, ini- tiates some social experiment with his workmen, does not forget that his father was a professor or preacher, thinks better of himself because his son writes a clever story or his daughter's water-colors are on exhibition at the Academy. All this is at a good remove from vulgar display. The simplicity of taste and culture for which I plead is not cheap bareness. I am not arguing that money should be spent sparingly or not at all on luxuries, but only that they should not be the luxuries of physical indulgence and vulgar ostentation. Beauty and luxury are legitimate. 358 ECONOMICS Their absence would be a lowering of civilization* and a loss to all classes. Subtract from labor all those manufactures and handicrafts which provide luxuries, and many skilled pursuits would disap- pear. It is better that some individuals should be wasteful than that demand for luxuries should cease. Increase of wants is progress. Increase of wants and increase of wealth beget each other. The many live now as the few lived a century ago. What was luxury then is necessity now. The wealth which one expends, perhaps with mis- giving, on luxuries, is his to expend only because there is a constant demand for luxuries. If all in the prosperous classes should devote the money now spent on luxuries to the direct support of charity and religion, in an incredibly short time they would have no money to give, for they would destroy some of the conditions on which the exis- tence of wealth depends. Shall the church have a spire ? The spire does not keep out rain or cold. In this world of poverty, suffering, and wickedness, why spend money on a spire? But if the place where rich and poor meet together should be beautiful, the home should be adorned, and the life refined. And so the question is not about having a spire, but about the kind of spire ; not about the enjoyment of luxuries, but about the proper enjoyment of luxuries. The precious vase of ointment was not wasted, although it might have been but was not sold for three hundred pence and given to the poor. A beautiful and attractive home is a perennial source of social regeneration. It is common to CORRECTION OF EVILS 359 ascribe the easy or doubtful morals of some per- sons to reaction from the strict religious training of their childhood, and no doubt a severity un- mingled with gentleness was much at fault. But youths have broken loose from high standards of conduct more on account of the poverty of home life on the side of beauty and enjoyment, than by reason of undue extremes in religious teaching and requirements. Homes without books, with- out pictures, without comfortable seats, without amusements, without hospitality, homes distin- guished chiefly for economy of furnishing, table, and dress, were the real sources of reaction. A good deal of money may be judiciously invested in a roomy, handsome house, ample grounds, taste- ful decorations, profusion of books and periodi- cals, choice pictures, and the entertainment of friends. When money can be commanded it is immoral to surround children with haircloth furni- ture, unadorned walls, hideous carpets; to have them sit at table in silence, meeting no guests, and with no reading but the daily newspaper, the denominational weekly, and the " Farmer's Jour- nal." The other extreme is equally bad ; to build and furnish a house only with a view to great entertainments, but without providing a cosy, comfortable centre. One of the most noticeable gains of the last twenty years is the improvement in household decoration. Whereas formerly ugli- ness and tiresome uniformity were the rule, and it was difficult to find materials for a tasteful in- terior, now for a moderate outlay the most pleas- ing effects in form, color, and combination can 860 ECONOMICS be produced. The uses of money to enrich and* beautify life are the uses which promote the wel- fare of society. Simplicity, dignity, and beauty are among the saving powers of the world. They mean a higher value than mere possession and display. They convert wealth into means of the highest good. Wealth becomes the servant and not the master. The first and most important step in regenera- tion, so far as material goods are concerned, is right use. The individual can at least control the expenditure of his income. With his home, his hospitality, his books, his culture, and his friendships, he can enrich his own life and the life of others. The next step is to gain wealth by methods which are right, and which do not con- flict with the rights of others. The individual cannot entirely control the methods of business. But, as the determination to make gain rightfully extends and strengthens, the system itself will be rectified. The intention to make best use of gains reacts favorably on the methods of acquisition, and even tempers the desire for wealth. I have given a chapter to material conditions as affecting society in its moral evolution because the subject engages so much attention at present and because the relation is so important. It is evident, however, that the material, as to gaining and using, is only one of the forms through which the social ideal is to be realized. Taken by itself, it has car- ried us directly to estimates of higher values. We have seen that the gospel of economics is one phase of the gospel of the kingdom of God which is the CORRECTION OF EVILS 361 true and complete ideal of society. And so the saying which expresses the theory that material conditions are the controlling factor in progress must be reversed and put back again into its origi- nal form. We may not say, Seek ye first all these things and the kingdom of God shall be added unto you. Jesus said truly, " Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness." If we seek that, not only will the material things, of which, God knows, we have need, be added unto us, but they also will be instruments to advance that kingdom which is the divine ideal of human society. CHAPTER XIV SOCIAL REGENERATION INSTITUTIONS SOCIOLOGISTS differ somewhat as to the classifi- cation of social institutions. It is held that the old classification into Family, State, and Church is not true to the historical evolution nor to the actual structure of society ; that the Family is not so much a distinct institution as a form preceding all insti- tutions, and entering organically into them. Some would add economic to domestic, political, and ecclesiastical forms. It would carry us too far away from the purposes of this discussion to con- sider these questions of classification. For con- venience, the three great institutions or forms of society just mentioned may be chosen as adequate for the further illustration of social regeneration. First, the Family. The monogamic family is an evolution. The primitive condition was probably polygamy, in its two forms of polygyny, more than one wife, and polyandry, more than one husband. The chief cause of polygyny was excess of females over males, either by birth-rate or by reduction in the number of men through the dangerous occupa- tions of hunting, fishing, and warfare. The chief cause of polyandry was excess of males over fe- males, either by birth-rate, or by female infanticide, THE FAMILY 363 or by migrations in which there were fewer women than men. In a tribe, the power of the chief gave him numerous wives, but in that case other mem- bers of the tribe might have only one wife, or even none. The capture of women in war increased the number of wives, but men in conquered tribes would then have fewer wives. The approximate numeri- cal equality of the sexes limits polygamy. The average number of wives or husbands must be determined in the long run by the proportion of males and females. Various causes tend to monogamy. The numer- ical proportion of the sexes is one cause. The change from hunting to agriculture, from a no- madic life to a permanent abode, is another cause. The prolonged period of infancy, love of children, and jealousy are causes. Professor Drummond, in his account of the evolution of the mother and the evolution of the father, shows, somewhat ideally, yet on a sufficient basis of fact, the evolution of the monogamic family. While material and politi- cal interests affected this development, it has been, on the whole, a moral evolution. Limited poly- gamy was a great moral factor in social progress. At every period the status of the family marks the moral condition, either degenerate or progressive. The theory that the original relation of men and women was promiscuity lacks evidence. Affection, property-right in women, and jealousy would not allow common possession of women. Even in ani- mal societies, there is mating and pairing rather than promiscuous relations. Neither do facts sup- port the theory. Temporary changing or loaning 364 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS' of wives is low morality, but is not promiscuity, for ownership is not relinquished. And, in cases where there is no claim to possession, there has been degeneration from previous polygamy or even monogamy. 1 At all events, whatever in the relation of the sexes and in reproduction is worthy the name of progress is towards the type of the monogamic family, the union of one man with one woman for life. The strong civilizations developed that type. Long before the time of Christ, the Jews had abandoned polygamy. There were many evasions of law. It was easy for a man to put away his wife. But the wife had her rights. She was en- titled to a bill of divorcement. And a man could have only one wife at a time. Among the Greeks and Romans, the wife was distinguished from the mistress, although, to be sure, the mistress was often the more cultivated and influential woman. Yet, in the time of the worst sexual immorality, the monogamic family was the ideal, and did not lack beautiful illustrations. At the present time, no other family is recognized either by law or pub- lic sentiment. In all civilized countries, sexual relations outside the marriage of one man to one woman are regarded as illegal and immoral. Civ- ilization and progress rest upon the preservation and purity of the monogamic family. There is a marked, and, as some think, an alarm- ing tendencyto degeneration in the modern family. The outward sign of retrogression is frequency of divorce, which in some States of the American 1 The History of Human Marriage. By Edward Westermarck. THE FAMILY 365 Union is as high as ten per centum of the mar- riages each year, and in no State is less than three per centum, except South Carolina, which does not permit divorce. Wherever law is relaxed divorces increase, as in Germany and Scandinavia. An- other sign of degeneration is the extent of sexual immorality on the part of married men. It is al- leged that the large majority of those who keep mistresses and support houses of ill-fame are hus- bands. It is also alleged that many wives ignore or are even indifferent to such license, from aver- sion to bearing and rearing children, which would interfere with their life of fashion and pleasure. The city is unfavorable to domestic life. At the upper end are the demands of society and business, with the relegation of children to maids and gov- ernesses, and early banishment to boarding-schools and academies. At the lower end are small and squalid tenements, frequent change of abode, work of women and children in factories and shops, the trade-union meeting, the engine company, the regi- ment, the lodge, the saloon. Domestic life is re- duced to two hasty meals at the same table and not always so much as that, and sleeping a number of hours under the same ceiling or in the same room. At the upper end are marriages of con- venience (convenance) without affection. At the lower end are marriages of impulse, passion, and improvidence. All over America and England, in city and country, workingmen meet in clubs, asso- ciations, and saloons, where they do not take their wives and children. Residents in university set- tlements regard it as one of the most discouraging 366 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS facts in the habits of the average workingman that he is ashamed to be seen in any public place with his family. The Continental beer-garden has at least one redeeming feature ; fathers, mothers, and children are found there together. I need not indicate in detail the evils which threaten the family and the home. It is evident that the purity and happiness of the home are of the first import- ance to the welfare of society. Where there is contented domestic life in millions of homes nearly all social evils are absent. While all things hold together and the bad estate of the family is due in part to untoward circumstances, still the home is a cause as much as it is an effect amongst social con- ditions. A direct work to be done is in respect to laws of marriage and divorce. There is no doubt that facility of legal divorce makes the family insecure ; that, if the causes were reduced and investigations were more careful, quarrels would be composed or would not arise, and there would be fewer ill as- sorted and hasty marriages. This is an instance in which law may do much for morals and happiness. There will probably be, in the United States, in- creasing strength to the reaction against frequent divorce, and a nearer uniformity in the laws of the several States. Indirectly, the value of the family and home are enhanced by those sentiments which exalt other interests above wealth, which favor marriages of affinity in tastes, character, and affections, and which discourage marriages for money and position. Indirectly, also, whatever improves the condition THE FAMILY 367 of laborers and of the poor, whatever gives more permanence to residence, more comfortable dwell- ings, better education, healthful and innocent amusements, promotes the welfare of the family. Children in happy homes are not only hostages to fortune ; they are hostages to all the best interests of society. A returning current of population to the country would be favorable to the home. Whether it is true or not that life in remote rural districts is healthier or more natural than in the cities, a question I will not introduce, a reflux from the crowded, noisy city to the suburbs is decidedly advantageous to families of small or moderate means. The privileges of the city, and the quiet, the healthf ulness, and the open spaces of the coun- try are combined. This movement of population is facilitated by the electric railway and the bicycle, and will doubtless be promoted by other means of rapid transit. There is a natural limit to the num- bers of people who live in cities in proportion to those who live in the country. That limit is not yet reached. But it will be found, sooner or later. The United States will always be, to a great ex- tent, an agricultural country, and perhaps t9 a larger extent in the future than in the past. Pros- perity depends chiefly on the crops. One year's yield of corn makes the difference between hard times and good times. Farmers, on the whole, are more prosperous than other classes. So far as the rural and suburban population increases, so far will the home retain and regain its importance. But there is no reason, in the nature of the case, 368 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS why towns and cities should be unfavorable to the home. It may be expected that over-crowding and unsanitary conditions will be prevented, and that the decided advantages of the city will promote rather than hinder the domestic life. The home is the ideal society in miniature. It is under the law of reciprocal service. Each has his right and his duty. The strong serve the weak. The baby, not the strong man, is on the throne. One who, when full-grown, demands service, re- verses the order of nature and of love, and is con- temptuously called a great baby. To maintain a true home, to be charged with the nurture and education_oj_children,jto engage as husband, wife, father, mother, child, brother, sister, in services of mutual helpfulness which are expressions~ot mutual love, is to bear a large part in social regejT- eration. The family is one of the most important organs of the kingdom of God. II The State. Like the family, the State promotes and is promoted by social progress. It is an organ of social regeneration and is itself to be con- stantly regenerated. By the State is meant the political organization, having a constitution and laws. It is not to be identified with the Nation, which, as defined by Professor John W. Burgess, is "a population of an ethnic unity inhabiting a territory of a geographic unity." 1 Such a terri- tory is one bounded naturally by the mountains or the sea. This unity is modified as a nation spreads 1 Political Science and Constitutional Law, vol. i., p. 1. THE STATE 369 beyond natural geographical boundaries, and as a dominant race assimilates other races. The Eng- lish nation includes the American States. The German nation includes the German and Austrian empires. The State is the political organization having a constitution and laws and ordaining the particular form of government. Thus there are two English States, Great Britain and the United States, to which, practically, Australia may be added as a third. There are two German States, the German and the Austro-Hungarian empires. I note the distinction between State and Nation because I am to consider only the political institu- tion and not the great national and racial types of civilization. The origin and historical evolution of the State I do not attempt to trace. How far it was developed from the family, how far by a con- flict between the powers and rights of different classes, how far by convention, it is aside from our present object to inquire. The evolution of the modern State is distinctly towards democracy, that is, towards self-govern- ment by the people. The power of aristocracy is reduced ; the power of the people is enlarged. There are, at present, but two forms of govern- ment ; a division of political power between an aris- tocracy and the people, that is, a partial democracy, and government of the people by the people and for the people, that is, a complete democracy. There are no monarchies, except in name. The king or emperor shares power with an hereditary nobility, and their power is shared with represen- tatives of the people. The king and nobility 370 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS constitute an aristocracy or oligarchy, so that aristocracy and democracy combined, or demo- cracy alone, are the only forms of the modern State. Every permanent change in a partial democracy is some transfer of power from the aristocracy to the people. This movement is a true evolution, for it is a movement in the line of progress and improvement. There are, to be sure, some advantages in a political aristocracy, and some disadvantages and dangers in a pure demo- cracy. But the advantage which tips the scale is in favor of democracy. The danger of despotism in a democracy, the danger that one man will gather absolute power into his own hands, is inap- preciable. That has been possible only when the people were ignorant, and war was necessary to the existence of the State and the extension of her domain : as in Rome, when the only change was a change of name from king to consul ; or as in France under Napoleon, when the people were in dense ignorance, knew nothing of self-government, expected glory from war, and were surrounded with enemies. But in a real democracy, the checks and counter-influences which exist make a despotism impossible. In America, the traditions of independence, the sensitiveness to infringement of individual liberty, the jealous guarding of legal and civil equality, the high average of intelligence, the local distribution of government in States, cities, and towns, make it almost impossible for any man to centralize power in his own hands. Add to these influences the mutual watchfulness of political parties, the diffusion of information THE STATE 371 through the press, the predominance of industrial interests, the strengthening of international com- ity, and it is seen that the danger of centralization of power in one man or in a few men is scarcely worth considering. Fear of an aristocracy of wealth is better grounded. The concentration of wealth in a few hands gives power more enormous than that of kings. In America, local legislatures can be cor- rupted by railway magnates and owners of mono- polies, and through the legislatures, which elect the national Senate, the general government can be controlled. Yet, on the whole, democracy is more likely to check this tendency than to be over- come by it. The people are watchful and alive to the danger. Legislation may be thwarted for a time, but will be effectual in the end. The power of taxation is almost unlimited. In fact, there is more danger that legislation will place weights too heavy for legitimate enterprise to carry than that an aristocracy of wealth will take political power away from the people. As to the tone of morals and the manners of people under the two kinds of government, it is so difficult to make comparison, except by a careful examination of social as well as political conditions, that I do not even attempt it. Amongst the mem- bers of an aristocratic class, the code of morality may be high, but the relation of superiors to in- feriors unjust and debasing to both. In a demo- cracy, the restraining influence of a class to which one belongs is wanting, but there is more regard for the rights of every individual. In an aristo- 372 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS cracy there is more civility of manners than in a democracy, but the servile deference of inferiors is worse than the independence which, in a demo- cracy, sometimes asserts itself in an unmannerly way. At all events democracy has come to stay. It may be held as a political axiom that democra- cies do not go backward. Progress must proceed, not by reversion to aristocratic government and recovery of its shorn power, but by the intelli- gence and honesty of the people who have taken and are taking government into their own hands. 1 The State is a moral institution. Its principal functions are moral. It has been called the in- stitute of rights. It executes justice. Justice per- tains to rights, and the State administering justice may be regarded as protecting the rights of all. It does not cover the entire field of morals, but only outward acts which can be brought under uni- form rules. It does not punish falsehood as such, but does annul contracts obtained by fraudulent means, and assesses pecuniary damages. Among the rights conserved by the State are the rights of life, liberty, and property. The right to life is the right of existence, a natural right guarded by the State. It includes the right to the use of one's self, his body, his limbs, his senses, and as some hold, the rights of reputation, that is, the rights of worth and character. These rights are inaliena- ble as against other persons, and yield only for the preservation of the State when life may be risked and lost, or for crime which is the forfeiture of per- sonal rights. Liberty is the right of external f ree- 1 Civilization and Progress, 310-366. dom, to go about as one will, not to be hindered in his occiipation and not to be debarred from enter- ing any pursuit on the same conditions with others. The right of property is the natural right of man. The earth is his. As a citizen he has right in the territory of the State. As the land is the ultimate means of subsistence, it belongs to the people. How much any individual may possess and for how long a time he may hold it is determined by law. Whatever the law may be, the State is bound to defend the rights of property under it, to defend contracts, sales, transfers, use. The State is also bound to establish rights of property according to justice, according to the welfare of the nation. If land and improvements on land have been secured under certain laws, and the laws are changed so that the State acquires possession or corporations are authorized to take the property, just compen- sation must be made. The use of property must be the means of advancing the welfare and moral order of the people, and so existing tenure may be changed. The moral order coincides with the eco- nomic order, and the particular laws of property should be on a sound economic basis. But all must have equal rights under the same conditions. Rights carry corresponding duties which are en- forced by law; such as defense of country, aid in an arrest, giving testimony to a crime. Some duties, such as voting, are not usually enforced by law but are treated as rights. Laws enacted by majority of votes may, however, be enforced by compelled service of any citizen. The justice en- forced by the State in rights and duties is equal- 874 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS ity. However unequal men may be in ability and possessions, as citizens they are equal in all legal and political rights. The symbols of justice are therefore the poised scales of equality, and the blindfolded eye which sees neither class, nor rank, nor birth. The extension of democracy is a moral extension which should include all the people in political rights and duties. The regeneration of democracy is in high standards of justice and in impartiality. That much remains to be done is evident. There may be favoritism towards man- ual laborers as well as towards employers of labor. To every man his right and from every man his duty, is the principle of good government. The State is also the guardian of morality. The family is under the guardianship of the State, not only as to support of wife and children and inheri- tance of property, but also as to purity. Marriage is legalized by the State, and so made secure. The religious sanctions of marriage are recognized by the State, so that there may be every possible safeguard. Causes of divorce are limited by law. Houses of ill-fame are not licensed, or, where a lim- ited number is allowed, as in some European coun- tries, the alleged reason is avoidance of contagious disease and restriction of vice. The intimate de- pendence of State and family is beautifully illus- trated in Goethe's " Hermann and Dorothea," a story of the betrothal of two lovers of different nationalities who were thrown together by acci- dent amidst the horrors of war. The State is pre- served in the founding of new families. The State regulates the sale of liquor, forbids gambling and THE CHURCH 375 lotteries, and in a hundred ways is the guardian of morality. The State also protects religion by se- curing its public observances from interruption, by protecting Sunday from encroachments of industry, by defense of personal liberty in religious opinion, and in other ways, on the ground that religion encourages morality. The intimate dependence of State, church, and family is suggested in the old war-cry when men were battling in defense of country : " For our altars and firesides." in The Church. The church is a social institution and a means of social regeneration. It has been aptly called the institute of humanity. It is not the kingdom of God, but one of the organs of the kingdom of God. The kingdom comes in all puri- fication of life and progress of society, in business, culture, art, civilization, in the family and in the State, which are also, each in its own function, organs of the kingdom. The church is the organ which most directly promotes that kingdom, as having to do with the worship of God and with the service of humanity, which is the child of God. The church aims at complete and universal regen- eration ; complete for the individual, universal for all humanity. The entire moral life and character of the individual is cultivated by the church, since religion includes all aims, motives, and con- duct. The State controls only certain outward acts in civil and political relations. Family nur- ture is confined to nonage, and the members pass from parental authority to freedom of personal 376 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS affection. The church, as the minister of religion, includes the entire moral culture of the individual and the whole period of life. Personal regenera- tion and perfection involve social regeneration in the organic life of the church. Individuals are not isolated but constitute an organism. In principle the church is universal, including all individuals. It is not limited by nationality, race, nor class. Any particular branch of the church, even if it is a national church, is, in principle, cosmopolitan in its membership. Any church may and under some circumstances should receive to its communion a person of any nationality. Con- gress may forbid the immigration of Chinese, but there would be universal consternation if by act of Congress churches should be forbidden to receive a Chinaman to membership. In the Southern States slaves were members of the churches to which their masters belonged. The early church, from the first moment, was universal. It actually included Gentiles and Jews, women and men, slaves and masters. Philemon had legal ownership of Onesimus, but was urged by Paul to treat the slave as a brother who like his owner belonged to the one master, who had purchased both with his own blood. The early church was the first inter- national institution. However narrow it may have become in practice, it has always in theory been cosmopolitan. Without the actual church as a living embodiment 'of the universal society the ideal of that society might have faded from men's minds. That organization, perpetuated through the centuries of despotism, of feudalism, of national THE CHURCH 377 wars, of political revolutions, has been a silent or indignant protest against the antagonism of races and classes. In the darkest days of its own corruption it has been a humane institution, and has been self-reforming by virtue of its own principle of universal brotherhood. Every local church has the world for its field, and, even if it is not actually gospeling in every land, has vital concern in the universal extension of the gospel. Foreign missions are a standing reminder that Christianity is the religion of humanity. The church, more than commerce, binds the nations together. The Christian church is the best ally, as it was the precursor, of democracy. The uni- versality is definitely expressed in the name as- sumed or in the creed recited. The church is not the English, or American, or Greek, or Ko- man church. It is the Holy Catholic Church. The first word of the creed expresses belief in God the Father Almighty, whose children therefore all men are. The Fatherhood of God implies the brotherhood of men. Spontaneously from the beginning Christians call one another brethren. Beside this principle of universal brotherhood dif- ferences of Protestant and Catholic polity diminish into insignificance. The one may exalt the organ- ization above the individual, giving the society authority over the person. The other may subordi- nate the organization to the individual, exalting pri- vate judgment. The one may regard salvation as flowing to the person only through the church, ac- cording to the maxim : Ubi Ecclesia ibi Spiritus. The other may regard the church as the result of 378 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS personal faith, as the company of believers, accord- ing to the maxim : Ubi Spiritus, ibi Ecclesia. The one may lean too heavily on the organiza- tion. The other may encourage excessive individ- ualism. Each may need to be corrected by the other. But in either case, the church is the soci- ety of universal brotherhood, the institute of hu- manity. The church is under the law of service accord- ing to the needs of men on the one hand and ability on the other hand. To the question, Who is my neighbor, the answer is given not by locality, nor by affinity of class, nation, or culture, but by sympathy. A neighbor is one, wherever he is, and whoever he is, who needs what I can give, or can give what I need. The church enlists strength in the service of weakness, wisdom in the service of ignorance, fortune in the service of misfortune, the saved in search of the lost. The State stands chiefly for the protection of rights on the basis of justice. The church stands for the discharge of duties on the basis of love. The family is under the law of service by an impulse of nature, within a limited circle, and too often blindly and indul- gently. The church is under the law of service in freedom and intelligence, according to the worth and need of men, and independent of artificial limi- tations. In scope, extensively, it is wider than the family and the State. In realization of the per- sonal and social ideal, intensively, it includes the entire life of human perfection. RELATION OF INSTITUTIONS 379 IV The relations of the church to the family and State should be noticed. The church promotes the welfare of the family by insistence on personal purity. It strictly forbids those vices which de- stroy the family. It consents to the disruption of marriage only for those causes which in the nature of the case destroy marriage. Some branches of the church recognize but one cause of div6rce. In States which legalize divorce for numerous causes every branch of the church maintains a higher standard. The hope of legal restriction is based chiefly on the social sentiment which the church fosters. The formal religious sanction of marriage expresses the value of conjugal fidelity and domes- tic affection. In this respect alone the church is a valuable ally of civilization. The moral and re- ligious nurture of children is explicitly directed for the home and in some measure undertaken by the church. In turn the family promotes the power of the church by infusion of young, pure life from Christian households and by the training of youth in the more personal and intimate life of the home under the law of service which is common to the family and the church, and which in the church is applied in all relations of society. Even if it could be truthfully alleged that the church has at times been somewhat indifferent to civic duties, it cannot be affirmed that marriage and the home have ever failed of the sanction of the church. When celi- bacy has been regarded as a superior condition, the purity of the home has been held sacred, and 380 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS violation of its fundamental law has been severely condemned. The disparagement of marriage was in the supposed interest of purity. The Protes- tant Reformation was self-reform of the church almost as much to honor the family as to maintain the freedom of the Christian man. The church promotes the moral welfare of the State. As already observed, democracy is chiefly indebted to the church for existence and extension. Besides that, the very presence of the church in all communities, its appearance in every new settle- ment, perpetuating the best traditions and associa- tions of the old home, means order and good citizenship. The religious beliefs of great numbers of citizens ensure honesty and purity in social life. The general observance of Sunday, which would languish were it not for the church, is of ' inesti- mable importance to all classes of people. Its value is not measured by actual attendance on re- ligious services. It is thought that the churches are losing their hold on the people because many do not attend religious services regularly. There has doubtless been a change since the Puritan period. And yet the number who never attend nor care to attend public worship is not as large as sometimes represented. After deducting young children, the sick and aged with those who care for them, and those who attend occasionally, the re- maining fraction is probably small. But however that may be, and whatever the reasons for the failure of the church to attract, it is seldom argued that non-attendance is good for people. It is taken for granted that it is bad for them. The church RELATION OF INSTITUTIONS 381 is commended for efforts to bring all the people under its influence. Neither the church nor work- ingmen will consent to encroachments, for purposes of gain, upon the seventh day of rest. It should also be remembered that nearly all the money given for the support of philanthropic and charitable enterprises is contributed by those who also support the churches, and thus the State is heavily indebted to the church. It may be added here that in America the church is the chief influence to raise life above the prosaic and sordid. We have scarcely any historic monuments, and very little that is artistic, except in the largest cities, and none too much there. En- ergy is absorbed in business and work. Religion, keeping alive reverence, awe, and sense of mystery, holding up noble ideals of personal and social life, elevates men and women above sordid narrowness. It is a serious question, in view of the considera- tions mentioned, whether stability of national life in a democracy would be secure without the influ- ence of religious beliefs, without the morality which is promoted by the influence of the church, without the Christian law which enthrones service in place of covetous selfishness. The State, also, as we have seen, renders service to the church by defense of the equal rights of all, by protection of the church in its observances, by legalizing Sunday as a day of rest and worship, and by various recognitions of Christianity, such as religious oaths, prayer at the opening of courts and Congress, sanctioning clergymen to solemnize marriage, and other customs. 382 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS Social regeneration proceeds as the church is true to Christianity. If it becomes narrow, divi- sive, formal, if it substitutes observance for char- acter and humaneness, it needs to be recovered to its true function as an organ of the kingdom of God, which is the social ideal of the brotherhood of men who are children of God. Besides the general relations of church and State, they are in specific relation as organizations. There are three possible relations; the church subordinate to the State, the State subordinate to the church, the church and the State independ- ent of each other. The first relation existed in the time of Constan- tine, who summoned the bishops to Nicaea in the hope of uniting the factions of the church. The experiment was repeated at the time of the Ref- ormation in England, where the church was es- tablished, endowed, and supported from the public revenues, and important ecclesiastical appointments vested in the crown. The Czar of Russia is head of the church. The second relation, the subordination of State to church, was the scheme of the Holy Roman Empire. The Pope enthroned and dethroned mon- archs, dissolved royal marriages, and received tri- bute from many kingdoms. The kingdoms of this world seemed to have become the kingdom of Christ. History is stained with the record of wars and revolutions that followed. The Roman Church has to-day scarcely a vestige of temporal power, CHURCH AND STATE 383 although she desires it in some of the Italian States. Calvin attempted to bring the civil government of Geneva under the control of the church in ap- pointment of magistrates and legislation. The his- tory of Europe is largely occupied with attempts more or less successful to give the church suprem- acy over the State or the State supremacy over the church. The State has cleared itself from the control of the church, but the church is not yet free from the control of the State. Disestablish- ment is a political issue in Great Britain, and is supported by millions of Christians who have withdrawn from the Church of England and have organized independent nonconforming churches. In America, church and State are separate and practically independent of each other. They exist side by side in mutual friendliness and recognition, but without jurisdiction. So far as the churches have legal rights the State maintains them in re- spect to property, contracts, and salaries, as with individuals and corporations. Some States of the Union grant churches immunity from taxation on property devoted to religious uses. The Constitu- tion of the United States guarantees religious free- dom. The sixth article provides that " no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States." The first article of amendment provides that " Con- gress shall make no law respecting an establish- ment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof." The several States have inserted simi- lar provisions in their constitutions. Six of the Southern States exclude from office any one who 384 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS denies the existence of a Supreme Being. In Pennsylvania and Tennessee a man who does not believe in a God and in a future state of rewards and punishments is ineligible for office, and in Maryland and Arkansas such a person cannot be a juror or a witness in court. But these are unim- portant exceptions which are likely to disappear. In some Territories the United States enters into cooperation with the church for the purpose of ed- ucating the Indians. Appropriations are made by the legislatures of some States in aid of charitable and educational institutions under the control of churches, but such appropriation is expressly for- bidden by the constitutions of other States. The people are jealous of any recognition of churches by grants of money from legislatures. If any serious effort should be made to exempt supporters of de- nominational schools, such as the parochial schools of the Roman Catholic Church, from taxation for public schools, the effort would be strenuously and, in all probability, successfully opposed. The hos- tility would be due to the deeply rooted conviction that church and State should be separate. The reasons for complete separation are both political and religious. It is better for the State that it should be independent of the church. The liberty and equality of citizens may not be abridged. Religious disqualification for office creates inequal- ity. To exempt certain sects from taxation, or to confer favors on them, would put members of other sects at a corresponding disadvantage. Unless membership in a denomination or religious observ- ance obviously conflict with law, as the polygamy RELIGION IN PUBLIC SCHOOLS 385 of Mormons did, there should be no interference with liberty. It is better for the church to be in- dependent of the State. The church is a moral and spiritual organization. It should not be con- trolled by State officials, who might be irreligious persons, nor supported from the public revenues, for political and material motives would be intro- duced. Self-support gives responsibility and sin- gleness of aim. The resources of an established church may give it more power to work among the poor, and the clergy may be less dependent on the favor of parishioners than is the case in free churches. But comparison of the actual working of the established church and the dissenting churches in England does not sustain the claim. The free, self-supporting churches of America are not less effective and independent than the en- dowed churches of Europe. The difference is prob- ably not very great, and is constantly reduced by the influences of modern life. The spirit of democracy with its liberty and equality, and the spirit of philanthropy in service of the poor affect all the churches, so that they address themselves more and more to their legitimate work. Demo- cracy undoubtedly tends to the practical separation of church and State, which is destined everywhere to become complete separation, but with mutual influence and friendliness. VI The relations of church and State which remain to be noticed are exemption of the property of churches from taxation and religious instruction in public schools. 386 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS . The arguments for exemption from tax on prop- erty are, that the churches promote morality and good citizenship, and that, as so great a majority of the people support the churches, there is no loss of revenue, the amount being made up by increased taxation of the property of the same citizens. An additional argument is, that it would be a hardship to impose a tax on churches which have been built with the expectation of exemption. An advantage of taxation would be the reduction of denomination- alism. There would not be half a dozen churches in communities which need only one or two churches, if a tax were levied annually. On the other hand, the immediate effect of taxation would be the dis- appearance of some churches which are needed. At present, the question is not agitated, although it may be opened at any time in any State of the Union. The American people are good-natured, and are not disposed to disturb customs which appear to be harmless. But, in principle, consist- ency requires the taxation of property held by churches. Religious instruction in public schools presents a more serious and difficult question. It is not, however, a question of the relation of church and State, because the churches as organizations have nothing to do with the schools. As the State rec- ognizes the Christian religion, reading of the Bible and prayer may be permitted in public schools. But the practical difficulty has become very great. All citizens are taxed for the support of schools, and in some States are required by law to place children in the schools. But the citizens belong to RELIGION IN PUBLIC SCHOOLS 387 various sects, and some of them to no sect. Their religious beliefs differ. Their forms of prayer dif- fer. They use different versions of the Bible, and interpret portions of it differently. Only such reli- gious teaching and observance as all accept should be permitted. But this agreement leaves only a minimum. And, in fact, religion in schools is re- duced to reading without comment from the Bible and a brief prayer, usually the Lord's prayer. Where no objection is made, this minimum may remain. But the State should be prepared to relin- quish all, if conscientious objection should arise. Eeligious instruction must be provided voluntarily in other ways. As it is, the slight modicum is quite inadequate. It is better, whether the fragment is retained or not, to have it understood that the public schools are not to be depended on for reli- gious instruction. Their function is secular educa- tion. On certain days a number of hours is de- voted to reading, writing, numbers, natural science, and other studies more or less useful. There is no more reason, in the nature of the case, why such schools should be opened with religious exercises than for opening a singing-school or a riding-school with prayer. It may even be argued, and has been argued, that the occupation of mind in secular studies is unfavorable to religious impression and feeling. But, at all events, if it is fully under- stood that the province of the schools is secular education, the churches are more likely to pro- vide sufficient religious instruction. The public schools do really facilitate religious teaching by the education of intellect and imagination. The church 388 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS is thus relieved of the task of elementary teaching and receives children prepared for direct religious instruction. I said that we must be prepared to relinquish what remains of religious observance. It may be necessary to do this in order to retain the attendance or even the support of Roman Cath- olics. If the schools are purely secular, Catholics will not have even a pretext for objecting to them and withdrawing from them. They will stand on the same footing with other denominations, and may support as many private schools as they please. When it is understood that the schools are for sec- ular education, the outcry against godless schools will be without effect, for no pretense that they are religious will be made. It is inconsistent with our principles for the State to assume religious func- tions. Reliance may be placed on the character of teachers, so many of whom are religious persons, and all of whom are required to be of decided moral character. Beyond that, in principle, the State may not go. In this matter, however, the disposition to let well enough alone will leave reli- gious instruction as it is. But when an issue is made, it should be acknowledged that the State cannot assume the function of religious teaching. The ardent defenders of such teaching in schools supported by all citizens seem to have anything but a clear conception of one of the fundamental prin- ciples of our government. VII I have dwelt on two aspects of social regenera- tion, economics and institutions. Many other ele- RATE OF SOCIAL PROGRESS 389 ments and phases of progress might have been considered, especially science, art, and culture. All these elements and aspects are included in the kingdom of God, a kingdom of related personali- ties. I have attempted only to show the direction of progress, but have made no prediction of the rate. The kingdom of God is so various that its wheels within wheels have different rates of motion, while all revolve in obedience to one great motive power. It includes many climates, many civiliza- tions, many literatures, many philosophies, many religions even. At some points outward changes are going on rapidly, at some there is torpid stag- nation, at some there is the slow, noiseless influence of custom and character. But the progress of the entire kingdom is not slow as measured by antece- dent stages in the evolution of the universe. De- votion to the good of mankind should not be determined nor very much affected by the time required for complete success. Ideal devotion would not be discouraged because there must be a century rather than a decade of toil. And yet, as various kinds of workers are needed in the com- plex movement of progress, the eager, impetuous, impatient enthusiasts, as well as the calm, broad, and patient organizers, the illusion of nearness is not always dispelled, and some tangible results are realized on the way to the remote completion, as if by a beneficent design of Him who guides human- ity on its way. Even prophets seldom had per- spective beyond their own generation, and apostles for a time expected their Lord to come again in complete triumph before their own generation 890 SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS should fall on sleep. But there are those who are stimulated by magnitudes of large and distant re- sults which they may not live to see. They are stirred by reviewing the centuries, each of which is seen to have had its own task, and by penetrat- ing the life of the nations, to find that each has had its function. Thus they learn that their plans are cooperative with a divine and eternal purpose, and they are more deeply moved than by the hope of snatching hastily what might prove to be super- ficial results. Jesus was of this temper, not hast- ening too fast, but saying more than once, " My hour is not yet come." It is the wisdom of the Christian Scriptures, not to indicate the definite time within which results will be accomplished, but rather to emphasize the nature of the need, the principle of social service, and the certainty of final success. It gives an object, a method, and a prophecy. With this inspiration we may leave precise foresight of the times and seasons with Him who keeps them in his own knowledge and toil on with patience and enthusiasm to contribute our share to social progress according to our best wisdom of circumstance and method. As the angel in respect to place, so we may say with re- spect to the time of service and the rate of pro- gress, " He did God's will ; to him, all one If on the earth, or in the sun." l 1 Robert Browning, The Boy and the Angel. CHAPTER XV ETHICS AND THEOLOGY THERE is, at present, a wide-spread prejudice against theology. If " prejudice " seems too strong a word, as implying partial ignorance, it may at least be said that many persons who profess and call themselves Christians regard theology and creeds as of secondary importance, or indeed, of no importance at all. It is often remarked that char- acter is of more consequence than belief, that or- thodoxy is not salvation, that creeds are a burden too heavy to be borne, that they are rubbish or lumber which should be consigned to oblivion. Whether this feeling is justified or not we need not inquire. A defense of theology would be too re- mote from the subject under discussion. But it is to be noticed that the disparagement of theology is, in part, on ethical grounds. The criticism is, to a considerable degree, from the moral point of view. Metaphysical opinions and abstract doctrines are unfavorably contrasted with character and life. Objection does not fasten on the erroneousness of theology, for true as well as false theologizing is under condemnation. The disparagement comes from a comparison of values. It is felt that a metaphysical should not be made more important 392 ETHICS AND THEOLOGY than an ethical value. It is held that correct be- liefs are of infinitely less consequence than correct conduct. Derogation of theology, as proceeding from the ethical point of view, is a very interesting illustration of moral evolution, and it is for this reason that I call attention to it. It exhibits a phase of moral progress ; one of the latest and best phases. The criticism, although it is some- what indiscriminate, marks both a moral and a theological advance. My object is, therefore, to show, by several illustrations, the influence of moral conceptions on doctrinal opinions. I think that nearly all of the improvements of theology are ethical interpretations. We have already seen that Christian beliefs exert a marked influence on moral ideals and conduct. Beliefs concerning the fatherhood of God, the person, character, and teach- ing of Christ, the kingdom of God, and immortal- ity, constitute the doctrines of Christianity, and affect personal and social life profoundly. Now we are to observe that moral ideals have, in their turn, modified and clarified doctrine, or, in other words, that there has been an ethical development of theology, and that contempt of creed is really the substitution of a moral for an immoral or a non-moral theology. II In the order of time Christian doctrine followed Christian ethics. Jesus was a moral teacher. Pie kept character and life constantly in view. The fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of men were the truths he taught. These truths involved corresponding beliefs, but there was no direct the- HISTORICAL REVIEW 393 ologizing. Truth was motive. Truth was for life. 44 Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." The epistles are more theological. They present a doctrine of the person of Christ and of redemption from sin. A simple philosophy of Christianity appears. But it is never separated from character and conduct. The divorce of belief from life is, indeed, severely condemned. After- wards, correct belief was made essential to salva- tion. Definite and elaborate creeds were formu- lated. Orthodoxy and heterodoxy were sharply distinguished. Anathemas were hurled against those who would not pronounce every word of the creed. Salvation depended on intellectual assent. Refinements and niceties of doctrine, oritological speculations, psychological and metaphysical theo- ries were set up as part of the Catholic faith. All this tended to a separation of belief from life. The divorce was not complete. There were real saints. Piety was not wanting. Christians were warned against self-deception. Severe disciplines of asceticism were undergone. There was much practical and beautiful charity. And yet empha- sis on correct belief was so decided that reliance was placed on orthodoxy and outward observance more than on character and holiness. Good deeds and ascetic self-denial were regarded as works of supererogation, as a surplus of meritorious acts which would be rewarded here or hereafter, but which were not necessary to salvation. With the Protestant Reformation, a restoration of the moral value of doctrine began. Too great importance was still attached to right belief. The Protestant 394 ETHICS AND THEOLOGY creeds of the sixteenth century are as long and minute as the counter creeds of the Catholics. The Puritans of England and Scotland constructed Confessions which many of their descendants are still trying to believe, and which are redeemed chiefly by the insertion of the Ten Commandments and the Lord's Prayer, and the copious quotation of Scriptural texts. At the beginning of this century creed-making was a common occupation in New England. Every church made its own creed. Deacons formulated doctrinal symbols. They brought forth from their theological treasures things new and old, with the usual consequences which follow the sewing of new cloth on old gar- ments. And yet, all along, character was made important. It was held that life must be consist- ent with belief. The virtues were conscientiously and severely practiced. Separation of doctrine from character was gradually reduced. Belief was transmuted from opinion into motive, until now, as we have noticed, it is very common for the best Christians to disparage doctrine, creed, and theo- logy, and to exalt character. There has been a return to Christ. " Back to Christ " is a sort of watchword. The church has been going back from creed to epistle and from epistle to gospel. This movement of Protestantism, which I can only suggest, but which furnishes a fruitful and tempt- ing subject, has been an ethical movement. Science, I know, has had a marked effect on belief in the miraculous, and on conceptions of God and his re- lation to the universe. But, after all, theology has been modified and rectified chiefly by moral ideals NOMISM AND ANTINOMIANISM 395 and ideas. This moral evolution of doctrine may be noticed first in the correction of immoral be- liefs and practices, and afterwards in the ethical modification of particular doctrines. ill There have been certain unethical applications (which really are abuses of Christianity), some traces of which still remain. They are at oppo- site extremes in name, but are two forms of the same thing, namely, the separation of belief from character. One is called Nomism, the other An- tinomianism. Nomism is observance of laws, legalism. Antinomianism is freedom from law, according to the principle that believers are not under the law but under grace. Only the latter has been recognized and labeled, perhaps because Antinomianism has been explicitly held and de- fended. Nomism reduces Christianity to the legal- ism of numerous rules and observances. Antino- mianism divorces Christianity from morality. An example of nomism is the early Jewish Chris- tian church, which retained some of the legal and ritualistic observances of Judaism in connection with faith in Christ as Messiah. The Jewish Chris- tians wished at first to impose the old legalism on all Gentile believers. Paul had to contend with this kind of narrowness as long as he lived. An- other example is the Roman Catholic Church of to-day, which makes salvation dependent on obser- vances, and has brought over many Jewish prac- tices into its ritual. The tendency is found in every form of asceticism, ancient and modern, 396 ETHICS AND THEOLOGY from the monastic discipline of the early and mid- dle ages to the legalism of the so-called ritualistic churches of to-day. There is a nomism of nega- tions. When religion is thought to consist in ab- stinence from certain amusements and gratifica- tions, it is reduced to prohibitory legalism. Its maxim is a saying which Paul branded as an error : " Touch not, taste not, handle not." He warned Christians against teachers who laid down such rules. The perversion of this saying is so remark- able that it is worth while to quote the passage in which it occurs : " If ye died with Christ from the rudiments of the world, why, as though living in the world, do ye subject yourselves to ordinances, , Handle not, nor taste, nor touch (all which things are to perish with the using) after the precepts and doctrines of men ? Which things have indeed a show of wisdom in will- worship, and humility, and severity to the body; but are not of any value against the indulgence of the flesh." Chris- tianity gives freedom from self-indulgence and vice by enthroning the law of love. Those who walk in the Spirit do not fulfill the lusts of the flesh. Rules and prohibitions can never, of them- selves, make a man pure and holy. A legalistic religion is immoral, because it tries to substitute a lower and self-righteous morality for the higher morality of love. The protest against it is in the name of morality. The protest is often indignant, even to anger, as in one of the letters of Thackeray : " Who says that we are to sacrifice the . human affections as disrespectful to God? The liars, the wretched, canting fakirs of Christianism, the con- NOMISM AND ANTINOMIANISM 397 vent and conventicle dervishes, they are only less unreasonable now than the eremites and holy women who whipped and starved themselves, never washed, and encouraged vermin for the glory of God. Washing is allowed now, and bodily filth and pain not always enjoined ; but still they say, shut your ears, and don't hear music ; close your eyes, and don't see nature and beauty ; shut your hearts, and be ashamed of love for your neighbor. . . . What a history is that in the Thomas a Kempis book ; the scheme of the book carried out would make the world the most wretched, useless, dreary, doting place of sojourn ; there would be no manhood, no love, no tender ties of mother and child, no use of intellect, no trade or science, a set of selfish beings crawling about avoiding one an- other and howling a perpetual miserere." 1 Gnosticism was favorable to Aiitinomianism. Some Gnostic sects of the early Christian centuries separated faith from life and practiced immorality openly. It was maintained that the gospel confers liberty, that men are saved by faith, not by works, and that therefore the physical appetites and lusts may be indulged. The idea of liberty was intoxi- cating. There was violent reaction from legalism. Apostolic warning was necessary. Peter said, You are free, to be sure ; but liberty is not license. " As free, and not using your freedom for a cloak of wickedness." Mormonism is an organized form of antinomianism. Polygamy is justified, and would be practiced but for the laws of the land. Some evangelistic and revivalistic preaching in effect 1 A Collection of Letters, pp. 95, 96. 398 ETHICS AND THEOLOGY represents salvation as independent of character. It is said that out of gratitude one who is saved by Christ will lead a pure life, but that the salvation of a redeemed sinner does not rest on his own works of righteousness. It is proclaimed as a re- cent and original discovery of the preacher, and with an emphasis intended to be startling, that a Christian should be honest, that a genuine Chris- tian will give sixteen ounces to the pound and thirty-six inches to the yard. It is a rather sad commentary on current conceptions of Christianity that any other idea of what a Christian should be ever crossed anybody's mind. I am not sure but that the antinomianism which has taken shelter under the liberty of the gospel is partly responsible for the opinion that certain persons, especially persons of genius and talent, are free from the rules of common morality ; that they may fail to fulfill promises, may incur debts which they do not intend to pay, may be intem- perate and licentious without blame ; that genius condones sin. I am even inclined to lay at the door of this old, easy-going antinomianism the notion that there are different standards of morality for private and for public life, the notion that a cor- poration may do what the individuals who compose it may not do, the notion that ordinary honesty is not required of politicians, the notion that a city may be, but a citizen may not be, cheated. Per- haps these notions are due to other causes; but, at all events, if morality had never been separated from religion under cover of the gospel, if faith and righteousness had always been regarded as cause SOVEREIGNTY AND FATHERHOOD 399 and effect, the moral standard of the community would have been higher. Whatever the forms of legalism and of license may be, it is very clear that at the present time they suffer severe condem- nation in the name both of morality and of religion. The opinion is well-nigh universal that the teaching of Christ requires righteousness and love. It is expected that Christians will be good. Character is the test of belief. Belief is the motive power of conduct. A Christian who cheats and lies, or even is ill-tempered and selfish, is called a hypo- crite. This means that Christianity is seen to be an ethical religion, and that every essential doc- trine has a moral value. It shows that there has been a moral evolution of theology. IV More definite evidence of ethical modifications of theology is found in recent changes of doctrine itself. A short perspective of twenty or thirty years, which can be covered by the memory of many of us, shows the influence of a purer and more virile morality on doctrinal beliefs. The doctrme of God has been moralized, or, if a rather barbarous term may be used, has been ethicized. The change has been from the concep- tion of Sovereignty to the conception of Father- hood. Speaking broadly, it may be said that the Latin theology made sovereignty the central doc- trine. The Roman government was a type of the divine government. Augustinianism exalted God as the great and mighty ruler. This theology yielded the doctrines of decrees, of predestination 400 ETHICS AND THEOLOGY and reprobation, and of the mere good pleasure of God as the cause of all events. There was a severe and rugged nobleness in this doctrine. Faith was unquestioning. It was sacrilegious to inquire into the reasons of the divine government of the world. But the belief created fear and awe rather than love and confidence. The Puritan, Calvinistic theology passed this doctrine on into the Presbyterian and Congregational churches. Methodism was a protest against it. One of the Wesleys said to a Calvinist, "Your God is my devil." It was an immoral doctrine. It made Al- mightiness superior to Love. When the sovereignty of God is the final resort of religious thought and the central idea of theology, the assumption is made that, in the last analysis, it cannot be known for what reasons God administers his kingdom of providence and redemption as he does, and there- fore that, so far as we are concerned, the divine action is arbitrary. When speculations and in- quiries concerning the reasons of God's dealings with men are declared to be presuming and even impious, the assumption is made that right rests back on the will of the omnipotent God rather than on reason and love which make us akin to God. When the mystery of God's purposes, rather than the revelation of his love, is dwelt upon, so that the deepest impressions are thoughts of inscrutableness, vagueness, and incomprehensible power, the assumption is made that God's omnipo- tent sovereignty controls the displays of his love and mercy. Happy are those who have received from the religious instruction of childhood, from SOVEREIGNTY AND FATHERHOOD 401 the emphasis of preaching, and from the atmo- sphere of the church's life no such misconception of their Heavenly Father, the God of eternal love. The centre of doctrine has been shifting from sov- ereignty to fatherhood. It is believed that power is directed by reason, and reason by love. Even if we cannot understand the counsels of God fully, we may not receive nor make the impression that his dealings are arbitrary. We say with the prophet of old, "Doubtless thou art our Father, though Abraham be ignorant of us and Israel acknowledge us not ; " venturing perhaps to sub- stitute the names of Augustine and Calvin. Another unethical representation of God is the opinion that there is a kind of opposition among the attributes of God, as if one attribute had claims against another. It has been represented that the justice and mercy of God seek different ends, one demanding the punishment of the sinner, the other desiring his pardon. It has also been thought that a just God requires strong induce- ments to be persuaded to forego his purpose of punishment, and that it could hardly have been expected, is forever a wonder and a mystery, that the claims of justice should be relinquished. Even then, it has been assumed that the exercise of mercy is not grounded in moral necessity as deeply as the exercise of justice. There have been theolo- gies which adopt as a fundamental principle the no- tion that God must be just and may be merciful. This means that justice acts necessarily, but mercy acts optionally. It has been held that it is morally necessary for God to hate and punish the sinner, 402 ETHICS AND THEOLOGY but only in an inferior degree, if at all, necessary that in love he should energize to save the sinner. It is almost needless to say that these notions are being abandoned. There is no conflict of divine attributes. God is the God of holy love. Love hates and condemns sin, cannot tolerate sin, visits penalties on sin, and therefore tries to restore the sinner to righteousness, goes out in sympathy and suffering to save him from the self-destruction of sin. Still another immoral conception of God is that which represents him as leaving vast multitudes of his children to perish or to sink into hopeless perdition without giving them the truth which can save them. The apprehension that some may be lost is not inconsistent with a worthy conception of God, in view of the fact that character deter- mines destiny. But the opinion that character will be unchangeably established for millions of human beings under relatively obscure knowledge of God, while other millions will be saved because they have clear knowledge, is an opinion which makes God an arbitrary and unethical Being. The moral sense revolts from such an idea. Few preachers and theologians can now be found who believe that the masses of heathendom are eter- nally lost. From the logic of the premise that the earthly life is decisive of the destiny of all men, escape is sought in various ways ; as, that all souls have the essential Christ, that multitudes of hea- then are renewed in character before death and only need the sunlight of Christ's presence to develop those seeds of holy character which have THE HUMANITY OF CHRIST 403 already begun to germinate. These lame devices show that the conception of God is changing. Theologians and others find it impossible to believe that God deals unequally with men. As it cannot be believed that the majority of men who have lived down to this time are hopelessly lost, there must be, and there really is, a corresponding change in the conception of God's character and government. This is a marked instance of the ethical modification of doctrine, or, as I prefer to call it, the moral evolution of doctrine. Another signal example of the ethical develop- ment of doctrine is found in conceptions of the person of Christ. The change has amounted to a recovery of his humanity. Until recently, the Christians of America and England, with the ex- ception of the Unitarians, believed that Jesus possessed and exercised all the attributes of God. Proofs of his divinity were looked for in the omni- science and omnipotence he was thought to have claimed. Any representation of his humanness was regarded with suspicion, lest it should be pre- judicial to belief in his divinity. If humanity was recognized, it was thought to have been only in a mechanical, not in an organic union with divinity. As his weariness, hunger, thirst, sleep, surprise, and disappointment could not be denied, a com- mon explanation was that he acted sometimes in his human and sometimes in his divine nature. His divinity and his humanity were like two spheres having only external contact. Practically, 404 ETHICS AND THEOLOGY his humanity was lost or was unreal. Such was the current conception of twenty-five years ago. But now, although there are many who retain the old view, the theologians, thinkers, and scholars of the church believe that Christ was under the ac- tual limitations of human nature. In knowledge he was not omniscient. He gained information as other men did. He shared the opinions of his time as to the universe, and in other essential respects was truly human. He had wonderful in- sight, but did not have omniscience. Theology starts now with the historical human person, and finds divinity in that which transcends human na- ture, especially in his moral perfection, in his one- ness with God, in his sonship, in his health-power, in his revelation of the character of God. I do not say that the humanity of Christ had always been ignored. The apostolic and early church, and for a long time the Greek fathers, saw divinity in and through humanity. But in later times, for several centuries, the prevailing belief was like an- cient Docetism, which regarded the human as only an appearance or seeming, or at most a mere gar- ment of divinity. Strauss' " Life of Jesus," which appeared in 1835, marked a turning-point, almost a revolution of doctrine. It created consternation, but led to a study of the history of Christ, to num- berless books on the actual life of Christ, and to the recovery of his real humanity. The great majority of Christians could never be satisfied with a purely humanitarian doctrine of the person of Christ. But now he is believed on as the human incarna- tion and revelation of the God of holy love. This TOTAL DEPRAVITY 405 is a marked instance of the moral evolution of theology. VI The doctrine of sin furnishes another example. The doctrines of total depravity and the fall of man are seldom mentioned. Knowledge of primitive men and of the progress of the race from lowly be- ginnings has changed the conception of man's orig- inal state. Knowledge of moral development and of the virtues which promote civilization has un- dermined the doctrine of total depravity. The opinion that men are guilty for sins they did not commit, and for dispositions with which they were born, is no longer maintained in the pulpit, nor defended by theologians, although that for which the theory of original sin stood is now recognized in the facts of moral heredity. Wholesale condem- nation is no longer heard. Formerly, the feelings which may finally be experienced in consequence of existing moral conditions were attributed in- discriminately to men in the various stages of a selfish life, and even to children. Feelings of hos- tility to God, of hatred of his law, of opposition to goodness, were charged upon those who were not conscious of having such feelings, and, in fact, did not have them. Tendencies which in their unhin- dered development might induce certain feelings were not distinguished from the final result of those tendencies. The fault in such representations was a failure to discriminate between religious charac- ter and religious nature. Man has a religious nature, but not on that account a religious charac- ter. Before character is established by fixed pur- 406 ETHICS AND THEOLOGY pose, the religious nature goes out at times in sweet and pure desires. Not until character has become decidedly irreligious do sinful feelings predominate, and even then better desires often arise. There- fore representations of human nature as absolutely and totally corrupt and depraved were misrepre- sentations of the facts, and were untrue to the feelings which men actually have. With such ex- aggerations false impressions concerning the feel- ings of God towards his children were given. The stern, forbidding, angry God was seen, and the love of God for his erring children was almost wholly lost sight of. But now there is a more discrimi- nating analysis, to which men respond. No one takes offense at truthful delineation of charac- ter, but every one recoils indignantly from exag- gerated representations. The assumption is now made that every man has remaining capability of goodness, that he is capable of redemption under appropriate influences. Sin is estimated, not in relation to Adam, but in relation to Christ. It is not measured by the Jewish law or prophets, but by the revelation in Christ of the true ideal of character and the love of God. The consciousness of sin and knowledge of real sinfulness are given by the truth which has its positive and highest dis- closures in Christ. The world is convicted of sin because it believes not on him who is the perfect ideal of character, but goes on in its old selfish, self-righteous, self-satisfied ways. The change is due to the replacement of a lower by a higher moral standard, of the negative law of prohibition by the positive law of love. REDEMPTION 407 VII The doctrine which has undergone the greatest modification from purely ethical influences is the doctrine of redemption from sin. Until recently the usual representations of atonement were justly open to the charge of immorality. Even now, such representations continue to be made to a con- siderable degree. The moral sense is shocked at some of the reasons given for atonement. The imputation of our sins to Christ has been so stated that it seemed as if all regard for righteous- ness had been overlooked. The penal suffering of Christ was regarded as the philosophy of atone- ment. It was believed that God laid on Christ the penalty of our sins, or a suffering equivalent to that penalty. The atonement was represented as an arrangement satisfactory to God, but incom- prehensible to us. The fact that character and its consequences cannot be transferred from one per- son to another was contradicted by the theory that Christ suffered what we otherwise should have suf- fered. It is not an exaggeration to say that atone- ment was represented as a device by which God escapes from apparently insuperable difficulties to the forgiveness of sinners, as if it would be impos- sible for God to forgive outright, even on genuine repentance, but becomes possible by reason of the sufferings and death of Christ. The love of Christ making its great way to men at the cost of suffer- ing is the motive which leads men to repentance, but has been represented as the motive which in- duces God to forgive. This disappearing theory 408 ETHICS AND THEOLOGY fails to satisfy because it is immoral, because it places salvation somewhere else than in character, because it converts the sympathy and love of Christ into legal fictions, because it places the ethical demands of justice above the ethical neces- sities of love. It is, indeed, through the self-sac- rifice of Christ that we are recovered from selfish- ness to goodness and love. He bore our sins. He suffered on account of our sins. He brings us back to God, for he reveals God to us in his real character. But that is very different from mer- cantile or forensic transference of the penalty of sin from one person to another. When the doctrine of atonement is traced through its successive phases, as a ransom paid to the devil, as the satis- faction of justice, as the vindication of divine gov- ernment, and finally as the great motive power which transforms character, it is seen that there has been a progressive moral evolution. The doc- trine of redemption through sacrifice remains, but is no longer made to rest on an unethical philoso- phy. 1 VIII One more illustration is found in the restoration of the doctrine of the kingdom. It is the doctrine of a renewed society on earth, a society of right- eousness and love. The very overworking of this idea shows how prominent it has become. The gospel of the kingdom is the gospel of humaneness. 1 It is only thirty years since Horace Bushnell's great book, The Vicarious Sacrifice, appeared. He denied all theories of a substitutionary bearing of penalty or its equivalent. A heated controversy followed. But now his views are more gener- ally accepted than any other views of the sacrifice of Christ. THE KINGDOM OF GOD 409 This recovery of a great moral value shows con- clusively the influence of moral conceptions and ideals upon theology. Sovereignty is not lost in Fatherhood, but is recovered as the divine law of righteous love ; the divinity of Christ is not obscured, but is more clearly seen shining through his humanity; sal- vation by character is not self-righteousness, but Christ in us; the kingdom of God includes the redemption of the individual to faith in God and love of his fellow-men. It is not theology, then, which is disparaged, but false, irrational, and immoral theology. So long as religion endures, there will be theology, for reli- gion rests on beliefs concerning God, and theology is simply the beliefs which are justified to reason. Religion is a moral value. Theology therefore must be ethical. The evolution of theology is both in- tellectual and moral, but prevailingly moral, since it is the science or philosophy of religion, and re- ligion is the life of faith and love. The doctrines of Christianity are still further considered in the following chapter, which closes the discussion of moral evolution. CHAPTER XVI CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION IN several of the preceding chapters evolution has been traced along religious lines. It has been seen that nature, humanity, personality, society, and morality imply religion and are also harmo- nious with evolution. It may not seem necessary, therefore, to consider more definitely the relation of the Christian religion to the observed evolution of the race. And yet, as it is supposed by some that science invalidates certain beliefs which are distinctively Christian, beliefs, too, which are thought to be essential to Christianity, I deem it best to conclude the discussion with a review of those beliefs, in order to show their harmony with the nature, history, and progress of man, or at least to show that there is no contradiction. I shall not take a defensive attitude from which to parry particular objections, but shall attempt to point out some of the large correspondences of Christianity with evolution and to suggest the continuity of pro- gress under the influence of Christian beliefs. The most general view, and the view most gen- erally taken of Christianity, is that it claims to be a revelation. The Christian religion is commonly spoken of as the Christian revelation. In the name REVELATION 411 of science this claim has been denied. The univer- sal reign of law, in the constant relation of cause and effect, is thought to exclude intervention and revelation. The denial proceeds on a mistaken view of revelation and on a superficial view of evo- lution. Revelation and evolution are two sides of one and the same reality. Physical nature, in its successive phenomena, in its laws, forces, organisms and progress, is a revelation of the power and thought of God. Science leads to philosophy of cause and end for a rationale of the universe, and philosophy leads to religion. As soon as the question How is answered, the questions Whence and Why arise. Nature is best understood as hav- ing its origin, movement, and progress in the wis- dom and power of the eternal reason. Nature is an embodiment of the divine purpose. Its phenomena, laws, and development are a revelation of God. It is a superficial view of nature which sees in it only successive phenomena and blind forces. On the other hand it is a mistaken view of revelation which sees in it only intervention, only an exceptional and disconnected breaking in upon orderly move- ment. Revelation is the embodiment of God in the very existence and evolution of nature. It is not power outside nature manifesting itself by occasional interjection, but is the resident forces and life of nature controlling and animating the universe. Nature is both evolution and revelation. An oak is composed of chemical elements taken up from the soil and atmosphere. But the oak has magnificence and beauty. Its chemical composi- tion and its beautiful strength are two aspects of 412 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION the same thing. It is a revelation and an evolu- tion. The one is in and through the other. Start- ing with evolution on the surf ace, we come to reve- lation in the depths. Starting with revelation in interior cause and purpose, we find its wonderful and beautiful manifestations in exterior effects. The Bible contains sublime representations of God as revealing himself in nature. The heavens de- clare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handiwork. The sea is his and he made it. The strength of the hills is his also. He calleth the stars by name and leadeth them out. One writer makes the fine and striking suggestion that nature is to God what speech is to thought. " There is no speech nor language ; their voice cannot be heard ; their line is gone out through all the earth and their words to the end of the world." When evolution traces the process as age-long and world- wide, it has nothing to say against revelation. Vastness in space and illimitableness in time only enhance the grandeur of the revelation. The derivation of man from lower animals, his psychical and moral evolution, may be traced in successive differentiations and attainments. The influences of soil and climate, the advance from nomadic to agricultural conditions, the stone and iron ages, the arts, sciences, philosophies, and reli- gions may be observed in relations of cause and effect. But human evolution is best understood as a revelation of the wisdom and purpose of God. Man, knowing the universe in which he lives, guiding nature to his uses, perceiving ideals of character, cultivating affection in the family, living REVELATION 413 consciously as a member of the social organism, capable of the thought of a God whom he wor- ships and loves, knowing himself thus as the crowning product of nature, is, indeed, a result which has been produced by a great number of ob- served causes, yet he knows his own evolution, he perceives his high intent, and is best explained to himself as a revelation. His body, his reason, his conscience are a revelation. The families, the tribes, the races, the nations of men are a revela- tion. Man long ago said of himself, " I am fear- fully and wonderfully made. . . . My frame was not hidden from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see mine unperfect sub- stance ; and in thy book were all my members written, which day by day were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them." As to the process, what more can evolution say ? And jsvhat can it say against the belief that man is a revelation of the thought of God? Evolution only deepens the wonder* when it shows that this creature, " how noble in reason ! how infinite in faculties ! in form and moving how express and admirable ! in action, how like an angel ! in apprehension, how like a god ! the beauty of the world ! the paragon of an- imals ! " l was once a savage or even a brute. It is a mistaken view that men first exist and develop to some given point, and that then in an external manner God makes a revelation. God could not reveal himself to man unless he first revealed him- self in man. If it should be written in letters on 1 Hamlet, act ii., sc. 2. 414 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION the sky, God is good, the words would have no meaning unless goodness had already been made known in human relations. Revelation is not by an occasional stroke, but by a continuous process. It is not superimposed but inherent. Great and unique men have appeared from time to time, and have exerted a profound influence on their fellow-men. They have been new and origi- nal causes of progress. Science affirms that they were products in the evolution of humanity, and this belief need not be disputed, although all the causes which produced them cannot be pointed out. When, for instance, it is said that Shake- speare was a product of the Elizabethan period and could not have appeared at any other period, it is rather natural to ask why there was only one Shakespeare. If the science of to-day had been stationed a half century or even a year previous to the birth of the great dramatist, it could not have predicted him. Still, the human race is capable of producing geniuses, for it has produced them. They certainly are in intellectual and sympathetic relation with the race, for their creations are ap- preciated by men. In fact, the more unique they are, in distinction from inferior men, the more universal is their knowledge of human motives and passions. Their uniqueness is their univer- sality. Now, allowing that genius can be regarded from the evolutionary side, as part and parcel of a great connected process, it may also be regarded as the revelation of a thought of God which comes to expression in actual persons, a revelation through which, also, the divine purpose for humanity is THE IDEA OF GOD 415 promoted. These men see deep into the truth of things. They interpret the realities in which God expresses his thoughts. They read God's thoughts after him and read them out to men. Hence we say that genius is inspired, for the mind which perceives truth in things must be responsive to, and so inspired by, the mind which made things the vehicles of thought. The inspirations of genius are discoveries, not creations of truth. All reali- ties, then, are revelations. Nature, humanity, and genius which is the epitome of humanity, are em- bodiments of divine truth, goodness, and beauty. As beauty is the splendor of truth, so law and in- tellect and society and genius are the out-shining of truth. Evolution, then, an observed and con- nected process, is in perfect harmony with the idea of revelation through that process. It certainly has no occasion to deny a revelation. It only asks what kind of revelation is made in and through the realities of nature and humanity. From the idea of revelation in general we now proceed to the beliefs which are characteristic of Christianity, to observe that the essential truths of the Christian religion are harmonious with the evolution of nature and humanity. II The Christian idea of God as supreme reason and perfect goodness is not only consistent with evolution, but is indispensable to it. The cause which realizes purpose in progressive development must be understood in terms of the highest part of the process, in terms therefore of personality. Mat- 416 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION ter, which is understood and interpreted by mind, expresses mind. It is not mere matter nor. blind force. The force which produces self-conscious reason is not less than self-conscious. The power which makes for righteousness is itself righteous. God is not inferior to man. He that formed the eye, shall he not see ? He that formed the intel- lect, shall he not think ? He that formed the heart, shall he not love ? God transcends man, indeed, but man does not transcend God. If, as science holds, man is evolved, and is not independent of antecedent development, it must follow that God did not first know himself in the consciousness of man, but knew the end from the beginning and all the way through in the precedent processes which led up to man. And man himself is but one expression of the self-conscious, originating God. The only idea of God to which science may prop- erly object is the idea of a God external to nature, who either constructed a mechanism which goes of itself by the agency of second causes (an unmean- ing and impossible conception) while he stands outside, an absentee God, interfering now and then to repair the machinery, or took material ready to his hand from which he contrived certain curious and useful designs. But this is not the Christian idea of God. To be sure, there have been Christians who entertained such an idea. Mechanical analogies have been employed by apol- ogists to illustrate design in nature. But such analogies were used at a time when invention was prolific and new contrivances created astonishment. Paley was a contemporary of Watt and Arkwright. THE IDEA OF GOD 417 At other times, also, human art has suggested di- vine purpose, although the analogy has been recog- nized as incomplete. But such analogy has been discredited by the profoundest reasoning of other Christians, as well as by scientists, in view of the organic processes of evolution. Latin Christianity regarded God as a Sovereign. It applied the con- ditions of the Koman State to the divine govern- ment. The analogy has held its place persistently and expresses important truth, but is now yielding to the conception of God as a Father. But the Greek fathers believed in the immanence of God and employed analogies of life. " They regarded Deity," says Mr. John Fiske, who certainly is not a prejudiced witness, " as immanent in the uni- verse, and eternally operating through natural laws. In their view God is not a localizable per- sonality, remote from the world, and acting upon it only by means of occasional portent and prodigy ; nor is the world a lifeless machine blindly working after some preordained method, and only feeling the presence of God in so far as he now and then sees fit to interfere with the normal course of pro- cedure. On the contrary, God is the ever-present life of the world ; it is through him that all things exist from moment to moment, and the natural sequence of events is a perpetual revelation of the divine wisdom and goodness." Of Athanasius Mr. Fiske says that while his metaphysic is alien to the metaphysic of our time, " yet through this vast difference it is all the more instructive to note how closely Athanasius approaches the confines of modern scientific thought, simply through his 418 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION fundamental conception of God as the indwelling life of the universe." 1 Jesus employed analogies of life and organism seeds, flowers, trees from nature ; and the organic relations the family and the political kingdom from society. I fail to perceive that the science of organic evolu- tion has any objection to make to the Biblical and Christian idea of God, as it was held by prophets, apostles, and Jesus himself, as it has always been held in some branches of the church, and as it is generally held by Christian thinkers to-day. in Take, again, the Christian doctrine of sin. The existence of sin is a fact of common knowledge and experience, and has been a problem to all ages and religions. But the Christian doctrine is es- pecially consonant with the theory of evolution. I have traced the correspondence in the chapter on Degeneration. Sin is departure from the type. It is missing the mark. It is reversion and per- version. As any species might become extinct through degeneration, so the human species might fail of self-preservation and lose its place by moral perversion. Immorality is a disease which makes men unfit to survive. Morality is natural selec- tion and makes men fit to survive. Evolution does not consist in uninterrupted progress. Some societies of men are unprogressive and retro- gressive. Selfishness, greed, cruelty, hinder pro- gress, although they are sometimes the incidents of progress. As conflicting with cooperation and 1 The Idea of God, pp. 82, 86. THE CHARACTER OF JESUS 419 mutual helpfulness they retard progress. Theo- logy has at times exaggerated the extent and the effect of sin. But the fact of sin as degeneration will not be disputed by evolution. Christianity, in contrast with other philosophies of sin, is near the facts. It does not hold to a sensuous origin of sin, nor place it in matter, nor regard it as fate, but places it in the choices, aims, and character of per- sons, where also there is power of recovery. It also recognizes and emphasizes heredity as trans- mitting moral disease, and so is in complete accord with modern science. IV Evolution has no objection to offer against the moral character of Jesus, but on the contrary rec- ognizes him as a potent cause of progress. The character of Jesus illustrates the perfect type of humanity. He was more than a Jew, more than the son of David. He was the son of Man. In one individual the human type was incarnated. Not only is he in accordance with the evolution of humanity up to the point where the perfect ideal is epitomized in one person, but also he is a cause in the progress of the race, a cause which must be taken into account in explanation of the great movements of civilization. We find something more than a character who was the fruitage of moral evolution, a human phenomenon to be clas- sified properly and which need not be further con- sidered. We find a character which, rightly or wrongly understood, has been the most potent force in the progress of the race. Therefore evo- 420 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION lution in its highest form of philosophy of history cannot rest in a negative attitude towards Jesus, in the admission that he contradicts no law of so- cial evolution, but must recognize him as an origi- nal force which has affected and is still profoundly affecting the course of moral, political, and social progress. The harmony of Christianity and evolution is still more clearly seen when the moral power of Jesus is defined as self-realization in self-love and love to others. Personal degeneration is arrested as the type of character which Jesus realized is reproduced in those who are like him. Social de- generation is arrested as love makes its great way among men in suffering, pain, and death, to bring them to their true worth and into the mutual ser- vice of love. The law of love diminishes the wasteful strife and competition which hinders pro- gress. It does this as self-love which seeks those values that gain by sharing, and as love of others which serves them according to need and worth. Social progress is most real and rapid when mutual service in cooperation takes the place of selfish and destructive rivalry. The progressive societies are those in which there is the least waste of life. The stationary and retrogressive societies are those in which there is the most waste and failure. The progressive societies are those in which the individ- ual seeks for himself the values which gain by sharing and finds his welfare in promoting the common good. The unprogressive societies are those in which the individual seeks for himself the possessions which are reduced by sharing and THE CHARACTER OF JESUS 421 obtained by violent seizure from others. There is greatest waste of life in savage and uncivilized so- cieties. Struggle for subsistence, self-indulgence, vice, and disease carry destruction to a fraction much larger than decimation. There is most com- petition with least progress. Excessive struggle and rivalry tend to extermination. There is least waste in civilized countries where each regards the rights and welfare of others, where the home, the community, the State, and the church combine in- dividuals in organizations which are strong and sound through mutual service, in which the aim is to make as many as possible fit to survive. Pro- portion of competition and progress is reversed when society is on the higher Christian plane. On the lower grade there is most struggle and least progress, on the higher grade there is least strug- gle and most progress. This is no reversal of evolution. It is progressive evolution. The evo- lution of the individual proceeds a certain distance by strife. But as self-preservation becomes self- realization, evolution proceeds the remaining dis- tance chiefly by cooperation and reciprocity, each person promoting the self-realization of others as he promotes his own. The progressive societies are not engaged in struggle for bare existence, but in combined effort for comfort, knowledge, culture, art, character, friendship, love, patriotism, religion. As in physical nature the organic is superimposed on the inorganic, and the vital on the chemical, the higher taking up the lower ; as physical evolution in the animal is followed by psychic evolution in man, and this in turn proceeds by moral and social 422 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION development ; so in society combination is super- imposed on competition. The path of progress is most clearly marked by the Christian law of love, the self-love which seeks one's own true worth, the love of others which seeks their true worth and in seeking that gains the true self-realization. Chris- tianity not only marks the path of progress, but marks it out and breaks it out, till it becomes a highway and a way along which mountains are brought low and valleys are exalted. Unless evo- lution insists on limiting itself to one law, the law of struggle for existence, it can raise no objection to the controlling law of Christianity. If it rec- ognizes, as it must, social cohesion and progress by cooperation, it welcomes the Christian law of love as completely harmonious with the observed evolu- tion of all progressive societies. This law found its best expression, we may almost say its intro- duction, in the life of Jesus. He gave the idea of social welfare and progress in the kingdom he founded, which is the kingdom of righteousness and peace and love. v The doctrine of the Holy Spirit is the doctrine of the divine immanence. The spirit of truth, the spirit of holiness, the spirit of love, are the best and highest expressions of God. Such qualities are well characterized as spirit. There is a spirit in man and the Almighty giveth him understand- ing. Belief in the indwelling spirit signifies the deepest and the final truth, that the life of man is in and from the life of God. In his light we see light. Although an unreal and vague mysticism IMMORTALITY 423 has rested on this belief, yet the belief has always saved men from formalism and externalism. An evolution which finds God in nature and humanity may welcome the truth that God who was in Christ dwells in our minds and hearts by his Spirit which he has given us. VI The belief in immortality is not peculiar to Christianity, but Christianity makes it firm at the roots. The more deeply man knows himself a child of God, the Eternal One, the more probable becomes his survival of death and his complete perfection. That the spiritual and moral nature of man survives material changes is a reasonable belief. Man needs more time to realize his capa- bilities. Evolution expects that incompleteness will be brought to completeness. To quote Mr. Fiske once more : " Now the more thoroughly we compre- hend that process of evolution by which things have come to be what they are, the more we are likely to feel that to deny the everlasting persistence of the spiritual element in Man is to rob the whole process of its meaning. It goes far toward putting us to permanent intellectual confusion, and I do not see that any one has as yet alleged, or is ever likely to allege, a sufficient reason for our accepting so dire an alternative. . . . According to Mr. Spencer, the divine energy which is manifested throughout the knowable universe is the same energy that wells up in us as consciousness. Speaking for myself, I can see no insuperable difficulty in the notion that at some period in the evolution of Humanity this 424 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION divine spark may have acquired sufficient concen- tration and steadiness to survive the wreck of ma- terial forms and endure forever. Such a crowning wonder seems to me no more than the fit climax to a creative work that has been ineffably beautiful and marvelous in all its myriad stages." l VII Still further, the harmony of Christianity with evolution may be perceived when the observed de- velopment of religion is traced from the lowest forms of fetichism to spiritual Christianity. There has been an evolution of religion, and Christianity is the religion which survives, is the survival of the fittest religion. In this sense, it comes dis- tinctly within the lines of human evolution. The main direction of the development can be clearly followed. Widening knowledge of nature reduces the number of gods. The forces which were thought to be many are found to be one. Reli- gion therefore passes from belief in many gods to belief in one God, from polytheism to monotheism. Moral perceptions and standards affect the idea of God. He is not mere Power which goes crashing through the universe. He is Power which makes for Righteousness. He is holy and good. He deals with men and with nations, not by arbitrary favoritism, but by character. This idea animates the religion of Israel. The righteous character of Jehovah was probably recognized before his Al- mightiness as the one and only God was believed. The gods of the other nations, of Assyria, of Phe- 1 The Destiny of Man, pp. 115-118. THE EVOLUTION OF RELIGION 425 nicia, of Egypt, were thought to be real divinities, but immoral in character, and inferior to Jehovah. Later he is believed to be the only God, the high and lofty One, inhabiting eternity, whose name is Holy. He dwells with the man who is of a humble and contrite spirit. He rules the nations in righteousness, building up the nations that exe- cute justice, pulling down the nations that practice iniquity. The actual fortunes of individuals and peoples are a perplexity to faith, but the belief that God rules in righteousness does not waver. It rises to sublimity. The nations are a drop in the bucket. The gods of silver and gold are no- thing. Judgment impends on the idolatrous and corrupt peoples. The kingdom of God is coming. All things are in his power, for he is the Creator of the universe and the Ruler of all the nations. The individual overwhelmed by misfortune stands steadfast in his faith ; trusts when he cannot un- derstand. These beliefs prepared the way for faith in the Fatherhood of God which Jesus re- vealed. The faiths as well as the unfaith and skepticism of Greek and Roman prepared the way for faith in the Fatherhood of God. At an earlier time this belief could not or might not have been received. In the fullness of time God sent forth his Son. Every new differentiation of belief, if so clumsy a term may be employed, was articulated into previous knowledge and faith. The prophet, possessed with a new idea, which was a word of God and not of man, a " thus saith the Lord," grafted his teaching upon the religious truths already accepted. Jesus came, not to destroy, but 426 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION to fulfill, to enlarge and to deepen the idea of righteousness into the idea of love, to break down the walls of partition between Jew and Gentile by teaching that all are children of one Father. Re- ligion, from animism to Christianity, is a continu- ous moral evolution, a development from fear to love. It is not altogether true that " fear creates the gods," for wonder, reverence, and dependence are universal religious sentiments. But fear of divine judgments is a true sentiment springing up in the conscience of unholy man. The hope of re- covery from sin through the mercy of God trans- forms fear into love, until perfect love casts out fear. The evolution of religion in correspondence with the moral evolution of man does not signify that the belief in God is a human creation, for man did not create his own convictions and senti- ments, did not create himself. Knowing himself in his ideal character he knows his Creator and Father. Evolution explains religion, but does not explain it away. Christian doctrine has itself developed through the centuries since the time of Jesus. The essen- tial truths of Christianity have not changed nor been superseded, but have combined with Greek thought, with Latin thought, with modern thought, with science, and with philosophy, in the evolution of doctrine. The development has been determined by the essential truths of the gospel. The evolution is Christian, not heathen. But it is evolution. The fundamental truths are not foreign or hostile to the increments of knowledge which come from any source of truth open to men. In new and broader THE PERSON OF CHRIST 427 applications these beliefs find interpretations which disclose their deepest truth. The history of reli- gion culminating in Christianity, the evolution of Christian doctrine, and the application of Christian principles to personal and social life, are, then, in perfect accordance with the progressive evolution of humanity. They are not mere effects of pro- gress. The progress does not come first by other causes, and produce the beliefs. The beliefs are causes of progress while at the same time they are affected by it. Nothing in the world is purely cause or purely effect. Christianity and evolution are not contradictory, but are in complete harmony, so far as the essential moral and religious truths of Christianity are concerned. VIII There are certain questions which pertain more to the metaphysics than to the ethics of Christian- ity, and yet which cannot be passed over in the comparison we are making. The most important of those questions pertains to the person of Christ. It is asked whether the current belief that Christ was a person transcending ordinary humanity is not discredited by evolution. Must he not be re- garded as one man among others, as a religious teacher excelling all others in purity, but not differ- ent in nature or personality ? The doctrine of the person of Christ has sometimes, I admit, been formulated in an irrational and unintelligible man- ner. And yet the reality which even such doctrine has attempted to express is, I think, the reality of a transcendent person, and is not invalidated by 428 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION theories of physical and human evolution. Here, again, I defend no particular theory, but suggest important facts. That Jesus was true man has al- ways been maintained. The docetic doctrine that he was man only in appearance received early and swift condemnation. The humanity of Jesus has always been reasserted when, in defense of the divinity, it had been ignored or minimized. His favorite designation of himself was the Son of Man. In him humanity, in all its qualities and perfections, was incarnated. If he transcended humanity, it was in such mode as included rather than excluded it, even as the human type tran- scends while it includes the inferior animal organi- zation. In many respects Jesus was a distinct type. He transcended all other men in his consciousness of God and in his moral and spiritual affinity with God. He brought God to the world in his very person. He was seen to be one continually coming forth from God. It has been said that God was in him as far as God can be in a human being. But God was in Christ as he has not been in any human being before or since. He transcends all men in that respect. He stands alone in his God-consciousness. There is no reason to suppose that any other man will be thus God-filled. He is unique in this respect. As transcending all others he was a new cause, the power of God in a higher potency. I do not see that evolution presents insuperable objection to this, or, indeed, any objection at all. The appearance of that which is new and distinc- THE PERSON OF CHRIST 429 tive is the condition of progress. Something dif- ferent appears. Variations or differentiations are points of new departure. How the variations are produced is not known. It is only known that new types date back to the slight or important varia- tions which appear. I think that all of them must ultimately be referred to that force or life which is the divine power and wisdom. A man unique in spiritual quality, a God-filled man, might not, in- deed, be predicted. But then it is doubtful if any type-producing variation could be predicted. The psychical creature man, with his variation from the physical creature which preceded him, could not have been foreseen. Relations and variations can be traced afterwards, but not beforehand. They fit in, but could not, in most cases, have been fore- seen. I hesitate to apply these analogies to the tran- scendent person of Christ, and yet as suggesting that every advance is from a new point of depar- ture, that progress is by epochs, they are appro- priate. The only question that might arise is the question why there has been only one Christ, why not many God-filled men, transcendent in moral and spiritual creative power? But here again analogy answers the question. There has been only one Shakespeare, only one Plato, only one Homer, only one Raphael. It has been said, as I have remarked, that Shakespeare is accounted for by the historic and literary conditions of the Elizabethan period, that he could not have ap- peared at any other time, before or since. But if he was the product of that period, why does 430 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION he stand alone ? Why were there not many im- mortal Shakespeares ? And was not Shakespeare as much a cause as an effect of those condi- tions ? The fact is that genius is not accounted for by causes to which thousands are subject, although genius is vitally related to those causes. Genius is solitary and unheralded. It enters humanity with creative or recreative power. Progress dates from single points. This amounts to a law, even in the appearance of physical types. It is probable that the human race descended from one man or one pair. The theory that the various races were au- tochthonous, that they appeared independently in many places, is abandoned. From one initial point of psychic and moral variation the human species, in all probability, sprung. So, from one individ- ual, a new moral creation proceeded. The apostle Paul seizes on this very analogy. There was a first man, Adam, the progenitor of the race, and a second man, Christ, the progenitor of a renewed race. Mortal men came from the first ; immortal men from the second. As in Adam all die, so in Christ all are made alive. That a person, unique in moral perfection, transcendent in God-conscious- ness, and the revealer of God's character of holy love, should appear as a creative moral power, is quite in the line of the observed method of all pro- gress. It certainly is not inconceivable, irrational, nor improbable. That he stands alone is not with- out analogy in the solitariness of genius. In phy- sical reproduction from an initial point there is repetition and equality. But intellectually and - THE PERSON OF CHRIST 431 spiritually it is otherwise. And when we consider all that Jesus revealed and produced, we find re- sults commensurate with a unique cause, and may well believe that he was one who transcended the human into which he was incarnated, and tran- scended it by reason of his life in God. If human and divine are not mutually exclusive, if the per- sonality and consciousness of every man rest back on God, if all the manifestations of thought and life in the universe are expressions of God, and if humanity is the child of God, why should it be thought a thing incredible that one person should perfectly express the character of God, and, as the Son of God, transcend all other men ? How his person, as human, yet transcending the human, is to be understood depends on concep- tions of the personality of man and of God. Spe- cific theories would carry us over into philosophy and theology. Various opinions have been held by those who believe in the divinity of Christ. But, as the last word of science is the first word of reli- gion, as science ends with the conclusion that there is a God, and religion says on the first page of its Bible, " in the beginning, God," so in respect to the revelation of God in Christ. Science, tracing physical and human evolution, perceives numerous points of new departure which account for results, but are not themselves accounted for ; it perceives great men who determined subsequent progress ; it perceives one man unique in moral perfection and transcendent in God-consciousness who produced a new moral type. There science stops, and remits to philosophy and theology theories of his person- 432 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION ality. 1 The science which finds God in nature and history, or else breaks down in sheer phenomenal- ism, need not hesitate to find God in Christ. Crude and inconsistent theories have been ad- vanced to define the person of Christ, but all theories rest on the facts of his consciousness, his revelation, and his power. They are simply at- tempts, more or less successful, to account for the person who convinced the world of the Fatherhood of God, and made real the Brotherhood of man. IX But does not science absolutely prohibit belief in miracles and the supernatural ? It is to be re- membered that the Bible nowhere uses the term " supernatural." It says nothing of interruptions or contradictions of the laws of nature. All things, usual and unusual, are regarded as manifestations of the power of God. Not only is the word " super- natural " absent, but also the idea. No distinction is made between the natural and the supernatural. Both the word and idea are modern, and are due 1 The modern theologian is building- a doctrine of the person of Christ on the perfect humanity and the unique God-conscious- ness of Jesus. The Rev. Dr. George A. Gordon, in The Christ of To-day, a noble contribution to theological thought, finds the identity of Christ with humanity in his very difference from men as the one who brings the absolute and eternal into the human and finite. Other recent and notable books of a similar purport are Rev. Frederic Palmer's Studies in Theologic Definition, Presi- dent William DeWitt Hyde's Outlines of Social Theology, and Rev. Dr. J. H. Denison's Christ's Idea of the Supernatural. All these books connect Christ with the organic evolution of nature and history, which he includes, interprets, and completes in his divine-human, human-divine person. MIRACLES AND RESURRECTION 433 to the extension of scientific knowledge. As laws of nature became known, the conception of God's relation to the universe was changed. He was thought of as outside the universe. Events, the causes of which were unknown, were attributed to God, and were characterized as supernatural. The miracles of the Bible were so regarded. But when the conception of the universe as mechanism run- ning in grooves by the agency of second causes gives place to the conception of the universe as organism throbbing with force and life, nature in all its movements is regarded as having its power and law in God, and the supernatural (if the term is retained) signifies the higher revelations of God in Christ rather than that which over-rides or interrupts the processes of natural law. The sharp contrast between supernatural and natural is too large a concession to materialistic science and too narrow a limitation on the revelation of God. Let it also be remembered that Jesus attached only secondary importance to the cures and miracles he performed. He wished to be believed for himself and his truth. " The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and they are life." He himself is the real miracle. I cannot but believe that Jesus did many of the things which are ascribed to him. The narratives fall to pieces if they are torn out of his life and teaching. They were unusual deeds. But Jesus was an unusual person. May we not at least say that he who was pure and holy had health-power, by which he could cure diseases of body and mind ? 434 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION Remarkable power, which nobody yet understands, resides in certain persons, power over bodily conditions and over imagination, will, and faith. That a greater power resided in Jesus is far from incredible. His miracles would not be effects without causes, but unique effects produced by a unique person. The motive was beneficence, never display. The power of Jesus over physical nature, as shown in the stilling of the tempest, the multipli- cation of loaves, the draught of fishes, is not as intelligible. If these miracles stood alone, we might be incredulous. But he who had such power over men, over mind and body, even after death seemed to have occurred, may have been aware, at times, of a control over nature which was unusual. If he transcended ordinary humanity, if he em- bodied the character of God so as to bring in a new revelation, it would be hazardous to mark a line beyond which his power could not be exercised, and especially to make the boundary coincide with the limits of facts which at present can be made clearly intelligible to us. The nature-miracles are very few, and are not important to an adequate knowledge of his person, his teachings, and his kingdom. And as to all the miracles, the remark may be repeated, that they are secondary in impor- tance to his teachings and redemption, as he him- self insisted, and are to be understood, not chiefly as proofs that he is divine, but as exercises of a beneficence in keeping with his gracious purposes. The doubts which might arise if such powers were ascribed to any one disappear when it is remein- MIRACLES AND RESURRECTION 435 bered that they belonged to one who in his very person and life gave a new revelation of God, pro- duced a new type of character, and created a new humanity. Christ himself, I have said, is the real miracle. He was a creative moral power. But is it not impossible to believe in his resurrection ? And is not belief in the resurrection essential to Chris- tianity, even if belief in miracles is not essential ? I admit that the reappearance of an individual after death in his recognizable bodily form, and in a form which after a few weeks vanishes alto- gether, is highly improbable. The chemical prop- erties of the body are such that when death occurs there is no reanimation. There are, indeed, thou- sands of people who have no difficulty in believing that the dead reappear in a body visible but ethe- realized. Spiritualists, in fact, are numbered by millions rather than thousands. But these appear- ances are produced by simple devices, or are illu- sions of the imagination, or are phenomena due to peculiar power possessed by so-called mediums. The scientific temper refuses to accept this popular explanation of occult phenomena. Science does not refuse to believe in many startling occurrences, but does refuse to accept so-called supernatural agen- cies as accounting for them. There is a strong pre- supposition against the resurrection of a human being. Many important beliefs of Christianity would remain even if Christ did not rise from the dead. Some of those beliefs have already been indicated. It cannot be denied, however, that there would be 436 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION a very considerable modification of doctrine if be- lief in the resurrection should be relinquished. Faith in Christ as a Redeemer originally rested on his supposed victory over death, and has always rested on confident belief in his resurrection. At the same time, there have been sincere Christians who have not held that belief, and yet have seen in Christ the revelation of God. Against the presupposition must be placed evi- dence of the fact of resurrection, sufficient reasons for it, and a meaning in it. Into the evidence I do not enter. It consists, directly, of the testimony of many honest witnesses, and, indirectly, of the results which flowed from the belief, namely, the Christian church with its power in the world, the observance of the Lord's Day, and, in a word, Christianity itself. It is almost impossible to sup- pose that these results proceeded from deception, dishonesty, or heated imagination. The reason for the belief is found in the person and work of Christ. If he was a unique person, perfect in holiness, having his life consciously and completely in God, and having power for the re- covery of men from sin to holiness, death might be different to him from what it is to unholy and degenerate men. This reason was perceived by the first preacher of Christianity, who said that, as for death, it was not possible that Christ should be holden of it. Death, as an event to be dreaded, is a result of sin, and Christ, who was sinless and broke the power of sin for men, may have been superior to death, in all that makes it a dread, and may have transcended some of its physical condi- MIRACLES AND RESURRECTION 437 tions. His resurrection was the complete demon- stration that sin was destroyed, and that, for man, what remains of death is only transition to a better life. Such, at least, has been the meaning attached to the resurrection of Christ. The presupposition against is opposed by strong presuppositions for the abolition of death in the person of Christ. Belief in immortality strengthens belief in the resurrection of Christ. Against any survival after death there are strong presuppositions. We cer- tainly have no power to conceive the manner of it. Experience stops this side of death. How the person in his identity and consciousness continues to exist when bodily functions cease we are un- able to imagine. But the reasons for believing it are so cogent that they more than offset the pre- supposition against it, although some cannot bring themselves to believe that there is personal life after death. Those who believe that men are im- mortal believe that Jesus continued to exist after the crucifixion. Only one, perhaps, out of a thou- sand who doubt his resurrection doubts his con- tinued personal existence. That such a person, who in the body had revealed God to men, might manifest himself after death, and to convince men that he had destroyed the power of death, can hardly be considered impossible or inconceivable. As to the mode of manifestation, as to the nature of the spiritual body in which he appeared, we may not have a definite opinion. But the fact, so strongly supported by evidence and fortified by the reason and meaning of the manifestations, may very well be accepted. If science does not deny 438 CHRISTIANITY AND EVOLUTION immortality, nor the existence of a personal God, nor the revelation of God in Jesus Christ, although these truths lie beyond the region of empirical observation, then also the appearance of Jesus after death need not be denied, although science does not canvass the reason and meaning of it. The point I make is that evolution, tracing pro- gress up through nature and humanity to God and to immortality, presents no insuperable objection to the resurrection of Jesus, but leaves the belief to stand or fall with its meaning and reason and evi- dence. To say the least, evolution fixes no point beyond which there can be no further advance in the development of man. It cannot absolutely affirm that death is other than a temporary phase in the evolution of man, and certainly not that the one man who was unique in perfection of character had not a unique power which, for him at least, overcame death. Belief in the birth of Jesus from a virgin I do not regard as an essential doctrine of Christianity. The belief that he transcended humanity rests on his life, teachings, work, and power, not on the manner of his birth. The accounts of the Concep- tion given by Matthew and Luke have not the his- torical value of the accounts of the Resurrection. The virgin birth is not directly referred to else- where in the New Testament. Belief in the divin- ity of Christ was placed on other grounds. But that such a person may have been born into the human race in an exceptional manner cannot be proved impossible. My own opinion is that the narratives of the virgin birth are consonant with MIRACLES AND RESURRECTION 439 the person of one who transcended human nature in some respects and revealed the character of God to the world, but that on his actual personal- ity and work rather than on a miraculous origin belief in his divinity depends. The historical Christ is the ideal Christ. He was the expression in time of that which is eternal, in the human of the absolute perfection, in man of God. To some the historical form is of more, to others of less importance. But to all Christ is the renewer of moral life, the deliverer from sin, the conqueror of death, the revealer of God, the brother of men, the ruler of society, the ideal of humanity. There is no contradiction between the processes of evolution from lower to higher moral life, and the principles, the character, and the society which are realized in Christ. In this chap- ter I have only attempted to show that nature and history present no contradiction to the facts and truths of Christianity, that evolution is not antag- onistic to nor independent of the development of man from a low to a high estate according to the law of CONCLUSION THE PATH AND THE GOAL A CONTINUOUS and ascending path has been fol- lowed. At some points it has been little more than a trail scarcely distinguishable. At some remote points it has disappeared, and but for the fixed guiding stars overhead would have been lost alto- gether in the dense forest and matted undergrowth. But again it has emerged plain, broad, much trav- eled. Long stretches of that path are unused and so are thickly overgrown. It is now, and perhaps always will be impossible to trace the entire course of life in its plant, animal, and human direction. It is here ; it was there. The connection of pres- ent with past inferred by speculation may be quite different from the actual connection, yet we are certain it is a continuous although a devious and winding path. The ascent of a mountain is not in a straight line. But if a goal is reached, the path by which it has been gained is of compara- tively little importance. If the path cannot be retraced it is because there is no need of reenter- ing it. So far as it can be retraced it is still a guide towards the goal. No one can be better aware than the writer that there are lacuna in the arguments which have been presented, corresponding in part with the lacunae of existing knowledge. The gaps may yet be filled THE PATH AND THE GOAL 441 as the history and nature of life in its myriad forms are better understood. Possibly some of these breaks do not exist now to the clearer in- sight and broader perspective of other students. We all must admit, however, that origins are obscure and that life reproducing life is a mystery. I have freely admitted that morality cannot be so sharply defined as to leave no vagueness in the theory of it, and for the reason that it must be defined in terms of the man himself and of the whole man, who cannot fully understand his errors nor his perfectness. I have not been so presumptuous as to suppose that a demonstration of human freedom has been accomplished on these pages, but have been con- tent to recognize the unique, self-originating power of man within impassable limits and within the great and unfailing purpose of the Power which makes for righteousness. Concerning the age-long mystery of suffering, waste, evil, and cruelty, it would be the conceit of ignorance to claim that this discussion has ex- plained it away. I am satisfied if a use of painful and apparently wasteful strife has been perceived, and if exaggeration of the amount of it has been removed. In what has been presented I value chiefly the self-realization of personality, as recovering a na- tive impulse of human evolution to a moral mean- ing. It is indeed true that the love and service of others is an element in the life of man from the earliest and lowliest to the latest and noblest forms of that life. The monopoly of the law of struggle 442 THE PATH AND THE GOAL and survival has been rightly invaded by the law of altruism without which the reproduction of life and the well-being of society are alike impossible. To admit this law in the final result and to banish it from the incipient and intermediate conditions would be an insulation of effect from cause of which no scientist would care to be guilty. Evo- lution has therefore yielded its monopoly of self- preservation to make room for the parallel, or, as some regard it, the opposite law of altruism. All honor to those who have corrected the one-sided- ness of evolutionary theory by the restoration of a great moral value. And yet the other-regarding impulses have been thus far recognized chiefly as an offset to the self -regarding impulses. The realm of evolution has been more or less amicably di- vided, with an increasing encroachment of altruism upon self-regard. I have tried to show that this is only half of the truth and half of the advantage ; that the true significance of self-regard, misdirected, narrow, selfish, cruel, and foolish though it has often been, is self-perfection, which is the very essence of morality ; that self-realization of personal worth is the power which gives love and service of others value or even possibility ; and that in the last ana- lysis it is just the self-perfection of another which altruism promotes. The importance of personal culture is a needed corrective also of the insistence with which just at present the service of others is emphasized by socialistic theories and the over- working of the Christian idea of the kingdom of God. I have endeavored to show that the Chris- tian ideal is personal as much as social, is persona] THE PATH AND THE GOAL 443 in order to be social, that this ideal is the complete and rounded truth, the human curve swept around the foci of personality and society. Jesus said that he was guiding men into the whole truth, that is, into the wholeness of the truth, so that they should not rest in partial, one-sided, fragmentary truth. The whole truth is self-realization of personality in the reciprocities of society. As the social line of pro- gress is not lost sight of, however far it can be traced, even into animal gregariousness, so the per- sonal line of progress does not fade out, but can be seen, prophetic of the perfected personality, in all the wild and heartless struggle for existence and enjoyment. A breach in the moral path of evolution is thus filled, I venture to believe. He may be happy of whom it can be said : " And thou shalt be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of paths to dwell in." I am not so foolish as to claim that the problem of suffering, waste, and cruelty is completely solved. But I do make bold to affirm that the problem is reduced to lower terms when it is seen that all the native impulses of humanity are essential to the making of a man and to the well-being of society. To find myself mistaken in this matter would be a sad surprise which would make me doubtful of my mental and moral sanity. The path, I have said, is of less importance than the goal. The method by which values have been attained is a small interest compared with the pos- session. Man is what he is, however he may have become what he is. The line of approach may even be concealed or forgotten. Ars est celare artem. 444 THE PATH AND THE GOAL The statue is carried away from the workshop and placed in the square ; chisel, dust, and mechanism are not piled up at the base. The preacher does not retrace the methods of his solitary thought, but gives results. The skeleton of his discourse is left in the closet, or, rather, to avoid so gruesome a simile, is covered with flesh and concealed by its covering. God's methods in his world of nature and humanity are not obtruded, are in part con- cealed, and especially those methods which are not repeated. The results, the values, are better known than the process, and are of greater consequence. Yet we know in part how he works. We need to know so far as results are yet to be gained by the old methods which are ever new. Humanity itself forgets the long, hard path it has traveled as it sees and reaches the goal. The toil and struggle of our fathers we can only guess at. We do not care that posterity should know our endurance, if only they inherit a goodly legacy and do their part to add some increment to it. The joy of posses- sion obliterates the pain of attainment. So it is always from the birth of a child to the birth of a nation. Humanity when it is at the goal has a blessed oblivion of the path. Yet it is well, it is necessary to know the way that has been traveled, because the goal, to borrow Dr. Gordon's felicitous word, is a flying goal. The ideal moves on and is progressively realized. Heights are gained, but there are loftier heights beyond. We reach the promised land. The wilderness lies behind and is soon forgotten. But the promised land is full of unsubdued Philistines. This is the law of progress. THE PATH AND THE GOAL 445 Attainment of real and present good demands the subjugation of evil and the realization of higher good. Here is the refutation of pessimism and the cor- rective of superficial optimism. It has been said of pessimism that it sees no goal. It thinks the human path is a circle. As one lost in the forest comes upon tracks which he follows, thinking they lead somewhere, only to find that they are his own footsteps, so humanity wanders hither and thither in a path which ever returns into itself. An old fragment of pessimistic literature repeats] the dismal refrain, "the thing that hath been is that which shall be, and there is no new thin| under the sun." Optimism sees a goal, far-off or near. The op- timist is sobered when he looks back. Progress has been slow and fitful. There has been retro- gression. Yet he sees that the path has had a direction. The movement has not been aimless. Man has grown to be of a larger stature. Society has improved. By distant contrast, the moderns are better than the ancients. The retrospect which sobers also animates. At a slow rate indeed man- kind advances, but it does advance. And so op- timism is more than a hope for the future. It is based on the possession and enjoyment of present value. Science, culture, art, friendship, love, coun- try, religion, are actual possessions. Pessimism cannot gainsay these, although they have not yet reclaimed all outlying provinces. The friendship which is true, in spite of faults and affronts, the love which binds hearts together, and the aspira- 446 THE PATH AND THE GOAL tion to be worthy of friendship and love, "are human and spiritual values which the pessimistic materialist cannot take away. After two friends, whom Stevenson introduces as principal characters in " Prince Otto," had composed a quarrel, and reaffirmed their affection, one of them says to the other, " What matters it how bad we are, if others can still love us, and we can still love others ? " "Ay," replied the doctor, "it is very well said. It is the true answer to the pessimist, and the standing miracle of mankind." The very genius of Christianity is the present realization of the ideal. Now are we the sons of God. The kingdom of God is among you. The kingdom comes on earth because the will of God is done by his children. And such a present is the prophecy of a greater future. " I answer, Have ye yet to argue out The very primal thesis, plainest law, Man is not God but hath God's end to serve, A master to obey, a course to take, Somewhat to cast off, somewhat to become ? Grant this, then man must pass from old to new, From vain to real, from mistake to fact, From what once seemed good, to what now proves best. How could man have progression otherwise ? ** While man knows partly but conceives beside, Creeps ever on from fancies to the fact, And in this striving, this converting air Into a solid he may grasp and use, Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beasts' : God is, they are, Man partly is and wholly hopes to be." 1 1 Robert Browning, A Death in the Desert. 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 13 2003 LD 21A-60m-7,'66 (G4427slO)476B General Library University of California Berkeley re 2263}