GIFT OF W- E. . H ftyvvvjUov\. STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE BY W. E. HAMILTON PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY EMERITUS IN SIMPSON COLLEGE CHICAGO PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 1916 Copyright, 1916. BY W. E. HAMILTON Indianaola, Iowa CTfje ILafcfsttie R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY CHICAGO TO MY STUDENTS WHOSE EARNEST AND SYMPATHETIC ATTENTION IS GRATEFULLY ACKNOWLEDGED, THESE PAGES ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED PREFACE STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE is published in response to the expressed desire of many of the author's students that the lec- tures which had formed the basis of class room discussions for so many years might be preserved in permanent form. The lectures have been rewritten and an effort has been made to prepare the work for the general reader. It would seem presumptuous to hope that this little book might "fill a long felt want" for a textbook which would give a brief discussion of the problems of Moral Science and be adapted to class room work. But should any teacher find here any helpful suggestions, the writer will be amply repaid for his pains in giving the work to the world. The attention of the reader is especially called to the treat- ment of Christian Evidences. To some it may seem strange that this should find a place in a work on Ethics. It is believed, however, that the recognition of Moral Dynamics as one of the divisions of Moral Science will justify the attention given to that faith, which has been the greatest Dynamic for righteous- ness that the world has ever known. It is hoped that this portion of the work may be helpful to those religious teachers who are called to answer questions as to the grounds of Chris- tian belief. Grateful acknowledgment is made of the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. R. S. Beall of Mount Ayr, Iowa, who read the work in manuscript and made many helpful criticisms. CONTENTS BOOK I MORAL THEORY PAGE INTRODUCTION: THE FIELD or MORAL SCIENCE .... n I. THE POSTULATES OF MORAL SCIENCE 13 II. THE DIVISIONS or MORAL SCIENCE 15 III. WHAT is DUTY? 17 IV. MAN A MORAL PERSON 21 V. PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW 22 VI. THE ELEMENTS INVOLVED IN AN EXERCISE OF THE SEN- SIBILITIES 26 VII. THE QUANTITY AND QUALITY OF THE SENSIBILITIES . . 30 VIII. THE INTELLECT ITS PLACE IN THE MORAL CONSCIOUSNESS 36 IX. THE WILL 41 X. CONDITIONS OF CHOICE 48 XI. EFFECTS OF THE EXERCISE OF WILL 52 XII. MORAL GOOD 57 XIII. DISPOSITION AND CHARACTER 63 XIV. THE ORIGIN OF MORAL RELATIONS 66 XV. THE EXTERNAL ACTIONS 75 XVI. THE MORAL FEELINGS 79 XVII. THE CONSCIENCE > 83 XVIII. QUESTIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE 96 XIX. AUTHORITY IN MORALS 102 BOOK II PRACTICAL ETHICS I. INTRODUCTION 109 II. DIVISION OF DUTIES 114 III. DUTIES TO SELF 116 IV. DUTIES TO SELF Continued 122 THE APPETITES V. DUTIES TO SELF Continued 132 DUTIES RELATING TO CHARACTER THE INTELLECT VI. DUTIES TO SELF Continued 138 DUTIES RELATING TO THE EMOTIONS VII. DUTIES TO SELF Continued 141 AMUSEMENTS VIII. THE DOCTRINE OF RIGHTS 152 IX. THE DOCTRINE OF RIGHTS Continued 161 X. DUTIES OF A MAN TO His FELLOW MAN 165 XI. DUTIES OF A MAN TO His FELLOW MAN Continued . 176 XII. DUTIES TO GOD 187 io CONTENTS BOOK III MORAL DYNAMICS PAGE I. THE GROWTH OF THE IDEAL 197 II. THE EVOLUTION OF MOTIVE 204 III. EXTRA MORAL FORCES IN MORAL DEVELOPMENT . . . 211 IV. EXTRA MORAL FORCES Continued 214 V. EXTRA MORAL FORCES Continued 218 RELIGIOUS FAITH VI. WHY EXAMINE THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY? . . . 225 VII. THE NATURE OF CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES 228 VIII. How COULD A DIVINE REVELATION, IF MADE, BE ACCREDITED? 231 IX. THE PROPER TEMPER OF MIND IN WHICH TO EXAMINE CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES 234 X. THE KIND AND DEGREE OF PROOF WE MAY EXPECT IN EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY 237 XI. RIVAL HYPOTHESES AS TO THE ORIGIN OF CHRISTIANITY . 240 XII. THE FOUNDER OF CHRISTIANITY is NOT A MYTHICAL PER- SONAGE 242 XIII. WAS THE WHOLE CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT SOME TIME LEGEND- DUPED? 247 XIV. TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY ' 252 XV. TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY Continued . . . 262 XVI. HYPOTHESIS OF LEGENDARY GROWTH Concluded . . . 270 XVII. THE HYPOTHESIS OF FORGERY 272 XVIII. HYPOTHESIS OF DELUSION OR IMPOSTURE PRELIMINARY SURVEY 279 XIX. WAS JESUS AN IMPOSTOR OR A MADMAN? 281 XX. WERE THE DISCIPLES OF JESUS DELUDED ENTHUSIASTS? . 284 XXI. WERE THE APOSTLES OF JESUS IMPOSTORS? 292 CONCLUSION 298 BOOK I MORAL THEORY Introduction THE FIELD OF MORAL SCIENCE MORAL SCIENCE is the science of duty. The first requisite of any science or of any department of a science is the existence of some well defined body of facts a group of objects or a succession of events which it is proposed to observe, to classify, or to explain. Any one of these processes of observation, classification, or explanation is scientific; and the merit of any treatment of a given subject will be measured by the accuracy of the observation, the logical character of the classification, and the rationality of the explanation. This first requisite of a science we have; for there is a class of human activities to which the name Duty has been given. This is the field of Moral Science. Every fact relating to the things which men any- where call duty has a place for treatment in any comprehensive discussion of our subject. It has sometimes been questioned whether a Moral Science is possible. It is said that there is so little agreement among men as to what duty is: that the same conduct is regarded in one community as a duty and in another as a crime; that even the same person, at different periods in life, will hold as duties, actions most diverse. It is argued that in this confusion, order and system and hence science are impossible. Of this objec- tion several things are to be noted: i. It argues the need of a Moral Science, not the impossibil- ity of it. That the masses of men have widely diverse and often crude and inconsistent ideas of ethical subjects no more proves the impossibility of a Moral Science than the crude notions of the ancients respecting a multitude of physical objects would have proven the impossibility of the modern sciences of Geog- raphy, Physics and Chemistry. ii 12 .STUDIES. Itf MORAL SCIENCE 2 . 'Tne objection itself Kin tsit its answer : The reality of duty may be found to lie, not in the substance of being, not in the fact of given actions as such, but in the relations of beings and actions. Some other sciences are as open to objection here as that with which we are at present concerned. Ask men in different climes and ages, of different races and civilizations for their examples of the beautiful, and you will have diverse and inconsistent answers. Yet who will deny the existence of the Beautiful, or that the science of Aesthetics is in some meas- ure possible? 3. The objection concedes one of the principal facts with which our science proposes to deal. Notwithstanding the diverse opinions of men as to the concrete actions to which the name duty should be attached, they do not differ as to the ex- istence of this fact that some relation exists between them- selves and their fellows, involving discrimination as to pro- prieties of conduct. In any emergency some one action is the right one, and its opposite is wrong. Men do not differ as to there being a right and a wrong action. They differ as to what that right and wrong action may be. Now these diverse opinions are facts to be observed, and this persistence under it all of the universal conviction of the existence of duty is a fact to be accounted for. This leads us to remark: 4. If all these beliefs of men are incorrect if duty is a misnomer and right and wrong are fictions, it would still be the function of some science to show that fact and to account for these delusions. STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE CHAPTER I THE POSTULATES OF MORAL SCIENCE No SCIENCE really begins at the beginning. Something is always assumed as known. Some things will be taken and accepted without proof. No better illustration of this can be found than that furnished by the mathematical sciences. Every textbook in Algebra or Geometry will be found to open with the statement of certain axioms. No attempt is made to prove them. They are incapable of proof. Were any mind so con- stituted that it did not see them, were any one to question them (their import being comprehended), even then it would be folly to attempt to prove them. If any man does not see that "the whole is greater than any of its parts," it would be foolish to try to teach him anything either of Arithmetic or Geometry. Waste no time with him. Science does not exist for such minds as his. All physical science, too, assumes the reality of the material universe and of the knowing mind. In our treat- ment of Moral Science, there are certain things which we shall assume. We may explain the phraseology of the propositions in which we state them; the truths themselves we shall not attempt to prove. We assume: 1. The verity of the universal thought conceptions. We include in these the axioms of Mathematics and of Logic, and the intuitions of the understanding, such as Space, Time, Sub- stance and Attribute, Causation and Final Cause. By that last term we mean to affirm design in the universe. We justify the child's eternal question of " What for? " and claim that things are constituted for ends. 2. That human well being is the end of that portion of the universe which is, or may be brought, under human control. * 13 14 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE This is not set forth as an axiom. It is not necessarily true; possibly it may not be correct, but it is one of those generali- zations which "hold the field." A better has not been sug- gested. It is not likely to be disputed. The religious moralist will not dare to question it for he is accustomed to sing: "We for whose sake all nature stands And stars their courses move, We for whose guard the angel bands Come flying from above. " Neither the infant crying for the moon, the devotee of sensual pleasure, nor the greedy seeker of gain is prepared to dispute it, for each of these has assumed as true a far more questionable proposition: namely, that he is the particidar portion of the human race for whom all things exist. We have worded this postulate carefully. We have said human well being, so that the man who wishes to claim anything under it must reconcile his well being with that of every other human. We have not made man the end of the universe, but of that portion of it which is under his control. And we claim for our postulate, not the authority of an intuition, nor even of a demonstrated proposition, but simply the presumption of a reasonable "work- ing hypothesis." Let it stand until some one in good faith questions it. 3. The absolute, unimpeachable authority of Conscious- ness: that is, of the power of the soul to know its own states. That which I find to be the condition of my own self, my state of action or of suffering, when I look within, that thing I as- suredly know. I may raise a question as to what I see or hear, but not as to the fact that / do see and hear. I may be in error as to the location of a disorder of the body, but if I have the toothache, I can not question that I do suffer pain. CHAPTER II THE DIVISIONS OF MORAL SCIENCE A FEW WORDS are in place here as to the divisions of our sub- ject. The following outline is suggested: Moral Science Proper | ^ f Practical Ethics Moral Science Ethks [ Casuistry Ethical History Moral Theory or Moral Philosophy is primarily and chiefly a study of the moral consciousness of the individual man. In it we observe and study all those powers and activities which are involved in those experiences which we call moral. In other words, we consider each and every thing in the constitu- tion and development of man which contributes to the making him a moral person. We observe the growth of the moral consciousness, and if possible account for it. We note the effect of various activities on the moral life. We seek to know if possible the number and character of our simple, moral ideas. We search for the ground of moral obligation. We will analyze and discuss the various theories of the Conscience. In short, we seek to answer all the general questions which may ration- ally be asked about that which men call Duty. Moral Dynamics will treat of all those agencies by which the actual moral life of an individual in society is made to ap- _, proach the ideal. Practical Ethics is largely a classification of duties. In it we enumerate and group the various duties of man. We will formulate, if possible, rules for the direction of human conduct. One author has not inappropriately called his work, in the con- sideration of this portion of our subject, a treatise on "Rational Living. " Very clearly much, yes most, of our moral instruction 15 16 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE is in this domain. The family, the church and the school are more concerned with rules of conduct than with moral theory. In the words of Prof essor Bowne, "The moral life did not begin in laying down general principles of conduct, but in forming codes of concrete duties." In this respect our moral is like all other departments of life. As children, men learn first in the con- crete. The study of the science of numbers and of the art of computation would be an impossibility, were not illustrations at hand, on fingers, balls, apples or numeral frame. And so although we begin our study with the theory of morals, that study would have been an impossibility, had we not, in the teaching of the home and the school, perchance of the play- ground and the street, learned somewhat of duty in the concrete. Casuistry seeks to make out rules for human conduct, in cases of supposedly conflicting duties. At one time it engaged a large share of the attention of moralists. It is now fallen into bad repute; and rightly so, for its very existence depended on an erroneous conception of the ground of moral obligation. We shall see that there can be no cases of conflicting duties. Ethical History will review the moral progress of the race or of some particular portion of it. It will note the rise and devel- opment of various ethical systems, and the prevalence among men of various ethical notions. It is inextricably woven into the political history of a people. It has been well said that the Law of a nation is the expression of the collective opinion of that people as to what right is. We shall begin our study with Moral Philosophy. CHAPTER III WHAT IS DUTY? MORAL SCIENCE is the science of duty but what is duty? The impossibility of specifying any one set of external activities, to which the term can be applied, may arise from the fact that the "duty" quality of any act lies not in its active nature, but in its relations. Duty in the concrete is the act that ought to be done. The concept Duty in its extension denotes each and every act which, at the given time and in the given environ- ment, ought to be done. The concept Duty in its intension denotes this one mark which we may call "oughtness. " The one distinguishing feature of this whole class of activities, to which we conceive the term duty to be applied, is this quality of "oughtness." They have no other mark in common, but this they do have. Each and every one of them has "ought- ness," however differing in other respects. There is scant resemblance between feeding a hungry waif and administering the penalty of the law upon a thief; but this the two acts do have in common, each one is something which ought to be done. But it may be questioned whether this definition clears the matter. One troublesome word has been defined by an- other of no less difficulty. "Oughtness" is as difficult of defini- tion as duty. What is this quality of "oughtness"? Do these terms, duty and oughtness, denote a simple and original idea, which defies definition? What do I mean when I say that this or that act is my duty or that I ought to do it? Whether or not we reach a more adequate definition, it may help us to an under- standing of the subject to examine those circumstances under which men are accustomed to affirm the existence of duty. We note: i. There is a subjective and an objective view of duty. A man affirms that a given act is his duty only when he knows him- 17 i8 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE self the subject of a peculiar psychical experience an experience not easily described, but readily understood by every one who has had it. Let no one think it strange that we appeal to experience for an understanding of the subjective meaning of duty. A like appeal must be made in the effort to explicate any psychical fact. One can only discuss color intelligently with those who discern color, and by appealing to their expe- rience in vision. And so we ask the reader to pause here long enough to recall in his own experience, some time is his life, when he affirmed that some act was his duty. Let him describe that experience if he can. He will find it difficult, but one thing is certain: there was, however resisted by other impulses, a certain drawing or pressure toward the given activity a drawing, not always of inclination; indeed its peculiar nature is best observed, when inclination, passion, or desire have prompted the other way. In some cases so marked has this been that imaginative persons have declared that they heard voices commanding the doing of the act in question. An illu- sion, says the cool, philosophical critic. Yes, no doubt. But that illusion was the effect on a highly sensitive nature of a peculiar feeling, which is the experience of all; a certain feeling like no other to which the soul is subject, and which the old philosophers, using metaphor to express what otherwise could not be told at all, called a sense of obligation. Note the etymol- ogy a binding to. A sense of obligation then, from the sub- jective side, is the first characteristic of the experience of duty. But taking the objective view, we observe that the action, which is said to be duty and to which you feel obligated, is always conceived as possessing certain well defined character- istics. The act which you call duty is always thought of as an advantageous act; not always advantageous to yourself nor yet to the being most immediately acted upon, but advantage- ous to some being. No one ever affirmed a wholly malevo- lent act or an indifferent act to be his duty. Advantage, beneficence somewhere in the universe of being, is objectively a characteristic of duty. 2. Duty is affirmed to exist, only with reference to sensitive WHAT IS DUTY? 19 and sentient beings. No one thinks of claiming that I owe a duty to a stone or a stump, and if it is ever said that I owe a duty to the soil, the language is clearly figurative. It is only meant that I am obligated to use it in a certain manner, and to refrain from using it in another manner, because of the necessities of sentient and sensitive beings, who now or in the future must derive their sustenance from it. My duty to my country is not to its mountains, lakes, or rivers, but to intelli- gent, sensitive beings like myself, who do now or will live in it. Indeed, more than one sober minded citizen, on the evening of the Fourth of July, has thought that we would be better off if we could exchange some of our "love of our country" for a little more kindly consideration of our countrymen. 3. Duty is charged only to a limited and peculiar class of beings. As no duties are owed to inanimate nature, so none are demanded of it. No one has ever thought to load any duty on unintelligent beings and forces. It is clearly figurative language when we speak of the hungry flames, the cruel flood, or the pitiless storm. Neither do we affirm duty of the members of the brute creation. We expect service from them, not in re- sponse to a moral obligation on their part, but by virtue of our skill to require and enforce. If we fail to receive it, we are morti- fied at our failure. We may chastise the brute to make him do our bidding, but not his duty. There was profound philos- ophy, as well as "horse sense, " in the words of the rustic plough- man who had just triumphantly induced the balky horse of a city dude to go on his way: "You see, stranger, it is just like this: if the man knows more than the hoss, he can manage him; but if the hoss^appens to know the most, he will get away with the man." Further, it may be doubted whether any but chil- dren, before observing the difference between human and brute intelligence, are accustomed to think of brutes as owing duties to each other. The wolf may catch the hare if he is able; the hare may get out of the way if he can; neither one owes any duty to the other. Each is at liberty, without regard to the safety or well being of the other, to manifest and realize, to the full extent of his power, every impulse of his nature. But all this 20 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE changes as soon as we turn our attention to human society, even the rudest and most primitive. True, man may and often does gorge and fight and lust like the brute, but we use a differ- ent set of terms when speaking of his conduct. That which in the brute was only the necessary manifestation of a nature which he could not control, and so is viewed by us as a matter of course, in man calls for our scorn or contempt, and receives our severest condemnation. We hear of and speak of right and wrong, of good and evil, of praise and blame, of merit and guilt, of virtue and vice. And we hear terms like these used by even the most degraded of men. We have entered the moral universe. We are now dealing with beings possessing a moral consciousness. The observations of the last few paragraphs are so generally received and believed that any other view seems absurd. Xerxes by flogging the Hellespont makes himself, for all time, an object of ridicule. Why? What is there about man, that of him, and of him alone of all earthly beings, it is affirmed that he owes duties? What are the endowments which constitute man a moral person? To answer these questions may not be an easy matter but it must be done. CHAPTER IV MAN A MORAL PERSON Statement of Theories IN answer to the question, What constitutes man a moral person? two opinions have been advanced. One class of moral- ists would have us believe that to the ordinary faculties of Intellect, Sensibility and Will there has been added, by special creative act, an additional faculty which they variously term the Moral sense, the Moral reason, the Spiritual nature. Others do not invent any such faculty, for they do not believe it neces- sary. They hold that the Moral consciousness results from the high degree to which man is able to exercise his universally recognized powers of knowing, feeling, and choosing; that each of the activities which we call moral is capable of being resolved into one or the other, or a combination of these. They hold that the scientific law of parsimony, which forbids the assign- ment of more causes than are necessary to account for the phe- nomena, precludes the hypothesis of a special "moral sense"; and that man's "moral nature" designates the whole of his psychical endowments when applied to a special subject matter; that man's "moral personality" is an essential and necessary consequent of his complete and developed manhood, and that the two can not be conceived as separable. The question is not one for argument, but for careful and discrim- inating observation of the moral consciousness. We would not at this stage indicate to the reader the doctrine of this treatise, but would ask him to be with us an investigator. Let him examine the part which the ordinary psychical activi- ties perform in his moral experiences, and when he has gone through the whole range of his moral life, and set out what clearly and unquestionably belongs to Intellect, Sensibility, and Will, if any other, and different activity, remains, then let him assign it to a "Special Moral Sense." 21 CHAPTER V PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW IN speaking of the " faculties" of the soul it is not meant that the soul is divided into parts or organs with varying functions. Faculties are only powers of the soul for specific kinds of action. The use of such a term is justified by the fact that each one's experience assures him that there is great diversity in the acts and states of the soul, great differences considered as subjective experiences. The appellations of the soul's faculties are only names of the several classes of the soul's acts and states. The best definition of "faculty" is that which declares it to be "the soul itself in some one of its distinguishable forms of action or suffering." Thus the Intellect is "the soul endowed with and exercising the power to know. " But the soul, the self, the Ego, does other things besides know. The same " I " that knows also rejoices in that knowing, or it may be that some sort of knowledge gives me pain. I am sure that I am the subject of both activities; that the knowing is different from the rejoicing and the sorrowing; that these last two, while differing in quality, have resemblances justifying their being grouped together. Feeling, whether of pleasure or pain, is something essentially different from knowing. The Sensibility is defined as "the soul endowed with and exercising the power to feel." Psy- chologists also recognize another class of activities still different from either of these, and have defined (somewhat loosely we think) the Will as the "soul endowed with and exercising the power to choose. " Most important for our purpose at this time is the consider- ation of the Sensibilities. This is a field not very well subjected to scientific treatment. The literature is meager and unsatis- factory as compared with that which discusses the operations of the Intellect. The reason is not hard to find. The expe- 22 PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW 23 riences of feeling elude investigation. They will not come and go at our command, nor abide at our bidding. While acts of knowing may be repeated as often as desired, it is impossible to command at will the conditions for the careful study of the most important of the sensibilities. Neither the lover in the rapture of betrothal, the parent in the moments of yearning for his child, the widow following the corpse to the grave, the defeated and panic stricken soldier fleeing from the field, nor the man in a storm of angry passions is at all qualified to make scientific observations on himself. If he attempt it, the sensibility, which he would study, begins to vanish. Those feelings which need the most careful study are those in which self-consciousness is feeble, and we study them hours afterwards as they are repro- duced in memory. We may reasonably expect that the attempt to classify the sensibilities will yield faulty and imperfect returns. This remark applies to the table herewith presented. The author believes that he could criticise it severely himself, and so expects the reader to exercise that privilege. Neverthe- less, he believes it to have some merits. On the whole it is the best he has ever seen, and he presents it because, for the pur- poses of this discussion, it promises to be helpful. Each of these divisions has some characteristic which dis- tinguishes it from the others. Thus it is characteristic of a sensation that while it is, as truly as any other, a subjective experience of the soul, it always makes prominent the fact that it is of the soul as "animating an extended sensorium," and that it is "occasioned by some affection of the organism"; e. g., I extend my hand and apply it to some surface, hot, cold, rough, or smooth, and experience the^ appropriate sensation. Now that experience is as truly subjective, that is, it as truly belongs to the soul as any I can have, it is the conscious Ego which feels the pain, the prick, the rough or the smooth, but it is not the Ego as pure spirit. In this experience the Ego is made aware that it has a body, and that a part of that body is affected. The Appetites are certain cravings, as the word suggests, seekings of the soul. They resemble sensations, in that they are 2 4 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE Sensibilities f Organic Sensations Mus cular [ Special Appetites Emotions Passions Sight Sound Dermal Taste Smell Senses Touch Pressure Weight Tickle Hunger Thirst Sleep Motion Rest Sex Egoistic Feelings Altruistic Feelings Aesthetic Feelings Pious Sentiments Moral Feelings f Hate Envy Jealousy Avarice Ambition, etc. Joy Grief Fear Hope Love of Domination Love of Gain Love of Approval, etc. Love Pity Sympathy Family Affections Patriotism Social Impulses Etc. Beauty Grandeur Sublimity Disgust Sense of Humor Etc. Awe Reverence Gratitude Penitence Obligation Self -approval Self-reproach Merit Demerit PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW 25 occasioned by conditions of the organism. Indeed they might, with some show of reason, be grouped with sensations (for sensations always attend them), but they are distinguished from the more general class to which we give that name by their function in the economy of life. Each one of them bears a necessary relation, either to the healthy condition of the body or to the perpetuity of the species. Emotions and Passions have much in common. Indeed, a passion is usually an emotion which has become a permanent state of the soul. Hate, which we call a passion, seems to be only a permanent state of being angry. They are distinguished from the other great classes of Sensibilities by the character of the stimulus by which they are excited. This will be noticed more fully hereafter. As it is the aim of this discussion only to make such a study of the Sensibilities as is necessary for the study of the moral consciousness, we refrain from entering upon an extended review of the sub-classes and examples enumerated. CHAPTER VI THE ELEMENTS INVOLVED IN AN EXERCISE OF THE SENSIBILITIES IF from the grouping of the Sensibilities we turn to question as to their essential constitution, we shall find that an exercise of the sensibility is not so simple an affair as we may have supposed. Dr. McCosh gives a list of five essential elements in an Emo- tion. With slight modification it is true of each of the sensibili- ties. The place and order of the different elements may vary in the different species, but every conscious exercise of the sensibilities involves the following five distinguishable elements : 1. An appetence. 2. A stimulus, which may be a physical disturbance as in a sensation, or an idea as in an emotion. 3. The feeling proper. 4. An attendant desire. 5. An organic effect. We consider these briefly in order: The term Appetence is chargeable with some ambiguity. It suggests appetite, being from the same root. But though an appetence is involved in every exercise of appetite, the appetence is not the appetite. Still the appetites will furnish us good illustrations of the place which the appetence holds in an exercise of any sensibility. A man immediately after eating his dinner has no appetite for beef steak. But we know that it is very probable that in a short time he will have. We know that though not hungry now, there is something in his constitu- tion which has remained unchanged and which in a few hours will manifest itself in a renewed craving for food. Now this abiding element is what we call the appetence. It is that in the constitution, physical or psychical, which renders the man capable of being excited in a certain manner. Appetences do 26 EXERCISE OF THE SENSIBILITIES 27 not always reveal themselves in the composition of the organism, and, considered as belonging to the soul, they are below the hori- zon of consciousness. It sometimes happens that a capacity for a given exercise of the sensibility may be unsuspected until some peculiar condition comes about, in which it suddenly flames out in a burst of feeling which surprises us. But mark you, there was something in the man's constitution which re- sponded to those conditions, else the conditions would have availed nothing. The case of the pet tiger cub is an illustra- tion. A gentleman in India secured, from the den of a tigress, a cub before its eyes were open. He took it home and fed it on milk and scraps of food from his own table. It grew as tame and gentle as a kitten. It would follow him like a dog, delighted in being caressed, and would affectionately lick his hand. There came a day when the rough tongue of the pet slightly abraded the man's hand. The jaws closed on the hand with a growl, and the man found all at once that he had on his hands, not a harmless pet, but a wild beast of the jungle. Up to that moment the cub had no appetite for blood, but it is very commonplace to say that all the while there was something in its constitution different from the constitution of the lamb or the kid, a some- thing to which that smothered growl was the response. That something is what we call appetence. Jack London is reported to have said, that he "had two-legged dogs inniind" when he wrote "The Call of the Wild," and perhaps the persistence of appetence is the moral lesson in that wonderful romance. It is a fact sometimes forgotten, but which moralists and religious teachers might ponder with profit to themselves and increased safety to their disciples, that appetence is the one persistent, abiding, unchanging element in man's psychic life. For the exercise of the sensibility, some stimulus is necessary. As already indicated, this stimulus may be either a physical disturbance or an idea. In the case of a sensation it is always the former; in the case of an emotion it is the latter. An exercise of intellect is thus seen to be a prerequisite for an exercise of the emotions. The writer remembers once being present at an Aid Society entertainment, where, on the program, 28 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE it was announced that a certain gentlemen, well known for his musical ability, would sing a new song. Mr. A. was greeted with applause as he came on the stage, and to the tune " Con- trast, " he proceeded to give us, "I feel like I feel like I feel," repeated eight times to complete the strain. Before he was half way through, he could scarcely be heard for the uproarious laughter of his audience. Yet few- who laughed that night stopped to think that the really funny thing in the whole affair was the psychological absurdity, the impossibility in fact, of a man feeling intensely with not a thing, apprehended by the intellect, to feel about. Let it be remembered that he who would move hearts, must either give his hearers some adequate idea, or must so stimulate their own thinking that they invent one which is in fact the approved rhetorical device. The Feeling proper is the central element the one best known, in any exercise of the sensibility, and for our purposes it is not necessary at this stage of our inquiry to dwell upon it. It is that to which we naturally turn, that of which we think when any exercise of the sensibility is mentioned. If I say "tooth- ache, " the one thing which is most probably suggested to you is not the peculiar physiological constitution whereby it is made possible that a tooth may ache, nor yet the abuse of those organs that furnished the stimulus, nor the effect in the decay of the teeth; the word suggests to you, first of all, that excruciat- ing ache. It may be asked why we have not given desires as a class of sensibilities; some psychologists do so; and it is a fruitful source of confusion, in their classification, for desires do not constitute a class by themselves. A little self-examination will show you that desire attends the exercise of each and every one of the sensibilities a desire proportioned to the energy of the experience. It may be, often is, only a desire for the cessation or continuance of the experience, but desire there is, in every experience of the sensibility, which rises into consciousness. The last element to be noticed is an organic effect. That psychical action of some kind does have an organic effect is well EXERCISE OF THE SENSIBILITIES 29 known. It now seems probable that it is an exercise of the Sensibility which is effective in working changes in the organ- ism. As an example, the effect of severe intellectual effort in causing cold hands and feet is cited. But if one will examine his experience carefully, he will find that this phenomenon occurs only when so absorbing is his interest that he works under the stimulus of excited emotion. It is the emotion which produces the effect. It is doubtful whether an intellectual act alone ever produces a discernible effect upon the organism. Its action is indirect. Intellectual action gives birth to an idea, and that idea may become the stimulus of an emotion. And it is the emotion which causes the flashing eye and the flushing cheek. Literature is full of references to the organic effect of some emotions. Two very old examples may be given: "Now a thing was secretly brought to me and my ear received a little thereof, in thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men. Fear came upon me, and trembling which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face. The hair of my flesh stood up." Job 4: 12-15. And in Virgil we have the familiar line : "Obstipui, steteruntque comae et vox faucibus haesit." With the increased interest in the study of Physiological Psychology, much attention is being given to these effects, and an attempt, only partially successful, has been made to identify every emotion with some bodily movement as its concomitant and sign. When so much is discerned on the surface of the body, what must be going on in those more delicate tissues, nerve fibres, and brain cells? That every feeling registers itself in some permanent change in nerve tissue and tends to make habits of feeling permanent is perhaps a rather hasty induction. But if care be taken to guard against that seductive lapse of judgment which would identify the feeling with the organic change, it would seem to be a safe working hypothesis for the man who would truly educate either himself or others. CHAPTER VII THE QUANTITY AND QUALITY OF THE SENSIBILITIES WHILE every exercise of the sensibility has all the elements we have named, states and acts of feeling do still differ from each other in Quantity and in Quality. By the quantity of a sensibility we mean the energy with which the soul acts in any given exercise. In our language, most words which describe our emotional states have compara- tive and superlative variations. "Thou hast put gladness in my heart more than in the time that their corn and their wine increased." There is "the saddest word of tongue or pen." The school girl declares, "I was the maddest to-day that I ever was in my life." The consciousness of each one will assure him that he lives in his various sensitive states in varying degrees of energy. Some are more intense than others. No doubt it would be a great convenience if we could measure psychic energy as we measure physical forces, by pounds of pressure, by so many horse power, so many candle power, by ergs, watts, and calories. But in the present state of science it can not be done. The true psychometer has not yet been invented. Various tests of the quantity of the sensibility have been proposed, all of them as we shall see fallacious. It is almost impossible to avoid estimating the intensity of the psy- chic activity by the organic effect. This tendency has a large place in the philosophy of the "fellow who whistles to keep his courage up, " of those who "for the good of the party" applaud the speech they know was poor, and of those "jolly rooters" who would conceal their mortification at prospective defeat by yelling louder than ever. These things are abnormal. But even if the test, honestly applied, were approximately true of the same person at different times, it is absolutely untrust- 30 THE QUANTITY AND QUALITY 31 worthy as between different persons. The writer once heard a professional man describe a ludicrous experience of his early years. He said that as a young man he had unlimited confi- dence in the sincerity and intensity of feeling of the person who wept. Said he, "In those days a crying woman could wrap me round her little finger, but I have learned that tears lie more shallow in some eyes than in others. " Again it has been proposed to measure the intensity of the sensibilities by their supposed effectiveness. The sensibilities are correctly called the Motive powers, i.e., the moving powers of human life. So that man is supposed to have felt most keenly who acts. This view totally ignores the activity of the Will, in which as we shall presently see the man himself determines to which one of several motive forces he will surrender himself. And yet it is not to be questioned that very much of human conduct is determined (we do not say necessarily determined) by the difference in energy with which the same object appeals to the sensibilities of different men. Overlooking this difference has been the occasion of much Pharisaical self-congratulation on the one hand, and of much uncharitable judgment on the other; e. g., I like the smell of whiskey, so doesjny neighbor; we are passing a saloon together, I walk on, he walks in; he gets drunk, I come home sober. "See what a good man I am. It is folly to talk of the need of restraint on the sale of intoxicants; look at me. Any man can let it alone if he wants to like I did. " Sure enough he can and yet perhaps had I as much to resist in letting it alone as my neighbor, I would be in the gutter also. The Quality of a sensibility is a distinction "based on the kind of good which the exercise of that sensibility conditions. " With this in mind one would hardly deem it necessary to say that sensibilities differ in quality. And yet there have been those who say that the worthiness of the sensibilities is measured only in the quantum of pleasure experienced in their satisfac- tion. Even Paley said that "Pleasures differ in nothing but in continuance and intensity." It is to the credit of John Stuart Mill that he said, "It would be absurd, that while estimating all other things, quality is considered as well as quantity, the 32 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE estimation of pleasure should be supposed to depend on quantity alone. " No more soothing philosophy could be found for the man who desires to live a life of unbridled appetite than that which denies all distinction of the sensibilities other than that found in the amount of pleasure yielded in their exercise this of course ranging all the way from what we may call the nega- tive quantity of excruciating agony to the hilarity of an eternal debauch. Eating gives me pleasure, so does an hour of conver- sation with my friend. Do those pleasures differ only in their quantity? The common sense of mankind will always say no. The affirmative will be maintained by two classes of persons only: those who have a life of vicious indulgence which they wish to excuse, and the philosophers who have a theory to defend. A clear recognition and an honest acceptance of the doctrine of the quality of the sensibilities will give the key to a solution of a vexed problem in philosophy. It has been assumed that whatever is good would be a legitimate object of human effort and devotion. The next question is: What is good? The discussion has proceeded, while the disputants ignored the fact that the term good had somewhat changed its meaning. Let us then at this point try to determine the generic meaning of the "good." The complete definition of a term may not always be obtained by a study of its popular use, and yet that use will likely take us to the root of the matter give us the generic idea of the term. Is there, then, any one idea which is always implied when the term good is used? To study the use of the term, take a number of examples. A lecturer relates this incident of his childhood: It was his delight to frequent the kitchen, where savory articles of food were being prepared, and where an indulgent mother would gratify him with tastes of sundry custards, cakes, and puddings in the making. His habits of prying curiosity grew, until his mother thought a lesson was needed. Seeing her stirring something in a jar, the child asks: "What is that, Ma? Is it good?" "Yes, my child, very good indeed." "Give me a taste." Whereupon a generous spoonful was thrust into the open mouth, the next THE QUANTITY AND QUALITY 33 moment to be spewed out with much gagging and sputtering, while the abused complaint, "'Taint neither," was met with the solemn declaration: "Yes it is, my child, very good yeast, indeed." The writer was once present in a home when a sick, fretful, and peevish child was induced to the taking of a dose of necessary medicine by the assurance that "it is good." Now those mothers were truthful women and excellent mothers. In these cases they did, in words, tell the truth. Yet it would have been impossible to have persuaded those children that they had not been lied to. The word "good" had a different mean- ing from the mother's standpoint and the child's. The mother used it with the mental reservation that she meant so and so, but she expected and desired that the child should give it another significance a meaning from the standpoint of the child. Was there anything common to the mother's and the child's ideas of the "good"? Take another illustration: Some of you have seen a painting like this : A young man with a haggard and sensual face sits on the side of a bed, in a luxu- riously furnished but disordered room. He has stopped in the act of dressing to survey the confusion about him; overturned chairs and tables, a lamp upset, and a window curtain burned, packs of cards and empty whiskey bottles scattered about, in a measure offer an explanation which the youngjaaan voices by saying, "What a mighty good time I must have had last night." In contrast with this think of the ancient bard as he exclaims: "Oh! taste and see that the Lord is good. " Can any one discern any thing common to these .most diverse experiences? They seem separated by almost infinite lengths, and yet there is one thing common to them and that is a gratified sensibility. The good is always relative to something and somebody, but men will always speak of the gratified sensibility as good. We need not argue with him that it is not. We may show him that at the end "it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder," but the subject of a gratified sensibility can not do otherwise than call it so far a "good." It is not strange that we shrink from admitting the propriety of the application of the term "good," in any sense, to things 34 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE which through our whole lives we have been taught, and cor- rectly taught, to look upon with disgust and loathing. But remember what we are attempting. We seek to find the generic, the universal element in the "good," by observing the most di- verse uses of the word. Unquestionably we have seen those uses. The riotous debauchee does speak of his revel as a good time. And the sweetest singer of the ages calls his reverent communion with the Infinite good. If we compare the two men in character, we find one of them pure, the other vile. We find one a blessing to society, the other a curse. Comparing the effect of the two experiences, one tends to life, the other hastens the passage of its subject through the gates of death. Each man has honestly described his experience. We can account for their employment of the same term in no other way than by believing that which on the surface seems the fact, viz., that these diverse experiences do have something in common. Very dis- similar things may have a common element. Here is a banquet hall. Its tables are spread with the most luscious viands from every clime. Seated at the tables are representatives of the highest intelligence, refinement, and culture of our twentieth century civilization. A mile away, out in a stagnant marsh, is the putrid carcass of a dead horse. Around it, over it, partially within it, quarreling, fighting for chief places at the feast, is a flock of turkey buzzards. Can you imagine (unless in the sketch previously drawn) two pictures more unlike than these? And yet you must agree with me that there is one thing common to both. Each group of beings is engaged in the satisfaction of appetite. But what different appetites! So in the case under consideration. The debauchee has a gratified sensibility and calls it good. The saint, in his rapture of holy reverie has a gratified sensibility and calls it good; but how diverse the "goods"! what a difference in the quality of the two sensibilities! If our observation here is correct, we need not be surprised should we find that the correctness of conduct is not always determined in the choosing of a good rather than an evil, but in the choice of one good rather than another good. The saint in our illustration, unless of finer clay THE QUANTITY AND QUALITY 35 than most saints are made of, was not insensible to the tempta- tions to a life of riotous indulgence. He has made a choice between goods. Some one may say that the trouble with the young man in our illustration was that he did not know "what was good for him. " This observation suggests the subject of the next chapter, in which the place of the intellect in the moral consciousness will be discussed. CHAPTER VIII THE INTELLECT ITS PLACE IN THE MORAL CONSCIOUSNESS So interwoven in human life are intellectual and emotional states and products that it is impossible to complete what we have to say of one without reference to the other. The func- tions of the Sensibility in our moral life .can be most clearly seen when we have also considered the manner in which intellectual activities enter into those experiences which we call moral. As the intellect is simply the soul endowed with and exercising the power to know, whatever there is in a man's moral life which is of the nature of knowing is an intellectual act or state. 1. To know the several states of the soul, even though they be states of feeling or willing, is an act of intellect; for example, the discernment of the motives by which I am prompted in any line of conduct. 2. The idea about which the soul is exercised in its emo- tional experiences is an intellectual product. 3. The intellect is called into action in the application of all the general formulas for the regulation of human conduct. For example, the oft repeated injunctions, "Put yourself in his place" or " Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you," etc., involve acts of consciousness, sense perception, memory, and the creative imagination all intellectual. 4. But probably the chief function of the intellect in our moral life is in the formation of our moral judgments. In doing this, the soul is under the necessity of passing judgment on the kind of good, which the exercise of a sensibility conditions. We say of two goods, both present in our thought, that one is higher than the other. This is an intellectual act, just as much as it is to say of two books, which I hold in my hand, that one is larger or heavier than the other. Does any one ask how 36 THE INTELLECT 37 the intellect determines the rank of goods? Why not ask how it determines the relative size of the two books? In many cases you form a judgment at once, as you place the books side by side. In other cases you may find it necessary to apply to them a common measure. You lay a ruler on each, and call that the larger which covers the greater extent of the ruler. You have applied your intuitive power of inspection to the common measure, instead of to the books; but in either case, if one ask you how you know, you must fall back ultimately on the soul's inherent power to perceive. Were you to experiment with a person, and find him unable to comprehend that this portion of the ruler, i 2 3, is greater than this, / , you would abandon the effort to teach him measurements. Now in deter- mining the rank of goods, there may indeed sometimes be use for that calculating morality which inquires for "the greatest (amount of) good to the greatest number, " but we insist that, ultimately, you will fall back on some of those primitive cog- nitions, which in any department of experience lie at the basis of our knowledge. The moral judgment, for example, which affirms the joy of gratitude to outrank the selfish gratification-oi appetite, is based upon the intuition of Design. The standard, with reference to which goods are graded, is found in the capacities of man as man. Both science and tradition affirm that man is placed at the end of a series of sentient beings, in each of which are found capacities for a particular kind of life. It is very common to consider the possession of any capacity in an animal as a mark of design an indication of an end in its being. In a bed of fossils, the naturalist will note the appearance of a particular type of tooth as indicating the previous existence of an animal made to live in a particular manner. If human beings were capable only of the satisfaction of the impulses to eat and drink, to sleep and lust, we would not trouble ourselves in a search for other ends than those which might be met in so doing. But when we find this animal endowed with a capacity in addition to these, the capacity for the exercise of a new sen- timent, gratitude for example, we call this added capacity a higher, and the good a worthier one. 38 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE It is not to be understood that men, in the determination of the quality of goods, always pass through this tedious process of reasoning. If you find thrust upon you the opportunity to satisfy your appetite at the expense and at the damage of a benefactor, you do not reason; you simply and directly affirm one course of conduct to be worthier, more befitting your man- hood than another, in an act of intuitive judgment. Perhaps the relation of intellect and sensibility to each other, in our moral experiences, may be best seen by supposing a concrete case, a typical one, paraphrased from an old story: A little girl stands under the spreading branches of a large tree, the fruit of which her father has forbidden her to eat. Her attention is called to the fruit which hangs in luscious clusters just above her head. She looks and sees (intellect) that the fruit is "good for food" (sensibility), "and pleasant to the eyes" (sensibility again). On the other hand she remembers her father's command (intellect), she hesitates, moved by her gratitude to him (sensibility). In imagination she forecasts (intellect) the pleasure of his approval. Now here are two goods. They are both good. She can not have both, though she desires both. She must choose between them. It is the office of the intellect to pass judgment on the quality of these two goods. Whether this is done by quick and sudden intuition or by a long process of reasoning, the forming of that judgment is an act of knowing, and is to be classed with intellectual acts and processes. But so soon as that is done, and (we will suppose) father's approval is judged to be a higher, a worthier good than the other, there rises necessarily, by the very constitution of her being, a sense of obligation to choose the one and to reject the other, and this feeling of obligation we must classify with the sensibilities. It is possible that some one may think that the views here presented (if accepted) have in them dangers to his philosophy, theology, or preconceived notions of ethics. For this reason let us restate briefly some of the things we have set forth regarding the relations of the intellect and sensibility to our moral life. But first let it be remembered that the man with the scientific THE INTELLECT 39 spirit, like the righteous man, must and can afford to be brave. He must fear nothing but error. He must not call a halt in any investigation of facts because he suddenly thinks that some preconceived opinion is threatened. He may very properly be cautious in his inferences, but he must ia.ce facts. To illustrate: I am not bound to accept every inference which the devotee of evolution makes as he returns from his researches in Biology, but you might very properly call in question my intellectual honesty were I to refuse to look at his facts, e.g., the similar structure of the arm of a man and the wing of a bird. Now at the present stage of our inquiries, we are only examining our moral life for facts. We are simply trying to observe the part which the well known human faculties of intellect, sensibility, and will bear in man's moral experience. I. The sensibilities furnish the field for the exercise of the moral life. That is, the natural capacity of some being for pleasure or pain is a necessary condition for moral activity. If we consider the moral life objectively, you call an action good or bad, only as it affects the welfare of some sentignt being. If we inquire of the moral life subjectively, we say that its very essence is in the choice which the man makes among the several "goods" presented to him, and you call the man virtu- ous or vicious as he chooses to gratify this or that sensibility. II. We said that it is the office of the intellect to form the moral judgments. We now make what is really a different form of the same statement, when we say that it is the office of the intellect to determine the content of duty at any given time and place. However the thing may be done, it is an intellectual act. If the things presented affect myself alone, it is an act of intellect to determine which good outranks the other which is the higher and best befits a man. If I look at my fellow to see how my proposed action will affect him, it is an intellectual process which determines that it is this action which is benevo- lent rather than the other. Many a good sermon has been preached from the text: "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and lean not to thine own understanding," but let no one suppose that in so trusting he has relieved himself of the neces- 40 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE sity for the use of his own mental powers in the ordering of his life. If suspecting, as well I may, that I am unable to guide myself through the mazes of philosophical opinions, I desire to commit myself to some authority to some revelation from Deity still the act of determining the competency of any proposed prophet, priest, church, or book, as well as the inter- pretation of the message is an act of intellect, and of intellect alone. But whatever the basis of the moral judgment, whether it be made on the rank of the two "goods," on the happiness promised to my fellowmen, or on a supposed revelation from God, when once it is made we say: III. The moral feelings follow the moral judgments. Those feelings, thus dependent, are two: one of obligation before the choice or act, and one of self -approval or self-reproach, as the case may be, after it. When the soul as intellect has passed judgment on any thing and said, "This is the right thing, " immediately there rises a sense of obligation to choose that thing or to do that deed. And after the deed is done or the choice made, a feeling of self-approval or self-reproach, as the case may be, invariably follows. This, too, is absolutely irrespective of the objective correctness of the moral judgment on which the choice was made. I wait for any philosopher to show me any other guide out of these mazes any I say save this : The human intellect passing judgment on the exercises of the human sensibility. It may sometimes prove a poor guide, but I have no other. "If then the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness." CHAPTER IX THE WILL THE Will has been defined as "the soul endowed with and exercising the power to choose." The moral philosopher has no fault to find with this definition, for it is with choices properly so called that he is chiefly concerned. The only reason for hesitation and critical examination of the definition is the dispute among philosophers as to the existence of such a power. The dispute would have been less bitter had there been a little more caution in the psychological classification. Some have erred in confounding the will with external action. One eminent psychologist seems to dispense with the term "will" altogether, suggesting the division of human activities into "Thinking, Feeling, and Doing." But Choosing and Do- ing are clearly not identical. Another blunder is in the assump- tion that every human action is preceded by a choice properly so called to act in that manner. A teacher sat at her desk one afternoon, when she was startled by a clear, shrill whistle, coming unmistakably from the corner of the room where sat the most attentive, orderly, and studious pupil in the school, a clear eyed boy of ten years, now all blushes and confusion. When accused of this infraction of good order, and facing sum- mary punishment, he managed to stammer: "I tell you, Miss Jones, I didn't whistle, it just whistled itself. " That boy, out of the depths of his self-consciousness, had recognized a dis- tinction which many psychologists have missed in their imper- fect classification. There are human actions, even aside from those called "reflex," conscious activities and involving the use of voluntary muscles, which do not result from and are not preceded by a choice at all. If the faculty called "Will" is to include every psychical act not included in knowing and feeling, we evidently need a subdivision of will to mark the 42 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE distinction between our "whistling" school boy and the one of whom we would say "he did it willfully." Dr. James seems to feel this necessity, for he speaks of choices "with and with- out deliberation," the former term being used for what we be- lieve to be choice properly so called. But deliberation, though generally present, is not the characteristic which sets off choices in a class by themselves. The one essential mark of a choice, that which distinguishes it from every other act and state of the soul, is the presence of a self-determining activity. A popular lecturer, recently holding up to ridicule certain religious teach- ing, told of a little boy, who in an altercation with a playmate, had spit in her face. Appropriate punishment was administered at the time, and in the evening, when the boy was about to say his prayers, his mother took occasion to paint in darkest hue the conduct of the day, charging all malicious and evil propensities on that "old serpent the Devil." But the little fellow retorted: "Well, now, mamma, I don't know much about what the Devil does, but that spitting I tell you I did it my own self." That child recognized the existence in him of a power of self-determination, and that the possession of this power was the ground of responsibility. Choice implies alternativity of conduct. That is that an^- other act was possible. That being can not be said to choose, which is driven helplessly in any course of conduct by forces either within or without. The writer remembers hearing that prince of thinkers, Dr. Emory Miller, in a lecture, discuss the characteristics of three classes of being: (i) that class which is represented by the chair or table, so wide, so long, so high. It is here in this room, with no power to change its form or to move in space, the helpless victim of forces without it; (2) the great mass of living creatures like the fish, the bird, the bee, the quadruped, each one in its life necessarily manifesting its inherent constitution, acting as it is compelled to act by the forces within it; (3) a class of beings marked by the power of self-determination, feeling, it is true, the surging of impulses within, but able, on occasion, to arise in the self-assertive dignity of human being and declare and make good the declara- THE WILL 43 tion of his own self-mastery. "Thus, " said he, "we have these three: thingality, brutality, and personality." There is 'a vol- ume of philosophy in those three words. There have been those who denied the existence of will, meaning thereby the power of self-determination, who have contended that all so-called choices are necessitated by the inner constitution of the man as acted upon by a given environ- ment; that what we are accustomed to call a choice is only the response of the soul to the more energetic sensibility. Several considerations have made this view seem plausible to some: i. Biological researches have in many ways narrowed the chasm between man and those beings which we call brutes. Though many resemblances between the human and the brute body have been known for ages, it may be safely said that to-day we recognize a degree of similarity which was not dreamed of fifty years ago. Resemblances between human and brute intelli- gence, too, are continually coming to light. If we possessed the facilities for studying the brute's psychical processes as we can those of digestion and secretion, it might possibly appear that the Darwinian would have new and greater reason to argue the common ancestry of the dog, the pig, and the man. Now it is generally conceded no one thinks it worth while to dispute it that the brute is not a self-determining being. The brute's determination is the response of the brute soul to the brute environment. He always yields to the most energetic sensibility. Every lad who has ever taken the slops to the hogs has in mind a striking illustration of this fact. On the appearance of the swill pail they all rush for it. They can not do otherwise. They can only be kept back while the swill is being emptied into the trough by exciting some sensibility more energetic than appetite. The more hungry they are the greater the energy which must be put into the counter irritant. The common plan is to thump the pig over the nose with a stick. He stands back. He can not do otherwise, now, than stand back. He stands back and squeals. He can not do other- wise than squeal. Withdraw the stick, and once more he rushes to the trough. He can not do otherwise. He is very determined, 44 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE but not self-determined, and it is not in his capacity to become so. Now it is a short cut, and like very much scientific infer- ence, to argue from the pig to the man. 2. Much of the life of many men fails to reveal to us any trace of the exercise of self-determination. Many men do live very much as the brute lives. Excite one set of sensibilities and you have one type of a man, excite another set of sensibili- ties and you have an entirely different one. The fickleness of crowds under the spell of orators and actors who know how to play with human passions is well known. To these considerations it may be answered that the moral philosopher is not contending that men always make choices, but that they can make them. Very much of human life may be lived on the brute level, but if at any time the man reveals the power to "take himself in hand" so to speak, if at any time he does exercise self-determination, then the power of making choices is a factor to be reckoned with in any analysis of his constitution. Some speculative objections have been urged against the doctrine of human freedom: 1. It has been said that in affirming the doctrine of human freedom, we run athwart the universal law of causation; that according to this doctrine we would have some events choices without causes. In reply, it may be said that so far is this from being true that the advocates of freedom refer these events to the one cause capable of producing them a self-determining agent. 2. Again it has been urged that if, in emergencies, men can freely choose their course of conduct, there ceases to be any philosophy of history; that it would be impossible from -what men have done to forecast what men will do. We reply, even so. While such a large portion of the lives of so many men, as we have already conceded, is lived on the brute plane, we might reasonably suppose that the conduct of masses^of men could be forecasted with reasonable probability. But such fore- casts become more and more uncertain as the size of the group diminishes, and if you attempt to predict the conduct of individ- ual men, you will be forced to the conclusion that history and politics are not "exact sciences." THE WILL 45 3. But perhaps the objection which one hears most frequently among devout men is that the freedom of human will is incon- sistent with the foreknowledge of Deity. If man is free, if he has alternativity of conduct, that conduct is a contingency until it occurs, and so is not a subject for knowledge. But if God knows that an event will occur then it must occur, and there can be no contingency about it. However, a man may think himself free, he must at last do the thing which God has known from all eternity that he would do. This argument is not as common now as it was in the days when a fatalistic theology was more popular. Still it is heard with sufficient frequency that the student is likely at some time to have it thrust upon him, and to be puzzled by it. It might be in order to inquire, where- fore is the absolute and total foreknowledge of Deity thus assumed as a sacredly incontrovertible proposition? Why must the well nigh universal conviction of men that they do make choices be set aside, lest if it be received the foreknowledge of Deity might be called in question? We have read in an old book that "his eternal power and Godhead" "are clearly seen," but you will observe that the great philosopher, who uttered those words, did not name omniscience among the things so clearly discerned. But as most advocates of human freedom have no wish to call in question the doctrine of the divine omniscience, and would shrink from the appearance of irreverence which some would think involved in so doing, we will not raise that question here. We will examine the matter from the standpoint of those who sing: "Past, present, future to thy sight, At once their varied scenes display." 1. The objection in question assumes that the means at the command of Deity for obtaining knowledge are only such as are at the command of men. Finite understanding may well be modest in its professions of knowledge of contingent events, but who can tell the avenues of knowledge open to the Infinite? 2. The objection overlooks the difference between the cer- tainty of an event and the necessity of an event. To overlook this is not unnatural, because many events are both necessary 46 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE and certain, and in common speech the words are used inter- changeably, although they have widely different meanings. The necessity of an event lies in that adjustment of forces energies which is capable of bringing it to pass. The cer- tainty of the event, on the other hand, is a purely subjective matter; it lies in a knowing mind and has no causative energy whatever. To illustrate: You see in the air a stone which I have just thrown from a sling; the striking of the earth by that stone is an event in the future; it is a necessary event; it is also a certain event; but the necessity has nothing to do with the certainty. The necessity lies in the actual adjustment of three forces : (a) the energy of my arm which thrust it out into space in a given direction and with a given velocity; (b) the resistance of the air through which it is propelled; and (c) the constant downward pull of the earth, which you call gravity. The certainty is in your mind. You are certain it will fall, but your certainty of its fall does not effect its fall in the least. It would have fallen just the same had you been in ever so much doubt about its falling, as indeed you are as to the particu- lar spot of earth which it will strike. Knowledge implies two things. "Objectively it implies reality: subjectively it implies certainty." The certainty does not effect the reality. The knowledge that something has been, is now, or is going to be, has nothing whatever to do with its being so. In support of the doctrine of human freedom, we would urge that the truth of the doctrine is rendered very probable: 1. By the presence in all languages of words which assume it. Men do not give names to experiences which have no reality. 2. By the language of men in judgment of their fellows. You can not at any length discuss the conduct of your fellow man without bestowing on him words of praise or blame. These words would have no meaning at all if you considered him always and everywhere the inert victim of forces either without or within which he could not control. Praise and blame of your neighbor are inconceivable, unmeaning, and unreasonable, except as in your thought you have invested him with a power of alternativity of conduct. THE WILL 47 3. A similar remark applies to the words of men in regard to their own conduct. We are familiar with the sentiments of self-approval or of self-reproach, always implying either praise or blame of ourselves. These sentiments always imply more than satisfaction with good, or regret at ill results. They always involve the idea that our own free choice was a deter- mining factor in those results. 4. But the crowning proof of the existence of this faculty is found in the experience of the individual. We know that we can make choices, because we find ourselves making them. I know that I do sometimes make choices. I know too that when I make them I could have made different ones. I know too that the soul in making them is eminently active, and though states of knowing and feeling both precede and follow it, an act of choice is really an act different in kind from either of them. Now the student of Psychology must stand by the facts of consciousness, and give no heed to the objections based on the consequences to any philosophical or theological dogma which are supposed to follow the admission of a given fact. When a man can not argue five minutes in denial of human freedom without revealing that he can not do otherwise than believe that both he and his auditor are free, it is time that we cease to argue with him. CHAPTER X CONDITIONS OF CHOICE THE will, as the power to choose, does not, like the representa- tive power, tend to incessant activity. We have already called attention to the fact that in the ordinary course of life there is very much of human conduct in which this power bears no part. It is in a very subordinate sense, if at all, in which the man whose life is swayed by the storms of passion can be said to choose. The blameworthiness of men often lies, not so much in making wrong choices, as in the fact that they do not choose at all, but allow themselves either to drift in the current of other men's lives, or to act without hesitation in the direction toward which they are moved by the more energetic sensibility. An ancient moral teacher pronounced on men the direst calam- ities, not so much for evil choices as because they "did not choose the fear of the Lord." The power to choose must be clearly distinguished from external action the power to manifest the choice. This is external and requires muscular activity. A choice is wholly a psychical product. The fact that a man finds himself bound and gagged, that he cannot move hand or foot, argues nothing against the fact that he may choose liberty. The will is not the power to choose without a -motive. Some, in their effort to exalt the dignity of will, would repre- sent it as a cold, calculating faculty, making motiveless choices in an atmosphere charged only with intellectual ideas. Not so: a motiveless choice will not be found in the whole range of your experience. This leads us to observe that the will is not the moving power in human life. Men displaying great energy in the conduct of their affairs are sometimes spoken of as having "strong will power." Perhaps so perhaps not. The will does not impel to action. That is the function of the sensi- 48 CONDITIONS OF CHOICE 49 bility. It is an act of will to determine to which sensibility a man will yield himself by which one he will be moved. Material analogies should be used cautiously in speaking of psychical facts, but if a human life may be likened to an engine on the track, the sensibilities will be figured by the heated steam in the boiler, while the office of the will may be illustrated by the hand of the engineer on the lever. As he moves it this way or that, the engine is propelled, by the steam, forward or backward along the track. There are conditions necessary for the exercise of will in choice. In contending most earnestly for the existence of will and for its freedom, we do not argue that it has unlimited possi- bilities of action. Though affirming that the ability to make choices characterizes the normally developed man, I would not affirm that all imaginable choices are possible, or that the same choices are possible to each and every man, or that all choices which are possible are made with equal energy, or that a man 1 , now having the power to make a choice, will always have it. On the other hand, observation will show to be true what would speculatively seem probable, that as there are conditions for the exercise of intellect and sensibility, so there are prerequisites for the exercise of will. As there are limitations to human knowledge, so there are bounds to the field of human choices. As intellect and sensibility are subject to education, so is the will. As intellect and sensibility may be impaired until the man becomes a driveling idiot or a heartless wretch, so may the power to choose be dwarfed and stunted until the man becomes a helpless changeling. The conditions for making choices are: 1. That the soul shall be in a state of rational conscious- ness. Those determinations which are made in sleep, in dementia, in intoxication, in anaesthesia, are not choices. In them the soul is driven helplessly by the force of an excited and energetic sensibility. There is determination, but not self- determination. 2. In order that a choice may be made, there must be at least two "goods" presented to consciousness. These goods may be tangible or ideal; they may be material objects, or So STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE states of the soul, continued pleasant sensations or relief from painful ones; the point to be emphasized is, that there must be at least two goods presented. The action of the soul in the presence of only one is ridiculed in the proverb about "Hob- son's choice, " a case in which there is no choice at all. 3. There must be some finite ratio between the pressures of the two affected sensibilities. We observed that the sensibilities differed in quantity. The experience of any man will assure him that the several sensibilities press him toward action, with varying degrees of energy. The lightning bolt struck with varying degrees of force, and electric shocks were felt to vary in intensity, many years before physicists had invented a means to measure the force of the so-called electric current. Let it not be forgotten that there is psychic energy, though we have no means to measure it and no units in which to express its varia- tions. Let any two sensibilities which come in competition be represented by x and y. The ratio of the pressure of these sensibilities will be indicated by the fraction x/y. Now with the brute, if the relative value of these quantities were known, his action could be predicted, for he will always yield himself to the pressure of the more energetic sensibility. It is the normal condition of man that his action is not necessitated by the ratio of these sensibilities. Within a large range of variation of the value of x/y, the man is self-determining. Against the pressure of a very large x he may commit himself to the course of conduct indicated by a very feeble y. My con- tention is that it is conceivable, and as a matter of fact does sometimes occur in human life, that the disparity of values of x and y is such that a choice is impossible, and the man is help- lessly swept along in the direction of the more energetic sensi- bility. In the fraction x/y, you may assign to x and y any values from zero to infinity. So long as those values are both finite, you have a finite ratio and a choice is possible; but let x = i and y = o, and you have x/y = 1/0 = infinity, and choice is impossible. In this case let x represent appetite and y represent conscience. Let x be infinite and y any finite quantity, and you again have an infinite ratio; choice is an CONDITIONS OF CHOICE 51 impossibility, and the man is irresponsible. I freely concede that this doctrine, unless received with caution, has in it much of peril. It would be a dangerous thing to tell the devotee of unbridled license that you clear him of responsibility for his conduct since you are satisfied that his case is hopeless, his power of choice is gone, and he can not do otherwise than he does. On the other hand, if our proposition is correct if it is a possibility that appetites and passions may be cultivated by vicious indulgence to a point where they become absolute masters of the man, so that he can only be treated as the irresponsible beast; if this is true, it then becomes a perilous thing to hold out to the man the idea that at any point which he may reach in his downward career it will be possible to reform. It ought to be one of the most powerful deterrents to the young man entering on a course of vicious indulgence,\ that there is a point, no one can tell where, in that down ward \- course, where return and reform are impossible, because man- hood will have been thrown away; the very power to make a choice being lost. A great temperance worker, who had himself many times reformed, only to be again thrown in the ditch, found that his only safety lay in keeping himself where his appetite would not be excited. He was accustomed to describe his condition thus: "There are times when you might place out in front of me a cannon loaded to the muzzle, at its mouth place a glass of grog, and I know that the instant I touch it the cannon will explode and blow my body into a thousand fragments. Let me get just one whiff of that steaming grog, and I have absolutely no alternative but to take it." Those who knew the man believed that he correctly described his condition. Our doctrine is a fearful one, and the awful thing about it is that every year human experience is adding to the probability of its truth. Man is normally a moral person. He is, within a wide range of the sensibilities, absolutely self- determining. He can by his own deeds bring himself into a condition where choice henceforth is an impossibility. He can thrust himself down to the level of the brute. Of him the decree has gone forth: "Let him that is filthy be filthy still." CHAPTER XI EFFECTS OF THE EXERCISE OF WILL THE WILL has been the least studied of any of the great divisions of the faculties of the soul. The obvious reason for this is the brevity of its action. Acts of knowing and states of feeling are somewhat continuous, and this continued time of their action, in the case of the intellect at least, gives oppor- tunity for their careful study. Not so with an act of will. It is absolutely instantaneous. The "goods" between which a choice is to Be made may be before the mind for any length of time. Deliberation may be long and tedious, suspense may be painful, and yet nothing done of the nature of a choice. When at last the soul does choose, it is the work of an instant. It is complete and done. True, it may be reconsidered and reversed, but that is only the case of another choice, with a history like the first. The will is best studied in its effects. However brief the activity of choosing, the results continue long enough to give opportunity for careful study. In some cases so enduring is the effect that some one has been led to say that "every choice is for eternity." The first and perhaps the most marked effect of an act of choice is found in a changed attitude of the soul itself. Poli- ticians and jurists have a word that describes this attitude better than any other. A juror is rejected because he is believed to be " committed." A lobbyist approaches a man, soliciting his vote for some measure, but is met with the answer, "I am committed." The meaning in each of these cases is clear. The man has made his choice as to the side he will take in the given controversy. His attitude toward it is not what it once was. There is a somewhat in his mental content which will make any but a given course of conduct difficult, perhaps 52 EFFECTS OF THE EXERCISE OF WILL 53 impossible. An effort to induce him to swerve from that position is supposed to be useless. An act of choosing brings the soul into and leaves it in a state of committal. This attitude of committal is manifested in a changed condition of the intellect. To know is to "be certain that something is," and within certain limits, what a man knows, i.e., what he is certain of, is largely determined by what he has chosen to know. A choice having been made, all facts which favor the position taken are readily discerned and cordially welcomed, while those of a contrary character are thrust aside or explained on some hypothesis supposed to be consistent with the theory adopted. It is unkind to charge, with dishonesty, the man who " e'en though vanquished yet will argue still." It is cruel to say, "none so blind as those who will not see." While his choice, in all probability honestly made, remains, the fact is he can not^ see. There is something more than caricature in the story of the enthusiast in regard to perpetual motion, who came to a physicist with a finely wrought model of his machine. He was answered: "Unfortunately, sir, the facts are against your theory," and straightway retorted, "Well, then, so much the worse for the facts." A more truly honest answer could hardly have been given. There is correct psychology in the proverb that "a man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still." Of course he is. The convincing was from your stand- point. From his point of view, he is not convinced at all, and his will remaining as it is he can not be. Every political crisis furnishes examples of the widely divergent views of equally good and acute men, with equal access to the facts. The explanation of their different attitudes is probably found in the diverse states of committal, under which the great bulk of the facts have been apprehended. Sometimes this fact impresses the rustic victim of it as something uncanny. Hear one of them: "I tell you, there's no use talking; men is just naturally born to be Demmycrats or the other|thing and there ain 't no reason in it at all. Now look at me and Charlie R ; we was boys down in Kentucky, and we was chums until one day when we was ten-year-old kids we went to the county seat to 54 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE hear a political speaking. Andrew Jackson spoke on one side, and Henry Clay on the other. I tell you it was a big day. I know I did not understand a word they said and I don't believe Charlie did either; we just liked the way they pawed the air and tore their clothes, and the way the crowd took on. Well, as we went home, Charlie and me got to talking, which made the best speech; he said Clay did, and I said Jackson did; he called me a liar, and I mashed his nose for him. I tell you I don't understand much of their argying and big talk, but some way from that time on, I just couldn't be anything but a Demmy- crat and I suppose Charlie was always a Whig and then a Republican because he couldn't be any thing else." Sure enough, on the evening of that Kentucky autumn day, in the heat of their childish wrath, their choices were made and set. And, ever after, all political discussion came to them, refracted through the medium of that state of committal. In the summer of 1868 the writer made the acquaintance of two brothers, Edwin and William W., both men of energy and character, who had spent their whole lives in close touch with each other. Born and reared in New York, learning their trade together, in young manhood they went south together, and found employment in the same community, until in the late fifties they came north, and located on the broad and fertile Missouri bottom. In all these years there had been only one circumstance to mar the brotherly feeling between the two. When the Civil War came on, William was pronounced in favor of the Union, while the utterances of Edwin were equally emphatic in favor of southern politics and civilization. A "modus vivendi" was arranged between them, the condition of which was that public affairs were not to be mentioned by either in the presence of the other. It was a mystery how these brothers of equal intelligence, integrity, and supposedly equal acquaintance with the facts, should hold such diverse opinions. William explained: "It's all because of the different times we made up our minds. When we went south we walked across to Pittsburgh and took passage there on a steamboat for New Orleans. Our boat laid up at Paducah some time in the night, EFFECTS OF THE EXERCISE OF WILL 55 and just at daybreak I was wakened by yelling and cursing on the wharf. I looked, and through the mist and fog I saw a gang of slaves, chained together, being driven with a whip on board the boat to be shipped south. I called Edwin, but he was a sound sleeper and it was all over before he awoke, and I could not describe it as I saw it so it would look that way to him. My mind was made up there; Edwin's was not. We went on, and the first job we struck was building a mill on the plantation of one of the best and kindest men I ever knew, and his whole family were like him. You have seen some such people, who could not bear to allow any of their domestic animals even to be hungry, thirsty, or cold. It was just like the Shelby homestead in "Uncle Tom's Cabin," only more so. I tell you it is a fact, if slavery was all like that, it would not be strange that some folks would think it a beneficent institution. Edwin made up his mind here, but I could not forget that under the law the exigencies of life might in three months force these same men and women through the same experiences as those I had seen at Paducah. I judged slavery by its legal possibilities of evil, but Edwin whenever we would strike any of the hard things would remember the Noble plantation in Mississippi. I tell you it was all in the time we made up our minds." Not less truly but more discriminatingly, it may be said that the condition of the mind as it was "made up" through all the succeeding years was determined by the choices made at different times, under different feelings, excited by different and partial views of facts. Another good illustration from the same field is that of Abraham Lincoln, when he turned away from the auction block where a slave girl was being sold. He said: "Boys, if I ever get a chance to hit that thing I'll hit it hard." No words could more plainly show that a choice had been made, and from that time it was impossible for Lincoln to have a good opinion of any system of human bondage. It can not have escaped the thought of the reader that very diverse states of feeling accompanied these different intellectual states. Not the intellect alone but the Sensibility also is 56 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE affected by an act of choice. If the matter concerning which a choice is to be made is one of importance, it is probable that in the deliberation which precedes choosing there are opposite emotions arrayed against each other. During deliberation and hesitation, one feeling acts as a check upon the other. In many cases their opposition and clashing is the cause of the hesitation. Now let a choice be made, and forthwith one set of emotions is as it were let loose to assert their absolute control of the man, while the others, like defeated soldiers, retire from the field. "To whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are," expresses very forcibly the dominance over the man of the passion to which he has yielded himself by an act of will. An example of this dominance of the favored sensibility is found in the lengths to which an excited mob will go. Many a man who an hour before was tender hearted and sympathetic, casting his lot with the mob, becomes capable of deeds of the most revolting cruelty. The reader will remember that this psychological review was begun with the question, "What is it that constitutes man a moral person?" We have examined intellect, sensibility, and will in their relation to the moral life. It is certainly in order to ask now: What is there left in the moral consciousness, when out of it there has been taken all those elements which are of the nature of knowing, feeling or choosing? Absolutely nothing. The so-called "moral sense," is nothing but human sense applied, it is true, to a special subject matter. Man does not need a special sense to make him a moral being. Give to any sensitive being self-determination, plus a power of intellect to discriminate the quality of goods involved in the exercise of the sensibilities, and you have the conditions of moral action and moral responsibility. Man's moral nature is the necessary concomitant of his human nature. If at any time in our future discussion the term moral sense should be used, no criticism need be made upon it, if only it is understood that there is indeed a moral sense, but it is found in the superior intelligence which is able to discriminate in the quality of "goods," and pronounce one of them higher, worthier than another, on account of its consonance with an ideal. CHAPTER XII MORAL GOOD FEW questions in Moral Philosophy are of greater importance than those relating to the nature of moral good. It will be remembered that in our previous discussion we saw that the "good" always is related to the satisfaction of some sensibility. We may then approach the study of the "moral good" by observing that it must be that which will satisfy the moraK feelings. It must be that in my own conduct which satisfies the senses of obligation and self-approval or that which, if done by another, arouses in me the sense of merit. Next it is to be observed that there is no single, specific, external activity which always and everywhere will meet this requirement. Evidently a definition of moral good must have about it some elasticity. We suggest the following, slightly modified from President Porter: "Moral good is the choice of the highest natural good possible to a man, at a given time, as known to himself and by himself, and interpreted with refer- ence to the end of his being and activities." Some observations on this definition may be useful: i. It places the moral quality of a man in the choices which he makes. There can be no doubt as to the correctness of this position. There is no moral quality in the simple act of knowing (though the choice to gain or to refuse knowledge may have that quality). A man deserves neither praise nor blame for simply apprehending what is presented to him. Neither is there any merit or guilt in the simple exercise of the sensibility. The appropriate object being presented and attended to, the corresponding sensibility must be aroused. States of feeling become worthy of praise or blame only when by acts of will they are consented to and the inner man is committed to them. Further, the external actions have no 57 58 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE moral quality apart from the choices they manifest, confirm, or make effective. This is said, too, in full recognition of the fact that all of human and much of Divine law is concerned with external conduct. Its language is always "thou shalt" or "thou shalt not" do. But nothing is better understood than that we expect to judge our fellows and to be ourselves judged, not by what we have chanced to do but by what we chose to do. This is the principle on which men are cleared of blame in the unforeseen and purely accidental. 2. The moral quality of the man is determined, not by the rank of the good chosen as it might be known to an infinite mind, but by its rank as known "to himself and by himself." 3. Our definition guards against that subtle error often made by the devotee of pleasure, that of confounding the rank of a good with the quantity of the sensibility. We saw that ito is the office of the intellect to determine the rank of goods. ' The amount of immediate satisfaction experienced in securing goods is no criterion whatever of their relative rank. Yet that is precisely the standard by which large numbers of men determine their action. It is the standard of the brute. Our definition guards against this error, saying: "interpreted with reference to the end of his being and activities." It may be objected that our definition is open to the charge of indefinite- ness as its supposes the "end of his being" to be known, and philosophy has not yet settled what that end may be. Some, philosophers say that it is " to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever," others hold the view tersely set forth by a recent scientific lecturer that it is "to perpetuate the species, and to care for the same." It might be to our advantage if the end of our being were recognized with the general agreement that exists as to the sum of two and three. A man's conduct, no doubt, will vary with the conception he may have of the "end of his being," and yet there are limits to the conceptions he may have of that end. There are depths of absurdity never reached, unless in the vagaries of the insane. No one has ever yet set forth the thesis that it is the end of man's being to make himself the most mischievous fellow possible, or to be MORAL GOOD 59 the worst man, the most impious man possible, or to make the world the most uncomfortable place possible for his fellows to live in. It is remarkable that even those whose lives might lead us to suppose that they had so conceived the end of life, in the apologies they make for themselves, are in haste to dis- claim such a thought. Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon, and the modern bomb thrower will all protest that their crimes were wrought in the interest of some portion of humanity. And even the grog makers and grog venders would fain pose as temperance advocates, and not at all as promoters of drunkenness. Without considering the sincerity of these claims, it may be said that the fact that they are made shows that, while there are no doubt errors into which men may fall, there are limits to thfe vagaries of their conception of the end of man's being to which they have not gone and we believe cannot go. 4. Our definition does not require as a prerequisite for the realization of moral good that a man should have reached objective correctness in his conception of the end of his being. It does require, however, that he shall rationally form some conception of it, then that he shall have regard to that con- ception as he deliberates on the relative rank of two competing goods. To such a man moral good is possible even though his conception of the end of man may be very incomplete, or may even contain some great error. Two examples were given of conceptions of the end of man's being as widely divergent as men have ever formed. If we are to choose our conception between the two, it is not a matter of indifference which view is taken. The man with one conception has scaled a lofty mountain, heaven's clear blue is over his head, and his outward gaze sweeps beyond the stars; the man with the other has his feet still in the mire. Mists and fog are around his head. He can not see afar off. And yet I do hold that moral good is attain- able by him. He has rationally formed a conception of the end of his existence and activities; imperfect though it be, it is better than none. Let him now continually keep that end in view. Would you know something of the results possible 60 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE to those with such conceptions, read an old story in an old book (Judges 13:2-14). A race of Samsons would be a poor race, but it would be an improvement on some the world has known. Samson's parents conceived the chief end of man to be to per- petuate the species and to care for the same. From our stand- point it seems a very imperfect ideal, but it involved a choice of goods and that according to their quality, and herein lies the essence of moral good. 5. There remains one very practical observation. The choice of the same object may at one time be moral good and at another time not be such. The life which commands our approval is the one in which the higher good is uniformly chosen whenever two goods are presented. Blameworthy conduct consists in the choice of the lower good when two goods are presented. This is true no matter what the plane of the man's natural life. It is not the objective character of the thing chosen which is so important as its rank as compared with the goods with which it came in competition. In any estimate I make of my own life and conduct, the question I have to answer is not whether I have chosen a bad, a wicked, a pernicious thing, but did I choose the best, the highest thing possible to me among the goods presented in competition with each other. This view of the matter will enable us to see how the same exter- nal conduct at different times and with different persons may have a very different moral significance. We sometimes unduly praise or blame our fellows through overlooking the principle here involved. A few examples may be given. One often hears unstinted praise awarded to the people in frontier communities for their piety in going such long distances to church. Not wishing to take aught of merited praise from them, we yet say that when we compare them with the modern city dweller and attempt to measure the piety of the two by the miles they are willing to travel in going to church, we are likely to overlook some important facts. The choice to go to church measures more to the city dweller than it did to the pioneer. Miles to travel are not the only difficulties to be overcome. In pioneer times and small communities, the social life was MORAL GOOD 61 largely identified with the church life. A man, in choosing to go to church, did not have to choose between the church ser- vice and a number of social attractions. The church service in the city jcompetes in the man's mind with a large number of very attractive goods. The city dweller to-day who chooses the church service exercises a self-determination in the choice of goods to which his grandfather was a stranger. We will take another example of the different moral significance of the same act to different persons. Take the case of the Iowa farmer and the half civilized Sioux Indian each plowing corn last summer. The two acts were the same, except, perhaps, that the Iowa farmer did more of it and did it better. But the civilized man thinks of his corn plowing and other work as a matter of course. It is one of the inevitable things to be done. No question occurs to him about it. His corn plowing repre- sents no deliberation, no reflection on the quality of goods, and no choice between goods, and hence no moral uplift. He may already from other causes be a much better man than the Indian, but his corn plowing does not make him so. The case is different with the red man. All the traditions of his ancestry are against the thought of the noble brave degrad- ing himself with toil. His present attitude is the result of a deliberate setting of one civilization against the other. He has adjusted, in his mental balances, the excitement of the chase, against the sweat-won comforts of industry. He has passed on the case the only possible judgment. He has said that one was higher than the other. And now, critical moment he chooses to plow corn. In the development of his character he has received an upward impulse which his white brother will only receive by reflecting that "the life is more than meat, and the body more than raiment. " We are prepared to assert, and history will verify it: that no external activity gives any cer- tain assurance of the moral development of the actor. Abner stands before us a man among men, even when fighting a losing yes an iniquitous war against the Lord's anointed; and the sons of Eli are seen in the depths of moral inkiness, even while ministering at the altar of the sanctuary. 62 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE The life is not moralized by any simple conformity of conduct to the conventional code of morals. Such conduct may exist without the realization of moral good at all. Practices of good manners, of good form, of courtesy, which every one about me regards as necessary to respectability, may not require me, in conforming to them, to put forth any act of rational self- determination, although in their inception my ancestors may have grown in manliness by their adoption. Perhaps there was a time when for one of my barbaric ancestors to wash his face, comb his hair, and don decent apparel represented a deliberate weighing of the quality of goods and a choice, perhaps a pain- ful adoption of the higher. That conduct represented far more in him than it does in us, to whom those things appear a matter of course. Certainly, at any rate the man who in his inner life would approximate the character of those who lived before him must be expected to surpass them in his external conduct. CHAPTER XIII DISPOSITION AND CHARACTER IN a previous chapter, the faculties which constitute man a moral person were considered. They were found to be no other than the ordinary human endowments of intellect, sensi- bility, and will. There must be a degree of intellectual power capable of apprehending the end of his being, and capable o discrimination in the quality of goods. There must be a degree of will capable of rational choice, of free self-determination. Lacking either of these, we could not consider a man a moral person. Though he had the body of a man, normal manhood he has not, nor would you think of imputing to him either merit or guilt in his conduct. And yet it may be interesting to inquire, what, if anything, analogous to the differences we per- ceive in the lives of virtuous and vicious men would be possible without the power of choice. We can conceive the existence of beings with intellect and sensibility alone. Such beings with certain appetences would know certain objects as suited to satisfy their sensibilities. Their desires would be excited by the presence of those objects. The objects being present, the excited sensibility is either pleasant or painful, and the being is impelled to act either to obtain or to shun the given object. Nor is there any power to restrain him, except perchance some stronger sensibility is called into exercise. Such beings, indeed, we believe the brutes to be. Differences in conduct exist among such creatures; yea, differences in psychical life. There are great differences in the amount and kind of satisfaction which such creatures experience, and certainly differences in the satisfaction of other beings which might be compelled to live with them. We have every possible variety in the animal kingdom. The tiger and the calf, the lion and the lamb, the eagle and the dove reveal 63 64 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE characteristics as diverse as exist among virtuous and vicious men. Indeed they furnish us, by figures of speech, our most expressive names for the different types of men. We say of one man that he is a lion; of another that he is foxy; of another that he is a hog; of a sweet tempered girl that she is a dove; while our supreme contempt for some whimpering youngster is expressed by calling him a calf. And yet in all this diversity of brute life there is one thing in common. Each one has exactly that adjustment of its faculties which heredity and environ- ment have produced. He deserves neither praise nor blame for being what he is. We speak, not of his character that word applied to the brute will raise a laugh in any company. We do talk of his disposition, which we define as the actual adjustment of the emotions, passions, and appetites which belong to any sentient and sensitive being. This definition raises no inquiry as to how that adjustment came about. ECence you may speak of the disposition of the beast, of the child, or of the man. The adjustment, which we have called disposition, may be conceived to have remained just as it has taken shape under the influence of heredity and environment alone, as in the case of the beast and the infant, or as in the case of most men, presenting itself to us, modified by few or many acts of volition. For this case we have the word character, which has been defined as "the attitude of the soul toward righteousness, made permanent by activities of will." Some writers use the words disposition and character as synonyms, but make the distinction, above mentioned, by speaking of the voluntary and involuntary character and dis- position. We believe our terminology to be preferable. It makes disposition a generic, and character a specific term. Disposition passes into character as soon as it begins to be modified by intelligent volition. It is a truth of interest alike to the philosopher and the philanthropist that, idiots excepted, few men can be found who have dispositions just as they have involuntarily come to be. The motive powers have been redisposed as the result of the soul's self-determining activity in making choices. DISPOSITION AND CHARACTER 65 It may interest the reader to make a chart, illustrating the mingling of the influences of heredity, environment, and volition in disposition and character. On board or paper draw a rectangular figure an inch broad and extending indefinitely to the right. Let this space represent a human life from birth to death. Now every one is born with certain appetences in a certain adjustment with each other. This is his disposition as heredity has made it. To indicate this original disposition, lay on this rectangular space some colored crayon as green. But Green Heredity Blue Environment Red Volition the infant does not live long until its original disposition is modified by environment. In the treatment he receives at the hands of nurse and parents his education begins, and ever after, varying influences are modifying and changing the original disposition. Represent these changes by laying on over the original green some crayon of another color, as blue. Com- mence near the lower left-hand corner and lay on the blue over more and more of the space and heavier as you proceed. This too is simply disposition. You have so far represented the child just as he is made by influences over which he has no control. But we know that in the normal development of human life, at some time varying with different persons, but certainly before maturity is reached, there are further modifi- cations of this disposition by acts of choice. Represent this new element by another color, as red, and extend it to the right over more and more of the space. The disposition has now passed into character. Every man is the product of these three factors, and it is a grievous error to leave any one of them out of account in your analysis of any man's nature. By varying the color of your crayon, the amount of space over which you lay it, as well as the depth of shading, you may represent almost any conceivable adjustment of these forces. CHAPTER XIV THE ORIGIN OF MORAL RELATIONS SOME writers give this topic an undue amount of consideration. Others almost ignore the subject, as irrelevant to practical Ethics. Our inquiry is not for the origin of our knowledge of these relations but for the origin of the relations themselves. Is it wrong to steal? We do not here inquire how I came by my belief in the wrongness of theft.. I ask a deeper question: What makes the wrongness of stealing? Of course in practical ethics the most important consideration is the truth of the propo- sition that theft is wrong. But is the other unimportant? Of two kinds of food, we will say that one is nutritious and healthy, the other, though pleasing to the palate, is without nutriment and induces disease. You might say that the all-important thing for me to know is the fact that this is healthy and that the other is not, but will you rebuke the physiologist who seeks to find what it is in one that makes it promote the health of the body and what in the other that makes it injurious? So it can not be altogether devoid of interest how moral relations came to be as they are. This will be the more apparent as we examine those theories which the author believes to be errone- ous as to the origin of moral relations. President Porter, as prefatory to the discussion, asks the question: "Are moral relations real?" The argument is and can be little else than a repetition of our discussion of the reality of duty. As a curiosity we might note the fact that those who deny the reality of moral relations are very few, and those who do so for any but argumentative purposes do not sustain a reputation which adds any weight to their theories. Read this extract from the father of Russian Nihilism: "When you have got rid of your belief in this priest begotten GOD, and when, moreover, you are convinced that your existence and that of 66 THE ORIGIN OF MORAL RELATIONS 67 the surrounding world is due to the conglomeration of atoms, in accordance with the laws of gravity and attraction, then and then only will you have accomplished the first step toward liberty, and you will find less difficulty in ridding your minds of that second lie which tyranny has invented. The first lie is God: the second lie is "right." Might invented the fiction of right in order to insure and strengthen her reign that right which she herself does not heed, and which only serves as a barrier against any attacks which might be made by the stupid and trembling masses of mankind. Once penetratectv with a clear conviction of your own might, you will be able to destroy this mere notion of right. And when you have freed your minds of the fear of a God and from that childish respect for the fiction of right, then all the remaining chains that bind you, and which are called science, civilization, property, marriage, morality, and justice, will snap asunder like threads. Let your own happiness be your only law. But in order to get this law recognized and to bring about the proper relations which should exist between the majority and minority of man- kind, you must destroy every thing which exists in the shape of state or social organization. You must accustom yourself to destroy everything, the good with the bad, for if but an atom of this old world remains, the new will never be created." This somewhat extended quotation has been made for two purposes. It has quite a bearing on the question of the objective reality of moral relations. That which no man can deny, without con- fessing that he believes, is settled as well as anything can be. In this case, as one critic has remarked, "The very right whose existence is denied is invoked, as the basis of action." Notice that things "good" are to be destroyed with the "bad. " There are "proper relations" which "should exist." But the reader may find here, either expressed or implied, most of the false theories as to the origin of moral relations. The man who locates the origin of moral relations in any thing of less dignity than the constitution of man himself is in many cases prepared to regard those relations lightly, and may, as in this case, speculatively call in question their reality. 68 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE Let us briefly observe some of the erroneous theories as to the basis of moral relations : 1. Moral distinctions are not simple and arbitrary creations of the soul for its own convenience. We are sometimes met with the ill-considered statement that "if a man thinks any- thing to be right it is right." Admitting that there may be things of such indifference to human well being that the question of personal sincerity is about all there is in them, yet this is not true of the great mass of activities to which the terms right and wrong are applied. Men are compelled to believe that those words stand for external realities as truly as do the words by which I designate the objects of vision, and just as I may err as to what I see, yet not as to the fact that I see a somewhat, so I may err as to the particular thing I call right or wrong. Because I may err in my discrimination, it does not follow that the distinction is fictitious. 2. Moral relations are not the creation of the civil ruler. That, in cases where either of several courses of conduct are allowable, the act of the law maker may lay upon me an obli- gation of duty, we freely concede, as also that there are obliga- tions that a man may owe to society as a citizen, and which it is the province of the law maker to define; but the civil law is not the general power, making things right or wrong. It aims to be declarative of right but not creative. Few advocates of the legal origin of moral relations will fail in a half-hour's discussion to pronounce some law good or bad. Besides, we can not affirm in any case that the law has made something right without assuming an obligation to obey the law; and if" there be no law but statute, where did the statute get its authority? In short, we are compelled to assume in human nature in society, a somewhat outside of the law, which makes the law obligatory upon me. If moral distinctions have no authority other than the will of the civil ruler, it might not be difficult to make an apology for the Nihilistic utterance we have quoted. 3. It has been urged that moral relations originate in the public opinion of communities. That what public sentiment approves as right is right, what it condemns is wrong. Much THE ORIGIN OF MORAL RELATIONS 69 the same answer will apply to this as to the civil ruler theory. Customs and public opinion are themselves the objects of our moral approval or disapproval. Those most active in enforcing public opinion do not presume to create Tightness. It is not the voice of a creator of right which I hear, but the tumult of a multitude proclaiming with one accord what they all believe the right to be. 4. Many moralists have asserted that moral relations have their origin in the arbitrary fiat of the Creator; that aside from His decree there would be no right or wrong. This is the theory of many who adhere with devotion to the "authority of the book." What revelation approves is right, what it forbids is wrong, and they are such respectively because they are so approved or forbidden. The author approaches this subject reverently. He would not "rob God." But reverence and devotion can have no interest here except in ascertaining the truth. No one has appeared, charged by the Most High, with the task of exalting His name and works in aught except that which reason approves as the truth. It is, therefore, with reverence and awe as we may suppose one of old to have stood before the burning bush, and only because he believes it the truth to which careful thought will lead you that the author announces for your con- sideration this thesis: Moral relations do not have their origin in the arbitrary fiat of the Creator. To suppose that they do would plunge us into difficulty, of which those who pose as special defenders of the majesty of Deity perhaps have not dreamed. It is certainly as devout to defend the holiness of Jehovah as to assert His power. To devout men it is a precious truth that "the Lord our God is holy and righteous altogether." Such a statement is at once robbed of all significance if we concede that the arbitrary fiat of Deity is the source of right- ness. In adopting such a theory, too, we deprive ourselves of one of the best tests to apply to any purported revelation. Moral relations are not the subject of creation. In this they resemble the mathematical relations. The sum of two and three is neither four nor six. It is five and nothing else; here, 70 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE on the moon, on the planet Jupiter, and beyond the milky way five it is, and must be, and that, not because Deity willed it, but in the very nature of the case. The square on the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the squares on the other two sides, by an eternal necessity, and not because that Deity made it so. The writer once heard of a colored student in elementary Algebra struggling to compre- hend why "minus by minus gives plus," who asked: " What do they make it that way for, anyhow?" He was not at all embarrassed by the counter query: "Where and by whom do you suppose these things were made that way?" but answered without hesitation, "Why, I always supposed they were made in Chicago." The errors of our theological moralist and of Africa's sable son originate in the same mental shortcoming an utter failure to grasp the existence of necessary truth. We commend to the man so jealous for the power of Jehovah the words of a great moralist, who, whatever his other short- comings, has never been accused of irreverence: "The Lord possessed me in the beginning of his way, before his works of old, I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was. When there were no depths, I was brought forth; when there were no fountains abounding with water. Before the mountains were settled, before the hills was I brought forth: while as yet he had not made the earth, nor the fields, nor the highest part of the dust of the world. When he prepared the heavens / was there: when he set a compass upon the face of the depth; when he established the clouds above: when he strengthened the fountains of the deep: when he gave to the sea his decree, that the waters should not pass his commandment: then I was with him, as one brought up with him: and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him." No, it is not irreverent to say, with bared brow and uncovered feet, that if in creation's morn God had sent one of the sons of light flying through space on the hypotenuse of a right triangle, whose sides were "a" and "b," the distance traveled would have been V"a 2 "+"b 2 " and Omnipotence absolutely could not shorten that distance by one hair's breadth. THE ORIGIN OF MORAL RELATIONS 71 Now to suppose moral relations capable of being created at the fiat of a will is to suppose that it were possible for them to have been otherwise, and it is absolutely inconceivable that in their essential nature they could be otherwise than they are. Let any one who advocates the divine origin of moral rela- tions try to imagine those relations reversed. Here are two men in such situation toward each other that we say a certain act is due from one to the other; could any fiat of a will, circum- stances remaining the same, make that duty not to be? Take the case of the wounded Jew by the roadside; we commend the conduct of the good Samaritan, and condemn that of the priest and Levite. The human mind absolutely cannot believe it possible that any voice from the skies could render the obliga- tions in that case different from what we now understand them to be. We cannot believe that any decree of Omnipotence could make the indifference of the two to be praiseworthy or the neighborly conduct of the Samaritan to be culpable. One course of conduct expresses "good will" and the other evil will, and we absolutely challenge any living man, however pious, to say that he believes that God could make the evil will meritorious and the good will reprehensible. It is common for theologians to evade this by saying that we have supposed an inconceivable thing, because God is good and he will not decree an unrighteous thing. Very true, but it concedes the point for which we are contending. There is a Tightness, in the very nature of things, to which Jehovah conforms all the activities of His will, and, in saying that he cannot make the evil will right, we are not guilty of any more irreverence than that other writer who said that "it is impossible for God to lie." The confusion on this point is an example of the failure to distinguish between the "reason for being" and the "reason for knowing." If it is once assumed as a settled fact that God is good and holy, then the will of Deity, when known, may well be with men an end of controversy. It is a proof of Tightness, but not the cause of Tightness. I may better believe that God commands a thing because it is right, not that it is right because he commands it. The error is close kin to that of 72 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE some religionists, who insist that a thing is true because it is in the Bible, the better view being, that it is written in the Bible because it is true. We have now answered negatively the inquiry as to the ground of moral relations. We have found that the Tightness of conduct is not made such by public opinion, by the civil law, or by the arbitrary fiat of Deity. The positive answer is implied in what we have already observed, and we affirm, without fear of successful contradiction, that the real ground of moral relations is in the nature and constitution of man. If you were to ask the physiologist on what ground he affirms one kind of food to be healthier than another, he would not think of looking outside the human body for his answer. Ask the moral philosopher what it is that makes a given course of conduct right, and he errs if he goes anywhere outside the nature and constitution of man. Place men, constituted as they are, in certain relations to each other, and truth, honesty, and sympathy are due from one to the other, not because public opinion, civil law, or divine fiat require them, but because the constitution of human nature makes them the fitting things. Their manifestation accords with the most com- plete development of manhood. Every classical student remembers the "dei" in the Greek, the "opportet" in Latin. Impersonal verbs what trouble they gave us in our student days! But the framers of those old languages builded wisely when they framed a word which enables us to say of some course of conduct that "it befits a man." Put the emphasis on man. Attention was called to the importance of not con- founding the cause of knowing with the cause of being. It is in order to turn our attention for a few moments to the "cause of knowing." How does a man know moral relations? Having seen that they originate in the nature and constitution of man, we will not look elsewhere for them. But all within the human constitution there are two directions in which we may make our observations. We may examine the lives of men in society, and observe how individuals are affected by each other's activities. ^This is the method of consequences. We THE ORIGIN OF MORAL RELATIONS 73 call those activities objectively right which promote human well being. Moralists must make these observations, and yet they may make many mistakes and many errors in their inferences. It is difficult to hold the well being of all men of equal worth in such a calculation. We are inclined to consider the well being of some classes (our own most certainly) to the exclusion of others. Selfishness hides itself under the mask of benevolence. It is difficult, too, to see the remote consequences of some measures, and it is the sum of consequences with which the utilitarian moralist must deal. But there is a direction we may give to our observations where our conclusions are much more certain. As soon as a man looks within himself he must judge some kinds of feeling, choosing and doing, to be higher than others to be more in accord with his peculiar human endowment. If you question, how does he know it to be higher and more worthy of manhood, we answer that you must expect to reach a place where the judg- ment is intuitive. There are facts in all knowledge which are intuitively discerned. You never think of affirming that this color is brighter than that, or that one sound is stronger, higher, or lower than another on any other authority than that of the soul's power to discern color and sound. There are such intuitive judgments in our moral consciousness. A man cannot look within himself and compare with each other the various emotions and sentiments which he finds there without making some moral judgment. He cannot compare love with hate, self- service with self-sacrifice, unbridled appetite with restraint, without affirming, and that in no doubtful tones, which is the higher without saying which befits the man. And you need look for no ground for his judgment other than this, that the soul finds itself making these discriminations. Search among your acquaintances for an individual of mature years who can not do this, in such darkness that the eyes of his understanding do not discern the differences between the several sensibilities, one whose intellect, on reflection, does not affirm one to be higher, i.e., more fitting his manhood than another; when you find him, if you ever do, we will count him a freak a 74 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE monstrosity. You may well hesitate to call him a moral person at all. He is a "reprobate." Would that our theo- logians had grasped the significance of that term. It means "void of judgment." You will perceive, if our observations are correct, that the human soul in its moral life makes its judgments under the category of design. If obliged to say why it affirms one thing right rather than another, it is the adaptation of that thing to promote the end human excellence. The soul judges that end by the capacities it finds within itself, especially by its higher capacities. Whatever capacity there is which is pecu- liarly human we infer is designed for cultivation, rather than that capacity which man may have in common with the beast. CHAPTER XV THE EXTERNAL ACTIONS WE have seen that moral quality is pre-eminently affirmed of a man's choices. We might close our discussion here if man were an isolated, pure spirit. The end of his being would seem to have been met when he would choose for himself the highest good which his nature fitted him to enjoy. But man is not such a being. Spirit though he is, he is held down to a material organism which solicits his care, and in relation to which he must live during his earthly existence. Moreover, he is sur- rounded by beings constituted like himself, and is fitted by his very constitution to live in their society, to grow and develop in conjunction with them. No great amount of development has ever been attained apart from one's fellows. Though there is a place in human development and work for quiet and temporary seclusion, the history of the world will show us the mistake of those who, in India or in Europe, the followers of Gautama or the dis- ciples of Jesus, have supposed that the virtuous life was one of solitude. Every impulse of the soul is an impulse to act with reference to something or somebody, and there is little of human action that does not affect the well being of a fellow creature. Were one to undertake to live a life of inaction, there are those who would have a right to complain of his inertness. It would not be sufficient that the inner impulses of the soul should be holy. Indeed those impulses are very defective unless they are accompanied by a desire for expression in appropriate action. Following to some extent the outline of President Porter, we note in regard to the external actions that: i. They are necessary to execute the choices to make them effective. "Why call ye me Lord, Lord, and do not the things that I say" expresses the universal lack of faith in a 75 76 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE choice that does not issue in appropriate action. It is said that in some provinces in Russia the hungry traveler who solicits a morsel of bread is met with the response, "May heaven feed you." No number of such blessings would satisfy a single pang of hunger. 2. It is by external acts that men confirm themselves in the choices which they have made. This psychical fact fur- nishes a reason for the ritual of all fraternal orders, and for the initiatory rites of all religions. It explains the insistence of evangelists and temperance reformers that their auditors shall do something. Many a man has been saved to a better life, whose awakened emotions would have carried him only a few hours, had not some trifling act, as "kneeling at the mourner's bench" or "standing up to be counted," confirmed a feeble resolution and strengthened a feeble will. It is true that "as a man thinketh in his heart so is he." It is proper to warn men against harboring secret sin. It is right to turn the eyes of men in upon themselves that they may see what manner of men they are; but no moral teacher, who remembers the effect of the external act upon the man himself, will ever be found telling men that it is just as bad to think, feel, or wish an evil thing as to do it. Such doctrine is philo- sophical error and might well be considered religious heresy, more mischievous than some things which pass under that name. 3. The external actions manifest the purposes. Let any great purpose be formed and a man is at once impelled to make it known. So strong is this impulse that nothing save politic reasons can suppress it. True "he that doeth evil" (or even that which is considered evil) may hate the light, but "he that doeth truth cometh to the light that his deeds may be made manifest." Now there is no way to manifest a purpose except in some external activity. Hence the importance of making the bodily activities, such as may manifest appropriately the purposes which have been formed. Indeed it is only as an act is interpreted as manifesting a purpose that it can be said to have moral quality at all; that is that it can be considered as indicating the character of the actor. The very same external THE EXTERNAL ACTIONS 77 act, even when voluntary, has very different moral qualities, as in diverse circumstances it manifests diverse purposes. In unearthing the ruins of an ancient city, the rubbish was cleared from a ruined temple. An altar was found, and by it a pot half filled with incense, as it had been left centuries before. A company of Christian visitors thought to reproduce as nearly as possible the forms of the old pagan worship. They kindled a fire, and one of them threw a cup of the incense on the embers and all stood by and saw it consumed. Contrast this with a scene that for aught we know may have been acted before that same altar, centuries before : A man is accused of being a Chris- tian heinous offense and refuses to answer. He is brought before the altar and a cup of incense thrust into his hand, he is bidden to throw it on the coals. He refuses and he will die rather than yield, and centuries of Christian civilization ap- plaud his "obstinacy." The external act is the same in the two cases, the difference lay in the purposes of which the act was the manifestation. 4. It is by the external acts that good choices are matured into habits. From the dignity which we have claimed for the will, some may conceive the thought that a state of choice making is ultimate in human life. Not so. To be compelled to deliberate, to balance in the mind the quality of goods, and then to make choices, perhaps against the pressure of energetic sensibilities, is not a state in which a man can rest. Acts of choosing are means, not ends. By making choices and executing them, man at last renders choice unnecessary. That activity, which at one time required a choice for its inception and execu- tion, comes to be done almost automatically. Choices have been matured into habits. It is no doubt desirable, if possible, to have some rules for the external actions. To form codes for the regulation of human conduct is a necessary part of the work of the moral teacher and of the law maker but it must be said that, if such specific codes are made to displace or conceal the great underlying principles of moral philosophy, good will and good morals give way to the forms of a senseless etiquette and a hypocritical 78 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE ritualism. The scribes and Pharisees would not go into the judgment hall of Pilate, lest they should be defiled, but they could clamor for the blood of an innocent man. Some eastern brigands have no scruples about cutting a man's throat, but would omit no detail of politeness in saluting him. There are few if any external acts of which it can be said that they are universally required. The following has been sug- gested as a general rule for our guidance in regard to the external activities: "Whatever action is necessary to manifest or to confirm a right purpose must be performed; and one must care- fully refrain from an act which, either in its inherent nature or in its setting, is fitted to be the manifestation of an evil pur- pose. " It is true that this rule gives great latitude to individual judgment, but I doubt the possibility of formulating one any more definite. General as it seems, it would if adopted put backbone into many a timid citizen. The Australian ballot is a good arrangement in many respects, but it is a confession of the weakness or cowardice of a large number of voters. It proposes that men may hold purposes, and make choices, and not manifest them except in the mass. You know some evil intrenched in society. You may not be able to uproot it, but you must manifest your attitude toward it, and that attitude must be one of antagonism, al- though our rule will allow you great latitude as to the most appropriate action in which to manifest that hostility. Drunk- enness and debauchery are evils so intrenched that no one can hold me responsible for their continuance to-morrow. Our rule will allow me great discretion in the selection of the means by which I will manifest a right purpose regarding them. Very clearly, however, that right purpose will not be manifested in renting property for places of evil resort, nor in signing a petition of consent for a saloon. CHAPTER XVI THE MORAL FEELINGS THE moral consciousness includes the exercise of several peculiar sensibilities. In previous discussions, we had occasion to observe them in part. A more careful treatment is in place here. The moral feelings are five in number: obligation, self- approval, self-reproach, merit and demerit. The first three are related to one's own conduct, the last two to the conduct of others. They have one characteristic in common. They all follow the direction of the moral judgment. As to courses of conduct which are accounted indifferent, that is without moral quality, it is impossible that these emotions should arise. We have said "accounted indifferent" for the objective right- ness, the absolute fitness of an act has nothing whatever to do in determining my feeling regarding it. Whatever my judgment approves, however erroneously, as the fitting thing to be done in any particular case, that thing I feel bound, obligated to do, and will approve or reproach myself or praise or blame another for doing or not doing. The feeling of obligation is unique; its phenomena can only be discussed by appealing to the con- sciousness of your auditor. He may not have felt it on the same occasions that your have, but he has had it about some, probably about many, things. The best attempt to describe it was made by him who gave it its name, " obligation, " literally a binding to. The man with this feeling is bound, tied to some- thing, and can not get away. If he divert his attention for a time he is sure to be pulled up again, like the beast at the end of his tether, and feel the force of that everlasting "you must." Very expressively Kant spoke of the "categorical imperative. "- Do not construe these words to impIy'^pEysical compulsion. The man with several courses of conduct open to him, with several goods present, either to sense or to the imagination t 79 80 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE each one exerting the pull of its own particular allurement, this man is a free, self -determining person, knowing full well that he does not "have to," yet he feels toward one course of conduct the added pull of an eternal "ought." Many of the things herein said of the sense of obligation are equally true of the feelings of self approval and self reproach. In time these feelings follow the choice or act, while the sense of obligation preceded it. Like it they follow the course of the moral judgment without any regard to the objective correctness of that judgment. If that judgment was an error, it may occur that a man congratulates himself on conduct most mis- chievous to society or hurtful to himself; or he may reproach himself for an act which as a matter of fact was the fitting one to be performed. These feelings can not be resolved into the love of applause or the dread of censure. It is not because the multitude applauds that the man approves, nor because it hisses that he reproaches himself. All that these can do is for a time to divert his attention from his own opinion of himself. The daring leader of a band of wicked men, knowing full well that his conduct is wicked, yet applauded by his companions, does not really approve himself. The praise of his associates displaces in his mind and defers for a time the feeling of reproach he would otherwise experience. In the pleasure of their approval he forgets the violence he has done to his own better nature, but the reproach is sure to come when he comes to himself. Perhaps the best that can be done in accounting for these feelings is something like this: I am naturally pleased with whatever is the occasion of good to me, and displeased with that which I know to be the occasion of evil to me. Now in whatever degree I know myself the author of that good or evil, in that degree I am pleased or displeased with myself. This explains the peculiar tenacity with which the feeling of self reproach clings to us. The feeling is different from the grief over inevitable calamity or over evil brought on us by the con- duct of others. "Through my fault, my most grievous fault" is the cry of the remorse stricken soul. THE MORAL FEELINGS Si The senses of merit and demerit differ from those we have been considering in that they are excited in us by the conduct of others. We see a man perform a deed of heroic self sacrifice or of self -forgetful generosity and we are pleased with it. We feel moved to express our approval, and to reward the doer, and if this feeling is not inhibited by one of self interest, we are likely to look about us for some way in which to reward him. We see or hear of a deed of cruelty, of moral turpitude, we are not only shocked by it, we feel that the doer deserves to suffer and very likely that it would gratify us to make him smart for it. There is some difficulty in the study of these feelings because they mingle so readily with other emotions. How my sense of the offender's turpitude is intensified, if his pernicious action has been directed against me big me. From this mingling of the selfish with the moral feelings, have followed several interesting consequences: (i) Men are much more inclined to punish their enemies than to reward their friends. To reward a man in moderation, for a good deed does not hurt him, while my own self interest will act as a check upon a too substantial manifestation of my approbation; but in the pun- ishment of an evil doer, my selfishness re-enforces the moral sentiment of demerit, and my action is likely to be excessive. (2) Following from the above, it has been found necessary that society should take the punishment of evil doers out of private hands, while leaving men free to reward their friends to their complete satisfaction. Let us carefully distinguish between the moral feeling of demerit and the desire for venge- ance or the beastly craving for cruelty which ordinarily lies dormant in human nature, but on occasion, as in the case of mobs, leaps forth like a hundred furies from the pit. With this word of caution, it may be said that the sense of demerit in the presence of wrong doing is right, and the human soul in whom it is wanting or weak is sadly defective. It is to the credit of human nature that though the sense of demerit mingles easily and often mischievously with the egoistic emotions, it is not dependent on self-love. It is aroused by the knowledge of deeds of violence and shame in the remote 82 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE corners of the earth. The excitement in this country over the Turkish atrocities in Armenia, and our indignation on the occasion of the Dreyfus trial are examples. Here again the feeling follows the moral judgment. It has often occurred that men have blamed their fellows for the noblest deeds and have praised them for deeds of the greatest turpitude, but always on an erroneous moral judgment. I doubt the ability of even a fiend to approve vice, considered as such, or to regard virtue, as such, blameworthy. This is illustrated in the absurd stories always circulated about the victims of persecution. Socrates was charged with impiety and with corrupting the youth. "We found this fellow perverting the nation and for- bidding to give tribute to Caesar," was a false judgment, not so much invented to further the case before Pilate, as willingly believed in order that they might justify themselves in crying "Crucify him!" In Russia, Semitic hate finds it necessary to excuse itself for its blood-curdling outrages by lending a ready ear to the absurd stories that the Jews hold cannibal feasts at which infants stolen from Christian homes are choice delica- cies. The moral feeling of demerit is impossible against a good act considered as such, and it is impossible for it to stand alone. It must lean upon a moral judgment, even if it be one made to order. The importance of the moral feelings in the economy of human life will be more and more apparent as we proceed. It is not enough for a man's development in character that he have an acute intellect, to discern the quality of goods, or that he have the power of well sustained choice. There is a certain equipment of the sensibilities which is indispensable to moral manhood. We sometimes hear of men of "strong convictions. " The phrase is not happily chosen, but by it is meant, men of intense moral feelings. CHAPTER XVII THE CONSCIENCE THERE is no concept in the whole range of philosophy which is held more vaguely than the one indicated by the term Con- science. Not long since a lecturer of national repute declared that, in addition to intellect, sensibility, and will, man is endowed with conscience. Evidently he was of that school who believe in a special moral sense. Much of the talk concerning con- science has been couched in figurative language. We hear of it as the "inner light"; as the "voice of God in the soul"; and yet every power to discern truth can with equal propriety be spoken of under these metaphors. Moralists have often felt compelled to defend conscience against the charge of tyrannies practiced and crimes committed in its name. They have sought definitions which would so limit its functions that they might claim for it infallibility. They have held that "like the needle it will always point to the pole" (sure enough, unless diverted by a bed of ore, an electric current, or a sunspot). Perhaps all the erroneous theories may be best answered by setting forth at once what we believe will be found to be the truth. We have no occasion to invent a special moral sense. We have seen that all man's moral activities and experiences may be referred to the operation of the ordinary human faculties employed, it is true, on a special subject matter. We have seen that when from our moral experiences there have been elimi- nated the parts severally belonging to intellect, sensibility, and will there is nothing left to assign to a special faculty. Unless we are prepared to discard the term conscience entirely, we must use it as a collective term for several of the activities of man's moral life. This will appear to be the proper course. True we could discuss every action of the human soul in its 83 84 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE moral experiences and not use the word at all. In fact we have well nigh done so. But the term conscience is too well wrought into the language both of the philosopher and of the man of affairs to be discarded. We have no wish to discard it. We would rescue it from the obscurity which hangs around it. It is desirable to have a collective term for the intellectual and sensitive experiences of the moral life, and there is no better term than conscience. We suggest this definition: con- science is the human soul discerning and enforcing moral relations. Thus defined conscience will be seen to comprise activities of the reflective intellect, and of the sensibilities which we have called the moral feelings. In our discussion of the topic of the last chapter, it can hardly have escaped notice that many of the experiences to which we gave attention were those which in the language of every day life are ascribed to the conscience. No objection can be urged against the employment of a single term to designate a complex experience. What we call sense per- ception is a complex act, involving an act of sensibility in sensation and of intellect in perception proper. The great diversities observed in the activities called conscience in differ- ent men may be traced to differences in one or the other of its component elements. We are aware that there are those who would object to our definition. There are works on moral philosophy which limit the term conscience to the sense of obligation to do that which the moral judgment has approved, with the following feelings of reproach or approval. We can discern no reason why the moral feelings rather than the moral judgment should have the name, and, as common usage has employed the term for both activities, we shall so use it and shall treat the conscience in both its intellectual and sensitive aspects. Excellence of conscience may be affirmed of conscience in either of its elements, and is emphatically affirmed if we find existing together a high degree of power to discern and of the power to enforce. In like manner conscience may be defective, either in a lack of intellectual discrimination or in a feebleness in the exercise of the moral feelings. THE CONSCIENCE 85 The man with the good conscience is he whose intellect clearly perceives the fitness of things between himself and other beings, and whose moral feelings are easily aroused and keenly alive. He accurately discerns what right is and feels himself mightily impelled to do it, and, if through great tempta- tion he has failed to make the correct choice, his grief and humiliation are agonizing. In common parlance the good con- science is often confused with the clear conscience. Evidently a distinction should be made. The clear conscience is affirmed of the man who simply has no feeling of self-reproach. This condition may result from either of several causes. The man may have studiously set his face toward the performance of every duty and directed his energies to the discovery of what duty might be. In this case the clear conscience is much to be desired. But evidently this absence of self-reproach might result from a dull moral perception, or from a hardened sensi- bility. In this case to have a clear conscience is a great mis- fortune. We call to mind an old man awakened in a religious revival who persisted in visiting the saloon and drinking beer. He was astonished and indignant when he found his conduct a matter of criticism. Of course he drank beer. He was sure it could not be wrong, because "back in Virginia forty years ago even the preachers would keep a bottle of brandy on the mantel." Besides he knew he was right because he "did it with a clear conscience." Sure enough he did. But what a poor, blind conscience it was. Many a man has a clear conscience who, should the eyes of his understanding ever be opened, will be ashamed that he had not had a guilty conscience. The guilty conscience belongs to the man who suffers the feeling of self reproach. The experience of it comes only to him who has chosen the lower of two goods as known to himself. It is unknown to the man, who, to use the common phrase "has done the best he knows how." No matter how faulty his conduct, objectively considered, may be, he cannot have any sense of guilt ; this is the conscience whose working dramatists and novelists delight to portray, e.g., "The wicked flee when no man pursue th." "Conscience doth make cowards of us all." 86 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE "It's mostly when I'm naughty that I see things in the night." The guilty soul knows its own ill desert, therefore it fears. Those who have much to do with the arrest and punishment of evil doers know that you may as surely count on the operation of this sentiment as on the instinct or appetite of an animal you are hunting. The guilty conscience is not to be classed among the types of evil conscience. Of course the things that occasion it may, and probably do, indicate some perversity of the moral nature ; but the fact that the doing of the evil deeds is followed by the painful consciousness of guilt is an indication of moral healthiness. Hunger is painful, but it is the healthy man who becomes hungry when the accustomed supply of food is witheld. In many cases of dangerous illness the aroused appetite is the first indication of returning health. It is just so in the moral life. To be morally unsound is indeed a serious matter, more serious still to have no consciousness of that unsoundness, most serious of all to feel no pain over that condition when known. We may classify the several types of defective conscience as follows : f Dark Conscience ( In Intellect j [ Perverted Conscience Defective Conscience <| f Weak Conscience [ In Sensibility j [ Seared Conscience The dark conscience is the term applied to the man who is deficient naturally in his power to discern moral relations. It is said of him that he lacks moral perception. It is an intel- lectual defect and may exist in varied degrees of intensity. Such a man may have the moral feelings well developed. He may, within the limited circle within which he does distinguish things as right or wrong, be very exacting both of himself and of others, but beyond a certain narrow limit he fails to distin- guish right from wrong at all. The glaring inconsistencies of some religious zealots (as well as of some people who are not. religious) have their origin in this defect. Those characterized by this defect have included the "fools and blind" of the days THE CONSCIENCE 87 of Jesus as well as those of a more ancient time, described in this selection : "Cry aloud, spare not, lift up thy voice like a trumpet, and show my people their transgression, and the house of Jacob their sins. "Yet they seek me daily, and delight to know my ways, as a nation that did righteousness, and forsook not the ordinance of their God: They ask of me the ordinances of justice; they take delight in approaching to God. Wherefore have we fasted, say they, and thou seest not? wherefore have we afflicted our soul, and thou takest no knowledge? Behold in the day of your fast ye find pleasure and exact all your labors. "Behold ye fast for strife and debate and to smite with the fist of wickedness: Ye shall not fast as ye do this day to make your voice to be heard on high. Is it such a fast that I have chosen? a day for a man to afflict his soul? Is it to bow down his head as a bulrush, and to spread sackcloth and ashes under him? wilt thou call this a fast, and an acceptable day unto the Lord?" Isaiah 58:1-5. This lack of moral discrimination was the defect of those who "tithed mint and anise and cummin, and neglected the weightier matters of the law"; of those who "compassed sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he was made, made him twofold more the child of Hell than themselves." It is found also in some later missionaries who wrought pious frauds for the glory of God (?), and to save the souls of the heathen. Some- thing of it too may be suspected in those of us today who find their cruelty and coarseness worthy of admiration. It was the defect of our "Pilgrim fathers" concerning whom some one has made the pun that when they landed on the New England shores " they first fell on their knees, and then on the aborigines " those pilgrims who tramped in the snow all day rather than make a fire on the Sabbath, but founded a civil and ecclesiastical order which allowed the burning of witches. The dark con- science may be defective with reference to a particular class of relations or it may be dull of moral perception in general. It may exist in connection with feeble sensibilities, or the moral 88 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE feelings may be very alert as to the few things which are dis- cerned. It may appear as a lack of capacity to discern any moral relation in something at all, or it may show a facility for "seeing things crooked." Perhaps in our discussion of the Dark Conscience a rather unwelcome truth has been forcing itself upon our attention. We are led to suspect that enlightenment and darkness are relative terms that the perfectly enlightened conscience is hypothetical and does not exist among men per consequence each one will be compelled to admit that in all probability some measure of darkness pertains to his conscience. It is well, however, to remember that in this respect there is no infirmity of the moral nature which does not equally belong to every capacity for intellectual activity. There are great differences in our capacities to see and to hear, and where will we find the absolutely perfect and adequate eyes and ears? Is it not probable that very much passes unobserved by, and unknown to us, which would be discerned were our vision keener and our hearing more acute? Unpalatable as is the thought that probably my conscience is somewhat dark, the reflection may be to my advantage. It may promote a charitable consideration of those who assume to have a clearer moral vision than I have, and also of those whom I regard as inferior to me in moral perception. In the first case it has usually been found hard to forgive the man who says to me, " Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye." It may give us patience if we remember that probably there is a mote there. If on the other hand we assume, as sometimes we must, to correct the moral vision of our neighbor, it may give us discretion and modesty to remember that possibly there is a beam in one of our eyes. Another type of moral defect is that, to which has been given the name the Weak Conscience. This condition is that of the man whose moral feelings are exerted with feeble energy. No fact in the whole range of ethical observation is clearer than this: that the moral feelings are experienced with differing degrees of force. This phenomenon may result either from THE CONSCIENCE 89 inherent differences in the power to feel at all, or from differences in the inhibitory effect of other emotions. Whatever the cause, most thinkers will admit the fact. We are not unmindful of what has already been said of the difficulty of measuring psychical energy. Once more let it be remembered that to assume to measure the strength of a feeling by its sequence in external activity, is to ignore the exercise of will altogether. To assume that A's conscience is weaker than B's because he yields to a temptation which B resists is to beg the question of responsibility completely. But though we lack any means of measuring the intensity of the moral feelings of our neighbor, each one of us is able to observe that his own moral feelings are exerted with different degrees of energy at different times. From this indisputable fact of personal experience it is not an unreasonable inference that the maximum capacity of different men for the experience of the sense of obligation, of self approval or self reproach, is not a constant although we have no units in which to express its variations. But the absence of any really correct and definite measure of psychical action does not present any such practical difficulty as some have supposed. Long before men heard of volts, of ohms, of watts, of amperes, they did recognize differences in sensation as marking differences in energy of the electric current. In our experiences of physical pain no one questions one experience being more intense than another. You are passing through a siege of "jumping toothache"; I ask, "How is your tooth this morning?" and you reply, "It still aches but not as badly as it did last night." How foolish I would be to question the correctness of your statement, because you have no units in which to express the variations of pain. Certainly the man would be accounted mad who would insist that for that reason the dentist should abandon his profession. While you cannot meet the demand of the man who insists on a quantitative measure of the sensibilities there are tests possible, of their variation in intensity at different times, with the same person. We may "compare spiritual things with spiritual." I ask you how you know that your tooth did ache 90 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE worse last night than this morning. You would no doubt think me foolish to ask any other evidence than your own simple statement of your conscious experience of the difference; but if I insist on an answer, you will appeal to the psychological principle of the inhibitory power of the sensibilities. This is a different thing from the power of the sensibility to compel a choice (a thing which we deny). It is the power of one sensibility to dis- place another feeling or idea or at least to throw it into the background of consciousness. General Grant records in his memoirs that he was suffering with a severe headache when he received the message from Lee that he was ready to surrender. He asserts that " the instant I saw the contents of that note, I was cured." In proof of the varying intensity of your tooth- ache at the two times, you will perhaps remind me that last night it destroyed all the pleasure of the evening meal, while this morning you ate your breakfast with comfort. Last evening it was with difficulty that you read a chapter from a book of side splitting jokes, while this morning you have been able readily to fasten your attention on the solution of a difficult problem in Mathematical Astronomy. It does not seem unrea- sonable to say that with the same person, that exercise of the sensibility is the more energetic which is able the more per- sistently to thrust itself into consciousness. If you would understand the type of psychosis which we have called the weak conscience you must conceive of some one whose knowl- edge of duty in some respect is clear and distinct, Hut his feeling of obligation is feeble. Some degree of it he must have; for it is inconceivable that a man should intellectually approve one good as higher than another, without experiencing in some measure a sense of obligation to choose it: yet it does often occur that this feeling is so feeble, so unobtrusive, that it is easily thrust aside. In like manner let us suppose that a man has chosen the lower of two goods, and has done that which his judgment condemned. Some feeling of self reproach is sure to follow, but in the supposed case it is not a greatly disturbing element in the man's life. He still eats and he eats with a relish. He sleeps and he sleeps soundly. His waking hours are THE CONSCIENCE 91 filled with business or mirth, and no avenging spectres haunt his twilight reveries. The opposite of this is the man the poet has in mind when he says that "Conscience doth make cowards of us all." He is scared by dreams, terrified by visions and "sees things in the night," and forever hears that awful voice which Pollock's angel heard resounding through the caverns of perdition: "Ye knew your duty and ye did it not." Let the man with the Dark Conscience have also a Weak Con- science and you have the stuff of which to make those beings whose "deeds will make the cheek of darkness pale." We can no more account for all the variations in energy with which the moral feelings are exercised, than we can explain all the varieties in the delicacy of our senses of sight and hearing. At this stage of our inquiries we only note the fact that there are such variations, and assign the name Weak Conscience to the soul which is but feebly moved by the moral feelings. The Perverted Conscience. In our discussion of the Dark Conscience we said nothing as to how it came to be dark. We used that term to designate the condition of inability to discern moral relations. The term carries with it no suggestion of the manner in which that condition was produced. There may be several reasons for such darkness. In one it is a real, a con- stitutional infirmity of the intellect an inability to think either widely or deeply a spiritual vision that "cannot see afar off." In this condition the individual does not deserve blame. He challenges our pity. It is unfortunate to have a dark conscience just as it is unfortunate to have poor eye sight, however the condition of imperfect vision may have been pro- duced. But there is another case. It is that of the man who has deliberately put darkness for light; who for his own gratifi- cation has chosen to call some evil good and has done this until he really believes it so. This is the Perverted Conscience. It is more common than may be supposed. The author's atten- tion was first called to its frequency in conversation with the executives of prisons and reformatories who stated that a considerable percentage of the inmates of those institutions considered themselves the most abused martyrs above ground, 92 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE and that nothing could get that thought out of their minds. Account for it as you may, it is one of the effects of a course of wrong doing long persisted in that the man comes to see things crooked. Talk with him point out the error of his course, and he will meet you with the slang phrase, "I can't see it." A lecturer commenting on this fact cried out: "O that fearful 'can't see it'!" It may at first excite our surprise that the human soul should be so constituted that this is possible. Like many other investigators we are liable to be led into speculation, and to find ourselves each according to his temperament either con- demning or commending the plan of the Creator. But we have no occasion to sit in judgment on the plan of the cosmic administration. Such an effort would not be thought of in the field of the physiologist or of the physician. It is not his province to find how the human body ought to have been made, and what the conditions of health ought to have been. He simply inquires how it is made and what the conditions are. The moral philosopher is not primarily concerned with proving that the order of nature is the most beneficent conceivable. He like other scientists inquires first for facts. Let a holy God or a malicious fiend be supposed to be in control of the govern- ment of this world. It matters not for this portion of our dis- cussion. The cold fact remains a fact. Man's moral con- stitution is such that he may in time voluntarily reverse many of his moral judgments. He can sometimes willingly believe a lie until he is no longer capable of seeing that it is a lie. There is possible a Perverted Conscience. Joseph Cook when lecturing to college students where tutors were available, teaching not alone the truths of a science, but preparing the candidate to give specific answers to examination questions, spoke of the "tutored conscience." The term is very expressive. It is a dangerous experiment to "coach" the moral judgment in order that it may approve the solicitation of passion or of self interest. The individual who does this in one particular, prepares himself to do so in another, and is liable sooner or later to be found incapable of moral discrimination. THE CONSCIENCE 93 A good example of the Perverted Conscience may be found in the case of the leaders of the Mormon church. No more sincere company of religious zealots ever did the bidding of a leader than that which followed Joseph Smith to Nauvoo. Of course we believe that their theology was a poor one, but there have been many examples of an upright life existing along with a bad theology. But for the promulgation of the doctrine of polygamy, the Mormon church might have had as honorable a place in history as any one of a score of fanatical sects which have risen since the Reformation. The espousal of that doctrine by the great mass of the church is an example of the fearful lengths to which the perverted conscience may go in the reversal of the moral judgments of civilization. The Seared Conscience. This type is related to the weak very much as the perverted is related to the Dark Conscience. The man with the weak or the dark conscience may be entirely blameless. His condition may be what it is without any con- currence of his will. The man with either the perverted or the seared conscience is never without guilt. In the case of the seared, the defect is due to the man's own self determined activity. It is in the sluggishness of operation of the feeling of self reproach that the characteristics of the seared conscience are most readily seen although the other moral feelings share the infirmity. It is a fact of our psychical constitution that an emotion assented to, and acted upon, increases in its power to dominate the life even though it cease to occupy so large a place in the mental content. An emotion repressed or simply toyed with, not acted upon, decreases in its impelling energy. The man who habitually acts in response to his sense of obligation will find that this sense is made to act with increasing energy, while his choice and consequent action are made easier, since the passions which had opposed themselves to the sense of obligation are the more easily resisted a second time. On the other hand, if appetite or greed of gain has been exalted over the sense of obligation to-day, on the morrow their assault 94 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE upon the man will be reinforced by so much of habit while the sense of obligation will assert itself with feebler energy. In like manner the choice made against the sense of obli- gation, we may suppose in the first instance, was followed by intense self reproach. This feeling impels to two things: (i) to do whatever is possible in retracing the evil steps already taken to do whatever may be done for the undoing of the consequences of the evil act. (2) On the occasion of the recurrence of another conflict between selfish passion and duty, its memory is present re-enforcing the sense of obligation and warning me of the uncomfortable emotions I may expect if I again transgress the law of my being and choose the lower good. But if this second time I presume to set aside the sense of obligation and repeat the transgression of yesterday, I am likely to find that I do not suffer the amount of discomfort that I had anticipated. I may know as well as ever that I did wrong, but I am not as much troubled by my knowledge of that fact as I was on the previous occasion. If now this experience is repeated until I can, without sense of shame or consciousness of guilt, do that evil deed, and then continue to eat and sleep undisturbed by regrets I have, hi its completeness, the Seared Conscience, the most lamentable condition into which the human soul can plunge itself; a condition which an ancient writer described as that of those "who being past feeling have given themselves over to work all uncleanness with greediness." We have treated at some length the several types of the defective conscience. It is in place now to observe some species of excellence in the moral nature. Imagine a man who is able to accurately discern moral relations most certainly "to approve the things that are excellent " to weigh cor- rectly the differences which changing circumstances make in the fitness of an action in order that it may conform to the law of good will; who, moreover, is able to hold his egoistic emotions in abeyance and make his moral judgments uninfluenced by prejudice or self interest. This man is said to have an enlight- ened conscience. The things we have named also describe the THE CONSCIENCE 95 discriminating conscience. These qualities characterize the action of the conscience as intellect. In the realm of the sensibility there is what is known as the Tender Conscience. This term describes the condition of the man whose moral feelings are acute and easily aroused. He feels keenly the sense of obligation to do that which his judg- ment has approved as right. And in the event of a failure so to do, he is filled with unspeakable anguish. A poet has aptly described this condition in a few lines of song. We believe it takes nothing from its merits that the singer in several places reveals his faith in Christian theology: " I want a principle within Of jealous godly fear; A sensibility to sin, A pain to feel it near. The Tender Conscience give. Quick as the apple of an eye, O God my conscience make; Awake my soul when sin is nigh And keep it still awake." CHAPTER XVIII QUESTIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE I. "WHICH is the safer guide in matters of duty, the feelings or the reason?" Let us understand what feelings are in the mind of the questioner. Men sometimes say, "I feel that I must do this or that," when were they to speak correctly, they would say: "I very much desire to do this or that." It is in a very indefinite way that a man's appetites, emotions, or pas- sions are any indication at all as to that which he ought to do. To illustrate: I am hungry. Perhaps that hunger does indicate that it was designed that I should live by eating. It may further indicate that I now need food. Admit all that, but the question what I shall do in regard to the tempting viand now before me is not answered at all. For aught my appetite will reveal, there may be disease in this particular morsel. Neither will my appetite inform me of the needs of others whose claim to this particular loaf may be better than mine. A very common error in practical ethics is to put a feeling of inclina- tion for the dictate of conscience. More than once when people have asked the author's advice and have been told "Do what you think to be right," they have quoted him as saying: "Do what you feel like doing." No two counsels could be farther apart than these. Not only is there no necessary coincidence of the reason with natural inclination, they are often found diametrically opposed to each other. Seeing this, one moralist even suggested that the natural impulses were given us for the purpose of being resisted. Without taking this extreme view, which has in it the principle of asceticism, we would say that these are not the feelings which claim our attention, in an effort to answer the question before us. It is the moral feelings as a guide to duty which are here to be considered. We have the case of a man QUESTIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE 97 who says: "My judgment is that this is what I ought to do, while I feel that I ought to do otherwise. " "I believe that this is right, but am troubled with a guilty conscience when I do it. " In short, conscience is supposed to give contrary counsels; as intellect discerning and affirming one good to be the higher; as sensibility pressing me with the sense of obligation and the fear of self reproach to do the other. We do not believe that any case of real conflict such as that supposed can occur; but should one appear to arise in the experience of any one, he should understand that in a question of duty the sensibility is no guide at all. We have shown that the moral feelings always follow the moral judgment, and we are confident that to this rule there are no exceptions. The cases where a feeling of self reproach has followed an act supposed to have been in conformity with the judgment, or a feeling of approval an act not in conformity with it, need to be more carefully considered. An example will perhaps explain the paradox, or at least hint at the solution. A pioneer Methodist preacher once gave in the hearing of the author his experience in burning corn for fuel. He said: "From my earliest recollection I was trained to preserve from waste every morsel which any thing could eat. When corn was shelled for meal, it was the rule that every grain scattered on the floor must be carefully picked up and thrown to the chickens; to sweep it into the fire with the litter was a sin. My mother would quote the proverb: "A willful waste, a woe- ful want." This training received a rude shock when as a young man I was sent to preach in a town on the frontier in a treeless region. The trade in coal had not yet been established there. Many settlers burned corn. Wood was hauled from ten to fifteen miles, and sold at from ten to twelve dollars a cord and at times could not be procured at all. I bought two cords at that price I vowed I would not burn corn. About the time that wood was gone, I found my pocketbook empty also. A brother proposed to bring me a load of corn. He burned corn. He argued the case with me. I yielded. I shall never forget my experience with the first fire made of that corn. It made a good fire; we were the most comfortable we had been for weeks, 98 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE but I was unhappy. There sounded in my ears my mother's warning: "A willful waste, a woeful want. " So sharp were the pangs of conscience that, after burning corn for two days, I took my team, went to the timber, and by cutting and hauling the wood myself brought the cost within the possibilities of my pocketbook. It made a heavy draft on my time. Some of my work was left undone and my wife resorted to painful expedients to save fuel, but we had that inestimable blessing, a clear conscience. During the following summer, as I rode over the prairies, I made the matter an object of careful study. I compared that country, with its possibilities of corn culture but scarcity of timber, with southern Ohio, in its early settle- ment with its abundance of timber, but small and hardly tilled cornfields. The question now came tome: Why had my mother not thought it a waste to burn all that good timber in the log heap? It occurred to me, too, that God who had created the timber in Ohio had left northwestern Iowa treeless. If men were to live in Ohio they must raise corn ; and to raise corn they must clear the forest and waste the timber. If men were at this time to live in Iowa and raise corn they must have some- thing for fuel. Let us see: the Ohio pioneer could with great effort raise ten acres of corn among the stumps and roots. The Iowa farmer easily raised forty acres of corn; he can take five acres of that (an abundance) for fuel, and then have three and a half times as much as the Ohio farmer toward feeding the hungry millions. It seemed that if the Lord were wanting to feed the world bountifully, he had done a good thing in sending the Ohio pioneer to Iowa, to raise his forty acres of corn instead of ten, although he did take five acres for fuel. The matter was settled in my mind from that hour. When the next winter came we "had corn to burn, " and I never had a twinge of con- science over it again. " We have given in his own word the man's story in full, because it furnishes a better solution of the difikulty than any abstract statement could do. He had the feeling of reproach, when burning the corn at first, because he had never really, in his own mind, reversed his former judgment that corn burning QUESTIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE 99 was wrong. At the solicitation of self interest as a matter of economy, he allows himself to be persuaded by his neighbor to change his practice, but he had not changed his moral judg- ment. That change was reached only during those summer meditations. After that he burns corn with a clear conscience. II. Is conscience a safe moral guide? No one with an under- standing of conscience as it has been explained in this work could ask that question. It is just as absurd as to ask whether a man's eyesight is a safe guide, in walking along the road, or whether the reason could safely be trusted in the solution of a problem in geometry. These cases have many points of simi- larity. "The light of the body is the eye. " There are but few perfectly sound eyes. If you are entirely blind, you will com- mit yourself to the guidance of another, which after all is but trusting his eyesight rather than your own. But if you at- tempt to go abroad alone, there is absolutely nothing for you to trust but your eyesight. Be it good or bad, safe or other- wise, it is all you have. Is the reason a safe guide in the solution of a problem in geometry? "Oh, I have no talent for mathematics." That generally means, "I have no taste for mathematics. I do not like the close application, the intense effort and strained attention necessary to mathematical demonstration." But if you must have it so, let it be conceded that you were poorly endowed by the Creator in that respect. You were "born short" on mathematics. Its concepts are hard for you to comprehend and use. What will you do about it? Some stu- dents commit the demonstration in the text, but that is a study of words, not of geometry. If you really go one step forward, you must use your own reason. It may be a poor guide, slow, dull, sluggish, but it is all you have. It is true of mathematics, as some one said, "He who enters its mystic gate, and explores its vales and hills, must go alone. " No heat of emotion will soften the shell of a mathematical hard nut. Your reason, good or bad, you must use. What it does not do is left undone. We would say the same things of the human conscience. Let it be remembered that it is the ioo STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE conscience as intellect of which we now speak. Some writers speak in terms of commendation of those trusting souls who yield unquestioning obedience to priest, or church, or book. Be it so. Truly "blessed are the poor in spirit"; but we can approve such confiding obedience in mature life, when, and only when, the reason has first, on evidence, judged that the priest or the book is trustworthy. To do that is the province of the human reason. Trustfulness and hope are indeed good things, but it should be remembered that those moral teachers who have most magnified these virtues have exhorted us to be "ready to give" a "reason for the hope that is in us." No, conscience is not an absolutely safe moral guide, but it is all you have. Following your conscience you will make some mistakes; still following it you will have fine opportunities to correct them. Set conscience aside and you will make many more mistakes, and have nothing with which to correct them. III. Does a man always do right in obeying his conscience? The answer to this will depend on the meaning of the questioner. Does he inquire objectively or subjectively? Does he mean formal or material Tightness? If he means formal Tightness, we answer yes; for formal Tightness consists in nothing else than conforming the choice to the moral judgment. If he mean material Tightness, we answer, not necessarily; indeed he may be doing just the wrong thing. If you ask which is the more important, subjective, that is formal, or objective, that is material Tightness, we would say that subjective Tightness is most important to the man himself and objective Tightness most important to his neighbor. A public speaker in Iowa in a political campaign a few years since said, "I would rather do wrong thinking that I was right, than to do right thinking that I was wrong." More profound moral philosophy was never uttered. Once more formal or subjective Tightness depends on the conformity of the will to the moral judgment; material or objective Tightness depends on the absolute cor- rectness of that judgment. We may give an illustration of the principle involved: Your physician stands at your bedside while the balance swings between life and death. Several QUESTIONS CONCERNING CONSCIENCE 101 courses of treatment are open to him. Absolute certainty as to results may be an impossibility, but there is one course, that after deliberation and counsel commends itself to him, as on the whole, holding out the greater probability of life and health. Now to that physician, subjective Tightness consists in his choice to do that thing, objective Tightness depends on the correctness of that thing. Every one will agree that sub- jective Tightness is most important to the physician, objective Tightness most important to you. Does the physician do right in obeying his conscience? Yes, even though in so doing he ignorantly gives you the medicine that kills you. A man may be subjectively right and objectively wrong, but he can not be subjectively right, unless he thinks he is objectively right also. A careful distinction should be made between things which conscience requires and those which it simply does not forbid. A man has carefully, seriously, dispassionately, as he can, weighed everything known to him, in the relation of his neigh- bor to himself. A certain course of conduct appears to him the one most befitting his manhood. In regard to this there is a categorical imperative "you must." There is nothing else to do. He is condemned if he do not obey. But the voice of conscience is not thus emphatic about everything. Not all things permissible are obligatory. Some conduct will appear to me indifferent; e. g. shall I take beef steak or pork steak, as I sit at the restaurant table with my Jewish neighbor? He can not choose pork without condem- nation, but I can not plead equal conscientiousness in demand- ing it. In his youth the author knew two Protestant families, each employing a Roman Catholic hired man. These men would not eat meat on Friday. In one home, on Friday, the meat was made to take a subordinate place, while a bountiful supply of eggs was cooked. The household could eat eggs on Friday as well as on any other day. In the other home that day was selected for an ostentatious display of roasts and broils. And both the man and his wife contended that they did it for conscience sake. Common sense will indicate which home showed the higher humanity. CHAPTER XIX AUTHORITY IN MORALS IN the light of our previous discussion, some may ask: Can there be any authority in morals? And frankly we answer, No. There is no authority in morals any more than in mathematics. We stand in both religion and morals for the Protestant right of private judgment. We accept the doctrine of this right, in good faith, with all its implications, its consequences, and its inconveniences. No human being of sufficient intelligence to form a moral judgment has a right to surrender his right to form that judgment, to the dictates of another. I absolutely deny the right of any priest, church, or of any other master under the sun, to do my thinking for me. To submit to such domination is moral suicide. And yet in the affairs of human life, there come times when there are conflicting judgments as to the right in practical affairs. Some action is imperative. A "modus vivendi" must be found. One man or the other, must, for a time surrender his external conduct to the judgment of another. It is the purpose of this chapter to set forth when and to what extent this is permissible. The question is really one of Practical Ethics, but on account of its close relation to the principles we have been discussing, we will consider it here. Remember that in any case it is the conduct, not the moral judgment that is yielded. The most that can be said of the moral judgment is that it is held in abeyance. The right to form one's own moral judgment must never be surrendered; but we repeat there are times when even in matters involving moral relations one may submit his conduct to the judgment of another. i. In childhood: It would be very unfortunate if children were obliged to learn all moral truth as original investigators. The child early comes to know something of his limitations; 102 AUTHORITY IN MORALS 103 that parents are wiser than he and that it is best to trust them in matters of opinion and action. We would have him accept moral maxims in the same manner and in no other manner, than that in which he receives their statements of politics, of history, of science, and of the mechanical arts. In all these things he is in tutelage. He receives his first ideas in them ready formed, and on his parents' authority, and up to the time of matured reason, must yield to them in matters of conduct. Meanwhile he is forming his own opinions. It should be so in morals, and there is no reason why the transition from simple, unquestioning obedience to independent and rational judgment and action should not be as easy, gradual and natural in the one case as in the other. It is a mistake to teach children that morals and religion are in a field so exclusive and individual that they are at liberty to treat the parents' wishes with con- tempt. 2. Any man may act upon the conclusions of those who have merited his confidence, pending the formation of his own moral judgment in the matter in question. But observe that in any matter involving my own well being, or in one where my conduct may involve the rights of another, I can justify myself in suspending judgment only until I have in my possession the facts on which to base a judgment. In no case when those facts may be obtained is it permissible to rest on the judgment of another. I am obligated as a reasonable man to form an opinion, and having formed it to surrender it only on the presen- tation of new and convincing proof. "With charity for all, and malice toward none," and courtesy to those who differ from me, I must maintain that opinion against the world. Majori- ties do not count in morals. 3. Pending the formation of my own moral judgment, and while I must commit my conduct to the direction of another, it may occur that a choice must be made between opposing authorities. This rule is suggested to be observed in the selec- tion of the authority to which I submmit. The presumprion is in favor of the more discriminating conscience. This is in accord with other psychical facts. One man affirms that he 104 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE sees more stars in the sky than another; the presumption is that the stars are there. One man affirms that he sees more colors than another; the presumption is that he is correct. One man affirms that there is a discord in a piece of music. Although ten others heard nothing amiss, the presumption is that the discord is there. It may be thought that we will find few occasions to use this principle. There are but few compared with the great number of occasions when one may form his own moral judgments with reasonable certainty; but there are a sufficient number of such cases to justify us in calling attention to the principle. There is hardly one of earth's great wrongs concerning which men have not been compelled to choose their course of conduct between opposing authorities. In another place we have spoken of Lincoln's visit to New Orleans where he witnessed the sale of the girl from the auction block, and said: "Boys, if I ever get a chance to hit that thing, I'll hit it hard." There were other flat-boatmen with him from his own neighborhood and social circle. They were just as able to form a correct judgment as he. As to what they said when they came home, history is silent. It is usually silent regarding men without positive convictions; but you can easily imagine the whole crew coming home, sitting around the corner grocery, airing their opinions to the gaping loafers. Is there anything which ought to determine the attitude of one of those listeners toward those diverse opinions? Only this: the presumption is in favor of Lincoln's more discriminating conscience. And if pending the formation of his own opinion, he is compelled to cast a vote for or against the extension of slavery, that consideration would justify him in casting his vote on Lincoln's side of the question. No one can give any reason for choosing to follow the less discriminating conscience, and the practical outcome of rejecting our principle in such cases is to surrender one's self to the sway of selfish interest and passion. 4. How may one be assured that his moral discernment as a faculty is good, and that in some particular case it is correct? We can not go far in this discussion until we strike a difficulty. Absolute certainty beyond the possibility of some shade of AUTHORITY IN MORALS 105 error is seldom attainable. Almost every thoughtful and con- scientious man has found himself under the necessity of revising the moral judgments of his early years. He can seldom know that the judgment which he forms to-day will stand the test of time and of his further matured experience. He can seldom be sure that he has all the facts which might modify his judgment. But if he make this discovery the ground for assuming an indiff- erent attitude toward ethical questions, he falls into grievous error. The infirmity we have noted is not confined to our ethical knowledge. With all the appliances invented to aid our senses, it seems probable that the greater portion of the things which transpire in the universe are absolutely unperceived by us. Let us ask another question. How may a man know that he has good faculties of hearing and of seeing? and that in any given case through these senses he has apprehended "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth"? We are forced to admit that the possibility of error always exists, and that much of what goes on about him does not reach the soul at all, because of the dullness of these senses. And yet the man would be counted mad who would refuse to use and trust those senses. The soul exercising the power to hear is the only authority as to its power to hear. Let an oculist test your eyes, and you will agree with me that the soul exercising the power to see is the only authority as to the acuteness of vision. The soul itself, exercising the power of moral discrimination, is the only authority as to its power of moral discernment. The proof to you that you have good eyesight, is that you do see afar off, and that you do distinguish minutely the things that are near. The proof that your moral discernment as a faculty is good will be the fact that you find yourself really making discriminations that you form moral judgments frequently; that the great mass of human conduct is adjudged by you as right or wrong; that you discern moral relations in your own conduct continuously. Especially may you consider your moral discernment good if you find it opposing the obstacle of a moral judgment to your imperious appetites and your selfish passions. 106 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE Let no one make the mistake of supposing that his power of moral discrimination is irrevocably fixed in the status in which he finds it at a given time. No doubt there are limitations and we have no right to expect all men to reach the same level of proficiency; but there is nothing clearer than that acuteness of a man's moral discrimination varies from one period of his life to another. We have likened the conscience to our senses of sight and hearing, but the analogy breaks down at an impor- tant point; you may injure your eyesight, but you can do little to improve it. Your moral discernment is capable of improve- ment of development. The sweet singer of Israel exclaims: "My ears hast thou digged"; and again: "Open thou my eyes that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law, " and Paul prays for the Ephesian Christians that " the eyes of your under- standing" might be "enlightened." As to the correctness of any particular judgment, again the soul's power to discern is ultimate. To me things can not be otherwise than they seem. The only use that the judgment of other men can have for me is to suggest that I go over the ground and look again; perhaps that I again examine the facts on which my judgment was based. There are some circumstances, however, which may well make me suspicious of my moral judgments and lead me to hold them subject to revision: (a) When they have been made with only a partial consider- ation of the facts, or with a limited knowledge of them. (b) When the conclusion reached is one that has been fore- casted and longed for. (c) When the judgment has been made under the pressure of a very energetic egoistic sensibility. Presuming the essential facts on which to base a judgment to be at your command, there is one condition of soul which is very favorable to the correctness of the moral judgment. This is an attitude of absolute indifference as to how the truth may affect you, if only it is the truth. 5. Another question at times of considerable importance relates to the respect which men of diverse moral views on some AUTHORITY IN MORALS 107 subject are bound to show to each other's opinions. We have already called attention to the fact that there is a difference between the conviction that a doing or forbearing is a duty, and the simple persuasion that it is permissible to do or to for- bear as the case may be. In the former case the man must act; he has an object for which he must contend, on pain of condemnation. In the latter case, to forego his privilege of action or forbearance may be a deed of charitable courtesy. No ethical theory has ever involved the idea that a man is in conscience bound to insist on the full extent of his privileges. Now it sometimes occurs that men of equally good intellect, with equal access to facts, and equally desirous to judge rightly, find themselves facing each other with radically different moral judgments. It is sometimes possible that such persons as Abraham and Lot or Paul and Mark may part, and sundering some of their relations to each other, cease to annoy one an- other. In other cases, separation may be either impossible or on some account unwise; a "modus vivendi" must be agreed to. Some one must yield a point. Who shall step aside? The rule for cases of this kind is that deference is due to the man with positive convictions of duty. Respect should be shown to the man who feels the pressure of an obligation to act. Do not confuse this with the rare case where each with equal pres- sure feels the "categorical imperative"; then it is: "Lay on MacDuff, and damned be he Who first cries 'hold!' 'enough!'" But seldom in the moral struggles of society, is the issue thus sharply joined. Once again we turn to that cyclopedia of ethical illustra- tion: the American civil war with its antecedents; it has be- come fashionable in some quarters to laud the heroes of the "Lost Cause," and treat the matter as though the men on both sides were equally deserving of credit for devotion to what they conceived to be the truth. However correct this may be as to the rank and file of the contending armies, it is not true of the men who precipitated the struggle. In the antislavery controversy, few if any advocated slave holding and slavery zo8 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE extension as a duty. The most any one could do would be to claim it as a privilege which he must be allowed to enjoy where- ever he pleased without rebuke. And when Secession was brew- ing, very few advocated it as a duty. It was a privilege to be exercised by the states at their own sweet will. The applica- tion of the principle we are considering that of deference due to the men with positive convictions would have saved those four years of wasting and carnage. Let no one think, either, that the distinction we have made between things required and those simply permitted was unheard of then. In his first inaugural, President Lincoln addressing his "dissatisfied fellow countrymen" says: "You have no oath registered in heaven to destroy this government while I shall have a most solemn one to preserve, protect, and defend it." What was this but an appeal to the principle we are considering? They could for- bear with no violence to conscience; he dared not retreat. It is usually so with those who push and those who oppose moral reforms. BOOK II PRACTICAL ETHICS CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION WE come now to the study of the content of human duty Although the term Ethics, from the Greek "ethos," custom has sometimes been used to cover the whole subject of Moral Science, for our purpose it seems more appropriate to limit it to one division of the subject the enumeration and classifica- tion of duties with a discussion of each. Ethics must always be studied in the light of Moral Philos- ophy, just as the special problems of any branch of mathe- matics are subordinate to the axioms and fundamental thought conceptions which underlie the whole science of quantity. In our inquiry as to the specific duties which one being may owe to another, we shall have frequent occasion to refer to the prin- ciples already enunciated. Ethics is an inductive science. We have so far studied the moral nature of man by direct observation, and the propositions set forth generally have been such as could be verified by each one in a simple act of introspection or have been directly de- duced from such observation. In our inquiry as to the specific activities which human duty requires, the processes of our study will be as truly inductive as in any natural science. The field which furnishes us the ground of our inductions has several divisions: (i) The con- stitution, physical and psychical, of the normally developed man. The possession of any capacity, impulse, or passion in mature manhood is an indication, could we but read aright, of the life which at some time the man is designed to live. Note the provision, could we but read aright. It is very easy to err in our judgment of the significance of a given propensity 109 no STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE of one's self. Every impulse is an impulse to act, and to act now. There is neither reflection nor forethought in appetite or emotion. They crave their objects immediately; not alone when they minister to our well-being, but when they may become agents of destruction. Near the middle of the eighteenth century, some philosophers having grasped the thought that the impulses of a being were indications of the proper activities of that being, raised the cry of "Back to nature." We have asked that human impulses be studied in the normally developed man, but some disciples of this school, carrying their theories into pedagogy, have said that "the desire of the child is the voice of the Infinite saying what the child should have." No great amount of testing this theory is necessary in order to show its absurdity. The child desires pie, ergo he needs pie; he wants pie now, ergo given him pie now; he wants much pie, ergo give him the whole pie. Your ten-year-old boy wants money, ergo leave your pocketbook on the table and tell him to help himself. Seldom will you find a better example of "answering a fool according to his folly" than the suggestion of J. S. Mill, that the possession of a given impulse is so far from furnishing a warrant for its gratification that it would be an equally valid inference, that our impulses were given us to be resisted. We will not discuss the relative merit of the two errors, but insist that nor- mal human nature must be taken into account by him who would explore the field of human duty. If any one ask, "Who deter- mines the normally developed man?" we answer you do. Nor will the perverted ideals of a few conscienceless desperadoes any more trouble you in fixing upon the best type of character than the existence of a few Flathead Indians will prevent your forming a judgment as to the normally developed human body. Our estimate of any being must take into account what he is fitted to become, as well as what he is now. In any induction you may make regarding human duty, if you would know the weight which you should give to the presence of any appetite or passion, you should observe the place of that impulse, not in the immature and petulant child, not in the vicious criminal, not in the one-sided hobbyist with a theory to maintain, but INTRODUCTION in in the man who in self poise and symmetry of character im- presses you as "the all around man." (2) We have seen that conclusions based on our observation of the human constitution are liable to error; it is permissible to rest in such conclusions, only when they stand the test of examination in the second field of our inductions which is: the experience of men in society. We have assumed that hu- man well-being is an end in morals. Ethics is no respecter of persons; one man is just as worthy of consideration as another and no more. It would be easy to make a code for Robinson Crusoe. A man so situated would have no occasion to reflect as to how his conduct might affect anyone but himself. But we know that very few will live that isolated life. Some reading the book of Genesis, have wondered at the simplicity of the law given to Adam, On reflection it will be seen that the Revised Statutes of the United States, the Code of Iowa, or even the Ten Commandments would have little application. The num- ber and character of the relations in which one man stands to his fellow must always be the important factor in determining the list of his duties. Living in society as he does, it may occur that a course of conduct, well adapted in some respect to pro- mote one man's interest, may in that or some other respect, be fraught with mischief to his neighbor. For example: living in the country, a man may build his barn next the road and dump the refuse out at the front door; to do so in the city is fraught with peril to his fellows. In such cases it is the problem of ethics to find some course of conduct consistent with the well being of each. The shifting character of ethical codes is largely due to the changing nature of human relations. Ethical history takes note of two movements: the changes in the relations actually existing among men; and the growth in the intelligence of men in the recognition of these relations. These two movements do not always coincide. Our moral perception often lags behind the march of civilization. If our selfishness makes us content with things as they are, it is very easy to close our eyes to the new duties which changed condi- tions have thrust upon us. The history of slavery furnishes ii2 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE a good illustration. There was a time when war seemed the chief business of mankind. No matter how well disposed an individual might be the stern necessity was upon him of spend- ing a large share of his energies in defending himself against those who would trespass upon him. The war of those times was relentless. The slaughter of the vanquished was a foregone conclusion. To lose his life was the well understood forfeit of being beaten. At that time it seems to have been the happy thought of some one to spare the life of his captive, and set him to working for him. Such is the generally accepted account of the origin of human slavery. Thus in its beginning it seems to have been a merciful institution. But as time moves on changes occur in the relations of nations. Diplomacy is born. It is found that a state of war is not the only one in which nations may exist. It is indeed an abnormal condition, and when it does occur humanity suggests means of softening its atrocities, without affecting the relative power of either com- batant. Prisoners need not be slaughtered; they are kept for a time and at a convenient season are exchanged. Clearly the excuse for slavery no longer exists, but ages pass before men, who had found property in human flesh profitable, recognized the changed conditions. (3) There is one more field in which we find ground for our moral judgments. A large number of men believe that a Deity, supposed to be benevolent and righteous, has supplemented the knowledge which lay within the grasp of unassisted human understanding by an authoritative revelation of His will, concerning the conduct of His creature man. We insisted that moral relations do not originate in the arbitrary fiat of Deity. But while such a fiat can not be thought of as the source of Tightness, the revealed will of such a Deity as we have supposed may well be believed to be the proof of rightness. And the simple possibility that such a revelation might be made will lay every reasonable man under obligation to attentively consider the probability of the genuineness of any purported revelation. And when anyone is convinced of its genuineness, he is bound carefully to take it into account in the formation INTRODUCTION 113 of his moral judgments. Indeed neither of these three fields may be neglected by the man, who would know the whole truth in regard to human duty. Do you insist that it is possible to solve every ethical problem by the exercise of the intellect upon the data of human experience? Suppose it admitted: it remains true that the process is a tedious one and that in practical life men often find questions of pressing and immediate importance which can ill afford to wait on the tediousness of such a solution. Under such circumstances, to reject a trustworthy guide because that finally the intellect might be equal to the solution of the problem would be folly, comparable to that of an engineer who would discard the use of a table of logarithms because he knew himself able to prepare one himself. On the other hand, to the one who insists that, having accepted a trustworthy revelation, he has no need to search for truth in other fields, we would suggest that however perfect the revelation which God has made, it was given to supplement, not to supersede the human intelligence. CHAPTER II DIVISION OF DUTIES DUTY is always thought of as owed to some being. This fact suggests the ground of division and we shall classify duties with respect to the beings for whose sakes the particular activities are exerted or forborne. Some moralists have said that a man owes duties: (i) to himself; (2) to his fellow man; (3) to God; (4) to brutes; (5) to inanimate nature. We shall treat of only the first three classes, insisting that as duty can be owed only by a moral person it can be owed only to a being who is now or potentially may become such a person. Few will contend that a class of duties to "inanimate nature" should be recognized. It is true that there are activities of doing and forbearing which terminate on forest and mine and soil. The obligation arises out of the existence, present or prospective of sentient beings, who will need these natural agents for sustenance. It is these sentient beings, men like ourselves, to whom we owe the duty of conserving the resources of the earth. The case is by no means so clear for throwing out the class of " duties to the brute." It must be freely con- ceded that much can be said in favor of the position that while personality is the characteristic of the beings who owe duties, sentience is the essential mark of those to whom duties may be owed. We are not prepared to say dogmatically that a man never does owe any duty to a brute, neither do we affirm that he does. One who so affirms will find that it leads him into very perplexing difficulties as soon as he attempts to say what those duties are. Those religious fanatics who a few years since turned their oxen loose in the wilderness and pro- ceeded to cultivate their farms with spade and hoe, had only accepted with honesty the logical consequence of conceding that man does owe duty to the brute. We leave the question an open one, but observe that most of the cases of supposed 114 DIVISION OF DUTIES 115 duty to the brute are of a negative character to the effect that I shall refrain from giving the brute unnecessary pain " or from acting toward him with "cruelty or wantonness." The poet insists that I shall "step aside and let the reptile live." He would hardly have insisted that I was obligated to exert myself to provide that reptile the means of subsistence. For all these kind forbearings, for all the compassionate instruction given to children, for all the good work of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, we have nothing but commendation, but insist that for all these activities there are other and weightier obligations than can arise from the relations of man to the brute creation. In another place attention was called to the weakness of McCaulay's smart criticism of the Puritan, that "he was opposed to bear-baiting, not because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the spectators." Perhaps McCaulay saw no evil in the bear garden, except the suffering of the bear, but it is well for civilization that there were those who saw the effect on the character of the spectators. A certain moral teacher gives this account of an experience of his own: "One Fourth of July morning I saw on the street a crowd of men and boys who had induced a large mastiff to attack a lighted bunch of fire crackers. To them it seemed rare sport to see the courageous brute, after each explosion, with bleeding mouth renew the attack. You will say that I had a duty then and there. I agree, nor will we differ as to what my duty was. It was my duty to protest against that whole brutish business. There may be a difference of opinion as to the object of my obligation. Was my protest a duty to the dog? If you contend that it was I will not argue the case, but do insist that my far weightier obligation was to my fellow men who were there imbruting themselves." Nor does it affect the case as to the object of his duty that the condition of the dog excited his pity, and the conduct of the men aroused his indignation. With a good degree of sympathy for those of you who think that Dobbin and Towser should have a place in your scheme of moral conduct, we still prefer to divide duties into three classes, believing that every case of obligated conduct is either (i) a duty to self, (2) a duty to one's fellow man, or (3) a duty to God. CHAPTER III DUTIES TO SELF To some it may seem strange that a man should owe duties to himself. In the popular thought of duty the term is reserved for activities directed to the well being of another, and it is in relation to duties of that sort that the moral consciousness of most men makes itself known. A little reflection, however, will justify our assertion that a man does owe duties to himself. No reason can be given why in his scheme of beneficent action he should ignore himself. As a matter of fact in many realms he will not do so. One trouble with the world has seemed to be that the activities of most men are too self regarding. To such regard a man is impelled by inherent instincts and passions. To such an extent is this true that a large share of his effort, if he would be even a decent man among his fellows, is directed to holding in check his self regarding impulses. If there are any of these activities to which the man might appropriately be impelled by a sense of obligation, you certainly have there a case of duty to self. If it appear to a man that by his nature he is fitted to become in any respect a better man than he is now, it is inevitable that he should feel obligated to attempt to realize that improved type of manhood. However he may disregard it, he must feel upon him the pressure of the "eternal ought" asserting that he should be that kind of a man. Here is certainly a duty to self. The moral feelings of self approval and self reproach will testify to the same thing to each of us. If two goods have been presented to me and I have knowingly chosen the lower, I cannot do otherwise than reproach myself for having so chosen. I will do this whether any other one is affected by my choice or not. It has sometimes been asked, What duties would a man have were he alone in a world all his own? Indeed his code would be a meager one, and would 116 DUTIES TO SELF 117 consist chiefly of negative precepts, but these would be as rigidly enforced in his moral consciousness as any precepts could be. They would pertain largely to the satisfaction of his appetites. He could not but condemn himself if because some article of food "tastes good" he should so overload his stomach as to sacrifice health to appetite. But this is not all. His curiosity would be excited by the things occurring in nature about him. He could not but consider the joy of knowing a good. It is possible that he might feel himself impelled to seek the solution of some of the mysteries that confront him. If so he owes to himself the duty of self improvement. It seems probable that the pioneers in science made their first efforts in response to impulses originating in the manner just indicated. The conduct of a few choice spirits shows the existence of the impulse, while the ignorance and sloth of the common herd for so many ages bear witness to the sluggishness of the human soul in its response to the obligation to self improvement. "Old hermits sought for solitude In caves and desert places of the earth Where their own heart throb was the only sound of living thing That comforted the year. But the bare pillared top of Simeon in midnight's blackest waste Were populous, matched 'gainst the isolation drear and deep, Of him who pines among the sons of men, at once a great thought's king and prisoner." Thus we see that even living alone a man would not be altogether a stranger to the conception of duty. But it must be confessed that the content of that duty would be meager. Man, a social being, will owe, even to himself, duties which man, a hermit, a solitary animal, could never know. Does his social environment render possible to him a new development? May he now in any respect become a larger man than before? If so there is a duty to himself to become that kind of a man. The duties a man owes to himself will be of two kinds, so made by the different kinds of good which their respective performance effects. There is good of condition and good of character. As a result of his superior mental endowment man n8 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE alone of earthly beings is able to appreciate in any degree good of character. For the same reason his appreciation even of good of condition seems better and more discriminating. And he is capable of something which at times rises to the dignity of moral conduct in the choices he makes of physical good: some kinds of food, clothing, shelter, exercise are better than others: better, too, measured in other terms than those of immediate satisfaction. It will be found that it is in the choices made in this realm that the development of the moral nature in most cases really begins. Although good of character may never be sacrificed to good of condition, let no one despise those duties which pertain to the bodily life. (i) It is a man's duty to live as long as he can consistent with his regard for the higher good of character. We would not ignore the fact that life may be risked in the service of one's fellows. Many are the cases where "he who would save his life shall lose it." The character that developed in self denying service is an infinitely higher good than the mere prolonging of a few more days of breathing. But this does not affect the truth of our general proposition that, under the condition named, a man is obligated to live as long as he can. He has no right, by overt act or by recklessness or even by indifference, to cut short his stay in the body. In the belief that the suicide is necessarily insane it has become our almost universal custom to look on him with nothing but pity. Were our assumption correct this would be the right attitude. But there are indica- tions that the suicide is not always irresponsibly insane. We are appalled at the increase in the number of suicides in recent years, and in many cases there is intelligence which was capable of weighing consequences, and there are also indications that their impulses were not beyond the control of the will. There do come times in many lives when it appears that to lapse into unconsciousness might be desirable. Shakespeare makes Hamlet speak true to human nature in his soliloquy. In his thought he has reduced the pain of dissolution to a minimum and he is only deterred from taking his own life by the uncertain character of the dreams that "may come when we have shuffled DUTIES TO SELF 119 off this mortal coil." Evidently two things are the recognized deterrents of the would-be suicide : one the instinctive shrinking from the pain of dying, the other the apprehension of an unknown somewhat in a conscious state after death. But medical science has shown the possibility of a well nigh painless death, and account for it as we may we cannot close our eyes to the fact that in some circles there has been a decay of faith in human immortality. The changes in these respects will account, in a large measure, for the increase in the number of those who take their own lives. In the troubles which have beset them they call for our sympathy, but in choosing to throw away their lives rather than face their duties they are blameworthy. Let it be persistently taught that a man owes it as a duty to himself to live as long as he can, and he cannot without guilt intentionally cut short his stay on earth. Reck- lessness regarding one's own life marks a low, rather than a high, state of civilization. It is difficult to state exactly the circumstances which will call for the sacrifice of one's life, but it would seem that it is only when some effort has in it the possibility of saving the life of another, or of making other lives stronger, larger or richer in some important respect that a man is justified in assuming extraordinary risk. All honor to those who in quest of that knowledge which is giving us the control of disease have risked and even sacrificed their lives but contempt mingles with pity for those who seek notoriety by walking tight ropes, making dangerous balloon ascensions, and fighting furious animals. If you say that there is something in human nature which craves the excitement of those spectacles where danger to human life is imminent, we answer yes in some natures, but insist that it is a morbid and depraved nature. Before you seek to justify the jeopardy of a human life you must show some end to be accomplished of greater importance than the amusement of a sensation loving rabble. There is another offense against one's life which does not pass by the name of suicide. We reserve that term for those who have intentionally sought the sudden termination of their lives. But there is real guilt when a man in the pursuit of 120 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE either wealth or pleasure enters upon a course of conduct which he knows will shorten life. Work of either hand or brain is healthy, and the world's work ought to be so done, and we believe could be so done, that the life of the toiler would not be shortened thereby. There is in every organism a con- stitutional capacity to run some certain length of time. The attempt has been made to find the ratio of this time to the time of the animal's development to maturity. Results are yet in doubt, but if you will appeal to your own knowledge of domestic animals you will be struck with the persistence of the ratio of one to five. It may yet be shown to be a fairly safe generaliza- tion that the period of an animal's development is about one fifth of the period of its normal life. There is enough in this to raise the question: Why should not a man live to be a hundred years old? Life may have been shortened more than it need to have been to have justified the ancient bard in saying: "The days of our years are three score and ten years." We have become familiar with the phrase, "the strenuous life." Whatever else it may mean we may be sure that a strenuous life is a discounted life. (2) Under the same limitations heretofore mentioned it is a man's duty to live as comfortably as he can. Some may question the propriety of making mention of this as a duty, thinking that self interest without any regard to obligation will prompt a man to avail himself of all the provisions which nature has placed within his reach whereby he may add to his comfort. Sometimes this is true, but not always. We" have all laughed at the case of the native reported by the "Arkansas Traveler" who did not repair his roof in rainy weather because he would get wet in so doing, nor yet in dry weather because he did not need it then. The case is more than a caricature. Human inertia is often a great obstacle to human comfort. You might with propriety press upon the attention of our Arkansas friend a moral obligation to take care of himself; to make use of some of the timber growing in abundance about him. To make some shingles and to repair his leaky roof was more than a privilege; it was a duty to himself. DUTIES TO SELF 121 It is to be observed that in his ability progressively to turn to account natural agents and forces, for the satisfaction of his wants, man is far in advance of every other form of life. Given the same environment, each species of beast, bird or insect will shelter itself and procure its food in the same manner from one generation to another. The honey bee builds her comb just as she did when Virgil sang her praises. The beaver builds his dam and the robin her nest just as their ancestors did in prehistoric times. It were trite to tell you how man in his progress from barbarism to civilization has improved his dwelling, his clothing and the preparation of his food. I only call your attention to the fact that to do so was his duty. Nor have we any reason to think that nature's store is exhausted. Read Romans 8:19-22. " Made subject to vanity ' ' (uselessness , emptiness) well states the fact in regard to steam, electricity and many other things in their relation to human well being for centuries. Who can tell what other materials and forces for a time made "subject to emptiness" may yet be let loose when the Creator shall see a regenerated humanity capable of using them beneficently? CHAPTER IV DUTIES TO SELF CONTINUED The Appetites AMONG the sensibilities we noted the class called Appetites. They have certain characteristics: i. They are spontaneous in their manifestation as experienced by us. As to external gratification they are largely under the control of the will, but as physical cravings they arise not only when we would, but when we would not. 2. Though known by us as physical cravings, they have their origin in a condition of the bodily organism. 3. Their function is to secure either the normal healthy life of the body or the perpetuity of the race. Not all of them have received names. Some are designated by naming the object of the craving. We enumerate : Hunger, Thirst, Motion, Rest, Sleep and Sex. The end of the appetite in the animal economy seems to have been secured by making its gratification pleasurable. The continuance of life would have been impossible had the appropriation of the means of living been obliged to await the development of rationality sufficient to command the doing of an act either unpleasant or indifferent; and here it is to be observed that the very possibility of living opens the way to the most serious consequences to any being designed for anything higher than the brute life. Long ago Aristotle gave us his conception of man as "an animal which lives according to reason. " Nowhere is the dis- tinction here noted more marked than in the different places which, by the consensus of opinion of all thinking men, the appetites seem designed to hold in the human and in the brute economy. The appetites are common to man and beast. In brute life appetite is supreme. You expect nothing else. Excitation is the sufficient reason, and satiety the only limit you fix to indulgence. All the impulsive cravings of the brute 122 DUTIES TO SELF 123 life are in man, but you demand that in his case the impulse must be tried at the bar of reason. The obligation to so try it will be admitted by every one who is not ready to affirm that man is at liberty to live as the brute lives. What rationality is expected to do for the mature man, instruction, discipline and parental control are supposed to supply in the case of chil- dren and youth. It might be interesting for each one, with our list of appetites in mind, to note how much of the education of children and youth in conventional good manners and decency is directed to the placing of the appetites under the control of the will, and the assignment of them to their proper place in a rational scheme of life. The appetites are obtrusive. In their cravings they are imperious. As President Porter says of them: "They are pre-eminently self centered. They ask nothing as to consequences to other beings." He might have added, nor of consequences to one's self in the future. In the brute we are satisfied with this. We expect him to satisfy his hunger and thirst; to move, to sleep and to lust with no restraint except that imtoosed by superior force. Let a man do likewise, and you charge him with debasing himself. In- deed our common use of language, which often holds in it the apt expression of philosophic truth, has just one phrase in which to describe the man with unbridled appetite: "He is making a beast of himself." His conduct is "brutish." If we are to reconcile the existence of this animal nature of man with the higher life, which we feel that he is made to live, we must provide for the satisfaction of the appetites, in a moder- ate, rational, and beneficent manner. We would not for one moment pose as an advocate of either covetousness, sloth or lust; they are the crying sins of this, as of perhaps every age. Ten sermons should be preached against them where a single word is said of the character of that which is now spoken. Because it is the truth we say it: Every young man is under a moral obligation to find some avenue of effort in which, by toil of hand or of brain, he may provide himself with "bread to eat and raiment to put on. " We believe, too, that we might with propriety add that for the great majority a happy mar- 124 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE riage in its own good time is also one of the things for which provision should be made. It is foolish for one to say that his life is his own and that if he choose to throw it away by a failure to provide for its wants, it is no one's business. He can not throw away his wants. He will not be so indifferent when actual want stares him in the face. The man without provision for the necessary wants of the body is a burden upon and a menace to the good order of society. It is not our purpose to consider each of the appetites separ- ately, but to make such general observations as will apply to the whole class, though, as will readily be seen, with greater force to some than to others. The importance of the appetites to our well being may be seen by imagining them left out of the human economy. An infant would have to be forced to take his food, and the sponta- neous movements of the body would have to be replaced by artificial ones. As already indicated the pleasure attached to these activities seems designed to secure the necessary action until maturing reason is capable of giving direction. But that the appetites should be brought under control is indicated by the fact that their unbridled indulgence plunges the individual into the depths of misery. Nor does he alone suffer the results of his overindulgence. If we could banish from the earth all the sickness, pain, and sorrow due to the unrestrained and irrational gratification of some one's appetites, the world would be a much pleasanter place to live in. It is clearly desirable if possible to find some rule in accord- ance with which the satisfaction of the appetites may be made to serve human well being and not become a means of de- struction. This rule has been proposed: All appetites are to be gratified with reference to the end for which they are placed in the human constitution. For example, it is said: "Eat to live, do not live to eat. " There can be no doubt as to the cor- rectness of the principle here enunciated, yet its application may not always be as simple a matter as might at first be sup- posed. Two widely different views may each claim the sane- DUTIES TO SELF 125 tion of the rule. According to the first, an appetite is to be gratified, solely and only, to the extent that is absolutely neces- sary for securing its end. To illustrate: I am hungry. Now the fact that I crave some particular kind and portion of food which is before me is no warrant for my eating it. As a rational being with the aid of the chemist and physiologist let me ascer- tain just how much of each variety of food is necessary to repair the waste of the body, then eat that much and no more. And lest I may be tempted to overeat, let my food be of the coarsest sort. If two articles equally wholesome are before me on the table, take the less palatable, lest I may be guilty of a needless indulgence. Am I thirsty; "clear cold water is the drink for me. " Do not put in it any tea, coffee, or lemon juice. Inju- rious or not they are condemned by the fact that they add noth- ing to the power of the water to quench thirst, which is the sole end sought. Their use serves only to increase the pleasure of ating and drinking, and that motive I must resolutely trample under foot. Now many will dismiss this view of the matter with one contemptuous word: "asceticism." But giving a doctrine a name does not make it either worse or better. Let the rose arid the dogfennel change names: each under the new name would possess its former characteristics. In favor of this inter- pretation of the rule, there are several things that may be urged: (1) When men are to be trained for feats of strength or skill, in which it is desired that the organism in some of its parts shall be at its best, they shape their habits by rules of training that very much resemble this. The purpose is to cut off not only that which is pernicious, but the superfluous also. There is an example of the application of this view of our principle, in the training tables of athletic teams. More than once when uttering a protest against what seemed the excesses of college sport, the author has been told of the benefits which certain young men have received from the discipline of the training table. (2) There are many of earth's greatest and best men whose rules of living were much like the one we are considering. 126 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE Diogenes, Socrates, Augustine, St. Benedict, St. Francis, Loyola, Peter the Great, William of Orange, John Knox, and John Wesley may challenge the apologist for a pampered appetite to produce a like list. (3) Adherence to this interpretation of our principle is a sure method of accomplishing one thing greatly to be desired. A man so living becomes the absolute master of his appetites. There is a moral grandeur in the man who can say, "I keep under my body and bring it into subjection." So desirable is this end that if it could only be attained in the observance of this extreme rule, we should advocate its adoption. Nor should the man who desires the highest things in character be deterred from its acceptance by the fact that the saying is a hard one and that it offends the common herd. Majorities do not count in morals. But we believe that the adoption of this extreme interpre- tation of our rule is not necessary to the attainment of the most perfect discipline, and that it is open to a serious objection. It assumes that there are sensibilities whose gratification is presumptively evil. We have seen that the generic element in the "good" is a gratified sensibility. We may fairly hold that the presumption note that we say presumption no more is in favor of the beneficence of every craving of the soul. It is only as it comes in competition with some higher good that any sensibility must be repressed. The pleasure of a gratified sensibility, while it cannot stand for a moment as an excuse for its exercise in the face of a probable damage either to one's self or another, is a justification for its exercise in the absence of such evil. We assert as the second view under our principle that "an appetite may be gratified at any time and to any extent in the absence of a reason to the contrary." An ancient moralist seems to have held this view for he says, " My son, eat thou honey because it is good, and the honey comb because it is sweet to the taste." Prov. 34:13- Does this teach unlimited gratification? The example of the author of it might lead you to think so but he was only another example of those moralists who can teach better than they DUTIES TO SELF 127 practice, for hear him again: "Hast thou found honey? eat so much as is sufficient for thee lest thou be filled therewith and vomit it." The example here cited that of a child with his craving for sweets is fairly typical in both its permissions and its limitations of the whole class of appetites. Most of us can remember our own childhood's craving for candy, sugar, molasses, honey, jam, and preserves; some of us remember how irksome were the restraints laid on our indulgence. Now the teaching of this author would be that the child's craving, the pleasure of his gratified taste, is a sufficient reason for his indulgence to the point where a higher good, in this case the child's health, rises on the scene. This one case may stand for all. According to this view, if I am hungry and in the presence of food, the presumption is that I may eat. If there are two kinds of food before me the presumption is that I may eat that which tastes the better. And it will require some positive reason to set these presumptions aside. Let it not be for- gotten that there is a possibility of such a reason arising and that reason of a very imperative character. The food may not be mine; or perhaps my neighbor needs it worse than I do: it may be of a sort damaging to health; any one of a score of reasons may exist wherefore I may not eat. Our only claim for the rights of a normal appetite is this: that my craving raises a presumption in favor of gratification, and the case must be made against it before I am certainly obligated to abstain. If all reformers would recognize this truth, it is possible that some of their wholesome rebukes might not arouse the resentment which they do. Nothing conduces more to good feeling in a discussion than the generous recog- nition of the rights of your opponent. We would not have any one abate one whit of his zeal against the practices of the glutton, the sluggard, the drunkard and the libertine. We only ask him to accept his proper place in the controversy. The burden of proof is on the reformer. He must make his case against the supposed excess before he can expect the devotee of pleasure to abandon his indulgent practices. We may fairly claim for the view here advocated the prac- 128 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE deal advantage of simplicity. It is easier to detect the injurious than to be assured of the absolutely necessary. It will be observed that this view leaves an ample field for the develop- ment of character in the mastery of the appetites. To say that an appetite may be gratified in the absence of a reason to the contrary leaves us free to insist ever so strongly on its suppression in the presence of such a reason. That reason may rest in the fact that the supposed indulgence involves a risk to health or a sacrifice of character, or is productive of injury to another. Even when no one of these results may be certainly foreseen, it is enough to put one on inquiry if the proposed indulgence involves a violation of those rules estab- lished either by the civil law or by the conventions called good manners for the government of human beings in society. Most of the cases for the restriction of the indulgence of the appetites will fall under a few general heads: (i) An appetite is not to be artificially stimulated. Such stimulation can hardly fail to react upon the organism. We cannot too strongly condemn the practices of those cooks and housewives whose purpose would seem to be, not the satisfaction of the appetites of hungry men, but the stimulation of the palate of those who have already eaten sufficiently. The inducing of sleep by the use of opiates is a practice so dangerous that the good physician even in cases of necessity will use it with caution. If a man is not hungry at meal time or is not sleepy at bed time, there is some abnormal condition of the organism to which attention should rather be given. (2) An appetite is not to be indulged at any time or in any manner which will impair the capacity of any organ of the body for its normal activity. Health is always a higher good than any of the pleasures of sense. A good digestion is better than mince pie. (3) In conformity with what has already been said of the subordination of good of condition to good of character we observe that every indulgence of appetite is to be resolutely suppressed when it tends to establish a habit which weakens in any way the forces of the moral nature. Certain artificial DUTIES TO SELF 129 appetites, like those for alcohol and narcotics, are always of this character. They become cravings against which the will seems well nigh powerless. No man can afford to have an appetite for his master. (4) Appetites are to be gratified with careful consideration of the happiness present and prospective of others. We can do no better at this point than to quote the words of President Porter: "The appetites are all eminently self centered, and are necessarily exclusive and in a certain sense repellent of the claims of the appetites of other men. If undisciplined and unrestrained they easily lead to open disregard of their interests and claims, if not into open assaults upon them in insulting manners and violent deeds. Obtrusive greediness in eating and drinking give offense even when there is enough for all. Any bodily preoccupation whether pleasurable or painful much more in forms that are extreme, as of heat or cold, starva- tion and thirst, presents the strongest impulses to some unhand- some neglect or forge tfulness of our fellow men. This exclu- sive and self centering power is fearfully illustrated in conditions of man's great extremity as in shipwreck and impending death. This natural tendency is enormously increased when the appetite is voluntarily accepted as the master and tyrant of the man. Gluttony, intemperance and licentiousness are notoriously selfish and cruel when they become acknowledged and absorbing passions. Let them encounter a rival or a foe and their subject becomes not only a brute in his degradation but a brute in his cruel hate if disappointed or opposed in his gratification. No fact is better attested by universal and obvious experience than that the appetites not only trample into the mire the most tender of natural affections but that they inspire man with fiendish hate toward those who would reform or resist his brutish impulses." Against this dark portrayal of the evils of unbridled appetite we would set before the reader the fact that history bestows its choicest laurels on the men who have been able, even in extremities, to subordinate their appetites to more worthy impulses. Sir Philip Sidney has been immor- talized, not by the product of his pen, though he was an author i 3 o STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE of no small degree of merit; not by his deeds of valor, though he was a brave soldier, but by an incident in the closing hours of his life. Every schoolboy knows the story. Mortally wounded and being carried from the field, an attendant brought him a cup of water; just as he put it to his lips his eyes caught the longing look of a wounded private soldier lying by the roadside. He pushed the cup aside, saying: "Give it to him, his necessity is greater than mine." The unsocial, I had almost said the antisocial, character of the appetites has led men to make laws which on occasion restrict their indulgence. Even more than law; we have in every civilized society a body of customs and usages, which embody the wisdom and experience of generations. Let no one imagine that the etiquette of table manners and the con- ventions of society relating to the respect which the sexes are to show to each other are mere arbitrary restrictions. Back of most of them there is a reason for their observance. The presumption is overwhelmingly in their favor and it is reck- lessness, almost unpardonable, for immature youth to set them aside without a most careful inquiry into their reason for being. With changing conditions some of them may indeed be found to be outworn, but until condemned in the open court of reason, they should bind the conscience with all the authority of moral law. (5) Whenever possible the satisfaction of appetite should be made to contribute to pleasures of a higher order. The hog eats; so does the man, but it is a grave reproach to the man to say that "he eats like a hog." "The life is more than meat"; the dinner is, or ought to be, more than a "feed." It is to this end that we eat at a table instead of each in his corner and that we have our social events with the tables spread with all the appointments of good taste. The application of these rules will require the exercise of common sense and discretion. Though we seek for simplicity in our rules of living we cannot hope altogether to avoid diffi- culty. That difficulty is increased in every case where the pressure of appetite is strong. To the man with an intense DUTIES TO SELF 131 craving for any satisfaction it is not hard to find a refracting medium for the moral judgment. It is very hard for the man given to appetite to say like the scientist: "What care I what the truth may be so only that it is the truth?" Some may think that there would be an advantage in more definite codes grant- ing this, forbidding that. This is properly done for childhood; but with maturing intelligence shall not man indeed become "an animal living according to reason" in the ordering of his life? Against the consequences of the grosser and confessedly most injurious forms of indulgence society has sought to pro- tect itself, not so much by "sumptuary legislation" as by the conventional customs of modesty and good manners of which we have spoken. These at most, however, touch only a small portion of a man's life. By far the greater number of questions relating to what I shall eat or drink, when and how I shall take my sleep, rest or exercise are left to my individual judgment; and there we would have them left, only insisting that it shall be the judgment enlightened by careful study, and relieved of the warping bias of present passion. CHAPTER V DUTIES TO SELF CONTINUED Duties Relating to the Character The Intellect THE discussion of the topic of this chapter leads us back to the thought that frequently the same concrete act may be included in all three classes of duties. The Samaritan finds the wounded Jew by the wayside : the most obvious duty is one to his fellow man, but it is easily seen that if he is a devout man he will feel this duty likewise enforced by a sense of obligation to God. Further if he has reflected on the end of his own being, if he has set up an ideal of the kind of a man he ought to be and become, he will owe it to himself to help this wounded Jew. Indeed I may find that every act which is primarily a duty to my fellow man or to God is in a secondary sense a duty to myself also since the doing or not doing affects my character. The question has sometimes been asked whether there are any duties of a man to himself with respect to his character which are not primarily duties to God or to his fellow man. Ascetics of all creeds have said yes. Utilitarian philosophy emphati- cally answers no. In this, as in so many other disputed problems in philosophy, it is probable that there is a truth which lies at the foundation of each one's one-sided judgment. The question is one of speculative interest almost entirely. Seldom, if ever, will we find it necessary to go outside the realm of practical life in quest of "spiritual gymnastics" and yet there are doings and forbearings of which the most immediate result the most prominent in your consciousness is the effect on your own habits and soul life. If that effect is beneficent it may well become an end in our activities. If we have appre- hended the blessedness of holy being, and have in mind that we owe it to ourselves to become the very best sort of beings of which we are capable of becoming, we will certainly con- 132 DUTIES TO SELF 133 elude that it is a duty to ourselves to avail ourselves of every- thing within our reach which may aid us in the realization of that end. As such an aid we would name an improved Intellect. That we may see how the improvement of the intellect is related to the moral life let us review for a moment some of our previous discussion. We denned Character as the attitude of the soul toward righteousness made permanent by activities of will. Consider attentively the terms of this definition: (i) It is an attitude of the soul. It belongs essentially to the per- sonality itself. Obscure as this may seem we can say little to make it clearer. We would if possible make plain that the character which we seek to define is not of the nature of a polish or veener which for prudential reasons may be laid upon the forms of speech or action. It belongs, so to speak, to the very texture of the self. It is an attitude of the soul. (2) This attitude is one which has come to have some degree of permanence. It cannot be called character if it is an attitude from which the soul can be driven by every shifting breeze of passion. (3) This permanence has been established by activities of the will. It is a self-determined attitude. The choices may have been few or many; they may have been made against greater or less resistance, or may have accorded with the man's natural tendencies: but the element of conscious self-determined commitment must have entered into the man's experience before you can affirm character of him. There is a distinct moral gain whenever men are induced to choose rightly. Religious revivals, even of the most super- ficial nature, do accomplish some good. They all have in them this element that men are led to make choices, to commit themselves for the right. (4) This permanent self-directed attitude of the soul is toward righteousness, i.e., with reference to righteousness. Of course it is toward righteousness as the man sees righteous- ness, and here is where intellect is of service to character. Righteousness, as some one has truly said, is "Tightness in action." We have seen that Tightness is either formal or material. Formal Tightness is subjective and consists in the 134 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE choice of that which has commended itself to the judgment as the fitting thing to be done. Material Tightness on the other hand is objective. That is materially right which as a matter of fact is the appropriate or fitting thing to be done. Evidently because of the fallibility of human judgment formal Tightness may issue in material wrongness and the righteous man is always grieved when he finds that such has been the case. He may comfort himself with the thought that he did the best he knew, but he must always wish that he had known better. The man who has attained a correct attitude toward righteous- ness, not only does the right as he sees the right, but he earnestly desires and tries to know what the right thing is. Now, that knowing is an intellectual act, and the better the intellect the better the possibility of the man's knowing. It may be said that there have been men of powerful intellect who have shown great moral stupidity. Admitted, but in every such case the man is condemned more severely than the mediocre. There is weighty condemnation in the saying "he ought to have known better." My eyesight may be ever so good, but if I do not look out at the window I do not see the landscape. The offense of the reputedly brilliant man who showed moral stupidity is that he did not turn his intellectual power in the direction of moral discernment in the matter in question. It is unfortunate that so many men are content to pass through life receiving at second hand their moral judgments without question. The victims of the Salem witchcraft craze would never have been burned had their judges thought to subject their traditional belief in witchcraft to the test of their own intelligence. In more than one crisis the cause of truth has suffered as much from men of "reprobate minds" (literally minds void of judgment) as from men of corrupt hearts. We believe the reader is prepared to concede the obligation of a man to cultivate the intellect, not alone because that intellectual power is a good of a high order, but for the use he may make of that power in the discernment of moral relations. Obvious as this may now seem to us, but few people compara- tively have even thought of it. DUTIES TO SELF 135 It is unfortunate that the advocates of scholarship so often present such partial views of the obligation to seek intellectual culture. Students are frequently warned by the popular lecturer to beware of the discouraging idea that a college education will interfere with their success in gaining money or political preferment. He will show you that while not more than one per cent of the people are college graduates, that one per cent has furnished such a large proportion of our public men. And there he stops. Possibly there is a time in the life of a child when such views may properly be presented, but we have greatly overestimated the intelligence of the average high school graduate if he is not able to apprehend much more. It is a very faulty perspective of human life which sees in the power to gain knowledge only a means of procuring more things to eat and wear; more time to sleep, game or rest. From this error several bad conditions have arisen: 1. School work has become hateful. A man cannot provoke merriment any more surely than by suggesting to a body of students that they are so anxious to get to their lessons that they cannot patiently listen to his second-hand jokes. And yet we know that in all seriousness this ought to be true. 2. Worse still there is a tendency to relegate all specific ef- fort at mental culture to the schooldays. We divorce the school with its employment from what we term "practical life." We congratulate ourselves that we have placed the means of intellectual improvement within the reach of the poorest of the people; but we must confess that popular interest in the matter seems woefully in arrears of those improved conditions. We have no desire to prolong the period of school attendance. The time soon comes when the young must enter on the stage of self support; but we do protest against putting a period to their efforts in quest of intellectual power. Every one ought to have some activity aside from that in which he makes his living, which shall contribute to his mental growth. Bear in mind that mental capacities are not analogous to physical as to the time limit in the period of their development. The body has a period of growth that can by no possibility be 136 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE exceeded. It may not be at the same age for each, but to every one there does come a time after which he absolutely cannot grow any more. Whether he is five feet two, or six feet seven, he cannot by taking thought add one inch to his stature. Even that organ of the body most nearly related to mental processes will cease to grow. There is a weight of brain that each will reach and never exceed. Whether he wears a No. 6 or a No. 7^ hat, whether his brain weighs sixty- two or thirty-six ounces, he will come to a time, and that com- paratively early in life, when not another grain can be added to its weight. But there is no such limit to the soul's capacity to grow. Let every man continue to grow and not think of stopping until his friends are ready to order his coffin. And he will have use for all the intellectual power he can secure in the solution of the moral problems that will come before him. Probably this would be the last reason which most persons would assign for the training of the intellect. It is a common error to suppose that right and wrong are so easily seen that for the correct life no great amount of discernment is necessary. That view takes account of only one aspect of Tightness. It does not require any great mental power for a man to choose that which he for any reason has accepted as right, for the reason that choosing is not an intellectual act at all. The most untutored savage can choose to do or not to do that which his judgment has approved with just as much energy as the sage. Not so his power to determine what ought to be approved. Let any man or woman in business or society begin the New Year with the resolution, not only to do the right thing but also in every emergency to know the right thing to do, and before the grass grows and the birds sing he will have problems that call for all the discernment he can command. If this be true regarding those matters which are almost wholly personal, what shall we say of the man's need of mental acumen, when he is called to choose his attitude on the political, economic, social and religious problems of the day? Consider the num- ber of unsolved problems that are to-day in the public mind. By unsolved we mean more than that no man has been able DUTIES TO SELF 137 to induce society to accept his solution of the question. We mean that no sober thinking man has been able to formulate a solution in which he can himself rest with assurance. There is certainly a right thing to be done about the "trusts" if we could only find it. The glittering generalities of the average stump speaker show that he does not know what it is, and we believe that even the most positive of the aggressive school of Ex-President Roosevelt will concede that his measures are only partial and tentative. Who really knows what to do about the traffic in intoxicants and narcotics? There is certainly a best thing to be done. But with the most intense convictions that something drastic must be done, many of us can only see far enough into it to be sure that some things (license for example) are not the right thing. Most of us are in a similar condition of uncertainty regarding the race problem, to the solution of which the American people seem no nearer to-day than they were forty years ago. In our church life we might instance the question of the proper attitude of the church on popular amusements. There are only two classes who would seem to be satisfied with their own attitude. These are, on the one hand, the unblushing devotees of "the world, the flesh," etc., and on the other the irrational adherents of a traditional puritanism. It is safe to say that neither of these classes have really thought about it and those who have given it the most attention are far from claiming to have thought their way through. "Who is sufficient for these things?" Our twentieth century civilization needs two classes of great men: (i) great thinkers who can think their way through difficult problems, and (2) great leaders who will have not only ardor of conviction, but manifest "clearheadedness" to lead humanity along the trail that the thinkers have blazed out for it. CHAPTER VI DUTIES TO SELF CONTINUED Duties Relating to the Emotions " KEEP thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life." Important as is the cultivation of the intellect, it must yield place in importance to the cultivation of right habits of feeling. It is not a matter of indifference whether or not your neighbor is an ignoramus or an intelligent gentleman, but it is of vastly greater importance that he shall be of benefi- cent disposition, of a tender heart. You may or may not have use for his knowledge; you are sure to want his sympathy. You will not find the real man in the achievements of cold intellect, for "as a man thinketh in his heart so is he." In our estimate of ourselves there is no test like this: if we would really judge ourselves correctly, we will measure ourselves, not by the things we say and do under the eyes of our fellows, but by the hopes, aspirations and emotions to which we abandon ourselves in our moments of lonely musing. Such abandon- ment may involve a choice. For prudential reasons there may be no external action, but the inner self is surrendered to the dominance of the given emotion. We are often startled by some item of news to the effect that some one of previously good repute has all at once, by social vice or financial defalca- tion, made himself an outcast from society. Men hold up their hands in holy horror and say: "How are the mighty fallen!" Probably the man was not mighty, nor at this time has he fallen very far. Few deeds of darkness are committed without being first brooded over and committed over and over again in the "chambers of his imagery" (Ezek. 8:1-12). And even in those cases which we may admit to be instances of unpremeditated action, the effect of habits of feeling was not wanting. There come crises in human lives when the accumu- 138 DUTIES TO SELF 139 lated results of feelings cherished for years come crashing upon men's heads. George Eliot in portraying one of her charac- ters remarks: "It is the inexorable law of human souls that we prepare ourselves for sudden deeds by that reiterated choice of good or evil which determines character." True, there is a difference between robbing my employer's money drawer and simply, in the twilight, gloating over the imagined pleasures I might obtain with the money there is in it, but the two things do have this in common: I surrender my inner self to the exercise of an evil passion. "To whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are." "The crises of great temptation and the inspiration of golden opportunity" come seldom in any one life, and when they do come the issue is in most cases determined by the habits of feeling indulged and fostered in commonplace affairs. We are disposed to long for great opportunities and to despise in petty matters the care necessary for the formation of the right temper of soul. We would be Gideons, putting to flight the hosts of Midian, but forget that Gideon was called "a mighty man of valor" while threshing wheat behind the wine press (Judges 6:12). We would be Davids, securing the applause of shouting thousands as he returns victorious from the battle with the giant of Gath, but forget that this victory was made possible by the moral fiber of the boy, who could say: "Thy servant kept his father's sheep and there came a lion and a bear and took a lamb out of the flock, and I went out after him and smote him and delivered it out of his mouth, and when he arose against me, I caught him by the beard and slew him: thy servant slew both the lion and the bear." (I Sam. 17:34 et seq). The most trivial affairs of human life become momentous because of the feelings that in them have been given right of way in our lives. But some one may ask, Is it possible to do anything in the cultivation of right habits of feeling? Of all psychical activities are they not most beyond the control of the will? It is true that admiring a becoming state of feeling, or even resolving that I will feel in a given manner, are usually ineffective. But 140 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE there are things that I can do which will have an indirect, but no less powerful effect on my habits of feeling, i. I can make my choice accord with that to which I would be appropri- ately moved by the better emotion. By frequent repetition it will be found that this habit of doing will react upon the habit of feeling. This result, which we believe patient experi- ment will verify, is one which we might expect from analogy in the matter of the acquired appetites for alcohol and tobacco. Not only is there no craving in the normal constitution for these articles but there is a decided aversion to them, which as every one knows, is in time completely overcome and reversed by the man who by sheer determination does repeatedly choose to chew, smoke or drink. It would be strange if this capacity to change propensities applied only to the acquiring of bad habits. 2. Emotions are always called forth by an intellectual stimulus. I may turn my attention away from the unbecom- ing stimulus. It belongs to the disciplined mind to control the attention. Thus to a considerable degree I can control my feelings, by the control of the objects about which I think. 3. I may place before myself and choose as mine the highest ideals of character. 4. I may so order my employment, my associates, my reading and my recreation, that the higher emotions will be kindled and the lower ones repressed. CHAPTER VII DUTIES TO SELF CONTINUED Duties Relating to the Emotions Amusements THE admonition contained in the concluding suggestion of the last chapter finds its most important application in our attitude toward that class of activities, undertaken chiefly for the pleasurable exercise of the sensibilities, which are excited in and by them. This will be recognized as the characteristic of that class of activities to which the name amusements has been given. Reference has been made to the amusement problem as unsettled among moralists. Perhaps no question in morals has been the occasion of more acrimonious discus- sion, which leads nowhere, wanders everywhere, and leaves the disputants more at variance than at the beginning. There is little reason to hope that better fortune will attend any new effort at elucidation, yet we may find a line of thought not often chosen in this discussion. Above all let us enter it with the single desire to know the truth and to accept the truth without any regard to the cherished dogmas assailed or the pleasant practices rebuked. Preparatory to the discussion we may note a few things to which there will be general agreement. In all probability there is some place in human life for that class of activities to which the name amusement has been given that is, for action which has no further purpose than to excite pleasurably some sensibility. It should be borne in mind what has already been said of the significance of a craving in the human soul. It affords a presumption that there is some occasion for its use. It says nothing of the time, manner, or extent to which it may be gratified. It only affords a pre- sumption that there is a time when this craving may be gratified consistent with human well being; yea, when human well being will require that it shall be gratified. Now aside from the 141 142 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE appetites there is no impulse more universally manifesting itself than the craving for amusement. Go where you will, in some manner you will find human nature asserting its appar- ently irrepressible longing for action, which finds its sole reward in the fact of action; in short for action divorced from serious end. It is the work of human intelligence to find the proper place for amusement in the human economy. It would be strange if the amusement seeking impulse alone should be exempt from my obligation to "live according to reason." As a rational being I am obligated to find some principles for my guidance in this as in other things. To do this will appear the more important when we consider the effect of the unre- strained quest for amusement as seen in human experience. Outside the diversions of childhood there is scarcely a clean page in it. In the past the trail of the serpent has lain across the whole amusement business. Every year multitudes of men and women are the subjects of an aroused moral conscious- ness. They begin new lives and aspire to the attainment of higher character. Every year, too, a large portion of these persons in a short time lose their interest in the best things and lapse into a state of indifference. In a large percentage of these cases you will find that some form of amusement has been the occasion of the lapse. Observing this, nothing could be more natural than that some moralists should seek to set bounds to the gratification of the amusement seeking impulse. Notably has this been the case among religious moralists. It need not surprise us if their procedure should reveal the same logical fallacies, the same doctoring of symptoms before search- ing for causes, which has characterized the progress of medical science. Nothing could be more natural than that these moralists should attack those specific forms of amusement, the indulgence in which had been observed so frequently to be attended with those moral lapses. Every Evangelical church (as well as the Roman Catholic) has at some time put some form of amusement under ban. These prohibitions have not generally been the result of a narrow asceticism, nor have they emanated from a desire on the part of the clergy to exploit DUTIES TO SELF 143 their authority over their fellows. They have been made in sincerity of soul and with the earnest desire to promote good character in the members of their flocks. But many ecclesias- tical pronouncements on this theme are inconsistent, undis- criminating, and irrational. Such pronouncements usually take the form of wholesale prohibition of some form of pleasur- able action. The things most frequently condemned are the theater, the dance, and games at cards. The author makes no plea for these institutions. As a whole their effect on society is bad, and it would be difficult to show good reason for the continuance of any one of them in its present form. And the effort to reform them appears one of the most unpromising forms of beneficent activity ever attempted by good meaning men. We do not object so much to the things the clergy have done as to the manner of the doing. To this manner we object: (i) It appears arbitrary; it interposes before the young person an imperative and everlasting "don't." Instead of furnishing some principle for my guidance it substitutes authority for reason. True they say: "Let these things alone because they are bad," but fail to show wherein their evil consists, and straightway our young pleasure seeker will propose some of these forms of amusement under conditions in which the vicious tendency, if it exists at all, is very remote. (2) The effect of the very minute specification of certain forms of amusement is to leave me without any caution as to the others. It is perhaps true that there are some forms of sport like the prize ring, for example, which may well be put on the moralists' blacklist, but, when we undertake to make a special and total prohibition of those whose evil consists in their excesses and accessories, we leave the way open for the intro- duction of those same excesses in those amusements of which you have said nothing. "Happy is that man who condemneth not himself in that which he alloweth." All the evils of the dance may be seen in some social gatherings of people who would not dance for the world. In colleges where the students are forbidden to attend the theater there may sometimes be seen in class and society exhibitions things which have in them 144 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE the coarseness of the low grade comedy. What substitutes too we have had for games at cards. Not long ago the author had occasion to take a ride of some fifty miles on the cars. Near him sat a company of four young people of good families, and of at least conventional piety. It appeared that they had just been initiated into the mysteries of the newly invented game of flinch. No sooner had the train started than a suit case was turned on its side, and in a few moments all were intently absorbed in the game, and so continued for the hour and a half of the journey. It was evidently enjoyable; the best of feeling prevailed among them, the rivalry was plainly good natured and only temporary. The suggestion by one that the losers should treat to the oysters when they should reach the city was at once turned down by the others. Only a cynic could have grudged those young people the hour's relief from the tediousness of the trip. Just across the aisle sat a company of four commercial travelers. They were very gentlemanly young men, and they likewise sought something to take the edge off the weariness of the journey on the slow train. Their resort was a game of cards. They enjoyed it. Their rivalry, too, was plainly only temporary and there was not even a suggestion that any stake, however trivial, should be played for. Let it be understood that we are not defending the card players nor condemning the flinch players, but simply stating the facts as we saw them. The two things seemed to us very much alike. Whatever of good there was in the game of flinch to the one company was equally in the game of cards to the other. Whatever possibility of evil there was in the game of cards to the one company was equally in the game of flinch to the others. Yet ordinary ecclesiastical rules would not disapprove the conduct of the first company, but would condemn that of the card players. It seemed to the author that, approving one, consistency would have closed his mouth in attempting to rebuke the other. Those advo- cating the present position of most Evangelical churches on the subject will tell you that the cards are instruments of gambling, and, as Christians, one should shun the very appearance of evil, DUTIES TO SELF 145 they should let those instruments of gambling alone under all circumstances. But in this case the game of flinch had pre- sented to one person the temptation to gamble for a trivial stake, while four persons had played the game at cards without any suggestion of gambling. The effort to settle the amuse- ment problem by a set of rules specifically forbidding this and allowing that, seems doomed to failure. That which is con- demned may on occasion be innocent, while that which is permitted may at some time be fraught with peril. What I need as my bones are hardening into manhood is not a set of minute prohibitions and permissions, such as might be used in the control of small children, but some rational principles for my individual guidance, by which I may, as occasion arises, intelligently determine what I may do and from what I should abstain. In our search for such principles we may find some fundamental facts that the ecclesiastical moralist has gener- ally missed. And first, what is the end of the amusement seeking impulse in the human economy? Is there any reason why this craving so prominent in the brute should hold also such a prominent place in the human constitution? We will answer this question affirmatively if we can find some beneficent result which its presence accomplishes. We do not push our inquiry very far until we find it. We have seen that a high degree of capacity for rational living differentiates the mature human animal from the brute. But we find also that the very young human animal is no more capable of rationally directed activity than is the colt or the kitten. Rationalization is gradual and tedious. At some time this irrational being must put on rationality, but what is the young human animal to do for action, not of body alone, but of the mind also, pend- ing the process? The play impulse is nature's, yea the Creator's, answer to the question. It does for the mind what the instinc- tive and reflex movements of infancy do for the body. It makes sure of necessary action both of body and mind while rationally directed activity would be an impossibility. The use of the impulse suggests its limitations. With the growth of rationality we may expect the craving for play to take a i 4 6 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE subordinate place in human life. More and more as the days come and go and pass into years we may expect the life to be rationalized. More and more action, prompted by the love of a momentary pleasurable thrill, gives place to action which is prompted by a far-reaching beneficent purpose. How far shall this go? Shall the whole life be rationalized? Seldom perhaps in human experience has that goal been reached. But who would venture to give a negative answer to our query? No good reason can be assigned why any portion of the life of the mature man should not have in view some rational end. Some one has said: "The ideal state is one in which the man can find pleasure in that which he commands himself to do." Surely the serious employments of mature life will furnish the man of earnest purpose a sufficient variety of activity, and we are justified in insisting that the complete rationalization of life is a consummation to be wished, an end to be aimed at, and whose realization is to be expected. It is at this point that our religious moralists have so often fallen short. They have not grasped the thought of the temporary, the provisional character of all the activities to which the term amusement can properly be given. Very much may be permitted to the youth if he understands that he is expected to outgrow it as he does his knee pants, which would be sadly out of place in mature life. We would have every one whose soul has been thrilled with the desire to attain the best things in character under- stand that he is to expect the time to come (and the sooner the better) when purposeless activity is to be replaced by that which is purposeful; that is by energy purposely directed to useful ends. In short, we would have him recognize amusement as something which he is to outgrow. It will be interesting at this point to name the several classes of people for whom amusement of some kind would seem appropriate: (i) The very young. Play should fill the larger portion of the child's life. We may expect that his passage to rationality should be analogous to his infantile waking to consciousness. The infant for a few moments has his attention fastened on some prominent object and then DUTIES TO SELF 147 lapses into forgetfulness and slumber. Our ten-year-old boy will have his heart thrilled for an hour with the idea of acquiring wealth or fame, or knowledge or character, and straightway lapses into a condition of purposeless activity play and this is right. But modern pedagogy has not been content to leave the child alone to his spontaneous action. It has laid its hand upon his plays and said that they shall contribute to a purpose. In the kindergarten and primary school it seeks to supply a purpose in the child's activities. But note you the purpose is in the mind of the teacher, not in the child's: the child makes little piles of beans and incidentally learns the decimal system of notation. From the child's standpoint it is play, from the teacher's it is work. We may well rejoice in the improvement in primary methods while objecting to the idea that all life is a kindergarten, and if childhood must make reprisal on mature years and snatch back in sport the time out of which it has been tricked, we could wish that childhood had been given more fully and honestly to play and manhood left for earnest work. The primary teacher points with pride to her prodigies of infantile learning. What wonderful things those children learned when they thought they were playing! But she has unwittingly taught an error if the child has been led to regard as the necessary incentive to action the pleasurable thrill that only some action can give. He is not half prepared to live until he can hold himself to an effort which is even painful as a means to an end for a good that is yet to be. You have utterly failed in the boy's education unless by the time his beard has grown the impulsive life of childhood is giving place to that which is rational; unless he has found motives for his activity which are higher than the joys of present sensation or passion. (2) The very ignorant must be amused. There are those to whom nature is a sealed book. They are unable to appreciate anything in science, literature, or history. They have abso- lutely no wholesome interest in anything aside from the avoca- tion at which they earn their bread. Frequently, too, that has become hateful to them. I can understand that to such a 148 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE man some form of amusement might serve to keep him from dying of dry rot. (3) Some, but not all, of the above group will be included also in our third class : the very lazy. There are those who live an almost passive existence; who can scarcely be said to live: they simply exist; some one has suggested that they only vegetate. They only act as some strong, sensitive experience thrills them. Perhaps they are responsible for being what they are; but being what they are, and as they are, and while they are as they are, we would not assail them on the amusement side of their lives. The card table, the circus, and the dance may have important functions to perform for them. Such is the judgment of many settlement workers in our slums; men and women who reach after a class of humanity lower than General Booth's "submerged tenth." (4) Another class is the very tired. What shall we do when the head aches and the brain reels? The human soul must not be kept continually in a state of tension. Such persons must have a change of action. Amusement of some sort may be useful for the very tired. It will be a mistake, however, for such persons to push their quest for diversion to such an extreme that brain and nerve are as tired as ever. With them the purpose in amusement is rest in order that earnest work may be resumed. When this is accomplished the purposeless activity should cease. It may be questioned whether there is any rest to either participants or spectators in the strenuous game or the long drawn out contest." Our joyous exuberance at the close of such an event is not so good an index to the effect of the supposed recreation as the lassitude of the next morning. Amusement is allowable to the tired man, but let him see to it that he does not vitiate its effect by taking it in intoxicating doses. This danger has led some earnest people to question whether for the tired worker there are not things other than those usually called amusement, which will serve the purpose of recreation better. Some have found that weariness is best relieved by absolute rest, perfect relaxation. Again many tired men and women have found it DUTIES TO SELF 149 possible to provide a variety in useful activities and where this is possible it is certainly ideal. The author believes that in most cases it is possible for the earnest man. Is he a manual worker? Intellectual work will furnish the required variety. Is he a brain worker? It is generally possible to find some line of physical effort, useful and helpful to some end, which will give the, needed relaxation. The author wishes to give his testimony to the real rest and help that he has been able to find in that manner. He can not quite understand one of his friends, a preacher, and a good man, who could find no rest from his study in an hour with spade, hoe, or lawn mower, but did find it in a strenuous game of tennis. "Digging in the garden is work." That was enough to spoil it for him. The example of Tolstoi is commended to you. He found rest from his literary labors in cobbling the shoes of the Russian peasantry. Though a critic did say, "I would rather read his novels than wear his shoes." But the usefulness of amusement of some sort being con- ceded for a given person, is there any test by which he may determine the propriety of any proposed diversion? There is a very simple one, though it requires some ability at introspec- tion. The man with high ideals will feel bound to reject every form of amusement in which the thrill of pleasure which he experiences arises from the excitement of a debased passion. There can be no dissent from this statement, but its general application would revolutionize some circles of society. What if musicians and actors all at once concluded that nothing should go on the stage which tended to arouse the evil pas- sions of their patrons. How the moral tone of those professions would be elevated! However, it would probably bankrupt the whole business of commercialized amusement. It is impossible to resist the conviction that much of our popular amusement justifies the opinion of a critic who said that it "seemed to have been invented to enable men to enjoy sin without being themselves sinners." So confident is the author of the correctness and sufficiency of the test above indicated, that for people who have come to years of discretion he would 150 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE have no other rule. He would ask each one to settle the matter of the kind of diversion he shall take by asking this one question: "What is the character of the feeling that this particular activity develops in me?" With that inquiry seriously before each one he would not put any form of decent activity on the blacklist. It is certain that the conscientious application of that rule would make a marked depletion in the ranks of our Christian pleasure seekers. In our criticism of the conventional treatment of the amuse- ment question by the religious moralists, we would not depreciate the spirit which prompts them in their effort to shield our youth from debasing influences in their hours of recreation. Especially worthy of praise are those who, seeing the large number of persons who must be amused, seek to lure them from the evil by providing entertainment which is wholesome. It takes nothing from the praise which is their due that much of their effort is foredoomed to failure. In seeking to win the patronage of an amusement seeking populace they are at a serious disadvantage. When people start out with the sole purpose of being amused they will choose that which gives the greater thrill, the greater variety of excitement. Take out of much of our entertainment the spice of vice which there is in it and it has lost much that makes it popular. But could you succeed in eliminating from our popular amusements all that is pernicious, could we subject the diver- sions of our people to the judgment of the wisest censor, we would touch only superficially the evils we deplore. Worse than the bad effects of any of the questionable forms of diver- sion is the enthroning of the amusement seeking impulse. Mingle with the throng of pleasure seekers and you are impressed with this thought: "These people live to be amused." What- ever the service you render them in a proper censorship of their diversions, you "have healed the hurt of the daughter of my people but slightly" until their eyes are opened to see that life is more than a thrill or a laugh. How that can be done is one of the weightiest problems for those who say: "For the hurt DUTIES TO SELF 151 of the daughter of my people am I hurt." And truly "who is sufficient for these things?" In conclusion, to those choice spirits whose lives are inspired by noble purposes and high resolves for your consideration we submit this problem: "Required the place for amusement sport in the life of the mature man who craves for himself the best possible in character?" Years ago that question came home to the author as a personal one and to-day it stares him in the face unanswered. He does not say that no answer is possible. He holds toward it an attitude of open-mindedness. But it is not strange that after these years of thinking and waiting he is doubtful about rinding an answer. With each year of life the conviction is growing that in the scheme of life of that man or woman who craves not simply the good but the best in character there is no place for amusement seeking. CHAPTER VIII THE DOCTRINE OF RIGHTS THIS theme might be treated either under man's duties to himself or to his neighbor. We choose to place it between the two. In this discussion we do not use the term rights for the claims of a man on his fellow that owe their existence to the law of the State. We use it for those claims which men would affirm to exist prior to and independent of such law. To these the name natural rights has been given by some writers. The term has been much abused yet we lack a better word with which to distinguish from law created rights those claims which one man has on another by virtue of their common manhood. The origin of our conception of rights seems something like this: I am conscious of certain wants. I do not reason about them at first, I simply try to satisfy them. But with growing intelligence as I form an idea of the end of my being under the category of design, I believe that some provision has been made whereby I may satisfy every want whose satisfac- tion is necessary to the complete life as I conceive it. These things I claim as my rights. Further I find myself in a com- munity of men whose capacities, wants and feelings are in a hundred ways like my own. This belief has a corresponding feeling known in Sociology as "The Consciousness of Kind," which is of great service in Ethics. It is a fair inference by analogy, that those who resemble me in so many ways likewise resemble me in having claims against their fellows, to be allowed to accomplish the end of their being. The susceptibility of men to training, by means of this inference, is shown by the fact that everywhere one of the earliest and most effective appeals to the child's moral nature is made in the question: "Now how would you like to be treated that way?" It is to 152 THE DOCTRINE OF RIGHTS 153 be observed that A's rights with respect to B necessarily imply duties of B with regard to A. Thinking of them only as regards A, we say they are A's rights, but if B is considered as obligated to voluntarily concede them, we say they are B's duties to A. We propose this definition: "Rights are those doings and forbearings which a man may claim of his fellow man, and may enforce by an appeal to his consenting con- science." A French philosopher quoted by President Porter says: "Je n'ai 1'idee du droit d'autrui que parceque je con- nais que j'ai moimeme des droits que parceque je connais aupara- vant que j'ai devoirs. En effet je concois primitivement Pobligation de developper mon activite selon une certaine loi, de tendre vera un certain but, qui est le bien ou la perfection. "Cette obligation etant absolue, je concois en meme temps que je dois disposer de tous les moynes sans lesquels il me serait impossible de me developper conformement a la loi. Ces conditions sont essentiellement celles qui constituent ma personalites savoir ma raison et ma liberte; c'est la mon droit; et ce droit, je le congois une consequence necessaire de mon devoir. "Ce que j'appelle mon droit c'est done en definition la possibilite d'accomplir mon devoir, et de me"me la possibility pour mon semblable d'ac complir son devoir j'appelle son droit." Duties and rights being thus related, the question may arise: "What is the duty of an individual regarding the mainte- nance of his rights, as against those who owe him duties?" To some it may seem that such discussion would be superfluous, thinking that self interest in human nature may be safely trusted to prompt a man to do all in this respect that he ought to do. We answer not safely trusted. Under some circum- stances self interest has prompted a craven submission to injustice. At other times and more frequently it has prompted a pugnacious and ill considered overdoing. Natural impulses prompting a man to secure his own rights are very likely to overlook the moral claims of his neighbor, especially if those claims are of a character for which his neighbor does not care. 154 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE The answer to our question is often complicated by the fact that while my neighbor is bound to concede my rights, it is possible that he has claims upon me of which neither of us have thought, but which I am not at liberty to ignore in assert- ing my own. Let it be remembered that the assertion of a right is one thing, and the external activity employed to secure it is another. With that word of caution it may safely be said that a man owes it both to himself and his neighbor to assert his rights. We do not say how he shall assert them. We only say that it should be done. The manner of the doing is to be determined by each one in each case, as a reasonable being wisely suiting means to ends. It is an injustice to my neighbor, as much as to myself, to allow him to trample my rights under foot without protest. Nor is it most important that I force a concession from him. I must in some way appeal to his consenting conscience. Very diverse have been the means employed by good men in the maintenance of their rights. Sometimes it has been the stinging blow and the sharp retort. At other times the end has been accomplished (though here is a hard lesson to learn) by the spirit that "answereth not again" and which will u go twain" with him who "will compel thee to go a mile." It is a grievous error to see nothing beyond the immediate possession of that which it is my right to have. To illustrate: let us suppose that you owe me five dollars. You have it and ought to pay it now, but refuse. It is my duty to assert my right, but, in my scheme of assertion, nine times out of ten I think only of the shortest and quickest transfer of that five dollars from your pocket to mine; and whatever the means I employ, if I succeed, society will applaud me and I will con- gratulate myself on being a courageous and high spirited man. But in any scheme of assertion that I adopt it is even more important to you that you shall voluntarily and freely concede my claim and hand out the five dollars than it is to me that I shall receive my own. I had better assert my right to-day, and if need be wait ten years for my money, if at the close of that time I can have it freely conceded by you, than to wrest the THE DOCTRINE OF RIGHTS 155 five dollars from you now by force, trickery or law, and leave you feeling (however erroneously) that you have been wronged by me. Each one must determine, and that at his own risk, how he will assert his rights. We only claim two things: i. He must assert them. 2. Any special scheme of assertion which he may adopt must take into account, not alone the possibility of securing possession of that which is his own, but also the effect to be produced upon the character of his neighbor who for the time is withholding his right. We will consider in order a man's right to life, liberty, property and reputation, (i) The right to life. Corre- sponding to a man's right to live is his duty to let his neighbor live. We have heard of certain inalienable rights, among which are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. A criticism has been made on the use of the word "inalienable"; there are no such rights as the etymology of that word would indicate. Its use by the framers of the Declaration of Independence was a rhetorical device to express the very sacred character of those rights to secure which "governments are instituted among men." Their enumeration of the right to life first among them, accords with the high place assigned to this right among statesmen and philosophers generally. Co-extensive with a man's right to live is the duty of his neighbor to let him live. This does not affirm the right to live in any particular manner, or at the expense of another individual, nor of society. The saying that the world owes me a living is one of ambiguous import, especially when coupled with the further declaration "and I intend to have it." If the speaker mean that his being in the world is evidence that the Creator intended that he should live in it, and has somewhere made provision for his living, and that he proposes to find where, out of the provision which nature has made, he may obtain the things wherewith to live, the utterance becomes an expression of devout faith, and of manly self reliance. But as we usually hear it, it seems to mean that society owes me a living and if my fellow men do not keep me as I wish to be kept I propose to make trouble for 156 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE society. With that interpretation we dispute the saying. Society owes me a living? What have I, the average young man of twenty years, done to put society under obligation to me? Society, represented by my relatives, gave me a living freely when I was a kicking, squalling baby, and in return for that living I gave nothing, was capable of giving nothing but vexation and annoyance. Even in my youth and young man- hood it is doubtful whether I have done anything for which I have not already received a full equivalent. The world owes me a living? Wherefore? If in the past I have held such a conceit, let me now abandon it. In all probability the debt is the other way. The world does not owe any man a living until he has earned it quid pro quo. But there is one demand I may make of my fellow man, either as an individual or in society, and I can enforce the demand by an appeal to his consenting conscience: I may claim that he allow me to live: that he shall abstain from doing those things which will render my living more difficult. I may rightfully complain if those who have lived before me have destroyed all the fish of the waters or the game of the jungle; if they have wantonly felled the forest or exhausted the fertility of the soil. And I may complain of society if it has allowed a few of its favored members to hold for their simple pleasure or exclusive profit all the desirable portion of the surface of the earth so that I can find neither standing room, nor a place to raise potatoes. While the right to live does not imply any particular scale of convenience, or luxury, it does mean more than the simple possibility of existence. I may claim of my neighbor, and enforce by an appeal to his consenting conscience, that he shall not, by any system of caste or class distinction, throw any obstacle in the way of my attainment in the development of my faculties, of the largest life possible to me. (2) Another right is the free and unhindered possession and control of my own body. This is known as personal liberty. The same limitations apply here as elsewhere. It is not liberty in the control of my body to deprive my neighbor THE DOCTRINE OF RIGHTS 157 of the like privilege. My right to swing my arms must stop short of my neighbor's nose. Under the limitations common to the exercise of all rights belonging to man in society, we maintain that this is one of the most sacred of human rights. We admire the Scottish chieftain who .... round him drew his cloak. Folded his arms and thus he spoke, "My manor's halls and bowers shall still Be open at my sovereign's will; To each one whom he lists how e'er Unmeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my king's alone From turret to foundation stone; The hand of Douglass is his own." The civilization of the world has so advanced that few if any will advocate the custom of enslaving men, which is simply the process of depriving one's fellow man of the right to control his own body. But there remains in the ignoring the right, or in wanton trespass upon it, an amount of cruelty of which perhaps some have thought but little. If the story of the street and playground, in almost any of our towns, were told in full for but a single day there would be startling revelations of tyranny. There seems to be a time in the development of many a male specimen of the human animal, usually about the time he becomes aware that he has outgrown the liability to parental chastisement, when it is esteemed the special privilege of his station to assault and tease and bully, to slap and kick and cuff the little fellow who gets in his way. And unless he sheds blood or breaks bones he is indignant that any one should accuse him of wrong doing. He seems entirely unaware of the violence done to the self respect of his victim in the invasion of a sacred right which he was powerless to defend. Teachers of public schools need to look out for it. There are some youths who have not outgrown this period at the time they enter college, and the same spirit manifests itself in the instances of hazing which in the past have disgraced so many of our larger institutions of learning. Nor are older people free from blame in this respect. Nothing is more common than 1 58 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE for the visitor in a home to select a bright little one, pull his hair, twitch his ears, or punch his ribs "just for fun." It is time some one should speak in defense of outraged childhood. The conduct is no less cruel because it is free from malice. The right of the child to the use of his own body is as sacred as that of the adult. We restrain the personal liberty of the adult when necessary for his own protection or that of another and only a like necessity will justify the like interference with the same right of the child. (3) We next consider the right of holding property. We use the word property, not in its technical and legal sense, but in the common acceptation of the term as a collective word to designate material goods. By his nature man is fitted to own property. He has a natural craving which finds satis- faction in proprietorship. The writer knew two children who resembled each other so completely that only their most intimate friends could distinguish one from the other. Their parents treated them alike. The toys and clothes procured for them were just as much alike as possible. And yet those children on receiving gifts apparently indistinguishable would look up some distinction whereby one might be known from the other. When Jennie sits down in Nettie's chair, there is no reason why Nettie might not with equal comfort sit in Jennie's. But she wants her own and claims it with such vehemence that mother is brought on the scene, when she triumphantly exhibits a little knot about the size of a dime in the upturned bottom of the chair by which they had" agreed that one should be known from the other. What was this but the instinct for proprietorship revealing itself, increased we admit by a considerable amount of infantile perversity. The use of this propensity in the human constitution is to enable man to provide for the satisfaction of his wants beyond the immediate present. Something analogous to it and serving a similar purpose is found in the hoarding impulses of some of the lower orders. Like all other impulses which are common to man and the brute this craving is to be subjected to rational control, and exercised in conformity with the purpose for which THE DOCTRINE OF RIGHTS 159 it is given. It should be exercised under such limitations that the like right of one's neighbor may have equal recognition. Of such restraints and limitations men are impatient. Carlisle says that "all the upholsterers and confectioners in Europe could not make one shoeblack happy for more than an hour or two. Try him with one-half of God's universe and forthwith he sets to quarreling with the proprietor of the other half and declares himself the most maltreated of men." This would only show the discontent and dishonesty of the shoeblack. We affirm of him that he is capable, with much smaller pos- session than that supposed, of exhibiting a considerable degree of contentment; of distinguishing "mine and thine," and of learning to respect you in the one even as he defends himself in the other. This craving of men for material possessions has been the occasion of the making and administration of a large portion of the civil law. From this some have said that the right of private property is created by the civil law. The statement, though true of the civil right, is incorrect as to the moral claim. These two things should be clearly distin- guished from each other. The civil law in theory seeks to ascertain the moral claim, and to define the civil right of holding property in accordance therewith, but the moral claim it does not and cannot create. If the right does not exist prior to the act of the lawmaker, it is doubtful whether it has any foundation in justice afterwards. Law may declare what the right is in any particular, but the right itself it cannot create. Unless the fish I have caught or the grain I have raised is already mine in a sense that it is not my neighbor's, the lawmaker is guilty of robbery in protecting me in its exclusive enjoyment. Most men will agree that it is the duty of the lawmaker to ascertain as nearly as he can that which is just and make his deliverances accordingly. In the degree to which he may be able to realize this ideal will he merit the favorable judgment of posterity. The ethical basis of ownership is human effort expended on natural agents. The labor leaders are right in their principle, though sometimes in error in its application, when they affirm 160 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE that each man is entitled to that which his labor produces. In primitive society, while natural agents were abundant and free, and industry was individualistic, the application of our principle would seem to have been a simple matter. But in the complex adjustments and mal-adjustments of our modern industrial life the practical difficulty is to ascertain just what each one by toil of hand or brain has produced. The system of free (?) contract has superseded everything else in industry. A man receives what he has agreed to render service for. Unhappily few men when making bargains think of the equitable principle we have announced. The man who wants more than he earns is dishonest as sin. Yet few men in the market are content with what they contribute to production. The practical outcome is that the rewards of industry are won by skill in bargaining rather than by efficiency in producing. Few will contend that the present distribution of the increment of industry is at all equitable. But little attention is given to our principle of equitable ownership, and many will insist that it is impossible of application. Nevertheless we believe it the proper thing to teach, and that the adjustments of the future will not be as far from equity if we keep this principle in mind as they will be if we throw equity to the winds. CHAPTER IX THE DOCTRINE OF RIGHTS CONTINUED IN asserting most confidently a man's moral right to be allowed to acquire and hold property we have said nothing of the extent of the holding, and but little of the manner of the acquisi- tion. Of course there are limitations to the moral claim to property, and the legislator will take knowledge of the fact, but at best his work is likely to be but an approximation to justice. We have left behind us that law of the human jungle : "Let him take who can, and let him keep who is able." The civil law will not recognize any right to things wrested from another by superior physical force, but as we have seen it does protect a man in the possession of property secured by extra skill in bargaining. Not because the moral claim is one whit better in one case than in the other, but because of the difficulty of finding and enforcing appropriate legislation. It has usually been taken for granted that a man's right to acquire immense wealth was unlimited that there was no evil in simple bigness of possession. There may not be or there may be. There is significance in the phrase coined some years since, " predatory wealth." When the simple bigness of one man's possession interferes with the possibility of another man acquiring a little, it becomes predatory and the man has no moral claim to it however difficult it may be to frame a law to fit the case. If the law protects a man in the making and holding more than his living, he has a duty to make his possession a social benefit. Some years since a great economist said: "If men of wealth do not learn to use their property for the benefit of society, the time will come that society will own it for them." Similar statements brought the man into trouble, and we are sorry that we have not been able to find that sentence in the later editions of his works. 161 162 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE We should be open minded as to measures of social and economic reform, ready to approve them when they commend themselves to us as just. We must not be so pessimistic as to conclude that because no remedy for an evil is in sight, therefore none will ever be found. There are two time honored institutions which have con- tributed much to the development of civilization, yet out of which great evils have arisen. At present there is no scheme of reform which we can unreservedly commend, but as sure as there is one "who will reprove with equity for the meek of the earth" a remedy will be found for these abuses. We name (a) The unlimited private ownership of land with its unearned increment. One of the most fundamental of human neces- sities is the right of access to natural agents, the right to take fish from the water, game from the jungle and to raise food from the soil. To be allowed so to do is a moral claim. You can enforce it by an appeal to the consenting conscience of your fellow man. It is so reasonable and apparent that he can no more dispute it than he can deny your right to breathe the air of heaven. But grant this right in the abstract and still you have said nothing as to the particular portion of the soil which one may till. Since two persons cannot occupy the same portion, a partition into plots is a reasonable and necessary procedure. Experience shows permanence of tenure to be conducive to the highest productiveness. In both the James- town and the Plymouth colony, collective ownership was tried and early abandoned. We may reasonably suppose that private ownership of land arose in like manner in every civilized state. No one appears wronged. Did one man want another's plot? Any one of fifty equally good ones were to be had for the taking. A hundred years pass. The wilderness in the immediate vicinity has all been appropriated. What of it? "Go west, young man, and grow up with the country." Another century passes and there is no longer any west to go to. Now the young man must buy a farm near the ances- tral home. But there he strikes a difficulty. The land has risen in value. It will require the toil of a lifetime to purchase THE DOCTRINE OF RIGHTS 163 the foothold on the soil which his grandfather received for the asking. The neighborhood may be a more pleasant place to live in (or it may not) but as an agent of production the land is no better now than it was then. We are all familiar with cases where fortunes have been made in the rise in land values without the owners turning a hand to increase the utility of their holdings. Stand up and answer me ye who "join house to house and lay field to field till there be no place in the midst of the earth." By whose authority do the men of one generation cut off one-half of the men of the next generation from their heritage in God Almighty's fertile soil? Land owners hold the legal title to their lands. The law gives them the civil right to all the increase in their value; but have they any moral claim to any but a small part of it? Each of a thousand men in the neighborhood has contributed to the worth of that land as much as has the owner. Society allows those who hold the title to keep it all, because no one knows how to distribute that increment. Meanwhile the children of the laborer find no rest for the soles of their feet. There is no soil from which they may raise their food. They can live only by selling their labor in the market, (b) And here we strike our second time-honored institution The Right of Private Contract. The young man cut off from access to the soil offers himself to work for wages; sometimes successfully; again he stands not only all the day, but many days idle "because no man hath hired him." No man is compelled to hire him and nothing but infinite wisdom could find the man who ought to hire him. But depend upon it; a system under which he is denied the right to an acre of land on which to " raise his potatoes" cannot endure forever. There was deep philos- ophy in the saying of the labor leader (however wrong and brutal his application of it) when he declared that "every man has a right to his job." So we say, however hoary with age, however revered by the sage, this right of private contract may be, every man willing to work has a moral claim on his fellow man in society to be allowed somewhere, something to do. He has a right to a job, and society must help him to find it. 164 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE (4) One more right remains to be considered. A man has a right to be allowed to enjoy the good name which he has honestly won for himself among his fellows. He has a right to his reputation. There are cases, and many of them, where this has a worth which can be measured in money. But aside from all considerations of that character, the approbation of one's friends and the respect of his neighbors is itself a good of a high order. We do not say that it is the highest. A man's character is what he is, his reputation is only what his neighbors think he is. As a good it must be ranked lower than the other but is not to be despised. We shall say more of it in another place; here we only call attention to the existence of the right of one to his reputation, and to the importance of treating his own good name with proper consideration. It is one error to so overestimate reputation that one will sacrifice character to preserve it, another is to esteem it of small account. When we hear young people say: "I don't care what people think of me," we hope they are not speaking truthfully. Bad as is the falsehood, they may repent of it and redeem them- selves. But if it is really true, there is revealed a depth of perversity, such that it is doubtful whether any reforming agency can find anything in them to work upon. We have known some young men (and we regret to say young women also) who took delight in trampling under foot those con- ventionalities of society which are supposed to be signs of good morals and correct taste. In another place we will speak of the duty of putting the best possible construction on the conduct of our fellows, but one lives in the gaze of many who will not always be so considerate. We are considering here a man's right to his good name, and would warn young people that it is a great injustice to themselves to so act as to forfeit it. A man who is at heart and by training a gentle- man should remember that his fellow men have nothing but his conduct by which to judge his character. He does himself a great injustice when he acts like a "rowdy." If he does so there is no one but himself to blame when his neighbors think him one and treat him accordingly. CHAPTER X DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN IT has been held by moralists generally that all the duties which a man owes to his fellow man are comprehended in one word: benevolence. This is true if we remember that benevo- lence has an active significance. To understand the word as simply well-wishing and then attempt to include in it all our duties to our fellows would be to relieve men of a large part of their obligations. It would justify the priest and the Levite in beholding the wounded man and passing by on the other side. It would allow me to feed the hungry and clothe the naked by simply saying "Be thou warmed," or "be thou fed." We have observed heretofore that little credit can be given for correct feeling unless it issues in appropriate willing and doing. No objection can be made to considering benevolence the sum of this division of human duties if we translate the word benevo- lence, good-willing instead of good-wishing. This will imply that we not only in a general way wish good for our .neighbor but that we energetically will it for him. And what is the good that I shall will choose for my neighbor? The answer is found in our common nature. Whatever would be good for me (not always what I might wish) will be good for him. There was profound philosophy in the saying of Jesus: "Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them." The rule however is often misquoted, for example: "Do to every man that which if you were he and in his place you would wish done to you." Well if I were he and in his place my wishes would be just what his are; so we have the rule reduced to the senseless direction: do to every man just what he wishes you to do. But the maxim is not do what ye would wish, but what ye would that men should do unto you. The standpoint of condition is indeed that of my neigh- 165 166 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE bor; the standpoint of judgment is my own present intelligent perception of that which would be good for me in that condition. The reasonableness of this interpretation may be seen by testing it in two cases in which the golden rule has been declared inapplicable. I am passing your house and see a burglar who has entered in your absence, packed your valuables in his suit case and is leaving with his plunder. I am about to call the police, when I remember the golden rule. No question about it, were I that thief and in his place and he in mine, I would wish him to give me time to make my escape before giving the alarm. Moral teachers generally reply that cer- tainly you, the owner of the house, are as much entitled to consideration as the thief, and that if I were the owner of the house and in his place I would wish the thief arrested and my property restored. This is a good example of common sense asserting itself in the interest of good morals against theoretic moralizing. Our golden rule, however, with such an interpre- tation is found to be no rule at all in practical affairs. I want a rule that will take in my duty to the thief as well as to the owner of the house. Take another example: See that lunatic struggling with his guard, being borne away to the asylum. We all know what he wishes; and were I insane and in his place I would wish just as he does. Shall I treat him accord- ingly? Not at all. Has our golden rule then any application? Most certainly. How do we interpret it? Thus: As a sane man now I am capable of choosing the kind of treatment that which from my present standpoint of sane judgment, I would that men should give to me were I in that sad condition. We believe this to be the true and consistent interpretation of the rule. It is sane and safe, accords with a sound philosophy and leaves no accommodation necessary to make our golden rule universal in its application. We said that there is an active and a passive benevolence. One consists in doing no harm, the other in doing all possible good. Passive benevolence relates chiefly to my regard for my neighbor's rights and may be treated under two heads: justice and veracity. Active benevolence, appropriately termed DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN 167 beneficence or good doing, will vary in content; to-day it tears a thief away from his home and shuts him up in prison; to-morrow it feeds and clothes his family. Some have objected to having what thus seems a variable code and would insist that only a list of activities always pleasant to the recipient should be called beneficent. Perhaps such a code might be possible for angels; among men it would work as much evil as good. Kant affirmed that there is nothing universally good but the good will. The good will is the constant in the moral equation of human life. We begin our discussion of the specific duties man owes his fellow with justice. There is reason in the even balance representing justice in so many countries and through so many ages. It implies equality of right and duties, that whatever rights I claim for myself I concede freely to another. Justice may have respect to my neighbor's body, his property or his reputation. As we have seen, his rights lie in these three fields. But little further need be said of justice as regards the body of one's neighbor. With the abolition of slavery in all civilized countries there is one chapter in moral science that is well nigh obsolete. And yet it is claimed that some large employers to-day deliberately plan to keep their employees face to face with immediate want that they more easily may command their services. If this be done it is a gross injustice of the same moral turpitude as the institution of slavery. Justice as regards his neighbor's property is known as honesty. It is no small thing to be a strictly honest man. Absolute honesty essays to keep every promise, gives sixteen ounces to the pound, thirty-six inches to the yard, and pays one hundred cents on the dollar. The essence of all dishonesty is in the attempt to get something for nothing. It matters not at all whether this attempt is made by "the deceitful balances," or by false representations of goods, by passing counterfeit coin, by shuffling the cards or by cornering the market, it is all the same. Whoever wishes a good from his fellow without rendering an equal one in return is not honest at heart. Some one has truly said that unequal is the equivalent i68 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE of inequity and inequity equals iniquity. In this connection we would quote Professor Wright of the Iowa Teachers College who says: "Graft is the process of getting something for nothing by conventionally respectable methods." It is perhaps more difficult to do justice to my neighbor as regards his reputation than with respect to his earthly posses- sions. In general it may be said that justice will require that I shall be careful to form of him as favorable an opinion as his conduct will warrant. He has no right to claim, like a certain character in fiction, "Think of me only at my best," but he has a right to say like Cromwell "paint me as I am." It may be well for us to remember that probably not more than one-half of our estimate of the character of our fellows is made on the basis of their conduct. The other half grows out of our personal likes and dislikes in short, out of what has been called our "constitutional prejudices." Further it is only justice that I leave my neighbor to enjoy the good name among men which he has been able to secure. I know only one exception to the rule: that is where exposure is necessary to protect innocent parties from the effect of mis- placed confidence. Large numbers of people are very careless about their treatment of this right. He who would not for his right arm cheat even his enemy out of a cent feels that to damage, by the curl of the lip, by covert insinuation or the word of contempt, the good repute of the object of his dislike, if it can be done by any means except downright falsehood, is a legitimate procedure. Compared with such conduct the Indian who burns your barn or runs off your stock does a slight injury. There is one class of persons who especially suffer from this practice. We refer to those who are making an honest effort to reform after some lapse from honesty or chastity. Nothing said here is in advocacy of the shielding of a villain, but it is our duty to allow our neighbor to retrieve his reputation if he seems disposed to do so by a straightforward life. Let us suppose a case : There is living in our neighborhood a man who came here ten years ago; he has lived that ten years a life of absolute integrity, he enjoys the confidence of DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN 169 the entire community. On every occasion of testing he has shown himself a man. But his reputation is only ten years old. No one knows his previous life; he has never talked about it has lived strictly in the present. By-and-by it transpires that some one accidentally learns that, when ten years ago he came and hired by the month to Squire A, he was just out of the penitentiary. We all know how that report will fly. The motive usually assigned for such gossip is the love of truth. The author holds no weak theory about a man's obligation to tell the truth, when he speaks at all. But there are more facts in the world than any one man can speak of in his lifetime. Moreover some facts are of more importance than others. One thing these scandal mongers forget. With the fact of this man's two years in prison they cover up the larger fact of his ten years of honest living. After studying the motives of those who thus "take up a reproach against their neighbor," we are forced to conclude that the plea of love of truth is often insincere. The source of the whole matter would seem to be in intellectual vanity the desire to make a reputation for superior discernment in being able to nose out something which no one else has scented. We next consider the duty of veracity. The constitution of nature is a lesson in truth telling. The meaning of natural law (so called) is that we can depend on the uniformity of nature. We have learned that water runs down hill. On no compulsion must it; but depending on it we drain the swamp and tunnel the mountain. We have observed the return of the seasons, and in the very midst of winter prepare for return- ing spring, confident that "seed time and harvest will not fail." This assumption of the uniformity of nature is at the base of all induction. Science would be an impossibility were it not that, as one has said, "Nature is an honest witness, and to the proper question will give a truthful answer." Man feels himself made to learn the truth, attempts to learn the truth, and is disappointed and disgusted when he finds that he has deceived himself or has been deceived by others. A child has been called "a complex of interrogation points"; he i;o STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE expects to learn the truth, until he finds that he has been deceived. Every society of men assumes some regard for truth among its members. Even if its object is fraud and robbery it must apply the law of veracity within its own organi- zation. This fact has given rise to the proverb that " there is honor among thieves." The time when men left off to build a tower because all at once they were unable to understand each other's speech has become a proverb for confusion, but if in society to-night all regard for truth should perish so that to- morrow morning men would lie as readily as they would tell the truth there would be a scene that would out-babel Babel. It would indeed be " confusion worse confounded." Not only do men expect the truth of their fellows but they prefer to tell the truth themselves. The great amount of falsehood in the world shows the weakness of men rather than their menda- ciousness. It is not that they love truth less but that they love something else more. It is indeed a shame that so many men will lie under such small pressure, but every court of justice assumes that human testimony can be trusted that men prefer to tell the truth and will do so in the absence of a motive to tell a lie. If you find a man out of whose soul all love of truth has departed, so that he not only will lie but that he prefers a lie for its own sake, you have a being, humanly speaking, lost beyond redemption. Such a one would justify the hyperbole in an attorney's denunciation of a certain witness that "he would tell a lie on time when he might speak the truth for cash." We propose this statement of the law of veracity: When- ever a man professes to give information to a moral person, such information must be truthful. We have worded this statement carefully. We say when a man professes to give information; for we concede that there are circumstances when it is a man's duty to refuse to give information. We say "to a moral person," for no one thinks of any transgression of the law of veracity in the use of strategy in dealing with the brute. And when we condemn deceit in the management of the maniac, it is rather on account of future complications which may DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN 171 arise than from any supposed guilt incurred in deceiving him. We say "when any one professes to impart information" '; for we can make no distinction between "lies spoken and lies told." If there are those who insist on an ideal which demands telling the truth in dealing with the brute, we will not argue that question with them. We are willing that they should adopt that ideal for themselves after some other things are conceded. Our anxiety is not that men shall feel at liberty to lie to the brute, but that they shall not feel at liberty to lie to their fellow men. The certainty of the law in a limited sphere is more important than its extent over vast realms of being. A sense of obligation which forbids deceiving my fellow man for any selfish advantage will mark a more highly developed character than will the admittance of the brute and the maniac to an equal claim with men for the truth. If I deal with my neighbor half the day and with a pig the other half it is better that I tell the truth all the time to my neighbor though I deceive the pig every time, rather than that I tell the truth only half the time to each. In regard to the general doctrine of veracity there is no question among moralists. The difficulties have arisen over suggested exceptions to the rule. The query has been raised whether a man is ever justified in telling a lie. The question is seldom a practical one. As usually presented there is sup- posed some extreme case of human suffering or difficulty, and the questioner will turn on me with: "Now, sir, in that case what would you do?" This is the argumentum ad hominem, which may indeed be properly employed to silence a contentious and insincere disputant, but is certainly not conclusive in serious scientific inquiry. It may be demurred, "Well, what of it? Suppose I own that probably I would lie. I have sometimes done wrong, and might do so again." If, however, I postpone my falsehood until such cases as the supposed ones occur I am likely to go through life a truthful man. Moralists would not so persistently have held to the absolute universality of the rule had they apprehended that only such cases as the supposed ones would find refuge under the exception. There 172 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE is this much of sound reason in the plea of those who contend for some exceptions to the rule of veracity. The well being of some moral person is the end of truth telling. We cannot conceive of a duty which is not related to the good of some one. It is a question whether there is such a thing as a duty to "tell the truth for the sake of the truth." This does not concede that a man is at liberty to lie because he cannot see the good to be effected by the truth, or because he does see some inconveniences resulting from telling it; perhaps also he cannot see the remote but possibly momentous consequences of telling a lie. It is a serious matter to weigh simply the consequences that are in sight, and to determine that veracity may be set aside and a lie told for the end that some good may follow. It is no proof of heroism for us in these calm and quiet days of peace to denounce those who in sore straits have spoken falsely, but it is well to remember that the world's heroes have been men who would not lie to secure any advantage. Of the cases sometimes urged as exceptions to the rule of veracity some clearly lie outside the scope of the law as we have formulated it. i. The sports of childhood: In many of these the clearly recognized object is the sharpening of each other's wits by the tests of skill that are involved. It is clearly understood that by varied feints and passes one will mislead the other if he can. It was one of the conditions of the game understood before it was begun. Each accepted the situation and told the other to do his best (or worst) and neither can claim that he has been deceived. 2. The maneuvers of a commander in war which are made with the expectation that they will mislead the enemy are clearly outside the scope of our rule. When men start out to play the grim game of war, they do not profess to give information to each other. On the other hand each does profess to be doing his best to lure the other to his destruction. War is an abnormal state of affairs. Its ethics (both sides being considered) has never been written. General Sherman said "War is hell," and he certainly knew its character. The con- science of Christendom sorely needs toning up as to the mon- DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN 173 strosity of war. There never was a war in the inception of which some one had not been fearfully guilty. There ought to be cultivated among Christian people a sentiment which would make war between civilized nations an impossibility. Most wars could be avoided, but if the time comes as indeed it may through the ruthless attack of one party, that one group of men are justified in killing another group, it would seem strange to insist that they were guilty of turpitude in deceiving them. If I so act as indeed I may toward my fellow that I forfeit my right to life, it would seem strange to insist that I still have the right to the truth from him. War, how- ever, is so abnormal that men cannot continuously maintain the attitude of beasts toward each other. Formally or infor- mally every war has its truces in which enemies meet, not as beasts but as men. And here every honorable combatant recognizes the law of veracity in its full force. 3. In dealing with the insane our rule does not apply for the reason that the maniac is not a moral person. But this liberty has been badly abused. Injudicious attendants often tell lies to their charges when, in the long run, truth would serve their purpose better. On the simple ground of expediency some of the best alienists are accustomed to say to their assistants, "Do not deceive a patient." Some teachers have proposed to limit the application of the law of veracity to the cases where the questioner has the right to the information he seeks. There is a difficulty here. Not always but often it is an open question as to the inter- rogator's right to the truth, and it is surely a grave assumption that pending that decision I have a right to lie to him. The difficulty is best solved by simply closing the lips and refusing to testify. Indeed a large number of those cases where false- hood is generally condoned are effectually met in the exercise of what Dr. Lieber has aptly called "the liberty of silence." It may be contended that such a refusal would put the officious questioner in possession of the truth to which he has no right. But his supposed knowledge is an inference from your silence, which may have more than one reason, and inferences are like 174 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE some kinds of freight on the railroads, " taken at the owner's risk." When I "simply refuse to be interviewed," I certainly am not responsible for the questioner's inferences, but I clearly am responsible if, consenting to the interview and professing to give information, I utter a falsehood. Against several common evasions of the law of veracity we must raise a protest: i. The practice of deceiving the sick. Unless delirious the sick man is a moral person and of all persons he has a right to know the truth. No case is so fre- quently urged as an exception to the law of veracity as this, and it is admitted that no other presents so plausible an appear- ance. We all know the importance in some stages of disease of keeping the patient in a tranquil state of mind, and it is not uncommon to censure the candid nurse or physician for the evil results following a truthful utterance. It will be observed that it is a case of an appeal to consequences. Conceding the legitimacy of such an appeal we insist that before setting the law of veracity aside, one should know with reasonable cer- tainty all the consequences not alone of telling the truth or of refusing to give information now, but also the consequences near and remote of the proposed falsehood. There will be other sick people; perhaps some of those who now observe the treatment of this case. This man may recover, and be sick again, and when he is told the truth he may not believe it. 2. The preservation of one's reputation is not a sufficient reason for resorting to falsehood. The story of George Washington and his little hatchet is no doubt apocryphal, but it has strengthened the moral fiber of many a tempted youth. Would that a like service might be rendered to all "grown ups." The man with a reputation fortified by falsehood suffers in two respects: There is ever before him the fear that "the truth will out." "A lie cannot live forever." Worse still he has preserved his reputation at the expense of his own self respect. He must ever hear the voice of Holmes' "other fellow" saying, "You are a sneak." 3. The law of veracity may not be set aside for any amount of financial gain. Perhaps half of the false- hood in the world has no higher justification than this. The DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN 175 susceptibility of men to this temptation gave rise to the saying that every man has his price. It is not true. There are thousands of men whom no financial consideration can at all move to turn aside from adherence to the truth. 4. A man has no right to lie in order to promote a good cause. No more mischievous application of the maxim that "the end justifies the means" was ever made than this. Both in Romanist and Protestant communions men have "done evil that good may come." Against it we would interpose the startling statement that one has no right to lie even for what seems to him the prospect of saving a soul. The man may lose his own soul and yet fail to accomplish the good end sought. His conduct shows a surprising lack of faith in those unseen forces in the universe and above the universe which make for righteousness. Surely He who said, "To this end was I born and for this cause came I into the world that I might bear witness unto the truth," never intended that one of his servants should help him by treason to the cause for which He gave Himself. A closing word regarding our formulation of the rule: We have seen that the difficulties in applying the law of veracity lay not in the general acceptance of the duty of truthfulness, but in certain exceptional cases. We have tried to formulate a rule which would be consistent with the solution of those cases where "common sense" would say that a revelation of the truth should not be made. Admitting that our rule does leave outside its scope a great number of those cases in which difficulty has been found, we claim that most of such cases can be solved by the application of the "liberty of silence." We believe the rule does take within its scope and clearly forbid ninety-nine per cent of the falsehood of the world. We conclude by stating again our law: Whenever a man professes to give information to a moral person, such information must be truthful. CHAPTER XI DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN CONTINUED Beneficence JUSTICE and Veracity are only a part of benevolence. They are passive virtues only. In their exercise a man simply refrains from doing evil. Benevolence good- willing must issue in something active, in beneficence good-doing. We hold that a man is prompted to good-doing by his natural sympathies. Whenever he reflects that his fellow man is a being with a nature like his own he is prompted to make his sympathetic impulses permanent and practical by activities of will. These sympathies are not selfish. A man is as truly (though not so forcefully) impelled to seek the good of his neighbor as to seek his own. There have been moralists who have attempted to resolve every generous impulse into selfish- ness or at best into a refined self-love. It has been found that generous feelings are pleasant and that generous deeds are followed by pleasant reflections and self approval. Therefore it is claimed that the man was selfish in doing these things for the pleasantly affected sensibilities. But what shall we say of the constitution of that nature which was capable of being pleasantly affected by self-forgetful and self-denying acts? An anecdote of Lincoln is used in this connection. He once dismounted and walked back forty rods through the mud to help out a pig caught in the fence, saying that the thought of the creature's suffering was distressing to him. It is argued that his conduct was selfish because he sought relief from unpleasant feelings. But what shall we say of that nature which could not forget the suffering pig and was capable of being unpleasantly affected by it? If that were selfish, give us more of the Sfame kind. But it must be conceded that there is a considerable amount DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN 177 of self love that does seek to hide itself under a mask of gener- osity. What sacrifices some politicians are willing to make one in order to serve the dear people in Congress? We are told that in the beginning of the Christian era there were those who gave alms "to be seen of men." Paul tells us that in his time there were those who even preached Christ to gratify "envy and strife." It is well known that now there are some men who will build hospitals and endow colleges for the fame it brings them. Since so much of generous action has been found tainted with selfishness, some have jumped to the conclusion that it is all so. There is no more profitless exercise than trying to ferret out some sinister motive for the beneficent activities of men. There are those who seem to rival Satan in asking: "Doth Job fear God for nought?" No doubt the difficulty in settling the question of our own motives is often increased by the fact that generous conduct toward our neigh- bors is attended nearly or remotely with benefit to ourselves. We may frankly concede that an act which is of advantage to the doer as well as the recipient is more easily performed. Doubtless there was truth in the confession which a rustic once made to the author: "I do like to accommodate my neighbors when I can accommodate myself at the same time." But the question is not whether or not altruistic motives are sometimes reinforced by the egoistic, but whether the altruistic are possible independent of the other. If altruism in fact exist, it is independent. The same external act may be prompted by both classes of motives yet one not be evolved from the other. We believe this because: i. The two kinds of feeling as subjective experiences are so entirely unlike that it seems inconceivable that one should have grown out of the other. 2. Large numbers of men have at certain times in their lives done things in the service of their fellows for which no self interest of any kind could by any possibility be assigned as a motive. 3. There have been a few men and women of such absolute and transparent self forgetfulness that their altruism could not be seriously questioned. 4. Each one may assure himself of the truth by an appeal to his own consciousness. 178 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE If at this moment my conscious existence were to come to an end my very being be blotted out I do know that with my last expiring breath I would desire the well being of my race. Therefore, although not so generally apparent on the surface, we are warranted in concluding that altruism is as really a part of normal human nature as egoism. We will next consider the several forms of altruistic activity manifested in: i. The relief of physical wants. 2. The alleviation of a man's burdens through sympathy. 3. Dispelling human igno- rance. 4. Restraining and correcting or if possible preventing human vices. The relief of physical suffering is named first as being the most obvious form of beneficent action. That this is a duty will not be questioned by any one who at all admits the existence of obligation to altruistic effort. Of those philosophers who have gravely argued the impropriety of aiding the weak in their struggle for existence, it is to be remarked that generally their lives have been better than their theories. Constituted as we are, physical suffering must always strongly appeal to us, and he who in its presence feels no impulse to relieve it may well be ashamed. If such suffering always came upon a man by his own fault; if it were the transgressors alone; if the man could survive while the deep underlying cause of his misery were being reached, if these and perhaps fifty other "ifs" were met, we might then justify the indifference of those who would "shut up their tender heart of compassion." Until then the blessing of God and of good men will be upon those who deal their bread to the hungry. This is said in full acknowl- edgment that a man is bound to the use of discretion in the selection of the objects and the means of his charitable action. It is only contended that the suffering of the profligate and the tramp does call for relief in some manner, and whatever the appropriate remedy may be, the indifferent "don't care" and "good enough for him" is not the remedy. It may not always be best, when the tramp asks for bread to give him bread, neither is it clear that he should be given a stone. It is possible that the appropriate thing is a stone pile and a hammer, but DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN 179 he should not be sent away hungry. It may be conceded that much of our common alms-giving is misdirected, and that better means couid be devised for the relief of distress. This admission does not weaken in the least our contention that the relief of physical suffering has a very high place among the duties that a man owes to his fellow man. One reason for the prominence rightly given to this class of duties is the imperative character of the wants that are involved. Some wants may be satisfied to-morrow, but the wounded Jew by the roadside needs help now. The demand for food and drink is properly considered not the highest of our wants. The satis- faction of eating and drinking is really a lower good, and yet it is so imperative that if the food supply in a city were shut off for forty-eight hours we would find other things largely for- gotten. The services in the churches would be dismissed, the schools would close, business would be suspended, and there would be just one pressing question: "Where can we get something to eat?" When young Copperfield presented himself dusty, footsore, weary, and hungry before his maiden aunt, she asked Mr. Dick: "What shall we do with him?" and received a very short answer in two injunctions: "wash him" and "feed him." All successful reformers take these wants into account. The Salvation Army understands not only that a hungry man cannot preach, but that you cannot preach to a hungry man. Our second class of duties to our fellows is comprehended in the word sympathy. The desire to relieve physical wants is also sometimes called sympathy, because we lack the proper English word for it. It is a feeling for or on account of, while sympathy, properly so called, is a feeling with. Not only do the two feelings differ as subjective experiences, but they are applicable to different classes of human beings. Man is not a solitary animal, he is a social being. There are large num- bers of men and women who are able and willing to carry their own burdens and expect to do so, without any material aid, but who do need, desire and long for the comfort that comes from knowing that "my neighbor takes some account of me"; 180 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE that "he sorrows when I sorrow" and "rejoices when I rejoice." There is unutterable loneliness in the cry of the ancient bard. "No man careth for my soul." The appropriate field for the manifestation of this sympathy is in what we know as "social life" sometimes called "society." The term is not very definite in its import, though wide in its application. It designates all those meetings and associa- tions of human beings, the purpose of which is the stimulus of friendly emotions among those associated. Social life includes many forms of association, the little child saying "Let's go play." Two housemaids exchanging gossip over the back fence; a company of loafers swapping coarse jokes around the stove in the corner grocery; all forms of "spreads," "parties," "receptions" up to those elaborate functions of the President of the United States. The theory that our social life as thus defined is a field for the alleviation of human suffering through sympathy may not agree with the usages of so-called "society." Most people seem to be "in society" for what they can get out of it; while with the above view the thought of each one would be: how much can I put into it? The occasions on which men and women meet and mingle socially ought to leave each one a little stronger as well as lighter of heart than when he came. Among the chapters of MORAL SCIENCE which are yet to be written there is one on this theme, but the author of this work will not attempt it. Evidently the man who would write adequately of "social life" as it ought to be, should know social life as it is. He should be a moral philosopher and also a so-called "society man." Unfortunately, Ward McAllister's "four hundred" are not given to the study of moral science; and in general moral philosophers are not "society men." We only venture a very few observations. We have said that there has been a general failure to apprehend the utility of social life as affording a field for the exercise of sympathy. An apprehension of the possibilities here would modify many things. Social lines of cleavage would be re- adjusted. We are not prepared to say how they would be drawn; perhaps there would be none except on the basis of character. I DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN 181 Certainly there would not be, as now, hard and fast lines on the basis of wealth and culture. There is one utterance of Jesus that in this connection should be pondered: " When thou makest a dinner or a supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbors; lest they also bid thee again and a recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind; and thou shalt be blessed; for they cannot recom- pense thee; for thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just." Luke xiv 113-14. No doubt this is one of those sayings of which it is true that "the letter killeth" but "the spirit [of it] giveth life." We must find what that spirit requires of us in the readjustment of our social life. In view of this broad conception of the end of "society" it is evidently a mistake to prolong social functions until they produce weariness of body or mind. There is cause for appre- hension as we see growing up in our once simple Western life, the custom of prolonging the hours of festivity. That was a wise man who once wrote: "Woe unto thee, O land, when thy king is a child, and thy princes eat in the morning [i.e., after midnight] ; happy art thou, O land, when thy king is the son of nobles, and thy princes eat in due season for strength and not for drunkenness." Ecclesiastes x:i6-i7. Modern society has a prohibition expressed usually in the saying: "Do not talk shop" which unless observed in modera- tion tends to frustrate the purpose of our association. Your neighbor really wants to talk shop; he can talk shop better than anything else. His shop is hateful to him only because he has to work it alone. Let him feel that you are interested in him and his work and straightway his shop is transfigured before him. It is usually safe to talk "the other fellow's shop." An effort to divert and amuse can easily be overdone. Is it not a reflection on the intelligence of your guests to assume that they must be provided with some diversion to prevent them growing weary of one another's company? We would not ignore the good there is in a hearty laugh, but we have caused 182 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE him for a moment only to forget his burden. He has to take it up again and it is as heavy as ever. To most men there is more help that abides in the cordial handshake, and the really sincere inquiry about his welfare than in the best joke that can be repeated to him. Beneficent action finds a third field in the work of dispell- ing human ignorance, and supplying the minds of men with a knowledge of truth. Every man who makes a useful discovery owes it to the world to make it known. Every one who dis- covers a truth which may aid in the satisfaction of human wants should feel in duty bound to give it to the world. There is much to be said against the effort to capitalize brains by guarding secret processes in industry. The good man who con- ceives a great thought is usually glad to make it known. Great moralists have been great teachers from the days of Socrates to the days of Mark Hopkins. Not many persons, however, can hope to become dis- coverers of new and important truths. Far the greater portion of beneficent action of the sort we are considering will consist in furnishing opportunity for all who will to acquire that knowledge which has already become the heritage of the race. This field of beneficent action widens and lengthens with each generation. The things which a man needs to know, which it would be greatly to his advantage to know, become more numerous with each succeeding age. The stock of "innate ideas "(?) has received no perceptible addition within the historic period. The babe born in America last night is just as ignorant as was any one of his ancestors born in one of the caves of prehistoric Britain or Germany, while the amount which it is important that he shall come to know in order that he may become a conventionally decent citizen is many fold greater. Every increase in knowledge increases the demand for knowl- edge. Besides the home we would name as the chief agencies for imparting information, the pulpit, the school, the press, and the lyceum. Without any discussion of the rules for the conduct of each of these institutions, attention is called to the fact that whoever enters for his life work any one of them DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN 183 accepts responsibility for a large measure of the sort of beneficent action now under consideration. But a large amount of teaching is done in a purely uncon- ventional manner. Whenever men are associated in any relation in business, industry, or social life, or even accidentally as in travel, they are likely in some measure to teach each the other. This is true even when there is no conscious effort to do so. Much more if there is rationally directed effort. It is a good rule of life to seek to learn something from every associate; the converse is equally good: if one has anything worth knowing, teach it to somebody. This does not necessi- tate that I assume an air of superior wisdom. Very often I may best accomplish what I purpose by assuming the attitude of a learner. But the child or the man whose opportunities have been less than mine should go from an hour's converse with me knowing something worth while, which he did not know before. The last form of beneficent action which we consider is the correction of human vices. The correction of men on occasion of their vicious conduct is usually delegated to the activity of the state, because the state can more efficiently do the work. But let it be remembered that the sources of every duty of the state are in individual duty. The state has no duties which individuals have not assigned it. The state can do no evil that some individuals are not responsible for. From the time that Moses slew the Egyptian down to the days of chivalry those who have stood for the defense of the weak have seen in this defense a duty to the individual only who had suffered wrong. Another idea has slowly been dawn- ing on us. A man breaks into a store and steals. Every one sees that we owe a duty to the merchant. That duty requires us to arrest and deal with the thief. It has not so generally been apprehended that the state owes that same duty to the thief himself. It may be profitable for us to consider the different motives which may prompt the punishment of a criminal. We have already noted that punishment of crime is older than the state. Indeed, had not men been accustomed 184 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE to punishing wrong doing before the state was instituted, it may be questioned whether the state would have so universally assumed that function. Two distinct questions present them- selves. We may ask historically, What motives have in the past prompted men to the punishment of evil doers? and what considerations will, at the bar of a good conscience, justify us in inflicting punishment on him? We would name first as inciting us to the punishment of the criminal the supposed turpitude of the offender, arousing in us the feeling of demerit; the feeling that ill doing deserves an ill return. We discussed the nature of this feeling sufficiently in our previous study. Our only purpose here is to consider its relation to the punish- ment of crime. This sense of demerit is an active impelling force, prompting to punishment. But there is nothing in it telling you how to do or when to stop. The ill desert of the criminal would seem to be a necessary condition, without which it would be improper to punish him at all, but it may be questioned whether the ill desert of the offender is alone suf- ficent to warrant the infliction of the punishment. Is it any- where made apparent that there is a moral necessity in the universe that each one must suffer the full extent of his ill deserts? And if there were who has pronounced on your com- petence or mine to weigh that ill desert, or has made us the executors of our own righteous but indignant judgment? The most that can be said is that in the presence of some imminent good the welfare of some sentient being demanding the punishment of the criminal; then only will the ill desert of the criminal justify his punishment and that only to the extent and in the manner necessary to secure that good. Let us look at the several goods to secure which punishment has been inflicted. We name as a very prominent one the satisfaction of the persons whom the evil doer has wronged. Compared with this the sense of the evil doer's ill desert has played in the past a small part in the administration of justice. It is not so much that the criminal has done evil, and so deserves to suffer as that he has injured me, and therefore I want to injure him, and while I am at it, a little more than he has injured me. DUTIES OF A MAN TO HIS FELLOW MAN 185 Discreditable as it is to human nature, such we must conclude was the state of the case when, on the organization of the state, society took over the administration of justice. The state now assumes to do that which the individual had been doing (and often overdoing) for himself. It is easy to see how in primitive judicial affairs the prominent idea would be that of rendering satisfaction to the party against whom the offense had been committed. In some cases this would seem appropriate. A man steals my goods and has them in his possession; to take them from him and restore them to me with a sufficient margin to "cover expenses" seems to commend itself to us as just and right. But there are other cases and aggravated ones which do not admit of so simple a solution. A man attacks me on the highway; robs me and takes my life. My wife wishes him punished; he is arrested. What shall be done with him? Ask her. "Hang him!" For what good? "He deserves to die. Life for life," she says. But that is not possible. You may take his life, but that will not bring back mine, nor lighten by one poor scruple my wife's crushing grief. The only satisfaction to her is that found in the grati- fication of revengeful hate. No, we must find some greater, some more rational good than is implied in "an eye for an eye" or we will have to let the most flagrant offenders go free. The next good adduced for the punishment of the criminal is the protection of society. The ill desert of the criminal being admitted this would seem to be sufficient reason, not otherwise. We would have no right to punish an innocent man, either for "the glory of God," or the protection of the members of the state. This protection of society may be either protection from this particular criminal who has learned that the way of the transgressor is hard, or it may be from other men of similar tendencies who it is hoped will profit by his example. Another good sought in the punishment of the evil doer, and we believe the very highest one, is the reformation of the criminal himself. It must be conceded that the protection of society cannot wait upon the reformation of the evil doer, hence there will be cases of punitive measures which will seem to have little relation to i86 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE reformation. Yet we hold that the desire to restore the criminal to society, transformed into a good citizen, is the very highest motive for subjecting him to discipline. The state which in any way protects itself in the punishment of the criminal has entered into partnership with an avenging angel. The state which protects itself by reforming the criminal has entered into unity with the tender heart of Jehovah. And here again the ill desert of the offender must be assumed, otherwise it might be difficult to justify our trespass upon his liberty, even for ' ' pedagogical purposes. ' ' It is to the everlasting glory of the Christian church that in the very darkest of the dark ages it introduced this idea into the discipline of the church from which in time it began to find its way into jurisprudence. True, not one churchman in a thousand saw it clearly. Most men, if at all, see it only dimly yet, but with the advance of that truth which has ages for its own more and more will the idea make itself felt both in legislative enactment and in judicial procedure. CHAPTER XII DUTIES TO GOD IN a previous chapter we observed that it is possible to consider all a man's duties to himself and to his neighbor to be in a secondary sense duties to God. If we conceive the relations of a man to his fellow to be a matter of concern to the Creator and that he has in any way expressed his will regarding them, then every duty which a man primarily owes to his neighbor is reinforced by his obligation on that point to God. Here originates our word Religion. It binds again by another bond that to which we were obligated before by another bond. But having classified duties with reference to the beings on whom the activities terminate, or to whom they are directed, our quest at this point is for those forms of obligated activity which are primarily duties to God. And here Ethics waits on Theology. What a man believes to be his duty to God will depend largely on his thought as to the kind of a being that God is. It must be conceded that the ordinary company of church goers is not as vitally interested in the consideration of this theme as was the congregation of fifty or a hundred years ago. When a gross materialistic philosophy held the minds of men enthralled; when most Christians believed in a Hades made of material burning brimstone, into which a vengeful Deity with inexpressible delight hurled human souls clothed in immortalized flesh, there to fry and broil eternally, then it was easy to interest men in the question of duties to God. Indeed the question as to how a man should treat his neighbor was a trifling one compared with the more absorbing one as to how he might secure the forbearance of this avenging God. But there have been changes in the thought, even of those who, like the author, do still believe in the possibility of the total, the irretrievable, the unspeakable, the irreversible, and i88 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE eternal ruin of the human spirit. We no longer understand that the anguish of a lost soul consists in the roasting of the flesh of the body. A more enlightened view of the character of the Deity has led us to believe that whatever that woe may be it is not of God's will but against his will that any human soul perishes. We believe these changes to be in the direction of a better understanding of the truth, and yet it must be conceded that one of their incidental effects has been to pro- duce in the minds of many men an utter indifference as to their duties to God. Because we are unable to describe in literal terms that for which Jesus used a metaphor, men have concluded that a life of rebellion against Eternal Love is not so very serious, and that to be a lost soul is not so very bad after all. Many men in the average Protestant congregation are in their practical theology not one whit different from the Congo negroes who laughed at the missionary for expecting them to worship a Deity who was not disposed to hurt anybody. The higher a man's conception of Deity, the more spiritualized is his worship, and the smaller is the place held by externals in his theopathic activities. Barbarous peoples lay great stress on elaborate ceremonials, and believing Deity to have wants like themselves are accustomed to make costly offerings of food and drink and clothing. In contrast with such grossness, the spirit of Hebrew theology found its highest expression when the Psalmist makes Jehovah to say: "I will take no bullock out of thy house nor he goat out of thy folds. For every beast of the forest is mine and the cattle upon a thousand hills If I were hungry I would not tell thee, for the world is mine and the fullness thereof. Will I eat the flesh of bulls or drink the blood of goats?" Ps. 1:9-14. If God is to be worshiped "with men's hands as though he needed any- thing," revelation must declare it. Human reason cannot discover it. Our closest thought will confirm us in the idea that external activities are not primarily God-directed. The ancient bard spoke wisely when he said: "Can a man be profitable unto God as he that is wise can be profitable unto himself? .... is it gain to him that thou makest thy ways DUTIES TO GOD 189 perfect?" Job 22:2-3. And again, "If thou be righteous what givest thou Him? or what receiveth He of thy hand? Thy wickedness may hurt a man as thou art and thy righteous- ness may profit the son of man." Job 36:6-7. It is difficult to make out a clear case of duty to God in external conduct, except in such action as is helpful to our neighbor. And yet, emphasize as much as we may a man's duties to his fellows, they do not exhaust the content of his duties to God. For though in man's external activities we may make a fruitles, search, the inner life of the soul is a field in which we will find several very important duties to God. A little study of some characteristics of our own nature would lead us to such a conclusion. There is no indication that the brute cares for anything but the external action of those whose lives touch his. With man it is different, and the higher we are in the scale of manhood the more importance we attach to what our neighbor thinks of us and how he feels toward us. There is one word that perhaps better than any other states the essence of the devotement of the devout soul. That word is "attitude." Would you inquire as to the measure in which any man discharges his duties toward God, ask this: "What is his attitude toward God?" The religious writers of the Hebrews seem to have apprehended this fact and have assumed it in such texts as these: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God." "Offer unto God thanksgiving." "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit," and "Walk humbly with thy God." The incompleteness of philanthropy considered as a duty to God will appear in a glance at the relation of fatherhood, under which figure not only Hebrew and Christian, but the best pagan thinkers, have spoken of the relation of God to men. No doubt every parent does desire that his children shall live in peace and good will with each other; but do we for one moment suppose that the yearnings of the father heart are content with that alone? Imagine a father saying to a son: "Now, John, the Jews, the Greeks, the Romans and the Chinese have said much about the duties of children to their parents. IQO STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE They said, 'Honor thy father and thy mother,' but we have outgrown all that. We wish you to understand that we need from you no outward service, and we claim no inward deference ; all that we desire of you is that you shall treat your brothers and sisters with appropriate consideration and affection. If you will only carefully see to it that you do that, we do not care in the least what you think of us or how you feel toward us." Would that be a normal or, in any sense, an admirable father? Do we worship a God like that? A thousand times, no! Listen to the voice of the old prophet as he puts into the mouth of Jehovah these words: "A son honoreth his father; .... If then I be a father where is my honor, saith the Lord of hosts, unto you O priests that despise my name? Your eyes shall see and ye shall say 'The Lord be magnified.'" Mai. 1:6. We shall not claim to give a complete enumeration of the feelings which are involved in a correct attitude of the soul toward the Creator. We will consider, however, the three named in our classification of the sensibilities as Pious Senti- ments. Where these three exist with sufficient intensity to materially affect the man's conduct, it may be said of that man that he "is not far from the kingdom of God." First among these sentiments is reverence. This is a feeling difficult of definition. Indeed we shall not attempt to define it, but shall try to get a view of its nature, by viewing it in its manifestations toward beings earthly and human. It differs from but is akin to the sentiment of awe which we feel in the presence of the grand, the stupendous, the sublime in nature. The poverty of the soul which knows it not is to be pitied. Reverence is awe plus something further. We feel awe in the presence of the cataract, the tornado, the earth- quake, but we do not revere them. Only persons can be the objects of reverence. In persons so revered we idealize what we conceive to be the highest virtues. We are familiar with the feeling in its exercise toward certain of our fellows. Some would name it as a common and appropriate sentiment toward our parents. Indeed it is appropriate, and common when we DUTIES TO GOD 191 have come to that appreciation of their virtues which only mature years can give us. Most persons experience the feeling in some other relations. It has been observed that usually a boy's first "love affair" is with a woman older than himself. Often, too, there "is no sentiment of love returned." It is a mistake to call it a "love affair," in the common acceptation of that term. Both the object and the subject of the experience may be of either sex, though it is true that the object of it is commonly a charming woman of about twenty-five. A family of children who had recognized the experience had coined a word to designate the objects of such "awe full" admiration and were accustomed to ask: "Who is your Long'y for?" In more mature years the same compound feeling of awe plus idealizing admiration manifests itself in our hero worship. It sometimes merits our contempt by being lavished on a very unworthy object, but the object is always conceived as worthy. Humanity is the richer because of the possibility of the feeling. Those who have visited Mount Vernon will remember that it was perfectly natural to remove one's hat as the grating was approached beyond which lay the remains of the "Father of his Country." This feeling of reverence will characterize the correct attitude of the human soul toward that Unseen Presence that all pervading, all comprehending, all enswathing Personal Power which we call GOD. Let it be remembered that whatever of merit we have thought we discerned in a fellow mortal which called out our reverence, is but the feeble reflection of the same glory in the Father of Spirits. "Out of Zion the perfection of beauty God hath shined." Religious teachers have sought to cultivate the sentiment of reverence by associating it with particular buildings, places, and times. We have no criticism of these pedagogical devices, if only it is recognized that they are pedagogical. They may accomplish a good purpose. In them there is a condescension to the capacity of the beings under instruction. In many things "we see through a glass darkly." In the middle ages the church sought to repress duels and private warfare between barbarous chieftains. The "Truce of God" seems to us a 192 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE mockery of the gospel of peace. But let us not be too severe on those old monks and bishops. It was not much, but it was something that those brutish men, steeped in lust and avarice and boiling with revenge, should be induced to wait, even a day, before cutting each other's throats. In the clearer light of our twentieth century civilization we are shocked at the inconsistency which felt no twinge of conscience in shedding man's blood on ordinary days but would not do it on a holy day. We do well to remember that this concession, inconsistent though it was, was a stepping stone to a higher civilization. When a boy has learned to feel that God is everywhere, when reverence for the Unseen Presence has become habitual with him, we may dispense with Holy Times, and consecrated places. But so long as he' thinks of God as a large man and fails to comprehend that "God is a Spirit," so long it will be helpful for him to acquire the habit of entering with muffled tread and downcast eyes the place appointed for worship. We would like a better way to train the youth, but have not yet heard of it, and the number of those in whom the sentiment of reverence is weak and needs cultivation is so great, and promises to remain so large, that for a long time those who seek to advance the Kingdom of God on earth are likely to have use for churches and altars for stately ritual and for Sabbath days. The next of the three sentiments to be considered is Grati- tude. This is a friendly feeling, evoked in the mind of an intelligent being toward the giver of a benefit. No one will question its being an appropriate feeling in the soul's attitude toward the Creator. We are able to study it as manifested toward human benefactors. It is more than a feeling of self congratulation over one's good fortune, though perhaps much that passes as gratitude is not much more than that. A six-year-old boy was trying to explain to a four-year-old sister the meaning of "Thank you," which they had been instructed to say on receiving a kindness from any one. Said he: "It means, I'm glad I've got it. If you've any more I'll take it." Many adults, in practice, show no higher conception. Real gratitude acknowledges my benefactor, my obligation to him, DUTIES TO GOD 193 and a solicitude for his interest. Most men are susceptible to it in their relations with each other. To be without it is considered reprehensible. To be insensible to it marks a brutish man anywhere. There are certain considerations which increase the obligation to gratitude, as: if the benefit is unmerited and unearned; if the need has been anticipated; if the benefit has been conferred unsolicited; if the benevolence of the benefactor is disinterested. All of these considerations combine to make man's obligation to gratitude to God of the most imperative character. For man's woeful failure in this regard some things may be said, not as excusing but as partly explaining: (a) Many of God's blessings to men are con- ditioned on efforts at appropriation on man's part. Since my effort in planting and cultivation is a sine qua non, in crop making, I take all the credit to myself. I forget the utter futility of all my efforts without God's natural agents with which to co-operate, (b) Men wake to consciousness enswathed in multiplied provisions for their well being. Because they cannot remember when God's care of them began, they take no account of it at all. (c) Many of the Creator's mercies are extended to all men alike. It seems that it would be easier to be grateful, if I could see myself a special favorite of the Almighty. We fail to recognize his goodness in blessings which he bestows on my neighbors as well. And yet we are taught to recognize it as the glory of Jehovah that "He maketh his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." But no one of these things nor all of them together is sufficient to explain what seems in so many cases a complete absence of grateful feeling to the Creator. Nor is the case made any better by adducing, as is sometimes done, that God is invisible to the eyes. For in numberless cases of "hero worship," men go wild in their expressions of gratitude to earthly bene- factors, generals and statesmen whom they have never seen. Indeed we are unable fully to account for the delinquency in question, except by calling in the old theory known in theology as Depravity. Call it what you will and account for it as 194 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE you may, men in general are not naturally disposed to friendli- ness with God. They are ungrateful to him, because that in their inmost souls they do not like God. Inverting the order in some of the phrases in Paul's celebrated indictment of human nature, we would say that "because they did not like to acknowledge God" they "became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened." "When they knew God they glorified him not as God, neither were thankful" In this connection we would call attention to this fact: in those transformations of character sometimes occurring among men and which are to be as seriously considered by the reflect- ing man as the cyclone, the earthquake or the growing blade in such transformations of character, gratitude to God is one of the earliest and most constant manifestations. The third of these pious sentiments is Penitence. We believe that for all men this is an appropriate feeling, because that so far as they are known to us, there are none who have not been to some degree transgressors of Divine law. The emotion is a complex one. Perhaps the most prominent element in it is the sense of self reproach. But it is more. Self reproach follows our sense of wrong doing even when our transgression has been against no one but ourselves. Penitence is self reproach with an added sense of shame in view of the offense given to a worthy intelligent being. Perhaps in our own experience we first become aware of it in our relation to our parents. We feel it when we reflect upon our ingratitude and wrong doing toward them. We recognize it as the fitting, the absolutely necessary condition for the restoration of normal, healthy, friendly relations between parties who have been estranged by the wrong doing of one of them. Suppose that in my intercourse with you I have done you an injustice. You have felt it and I know it. You may have ever so kind and forgiving a disposition. You may even feel that you would spare me the humiliation of an apology, but I know that I owe it to you. I will know myself condemned so long as I withold it. Perfectly friendly relations cannot exist between us until recognizing the turpitude of my offense, with shame I confess DUTIES TO GOD 195 it and bring forth "fruits meet for repentance." The same things are true in regard to man's relation to God. Here also we expect the "fruits of repentance" in a renewed life the normal and necessary result of Penitence, which is an inner, a psychic, experience. There is a common notion that the feeling of penitence is one becoming "the contrite sinner returning from his ways," but that after reconciliation it has no place in the life of the devout man. We believe this view to be erroneous. Since every recollection of ill-doing must be accompanied with regret, there is something of a feeling of penitence which will always be appropriate to the devout soul. The author feels that this survey of man's duties to God is incomplete. He purposely leaves it so. It will be remem- bered that we said that our view of our duties to God would be largely determined by what we thought of God's character. It was not our purpose to set forth here anything which might not be reasonably maintained without an appeal to Christian revelation. We assumed the power, wisdom, and beneficence of Deity. These things are reasonably inferred from the things we observe in the "constitution and course of nature." His power and wisdom, as another has said, "his eternal power and Godhead" are "understood by the things that are made." His beneficence is shown in that "He gave us fruitful seasons filling our hearts with joy and gladness." It will be observed in these discussions that when we have quoted the Christian scriptures, we have not appealed to them as authority, but have used them because they stated in better terms than we could otherwise command a conclusion at which we had other- wise arrived. This much we believe the thoughtful man of any race or time may find and will find about God, if he applies his mind to it, even without special revelation. And so finding he will be under obligation to render unto God reverence, gratitude, and penitence. But there are those of us who believe that God has supplemented the knowledge which lay within the range of the unassisted human intelligence by an authoritative revelation of himself in the person of Jesus 196 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE Christ. If Jesus of Nazareth was the revealer of God to man that he claimed to be; if, in his mission here, God has done for men what it is claimed that he has done; if in the life that he enjoins, there are for men the possibilities that he declares there are; then, indeed, there are reasons for love and trust that surpass any that can arise in the mind of one under the guidance of natural reason alone. Then indeed will God have a claim on the heart's supreme devotion. In the part of our work which follows, we will be seriously seeking the foundations of our faith, asking in all candor "is it true or not." We, there- fore, let it suffice at this time to have named Reverence, Grati- tude, and Penitence as duties owed to God by every man of every faith every where. BOOK III MORAL DYNAMICS CHAPTER I THE GROWTH OF THE IDEAL WE have now reached what is perhaps the most important division of our subject. We denned Moral Dynamics as that department of moral science which treats of all the processes and agencies by which the actual life is made to approach or conform to an ideal. The definition is not entirely satis- factory, and yet we do not at present know a better one. The very title tells the nature of our theme. The moral life either of individuals or of societies reveals the existence of moral energy, that is of energy directed to moral ends. There is an energy "that makes for righteousness," otherwise ethical history would have no existence. Examine the attitude toward righteousness of the individual soul at different times and you will probably discern differences. Examine the public sentiment of society, the prevailing moral standards at different times and you will observe wide variations. Some things highly esteemed in one age are scorned in another. The very best men of one age will appear very faulty in another. If one of the Old Testament saints could be raised from the dead and were to attempt to live the life he lived while in the flesh before, he would not be tolerated for a week in one of our churches. In justice to his memory it should be said that in all probability he would not attempt to live that kind of a life now.* * While the author was preparing this for the press the Christian Ad- vocate (Nashville) had an editorial discussion of the probability that the European war then in progress might be the last great war; that the awakened conscience of the civilized world would abolish war, as in similar crises it had abolished other great wrongs. Citing as an example the over- throw of slavery, the editor says, "It seems almost unbelievable that the most desperate defense of slavery that ever occurred in human history took 197 ig8 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE In the study of the changes which occur in the moral con- sciousness of the individual, we are confronted with two facts: (a) The earliest view we have of a human being reveals to us no trace of a moral nature at all. (b) The life of every normal human being of mature years does reveal to us activities which we call moral a state of soul involving what we call moral consciousness. How then does the purely unmoral life pass into the moral? What causes the moral consciousness to change level? There is a metamorphosis here as interesting as any that can be found in any portion of the animal kingdom. The child is called a moral being and properly so, but only because of the potentialities of his nature. For some months and sometimes years, it is difficult to discover activities of any other order than those that belong to the colt or the kitten. How and by what means is the transformation wrought? One set of thinkers would make the development to be purely animal in its origin. This theory is inadequate. Perhaps there is no better example of the fallacy of "Post hoc ergo propter hoc." First the animal life, afterward the moral consciousness, therefore the moral life is but the unfolding, the evolution of the animal or physical being. Just as well might these biologists argue that the keen discrimination of the student solving mathematical problems is only the evolu- place only half a century ago .... Yesterday millions of intelligent men, many of them good men, believed in slavery. To-day no one can under- stand how such a belief could have been held. As it has been with slavery, so it will be with war." No more striking example could be found of a change of level in the moral perceptions and feelings of a great people. In January, 1865, the people of the Southern states were making one of the most titanic, courageous, and devoted struggles of all history to establish a civilization, the very corner stone of which was the right of one man to make merchandise of his fellow man. Fifty years later, while thousands of the scarred veterans of that struggle are still living, a Southern editor, writing for Southern readers, says of their belief in that right that "No one can understand how such a belief could have been held." While the past fifty years shows the marked progress that can be made in the attitude of men on moral questions, the previous fifty years gives us a marked example of the terrible inertia of the moral nature. Why so much sacrifice of blood and treasure before some men could see and feel the eternal truth that to some other men was plain enough. THE GROWTH OF THE IDEAL 199 tion of the appetites. Others as we have seen would suppose a special moral sense, a somewhat superimposed upon a man, greatly to his advantage it is true, but without which he would still be man. To this we have already objected that it is an unnecessary hypothesis. The same psychological endowment that constitutes me a man makes possible my becoming a moral being. The development of the moral life results from the exercise of two conspicuously human endowments, the reflective intellect, and the will in its power of making choices. Moral development proceeds along two lines, the growth of the ideal and the evolution of motive. Observe that the phrase "the ideal" has two shades of meaning: There is the standard of manhood that each one sets for himself as desirable of attainment, that is his ideal. Again the phrase denotes "the ideal" the perfect, the standard of manhood that we suppose might be conceived by perfect intelligence. Now the ideal manhood in all the fulness which it is destined to attain does not suddenly start up before the soul "like Minerva leaping from the brain of Jupiter." We observe in regard to first ideals that they are likely to be imper- fect in one or more of three respects. They comprehend but few notions, they extend to one's relations to but few persons, and in their content they are likely to include some gross errors. But even before the first ideals are formed there is usually something done for our candidate for morality in the formation of habits of action. These activities are correct or incorrect. We cannot say how soon the moral element enters into them, but are sure that there is a considerable period in the child's development in which it is entirely lacking and in which the child learns just as the puppy or the kitten learns the tricks taught him. At this stage there is a large measure of morality in the aim of parent, teacher, or associate, but there is neither virtue nor guilt in the conduct of the child. The author once knew a child reared in a home where there was not a minute in his waking hours that his ears were not saluted with profane expletives. He learned to curse and to swear as he learned to ask for his food. It was part of his learning to talk. No 200 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE one will charge that his profanity was vicious. His elders were verily guilty, but no guilt attached to him. Many will be averse to conceding that there is an analogous lack of virtue in another child learning to repeat "Now I lay me down to sleep"; but we contend that as viciousness is lacking in the one case, so virtue is wanting in the other. Let no one imagine that, therefore, training is unimportant, and that it is a matter of indifference whether the child learns to curse or to say his prayers. When the time comes that this candidate for morality forms ideals, it will be much more easy to form one which coincides with prevalent habits. It is greatly to his advantage if the dawn of moral consciousness finds him with habits of thought and action such as he can continue to approve through future years. If any one is disposed to think that all ethical discrimination is hereby made simply a matter of training, let him remember that there are many things which we learn to do, which in fact we must learn to do, before we can give any rational account of why they should be done. Nor is the fact that we have even mechanically learned to do them any obstacle to their inclusion in a scheme of rational activity when the soul is seriously set to that task. The control of the movements of the body is a case in point. And in the larger interest as in this, the less there is to unlearn the better. In the light of this survey we can understand the contradictory character of much of the child's life. Much of it is simply mechanical, and even when moral consciousness begins to dawn, as has been previously noted, it is like the beginning of the natural consciousness of the sleeping infant who, startled by some keen experience of sensation becomes for a moment wondrously awake, and the next instant lapses into unconscious slumber. There are, and with the human constitution as it is, there are sure to be moral lapses; the fewer the better. We can follow this analogy even farther; just as the time comes when our candidate for rationality will remain awake all day, so our candidate for morality is capable of remaining morally alert all the time. Now he is capable of forming and choosing an ideal, incomplete at first but enlarging and improving as he grows. THE GROWTH OF THE IDEAL 201 Sometimes the imperfection of an early formed ideal does not consist so much in the presence of positive evil as in the distortion of a good, First ideals may be caricatures. Just as the cartoonist will take some feature of his subject's counte- nance and magnify and distort it, so the child will elevate some really good impulse or characteristic of one whom he admires into a place of undue prominence. The author remem- bers in his childhood a large boy of mechanical ingenuity but dissolute habits who was an expert in the making of tops and kites and most wonderful of all of whistles. How insignificant were all the treasures of knowledge beside the accomplish- ments of this incomparable mechanical genius ! How tyrannical seemed the parental restraint which aimed to limit his associa- tion with this incarnation of the good which he most appreciated! With what perverseness he refused to see that this opposition had any other end than to deprive a little boy of his chosen delights! How he utterly refused to comprehend that this opposition was not to kites and tops, but to other and less material things that he was bound to absorb from association with his hero! There are several conditions favorable to the growth of one's ideal: (a) An enlarged life; one which brings a man into relations with a larger number of his fellows, to each of whom he has duties; an acquaintance with the world which will impress on a man's mind the essential oneness of humanity. It has been truly said that the disputes in practical ethics have not been so much over the question: "How shall I treat my neighbor?" as over that other old question: "Who is my neighbor?" (b) Intel? xtual development: We are well aware that there are many examples of ignorant and simple minded people revealing character, admirable and beautiful in many respects. All honor to such people. They put to shame many persons of better opportunities but less earnest purpose. We will find, however, that if you make the acquaintance of these persons they have the conviction that they might have been better men had they known more. It cannot be questioned 202 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE that some of the shocking incongruities in the ideals of some people are due to an intellectual inability to think in large terms. (c) Another and very important condition for the growth of the ideal is that when I have formed an improved ideal I shall by an act of will make it mine. It is not enough that a high ideal be assented to: not enough that it has been care- fully and laboriously formed if it is to continue to exist only as a creation of the soul to be admired in its moments of reverie. We observed when treating of the will that we have little con- fidence in a choice which does not issue in appropriate action: that choices are manifested and made effective by external actions. So in order that an ideal which I have created shall at all mold my character and be itself further improved it is imperative that I shall make a persistent effort to realize it in the conduct of my life. It is here that the great battles of life occur. It requires no particular courage to form an ideal of the right kind of a man. It is not very difficult when it is formed to wish that I were such a man. Often it is not difficult to resolve that I will be that kind of a man. The battles are fought when to realize this ideal in actual life involves the making of choices against the most energetic passions. The supremely critical moments in human life are those when the question must be decided whether in some emergency the man will conform his life to his ideal or not. Jacob at Penuel, Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus, Jean Valjean, surmounting every obstacle in order to surrender himself to the law,- are examples of those who won. History, written and unwritten, is strewn with the wrecks of those who were "weighed in the balances and found wanting." We would warn our youth against two errors: (i) Do not make the mistake of choosing a low ideal. There are those who say that rather than fail in the realization of an ideal, it were better to adopt one not quite so high. Now it is impossible to have an ideal of character too high. One easy of realization is probably too low to exert any appreciable influence on character building. Not what you actually THE GROWTH OF THE IDEAL 203 succeed in accomplishing, but what, in thought and deed, you perpetually aspire to is exponential of character. "Not failure but low aim is crime." (2) Do not slip into the error of tacitly assuming that the ideal you now hold is incapable of improvement. Your ideal should ever approach THE IDEAL. The last term in your moral imagery may be like the last term in an infinite series. It flees from you. When you think you have con- ceived it, straightway you are compelled to believe that there is a somewhat beyond. The most blighting form of pessimism is that which concludes that I can be no better man to-morrow than I am to-day. CHAPTER II THE EVOLUTION OF MOTIVE WHILE a man's ideal is growing and enlarging, there is another change that is going on in every case of healthy moral develop- ment. Indeed the two changes are so related and interde- pendent that the only reason for considering them separately is the fact that they occur in different fields of the soul's activity. A man's ideal is an intellectual product. All changes in it, however conditioned, are produced by intellectual processes. The change we are now to consider occurs in the field of the sensi- bilities. Motives are only desires made efficient by activities of the will. We have called this change the evolution of motive. The term is not altogether satisfactory, but we lack any better word to designate the continual succession of higher and higher motives in the soul's development. Let it be remembered that by it we mean simply this succession, not that one is dependent on the previous one. Motives are classed as high or low, according to the nature of the good sought. They are egoistic or altruistic as the good sought is for myself or another. Egoistic motives are said to be self-centered; some say selfish. They may be, but not necessarily or always. A distinction should be made be- tween self-love and selfishness. Love is that activity of the sensibility which seeks the good of some sentient being. If that being is one's self, we call it self love. Self-love, though of lower rank than love of others, is legitimate. It is a necessary affection of the soul. No sane man can seek or wish his own hurt, conceived as such. He cannot do otherwise than seek his own good. He must love himself. Self-love passes into selfishness and a man's motives become selfish, when he loves himself so much that he desires his own good at the expense of the good of his neighbor. This is evil and only evil con- 204 THE EVOLUTION OF MOTIVE 205 tinually. An appeal to self-love is legitimate, because self- centered motives even of diverse rank may be wholesome. You may on occasion appeal to self-love; to selfishness never. Whatever of good to portions of the race may have resulted, incidentally or providentially, from the operation of selfish motives (and of this there are numberless instances) to the actors, there has invariably come only poverty of character. While recognizing in full measure the place of self-love, we wish to deny without any reservation that selfish motives have any place in the healthy development of the human soul. As a matter of fact with most men motives are mixed. Desires for more than one good conspire to prompt the man to the same external act. And yet according to the character of the man one or the other of these motives will have the chief place in his consciousness. Moral development is marked by the succession to pre-eminence in the soul's life of continually higher and higher motives. A motive which at one time might appropriately hold the highest place and be made the subject of appeal is noticeably out of place at another stage of develop- ment. An incident falling under the author's observation will illustrate this: There was a lady, bright of eye and strong of arm, a good specimen of that type of transparently honest womanhood which grows on western farms, who had an account at the village store. One can imagine the merchant's books showing, on such a day, so many dozen eggs and so many pounds of butter, on another so many chickens and so many bushels of apples; per contra at sundry times so many pounds of sugar and so many yards of muslin. Our good farm wife, like many of her kind, could carry an account in her head and on the day of settlement went with cash in hand to pay the balance due the merchant. To her surprise his books showed a balance in her favor. With some effort she succeeded in showing him the error in his book, and persuaded him to accept the money due him. She was turning to leave the store with no thought of having done anything particularly praiseworthy, or even to be remembered, intent only on getting home to feed her chickens, when the merchant called her to 206 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE return, and before she understood the purpose of her recall, slipped into her hand a stick of candy. The merriment which greeted the narration of the incident in her home was due to the incongruity of the incentives to right action, employed so effectively in childhood with the strength and maturity of character of middle life. The supersession of the lower by worthier motives is the law of normal development, even in the egoistic or self centered life. To see this, follow a typical case from childhood to what would generally be esteemed a successful manhood. There was a time in the early childhood of every one of us when something good to eat was the highest good we knew. No apology need be made for this fact. It was the highest good my mental development could compre- hend. I like a good dinner yet, but I would deserve contempt if the satisfaction of my appetite were the motive of my life now. Perhaps one of the next desires to become prominent in the child's life is the love of good clothes. What man who remembers his first pair of boots or pantaloons, or what girl with the memory of the first spring hat or parasol, will question the force of this new motive? Its entry into life marks an improvement in character. A love of good clothes, with its attendant possibility of cultivated taste, is a higher motive than the love of candy, peanuts and gumdrops. A little later the mind of the boy is stirred with the desire to accumulate property; to own as a security against the needs of age, houses and fields and merchandise. This too is an advance on his previous state. A future satisfaction, made possible by the industry, prudence and self denial of the present, is a higher good than any instant gratification of sense. We may now suppose our boy to have reached young manhood. He attends a political rally. Senator Buncomb, just from the adjournment of Congress, is met at the station by admiring thousands, escorted to the public square to the tune of "See the Conquering Hero Comes," says a few commonplace things, and is once more uproariously cheered. Our boy goes home with a new impulse in his soul. Henceforth the barnyard, the henhouse, the orchard, and the cornfield are commonplace affairs. Wak- THE EVOLUTION OF MOTIVE 207 ing or sleeping, before his eyes rise visions of long rides on the cars, assembled multitudes, blaring trumpets, beating drums, cheering throngs and booming cannon; himself the observed of all, the hero of all, borne triumphantly on on on, toward certainly a seat in the nation's Congress, perhaps to the white house at the end of Pennsylvania Avenue. Here too is a higher motive than any that have gone before, and though he is probably doomed to disappointment (and an honest friend will tell him so) yet his life will be the larger for having been thrilled with a great purpose. "A great is better than a little aim." The confidence and approval of one's fellow citizens is a good of a higher order than any we have so far considered. But all these motives are self centered and possibly the great mass of men never rise any higher than these. We should not conclude that higher motives have no place in their lives, for it will be remembered that we demonstrated that altruism is really a part of the normal human constitution. But with most men, no motives higher than those above indicated become supreme in the life. In fact most men are content to stop and to have their friends whom they instruct stop at a point much below what is attainable. A man's character is properly measured not by the aggregate of his motives, but by the motive which is supreme in his life. A man is no better than his controlling purpose. Returning to our embryo, would- be statesman, there remained much to be attained. We have not supposed any altruistic motive at all manifesting itself, and even of self-centered motives the best were not represented as coming to the front. Much of intellectual culture he will, no doubt, have received, but of intellectual power as a good in itself he has shown no conception. His mental discipline is a means to an end lower than itself. His conduct is character- ized by a large amount of generosity, justice, and fair dealing, but we have made no supposition inconsistent with the view that these things are simply stepping stones to his political ambition. It is perfectly possible for him to be and do all that we have supposed, and yet have no regard at all for right- eousness. He wishes to be thought good; for aught we have 208 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE supposed, his desire to be good may hold a very subordinate place. We may now suppose, in the course of his development, that new and higher motives enter into his life, as love of learn- ing, patriotism, reverence for God, love of righteousness. We observe: (i) This succession of higher motives is, as we have already seen, conditioned on the growth of the ideal. The soul in its development comes to know a higher good than it had previously been aware of, desires it and makes that desire efficient by an act of will. (2) The lower desires are not extinguished. The man still desires to eat, to dress, to acquire property. But in their function as motives these desires are superseded. A higher purpose now rules the man to which these previous desires are subordinated. He "forgets the things that are behind." (3) This subordination in conscious- ness of the lower desire to each ascending and better one is a condition for the efficiency of the higher. Our embryo states- man must put appetite, love of display, and avarice all behind him to realize all the good of statesmanship. It is this principle to which attention should be called. It has not received the attention from ethical and religious writers which its impor- tance demands. , The realization of the ideal manhood, cor- responding to any newly apprehended motive, depends not alone on the fact that a certain good is desired, or that I am in a measure moved by that desire. Most important of all is the relative rank assigned to that desire among my motives. Into a man's life there has come the desire to accumulate property. His success will be small unless that desire moves him with greater energy than the satisfaction of appetite or the love of display. Imagine the politician to whom political success is secondary and affects him less powerfully than his love of gain. The successful American politician is notoriously an open-handed man. He likes money but he desires it as a means to his political success. Reverse this process and we know the result. The Texas Congressman who, as the story goes, lived on his mileage and saved all his salary was not elected next term. In discussing this theme a question arises THE EVOLUTION OF MOTIVE 209 as to a man's responsibility for his motives. The question sometimes takes this form: What shall a man do when he finds himself impelled toward an appropriate act, by two motives of diverse rank, and is conscious that the lower appeals to him with the greater energy? Manifestly he should not forbear to do the appropriate act because of the mixed character of his motives. It should be remembered that while the sensi- bilities solicit the will and impel to action, the actions in turn react upon the sensibilities. It is always right to perform the appropriate act, however faulty the motives that prompt the doing. But let no one take to himself the credit of excellence of motive where baser motives have played a part. There are a few things that the man impelled by mixed motives may do toward the cultivation of the right temper of soul: (i) He can choose the higher good. He can will that the desire for it should be supreme in his life, and he can act uniformly in the manner becoming the choice of the higher good. (2) He can cultivate the higher motive by increasing his knowledge of the particular form of good which is the object of the desire comprehended in that motive. (3) He may, in his introspection, be honest with himself. He may and should give full play to the feeling of humiliation, which must arise when he recognizes his greater sensibility to the lower motive. Those three things any one may do, whatever his philosophy or religious creed. But for most who will read these pages, somewhat further is possible. If a man has accepted the Christian faith, he believes in the possibility of the human soul getting in touch with the Infinite; in the possibility of a man being transformed in the renewing of his nature from above. Such a man may resolutely set about those activities which are of advantage in availing himself of that aid. The prophet Isaiah is not the only man who, not in the slumber of the night, but having his eyes open, has had a vision of the unapproachable holiness of Jehovah, and at the same time has had revealed to him the earthiness, the baseness of his own motives. More than one such man has cried: "Woe is me for I am undone, 2io STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE for my eyes have seen the king the Lord of hosts." More than one man has had his lips touched "with the live coal from off the altar," and has heard the voice saying: "Thine iniquity is taken away and thy sin is purged." Possibly some reader may think that this discussion resembles the utterances of the pulpit. Be it so. Had the author of this work a pulpit, these words should be spoken there. Does any one say: "This is a hard saying, who can bear it?" So well do we know the awful pull of these lower goods, that we have only compassionate yearning for him. But let him make his choice with his eyes open. Fifty years from now, when the fires have all burned out, leaving him nothing but ashes, let him remember "Thou hast had thy good things" On the other hand thousands of men and women will testify out of a living experience that no sorrow mars the joy, no storm ruffles the serene peace of that soul who has put behind him every lower motive and out of the depth of a sincere heart has said: "This one thing I do." "Wisdom is the principal thing, therefore get wisdom, and with all thy getting get understanding. Exalt her and she shall promote Ikee." CHAPTER III EXTRA MORAL FORCES IN MORAL DEVELOPMENT THE moral life of most if not all men requires some helps and props during the stages of its development. Whatever we may think of some of his inferences, the Evolutionist is clearly right in his observation of the order of the Universe; that order is that "things shall come to be." The moral life is no exception to this rule. Our moral experience is some- what analogous to our learning to walk. We first crawl. It is a low, dirty, beastly mode of locomotion, but with rare exceptions we must pass through it. And there is this promise in it: there is movement. To him who sees with a prophet's vision, there is no more thrilling moment in human life than that in which the infant lifts its face out of the dust, turns his eyes upward and essays to rise. That movement differentiates him from the creeping worm, and forecasts his approach to the Infinite. But how did he rise? Not by any sudden upward bound, but by climbing by a chair; and his first erect move- ments are made possible and aided by leaning on various objects around him. We need not expect to find a physical analogue for every psychical fact, but surely this glance at the child's experience in learning to walk may fortify us against surprise, when the moralist asserts that the first steps in moral development are made possible by certain props and supports from without. It may be possible that these extra moral agencies are just adapted to our immature condition. A crutch is a nuisance to a sound man, but it may be of great service to a cripple. Unfortunately most men seem to be some- what crippled morally. They need, for the time, some props and it were folly to discard them. Chief among these extra moral forces we would name: (i) The constitution of nature. (2) The civil law. (3) Public opinion. (4) Religious faith. 211 212 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE We have called these forces extra moral, because their authority is from without the man. This is the first thing to be noted in regard to them. One may not always consider this, but it is a fact that they all speak to a man from somewhat outside himself. These agencies are not, however, on this account to be considered anti-moral. We have already con- tended that they have a very important function in the develop- ment of the correct life. Man knows things without him before he is able to attentively consider things within. It is not strange, therefore, that he should know and heed an author- ity outside himself, before he learns to know and implicitly obey the authority of his ideal. Neither should we be sur- prised to find that there are large numbers of men over whom the ideal has some power who are either helped or hindered by the authority of these extra-moral agencies. We say helped or hindered for it may come to pass in this world of confusion that these forces may antagonize the authority of conscience, or may antagonize each other. When all these agencies unite to enforce the authority of conscience, a man may not be aware of their influence over him. In those cases where they come in collision, their force is at once apparent. It takes nothing from the imperative sanction of duty that it is often first learned and enforced by an authority from without. The same is true of the first learning of many truths that afterwards shine in their own light. There are several ways in which these extra moral forces contribute to moral development: (i) A man learns to 'dis- criminate in regard to his activities. It is something to learn discrimination at all. He learns to direct his activities to an end and this is an essential element in moral action. (2) Under the authority of these extra moral forces he often acquires habits of approximately correct action, before he is able to morally direct his action, and when later he comes to apply an ideal to his life to direct his activities to moral ends, it is greatly to his advantage if he has already, by any means, formed correct habits. For example, we were all taught that we must not steal, and learned to shrink from appropriating to EXTRA MORAL FORCES 213 our own use the property of another long before we could at all understand the rational ground of the rights of property. (3) These agencies may re-enforce the authority of con- science and hold up as it were a will which was tottering under the assaults of passion. It may be argued (as indeed is implied in some of the things just said) that on occasion these agencies may be as potent for evil as for good. This is true. A tardily working and imperfectly understood course of nature, a debased public opinion, an unjust civil law, or a false, irrational, or licentious religion, may steal a march on the intelligence, fill the mind with untrue theories of morals, and establish vicious habits of action. In view of this truth we might be discouraged as to the utility of these forces were it not that we find an analogue in man's physical activities. It is doubtful whether physiolo- gists have even yet correctly estimated the importance in our physical development of the primarily unconscious and irrational movements of childhood. Very erroneous habits of action will be formed, some things will be learned that have to be unlearned, but the child must learn to move some way, before he can learn to move the right way. The boy who strikes at a ball and misses it is developing the power to hit it the next time. In morals, too, in many cases of errors uncorrected, or even approved by some of these extra moral agencies, there have been implications for the correction of the error when once the intelligence of men was directed to it. For example, as has already been remarked, "The Truce of God" was the veriest caricature on the Gospel of "good will to men," yet it did bring home to the minds of those rude barbarians the truth that God was displeased with a life of violence. Bishop Butler has strong argument for his contention that the "constitution and course of nature (in which he included both the civil law and public opinion) is more potent for good than evil to the man who attentively considers it." CHAPTER IV EXTRA MORAL FORCES CONTINUED WE take up in order these extra moral agencies in the develop- ment of the moral life. First as to the constitution and course of nature: It is not contended that all the child's adjustments to the course of natural objects and forces have a moral sig- nificance. The child, like the young animal, in some things learns prudence by what he suffers. Thus he learns that a fall will hurt, and that fire will burn. But when he becomes capable of reflection, and intelligently directs his action for the purpose of securing a prospective good, e.g., foregoing the pleasure of appetite for the higher good of health, he has passed into a realm at least bordering on the moral field. There is a difference in acts which are determined by the fear or hope of near or of remote consequence. "A burned child dreads the fire." So does the kitten or the tiger's cub. There is no moral quality in the act of avoiding the flame. The consequences of transgression are so swift and sure that he cannot do otherwise than avoid it. The sensibilities really necessitate the appro- priate conduct. There is no self-determined action at all. There is no moral quality in the hungry man picking berries or pursuing the fleeing game. But put the consequences, either pleasurable or painful, ever so little in the future and you have presented a different problem, the solution of which involves the exercise of conspicuously human faculties. The hungry savage and the hungry animal, picking up and eating the clams found on the beach are not credited with moral action. It is a different proposition if, on a hot July day, you find the man plowing corn that he and his may have bread to eat next winter. While wishing to hold them at their true worth, we would not overestimate material things and forces as moral teachers. 214 EXTRA MORAL AGENCIES 215 The things taught are almost exclusively related to a man's care of his bodily life and comfort. And yet the habits of self control and even of self denial, therein promoted, are serviceable in other and higher fields. Civil law has been defined as "a rule of civil conduct pre- scribed by the supreme power in a state, commanding what is right and prohibiting what is wrong." Though sometimes subjected to criticism these words of Blackstone stand to-day as the best definition of the civil law ever given and it will be hard to improve it. Several things are suggested by this definition: (i) It is a rule of civil conduct; that is of conduct of man in society, not in isolation. Observe, too, it has to do with conduct with external action. It says nothing of the feeling or temper which I shall maintain toward my neighbor or toward God. (2) This rule of conduct is prescribed by the supreme power of the state. In despotic countries the truth of this is easily seen. It is no less true in representative republics. Supreme power in the latter resides in the people, and they do the prescribing through agents; the law so passed until superseded having all the authority that any human utterance can have. (3) The language of the law is in the imperative mood. It commands and it prohibits. It says: "Thou shalt" or "thou shalt not." (4) While imperative it is not self sufficient or arbitrary. There is a reason for its utter- ance. Though like all human judgment liable to error, it assumes to measure its utterance by some standard. It does not simply command what to do and what to forbear. It assumes to command what is right and to forbid what is wrong. (5) It is not named in the definition but it is a well-known fact that every legal pronouncement carries with it the declaration of a penalty for its violation. It is this which gives to law its wonderful efficiency as a prop to the moral nature of the man whose will is weak. We said in a former chapter that men prefer to tell the truth rather than a lie, and that the great amount of falsehood in the world was due not so much to turpitude as to weakness. A similar remark can be made in regard to all evil doing. Comparatively few men do evil for 216 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE the love of evil doing. Most men prefer to do right when there is no promise of advantage in doing wrong. The trouble is that their moral natures act with such feeble energy that a very small incentive of appetite, avarice, or lust of power, will turn the scale. Now the penalty of the law is a counter weight thrown into the scale of virtue. Nor is the man con- templating the immediate commission of crime the only one benefited. There are few object lessons in morals like a court room where justice is dispensed. For that large class of persons who judge right and wrong by immediate consequences it is well that there is a power able to make hard the way of the transgressor. To many men it is easier to believe a thing wrong if they see that it gets them into trouble. The power of public opinion arises out of the original and instinctive desire of man for the approval of his fellows. We call this desire an original and instinctive one. It is true that the infant may associate the frown of parent or nurse with the physical pain of a blow. He may at first associate the smile with the gift of some delicacy and so seem to give us only the phenomenon of the brute that "loves the hand that feeds him." This is because he can comprehend the material good before he can understand the other. As soon as he has developed sufficient intelligence to distinguish the approval from the dis- approval of his fellows, to know when father, mother, brother, sister, teacher, or playfellow are pleased and when displeased, that soon does he recognize that approval as a good and that displeasure as an evil; and this severed from all relation to physical consequences. Apart from all hope of reward or fear of punishment he does regard the approval of his fellow as a good to be sought and his disapproval as an evil to be shunned. Admitting that this is not the highest sentiment of the soul, we do contend that it is a worthy one. Far be it from us to say that the approval of any man or set of men is always to be chosen. On the other hand there are goods which are higher; and when presented in competition with this must be chosen, else the man suffers condemnation and moral degra- EXTRA MORAL AGENCIES 217 dation. We have learned to honor that noble company who have said: "Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye." The man who, having formed an ideal of manly character, adheres to it through scorn and shame, preferring his own self respect to the approval of all others, however mistaken his judgment, wins our admiration. Hypatia has been immortalized by those who detest her philosophy. This has been discussed at length, because it is important that no mistake be made as to the place of this sentiment in our moral development. We stated that moral good consists in the choice of the higher of two natural goods that are presented, the one in competition with the other. When the approval of any man or of any number of men can be secured only at the sacrifice of piety or of self respect, it must be resolutely trodden under foot; but when it stands opposed to ease or appetite, or any one of a hundred personal conceits, it is the higher good and must be chosen. Perhaps the most hopeless case to be met in our effort to lift up fallen men is that of the man who says truly: "I do not care what people think of me." Much of the worth of public opinion depends on the character of that public whose good will and approval are sought. Yet we would not be of those who love a man "because of the enemies he has made." Even the good will of the vilest of men is not to be lightly esteemed but is always to be considered a lower good than the approval of the good and the true. It has sometimes been questioned whether public opinion has been more helpful or hurtful in the development of society. Whatever we may think of it we can never eliminate its influence. We can only endeavor to make a public opinion which is whole- some. Observe, however, that the public opinion of even the most imperfect societies (e.g., of a gang of hoodlums or street arabs) always approves many good things and usually embodies some basic principles which, if logically carried out, would go far toward counteracting the evil. On the whole public opinion has a balance to its credit. CHAPTER V EXTRA MORAL AGENCIES CONTINUED Religious Faith THE effort has sometimes been made to deduce our moral con- sciousness from religious faith. It has been affirmed that man is first of all a worshiping being that his belief in Deity is intuitive and that from that faith all his moral ideas are derived. Theologians have sometimes claimed that without religious faith men would have no moral ideas at all. We do not think that this claim can be sustained. The question calls for an observation of facts, not for speculation. No necessity lies upon us to relate the two things to each other as cause and effect. We do not believe that all moral consciousness can be traced to religious faith, because that in the instruction of children many concrete duties are taught, in some measure comprehended, and the obligation to them felt before any instruction about God is given or could be comprehended. But any scheme of ethics would be very incomplete which did not reckon with man's relations to Deity. Any survey of the field of moral Dynamics will be very faulty which does not recognize religious faith as the most potent of the forces concerned in man's moral development. The effect of any man's religious faith on his moral life is largely dependent on the character which that religious system assigns to Deity and the relation which the Deity is represented as holding toward men. It is important that both these conditions be observed. There is a type of religious theory which is robbed of its moral effectiveness by the fact that, while willing to concede all that you desire as to the character of the Infinite, it proceeds to make of him a hazy abstraction so far removed from contact with and relation to human affairs that the conduct of men would seem to be to him a matter of 218 EXTRA MORAL AGENCIES 219 indifference. Wherever religious faith has exerted any apprecia- ble influence on the lives of men, it has been a faith in a God who "is near and not afar off." It would be interesting to make a comparative study of the several religious systems. But such an examination would belong to historical theology rather than to moral science. Besides, few persons will raise any question as to the comparative merit of the different religious systems; with most persons we are likely to meet the question is Christian faith or no faith at all. We may approach the study of the Christian system from either of several points of view, although there will probably be some repetition in our observations: (i) We may examine the system in itself in its essentials as to its ethical code and the motives to which it appeals. We may inquire as to its excellence or its defects, asking as to its adaptation to the work we have in mind the promotion of righteous conduct and righteous character on earth. (2) We may inquire historically, what have been its results, absolutely or comparatively? What effects have been produced in the several communities of earth by the teaching of the Christian faith to the people? And we may ask an even more critical question: What in general has been the effect on the character of the individual man, of the acceptance in good faith of the Christian teaching? For by this test in the last analysis must the system be judged. (3) In- dependent of any answer which may be made to any of the above queries we may ask, What is the evidence on which the votaries of Christianity seek to commend it to thinking men? What is the probability of its truth? For no matter how well adapted to our purpose, as moral educators, no matter how beneficent its results, as an honest man I dare not teach it if I know it false, nor has it any claim on my acceptance unless the evidence in its support is such as would justify acceptance in any other practical interest. Considering the system in itself, we observe that no one questions the purity of the moral code of Christianity. We do not claim that all its precepts are original or peculiar. We 220 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE do claim for it a completeness and purity not found elsewhere. Is it not remarkable that no one attempts to improve on the moral teachings of Jesus and his Apostles? Even the devotees of other faiths have nothing to say against the sublime morality of Jesus. We would lay as a tribute at the feet of our Lord the one criticism of Minister Wu, that Christ's ideals are too high; the perfect in any line of effort is too high for the mediocre. But the power of Christian faith, in the moral development of men, is not due alone to the elevated character of its ethical code. Fully as important are the number and character of the motives to which it appeals. While it exalts the most altruistic and spiritual motives, it does not disdain to "con- descend to men of low estate," and within the range of truth to appeal to any wholesome motive which the individual is able to appreciate. It even claims that godliness has promise "of the life that now is." It differs from both ancient and modern stoicism in magnifying human sympathies. Although Christians have sometimes been ascetics, asceticism is no part of Christianity. It really assumes that the good things of earth are made to be enjoyed by men. In Hebrew ethics (which Christianity inherited) appeal was continually made to the desire for bounteous harvests. Yet we must concede that in this respect it could not compete with the philosophy of the Epicureans or the licentious latitude of Mohammed.* *We need to be careful here lest we unduly magnify the place of earthly motives in the Christian scheme. "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you," may indeed inspire the inquiring soul with the proper hope that in the service of God, he shall have "bread to eat and raiment to put on," but we observe that here as elsewhere, we are taught the strict subordination of the lower to the higher motive. It is questionable whether, on the whole, Christianity has reaped more of success or failure, from even the legitimate appeal to the lower motives. What it has gained in quantity, it has often lost in quality. To that reveler in wine and debauchery, sick, penniless and ragged, loathing himself, cursing society and defying God, we may with propriety present as the sequence of a reformed life, a clean body, well fed and clad, a comfortable home and the esteem of his fellow men. These are the highest goods that his debased nature can appreciate. He would say as a certain labor leader is reported to have said to a clergyman "If it's all the same to you, Dominie, we'll take a little less of your heaven, and a little more bread and meat." He needs the bread and meat, and the desire EXTRA MORAL AGENCIES 221 There are other things in Christianity that are calculated to make its appeal to men powerful: (i) It teaches sinful men that a holy Creator is displeased with their conduct. Unpalatable as this is, it strikes the ear from the vantage ground of the human conscience. There are few men who are not more or less familiar with the sense of guilt: what we have termed the feeling of self reproach. The man who condemns himself can easily believe that a holy God condemns him. (2) It teaches that it is possible to have forgiveness of sins and the restored favor of the Creator. Observe that we are not at this time defending any of these Christian dogmas. We are only calling attention to the things in the Christian system which promise to make it a very helpful prop in a man's moral development. Whether these doctrines be true or false they are in the Christian system and our contention now is that they are adapted to rendering Christian faith potent for good. (3) It confidently asserts the doctrine of human immor- tality and that a man's condition in the future state is dependent on his behavior here. Some moral teachers have shown a disposition to abandon the emphasis which the early disciples of Jesus laid on the doctrine of immortality. Certainly if they have lost faith in it they ought not to preach it, but it is to be remembered that the heroes of the Christian church have been strong because they had a faith which laid hold on two worlds. for them is higher than the desires which have been dominating his life. We may urge him to "follow Jesus" even for the "loaves and fishes." But there is danger here. About the tune our convert from the slums is com- fortably fed, clothed and housed, and feels his life thrilled with a purpose to become rich and famous, he will find himself confronted with the demand of this new faith, that all these motives which have been so efficient in lift- ing him from the gutter, are to be subordinated to a higher one. He will hear the stern command "Love not the world neither the things of the world." The motives which with religious faith came into his life, lifted him up and started him on the road of prosperity are now an incumbrance, and stand in the way of the satisfaction of the higher and heaven born desires. So thousands of men have found it. Thus while the spirit of Christianity does have a place for earthly good, that place is such a subor- dinate one that we do not believe very much, from that point of view, can be said for the dynamics of the system. 222 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE The marvelous power to arouse vicious men which the preach- ing of the Gospel has at times shown, has been due to the fact that in some way it was able to awaken in them a conviction that the consequences of either a wicked or a righteous life reached beyond the grave. Having examined the Christian system in its essential nature we next inquire historically whether the results will accord with our expectation. Has any considerable degree of success attended the teaching of Christianity in the world? Now success must be both quantitative and qualitative. No matter how well adapted the system may be to develop right- eous character if received, we would have to discard it as a moral agency if in some degree it did not show propagating power; i.e., unless men in reasonable numbers can be induced to accept it. On the other hand, no matter how great its propa- gating power; no matter how successful in winning adherents, we will have to discard it unless it shows an ability to improve the lives of those who accept it. Of our first hypothesis Judaism is an example. Hebrew morality is of a very high order. In the face of a very common prejudice, we assert that the Jew may successfully claim to have compared favorably in morals with the men of any nation in which he has sojourned. It is said that when Beaconsfield was twitted with his Hebrew extraction, he retorted that "a race which though of alien blood had furnished a prime minister to Pharaoh, king of Egypt, Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon, Cyrus of Persia, and Victoria of England, did not need to apologize for itselL" In most of those cases it was the moral quality of the Jew which won for him the consideration which he received. That there are Jews and Jews we freely admit, but contend that the moral teaching of the synagogue is of a high order. It may fairly be questioned whether any other faith can show 'a greater per- centage of men of unswerving integrity. But there is little propagating power in Judaism. It trains the children of Abraham but does not win others to its fold. On the other hand Mohammedanism is a disciple-making faith. Perhaps no system has ever shown greater success in winning adherents, EXTRA MORAL AGENCIES 223 but when we ask what it does for them we are disappointed. Truly they change their theology but not their morals. We should not judge all Musselmans by the "unspeakable Turk," but it is not on record that any people ever became on the whole in character a better people by embracing the faith of the prophet. Turning now to Christianity we find that it has possessed the power to commend itself to the favorable consideration of large numbers of men. Beginning with a few simple-minded peasants in Judea, without wealth or political influence, in less than three hundred years it won its way to such esteem that it was made (a fatal day) the state religion of the Roman empire. And when the Northern hordes swept down over Gaul and Italy, threatening to wipe out every vestige of Roman civilization there was something in the conquered Christian which awed the conqueror in' o accepting the faith of the van- quished. Christian Europe is the answer to the question whether Christianity has propagating power. As to the second requisite Christianity has shown its power a to raise the hope, elevate the purposes and improve the lives of those who wholeheartedly and in good faith receive it." The cases of failure to which we will be cited will be found due to the fact that the Christian faith has not been received in its entirety as applied to the whole domain of life. This apology cannot be made for the moral failures of other faiths. A man can become in name a Christian and be no better man, as he can become a Mohammedan and be no better man. But he can become a good Mohammedan and be all that the system of the prophet requires of him and still remain a cruel and licentious man and an undesirable citizen. But he cannot become a good Christian, that is, accept Christianity in good faith with all its requisitions and implications, and remain a bad man. In conversation with a Japanese convert about the moral life of his people, he said "We have good heathen and bad heathen, but a man is always just what he grows up from a child, the bad man always stay bad. There is no change from bad to good. The missionary come, with the Jesus 224 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE teaching, and some bad man become good man." Very simply was this told and in broken English. The young man was really giving a paraphrase of the utterance of an early Christian missionary when he said: "I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, for it is the power (we are in moral Dynamics now) the power of God unto salvation unto every one that believe th." Under Christian teaching trans- formations of character are everywhere occurring. The author does not know of such events elsewhere and is persuaded that elsewhere they do not occur in any considerable numbers. It is remarkable how the history of the world seems to verify the words of Jesus when he said: "Whose soever sins ye remit they are remitted unto them, and whose soever sins ye retain they are retained" John 20:23. There are various fraternal orders that require a high type of character as a con- dition of membership. They seek to gather together companies of men already good. But we have yet to learn of any organiza- tion of men except those which bear the name of the Nazarene, which seriously takes upon itself the task of transforming bad men into good men. CHAPTER VI WHY EXAMINE THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY? DOUBTLESS some will be surprised at our including Christian Evidences in ethical discussion. If our survey of moral science only took account of character either as it is, or as it ought to be, some criticism would be in order. But Science asks not alone what things are but also how and by what forces they come to be. We have proposed to consider not alone the nature of the ideal manhood, but also all those agencies and forces which may aid us in approaching the ideal. We have insisted that moral dynamics is essentially a part of our subject. A recent writer has stated our case somewhat as follows: If the naturalist in the prosecution of his studies were to stumble upon some variety of plant or animal, having every zone for its habitat, exhibiting well marked characteristics, whether under the equator or the polar circle, of such persistent con- tinuity that from fossils it appeared to have been the same in pre-historic eras; if, moreover, it were claimed that this plant or animal had exerted a powerful influence in the development of material civilization; if it were further claimed that it had in it possibilities of still greater beneficent influences, scientific societies both of Europe and America would unite in saying that here was an object worthy of the most careful study. As moral philosophers we have presented to us an analogous phe- nomenon when in our study of the forces which have helped on the moral development of men we came upon the Christian religion. Observe, i. Large numbers of men and women who have been conspicuous for their attainments in virtue have recognized Christian faith as the most important dynamic agency in the improvement of their lives. Indeed by far the greater number of those of our acquaintance whose lives have shown 225 226 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE improvement in moral status will be ready to affirm that Christian faith has been the most potent force in their develop- ment. Some may think that these persons are mistaken, but if so their uniform conviction in the matter is a fact to be accounted for. 2. The effect of Christian teaching on the public conscience is too well known to be questioned. Vices which in pagan society were openly flaunted in the face of all mankind are compelled by an enlightened public opinion to slink away from the light. 3. There yet remains "much land to be possessed." The great effects of Christian faith have been wrought with only a minority of men accepting it, and these applying it only to a limited sphere. It has in it the possibility of much greater beneficent action if it were applied to all the relations of life and to all spheres of influence. So far the world's business, even that done by Christian men, is only partially Christianized and the proposal that the golden rule should be applied to politics and the intercourse of nations is often met with derision. 4. The claim is never seriously made that Christian faith has hindered the moral development either of an individual or of a community. The instances of "the failure of Christianity" (to which we are sometimes cited) find an easy explanation in the incompleteness of Christian faith rather than in the excess of it. It may occur to some one that if these things are undis- puted no more remains to be said. If Christianity is so benefi- cent in its influences, is not that sufficient reason for accepting and teaching it? We answer: Not if it is based upon a fraud. Some one described the state of religious thought during the Augustan age of Rome thus: "To the vulgar all religions are equally true, to the philosopher all are equally false and to the statesman all are equally useful" But with the views of rectitude which we have received we will not be at liberty to accept and teach, as truth, a known falsehood or even a half truth, because forsooth it may be useful. It would be bad morals, as well as ultimately bad policy, to treat our fellow men as some foolish mothers have been known to treat their fretful children: "Hush, be still now; Bogie man will WHY EXAMINE THE EVIDENCES 227 catch you." No doubt that device has been temporarily useful; but it is a utility too dearly bought. We received our first religious views as we did our political faith, "by inheritance from our fathers." This is right. But there came a time when we wished to know for what reason father was a Republican or a Democrat. And it is unavoidable in the development of rational men and women that there should come a time of questioning as to their religious faith. There is only one rule known, whereby one may never doubt. That rule is: "Never think." Only one way is known to us to get out of doubt. That is "Keep on thinking." CHAPTER VII THE NATURE OF CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES THE term Christianity is one of varied import. In its most comprehensive significance it stands for that body of moral and religious doctrine which is found in the life and teaching of Jesus of Nazareth. "Christian Evidences" is not a study of the beauties of the Christian code of ethics. Sublime moral maxims like the Golden Rule and the Beatitudes commend themselves to the judgment of mankind on their own merits. If their author were even proven an impostor they would still shine in their own light. They would still commend themselves to us as the best expressions of human duty that philosophy had ever formulated. But they would lack the authority of divine command which has been attributed to them and which in the past has been so effective in the effort to press them upon the human conscience. Christianity has embodied in it a number of doctrines as to the nature and attributes of Deity. This is Christian Theology. It is no part of "Christian Evidences" to consider the reasonable- ness or otherwise of Christian Theology. But Christianity in- cludes a body of doctrine in regard to the nature and life history of Jesus of Nazareth. The disciples of Jesus claim that in the person of this Jesus a supernatural being came to earth and submitted Himself to the common experiences of the race. Indeed they assert that He claimed this for Himself. They further claim that on the conditions which He prescribes "men may have the forgiveness of their sins, the transformation of their character, the continuing presence of a Divine Com- forter and a pleasant assurance of immortality and happiness after death." These are stupendous claims and their sub- stantiation will require stupendous proofs. Such proofs the first disciples of Jesus are represented as claiming that He 228 THE NATURE OF CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES 229 furnished. They assert that this Jesus in the light of day and before the eyes of the multitude, wrought many wonderful works which showed Him to have the "forces of Nature in the grip of His will." They further assert that finally having been put to death and buried, on the third day He walked out of the tomb, and at sundry times, for the space of forty days, showed Himself to them alive. And that at the end of that time having given them commandment to teach and to make disciples of all nations, a cloud received Him out of their sight and they saw Him no more. Now the study of Christian Evidences is a study of the credibility of these claims. It seeks to answer this question: Are the things claimed for Him sufficiently well attested to warrant reasonable men to-day in accepting Jesus of Nazareth as the authoritative revelation of God to man? It aims to do this much and no more. The author deems it so important that the question of the excellence of Christian teaching and ethics be separated from the question of its authority, that he adds a homely illustration from his childhood's experience. We were a group of schoolboys in the woods in Ohio. The noon hour was always too short for our purposes; the signal for the resumption of our tasks was the teacher's tapping with his penknife on the window pane. Accidentally, at first, we found certain advantages (from our point of view) accruing to us in wandering too far from the schoolhouse to hear the signal. What a surprised air we assumed when, at the middle of the afternoon, we returned weary with play. How well the excuse "We did not hear you rap" served to save us from the penalties of truancy. We worked it "for all it was worth," and for several days "worked the teacher" finely. There came a day when we were surprised by the appearance of a towheaded urchin with this ominous message: "Books is called and teacher says for you boys to come right along in." Some were incredulous and subjected the boy to a grueling cross-examination. Mark you, there was no question in our minds as to what we ought to do, indeed as to what we ought to have done an hour before. The one question that we thought it worth while to consider was: 230 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE Did the teacher really send that boy? Was his message authoritative? That urchin with his message and our reception of it is in some respects a homely but fitting analogue to the relation of the message of Jesus Christ to men in the larger interest. That boy (if we believed him) brought to bear on our feeble desire for learning and regard for duty the added motive of regard for the teacher's favor, and a wholesome fear of his displeasure. It was a prop to a feeble will. Christian faith brings to bear on weak and vacillating human nature the added motive of regard for the Divine approval. In each case the question is not asked as to what duty may be. In each case duty is sufficiently well known. But in each case some one asks and must be answered, a ls this message credible?" "Does this messenger speak with authority?" We asked: "Did the boy really come from the teacher?" In the larger interest, hesitating, doubting, pleasure-loving men and women before committing themselves to Him are asking: "Was Jesus of Nazareth really in fact a messenger sent from God?" And you and I must produce the reasons for our faith. CHAPTER VIII HOW COULD A DIVINE REVELATION, IF MADE, BE ACCREDITED? PRELIMINARY to the discussion of this question it is in order to ask as to the probability of any special revelation being made at all. Little time may be spent with those who dog- matically assert that such a revelation is an impossibility. Many have thought it very improbable. Few have had the audacity to say that it was an impossibility to the Most High. Now if it is conceded that it is possible for God to reveal his will to men, the only practical question is as to the wisdom of His doing so. If it should appear to us that it would be wise, we are then prepared to deal with it as a probable event, and to view a purported revelation as a matter capable of being proven by evidence appropriate to the proof thereof. We are under the necessity of believing that God had some end in view in the creation of the human race. It surely would be no part of wisdom to leave such a being as man without knowledge as to what he might do to realize the end of his being. Indeed it is possible to view this question in such a light that the marvel will be, not that God has revealed Himself at all, but that He has done so so seldom. There is something attractive in the doctrine of the poet's song that .... in all ages, Every human heart is human, That in even savage bosoms There are longings, yearnings, strivings, For the good they comprehend not. That the feeble hands and helpless, Groping blindly in the darkness, Touch God's right hand in that darkness, And are lifted up and strengthened. But while this thought is very pleasing we must confess that as a matter of fact this "groping blindly in the darkness" 231 232 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE each for himself is very unsatisfactory and very barren of results. Even if the supposed revelation in Christianity is after all only a "will o' the wisp," it remains a fact that in it every year more men are finding their way to a life of virtue than are known to have done so in all climes and ages by this " groping" spoken of so admiringly. So we may say that if Christianity is not true it ought to have been. Some one may say (erroneously we think) that the goodness of the Creator pledges him to have done more. Few if any will contend that this old world did not need so much. Now if a revelation is to be made, it is evidently of impor- tance that there be some way of accrediting it. The mere claim of some man to speak as the vicegerent of the Most High is not sufficient. All will agree that the world has had more than enough of such frauds. No one is bound to listen to every fellow mortal who comes to him saying: "I have a message from God to thee." In the absence of convincing proof it is certainly in order to retort: "Which way went the Spirit of the Lord from me to speak to thee?" What sort of proof will be appropriate and convincing? You remember that only Ulysses could bend the bow of Ulysses. There are things that no one less than God can do. He who assumes to come to me with a divine message, claims the wisdom of God. He need not be surprised that I demand that he show me the power of God. If he represent the Author of nature, is it unreasonable that I ask him to show his commission in author- ity over nature? A miracle is properly defined as "an extraor- dinary event, wrought in attestation of a divine message, of such a character as to manifestly imply that is was effected by the immediate and special volition of Deity." We believe that God is as truly in the ordinary course of nature as in the extraordinary event; but that which is frequently and uni- formly occurring lacks convincing evidential value in a special case. It is necessary to this end that the power which is over nature shall reveal itself in some supersession of the usual order. Instead of apologizing for our belief in miracles we would maintain that a miracle of some sort is the appropriate, DIVINE REVELATION HOW ACCREDITED? 233 and so far as we can see, the only appropriate method of accred- iting a divine message. We have found many who would dissent from this but have found no one who would presume that he could inform the Most High of a better way. It may be objected that this view of the case would neces- sitate the working of miracles in every age and before the eyes of every man. This would be true but for one thing, and that circumstance is fatal to the objection. The fact is this: human nature is so constituted that it is capable of receiving human testimony and of being convinced thereby. No one proposes, even in the most weighty matters, to limit the sphere of his certainty to the horizon or his experience. Not only are men capable of being convinced by testimony as to matters of fact, but there may be testimony of sufficient strength to compel belief in any mind not already committed to unbelief. CHAPTER IX THE PROPER TEMPER OF MIND IN WHICH TO EXAMINE CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES IN some minds there lurks a suspicion that because of lonj cherished opinions Christian men are unable to properly weigh the evidence for and against the truth of Christianity. That we approach the study with a decided bias toward the faith of our fathers may be frankly conceded. But that such bias may not hinder a fair consideration of the evidence and need not preclude our perception of the truth may reasonably be inferred when we observe that a very different principle has been announced in regard to some other lines of investiga- tion. A few years since some one in discussing the work of some scientific experts set forth in effect the idea that no man is qualified to pass judgment on the conclusions of modern science, unless he is himself a scientist. Had any one said that no man was capable of passing judgment on the evidences of the truth of Christianity unless he were himself a Christian, it would have been thought the utterance of religious bigotry. As a matter of fact each statement is erroneous, and yet each is simply an over statement of a truth. It is not true that a man must be committed to any scientific theory in order to judge of its correctness. It is true that he must have the scientific spirit. He must be in sympathy with the general spirit of scientific investigation. Lacking that spirit the data of science will not press upon him with the weight to which they are entitled. Likewise, it is not true that a man must be committed to Christianity in order to judge of its evidences, but he should be in sympathy with its ends and purposes a man who in his inmost soul does desire to be a righteous man and desires the triumph of righteousness in the earth. His 234 PROPER TEMPER OF MIND 235 attitude is not necessarily one of indifference. In many things we are in accord with that man of science who said: "What care I what the truth may be, so only it is the truth?" and yet there are scientific questions in the investigation of which such an attitude would be unbecoming; e.g., some years since there was some discussion as to whether the world were rapidly drying up. Streams anc 1 lakes were measured and rainfall carefully observed. Men were determined to know the truth and to accept it whatever it might be, but who will believe that any man interested in the investigation was without care as to the result. True his desire for a beneficent finding might be a somewhat vitiating element but we believe that it was less so than the morbid temper of the man who wrote a work of fiction in which he fairly gloated over the desolation of the earth as one after another of our lakes and rivers are dried up, a dying population, following a receding sea until finally the last man perishes with the failure of a little pool in what had been the ocean's deepest bed. We do not believe that the Christian's optimism is so great a hindrance to a correct judgment as is the despair of the man who sees no star of hope in earth's dark night. Further we may freely admit that faith in Christianity may bias one's judgment in its favor while weighing its evidences, but it is equally clear that disbelief or dislike of Christianity will be fully as potent in giving a bias of judgment against it. We assert without fear of successful contradiction that the theoretically unpreju- diced juror for weighing the evidences of Christianity cannot be found on this earth. We have conceded and all will agree that the Christian devotee is prejudiced in its favor. It is equally clear though not so frequently noted that the non- Christian is prejudiced against it. There is a sharp polarity about the Christian system, compelling men to range them- selves in opposing camps. Even though a man is not an adherent of a rival religious system the very nature of the Christian teaching is such as to arouse his antagonism unless he is persuaded to accept it. His pride is wounded by the fact that Christianity assumes as a basal fact that which his 236 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE guilty conscience has ever and anon been thrusting upon him " You are a guilty sinner." What shall we then do? Who shall weigh and pass judg- ment on these evidences? We answer: Everyone. That the Christian is not an indifferent or thoroughly unprejudiced juror, we frankly concede. But he is as competent as any one we can find and he must sit on the jury. Fortunately for our hopes of fair judgment many men in regard to other interests have been in like situations. It may be shown that a very earnest hope as to what may be found to be true is not always inconsistent with a grim determination to know the truth at any cost. For example, it has been hinted to you that a mortal disease has fastened itself upon you. You certainly hope that it is not true, but you will consult a physician. You do not search for a stranger who does "not care what the truth may be." It never occurs to you that the friendly interest of your lifelong, tried and tested family physician will at all incapacitate him for giving a thorough and honest examination and a correct diagnosis. We who are Christians would be equally honest and rational here. We examine the evidences of the truth of the Christian faith, hoping, indeed, that it may be found true. But whatever the truth may be we will know it. This is the mental attitude in which one should be for the study of Christian Evidences. CHAPTER X THE KIND AND DEGREE OF PROOF WE MAY EXPECT IN EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY WE speak of proof properly so called. There are persuasions as to truth that are obtained by acts of direct perception. Where possible they may be better than proof, but they should not be called by that name. You desire to know whether a given solution is sweet or sour, whether a certain fabric is green or red, whether certain sounds will blend harmoniously. You do not adduce anything in proof. You simply taste, you look, you listen, and you know. Some insist on the applica- tion of this method to Christianity. Evangelists never weary of exhorting men to prove the truth of Christianity by trying it. They are right. Most of those whom they address are in an attitude such that they can try it. There are thousands of men and women who in the inner life have had an experience which wrought a confirmation of the truth which far transcends anything that we may hope to accomplish by logical argument. You ask me, brethren, how I know That Jesus is divine; The rather bid me tell you how I know That yonder sun doth shine; The rather bid me tell you how I know that billows roll, Or winds sweep on from north to south, Why, friends He saved my soul. But this experience is possible only on certain conditions of soul that cannot be commanded at will. It will be found too that it presupposes such a conviction in the man's mind of the truth of Jesus Christ that the man was able to risk his all upon him. This is what the personal workers mean when they exhort the man to "trust in Jesus." No one can do that while his mind is torn by questioning whether or not Jesus may be a myth and the Christian's hope a delusion. In 237 238 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE making this revelation God has shown a great respect for human intelligence by furnishing many "infallible proofs," and we admit that the unbeliever or the devotee of another system has a right to demand of us as disciples of Jesus that we produce "our reasons for the hope that is in us." He has a right to demand of us that we show the system to be probably true before we ask him to risk wealth, fame or pleasure or as many have done, life itself in accepting it. Now there are two kinds of evidence or proof: the demon- strative, and the moral. Mathematics furnishes the best examples of the former, natural and historical science are full of examples of the latter. The two differ in the nature of the conviction which is wrought in the human mind. In the mathematical demonstration the inference is a necessary one. The premises being given, the mind has no alternative, but must accept the conclusion. In a chain of such reasoning, nothing is conclusive until you reach a certain clinching point, and then it is done. There is no proof at all until it is com- pleted and then there can be no controversy. All doubt and questioning are forever at rest. All such conclusions are of equal certainty. But every one must know that there are few practical affairs to which this method of proof is possible. In business, in politics, in industry of every kind men seek in vain for demonstration. One bases all his action on the prob- able. The most that can be said of the contingencies on which he risks fortune and life itself is that they are very probable. When we undertake to argue from the some of the past to the all of the present or future, we have a syllogism with a particular sumption from which no conclusion can be drawn. Con- clusions based on an induction can never be absolutely and necessarily certain, for, as one has said, "they can never be quite purged from the uncertainty of the major premise." Have we then any rational ground for action following such reasoning? Yes. Arguments based on carefully made induc- tions work in the mind every degree of persuasion of truth from the faintest apprehension to a conviction of certainty, such as we have in the return of the seasons, or like our con- THE DEGREE OF PROOF 239 fidence in a long-tried friend. The man who would refuse to act in the most serious affairs on a carefully guarded induction, insisting on demonstration, might well be thought insane. It is folly to insist on demonstration in those matters which only admit of inductive conclusions. The "Evidences of Christianity" is an inductive study. It is an historical science. We candidly admit that if one is looking for demonstration he will not find it. The authori- tative character of Christianity is an inference from a group of facts occurring in time which facts are to be attested as other facts of history are attested. We can never demonstrate an historical fact. We can place it beyond a reasonable doubt; sometimes beyond any doubt reasonable or otherwise, but not beyond the possibility of a question. A man has a right to demand of us that we furnish such a degree of proof that to believe is more rational than to doubt. More than that we cannot do, and should not claim to do. Just that much and no more we hope to do in our study of Christian Evidences. An attempt has been made to turn the force of inductive science against us in this manner: " It is contrary to experience that a miracle should occur; it is not contrary to experience that testimony should be false." It sounds plausible, but try it. Contrary to whose experience forsooth? Contrary to my experience indeed, but if we may believe them not contrary to the experience of Peter and John. But "it is not contrary to experience that testimony should be false." What testimony? Some or all? If the objector means some testimony, the argument proves nothing; if he means all testimony his saying is not true, and as to the particular testimony in mind, so far as we know, it is not in human experience that any testimony given as this was given has ever been shown to be false. We shall show that if the first witnesses to the origin of Christianity lied they were a phenomenal set of liars. In no case elsewhere have such been found. CHAPTER XI RIVAL HYPOTHESES AS TO THE ORIGIN OF CHRISTIANITY CERTAIN facts in regard to Christianity are undisputed. There was a time when the system did not exist. It is in the world to-day. An attempt to explain its origin is as truly scientific as a like attempt to explain the origin of any other event in history. Its adherents defend themselves against the charge of superstition by affirming the truth of certain narratives embodied in the common portions of their various creeds. These narratives form what for brevity we call the Gospel story. Now it is scientific to examine that story, to trace it back as far as we can, to note whether it has remained the same in all places and times, or whether at any time it has received accretions and to determine to what extent it is credible. If it is found credible it is scientific to note here a cause of the events in Christian history. If the story is found to be false, it would be the appropriate task of the scientific historian to prove its falsity, and to publish the facts in regard to it. It would be incumbent upon him also to find, if possible, the manner in which such a fraud was perpetrated. The possible hypotheses as to the origin of Christianity are not very numerous. They may be briefly and concisely stated as follows: (1) We have the hypothesis of the truth of the essent portions of the Gospel story. Of course if the story is true we have an adequate cause of the social effects of its prc mulgation. (2) We have the hypothesis of falsehood in either few many of the essential portions of the Gospel story. Tl divides itself into several sub-heads as myth, legend or a pui to intentionally deceive may be supposed to have swayed the 240 RIVAL HYPOTHESES 241 minds of the early devotees of the Christian system. It is in place at this point to define and distinguish myth and legend. A legend is a gradual and unconscious embellishment or modification of history in the interest, real or supposed, of philosophy, morality, religion, or patriotism. A myth is formed for the same purposes as a legend, but differs from it in that it has no historic basis at all. It is wholly the outgrowth of an idea, and myth makers create the story out of their own imaginations. Familiar examples of this distinction suggest themselves in the story of George Washington and his little hatchet, which is legendary, and the story of Santa Claus, which is a myth pure and simple. Either a legend or a myth may come to be accepted as history, but some lapse of time is necessary if the fiction have any considerable magnitude. Now, we may suppose Jesus himself a myth. We may class him with such Grecian heroes as Hercules, and suppose the story of his life a pure fabrication; or we may suppose a man of that name to have lived and taught at the time when he is said to have lived but that after his death marvelous deeds, never heard of during his life, were attributed to him, and that the story of his life which we now have grew up about his memory: or we may suppose a case of intentional deception, either that Jesus was himself an impostor and deceived his disciples, or that the disciples were willful forgers of lies, which they palmed off on the multitude for facts. These rival hypotheses may, perhaps, be best seen in tabulated form: o g TRUTH 'OR FALSEHOOD Fraud Delusion By Jesus, his Apostles, or both, in which case they were impostors. By some unknown writers who were forgers of the present Gospel records. Of Jesus, or his Apostles, or both, in which case theywere insane enthusiasts. Of the whole Christian church in some post-apostolic age, being legend or myth duped. CHAPTER XII THE FOUNDER OF CHRISTIANITY IS NOT A MYTHICAL PERSONAGE ALTHOUGH the mythical and legendary theories as to the origin of Christianity may for most purposes be considered together, there are a few considerations which apply with special force to the theory that Jesus is a myth. To suppose that Jesus never lived, involves as great a marvel as to suppose that he lived and did the things ascribed to him. Mythical heroes are located indefinitely in time and space. In all the range of mythology we find no case of a mythical personage said to appear at a definite place, at a definite time during the life of the men among whom the story of his appear- ance originated. Myths are located in the past so far as the writer has read, in the uncertain and remote past. The received story of the origin of Christianity is very circum- stantial as to its founder's time and place of living. He was born in Bethlehem, in the days of Herod the king. His public ministry begins in the fifteenth year of Tiberius Caesar. He dies at Jerusalem under the accusation of the priests of his own nation, and under sentence of Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor. It is without parallel that a myth should thus, keep company with so many men of flesh and blood. The framers of myths have been more circumspect in the location of their heroes. It would be at great risk that I would assert the existence of the pure creation of my brain at any definite time and place. But to parallel the supposed audacity of the first teachers of Christianity, I must locate my man of straw within my own lifetime and that of the men whom I presume to instruct. And, further, provoking for myself and my hero the most intense hate and bitter opposition during my lifetime, by some unaccountable infatuation, not one of my enemies of 242 JESUS NOT A MYTHICAL PERSONAGE 243 my own generation attempts to question the veritable existence of my hero at the time and place I have assigned him. The opponents of Christianity during the century following the death of Jesus left in writing numerous references to his life and not one of them calls in question the verity of his existence at the time and place set forth by his adherents. Josephus, a contemporary Jewish historian, mentions Jesus as living at the time claimed. The Roman writers, Juvenal, Suetonius, and Tacitus, all mention (unfavorably it is true) the remarkable spreading of Christianity, as a delusion of their times. How readily they would have exposed the fictitious character of its founder could they have done so. A paragraph from Tacitus which will be quoted more fully later, has in it one sentence which is in place here. Tacitus wrote in about the year 100 of our era, of the great fire in Rome, in A.D. 64. He is dis- cussing the effort of Nero to clear himself of the charge of having for his own amusement set the city on fire, and of his effort to fasten the blame on the Christians. He says: "The founder of this name was Christ, who suffered death in the reign of Tiberius under his procurator Pontius Pilate." Evi- dently during the first century of the Christian faith it was undisputed that the founder was one Christ, that he lived and taught in Judea, and died in the reign of Tiberius under sentence of Pilate his governor. Admitting that I can induce a credulous people to believe in the existence among them of the simple creation of my brain, there remains a harder problem still. It must be believed that my enemies have the stupidity to concede the historic reality of my hero. It will yet be in order for the critic to insist on the legendary character of the account of Jesus, given us by his friends, that they may have modified and embellished history, that they may have created some stories about their hero, but the hero himself they did not create. Jesus is not a myth. He is an historic man. The accounts given of him are to be examined as to their uncor- rupted preservation, as you would examine any reputed history. If we find that these accounts, marvelous as they are, are the original stories told by the first teachers of Christianity, then 244 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE we must face the question of their credibility; and we will not ask any man to believe them unless that after investigation it appear a more rational thing to believe than to deny them. Before entering on the consideration of the legendary theory a few words are in place as to the sources of our evidence of the trustworthiness of the Gospel story. All persons claiming to be original witnesses of the events pertaining to the origin of Christianity have long been dead. In any attempt which we make to ascertain the truth as to those events we are shut up to the same methods which the students of history use in their study of events, whose original witnesses are dead. If I wish to ascertain the facts as to the battle of Shiloh several courses are open to me. I may go to the library and read what I may there find; but I have the further opportunity to go down here on the street and converse with men and women who were living when the reports of such a battle originated. They are able to tell me whether my reading in the library agrees with what they heard with their ears on those April days of 1862. Moreover, a few men are still living who were there; and to them I may submit my report for verification or correction. If, however, I inquire as to the battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill, my opportunities are confined to the written record, for the original witnesses are all dead and you will search long before you find a man who ever heard a word spoken by one of them. Observe that we are in no doubt, however, as to the correctness of the account of the battle of Lexington. A story long or short, reduced to writing during the lifetime of its witnesses and standing the test of criticism during their generation, is a fixture in history. No sane man would think of questioning the credibility of the accepted account of the battle of Lexington, the siege of York- town or the surrender of Cornwallis any more than he would of disputing the story of Shiloh, or of the surrender of Lee at Appomattox. Nor will any further lapse of time diminish the confidence with which men will receive those accounts. We are no less certain of the events of the English revolution than we are of our own. Men will always differ in their estimate JESUS NOT A MYTHICAL PERSONAGE 245 of the character of Oliver Cromwell, but the story of the events in which he and his Ironsides bore so prominent a part will be read with undiminished confidence a thousand years from now. As Christian apologists we bring forward the contents of certain old books, which purport to contain the observations of the original witnesses of the facts, pertaining to the origin of Christianity. In this discussion we lay aside for the time every claim to any particular sanctity for these books. They are submitted for criticism, as to their genuineness, authen- ticity, and the good faith of their authors. They are to stand on their merits; and as a record of facts observed and inter- preted by their authors, they are entitled to the same treatment which we give to other ancient books such as Caesar's Com- mentaries or Xenophon's Memorabilia. Our testimony is direct and collateral. The direct testimony is contained in the four narratives of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, each purporting to give an account of some of the facts in the ministry of Jesus, current among his followers, in that generation in which Jesus lived. Our collateral testimony is of two kinds: (i) Incidental references to Jesus and his ch'sciples by Jewish and Roman writers of the century including and following the death of Jesus. We should not expect these references to be numerous, extended or favorable to Christianity, yet we may find them to have an important bearing on some facts under discussion. (2) We have a collection of ancient books: The Acts of the Apostles, and the Epistles. The Book of Acts purports to give an account of the preaching of the Gospel in various parts of the Roman world during the lifetime of the generation to which Jesus belonged. The Epistles are letters addressed to different persons and churches by several of the Apostles of Jesus. They are of use to us, not as proof of the truth of the gospel story, but as showing what was the character of the story current in the Christian churches in the middle of the first century. We might expect that the enemies of Christianity would demand that we purge these books from the suspicion of fictitious composition, similar to that which 246 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE they attach to the Gospels themselves; yet of some of them the genuineness has never been seriously questioned. Evidently there are two questions which may be raised about the testimony of any witness: i. To what does the witness testify? 2. What degree of credit is to be given to his testimony? Under the latter question we consider both the competency and veracity of the witness. We examine everything bearing on his disposition to speak the truth. We inquire also as to his opportunity to know the things of which he would testify. Applying these principles to the Gospel story before we can pass judgment on its credibility, we must deter- mine whether the story which we now have is the one originally told, or whether it is of legendary origin. Is the story of the origin of Christianity contained in these four books the one which the first disciples of Jesus proclaimed when they went from place to place urging men to believe in Jesus Christ and to be baptized in his name? If it is not: that is if it is a materi- ally different story; if its central incidents are things that the original disciples of Jesus did not say; if these incidents are the inventions and interpolations of a succeeding age, then we may and should dismiss the whole matter. If, for example, the men of that generation in which Jesus died heard nothing of his resurrection, we need not spend a moment in the considera- tion of any account of it invented and circulated in succeeding generations. Such an account should be relegated to the realm of pure fiction. But if we find that the story which we now have is the one first told; if it appear to be an imcor- rupted statement of what those intimate companions of Jesus professed to have seen and heard, then there remains for us the examination of the competence and integrity of these witnesses. What is the probability that they bring us a correct report? In short, is the story true? CHAPTER XIII WAS THE WHOLE CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT SOME TIME LEGEND-DUPED? THE suggestion of such a possibility sends us to inquire at what time, if at all, this duping occurred. This theory asserts that our present Gospel records of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John do not give the original Christian story; that they contain material accretions which have been added by a marvel loving people. For example, Jesus did not have a miraculous birth nor was such a thing claimed for him. He did not multiply the loaves and fishes, nor did the disciples ever claim that he did. Most important of all, Jesus did not rise from the dead nor did the first Christian preachers claim that he had. Each of these stories is a legend which has been added to the original and more natural account of the simple and pure-minded Jewish peasant. The original story then is what we desire to find, and there is no more natural procedure in such an investi- gation than to follow back the story which we now have, and find when and where any of its incidents are added to pre- existing material. We could do this century by century. For example, suppose it were asserted that the account had received important additions during the last century. We might fairly challenge the party so asserting to show what had been added and to prove when it had been done. But we will do better than that. We will undertake that difficult thing in judicial procedure. We will prove the negative. And for this we have abundant material at our command: (i) There is in the city where this is written an old leather bound, worn and ragged copy of the Scriptures, bearing the imprint of an Edinburgh publishing house, in the year 1796. In it you will find each of the four Gospels in the same place which it occupies in the copies now being run from the presses of the American 247 248 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE Bible Society. Further: examine any one of those Gospels and you will find every incident, every parable, and the account of every miracle in the identical place which it holds in your vest pocket testament. Indeed, barring typographical errors and a few small variations in translation, it is a verbatim et literatim copy. In the face of this no one will affirm that the Gospel story has received any accretion during the last one hundred years. (2) But we would not be devoid of means of investigation if there were no old copies of the English Bible at hand. About one hundred years ago the Bible was trans- lated into several Asiatic tongues, and has been in use in those languages and in those countries ever since. Now nothing but collusion with fraudulent purpose (which is not the pres- ent hypothesis) could cause simultaneous variations in two languages. But take a copy of the Hindustani or Chinese Bible and compare the Gospels as there found with the present English version and you have proven by another method that the Gospel story has received no material addition during the last century. (3) Let every copy of the Scriptures in every language every copy except your pocket Bible be de- stroyed to-night. You look inquiringly at that copy which you hold in your hand and ask: "Have I any way by which I may assure myself that the Gospel story contained herein is the same which was in circulation one hundred years ago?" Most certainly you have. John Witherspoon, John Wesley, and Jonathan Edwards left a voluminous literature. It is easily proven that they had the same Gospel story, because they quote it. There is not a Gospel incident on which some one of them did not write a sermon. There is not a chapter on which some one of them did not write a commentary. Every one will admit that each one of these methods is a fair one. Any one of them is a proper method of pushing back the supposed additions to the Gospel story. How far can we push them back? We answer that by each and every one of the methods indicated you can push back the possi- bility of any accretions to the Gospel story into the early part of the fourth century, as far certainly as the Council of Nice CHRISTIAN CHURCH LEGEND-DUPED? 249 in A. D. 325. An example of the proof from translations is in the Latin version called the Vulgate, published in A. D. 405. Remember too that the narrative which we there read in Latin is the very same account as that contained in the English Revised Version, translated from the original Greek and pub- lished nearly fifteen hundred years later. Very credulous, indeed, would he appear who could believe that the same legends could have grown in Greek, Latin, and English at the same rate. The proceedings of the Council of Nice as well as the Nicene creed itself are certain testimony to the current acceptance of the Gospel story at that time in its present form. There are, moreover, two manuscript copies of the New Testa- ment unquestionably belonging to that century which are considered of ultimate authority in questions relating to the form of the original text. As we go back from the fourth century we have not so many kinds of proof. As to manuscripts they are few, frag- mentary, and there is sometimes uncertainty in their identifi- cation, but we have left us the quotations and references made by the Christian Fathers, in their published writings from the originals of which numerous copies were made in the succeed- ing centuries. We do not claim any Divine authority for the patristic writings. We do not indorse all their theology or philosophy, nor approve everything in their lives. We shall expect that they will sometimes be found quoting the Gospels in defense of erroneous theories. For the purpose of our investigation it matters not; the quotation proves the form of the Gospel story which was in existence and accessible to the writers at the time of their writing. The authors to whom we call attention are among those whose work is unquestioned. They themselves are quoted by other writers in every century until the Reformation. Observe also this fact: while their writings do establish the early collection of the books of the New Testament into one volume, that collection is not the fact for which we inquire. The existence of a book containing a story is proof of the existence of the story, but the story is older than any one book, of course older than a collection of 2so STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE books, and it is the original form of the story which we wish to ascertain. The first teachers of Christianity did not go about carrying a newly written book. They did not begin their work by writing a book, though Mohammed, Joseph Smith, and Mrs. Eddy would seem to have thought that they did. We repeat the first teachers of Christianity did not begin their work by writing a book; they simply went about telling a story of events of which they claimed to have been eye and ear witnesses. We wish to find what that story was. Was it the one which we now have? Was it the one which the authors of the monographs of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John say they told or was it another? It may help us in our study to present the problem graphically: Let the line t-t' represent the time from the beginning of our era until the year 1900. On this line to any convenient scale lay off the centuries. From t lay off thirty-three years. In that year Jesus died and the propagation of Christianity began. Here was the original Gospel story; and as our objector insists that it is an uncertain quantity, at any rate that it differed from the present one, we will designate that unknown original story by the letter x placed at A. D. 33. Designate the present story as found in the first four books of the New Testament by the letter a, placed at the other end of the line at A. D. 1900. Now our problem is to bring x and a together; to compare them and to see whether x equals a. As we have already seen we are assured that there have been no changes in the present accepted story since the time of the Nicene Council. No critic will object to our moving a back to A. D. 325. But there would be some time during which the first teachers of Christianity would continue to tell the original story. We will, therefore, be warranted in moving x somewhat forward. How much? Some would say until the death of the Apostle John in A. D. 98, but as we wish to be on perfectly safe ground we will place it within the lifetime of the contemporaries of CHRISTIAN CHURCH LEGEND-DUPED? 251 Jesus at A. D. 75. Our quest is then confined to a period of two hundred and fifty years, from A. D. 75 to A. D. 325. This is the period within which are found the writings of the men known as the Ante-Nicene Fathers. In this discussion our references to volumes and pages are to an edition published by the Scribners. The translations were made by eminent classical scholars and bear the marks of painstaking care. As we have already indicated, there is no dispute about the existence of the whole New Testament, including the four Gospels, in its present form at the time of the Council of Nice. No one claims that these books originated then. Evidently our story "a" will be projected backward some years. It is difficult to say how far, but we do not believe it necessary to burden the discussion with a detailed examination of the writings of the men of the years immediately preceding that Council. Had the Gospel story been undergoing change within their recollection that fact would certainly have been noted and discussed by some of that body of devout but remark- ably contentious men. If we find our story still farther back we may spare ourselves the minute search for it in the years immediately preceding the meeting of the Council. If, how- ever, any one wishes to examine minutely " every inch of ground," he will find numerous quotations from the Gospels in the works of Alexander of Alexandria (273-326), in a letter also of one Arnobius written somewhere between the years 297 and 326, and in the voluminous writings of Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage, who suffered martyrdom in that city in A. D. 258. CHAPTER XIV TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY THE first author we will examine minutely is Origen. This famous, divine philosopher, teacher, and preacher was born in Alexandria in A. D. 185, and died in Tyre in A. D. 254. His father was a Greek named Leonides, a man of some wealth and learning, who spent his time as a teacher of grammar and rhetoric in some of the schools of Alexandria for which that city of Grecian culture was then famous. Leonides was a Christian, and besides instructing his son in Greek philosophy, required him daily to commit to memory portions of the Christian Scriptures. The boy, like many another inquisitive child, made his father much trouble by inquiring for the deeper meaning of portions of the Prophets and Epistles. It is said that the patience of Leonides was sorely tried, and yet father- like he secretly rejoiced in the spirit of independent and original inquiry manifested by his talented son. The questioning of the boy seemed to fix rather than to shake his faith, for, when on the breaking out of a season of persecution, Leonides was thrown into prison from which he was soon after brought out to execution, Origen, then only seventeen years old, was with difficulty restrained by his mother from acting . with such rashness as to bring on himself his father's fate. From this time he grew in influence in the Christian community. This is not a biography, so we will not follow his life of service in his native city, in Greece, in Palestine, and in Tyre. He was a very voluminous writer. Only a portion of his works has been preserved, yet the English translation of that portion fills four hundred and thirty-two large pages. His chief work was a reply to Celsus, a Greek author who from the standpoint of a Jew had written an attack on Christianity. The Jews have not preserved the work of Celsus, but Christians 252 TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY 253 have preserved Origen's reply, and from it a pretty good idea of the work of Celsus may be obtained. We do not know the date of the attack of Celsus, but, from the manner in which Origen speaks of him, he evidently belonged to a generation older than his critic. The argument is a very extended one, and Wright well remarks: "So exhaustive was the treatment that unbelievers since have done little but rehabilitate the argument of Celsus. And defenders of the faith in most cases can do little better than reiterate the answers of Origen." It is worthy of note that while Celsus disputes the credibility of the Gospel story, he does not attack its genuineness. For example he disputes the story of the resurrection, because such a thing could not occur, but he does not call in question the apostolic origin of the story. Celsus is sometimes quoted by Origen in a manner which shows him to have been acquainted with the Gospel narrative. Celsus knew that miraculous powers were ascribed to Jesus and shows no suspicion of the existence of an earlier story from which the miraculous features were lacking. He has heard the story of the sojourn in Egypt, and supposes Jesus to have remained there long enough to have learned Egyptian magic, as we read that he "there acquired some miraculous powers on which the Egyptians greatly pride themselves"; that he then "returned to his own country highly elated on account of them, and by means of these proclaimed himself a god." It would thus appear that at the time of Celsus Christians were claiming that Jesus had wrought miracles, and it seemed easier to the enemies of the faith to admit the phenomena and account for them on the hypothesis of magic than to attempt a denial of the phenomena. But such a denial would have been their most effective pro- cedure had there been any tradition of an earlier and wholly naturalistic account of the life of Jesus. Celsus is aware of the Christian claim of the supernatural birth of Jesus, as he imagines a Jew in conversation with Jesus charging him with having "invented your birth from a virgin." Clearly the doctrine of the virgin birth had been taught before the time of Celsus. This same Jew, in another place, is represented as 254 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE saying: "What need moreover was there that you, while still an infant, should be conveyed into Egypt? Was it to escape being murdered? But then it was not likely that a God should be afraid of death, and yet an angel came down from heaven commanding you and your friends to flee lest ye should be captured and put to death." Celsus may not have believed the second chapter of Matthew, but he was aware of its contents. In Origen's works as we have them, there are from Matthew one hundred and forty-six quotations, from Mark ten, from Luke forty-four, from John one hundred and five. These quotations are from twenty-six of Matthew's twenty-eight chapters, eight of Mark's sixteen, nineteen of Luke's twenty- four, and nineteen of John's twenty-one. He makes quotations also from ten different chapters of Acts. The Epistles are familiar to him. His quotations from them are numerous and sometimes extended. They are made from Romans, First Corinthians, Secpnd Corinthians, Gallatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, First and Second Thessalonians, First and Second Timothy, Titus, Hebrews, James, First Peter, First John, Jude, and Revelation. The student may verify the following quotations from the Gospels: Vol. IV. Page 243 John 4:20-24 Page 395 Matt. 27:11-14 260 Matt. $ ru-ss 390 Matt. 7:22 269 Matt. 279 Matt. 22:12-13 280 Matt. 12:35 281 Matt. 11:27 281 John 21:25 282 Matt. 26:38 283 John 8:46, 283 John 14:30 284 Luke i : 399 Matt. 7:22 418 Matt. 2:6 419 John 7:42 419 Matt. 28:13-14 423 John 18:36 424 Luke 5 :8 431 431 Mark i :i-2 432 John 13:8 389 Matt. 26:29-38 432 Luke 22:27 394 John 10:3 435 Matt. 27 :3~5 394 Luke 1 1 19 460 Matt. 28:1-9 395 Matt. 26:59-63 As showing the easy familiarity with which he appeals to the Gospel records and the naturalness with which his quota- tions are made, read a paragraph on page 456: "Jesus accord- ingly, as Celsus imagines, exhibited after his death only the TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY 255 appearance of wounds received on the cross and was not in reality so wounded as he is described to have been. Whereas according to the teaching of the Gospel (some portions of which Celsus accepts and other parts of which he rejects) Jesus called to him one of his disciples who was sceptical, and who deemed the miracle an impossibility and, therefore, he did not merely say 'unless I see I will not believe, but added ' Unless I put my hand into the print of the nails and lay my hand upon his side I will not believe ' Jesus accordingly called Thomas and said ' Reach hither thy finger and behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand and thrust it into my side, and be not faithless but believing.' " While verifying the above references there will be discovered numerous other quotations from the Gospels. Quotations from the other books of the New Testament also appear on nearly every page. The following are examples: Page 261 Eph. 4:13 Page 273 Rom. 1 11-4 261 I Cor. 1:10 279 I Pet. 3:18-21 " 273 Heb. 9:26 " 286 I John 2:1-2 " 273 Acts 7 " 456 I Cor. 15:3-8 (large part of the chapter) 388 Heb. 11:37 It will be observed in this last reference that there was even then a dispute about the authorship of the Epistle to the Hebrews. From these lists of quotations which could easily have been extended, it is clear that Origen was acquainted with the Gospel story as we now have it, and it is of almost equal significance that he does not appear to have ever heard of any rival story. Further, that story had long before been reduced to writing in the four forms in which the Christian world now has it. He was also familiar with what we have called the collateral evidences of the antiquity of the Gospel story; the epistles of Paul, John, and Peter are familiar to him. He quotes them with the same deference and respect which a preacher of the present day would show for them. Now in a church where the New Testament was in circulation no one could thrust a new book into the New Testament canon without the knowledge of a fifteen-year-old boy. Remember, too, that 256 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE Origen is a defender of the faith in which he had been instructed in childhood and for which his father had died a martyr. Everything combines to cause him to guard jealously the tra- ditions which he had received. We are safely on the ground of historic certainty when we say that before the year two hundred of our era the books which compose the New Testa- ment as we have it had been written, collected, published, and circulated, and by the general consent of the churches were accepted as authoritative. Whatever legend duping may have been, occurred before A. D. 200, for neither the Gospel story as contained in the four Gospels, nor the other books of the New Testament have received any material alteration since that time. We are certainly justified in moving "a" back to A. D. 200. The life of Titus Flavius Clemens, better known as Clement of Alexandria, cannot be as circumstantially written as that of some other authors. The time of his birth has been indefi- nitely assigned to somewhere between the years A. D. 150 and A. D. 1 60. It is related that on embracing the Christian faith he traveled extensively over Greece, Italy, Palestine, and Egypt. Returning to Alexandria he took the place of Pantaenus at the head of the Catechetical school in A. D. 189, having the boy Origen as one of his pupils. Evidently his testimony to the character of the Gospel story will carry us to a period antedating Origen. His writings are extensive and important. He wrote both prose and verse. One of his lyrics " Shepherd of Tender Youth" has been translated into almost every language in which the Gospel has been preached. It will be found as number 672 in the Methodist Hymnal. The most important of his works are "The Exhortation to the Heathen," "The Instructor," and "The Miscellanies." The first of these as its name would indicate is addressed to pagan readers and deals largely with the absurdities of idolatry. When we remember that Paul on Mars Hill took his text from a heathen altar, and quoted the Greek poets, we need not be surprised that in this work Biblical quotations are rare, and those from the Greek classics numerous. The other works are addressed TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY 257 to Christians, and quotations from both the Old and New Testament are found on nearly every page. We find in the writings of Clement one hundred and ninety-seven quotations from Matthew, twenty-six from Mark, one hundred and four from Luke, and eighty-three from John. These quotations are from twenty-five of Matthew's twenty-eight chapters, twelve of Mark's sixteen, twenty-one of Luke's twenty-four, and eighteen of John's twenty-one. He also quotes largely from Acts, from Revelation, and from all the Epistles except Philemon, and Second and Third John. The reader may verify the following in Vol. II. Page 212 John 21:4-5 Page 232 Luke 10:22 212 Matt. 19:14 232 Matt. 11:28 212 Matt. 18:3 212 Matt. 23:37 212 John 13:33 216 John 5:24 216 John 6:40 217 Luke 10:21 221 John 4 -.3 2-34 226 John 15:1-2 232 Matt, ii 13-6 234 John 10:11 238 Luke 14:12-16 239 Matt. 15:11 241 Matt. 22:21 241 Luke 24:41-44 574 Mark 14:62 584 Luke 9:55 591 Matt. 19:24 592 Mark 10:30-31 On pages 571-577 will be found quite a full commentary on the Epistles of First Peter, Jude, and First John. We may verify also a few quotations from the Acts and the Epistles of Paul. Page 321 Acts 17 12 2-28 Page 436 Rom. 5 13-5 321 Acts 26:17-18 429 I Cor. 13:7 335 Acts 5 :i-io 429 I Cor. 13 11-3 241 Acts 10:10-15 314 I Cor. 15:32-33 444 Rom. 1:11-12 374 I Cor. 15:50 444 Rom. 4:3 340 ' I Tim. 1 15-8 We will next examine an author partly contemporary with Clement, but living and working in a far removed portion of the empire. Tertullian was born at Carthage in A. D. 145. It is claimed that he lived to the age of ninety-five, dying in A.D. 240. His life was divided between Carthage and Rome, and the church at Rome seems to have grown rapidly during his ministry 258 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE there. His temperament led him into fanaticism, and his later years were spent in fellowship with the sect known as the Motanists, but the genuineness of his works has never been questioned, and they have been studied with confidence in all succeeding ages by heretic and Catholic alike. He quotes from each of the Gospels: from Matthew four hundred and fifty-three times, from Mark seventy-nine times, from Luke five hundred and twenty-two times, and from John two hundred and fifty-six times. These quotations are from every chapter of Matthew, from fifteen chapters of Mark, and from every chapter in Luke and John. He also quotes from each of the Epistles except Philemon, and makes eighty-four quotations from twenty-three chapters of Acts. In Vol. IV the student may verify the following quotations and in doing so will observe many others equally striking. Page 95 Luke 12:57 Page 253 John 19:26-27 216 Matt. 17:12 216 Matt. 11:14 245 Matt. 7:15 247 Luke 16:29 247 John 5:39 247 Matt. 15:24 247 Matt. 28:19 247 John 16:13 253 Mark 4:34 374 Luke 7:1-10 376 Luke 7:26-28 377 Matt. 12:48 377 Luke 10:25 377 Luke 8:16-18 422 Luke 24:3-4 422 Luke 24:25 422 Luke 24:37-39 422 Luke 24:41 253 Matt. 16:18 These last two references, it will be observed, are from Luke's account of the resurrection. To appreciate fully their force one should read all of pages 422-423, and all of the twenty- fourth chapter of Luke. Tertullian must have been acquainted also with Matthew's account, for on page 676 he quotes Matthew's version of the gr,eat commission, Matt. 28:19. We also find him, on page 621, quoting the words of Jesus to Mary Magdalene after his resurrection as given in John 20:17. Evi- dently he must have been familiar with John's account of the resurrection. Let us read from pages 521 and 522, bearing in mind the doctrine that Tertullian was combating. We have here a remarkable example of reference as forceful as direct quotation: TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY 259 "Marcion in order that he might deny the flesh of Christ, denied also his nativity, or else he denied his flesh in order that he might deny his nativity. Clearly enough is the nativity announced by Gabriel. But what has he to do with the Creator's angel? The conception in the Virgin's womb is plainly set forth before us. But what concern has he with the Creator's prophet Isaiah? He will not brook delay, since suddenly without any prophetic announcement did he bring Christ down from heaven. 'Away,' says he 'with that eternal plaguy taxing of Caesar, and the scanty inn and the squalid swaddling clothes and the hard stable. We do not care a jot for that multitude of the heavenly host which praised their Lord at night. Let the shepherds take better care of their flocks, and let the wise men spare their legs so long a journey; let them keep their gold to themselves. Let Herod, too, mend his manners so that Jeremiah may not glory over him. Spare the babe also from circumcision that he may escape the pain thereof; nor let him be brought into the temple lest he burden his parents with the expense of the offerings. Nor let him be handed to old Simeon lest the old man be saddened at the point of death. Let that old woman also hold her tongue lest she should bewitch the child.'" Tertullian then continues in reply: "After such a fashion as this, O Marcion, I suppose you have had the hardihood of blotting out the original records of the history of Christ, that his flesh may lose the proofs of its reality. But on what grounds do you do this? Show me your authority. If you are a prophet, foretell us a thing; if you are an Apostle, open your message in public; if a follower of the Apostles, side with the Apostles in thought. If you are only a private Christian, believe what has been handed down to us. If, however, you are nothing of all these (as I have the best reason to say) cease to live. For, indeed, you are already dead, since you are no Christian, because you do not believe that which by being believed makes men Chris- tian." Reading this summary of Marcion's teaching, one can almost imagine himself reading a magazine article by one of our modern "liberal" theologians; reading Tertullian's reply 260 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE he can fancy himself listening to the answer by an "orthodox" divine. At this point we are not at all interested in the merits of the controversy. We are not concerned at this time with the credibility of the story of the "Virgin birth" but with its antiquity. We are simply following back the Gospel story in order to find when, if at all, it has received the accretions which it has been charged have attached to the original. The accepted story of the nativity is one of the portions most frequently named by critics as being legendary. But if so it is clear that the legend makers had done their work and " escaped " before the time of Tertullian, as in this particular nothing has been added since his time. To Tertullian the accounts of Matthew and Luke are parts of "what has been handed down to us." More than this, such legend corruption must have antedated the time of Marcion. Each item in the accounts of Matthew and Luke, as we have seen, he holds up to derision. He attacks their credibility as inconsistent with his philosophy, but does not question their antiquity or apostolic origin. Evidently these passages were universally conceded portions of Matthew and Luke in his day. It is clear that Tertullian was familiar with a collection of books essentially those of our New Testament. It is also clear that he does not show any knowledge of any other and older story of the origin of Christianity than that contained in the four Gospels. He believes that it is the original and apostolic account. If we suppose that "x" is not the same as "a" but that "x" has given place to "a" either by means of a forgery or by legendary growth at any time after Tertullian's coming to years of understanding, we must believe that he would have observed the commotion which a change would surely have created in church circles. If we suppose that, as a boy, he had learned "x," we cannot suppose him after he was fifteen years old to have received a different story and to have believed it to be the original apostolic story. There is another circumstance worthy to be mentioned here. Clement and Tertullian belong pratically to the same period. We prove little by one which is not proven by the other. But is it not TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY 261 an important circumstance that they represent such widely separated churches? Clement is at Alexandria, Tertullian is at Rome and Carthage. If there are legendary accretions to the original story, these legends have grown at the same rate in these widely separated places and have not grown by the addition of a single incident since. There was at this time no central authority to enforce uniformity in either doctrine or practice, and yet during the ministry of Clement and Tertullian we have this Gospel story "a" accepted and believed to be of apostolic origin, by the churches at Carthage, Rome, and Alexandria. Not only so, but whatever of discord may have attended the substitution of "a" for "x" has sub- sided, and although the churches are rent by fierce disputes over many things there remains absolutely no trace of a story earlier than "a" or differing from it in the slightest particular. Further, we find Tertullian holding up for the scorn of the Christian church, the heretic Marcion (who was a teacher at Rome about A.D. 140). He charges him with having mutilated the Gospel of Luke, and with having ignored or rejected the other Gospels. They must have existed in Marcion's time, else he could not have been thus subject to censure. We believe there would be warrant on the examination of Ter- tullian for asserting that our present Gospels existed in their present form in the churches in A. D. 140, but as we have two other witnesses by whom we expect to show an even greater age for them, we will at present only carry "a" back to a time for which Tertullian' s testimony is an unquestionable voucher, say to A. D. 160. CHAPTER XV TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY CONTINUED OUR next author is Irenaeus. This man was born in Syria, probably about the year one hundred and twenty of our era. In early life he was a disciple of Polycarp at Smyrna, and after- ward was sent by him as a missionary to Gaul, where he was associated with Pothinus at Lyons, and on the death of Pothinus in A. D. 177 he became bishop of that see, and held that office until his death near the close of that century. His writings are not as numerous as those of Tertullian or of Origen, but they are of intense interest. His principal work is usually referred to as "Irenaeus against Heresies," but he did not give it that title. He called his work "A Refutation of Knowledge Falsely So-called." He quotes from each of the Gospels: from Matthew, one hundred and eighty-two times from twenty- eight chapters; from Mark, eighteen times from eleven chapters; from Luke, one hundred and twenty-six times from twenty-two chapters; and from John, eighty-seven times from eighteen chapters. He also quotes from the Acts and from every Epistle except Philemon. The following are sample quotations from Matthew, Mark, and John: Page 422 Matt. 3 :; Page 442 Mark 8:31 423 Matt. 2:2 " 446 Matt. 16:13-17 426 Mark 16:19 " 539 John 5:28-29 423 John 2:25 " 547 John 1:12-13 427 Johni:6 560 Matt. 8:11 427 John 1:14 " 560 John 20:17 441 Mark 1:1 We have purposely omitted quotations from Luke from this list because we wished to make Irenaeus' use of that Gospel a matter of special consideration. In our discussion of Tertullian we learned that the heretic Marcion was charged with mutilating the Gospel of Luke and with the rejection of the others. It 262 TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY 263 would seem that in the time of Irenaeus there were those who depreciated Luke because he was not one of the twelve. There is a chapter in which he argues with such persons that we wish to read, for although there are but few direct quotations, the references to incidents recorded by Luke alone are so plain and numerous that this one chapter alone will prove beyond question that the Gospel of Luke existed even then in its present form. We quote Vol. i , Chapter 3 on page 438 : "Now if any man set Luke aside as one who did not know the truth, he will manifestly reject that Gospel of which he claims to be a disciple, for through him we have become acquainted with very many and important parts of the Gospel: for instance the generation of John, the history of Zacharias, the coming of the angel to Mary, the exclamation of Elizabeth, the descent of the angel to the shepherds, the words spoken by them, the testimony of Anna and of Simeon with regard to the Christ, and that at twelve years of age he was left behind at Jerusalem. Also the baptism of John, the number of our Lord's years when he was baptized, and that this occurred in the fifteenth year of Tiberius Caesar. And in his office as teacher, this is what he said to the rich: 'Woe unto you that are rich for ye have received your consolation' and 'Woe unto you that are full for ye shall hunger, and to you that laugh now for ye shall weep ' and ' Woe unto you when all men shall speak well of you, for so did your fathers of the false prophets.' All things of the following kind, we have known through Luke alone (and numerous actions of the Lord, we have learned through him, which also the other evangelists notice): the multitude of fishes which Peter's companions enclosed when at the Lord's command they cast the nets; the woman who had suffered eighteen years and was healed on the Sabbath say; the man who had the dropsy and whom the Lord made whole on the sabbath; and how he did defend himself for having performed an act of healing on that day; how he taught his disciples not to aspire to the uppermost rooms; how we should invite the poor and feeble who cannot recompense us; the man who knocked during the night to obtain loaves and did obtain them 264 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE because of the urgency of his importunity; how when our Lord was sitting at meat with a Pharisee, a woman that was a sinner kissed his feet and anointed them with ointment, with what the Lord said to Simon on her behalf concerning the two debtors; also about the rich man who stored up the goods that had accrued to him, to whom it was also said: 'This night they shall demand thy soul from thee, whose then shall all those things be which thou hast prepared?' And similar to this that of the rich man who was clothed in purple and who fared sumptuously, and the indigent Lazarus; also the answer which he gave his disciples when they said ' Increase our faith' ; also his conversation with Zacheus the Publican; also about the Pharisee and the Publican who were praying in the temple at the same time; also the ten lepers whom he cleansed in the way simultaneously; also how he ordered the lame and the blind to be gathered to the wedding from the lanes and streets; also the parable of the judge who feared not God whom the widow's importunity led to avenge her cause; and about the fig tree in the vineyard which produced no fruit. There are also many other particulars to be found mentioned by Luke alone, which are made use of by both Marcion and Valetinus. And besides all these he records what Christ said to his dis- ciples in the way, after his resurrection, and how they recog- nized him in breaking bread. It follows then, of course, that these men must either receive the rest of his narrative or else reject these parts also; for no persons of common sense can permit them to receive some things recounted by Luke as being true and set others aside as if he had not known the truth." We are confident that this quotation by itself will be con- ceded as showing that the Gospel of Luke, in its present form, existed in the time of Irenaeus. Further there is raised a very strong presumption that the form of the other Gospels was already fixed, for had they taken shape at a later date it would seem strange that they should not include more of the things which Irenaeus says we learn "from Luke alone." It will be observed also that Irenaeus names these as some of the things TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY 265 which are received by both Marcion and Valetinus, and the list includes several of the incidents most likely to be attacked as legendary, such as the cleansing of the ten lepers, the Virgin birth, and the resurrection. Evidently these things were in the accepted record even in the time of these "critics." We should remember that Irenaeus is so near the apostolic age that tradition would be of great service in frustrating any attempt, had one been made, to corrupt the accepted history. There is only one step between Irenaeus and the apostle John and that is filled by his teacher and master Polycarp. Indeed we have reached a point in our investigation where we face not so much the hypothesis of unconscious accretions to the Gospel story, as the possibility of deliberate fraud. Irenaeus professes to teach the Gospel as Polycarp taught him. If this be not the original story taught by John the Apostle, Polycarp must have been guilty of fraud. We have found Irenaeus quoting freely from a work which corresponds to our Gospel according to John, and which he ascribes to John the Apostle. If this contained a different story from that which Polycarp had received by word of mouth from John, how strange that he should not inform the young Irenaeus. Justin, surnamed the Martyr, was a native of Palestine. We are uncertain as to the time of his birth. The date of his death is undisputed. An old man, he falls a victim to perse- cution and is beheaded in A. D . 1 6 5 . We certainly are warranted in concluding that he was born not later than the beginning of that century. His father was a heathen; Justin embraced the philosophy of Plato, but was converted to Christianity as a result of a conversation which he had with an aged Christian whom he met in his solitary rambles. He himself gives us an interesting account of this interview. His principal works are: (i) The Dialogue with Trypho, in which there is set forth the argument of Christian with the Jew of that time. (2) The Apology, addressed to the Emperor Antoninus Pius in defense of the Christians then suffering persecution. He quotes from each of the Gospels though not so frequently as Irenaus as his works are not so extensive. He refers to forty- 266 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE three passages in Matthew, three in Mark, nineteen in Luke and five in John. He professes to make these quotations from the "Memoirs of our Lord which have been recorded by the Apostles." He quotes also from Acts, Romans, First Corin- thians, Gallatians, II Thessalonians, Hebrews, I Peter, II Peter, and Revelation. The criticism has sometimes been made that the quotations by Justin are not always exact. This is true. Indeed they often remind us of the efforts of a modern preacher to quote from memory. The following cita- tions leave in our minds no doubt of his familiarity with these books. VOL. i Page 167 Matt. 9:13 168 Matt. 6:19 1 68 Mark 12:30 168 Matt. 22:17-21 183 John 3 :5 203 Matt. 21:13 212 Matt. 7:15 212 Matt. 24:11 219 Matt. 3:11-12 236 Matt. 7:22 236 Matt. 25:41 Page 236 Luke 10:19 237 Luke 9:22 246 Matt. 22 137-39 2 Luke 6: 247 . Luke 6:35 249 Luke i :38 249 Matt. 11:27 251 Luke 22:42-44 252 Luke 23:46 252 Matt. 5:20 252 Matt. 12:38-39 There are many other places where the verbiage is altogether that of Justin himself, no attempt being made to give the words of another, but which are as forceful as the most exact quota- tion could be in showing the contents of the Christian story at that time. We cite a few of these, and will ask the reader to observe the perfectly commonplace manner in which he refers to some of the things most frequently suspected of being of legendary origin. In chapter 10, page 199 we read: "Is there any other matter, my friends, in which we are blamed than this; that we live not after the law, and are not circumcised in the flesh, as your fathers were, and do not observe the sabbaths as you do?" "This is what we are amazed at," said Trypho, "but those things of which the multitude speak, they are not worthy of belief, for they are repugnant to human nature. Moreover, I am aware that your precepts in the so-called Gospels are so wonder- TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY 267 f ul and so great that I suspect no one can keep them for I have carefully read them." We have quoted this paragraph, among other reasons, to overcome in some degree the confusion arising from the fact that Justin quotes from what he calls the "Memoirs" passages which we find in our New Testament Gospels. In this paragraph we see that the term Gospels was even then applied to the Christian's sacred books, and under that name the Jew Trypho had read them. The Gospels and Justin's "Memoirs" are evidently identical. It would seem that at the time of Justin both words were in use as titles of the monographs of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John and with the lapse of years the term Gospels has survived in the usage of the churches and the term Memoirs has simply passed out of use. Let us now turn to page 203, chapter 17. "For after you had crucified him, the only blameless and righteous man, through whose stripes those who approach the Father by him are healed, when you knew he had risen from the dead and ascended to heaven, as the prophets foretold he would, you not only did not repent of the wickedness which you had com- mitted, but at that time you selected and sent out from Jerusalem chosen men to publish those things which those who know us not speak against us." Observe that the story of the resurrection is extant and that Justin charges that the Jew "knew that he had risen from the dead" It is such a matter of common knowledge that Justin, in his argument with Trypho, does not think it worth while to spend words in an attempt to prove it. He simply reiterates the charge that the Jew knew it was so. To the same import we read on pages 252-253, "And that he would rise again on the third day after his cruci- fixion, it is written in the memoirs that some of your nation questioning him said 'show us a sign' and he replied, 'An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign, and no sign shall be given them save the sign of Jonah.'" This is a good example of the freedom with which Justin makes his quotations, but who would question but that he had in mind Matthew 12:38-40? Justin then continues: "Yet you not only have 268 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE not repented after you learned that he rose from the dead, bul as I said before you have sent chosen men throughout all the world to proclaim that a godless heresy had sprung up from one Jesus, whom we crucified; but his disciples stole him by night from the tomb where he was laid when unfastened from the cross and now deceive men by asserting that he had risen from the dead and ascended to heaven." Evidently in the time of Justin, the Jews had found no other method of account- ing for the disappearance of the body of Jesus than that which Matthew ascribes to them on that first Easter Sunday morning. On page 174 we read: "And hear again how Isaiah in express words foretold that he should be born of a virgin: ' Behold a virgin shall conceive and bring forth a son, and they shall say for his name, God with us' .... And the angel of God who was sent to the virgin brought her good news saying: 'Behold thou shalt conceive of the Holy Ghost, and shalt bear a son and he shall be called the son of the Highest, and thou shalt call his name Jesus for he shall save his people from their sins,' as they who have recorded all things con- cerning our Savior have taught, whom we have believed. . . . . It is wrong, therefore, to understand the spirit and power of God as anything else than the Word, who is also the First-born of God . . . and it was this which when it came upon the virgin and overshadowed her caused her to conceive, not by intercourse but by power" If the story of the Virgin birth is a legendary accretion the legend makers had done their work before the time of Justin. We will give one more paragraph, clearly establishing the identity of Justin's " Memoirs" with the Gospels. On page 185 he writes of the Eucharist: "For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these . . . for the Apostles in the Memoirs composed by them which are called Gospels, have thus delivered unto us what was enjoined upon them; that Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks said: 'this do ye in remembrance of me; this is my body'; and that after the same manner, having taken the cup and TRACING BACK THE GOSPEL STORY 269 given thanks, he said: 'This is my blood' and gave it to them alone.'" We conclude that the story which Justin Martyr had received of the birth, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus did not differ materially from that contained in our New Testament Gospels; that it had already been reduced to writing in the four forms in which it appears to-day and that Justin and the Christians of his time ascribed it to Apostolic author- ship. CHAPTER XVI HYPOTHESIS OF LEGENDARY GROWTH Concluded WITH Justin Martyr we close our quotations from the Ante- Nicene Fathers. We stop here because we do not wish to appeal to any disputed authority. There are extant certain epistles accredited to Ignatius and Polycarp (Vol. I, page 33) which contain numerous New Testament quotations, and very clear assumptions of the essential incidents of the Gospel story. There is also a fragment accredited to one Papias, in the latter part of the first century, which mentions by name the Gospels of Matthew and Mark as having been written by those men: that Matthew wrote his Gospel first in Hebrew; that Mark wrote the one bearing his name at the dictation of Peter. This testimony would be very important, and would clearly put the writing of our present Gospels in the age of the Apostles. But unfortunately the genuineness of these epistles and frag- ments has sometimes been called in question. We, therefore, choose to throw them "out of court," and to see what con- clusions are warranted by the examination so far made. (1) Justin Martyr, before the middle of the second century, had in his possession a collection of books substantially those of the present New Testament, and containing the four Gospels in their present form. These were accounted of apostolic authority. (2) The Gospels in the hands of Justin Martyr contained in every essential particular the story of the birth, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus, as it exists in our New Testa- ment to-day. There is no reason to think that " legend making " has added anything to the Gospel story since the manhood of Justin Martyr, say, A.D. 120 or 125, and we are fully warranted in moving "a" in our diagram back to the latter date. (3) If the present Gospel story is of legendary origin, it is the growth of a very short period; of not more than fifty years; 270 HYPOTHESIS OF LEGENDARY GROWTH 271 from A.D. 75 to A.D. 125. Justin Martyr and the men of his time received the Gospel story from men who had received it from the Apostles. These men the preachers of the period of fifty years, from A.D. 75 to A.D. 125 had received the original Gospel story which we designated by "x." They gave to their hearers the present Gospel story "a." Whatever changes were made must have been consciously made. Suppose that the Gospel, as preached by the Apostles did not contain the accounts of the incarnation and of the resurrection. We have found both Irenaeus and Justin quoting those accounts from the "Scriptures" extant in their day and affirming that these were portions of the story as they had been taught. If these portions were not part of the original story, they had been inserted during the fifty years we have indicated and by the preachers of that period; and if so those preachers knew they were perpetrating a fraud, and imposing a forgery on the church. We are forever through with the "Hypothesis of Legendary Accretion." As a hypothetical possibility, we say, the church of the closing years of the first century and the opening years of the second century may have been forgery duped; it was not, it could not, have been legend duped. It is next in order to consider the probability of such men as those teachers and preachers, perpetrating such a fraud, and the further probability of the church, of that time and at that time being deceived by it had such a thing been attempted. CHAPTER XVII THE HYPOTHESIS OF FORGERY WE are next to inquire into the probability that the present Gospel story is a forgery palmed of! on the church some time between A.D. 75 and A.D. 125. That we may not be unneces- sarily burdened, let us narrow the question to one particular: Was the story of the resurrection of Jesus forged and incor- porated into the record during the period named? If so no Christian would have any heart to insist on the integrity of any other part of the record. If it is genuine, and a part of the original story as first preached, no critic would care to insist on the corruption of any other portion. It will be remembered that we did not propose to prove the integrity of the Gospel story beyond the possibility of a doubt, but beyond a reasonable doubt. It is possible to doubt the battle of Thermopylae having been fought; to suggest that the story of Leonidas and his Spartans is a fiction invented by national vanity. But such a supposition is more unreasonable than the story which is questioned. Conceding for the purposes of this discussion that it is hypothetically possible that the story of the resurrection was a forgery thrust into the record during the fifty years under consideration, let us look at the implications of the hypothesis and the dimensions of the fraud. The theory of forgery, like the theory of legendary accretion, supposes the story of the resurrection to be no part of the original story "x" which the Apostles of Jesus went everywhere preaching. The first story was simply that of a devout young Jew who went about teaching sublime moral maxims, and doing deeds of mercy, who at last was apprehended by the priests, charged with treason, condemned by Pontius Pilate, suffered on the cross between two thieves, died, was buried and rotted. His disciples 272 THE HYPOTHESIS OF FORGERY 273 had trusted "that it had been he who should redeem Israel"; and so after his death they go everywhere calling on men to repent of their sins, and to believe on this shamefully mis- treated and dead Jew whose body, still lying in Joseph's tomb or some other resting place, is like all others rapidly passing to dust. The Apostles of Jesus never said that he rose from the dead. They preach a dead Redeemer. Yet marvelous success attends their preaching, and before the year seventy-five of our era, Christian congregations are found as far east as Mesopotamia, thence westward in Syria, in Egypt, and Northwest Africa, in Asia Minor, in Greece, in Spain, and in Italy. These have all received the Gospel story with the "supernatural" element omitted. The dead Jesus still "sleeps with his fathers." The last time his friends saw him was on that Friday evening when they took him down from the cross, closed his glazed eyes, "rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulcher, and departed." No one of the first generation of Christians ever heard of the resurrection, but at some time within this fifty years under consideration some unknown somebodies corrupt the simple "Memoirs of the Apostles." To make a bigger story, they declare that Jesus only lay in the grave from Friday evening until Sunday morning. Straight- way from Babylon to Rome the preachers, including Ignatius and Polycarp, are telling the story of a risen Jesus, and assert that the Apostles had told it so from the beginning. This story is received with avidity by the Christians. And now another thing occurs which has added to the mystification of all succeeding centuries. The written "Memoirs" of the Apostles must be changed to fit this latest metamorphosis of the Gospel story, and so some unknown hands add to each one of these memoirs a chapter or two containing an account of the resurrection; and to increase the marvel and make the work consistent, passages are inserted in which Jesus is made to predict his own resurrection. But the most audacious thing in the line of literary fraud ever perpetrated occurs. With Jews all around them they add and forthwith preach a story of the conduct of the Jews at the time of the death and 274 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE purported resurrection of Jesus (Matt. 27:62-66 and Matt. 28:11-15). For the first time they boldly assert in the face of the Jews the story of the bribed guard, etc., and yet there is no record that any Jew ever rose to say: "We never heard that before." But the work of these forgers is not yet done. Luke, the Christian physician and companion of Paul, had left a leaflet purporting to give an account of part of the ministry of Peter and Paul in the places whither they went preaching the new faith. This account must be changed to fit the new version of the story; and so there were inserted Acts 12:11, Acts 2:22-32, Acts 3:15, Acts 10:37-41, Acts 13:26-30, Acts 17:30-31, Acts 25:19, Acts 26:22-23. But we have not yet taken in the magnitude of the forgery of this one incident. There was a collection of letters of the Apostles to several churches. No critic has yet been bold enough to deny that Paul did write a letter to the Romans, two to the Corinthians, and some others. But on the theory we are considering, these letters could have contained no reference to the resurrection of Jesus; and for the sake of consistency they too must be changed by making appropriate insertions. Here are some of them: in Romans 1:4, 6:9, 8:11, 14:9, and I Cor. 15:1-8, etc. These are just examples of the extent of the forgery which by hypothesis must have been perpetrated by these men. And this work is so thor- oughly done and is so readily received that it has a clear field by A. D. 125. If there was any protest anywhere against the change, it was so feeble that every trace of it, has perished before the manhood of Justin Martyr. Neither Christian, Jew nor Pagan has ever claimed to be able to point to a single preacher of the first century who preached anything but a risen Jesus. Once more we insist this may be hypo- thetically possible, but it is not morally probable. Evidently the hypothesis of forgery of so important an item in the Gospel records implies a very peculiar class of people in the Christian church at that time. Could anything new and of such magnitude be inserted into the record now? To suppose that it could be done then implies that those Chris? THE HYPOTHESIS OF FORGERY 275 tians cared less for the integrity of the story "x" than we do for "a." The period was one of bitter persecution. Men who are ready to die for their faith in a story will hold it uncor- rupted tenaciously. Tacitus writing of the efforts of Nero to fasten the burning of Rome on the Christians says (Annals, Book XV, Oxford trans.): "But not all the relief that could come from man, not all the bounties the prince could bestow, nor all the atonements which could be presented to the gods availed to relieve Nero of the infamy of being believed to have ordered the conflagration. Hence to suppress the rumor he falsely charged with the guilt and punished with the most exquisite tortures the persons commonly called Christians, who were hated for their enormities. Christus, the founder of that name, was put to death as a criminal by Pontius Pilate, Procurator of Judea in the reign of Tiberius; but the pernicious superstition, repressed for a time, broke out again not only in Judea, where the mischief originated, but through the city of Rome also, whither all things disgraceful and horrible flow from all quarters, as to a common receptable and where they are encouraged. Accordingly, first, those were seized who confessed they were Christians; next on their information a great multitude were convicted, not so much on the charge of burning the city as of hating the human race. And in their deaths they were also made the subjects of sport for they were covered with the hides of wild beasts and worried to death by dogs, or nailed to crosses, or set fire to for nocturnal lights. Nero offered his own garden for that spectacle, and exhibited a Circensian game, indiscriminately mingling with the common people in the habit of his charioteer or else stand- ing in his chariot." These martyrs had received the story "x." They will repeat the story "x." They die testifying their faith in the story "x" in A.D. 64. Pass on one generation to A.D. no. The religious teachers of this time are men who were boys when Nero was lighting his gardens with burning Christians. They have received the story "x." Pliny, the younger, is governor of a province in Asia Minor and it becomes his official duty to execute the 276 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE edicts of the emperor Trajan for the extermination of Chris- tianity. He is appalled at the magnitude of the task and reports that the " crime continues to spread" notwithstanding the persecutions. He is "in doubt what to do with those of tender years." He has found that an "effectual test of their crime is to command them to revile the name of Christ, and to make sacrifice to the image of the emperor." These were things that those "who were truly Christians could not be forced to do." Aside from this "stubbornness" the only "guilt" he "could learn from those who turned state's evidence was that they were accustomed to meet on a stated day, before it was light; to sing in concert a hymn of praise to Christ as to a God; and to bind themselves by an oath, not for the perpetration of any wickedness but that they would not commit any theft, robbery, or adultery, nor violate their word after this they were accustomed to separate, and then to reassemble to eat a harmless meal. Even this, how- ever, they ceased to do after my edict, in which agreeably with your command I forbade the meeting of secret assemblies. After hearing this I thought it the more necessary to endeavor to find out the truth by putting to the torture two female slaves who are called deaconesses. But I could discover nothing but a perverse and extravagant superstition, and therefore I deferred further proceeding until I should hear from you; for the matter seems to me worthy of such con- sideration on account of the number of those who are involved in peril; for many of every age and of either sex are exposed, and will be exposed to danger. Nor has the contagion of this superstition been confined to the cities only, but has extended to the villages and even to the country." (Translation by Prof. Wright.) Now that which occurred here was going on all over the Roman world. Pliny's Christians like those of Tacitus had a story, for which they stood ready to die. Is it "x" or "a"? Think a moment. These people are of every age. Many of them remember the days and the persecution of which Tacitus wrote. They had received the story "x." Think again. Justin Martyr is a boy. These people are most THE HYPOTHESIS OF FORGERY 277 certainly giving out the story which he received. That story we have seen was "a." He has received "x" they give "a." Evidently "x" = "a" or there remains but one alterna- tive. These people having received "x" have deliberately, unanimously, by common consent, from the Euphrates to the Straits of Gibralter, changed that story for "a," have obliter- ated all trace of "x" and are now ready to die by torture rather than to renounce their faith in "a." Let him who can believe it. It would be a greater marvel than anything which the Christian apologist asks men to believe. No; the Gospel story "a" is not a forgery; "x" = "a." It remains for us to consider whether the first teachers of Christianity were either deceivers of others or were themselves the victims of fraud or delusion.* *The question may occur to some minds whether the Christians of the second century (like Justin and Irenaeus for example) were able to assure themselves that the story which they received from their preachers was the one which the Apostles had told. We can see what would be the facilities for detecting a forgery, by observing the accepted history of another religious movement of later times, e.g., of the people called Methodists. John Wesley, the founder of this sect, was born in A.D. 1703 and died in A.D. 1791. At the time of this writing, A. D. 1916, we are removed from the time of his birth by a period of 213 years, a period of time greater than that which separated any of the Ante-Nicene fathers from the birth of Jesus and of the Apostle John. In A.D. 213 evenOrigen was over twenty-eight years old. Now as to the origin of the people called Methodists; in the accepted history we read: "In the latter end of the year 1739 eight or ten persons who appeared to be deeply convicted of sin and earnestly groaning for redemption came to Mr. Wesley in London. They desired, as did two or three more the next day, that he would spend some time with them in prayer and advise them how to flee from the wrath to come which they saw continually hanging over their heads, etc This was the rise of the UNITED SOCIETY, first in Europe and then in America." This quotation is from the preface to the General Rules of the Methodist Episcopal Church, which pastors are required to read once a year in every congregation. Can we have evidence that this is an uncor- rupted account of the origin of the people called Methodists? Let us imagine the statement challenged. The author is certain that it is the same statement he has heard read from his boyhood and is convinced that it is the statement made in regard to the origin of the Methodist Society from the beginning. He remembers distinctly having heard these statements read by Methodist preachers as far back as A.D. 1852. He knew at that time at least two men who had been preaching fifty years. He remembers the names of these two and how they looked as they stood in the pulpit "reading the General Rules." Of course there were many 278 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE others of equal age in the ministry whom he did not know. They were accustomed to read these statements without question. He never heard their Wesleyan origin questioned by any one. These men were certainly able to have corrected the error if it had been such, for they had been ordained by Francis Asbury, who as will be remembered was Wesley's own son in the Gospel, and personal friend as well, and was sent to this country before the Revolution, and organized the Methodist Episcopal Church (certainly on a Wesleyan foundation) in A.D. 1784. Besides this there were living and known to the author quite a number of persons among the laity of the church, who were over eighty years old; and some of like age in sects violently opposed to Methodism. These persons could easily remember before the death of Wesley (some of them had heard him preach), but from no one did he ever hear a hint that there was any other origin of the sect than that set forth in the generally accepted account. Every one will agree that the Methodists of the author's generation were fully justified in accepting the statement quoted as the original account of of origin of "the people called Methodists." Now Justin, dying in A.D. 165, Tertullian in A.D. 240, Clement in A.D. 220, and Irenaeus in A.D. 202, were as closely related to the origin of Chris- tianity as is the author to the origin of Methodism. They received the Gospel story from those who had been taught it by the Apostles and of such there were a sufficient number alive to have prevented collusion in a fraud had one been attempted. CHAPTER XVIII HYPOTHESIS OF DELUSION OR IMPOSTURE Preliminary Survey ASIDE from noting that Jesus is really an historic personage not a myth we have established but one fact. But from that one important consequences will follow. We have found that the story which we now have in the four Gospels is the original one. That it is the one which the original disciples of Jesus first proclaimed. There is not a particle of evidence that a single incident or a single teaching has been added since the last one of the Apostles braved exile and death in testimony that "this Jesus hath God raised up whereof we are witnesses." It will hereafter be allowable to examine the books of the New Testament in our effort to answer the remaining questions of our investigation. We will not even yet quote them as authority in matters of doctrine. We simply examine them as statements of fact as to what the first Christian teaching was. We will read them as we read Xenophon's Memorabilia, in an effort to determine the nature of the Socratic philosophy. We will read the Acts of the Apostles as to the first preaching of Christianity, just as we would read Caesar's Commentaries on the Gallic wars. If we find it there stated that Peter and John on a given occasion said so and so, we will conclude that Peter and John did say it, but we will grant to any man the right to determine by critical inquiry whether Peter and John in so saying told the truth or a falsehood. If it is asked what bearing anything we here find may have on the question yet before us, we answer that on the hypothesis of either fraud or delusion in the first teachers of Christianity, it will be reason- able to expect something in their work that will bear marks of that fraud, or of that delusion. As some one has said: "A design to deceive is itself a constraining force. An effort 279 2 8o STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE to make a consistent story is likely to betray itself in many places." Again on the hypothesis that Jesus and his disciples were deluded enthusiasts, we ought to be able to find in their work some indication of their lack of mental balance. Note that it is with the first generation of Christian teachers that we are now concerned; with those who told the story on their own authority as eye and ear witnesses. The world has had many devotees of political, philosophical or religious theories who were ready to concoct a pleasing fiction and pass it off for the truth. But so far as we have investigated, their critics have always been able to find in their work traces of the motives that swayed them. It is incumbent on any one who would affirm that Jesus and his Apostles were impostors to find a motive for their fraud. Failing to find it, these critics are bound in reason to accord them the presumption of sincerity. We may even then find them the victims of mental aberration, but their integrity would stand unimpeached. If any one affirms that Jesus and his Apostles were insane enthusiasts, it is incumbent on him to find in their work some evidence of their aberration; failing to find it, we are entitled to consider them witnesses of sound mind. In short, in the absence of evidence of fraudulent purpose, they are entitled to the pre- sumption of sincerity; in the absence of evidence of mental aberration, they are entitled to the presumption of sanity. CHAPTER XIX WAS JESUS AN IMPOSTOR OR A MADMAN? IT seems almost superfluous to attempt seriously to answer the first part of this question. It is true that Jesus was arrested as an evil doer. But history has been his vindication. The charges against him were two: first of treason against the Roman state, and of this his accusers failed to convince the Roman governor; second of blasphemy, and those who would have condemned him on that charge were prejudging the case and begging the question. His impiety was said to consist in his claim that he was the Son of God. But he is not a blasphemer in so claiming if the claim is a true one. Is it not remarkable that to-day no one assails the integrity of Jesus? Pilate voiced the judgment of all future generations of unbe- lievers when he said, "I find no fault in Him." Infidel and Jew vie with the Christian in eulogies pronounced on the character of the Nazarene. Pilate, Rosseau, Chesterfield, Thomas Paine, Voltaire, Herbert Spencer, John Stuart Mill, Renan, Ingersoll, Emma Lazarus, and Rabbi Hirsh have all uttered words in which may be read the fulfillment of the Apostolic declaration that: "God hath highly exalted him and given him a name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord (Master) to the glory of God the Father" (Phil. 2:9-11). Does some one say that we have only the record of his life given by his friends? We have one thing more the eloquent silence of his enemies. Silent they must be, or Rabbi Hirsh would not have called him, "The greatest prophet ever born of woman." Was Jesus a madman? There have been insane enthusiasts who have fancied themselves the vicegerents of the Almighty. 281 282 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE Invariably such men show certain well understood charac- teristics, (i) They lack self control. Jesus was self poised. Nothing ever disturbed the calm equanimity of that serene soul. (2) Such persons invariably reveal the fact that down deep in their hearts they are swayed by the ordinary motives of greed or ambition. Peter the Hermit, Swedenborg, Joseph Smith, Madam Blavatsky, John Alexander Dowie, and Mary Baker Eddy are examples. Of Jesus: "No guile was found in his mouth." So far as known to this writer in every case of men assuming the place of religious leaders under a craze of enthusiasm there has been some method pursued contributing to the gratification of their own passions or to the satisfaction of their ambition and love of distinction in the present life. There arose among the Jews many pretenders to Messiah- ship, who invariably aimed at securing for themselves the throne of Israel. The conduct of Jesus was such that no one ever found in him a single trace of sordidness or worldly ambition. His character in this respect was so clear that Pilate believed him when he said, "My kingdom is not of this world." But the hypothesis of fraud or delusion in Jesus done is inadequate as an explanation of the phenomena of the origin of Christianity. No hypothesis is adequate which does not explain how the disciples of Jesus came to declare with such persistence and insistence that he had risen from the dead. The bodies of impostors and madmen lie in their graves as quietly as those of sane and virtuous men and women. Unless the disciples conspired to perpetrate a fraud, or were all victims of the same delusion of the senses, there was some external reality at the foundation of their assertions. They everywhere affirmed that to their certain knowledge he had risen from the dead, and we must, if possible, find some rational explanation of that testimony. How did they come to say with such confidence and with such unanimity that "this Jesus hath God raised up whereof we are witnesses"? Two hypotheses are suggested to account for the testimony of the disciples to the fact of the resurrection of Jesus (i) That WAS JESUS AN IMPOSTOR OR A MADMAN? 283 the disciples were the victims of a delusion of the senses. (2) That they conspired to fabricate the story and to tell it.* *The writer once heard a disciple of the school of "modern thought" and "culture" set forth what may seem a third hypothesis, viz. that the disciples, in their preaching, really used the words ascribed to them in the Gospels, but that their utterances were not intended to be taken literally; that we are not to understand that there was any physical resurrection at all, and that the disciples of Jesus did not expect to be so understood; that they only meant that the spirit of Jesus was exalted and was hence- forth to be exhibited in their lives. Oh! for another Dickens, to show us that these men, when they said "This Jesus hath God raised up whereof we are witnesses" only intended that their utterances should be taken in a "Pickwickian sense." If that were their purpose, as honest men they could not have used the words they did. No sane man could use the words imputed to them and not expect that his auditors would understand him in the ordinary acceptation of the terms. Festus took the only rational view of the matter, when he said of the Jew's controversy with Paul that it related to "one Jesus who was dead whom Paul affirmed to be alive." If in their hearts they did not believe him risen as their words imply, they can not escape from a just imputation of fraud. CHAPTER XX WERE THE DISCIPLES OF JESUS DELUDED ENTHUSIASTS? WE frankly admit that in attempting to account for the origin of Christianity, by supposing its first devotees to have been such persons as above indicated, the enemies of Christianity have offered what at first glance seems a plausible and natural explanation of the supposed supernatural events. Given a man of such character as it is conceded that Jesus was; given an age when earth and air and sea were peopled with ghosts and goblins; when a credulous multitude were easily led to believe in the supernatural power of a hero; when even the best informed men had not conceived the course of nature to be otherwise than irregular and capricious; given a multitude of sick and suffering humanity seeking relief from physical suffering, and you have the conditions for the development of wonderful stories of supernatural power. We are sometimes told that at the present time there is an analogous case in the credulity of large numbers of men manifesting their belief in various superstitions. Not very long ago in Europe the palace doors of royalty were crowded with multitudes of suffering men and women waiting for the healing touch of the king. All over Europe one locality vied with another in its claims for the supernatural power of certain springs of water. Even now many sincere people assert their belief in the healing virtue of certain prayers, of imposition of hands, and of sundry anointings. It seems a natural thing to say that Jesus could not withold the tender word and touch of sympathy, and that then, as now, the springing up of a great new hope wrought marvels. And the loving and credulous disciples were deluded into thinking that their master had 284 WERE THE DISCIPLES DELUDED? 285 indeed wrought the cures. How easily we have disposed of the whole matter! Now were there no testimony to any other command over nature than that manifested in the cure of disease, convincing as that may have been at the time, we would probably be found among the doubting Thomases to-day. And yet it is in order to observe that there are several striking differences between the cures ascribed to Jesus and those claimed for other and modern healers : (i) There are no tentative miracles. It has never been claimed, not even by the Jews of the time, that Jesus ever attempted to work a cure and failed. (2) There appears to be no limit to the classes of cases on which His power is exerted and (3) His cures are instantaneous. If the disciples were deluded in their belief as to what Jesus did if their stories were concocted under the feverish heat of an overworked imagination, there is one circumstance that is certainly strange: in no case is Jesus reported to have used his supernatural power for his own ease or personal advantage. That fact accords well with what the coolest criticism would say we should expect from such a character as Jesus is believed to have been. But it is well nigh incon- ceivable that feverish brains should have been so discreet in their portrayal of him. In the Apochryphal Gospels, those fictions of the later centuries, the minds of the authors fairly revel in the invention of marvelous stories in which Jesus is represented as working wonderful deeds for his own con- venience or fame. Now on the hypothesis of delusion, what set the bounds to the imagination of the Gospel writers? Deluded people always have active imaginations, and it is passing strange that some of the disciples did not think that they saw Jesus himself feeding on bread miraculously let down from heaven, or gliding gracefully down through the air from a pinnacle of the temple, and so winning the applause of assembled thousands. We are constrained to believe that their fancy was curbed by the walls of solid fact and that the story we have of each of the miracles of Jesus corresponds to an objective reality. 286 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE But the miracles of Jesus are not confined to the curing of disease. He stills the tempest and he feeds the multitude with five loaves and two fishes. Even here the critics are ready with explanations which do not explain. Storms do sometimes suddenly subside, and this was simply a "coinci- dence." Exactly, and the coincidence is just what needs to be explained. The most natural explanation is power in the one at whose command "immediately the wind ceased." In the feeding the multitude we have something which baffles explanation except by supposing a still greater marvel. It has been suggested that in this case the power was exerted, not on any material thing, but on the appetites of the people. But the power to so hypnotize five thousand hungry men at once, so that each would believe himself nourished, would be as great a departure from the ordinary operation of "natural law," as the gathering in half an hour of the everywhere abundant chemical elements which enter into the composition of human food. We often need to guard ourselves against the logical fallacy of begging the question. Against the reputed feeding of the multitude some one urges "I cannot believe it because it is unreasonable that any one should do such a thing." But if the thing in proof of which the fact is adduced is true; if Jesus is in fact "God with us," the thing claimed to be done is no longer unreasonable. Suppose that when, according to the story, the stranger claiming the rights of Ulysses had proven his identity by bending the bow of Ulysses, some one had greeted the report with "We cannot believe your story because it is unreasonable that any one could bend that bow." In each case the question is one of fact. Did the stranger bend the bow? Did the loaves and fishes grow? But some one says, "The disciples may have been deluded. Their highly wrought imaginations may have led them to fancy all of this when in fact it was not true." No, except in the dream world men do not image unreal events with such particularity and minuteness of detail as we find in the record of this event. Let a man to-day tell me such a story. I will say: "You are crazy." Let a dozen men WERE THE DISCIPLES DELUDED? 287 bear witness to it, and unless I believe them I will say " Gentle- men, you may be lying but you cannot be mistaken." But as some one has said, "Sooner or later we come to Joseph's tomb." Hence we will spend no further time on events in the ministry of Jesus, but will ask at once: "Was the testimony of the disciples to the resurrection of Jesus due to an hallucination?" This has seemed to some the most plausible solution of the difficulty. We frankly concede that prior to investigation there is a very strong presumption against the truth of such a story as the disciples of Jesus went forth proclaiming. That a human body, pronounced dead on Friday evening, but more surely made dead by a spear thrust to the heart, laid in a tomb, sealed with the seal of the Roman governor, guarded by a watch of trained soldiers, that this body, on the Sunday following, and at sundry times for forty days thereafter, should be found walking abroad, entering rooms, sitting at table, eating, and giving food for others to eat, and engaging in conversation indeed, this would seem a story, large enough, ordinarily, to stagger the credulity of the most credulous. It will require tremendous proofs to make it credible. We need not think it strange that many have attempted to account for the Apostles' story on the theory of hallucination. There are such things as halluci- nations. The author's own investigations, as well as the reports of various societies of psychical research, lead him to believe that about one person in ten has had more or less experience with them. Every one is aware of the occurrence of hallucinations in connection with illness, but in the phe- nomenon we are to consider, the hallucination is itself the only symptom of disease. Hallucination has been denned as "a subjective sensory image which arises, without external stimuli, is projected outward and thus assumes apparent objective reality." It is to be clearly distinguished from the dream state. The individual knows himself awake. There are certain general observations to be made regarding halluci- nations: (i) They occur more frequently with some senses than with others. Visual and auditory hallucinations are 288 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE more frequent than those of the other senses. Tactile halluci- nations occur with only about one-tenth the frequency of those of either sight or hearing. (2) It is comparatively seldom that more than one sense is involved in a single hallucination. The subject hears a voice but sees no one, or he sees a pointing, beckoning form but hears no sound. If the visual image does not vanish before the test of the sense of touch it is believed clear that the experience was not a hallucination. (3) It is seldom that more than one person is the subject of the same hallucination at the same time. The probability that there is an objective reality, instead of a subjective image, increases with every addition to the company of persons sup- posed to be hallucinated. Let us examine the accounts given by the disciples, of the appearances of Jesus to them. Let the reader at this point turn to Matt. 27:62 to 28:20, Mark 15:42 to 16:20, Luke 23:50 to 24:48 and John 19:38 to 21-20, also I Cor. 15:1-8. These accounts are sufficiently divergent to preclude the suspicion of collusion. The writers record differ- ent appearances of Jesus not inconsistent with each other. It is a mark of the honesty of the disciples that no one pro- fesses to have been at the tomb and to have seen Jesus emerge from it. (A fabricator would have made a better story by so reporting.) All agree that women were first at the sepulchre, found it empty and brought the disciples word. In the accounts referred to, it will be observed that, as against the usual phenomena of hallucination we have (i) Sev- eral persons with the same hallucination at the same time. That I should have a visual hallucination is not strange. That you should have another and different one is not strange. It is strange that eleven men selected at random should all be victims of hallucination. Strange that Jesus should have selected eleven wild-eyed men for his Apostles; more strange still that any two or all of them should have the same delusion at once. Moreover there are two disciples, not Apostles who see him together at Emmaus. They return to Jerusalem and find ten Apostles (Thomas not being with them) and there WERE THE DISCIPLES DELUDED? 289 they all see the same "apparition" again. (2) The apparition is persistent and recurrent. It is not a single appearance. Whatever this object may be it comes before them several times and in unexpected places. It is not a passing fleeting vision, it abides before them for a considerable time. There is one circumstance in this connection sometimes made the subject of criticism which has a bearing on the ques- tion of the delusion of these witnesses. Was it not strange, we are asked, that these disciples on some occasions were so slow to recognize Jesus if it were really He? Not strange at all. Most of us have had the experience of a tardy recognition of a friend if met in an unexpected place and at an unexpected time. Such occasions will furnish enough instances of tardiness of recognition to destroy utterly the force of any objection to the Apostles' story based on such tardiness of perception. It will be observed also that in such experiences the vividness and certainty of identification was finally much enhanced by the previous tardiness of recognition. Further, this slowness of perception is found, we believe, only in the real world. There will be found in the realm of hallucination few, if any, examples of the projected sensory image coming slowly to the subject's apprehension, or of its changing its identity while it remains in his consciousness. 3. The hallucination, if such it was, was simultaneously of sight and hearing and touch. They not only see a familiar form but that form speaks. Not that alone but they try the sense of touch. ' Anticipating the New Psychology by eighteen centuries, this apparition says: "Handle me and see." "Have you any meat?" And then they take a "piece of a broiled fish and a honeycomb," and approach this shadowy form, this speaking "figment of the imagination," this "subjective sensory image" projected out there in space. And they tell us that this spectre, or whatever it is called, takes the fish and the honeycomb, and eats before them. On another occasion he prepares a meal for them, and before their eyes takes the provisions and distributes to them. They state too that the sceptic among them was convinced by the challenge to thrust 290 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE his finger into the scar of the nails in his hands, and his hand into the scar of the spear thrust in his side. Think of the dimensions of this delusion if such it was. That such a hallucination should be so general and persistent and of frequent recurrence, and of so many senses, would be as great a marvel as that for which we are trying to account. There is certainly some objective reality in any case where so many men believe they see something with such particu- larity. Only the man who has prejudged the case and said that such a thing as the resurrection could not be proven by any amount of evidence only such a man will insist that the disciples of Jesus were deluded. If Jesus did not really stand before them, they knew they were lying every time they afterward opened their mouths to say: "This Jesus hath God raised up whereof we are witnesses."* *A few years after the murder of President McKinley, a critic asked the author whether an individual reporting the appearance to himself of McKinley would be believed. He certainly would not and should not be. There was an error in thinking that he had supposed a case at all similar. It lacks a most important element to make it at all parallel the story of the resurrection of Jesus. There is not supposed any great moral purpose back of it no foreseen great beneficent end to be accom- plished to justify the author of nature in thus departing from his estab- lished order. But the supposed case may be so stated that its treatment by rational men may throw some light, not on the direct question of the cred- ibility of the story of the resurrection of Jesus, but on the question we are in fact discussing, viz., that of the hallucination of the disciples at sundry times for forty days after the death of Jesus. Suppose I say to you: "Last evening just as I was preparing for supper my door bell rang. I opened the door and found a sad eyed and weary stranger there. At my invitation he entered and sat down. We were soon engaged in the discussion of the political situation of the country and the conversation turned upon the case of Senator Smoot, now being investigated by the United States Senate. I was charmed with the manner in which he expounded the constitutional provisions applicable to the election of Senators. I was thrilled while he spoke of the charms and sanctity of the American home, and I admired the wisdom of his suggestion that the whole matter might safely be left to the discretion of the committee of the Senate having it in charge. With something of a tremor in his voice he said 'Don't hurt him; let the law take its course.' Just then supper was announced. I invited him to sit down which he did, and before I could return thanks he did so himself. As he spoke with uplifted eyes I recognized the murdered president, and began to inquire about the last 'voyage of the House Boat on the Styx.' 'Look here,' he said, 'what WERE THE DISCIPLES DELUDED? 291 do you take me for? Do you think that I am a ghost? Look in my eyes and see me.' Then he stretched out that long arm of his and grabbed my hand and said: 'Shake hands and know that it is I myself; a ghost has not flesh and bones and fingers as you see me have.' Then he lifted up his vest and showed me the wound made by the bullet of Czolgosz, and the long gash made by the surgeon's knife. Just then my wife brought in the coffee. He took the cup but declined to drink, passing the cup to me. He asked for a glass of water which I gave him and he drank. Last of all he rose and said that he hoped I would make all the votes I could for Roosevelt and Protection. With that he vanished out of the door and I have seen him no more." Now, of course, no one would believe my story. My telling it with such particularity does not show the story true, but my repeating it with such minuteness of detail does have an important bearing on the explanation of my telling it. My telling the story is a fact to be accounted for in some manner. Had I only asserted without amplification "I saw President McKinley last night," you might find the theory of hallucination adequate. Not so when I relate my experience with such circumstantiality. It is not a sudden and vanishing apparition. I cannot if confronted with some inconsistency in my story find a way out of it by saying: "The time was so short I really could not be certain what it was that I saw." By my own statement the apparition was before me for a time, during which I was uncertain as to who it might be; then on rationally appre- hended grounds I pass to a condition of conscious certainty. The halluci- nation, if such it was, was of the senses of sight, hearing, touch, and of muscular movement. The projected sensory image is at each moment subjected to a new test, and liable to be shown to be the "baseless fabric of a vision." No one will think me simply a deluded Republican fanatic. My story will not be believed and no one will believe that I believe it myself. Various motives may be assigned for my telling it, as love of sport, joking, or of scientific experiment. In any case it will be said that I had consciously manufactured the story. I may have lied; I could not have been hallucinated. Now the story of the resurrection of Jesus goes beyond this in that you have to account for the identical hallucination ofat least two women (Matt. 28.1) and thirteen men. For aught we have seen so far they may have conspired to tell a lie. What may be the probability of their doing so will be considered in the next chapter CHAPTER XXI WERE THE APOSTLES OF JESUS IMPOSTORS? ONE by one the several schemes which would account for Christianity on the supposition of its falsity have been con- sidered. We have seen that no one maintains that Jesus Himself was an impostor. That the supposition of His being a madman is inadequate. We have seen that the present Gospel story, by successive steps, can be traced back to those who received it from the Apostles themselves. We have found that this story is not a myth, neither is it a forgery nor an accretion of legendary materials. It is the account which the first disciples of Jesus gave as the ground of their faith in the Christian system. We have seen that the sup- position that the disciples of Jesus were hallucinated is unten- able. One hypothesis alone remains to be considered. Did the Apostles manufacture the story of the life and ministry of Jesus, including the account of His death and resurrection, as told in the four Gospels? It is to be said at the beginning that if so they were a wonderfully successful set of fabricators with a very unskilfully made fabrication. As a fabrication, the Gospel story as we have it would be subject to overthrow from either of several sources of difficulty: (i) The dimen- sions of the story are too great, and it is exposed to contradiction at so many points. The Apostles go everywhere preaching in the very country in which they claim that Jesus wrought His miracles. They run the risk of having some one retort: "I was living here at that time and I never heard of it." They proclaim the resurrection of Jesus in the very face of those who had cried "crucify him." (2) As fabricators they exposed their scheme to great risk in the number of persons who must have been taken into their secret. Their plan, if fraudulent, involves the keeping of a great secret. Where was the body 292 WERE THE APOSTLES IMPOSTORS? 293 of Jesus? One thing is certain: the enemies of Jesus have lost His body. Had they had it when the disciples began preaching the resurrection, they would have produced it. That they did not do so is conclusive evidence that they could not. They did not know where it was. If the disciples, as was charged, had stolen it away, and disposed of it in order that they might afterward say "He is risen," what a fearful secret they had to guard. And at least eleven men and three women, whose names we know, must have been in that conspiracy (Luke 24.10). But when we attempt to account for the origin of Chris- tianity on the hypothesis of fraud committed by the disciples of Jesus, we are met with the difficulty of finding a motive for the perpetration of such a fraud. On our present hypothesis the whole account, notably that of the resurrection, is a stu- pendous falsehood. Now there is no general rule which holds true with fewer exceptions than this: men who make lies and try to have them believed by their fellows have a motive for so doing. You may find a man who will make and tell lies for the love of it, but such men are rare. From Cain to Ananias, and from Ananias to Titus Oats, we may ask: Does a man tell lies for nought? Our whole system of juris- prudence assumes that ordinary men prefer to tell the truth, and will tell the truth in the absence of a motive to the con- trary. Among all the motives which ordinarily move men to falsehood not one of them can be found operative in this case. There was no money, nor ease, nor honor, nor reputation in it. All accounts agree that Jesus held out no promise of any of these things to His disciples. If it be said that they had the hope of eternal bliss, which is a powerful motive in the lives of many men, we answer, that their whole hope of future happiness rested on the promise of Jesus who had failed to save Himself from His enemies, and whose decaying body, on our present hypothesis, they had stolen and disposed of. Further, by the very terms of the doctrine they preached to others, they would cut themselves off from all hope of future bliss by making and telling this story. If Peter and John 294 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE had a part in bearing away the body of Jesus, there is some- thing fearfully grotesque in Peter upbraiding Ananias with his falsehood, and in John writing that "all liars shall have their part in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone." The hope of future bliss would, indeed, be a powerful motive if they believed their story true, but it loses all its force as soon as we suppose them engaged in the perpetration of a fraud. Is it urged that the hope of reward has moved many men to intense effort and sacrifice for political, philosophical, or religious doctrines, which we all know now to be false? We answer: those devotees believed them true. Christianity might, as a matter of fact, be utterly false, and yet the hope of the rewards it promises to the faithful sustain one in suffer- ing a martyr's death for it, since he believed it true. But if Christianity is false, Peter and John knew it was false, and every time they opened their mouths to say "Him hath God raised up" they knew they were lying. In short there seems to be an utter absence of each and every one of the motives which ordinarily move men to activity in fraudulent schemes. No one ever accused the Apostles of Jesus of an effort (as we say of some political leaders) "to feather their own nests." That the enemies of Christianity have not preserved such a charge against them is sufficient for thinking that the charge was never made, and we are left free to believe, as Luke relates, that they even declined the responsibilities which might have afforded them the oppor- tunity of dishonest gain (Acts 6.1-5). Neither is there any evidence that the Apostles attempted to exploit their authority over the churches which they founded so as to gratify that miserable motive of sinful humanity, the desire of holding office. But not only is there an absence of adequate motive for making and telling such a story if it were false, but we can plainly see that all the motives which ordinarily move men to activity would combine to render the Apostles silent. In these times when religious liberty is guaranteed to every one; when a man is secure in person and property, no matter what WERE THE APOSTLES IMPOSTORS? 295 the absurdity of his religious faith, we can possibly imagine a man propounding some absurd doctrine with no higher motive than the love of the cheap notoriety which it may give him. But not so in those days. With nothing to stay the fury of those whose most cherished prejudices were antago- nized, a man was likely to find his notoriety very dearly bought. Paley well puts the case thus: "There is satisfactory evidence that many professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles passed their lives in labors, dangers, and suffering, voluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered and solely in consequence of their belief in these accounts; and that they also submitted from the same motives to new rules of conduct." Our claim is simply this: that the dangers and sufferings undergone prove the sincerity of those undergoing them. It is common for the critics of Chris- tianity, to point to the fact that some devotees of some utterly false and absurd religious or philosophical theories have been willing to suffer and even to die for them. We will grant to them all that at this point we are claiming for the Christian martyrs. In each case the sufferings voluntarily undergone prove the sincerity of the sufferer. The death of Hypatia proves just what the death of a Chinese martyr proves to-day; and in each of these cases the sufferings under- gone prove just what the sufferings of the Apostolic martyrs proved, namely, the sincerity of the witness. The difference is just this: the sincerity of one sufferer involves more than the sincerity of the other. The Chinese Christian, during the Boxer outbreak, underwent suffering and death in attestation of his faith in a story which he had received from others. It may be true or it may be false without at all affecting the question of his sincerity. The first Christian martyrs died in attestation of their faith in a story of events of which they claimed to be eye and ear witnesses: a story which, if it were not true, it must be said they knew it to be false. We have already several times admitted that you can find examples of men dying for a falsehood which they believed to be true. We do deny that it is in human nature for a man to be ready 296 STUDIES IN MORAL SCIENCE to die for a falsehood which he has told and knows to be a lie. But that is just what the Apostles of Jesus did on the hypothesis that they manufactured the story of the resurrection of Jesus. We are not informed as to the number of those who pro- fessed to have seen the risen Christ. We have Paul's state- ment that there were above five hundred who saw him at one time. The writers of the Gospels evidently would not have us understand that his appearance was confined to the Apostles and the Galilean women. But as we have but meager accounts of the lives of most and of only a few know even the names, this discussion is confined to the testimony given by those of whose subsequent career or work something is known. Of the twelve Apostles Judas committed suicide. Of the eleven, every one (with Paul, who is understood to claim to be a witness) spent the remainder of his life in the propagation of the Christian faith. They uniformly assigned the resurrection of Jesus "whereof we are witnesses" as the ground of their faith. They met with ridicule and poverty and persecution. John alone, after a life of great toil and suffering, is known to have died a natural death. Of the others six certainly and probably the other four also fell victims to the fury of their enemies. The one charge against them was that they stirred up the people with matter relating to "one Jesus who was dead whom they affirmed to be alive." Let us consider what is involved in the supposition of a collusion on the part of the Apostles to commit a fraud of this character. What a strange company have here fallen together! There are perhaps a few men who will tell a lie for five cents. The number is certainly smaller who will tell it for absolutely nothing; still smaller who would combine to tell it. A still smaller number very few indeed would endure any con- siderable sacrifice for the sake of telling it; while it is incon- ceivable that any one would die a death by torture rather than quit telling it. But here we have at least ten men whose names we know who, with other conspirators, make a lie apparently without any rational motive; they tell it under all the solemnities of courts of justice. They endure hardships WERE THE APOSTLES IMPOSTORS? 297 and privations and impose on themselves labors and sacrifices for the sake of being able to tell it. Undismayed by the threats of their enemies, they persist in telling it; and finally separated from each other, in different countries, at different times, each of the ten, so far as known, dies a violent death rather than quit telling a story which he knew to be a lie! And these ten were all found in one group. All that and more the man who asserts that the Apostles of Jesus perpetrated a fraud must be prepared to believe. We must think that these witnesses believed the story which they told. Christians to-day are sometimes accused of credulity. We submit that the credulous people are not all found in the Christian church. The church has had some credulous people. It has also had its "doubting Thomases," and its intellectually "stubborn Sauls. " But the unbelieving world is more credulous than we. The man who can accept the logical consequences of the contention that the Apostles of Jesus were impostors will break the record for the ability to believe strange things with- out evidence. We say again that we will ask no man to believe, unless to him as a rational being it seems more reasonable to believe than to disbelieve. We have our choice between two marvelous things. On the one hand, there is this unprecedented per- verseness of human nature and adeptness in falsehood with no analogous case in human history; on the other, the belief that a holy and beneficent Creator desiring the highest well- being of the noblest of His earthly creatures men has chosen to reveal authoritatively His will in the person of Jesus Christ, and has given assurance thereof to all men by raising Him from the dead. CONCLUSION To examine the Evidences of Christianity was in harmony with the plan made in the earlier part of our work. Intro- ducing the discussions of Practical Ethics, noting the fields where we may look for our inductions, after naming (i) the constitution physical and psychical of the normally developed man; and (2) the experience of men in society we observed that a large number of men believe that a Deity, supposed to be beneficent and righteous, has supplemented the knowl- edge which lay within the grasp of the unassisted human understanding, by an authoritative revelation of His will "which, while not the source of Tightness, might well be thought the proof of it." We also said that "the simple possibility that such a revelation might be made will lay every reasonable man under obligation to consider attentively the genuineness and credibility of any purported revelation." The promise of that suggestion we have now fulfilled. We are sure that there is no possibility that any man who has followed our discussion with an earnest desire to know the whole truth can entertain a reasonable doubt that Jesus of Nazareth is the authoritative revelation of God to men. From such a conclusion there is but one reasonable inference: " Whatsoever He saith unto you do it." We may reasonably expect that the realization of the principles that He taught will compass the whole field of human duty. Well did Paul say, "For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believe th." Whoever desires to instruct and move men to better living, and for better character, will do best to set before them Jesus Christ, not alone as the best example of the thoroughly good man, but as the Savior of men from the guilt and dominion of sin. We submit the correctness of that statement to the experience of the race in its ethical history. We trust the reader has found the study of Moral Science 298 CONCLUSION 299 profitable. It is of advantage to us that we reduce our moral conceptions to some sort of orderly system. We find satis- faction in "getting to the bottom of things"; in finding how deeply imbedded in universal human nature are the facts of our moral consciousness. But he who attempts to reform men by preaching Moral Science is doomed to failure. It has been tried. Socrates and Plato tried it. And "after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe." "For the doctrine of the Cross is to them that are perishing foolishness, but to us who are being saved it is the power (dynamic) of God." We have no apology to make for suggesting that if any one wishes to become the best sort of man possible for him to become, to realize in its fullness the ideal manhood that the Creator wills for him; if further he desires that his life shall count for the most possible in an effort to lift this old world a little nearer to God, let him link himself up with Jesus Christ in a covenant of unconditional self-surrender. We have occasionally called attention to the elevation of individuals and communities under Christian teaching. Much has, indeed, been accomplished, and yet Christianity has not yet had a fair trial. Men have hardly dreamed of what would occur if it were generally and thoroughly applied to business, to industry, to politics, and to our social life. These fields have been touched by Christianity in only the most superficial manner. The business of the Christian world is still thoroughly pagan in its spirit, or at best is only Christianized so far as Christianity may coincide with worldly prudence. Only a few Christian men seem to think of applying Christianity to "practical politics," or to the solution of civic or international problems. And as to social life, who thinks of it as anything but an arena in which one may gain applause or win personal distinction? To follow out these suggestions and to make all our activities to be permeated with a Christian altruism as they are now with egoism, make our whole lives as full of Christ as they now are of "self" that is the problem of the twentieth century. UNIVEESITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRAEY, BEEKELEY THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW expiration of loan | * plication is made before unft NOV'B QCT151941M JAN 23 1947 R *-?ffi OCT 21. REC'D CT22B5-2PM 50m-7,'29 YB 22636 451364 - UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY