UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 ^- AT LOS ANGELES
 
 CIVILIZATION AND PROGRESS, 
 
 PRESS NOTICES. 
 
 "The book of a very able man .... The testimony 
 which we are compelled to give to the high ability of this ambitious 
 work is completely impartial .... We can have no doubt as 
 to the great ability of the book, nor as to the literary power with 
 which the thoughts it contains are often expressed .... Full 
 of original criticism .... Great literary faculty .... 
 It will rectify much that is faulty in the views of his predecessors 
 A book far less superficial than Mr. Buckle's." Spectator. 
 
 "The ability of Mr. Crozier consists in a remarkable clearness 
 of detail vision .... Fine critical observation .... 
 singular acumen of distinction the power, so to speak, of seeing 
 through millstones, of being in a manner clairvoyant .... 
 This accurate and subtle thinker." Academy. 
 
 "This is a work of real ability. It is full of thought, and its 
 style is both forcible and clear. The reader is borne on a stream 
 of strong thinking from point to point, until at last, when he pauses 
 to get a little mental breath, he finds that he has been doing almost 
 as much thinking as the author himself, so stimulating and 
 suggestive is the book, and so full is it of discriminating, vigorous, 
 and subtle ideas .... This rich and suggestive book." 
 Inquirer. 
 
 " There can be no doubt, we think, that Mr. Crozier has put his 
 linger upon the weak point in the speculations of previous writers, 
 and that he has himself laid hold of the right method for the 
 adequate treatment of his subject .... The work is one of 
 real and pre-eminent merit, and will deservedly take a high place 
 in the class of literature to which it belongs." Scottish Review.
 
 Civilization and Progress, 
 Outlines of a new system. 
 
 John Beattie Crozier. 
 Third Edition* 
 
 Longmans, Green, & Co 
 1893.

 
 \ O \ 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 4 THE high and generous recognition which has been 
 
 * accorded to this work by a few of the foremost thinkers 
 
 and critics of the time has encouraged me to issue a 
 
 and cheaper edition, with the view of bringing it 
 within the compass of a wider circle of readers. In 
 doing so, I gladly avail myself of the opportunity thus 
 afforded me of saying a word or two on one and another 
 of the various difficulties and' objections which some of 
 <$ these critics have found either in my treatment of the 
 i subject, or in the special views and opinions presented 
 
 V for consideration. 
 ^ 
 
 The first of these objections turns on the New 
 
 Organon or Method which I have proposed for the 
 solution of the problems discussed, and the necessity 
 there was for its introduction and use. Now, as the 
 main object of this work was not so much to present 
 the reader with a brand-new theory of Civilization, as to 
 so re-arrange, modify, and develop the various elements 
 of older theories as to fit them into a new and more 
 harmonious structure, it is evident that many compli- 
 cations, both in method and in treatment, had to be 
 
 189819
 
 iv. PREFACE. 
 
 cleared away before I could enter with confidence on 
 my central problem, which was to determine, if possible, 
 more accurately and scientifically than had hitherto been 
 attempted, the relative parts played in Civilization by 
 the great organic factors of Religion, Government, 
 Science, and Material and Social Conditions generally, 
 and to connect these factors by such stringent laws 
 and relations that the whole would be seen to form one 
 single and harmonious scheme. In endeavouring to 
 carry out my object, the first difficulty I had to 
 encounter was that presented by the various and diverg- 
 ent standpoints occupied by existing students of Civi- 
 lization standpoints as various and divergent as the 
 various sciences from which the problem was approached. 
 The Historian, for example, whether of the narrative 
 or the philosophical school, is apt to feel that a 
 sufficient theory of Civilization will have been attained 
 when once the mines of history shall have been minutely 
 and exhaustively explored, and the results collated and 
 embodied in some one or more wide and far-reaching 
 generalizations ; the Christian Theologian, when he 
 has referred its phenomena to the presence or absence 
 from the thoughts and lives of men of that Spirit which 
 Christ promised to leave to the world after he was 
 gone ; while the Physical and Psychological Scientist 
 thinks the course of Civilization sufficiently accounted 
 for, either by representing it as the continuation into the 
 mental and moral world of the same impersonal law of 
 Evolution which rules the physical ; or by referring 
 many of its most striking phenomena notably those 
 fanaticisms and enthusiasms which have given rise to 
 religions, and changed the face of the world to the
 
 PREFACE. v . 
 
 effects produced by material conditions of the brain on 
 mental states. And as all these types of Thinkers have 
 carried into their survey of Civilization the methods and 
 standpoints of the respective studies to which they are 
 attached ; and as, further, the method of each is con- 
 sidered by the rest to be false or incompetent, and all 
 are felt to be more or less partial and incomplete ; it was 
 incumbent on me to try and discover, if possible, some 
 new organon or method which should be commensurate 
 with the full breadth of the problem to be solved, and 
 which, while freely using all these various sciences as 
 instruments of investigation, should become itself the sole 
 and only standpoint of interpretation. Accordingly, after 
 passing under review the various sciences History, 
 Physical Science, Metaphysics, Psychology, Theology, 
 and the rest and marking out the limits beyond which 
 their various methods were inapplicable, I proceeded 
 to explain my own method, which was simply this 
 to take my stand on Human Nature as we know it 
 to-day, to detach its laws from the web in which they 
 lie and make them my standpoint of interpretation, 
 while using the various sciences as subordinate instru- 
 ments to furnish me with the materials and results 
 required. Such is my new organon and the necessity I 
 felt for its use and adoption. That there is nothing 
 strange in this may be seen in the practice of those who 
 have to deal with any wide class of confused and con- 
 flicting phenomena. The Statesman, for example, who 
 is obliged to call in for consultation and advice, lawyers, 
 doctors, soldiers, seamen, vestrymen, and divines, is 
 unable to take the standpoint of any of his advisers, but 
 must occupy another and different one proper to his own
 
 vi. PREFACE. 
 
 particular problem ; for while hearing what the doctors 
 have to say as to the necessity of compulsory vaccination, 
 he has still to consider the effects of compulsion on 
 individual liberty ; what the War Office and Admiralty 
 have to say as to the necessity of increased armaments, 
 has still to consider their relations to the public purse ; 
 what the vestrymen or philanthropists have to say on 
 the necessity of further poor-relief, has still to consider 
 its effects on the springs and incentives of industry ; and 
 the like. 
 
 Again, in endeavouring to show that all the old 
 religions of the world contained, wrapped up in their 
 structure, philosophies of the origin and nature of things 
 more or less adapted to their age and time, I pointed out 
 that the great role played by religions in the practical life 
 of the past was due to these philosophies embedded in 
 their creeds ; and I contended that when once Science 
 shall have taken over these philosophies from Religion, 
 and added them to her own proper domain, as she is 
 doing more and more every day, Religion, having lost its 
 jurisdiction over that part of the field, will no longer have 
 any effect on action, but will be restricted to its natural, 
 proper, and perennial function of harmonizing the heart 
 and mind. On arriving at this point, one of the acutest 
 of my critics was brought to a stand, and imagining that 
 my words conveyed the impression that Religion would 
 no longer be of any practical value at all, argued, on the 
 contrary, that a book might still be written to show how 
 immense must ever be its practical influence on human 
 life. Now the fault here, I have no doubt, lay with 
 myself in not more distinctly explaining that when I said 
 that Religion in the future would have no effect on action,
 
 PREFACE vii 
 
 what I meant was, not that it would not be of any 
 practical value (for any theory that generates conviction, 
 and gives unity and harmony to both mind and heart, 
 must give a stimulus and impulse to action which can 
 never be attained when mind and heart are rent in twain 
 by Scepticism), but that it would no longer dictate our 
 specific actions, as, for example, whether we should take 
 usury or not, drink wine or not, give alms or not, per- 
 secute heretics or not, but would leave all this to its 
 proper sphere of Science, with its balanced considerations 
 of expediency, and its jurisdiction over the realm of 
 calculable cause and effect. 
 
 Another of my critics, observing the immense influence 
 often exerted over individual men by direct moral exhorta- 
 tion and appeal in spite of unfavourable physical and 
 material conditions of life, found fault with me for insist- 
 ing as strongly as I did that the controlling factor in 
 Civilization was not the more or less preaching of morality, 
 but the material and social conditions of men ; that, in 
 truth, you can get at morality in societies only through 
 improvements in these conditions ; and that before you 
 can get a further advance at any given stage, these con- 
 ditions must be more equalized ; the active agent in the 
 successive equalizations being, as I have shown, Science 
 in the widest sense of that term, with its application to 
 all the arts, comforts, and conveniences of life. Now, 
 although in saying this I myself fully recognize the great 
 reclamations and improvements worked in individual 
 natures by direct appeals to their intellects, consciences, 
 and hearts, independently of any change in their merely 
 material and social conditions, I feel still bound to point 
 out, what my critic seems to have overlooked, that I am
 
 viii. PREFACE. 
 
 dealing in this work with the problem of Civilization, 
 that is to say, with the laws which govern the move- 
 ments of men in societies and masses, and not with 
 what concerns man as an individual unit ; and that 
 the laws which determine the progress of the one 
 are practically as different from those which determine 
 the progress of the other, as the laws of bodies in 
 the mass are practically different from the laws of the 
 particles of which they are composed. In actual life, 
 this is everywhere recognized. If you take, for example, 
 any high-class journal which deals alike with Politics and 
 Religion say, for example, The Spectator and run your 
 eye along the series of articles under each of these re- 
 spective headings, you will find that the considerations 
 advanced in the one case are quite different from those in 
 the other ; that while in the articles dealing with Religion, 
 that is to say, those which appeal to man as an individual 
 unit, the writer expects to influence the reader by present- 
 ing him with higher and truer 'ideas, with nobler standards 
 of morality, and the like ; in the articles dealing with 
 Politics, or society as a whole, the argument proceeds 
 almost entirely on the assumption that improvements are 
 to be effected in men only by alterations in their general 
 material and social conditions. The truth is, the two 
 problems, viz., of Society and of the Individual, are quite 
 distinct and separate in nature, and require quite distinct 
 and separate treatment ; and hence the large space devoted 
 in this work to proving, by illustrations drawn from even 
 quarter of life, that all attempts to forward civilization by 
 direct moral exhortation or appeal, in the face of material 
 and social conditions adverse to its reception, are dreams 
 of the closet only.
 
 PREFACE. ix. 
 
 In conclusion, I may add that in a work dealing with 
 so wide and complex a subject as Civilization, it was 
 inevitable that if I were to attain to results of a definite 
 and scientific character, I should have to hew my way 
 through all manner of obstructions, and through all forms 
 of accepted doctrine and tradition. I hope, however, 
 that in every instance in which I have been forced into 
 collision with other and abler minds, I shall be found to 
 have represented them with that fairness, and spoken of 
 them with that courtesy and respect, which is due alike to 
 their high and unselfish aims, and to the depth of my own 
 indebtedness to their labours ; and in leaving the work to 
 the reader, I trust I may rely on his giving it that patient 
 consideration which not any pretensions of mine, but the 
 importance of its subject, the sincerity of its purpose, 
 and the long labour spent on it some ten years in pre- 
 paration, and four in actual construction and writing 
 may claim at his hands. 
 
 24, ELGIN AVENUE, 
 W. 
 
 January, 1888.
 
 SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS. 
 
 PART I.-A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 HISTORY DESCRIPTIVE. 
 
 New direction taken by History Appeal to Tradition 
 Carlyle's view Panorama of History What light 
 does History throw on Present or Future? Accottnts 
 for the Present but does not explain it What we 
 want to know is not how Institutions came here, 
 but their effects now that they are here History 
 does not give this A Science of Politics needed 
 Influence of New Men cannot be Predicted Effects 
 of Institutions can Assumed in all Legislation 
 History can neither direct Imagination in choice of 
 Ideals, Conscience as to Conduct, or Reason as to 
 Action This can only be had from insight into 
 To-day. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HISTORY PHILOSOPHICAL. 
 
 Gibbon, Hume, Macaulay, and Carlyle, and their Methods 
 History gets all its light from To-day Must inter- 
 pret Past by Present Method of Analogy Shake- 
 speare Platitudes of History The Positive Value 
 of History History and Miracles Lord Bacon 
 and Witchcraft Comets Philosophical Theories 
 of History not so much deduced from the Facts 
 as projected into them Antony and Cleopatra 
 Herbert Spencer, Comte, Buckle, Montesquieu, 
 Carlyle. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 METAPHYSICS. 
 
 Resume Physical Science and Political Economy not 
 the Organon we require Metaphysics deals with 
 words only, and ends in analysis Illustrations 
 Theological Metaphysics and the " Infinite " Meta- 
 physics not the instrument we require.
 
 xii. SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 PSYCHOLOGY. 
 
 Influence of Biology on Metaphysics Use made of it 
 by Herbert Spencer Psychology, like Metaphysics, 
 ends in analysis merely Not the Organon we want 
 - Positive contributions of Psychology, and its 
 effects on Religion and Practical Life Physical 
 Science useful as Instrument of Investigation, false 
 as Standpoint of Interpretation. It cannot give us 
 the idea of quality, or the idea of cause Illustrations 
 from Herbert Spencer His fallacies. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 
 
 His Character and Intellectual Perplexities His " Gram- 
 mar of Assent" and "Illative Sense '' Locke and 
 Newman How he gets rid of Science Refutation 
 of his doctrine of " Assent " Chooses his Religion 
 by the " Illative Sense "--The " Illative Sense " only 
 another name for Art, or Science applied. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 THE NEW ORGANON. 
 
 Recognized Instruments of Knowledge discarded Resume 
 of Reasons The New Organon, what is it ? How 
 it works Illustrations from Shakespeare, Bacon, 
 Goethe, Emerson, and Carlyle How these differ 
 from Metaphysicians and Novelists, and from 
 Scientists and Theologians The method of " de- 
 tachment." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SUPERNATURALISM VCrSUS SCIENCE. 
 
 Supernaturalist and Scientist contrasted Supernaturalism 
 credible in time of St. Paul How affected now by 
 the law of Wills and Causes The principle of In- 
 dividuation and its bearings on the Origin of Evil 
 Illustrations Consolations of Supernaturalism The 
 satisfaction of the Feelings no proof of the truth 
 of the Doctrine Illustrations Perplexities of Super- 
 naturalism Civilization and the " Spirit of Christ "- 
 Effects of Supernaturalism and Science contrasted.
 
 SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS. xiii. 
 
 PART II.-THE GOAL. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How is JUSTICE DONE ? 
 
 " How from a Universe of Knaves to get a common 
 Honesty? "-The Ideal in Man, and how it becomes 
 the Public Conscience The Ring of Spectators Its 
 bearing on Progress and Civilization Illustrations 
 Education. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE END OF GOVERNMENT. 
 
 Why necessary to determine it ? Society as a whole 
 versus the Individual Order and Progress The 
 Elevation of the Individual the End of Nature, the 
 Aim of Government, and the Goal of Civilization 
 Illustrations from Nature and Society Duty a Means 
 not an End Illustrations from History. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE POLITICS OF COMTE. 
 
 Comte and Carlyle Comte's attempt to reconcile Order 
 and Progress Carlyle and Emerson Why Comte 
 made Humanity the central point of his System 
 Logical concatenation of his Political Scheme Its 
 examination and refutation His neglect of two great 
 Laws ; first, that men are alike in their Essential 
 Natures ; second, that they are led by the Imagination 
 Proofs and Illustrations. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 POLITICS OF CARLYLE. 
 
 General Agreement of Comte and Carlyle Their 
 Differences Hero-worship Logical Concatenation 
 of Carlyle's Political Scheme His neglect of two 
 great Laws ; first, that men must have Change and 
 Rotation in the Objects of their Admiration and 
 Worship ; second, that men are alike in their 
 Essential Natures Illustrations The Fallacy of 
 Making Society as a whole the end of Political 
 Action, illustrated by the Schemes of Comte and 
 Carl vie Order and Progress Reconciled.
 
 SUMMARY OP CHAPTERS. 
 
 PART III.-THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 THE LAW OF WILLS AND CAUSES. 
 
 The new form Religion has assumed Comte's State- 
 ment of it the most complete How it essentially 
 differs from the Old Forms Logical Coherence of 
 Comte's Religious System The Law of Wills and 
 Causes How by means of it Comte gets rid of the 
 Deity as the Object of Religion Comte and the 
 Object of the Religious Sentiment Humanity. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Difference between Knowledge and Belief Six Truths 
 which must be believed, but cannot be known by 
 Science These Truths the Foundation-stones of all 
 our Intelligence Effect of the Discovery of the Law 
 of Wills and Causes on my own mind Belief in a 
 Great Cause of Things necessary to harmonize the 
 Mind Reasons Anthropomorphism and its Neces- 
 sity Scientific Causation explained, and its effects 
 on Religion pointed out Refutation of Materialism 
 Differences between scientific and real causation. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 A CONFUSION OF PLANES. 
 
 Religion has its Object in the Plane of the Transcen- 
 dental Mr. Spencer's admission of this quoted 
 Comte confounds the Sphere of Duty with the 
 Sphere of Religion Frederic Harrison quoted 
 Other Uses of the term Religion examined Meaning 
 of Religion in its True Sense Why Humanity is not 
 the proper Object of Religion Why it cannot 
 practically be made an Object of Worship Fallacy 
 of regarding Humanity as the Supreme Being 
 exposed Arguments and Illustrations.
 
 SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS. 
 
 PART 1V.-RELIGION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PRELIMINARY. 
 
 Herbert Spencer's Theory of the Origin of Religions 
 How my Object differs from his, and the Results to 
 be expected from that Difference Religion at 
 bottom an Intellectual Belief The Theory that it is a 
 matter of Faith or Morality examined and refuted 
 Professor Tyndall's Theory of the Nature of Religion 
 examined and refuted Logical Consistency of 
 Religious Superstitions The Theory that Religion 
 is a matter of Emotion examined Complications 
 being swept away, the way is now open to determine 
 the Laws on which all Religions are constructed. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE LAW OF REFLEXION. 
 
 The two great Laws on which all Religions are con- 
 structed The Number and Character of the Gods 
 of any Religion depend on the First Law The 
 relation in which Men stand to these Gods on the 
 Second Law Illustrations and Proofs Evolution 
 of the character of the Gods shewn in History 
 Apparent exceptions explained Later complications. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE LAW OF THE BALANCES. 
 
 What it is The Law of Evolution a Corollary from it 
 Their respective Uses The part played by the Law 
 of the Balances in Poetry and Art Proof that all 
 Religions are constructed on this Law Religions 
 both constructed and evolved Effects of Individual 
 Genius on the evolution of Religions illustrated 
 Effects of Expediency and Tradition The extent to 
 which the Theory of Evolution can throw light on 
 Religion.
 
 xvi. SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 MENTAL EFFECTS. 
 
 The first function of Religion is to satisfy the craving 
 of the intellect for the Cause and Origin of Things 
 Religions always contain Philosophies embedded in 
 their structure The second function of Religion is 
 to satisfy the cravings of the imagination and heart 
 Differences between Religion and Philosophy- 
 Reasons why Evolution must always be under- 
 pinned by Religion Summary of the part played 
 by Religion in Human Life. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PRACTICAL RESULTS. 
 
 Complications that must be cleared away before the 
 natural effects of Religion on Action can be clearly 
 seen Stage of Culture and of Moral Refinement 
 Temperament Heaven and Hell Enthusiasm 
 Religion and Public Opinion Summary and Con- 
 clusion. 
 
 PART V.-GOVERNMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ARISTOCRACY PRELIMINARY. 
 
 Classes not governed by the same Moral Principles as 
 individuals A Scale of Moralities International 
 Morality Class Morality Social Morality Effects 
 of the principle of Aristocracy on the masses of Men, 
 and the complications which obscure it The Idea at 
 the root of every society, and its effects The Aris- 
 tocracy our national Ideal.
 
 SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS. xvii. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ARISTOCRACY MORAL AND SOCIAL EFFECTS. 
 
 The essential Likeness of Men Effects of the Idea of 
 Inequality when made the basis of a social structure 
 Illustrations Aristocracy and Democracy compared 
 in their effects on the minds of Men Their re- 
 spective Codes of Morality Lord and Serf. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL ILLUSIONS. 
 
 Arguments from History as to the dangers of Democracy 
 Their fallacies exposed Republics of Rome, 
 Greece, France, and America considered Neglect 
 of the element of Time Illusions that spring from 
 this neglect in Religion, Morals and Politics. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL DANGERS. 
 
 Danger from absence of Hereditary Nobility Fallacy 
 exposed Local Governing Bodies as Centres of 
 Resistance Danger from Ambition of Individuals 
 France Differences between America and France 
 Safeguards in Principle of Association and Educa- 
 tion Inferior importance of the Politician in 
 Democracies Other Safeguards Danger from 
 excessive Individualism Antagonism of Material 
 Interests a Safeguard Special Dangers in America 
 Their Remedy Dangers from Weakness of Execu- 
 tive Difficulties of Democracy. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 DEMOCRACY THE DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 Belief in the Orator His Danger in Democracies 
 Picture of a Political Debating Room Exaggerated 
 conception of the qualities of a Statesman General 
 influence of the Statesman The Demagogue and 
 Foreign Affairs Danger from him in the Future.
 
 xviii. SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 DEMOCRACY THE MARCH OF CONCENTRATION. 
 
 Fear of an Industrial Aristocracy Fallacy and Safe- 
 guards Effects of Monopoly Henry George. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 DEMOCRACY MORALITY. 
 
 De Tocqueville and the " Tyranny of the Majority "- 
 Aristocracies and Democracies compared in this 
 Respect Low Tone of Morality in Democracies 
 Reasons for this Individualism and Egotism Envy 
 a Vice of Democracies Its Form in Aristocracies- 
 Its Uses. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 DEMOCRACY SOCIETY. 
 
 Charge of Monotony Society Picturesque in Aristocra- 
 cies, Individuals in Democracies Charge of Want 
 of Culture Education more general, but Culture 
 less than in Aristocracies Reasons and Illustra- 
 tions Importance of Manners Manners bad in 
 Democracies Reasons Differences in points of 
 View. 
 
 PART VI.-THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HISTORICAL. 
 
 Existing Theories of Progress unsatisfactory Comte's 
 failure to grasp the Controlling Factor Guizot 
 deals with Special Causes, not General Laws of 
 Civilization Buckle's Theory Its Incompleteness 
 pointed out Carlyle's Theory How it differs from 
 Buckle's Herbert Spencer's Theory too wide and 
 general for Practical Purposes Scope of my own 
 attempt.
 
 SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS. xix. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 
 
 All Thinkers divided into two great Schools on this 
 question Those who hold by the preaching of 
 Morality, and those who hold by ameliorating the 
 Material and Social Conditions Comte and Carlyle 
 represent the first Chain of Thought by which they 
 respectively arrive at their conclusion My own 
 View Illustrations and proofs of the dependence 
 of Morality on the Conditions of Life Parents 
 Press American Slavery Crusades The Reforma- 
 tion French Revolution Proofs from Laws of the 
 Mind and of the World From Practical Life From 
 Society in General From Intellectual Advancement 
 From Failure of Attempts to Realize Higher 
 Ideals From the Genesis of Ideals From the 
 Practical Methods of the Statesman From the 
 Fears of Men Material and Social Conditions not 
 sole Cause but Controlling Factor in Civilization. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE EQUALIZATION OF CONDITIONS. 
 
 In what does Civilization consist ? Two Movements, 
 Lateral and Vertical Thucydides The Equalization 
 of Conditions indispensable to a further Advance in 
 Civilization -- Illustrated by small States, huge 
 Armaments, and old "Balance of Power" Practical 
 Statesmanship works by Equalizing Conditions 
 The Revolution The Reform Bill Trades' Unionism 
 Land League Early days of California Superior 
 and Inferior Slavery Illustrations from the Past 
 Chiefs Kings Written Law Scientific Judicature 
 How they extend Justice by more and more 
 Equalizing the Conditions Illustrations from His- 
 torical Cataclysms The Downfall of the Roman 
 Empire Feudalism Border- Raiders Society not 
 Homogeneous Complications The rise in Men's 
 Ideals made possible only by successive Equalizations 
 of their Material and Social Conditions Proofs and 
 Illustrations from History and the Present Time.
 
 xx. SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 STATICS. 
 
 The four great factors in Civilization First, Religion 
 Second, Material and Social Conditions Third, 
 Religion in its character as Philosophy Fourth, 
 Science, physical and mental Summary of part 
 played by Religion in Civilization Of part played by 
 Material and Social Conditions On Religion in its 
 character as Philosophy What is its normal function ? 
 Historical and other illustrations Summary of part 
 played by Science Influence of Science in equal- 
 izing conditions of life illustrated Negative effects of 
 Science on Religion and on Society Proofs from 
 History of Eastern Civilizations Why Science did 
 not arise in the East Why the Priests attained to 
 supremacy in the East Origin of Caste Stagna- 
 tion Influence of Mental Science on Civilization 
 Progress"shewn in successive Religions Art, Science, 
 Poetry, Industrial Arts, Practical Morality, all results 
 of combination among the above primary factors. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 DYNAMICS. 
 
 The parts played by the factors in combination The 
 Ideal in Man Each Religion satisfies the longings of 
 the Individual Religious philosophies have affected 
 the race in proportion to the amount of insight em- 
 bodied in them Hindooism Mahommedanism 
 Stoicism Judaism Christianity Catholicism 
 Protestantism No Religion can jump the element 
 of Time for the race, but must wait for the dilatory 
 Material and Social Conditions The illusory hopes 
 created by the neglect of the element of Time 
 Evidences of real moral advances in Civilization 
 Their immediate dependence on the Material and 
 Social Conditions Things make their own Morality 
 Belief and Sight The dynamical or initiative force 
 in Civilization is the Ideal in Man Its different 
 sides Panoramic view of Christianity Spiritual 
 Thinkers Modern Science The Future.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 IN the present work I propose to trace the great laws of 
 ' Civilization and Progress, and to exhibit, in as systematic 
 a form as possible, the parts played respectively in Civili- 
 zation by Religion, Government, Science, and the general 
 Material and Social Conditions of the world. But just as 
 in a watch the connexion of each wheel and movement 
 with every other must be known and adjusted before the 
 watch can be of any practical service; or as in an 
 'electrical apparatus the connexion between all the links 
 of the circuit must be established before the machine can 
 be made available for working purposes ; so, until the laws 
 which unite each of the great factors of Civilization with 
 every other are known and understood, we cannot have a 
 Theory of Civilization which will be of practical value, 
 either as enabling us the better to understand the Past, 
 or as affording us guidance for the Future ;. the failure to 
 apprehend the part played by any one of the factors 
 completely vitiating the practical value of the theory as a 
 whole. Now although the illustrious Thinkers, who up to 
 the present time have been engaged on the problem of 
 Civilization, have succeeded, in the face of enormous 
 difficulties, in establishing the true relations existing 
 between certain of the factors, none of them, in my 
 opinion, have clearly established the true relations existing 
 
 B
 
 2 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 between them all, and none of them therefore have given 
 us a Theory of Civilization that can lay any claim to com- 
 pleteness. Comte, for example, although he succeeded in 
 working out, with great brilliancy and with an abundance 
 of historical detail, the relations existing between Religion 
 and Science, failed to discover the link that united 
 Religion with Material and Social Conditions generally; 
 and so was unable to bring a full and complete theory to 
 bear on the interpretation of the Past or the guidance of 
 the Present. Buckle, again, although he set forth, with 
 much force and clearness, the part played in Civilization 
 by Science, and by Material and Social Conditions, left 
 the parts played by Religion and Government dark and 
 confused ; while Mr. Herbert Spencer, concerning himself 
 only with demonstrating that Civilization, like all other 
 phenomena, follows the general Law of Evolution, has 
 not attempted to show the parts played in it respectively 
 by Religion, Government, Science, and Material and 
 Social Conditions. In attempting, therefore, to ado) to the 
 inheritance of thought bequeathed to us by these great 
 Thinkers, I shall endeavour, by means of the super- 
 structure which they have erected, to carry the solution 
 of the problem a step higher, and by taking advantage of 
 the lights which they have planted in different portions of 
 the field, to carry the torch of Science still farther into 
 the darkness. But instead of pursuing the enquiries 
 begun by them into further or finer detail, I prefer to^ 
 concentrate all my efforts on the discovery of the laws 
 uniting those factors which they have left unconnected ; 
 and so, if possible, by completing the circuit of connexion 
 at all points, to establish the outlines of a Philosophy of 
 Civilization which shall be sufficiently vital and well- 
 jointed to stand on its feet, and enable us to interpret the 
 Past, and in a measure afford us guidance for the Future. 
 In the method, however, which I find it necessary to 
 employ to reach my ends, I differ almost entirely from 
 these distinguished Thinkers. For while they have either,
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 3 
 
 like Comte and Buckle, taken their stand on the Past, 
 and from the generalization of what are called the facts of 
 History, have sought to interpret the Present and forecast 
 the Future ; or starting, like Mr. Herbert Spencer, from 
 some more or less comprehensive generalization of the 
 external world as, for example, from the Law of Evolu- 
 tion have cast their hypotheses, like nets, into the sea 
 of History, landing only such facts as fall within their 
 range ; I have taken as my point of departure the 
 essential identity of the human mind in every age and 
 clime, and have sought to trace the progress of Civilization 
 to the union of this constant nature with the various 
 Material and Social Conditions of the Past, regarding the 
 facts of History as instructive commentary only. In a 
 word, while former Thinkers have made historical data the 
 main-stay of their theories, and have regarded the Human 
 Mind as practically of subordinate importance, I have 
 taken my stand on the constant nature of Man, and have 
 regarded the facts of History as but appendage and 
 illustration. 
 
 To justify so wide a departure from the ordinary 
 methods of interpretation, and to show that a new method 
 is absolutely necessary and must be systematically em- 
 ployed if we are to attain to scientific truth in these 
 higher departments of speculation, I have opened with 
 a section which I have entitled A New Organon. Under 
 this section I have arranged most of the ordinary and 
 recognised instruments of knowledge, physical and mental; 
 and, while attempting to show precisely the part they play 
 in human Thought and Culture, I at the same time point 
 out that none of them can furnish us with the organon 
 we require for the problem of Civilization. I show 
 that while Civilization includes within itself the great 
 transactions of History, yet History, neither in its 
 narrative nor in its philosophical form, can furnish us 
 with what we require ; that while it includes the great 
 results of Physical Science, Physical Science is not the
 
 4 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 method ; that while it has to do with the thoughts and 
 feelings of men, neither Metaphysics nor Psychology, which 
 deal with these thoughts and feelings, will serve us ; that 
 while it is largely concerned with Commerce and Industry, 
 Political Economy cannot help us ; and finally, that 
 while it is full of the results of religious beliefs, Theology 
 is of no avail for the solution of the problem. Having 
 thus thrown out the ordinary instruments of knowledge as 
 unsuited to my purpose, I then endeavour to show what 
 that New Organon is which must be persistently employed, 
 if we are to establish a Science of Civilization that shall 
 bear practical fruit ; and, further, I show that it is to the 
 neglect of this organon or instrument that are traceable 
 not only the main illusions of life, but also most of those 
 political and social Utopias into which thinkers of the 
 highest eminence have fallen, both in ancient and modern 
 times. 
 
 Having illustrated in detail the importance of the new 
 method which I propose to employ in my enquiries into 
 the Laws of Civilization, I am in a position to enter on the 
 main business of this work ; and, accordingly, after 
 attempting to answer the question, How are Civilization 
 and Progress possible at all, in a world where the selfish 
 and anti-social instincts are stronger than the social and 
 unselfish ? or, as Carlyle has it, how from a world of 
 knaves to get an honesty from their united action ? I come 
 to the first and all-essential problem to be solved, viz. : 
 What is the goal of Civilization ; the aim that Nature has 
 at heart ; the end to which all political and social arrange- 
 ments are but means, and to which all individual efforts 
 .should be directed ; and in determining this, I shall have 
 indirectly determined the main and essential element in 
 Civilization itself. Now, in order to furnish a solution that 
 shall be broad and comprehensive, at the same time that 
 it is sufficiently definite and precise, I shall, in the first 
 place, proceed by a direct inspection of Nature herself; 
 and, in the second place (and by way of affording an
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 5 
 
 indirect or side light on this important question, and 
 bringing it into greater relief), I shall contrast the views 
 held on it by the two opposite schools into one or other 
 of which all Systematic Thinkers may be drafted ; tracing 
 these divergences of opinion to their secret roots in opposite 
 views of the nature of Man, and of what constitutes 
 his highest welfare. And as I give my own firm adhesion 
 to the one side in this conflict of opposing camps, I hope 
 to exhibit the weakness of the other by showing the primary 
 Laws of the Human Mind which it has neglected, and 
 the Utopias to which this 1 neglect gives rise when projected, 
 like the image of a camera, on the vast canvas of the world. 
 For just as the smallest angle at the centre of a circle, if 
 ignored or neglected, will subtend, in proportion to the 
 vastness of the field, wide and unsightly gaps in the cir- 
 cumference ; or as the smallest want of proportion in a 
 miniature will, if sufficiently expanded, show as a foul and 
 ugly distortion ; so the smallest neglect of any of the 
 primary laws of the human mind will, when embodied in 
 theories of the world, in schemes of political regeneration, 
 ideals of society, and the' like, end in Utopias and 
 chimeras. An examination of the two most pregnant of 
 these political and social Utopias will serve to expose 
 the errors that lie concealed in the central conceptions 
 from which they take their rise, and will assist the 
 reader to a just decision on the all-important question 
 involved. 
 
 The goal to which Civilization is gradually tending 
 being thus determined, I shall next attempt to estimate 
 the parts played in it by Religion, Government, Science, 
 and Material and Social Conditions respectively, in 
 order that I may afterwards treat of these factors in com- 
 bination, and show how the successive steps of Progress 
 have been slowly realised in the past those moral 
 conquests won by man from the realm of barbarism and 
 night. And throughout the whole enquiry I shall follow 
 the method indicated in the chapter on the New Organon,
 
 6 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 seeking to bring the constant Laws of the Human Mind, 
 in their fulness and entirety, to bear on the different periods 
 of the Past, always of course allowing for the difference in 
 the circumstances and conditions of different times ; 
 much in the same way as, in a telescope, we allow for 
 different distances by adjusting the segments, while the 
 lens or eye of the instrument remains all the while 
 unchanged. 
 
 In attempting to estimate the part played in Civilization 
 and Progress by Religion, I shall be obliged to define at 
 the outset the sense in which the term Religion is to be 
 used, as of late years Comte and his disciples have put 
 forward the claims of Humanity to be worshipped in the 
 same sense, and on the same footing, as the deities of the 
 old religions. A critical examination accordingly of the 
 Religion of Humanity will show us the special and excep- 
 tional sense in which alone Humanity can be legitimately 
 said to be an object of Religion, and will leave us with 
 certain clearly-defined ideas with which to enter on the 
 subject of Religion in its wide and generally-accepted 
 sense. 
 
 The \vay thus cleared, I shall invite the reader to a 
 consideration of the subject of Religion in general, and my 
 first attempt will be, after giving the question a form 
 sufficiently definite to admit of a scientific solution, to 
 point out the two great laws on which all Religions what- 
 ever have been constructed, and along the lines of which 
 they have all been, and will continue to be, evolved. If I 
 shall have succeeded in carrying the reader with me so 
 far, I shall then be in a position to mark out, more pre- 
 cisely and scientifically, the part played by Religion in 
 Civilization and Human Life its effects on the intellect, 
 heart, and conduct of men ; the laws on which religions 
 are constructed being the other side, as it were, of the 
 necessities of thought and feeling which these religions 
 are adapted to meet and satisfy. And while some persons 
 believe that Religion does everything for human life, and
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 7 
 
 others that it does nothing, or worse than nothing, my 
 endeavour shall be to estimate, in as scientific a way as 
 is open to me, what it does do, and what it does not and 
 cannot do. 
 
 Having exhibited the part played by Religion on Civili- 
 zation and Progress, I come next to the part played by 
 Government. Now, as the form of government existing 
 in any country should be in a general way the outcome 
 .and reflex of the intellectual, social, and material con- 
 ditions of that country, it is evident that, politically speaking, 
 all forms of government are alike good or bad according 
 as they are well or ill adapted to the time or circum- 
 stances. But, morally and socially speaking, these different 
 forms of government have the most widely different 
 results. Now to exhibit these moral and social effects and 
 these, after all, are the essential elements in Civilization 
 all forms of government may for convenience be divided 
 into two classes the aristocratic and the democratic. 
 The essence of Aristocracy is the inequality of Men's 
 Material and Social Conditions, and includes all forms of 
 Despotism, Imperialism, Kingship, Oligarchism, and the 
 like ; the essence of Democracy is the equality of Men's 
 Material and Social Conditions, and includes, besides 
 democracies pure and simple, all forms of Socialism that 
 are of natural and spontaneous growth (and not mere 
 paper Utopias), and which are but the carrying of the 
 principle of equality from the political sphere, still further 
 into the material and social sphere. But to ensure the 
 reader against the risk of being led into the region of 
 misty, vague, and unprofitable speculations, and also to 
 test the truth or falsehood of the doctrines enumerated by 
 the touchstone of actual fact, I have exemplified the effects 
 of Aristocracy and Democracy respectively by the existing 
 condition of England and America, with just so much 
 reference to other democracies of the ancient and modern 
 world, as shall bring out aspects of political law not else- 
 where to be seen. In doing this, I have endeavoured so to
 
 8 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 free the essential characteristics of Aristocracy and De- 
 mocracy from the complications and illusions that obscure 
 them, that the great Laws of Society may be clearly 
 exposed. For just as the highest service the dramatist 
 can render us is so to present a number of concrete men 
 and women, variously related, and of different characters,, 
 that by their action and interaction on one another they 
 may exhibit laws of the human mind, that shall be true of 
 all men and in all times ; so the highest problem of the 
 Political Thinker is, from the relations existing between 
 different concrete institutions and forms of government, 
 and the character of the people living under them, to 
 establish laws of such universality that, due allowance 
 being made for compensating circumstances and con- 
 ditions, they will account for the great characteristics of 
 any nation and of any age. 
 
 The parts played in Civilization and Progress by Re- 
 ligion and Government having been determined, and the: 
 course of the discussion having also brought out pro- 
 minently the parts played by Science and Material and 
 Social Conditions generally, it then becomes possible to- 
 treat of these great factors in combination. But before I 
 can exhibit the laws that connect each of these factors- 
 with every other, so that the whole shall form the coherent 
 unity called Civilization, which marches along the ages, 
 and in its evolution throws off along its track the different 
 , /-< special civilizations of the world, it is necessary to de- 
 termine the controlling factor, the factor on which all the 
 others depend, and from which they take their initiative 
 and word of command ; the factor, in a word, which must 
 be practically addressed if Civilization is to be advanced 
 or retarded. This being determined, I shall then ask 
 how this controlling factor must be affected to make each 
 successive advance in Civilization possible; and this in 
 turn being answered, it will only remain to exhibit the 
 way in which the different factors have acted and inter- 
 acted on each other as they have come down through the
 
 INTRODUCTORY. g. 
 
 long ages of the Past, and will continue to act and interact 
 far into the unknown Future. 
 
 The reader may possibly have anticipated that the 
 execution of a plan so wide and comprehensive would 
 cover even a larger space than that which in this work I 
 have given it. When a writer bases his Theory of Civili- 
 zation on the alleged facts and details of History, rather 
 than on the Laws of the Human Mind, there is no doubt 
 that bulk is indispensable, even inevitable ; and in pro- 
 portion to the reconditeness of the causes to which 
 political and social phenomena are referred, and their 
 remoteness from the ordinary motives that actuate 
 human beings, must be the volume of evidence by which 
 they are supported ; as in the Early Church, in proportion 
 to the incredibility of the miracles recorded, were the 
 clouds of witnesses by whom they were attested. Indeed, 
 all theories of Civilization that are wanting in that 
 simplicity which characterises the primary motives and 
 impulses of human nature, are liable to suspicion, and 
 like the characters of persons whose actions are dark and 
 involved, must be reinforced by hosts of testimonials. 
 But as the truths which I desire to enforce are founded 
 not so much on the multiplicity of past events, with their 
 fugitive and misleading lustres, as on the steady identity 
 of Human Nature in all ages ; not so much on the endless 
 circurnstantialities of History, as on universal principles 
 of interpretation ; not so much on external generalizations, 
 as on the inner Laws of the Human Mind; all undue bulk 
 would be a weakness, like that excess of fat which is a 
 sign of degeneration rather than of development, or that 
 overgrowth of territory beyond the arm of the central power, 
 which historians have noted as a real source of debility, 
 and a sure precursor of decline. Accordingly, instead of 
 inundating the reader with a flood of historical details, 
 which fall off the mind like the filings off a magnet 
 when the theory that gave them cohesion becomes 
 discredited, and of adding thereby to the number of
 
 io INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 ponderous tomes, that, like the ruins of Roman aqueducts, 
 have lain mouldering in sullen decay since the doctrines 
 that gave them life have been superseded, I shall 
 endeavour rather to compose my theory out of the simple 
 impulses and laws of the human mind ; filling in the 
 canvas with pigments picked up here and there along the 
 great highway of life, following in this, with humble step, 
 the example set by the great Michael Angelo himself, 
 who is said to have painted the walls of the Vatican with 
 ochres dug from a garden at the back of the palace, 
 careless of the source of his materials, so only that his. 
 pictures were intelligible, and bore the impress of truth.
 
 PART I -A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HISTORY DESCRIPTIVE. 
 
 SOME time ago, as I sat wondering to myself how I was 
 to make clear to the reader the new method of interpre- 
 tation which I proposed to adopt in the present work, I 
 glanced along the library-shelves on which rested the old 
 and well-thumbed volumes containing the record of every 
 department of human thought and culture volumes which 
 had so long been my delight, which had once been so 
 zealously studied, and to which I owed so much and as 
 my eye fell on the great names of Gibbon and Grote, 
 Maurice and Newman, Tyndall and Darwin, Hume and 
 Kant, Adam Smith and Mill, Buckle, Guizot, Spencer, 
 and Comte, my first feeling was one of doubt whether 
 there could be any field of human thought and speculation 
 which these great writers had not already occupied, any 
 instrument of interpretation which one or another of them 
 had not already fully and systematically employed. But 
 as I ran over in my mind the subject-matter of these 
 volumes, recalling in a general way their contents and 
 mode of treatment, and as I thought of the length of 
 time they had remained undisturbed on their shelves, and 
 that, too, at a period when my own speculations were most 
 active, I began to realise how widely different must be my 
 own method of interpretation from those of these illustrious 
 writers. To make more clear to myself the reasons for
 
 ia A NEIV ORGANON. 
 
 this difference of method, and with the object of marking" 
 out, if possible, with greater precision than has hitherto 
 been attempted, the range and limitations within which 
 the ordinary instruments of knowledge can be legitimately 
 employed, I took down from the shelves in turn the 
 more typical of the works belonging to the various depart- 
 ments of thought and speculation, dipping into them here 
 and there to refresh myself with their methods and results, 
 and seeking in all ways to discover wherein the instru- 
 ments employed were unsuited to my own designs. And 
 now, in the present and succeeding chapters, I desire to- 
 lay before the reader the results of this investigation ; and 
 shall open with the great subject of History, and by a 
 brief examination of it in each of its three great divisions 
 narrative, philosophico-descriptive, and philosophical 
 shall endeavour to show what light, if any, it throws on 
 the Present or the Future. 
 
 At a time when not only the great crises of nations, but 
 the minute and personal concerns of individuals, were 
 believed to be under the immediate care and guidance or 
 a Supreme Power, and human affairs were, in conse- 
 quence, liable to supernatural interventions at every turn,. 
 no attempt was likely to be made to unite the Present 
 with the Past by connected links of natural causation. 
 History, accordingly, busied itself for the most part with 
 the sayings and doings of those conspicuous personages 
 whose sublime heads were regarded as the appointed 
 channels by which the will of Heaven was to be trans- 
 mitted to the great masses of men, who lay passive and 
 inert around the base of the social edifice. But, from the 
 time that the procession of human events, like the move- 
 ments of the stars, was suspected to lie under the 
 dominion of fixed and inexorable laws, and " the people " 
 (hitherto believed to be as rooted and inanimate as that 
 object on whose scaly rind Milton's pilot moored), was 
 discovered to be a Leviathan a huge but inarticulate life 
 stretching through the centuries, with impulse and motion
 
 HISTORY DESCRIPTIVE. 13 
 
 inherent in itself History entered on a new path, and 
 announced itself as a new and sovereign power. Instead 
 of dealing, as formerly, with the intrigues of princes and 
 priests, with the rivalries of courts and camps, it set 
 itself to follow and record the movements of that great 
 world-stream of Humanity, on whose impetuous waters 
 princes and potentates were swept along, like straws on 
 the surface of some dark unfathomed tide. In other 
 words, as human affairs were gradually withdrawn from 
 the interference of the Deity, and natural causes were 
 invoked to explain them, men turned for the springs that 
 moved events to the vast and complex structure of Society 
 itself; and History announced itself as the only sure 
 ground on which to rest in any attempt to understand the 
 Present or guide the Future. It was looked upon as an 
 immense quarry, wherein were to be found, if assiduously 
 explored, those secret links which, like the fossils of the 
 geologist, would unite the present order of things with the 
 remotest past ; as a vast pyramid or mausoleum, whose 
 inner recesses would, when unlocked, disclose the mighty 
 figures that still work among us " those dead but sceptred 
 sovereigns who still rule our spirits from their urns." So 
 deeply, indeed, has this new-born conception penetrated 
 the present age, that not a creed, institution, or shade of 
 opinion but may be seen groping in the dark and un- 
 fathomed mines of History, seeking to connect its lineage 
 with the extinct heroisms of other days. Here, for 
 example, are a band of Christian believers digging at 
 the root of the primitive tree, trying to square their 
 doctrine and practice with the simplicity of the early 
 times ; there, a group of pale and eager figures bending 
 over the great Protestant upheaval, intent on proving the 
 legitimacy of their descent from the early ritual of the 
 Reformation ; and apart, unchanged while all around 
 are changed, the undaunted forms of those who stand 
 stern and inflexible on that primitive rock, against which 
 it has been said the gates of hell cannot prevail. The
 
 i 4 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 torches of the politicians, too, are to be seen flitting here 
 and there in the dusky labyrinths : Radicals chanting 
 dirges over the grave of Liberty, or invoking the shade 
 of Pericles and the glories of departed Greece ; Re- 
 actionaries under Carlyle, doing homage at the shrines of 
 Caesar and of Cromwell, and commemorating the bril- 
 liancies of the despotic regimes; Whigs keeping time to 
 the music of Macaulay as they march past the long line of 
 monuments sacred to the memory of their once vital but 
 now fast-decaying principles. There they all are, equally 
 anxious to justify their claims to pre-eminence in the new 
 and ever-living Present, by connecting their lineage with 
 the shadows and spectres of the Past. And not only 
 these, but even popes and kings, who formerly held their 
 haughty prerogatives in fief by the grace of God or 
 divine right, are now obliged, like suppliants, to appeal in 
 justification of their existence to the glorious rule they 
 have played in the past their efforts in the cause of 
 progress and civilization, their guardianship of national 
 honor and prestige, their encouragement of literature and 
 the arts, and their care and tenderness for the elevation 
 and amelioration of the masses. Nor is such an appeal 
 altogether without reason. For just as the traditions 
 which a man has inherited, the training he has under- 
 gone, and the circumstances and influences by which he 
 has been moulded, leave their impress on his character, 
 and are held as testimonial and guarantee of his present 
 honor and integrity, so the historical antecedents of the 
 current phases of life and opinion may be fairly adduced 
 in support of their claims to the approval of mankind. 
 But when such antecedents are made the ground of 
 exclusive authority and pre-eminence, and each starts up 
 in turn to assert itself as the leading thread in the vast 
 complexity of causes at work in the past, we feel that the 
 web is too heterogeneous, the threads too involved, to 
 justify the assumption. The same may be urged against 
 those philosophical historians who would refer the evo-
 
 HISTORY DESCRIPTIVE. t 5 
 
 lution of societies to the agency of a single principle, 
 proximate or remote, such as climate, geological or 
 meteorological phenomena, the "persistence offeree" and 
 the like. Carlyle, who of all thinkers has perceived most 
 clearly the unfathomed deeps of mystery on which our 
 little islet of knowledge swims, advises the historian to- 
 refrain from such attempts, as more worthy of an artisan 
 than a true artist ; and, instead of fancying that he has 
 exhausted the infinite meanings of any transaction, to- 
 restrict himself to the more modest attempt of giving 
 some faithful picture of it, deducing from it only such 
 household truths as may prove valuable recipes in 
 practice. Nevertheless, he, too, urges all men to search 
 more and more into the Past, as "it is the true fountain 
 of knowledge, by whose light alone, whether consciously 
 or unconsciously employed, can the Present or the 
 Future be interpreted or guessed at." Now, as this is 
 precisely the point which I wish here to raise, and if 
 possible to resolve, I shall for the sake of clearness 
 consider History, first, as a mere record of events, and 
 secondly, as a philosophical interpretation of them ; and 
 shall endeavour to trace the effects of each on a just 
 insight into the Present or wise guidance of the Future. 
 
 Of late years the scattered records of dead and for- 
 gotten ages, dragged from the recesses in which they lay 
 entombed by assiduous and indefatigable explorers, have 
 been so ingeniously dovetailed and pieced together, that 
 the Past, like some fossil mammal, stands reconstructed 
 before us, and is open to the inspection alike of the 
 curious, the contemplative, or the indifferent. Not only 
 the great panorama of events, moving in vast perspective 
 and outline along the ages, but the political, religious, and 
 social life of the various peoples and nations, have been 
 traced with fidelity by the historic pen ; each link in the 
 great chain of historical sequence having found its 
 natural relations and connexions. We see the great 
 monarchies of the East as they emerge large and in-
 
 1 6 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 distinct on the far horizon, their vast and shadowy figures 
 rising and falling in perpetual conflict, like a confused 
 wrestle of giant spirits in the dawn. We see Persia 
 returning triumphant from the struggle, and follow the 
 movements of her gigantic despotism as, like some huge 
 python, it rolls its slow and portentous bulk westwards to 
 the sea, over whose sunny isles it hangs for a while dark 
 and minatory, until Greece, startled by the impending 
 danger, steps gaily out from beneath the oppressive 
 shadow, erect and defiant as a young Apollo, and with 
 impetuous ardour buries the glowing shaft deep in its 
 unwieldy side. Eastern barbarism rolled back for a while 
 to its den, we watch with impassioned interest the rapid 
 flowerage and culmination of Grecian glory, her noontide 
 brilliance and dazzling elevation ; and as she turns slowly 
 to her setting, we linger over her departing splendour 
 until, torn by dissension within and treachery without, she 
 sinks fouled and bedraggled into the night. In the mean- 
 time, while the degenerate Greeks sit chattering in their 
 dotage, unmindful of the glory of their sires, Macedon 
 lias arisen and asserted her supremacy over the whole 
 peninsula. Holding in her leash the last remnants of 
 Grecian patriotism, whipped from its torpor into fiery 
 enthusiasm by the memory of happier days, we see her 
 storming across the Hellespont, her legions mad with 
 glory, into the heart of the prostrate East ; and as she 
 advances in her career of conquest, we see kingdoms and 
 peoples fall successively before her, until her dominions 
 stretch from sea to sea. But, long before the colossal 
 fabric has had time to consolidate, dismemberment ensues, 
 and the glory of her short-lived empire passes away, until 
 at last the once mighty kingdoms of which she was com- 
 posed, after here and there a spasmodic flicker of returning 
 vigour, like the cottage lights of some peaceful hamlet in 
 the evening, are one by one extinguished. For a power 
 more stern and indomitable has arisen and is pushing 
 onwards to universal dominion, disdaining to share with
 
 HISTORY DESCRIPTIVE. 17 
 
 .meaner rivals the empire of the world. While the crash 
 of falling kingdoms is resounding in the ear, and the con- 
 fused din of perpetual strife fills the air, the infant Rome, 
 unheeded and in obscurity, is putting out her little feelers, 
 and is seizing on such adjacent territory as lies within her 
 reach. Growing by what she feeds upon, she gradually 
 enlarges until she has covered the whole of Italy, and 
 converted it into nutriment for herself. Centuries come 
 . and go, empires rise and fall, and many a bright promise 
 has bloomed and faded, but still she waxes in bulk and 
 vigour, until at last, like some mighty octopus, we see her 
 embracing the world in her giant tentacles, and Gaul and 
 Carthage, Persia and Egypt, Macedonia and Greece, have 
 .all alike gone down before her indomitable arms. But 
 long ere the vast stretch of dominion has reached its 
 utmost bounds, her vital organs, gorged to repletion, lose 
 their vigour and are beginning to decay. Luxury and dis- 
 sipation have taken the place of the early simplicity and 
 frugality; intrigue and faction, of the old republican virtue; 
 the pleasures of the circus, of the glories of the field. 
 The ancient patriot is succeeded by the self-indulgent 
 voluptuary; the ancient priest, by the winking augur; and 
 the old Roman citizen, by the effeminate oriental and 
 emancipated slave. And when at last civil war has 
 precipitated its bloody round of proscription and atrocity, 
 and the Republic, honey-combed to the heart by corruption, 
 is about to collapse, the Empire arises to prop for a while 
 the rotting edifice and stay its impending fall. But still 
 the disintegration goes on. The army, grown omnipotent 
 and dissolute, puts up the Empire to auction ; and the 
 favourites of the hour are borne in turn from the camp to 
 the palace on shields dishonoured by treachery and stained 
 by crime. Victorious generals returning in triumph from 
 distant provinces make Rome the bloody arena wherein 
 to contest their rival claims to the envied purple. Liberty 
 is strangled, the voice of Freedom is hushed, and the 
 bright scintillations of genius are extinguished in the thick 
 
 c
 
 1 8 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 and stifling air. Licentiousness and debauchery run riot,, 
 and their mad orgies are varied only by confiscations and 
 crimes. While revelry holds its court at the capital, in 
 the meantime around the vast ring of frontier the Bar- 
 barian sits squatting low and savage, and, as he presses 
 in, his growl is heard from the outer darkness, like the 
 confused rolling of the midnight sea. The provinces,, 
 crushed under the dead weight of civil and military 
 officialism, that stretches like an iron network over the 
 surface of the Empire, are impotent for defence; resistance 
 droops ; the ramparts give way ; and through the breach 
 the thickening hordes pour like a scorching flood. The 
 Empire, put on its defence, disperses or buys off the 
 invaders, reconstructs its dykes, and retracts its limits ; but 
 still the flood rolls in, until at last, subsidies and defeats 
 proving alike unavailing, and even whole provinces thrown 
 out to appease the fury and slacken the pursuit, the Empire 
 goes down under the desolating tide. When we next catch 
 sight of it, after the waters have subsided, its vast system 
 of Centralization has fallen to pieces and disappeared ; 
 Society has resolved itself into its primitive molecules ; the 
 old world-serpent has become a roll of isolated rings ; and 
 Imperialism, after an abortive attempt to resuscitate itself 
 in the West, passes into the Feudalism with which 
 Modern Civilization commences. The face of Europe is 
 seen studded over with the castles of barbarian chieftains,, 
 around each of which, as a nucleus, runs a series of con- 
 centric circles of infeudation, which radiate power and 
 authority from the feudal lord himself, through successive 
 ranges of vassals and retainers, to the outermost ring of 
 artificers and slaves. Christianity, meanwhile, has arisen, 
 and become the religion of the Roman World. Dropped 
 as a leaven into the fermenting heart of the Empire at the 
 period of its greatest power, we see it at first working 
 silently among the lowest sediment of the people the cooks, 
 the cobblers, and slaves then slowly rising, in spite of 
 persecution, through the superincumbent layers of society,
 
 HISTORY DESCRIPTIVE. 19 
 
 until it surges at last over the feet of the imperial throne. 
 Returning thence, like a vivifying lava-stream, it spreads 
 itself abroad on all sides, mingling with the currents of 
 barbarian invaders that roll in successive tides over the 
 empire, and converting them to itself, until it reaches the 
 most secluded districts, and there silently extinguishes the 
 last fires left slumbering on the neglected altars of 
 Paganism. Accompanying it as it extends is the vast 
 organization of the Church, which interweaves its golden 
 threads everywhere through the complex structure of 
 society ; softening, by its creeds, charities, and chivalries, 
 the harsh and cruel codes of the barbarian conquerors, and 
 moderating the internecine feuds of their savage chieftains. 
 While Society is thus re-arranging itself in the West, the 
 Crescent arises with its flaming propaganda, firing the sky 
 like a comet, and after lopping off Africa and the East 
 from the Empire and the Church, penetrates into Europe, 
 and plants its standards at the very gates of Christendom. 
 Repulsed and driven back to its native dominions, it 
 continues to maintain, with varying success, the conquests 
 it has achieved, until, with the somnolency of fate creeping 
 over its decaying members, it relaxes into torpor, and 
 finally sinks into impotent death. The West knit 
 together again, by the whirlwind of religious fervour into 
 which the Crusades have thrown the nations, Industry 
 begins to appear, and Commerce cuts highways for itself 
 over distant seas to the most inhospitable shores. The 
 Serf, hitherto chained to the earth, gradually acquires 
 property and even rights in the soil, shakes off his fetters, 
 and ventures to lift his stooped and imbruted front to the 
 light; but his mind, enmeshed in a finer and more subtle 
 despotism, is still enslaved, and awaits a happier day. The 
 People, meanwhile, have gathered into towns and become 
 powerful, and in return for services rendered are extorting 
 charters of liberty from unwilling kings. The Nobility, 
 once free as mountain eagles, but now ruined by Crusades 
 or decimated by civil war, lose their authority, and are
 
 20 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 gradually reduced under the arm of the central power. 
 And then, again, once more a new era of Caesarism and 
 Kingship arises for Europe, which here conspiring with 
 the nobility against the people, and there depressing both 
 alike, continues to exist, until the nations, stripped of the 
 last vestige of political and social liberty, and ground by 
 oppression to the dust, are awakened by the trumpet-blast 
 of the French Revolution, and rise in terror and majesty 
 to sweep the accursed thing away. 
 
 Such, in brief outline, is a rough general sketch of the 
 great movements with which History has familiarised us, 
 and the question becomes What light does this, or the 
 like of this, worked into minute and minuter detail, throw 
 on the Present or the Future ? 
 
 The Present is ever a mystery to us until it is irradiated 
 by some knowledge of the Past. The glittering symbols 
 we see around us Church, School, Court, and Camp 
 seem to the unlettered, as they do to children, to be 
 fixed and rooted in eternity, and to be as much a part of 
 the economy of Nature as the sun, moon, and stars. But 
 a glance along the perspective of History shows us that 
 these, too, like the fleeting years, are evanescent and tran- 
 sitory ; that Time changes, and will continue to change, 
 their configuration and character; and that, as they sprang 
 originally from the opinions, sentiments, and necessities 
 of men, so they will fade and disappear with them. 
 
 History it is that traces the changes that institutions 
 have undergone from their inception and starting-point 
 down to our own time, and thus enables us to apprehend 
 intelligently their present position and significance 
 saving us from the deception of appearances. Without 
 History, indeed, it would be difficult to know whether the 
 large and imposing organizations that confront us on 
 every hand were gaining or losing ground ; were waxing 
 or waning ; were rising in power or sinking in decay. 
 The Catholic Church, for example, still stretches its vast 
 network over Europe as it did in the palmiest days of the
 
 HISTORYDESCRIPTIVE. 21 
 
 Papacy. How, then, can I tell whether it be a rising or 
 declining power, but by tracing its history from the days 
 when kings shuddered before its anathemas, to the time 
 when, pressed by relentless foes on every side, and still 
 fighting like a Parthian in its retreat, it finally yields 
 to the enemy its last heritage of political power ? Royalty 
 is still surrounded with all the trappings of authority 
 with all the pomp and circumstance of state. To know 
 whether it is in its prime, or its dotage, we must follow it 
 from the time when it held, in its single hand alone, each 
 several rein of authority and power, to the time when, 
 stripped one by one of its prerogatives, it at last becomes, 
 as a political power, a myth and symbol merely. So, too, 
 with the Aristocracy. They still retain unimpaired their 
 dazzling supremacy of wealth and position, and still exist 
 as a distinct and independent body in the State. It is 
 only when we see that, after having been once the rivals of 
 kings, they are now compelled to save themselves from 
 political extinction by winking the eye, by ducking to let 
 the wave pass over them, that we rightly apprehend their 
 present position. The face of the Continent gleams with 
 bristling bayonets, compacted into battalions larger and 
 more menacing than any the world has seen. How then 
 can I know whether Military ism is gaining or losing 
 ground in the world, but by a wide and comprehensive 
 survey of its history from the earliest recorded times ? The 
 great body of the people still retain their ancient habits 
 of deference and submission, and to all appearances are 
 still in their pupilage. But, by following them from the time 
 when they were still enslaved, down to the time when, 
 shaking off their chains and coming to manhood, they set 
 their feet on the necks of their former oppressors, we can 
 the better estimate the present significance of Democracy. 
 In this way, History, by furnishing a larger base 
 for observation and comparison, and by fixing the 
 attention on deeper and more cardinal issues, enables us 
 to apprehend intelligently the purport and significance
 
 22 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 of things around us. It enables us also, in a general sort 
 of way, to forecast their future. For if, as many believe, 
 the course of History is the most authoritative expression 
 and revelation of the deep designs of the Creator, or, if 
 you will, of the great central laws of the world, it is evi- 
 dent that, by following the tracks described by institutions 
 in the past down to their meeting-points in the present, 
 and thence prolonging them onwards according to the 
 laws of their proper curves, we may roughly determine 
 their relative positions in the future. Some are moving 
 in ascending lines, others in falling ones ; some have short 
 arcs, and will soon complete their cycles and disappear ; 
 while others, with vaster sweep, will prolong their influence 
 far into the unknown future. 
 
 It is somewhat in this way that History, as a record of 
 the Past, is believed to throw light on the Present and the 
 Future. But a little consideration will show that, while it 
 accounts for the Present, it does not really explain it ; and, 
 while it enables us in a way to anticipate the Future, it 
 does not help us to guide or direct it. We have just seen 
 that History traces the institutions we see around us to 
 their sources in the past, and follows them back again 
 through all the windings of their progress and development 
 to their condition at the present time. But as institutions 
 have no merit in themselves, and are good or bad only in 
 so far as they forward or impede the true well-being of 
 man, it is evident that we cannot guide Society aright until 
 we know what their constant effects are what constant 
 relations they bear to the minds and characters of the 
 people living under them. That they have effects of one 
 kind or another is admitted. Some have a tendency to 
 stimulate and expand the mental energies, others to 
 repress or deaden them ; and the aim of the statesman 
 accordingly is to strengthen and uphold the one, to restrict 
 or abolish the other. But before he can act wisely, he 
 must first of all know what these effects are, as a physician 
 must know the effects of his medicines before he can
 
 HISTORY DESCRIPTIVE. 23 
 
 prescribe for the welfare of his patient. What we want, 
 therefore, is not so much a knowledge of how institutions 
 came here, as of their effects now that they are here ; not 
 History, but insight into To-day. Of what use is it to me to 
 know how Slavery, for example, arose, spread, and rooted 
 itself in this or that country ? What I want to know is 
 its constant effect on the moral nature of man in every age 
 and nation. Of what use is it to know how Christianity 
 or Mahommedanism arose and struggled into supremacy 
 in this or that quarter of the world ? What I want to 
 know is the effects of these respective creeds on the popu- 
 lations living under their sway. Of what use is it to know 
 the history of the long struggle between Aristocracies 
 and Democracies, if we do not know the effects of their 
 distinctive principles on the human mind, on its dignity 
 or abasement, its expansion or repression, its fullness and 
 spontaneity, or tameness and rigidity ? It is clear, there- 
 fore, that, without a knowledge of the effects of institutions 
 on human well-being material, intellectual, and moral 
 we cannot wisely guide the Future. It is equally clear that, 
 without such knowledge, we cannot understand the Present. 
 To understand the Present, is to understand the opinions, 
 sentiments, and beliefs of men in the Present ; and for the 
 great masses these are the direct results of the religions, 
 creeds, and forms of government under which they live in 
 a word, of their Institutions. Of course, the great moral 
 and mental characteristics of any people are the combined 
 results of many institutions. Nevertheless, it is evident 
 that, until we can separate the effects that are attributable 
 to each of these institutions, and which are inherent in 
 their very nature, we cannot possibly understand the 
 condition of the people in its tout ensemble. 
 
 History, then, as a record of the Past, can give us no 
 insight into the Present, or guidance for the Future ; such 
 insight and guidance being got only from a systematic 
 knowledge of the effects of Institutions on human life and 
 character. This knowledge, when attained, will constitute
 
 24 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 the Science of Politics a science hitherto almost entirely 
 neglected, only here and there an occasional explorer 
 having ventured to sink a shaft in some outlying portion of 
 the field. And, in passing, I may remark that such a 
 science will lie midway between the general Science of 
 Society, or Sociology, on the one hand, and what is called 
 practical statesmanship on the other. Sociology interprets 
 the movements of Society as the results of some one law, 
 as of Evolution, which is so general that, even if it were 
 true, it would be of little use for practical guidance. In 
 this respect it bears the same relation to the special Science 
 of Politics, that the general Science of Biology does to the 
 special Science of Medicine. For, while the Science of 
 Biology announces the general laws that are common to all 
 animal organizations alike, it is incompetent to deal with 
 those special complexities of the human body, and the 
 diseases to which it is subject, which are the subject- 
 matter of the Science of Medicine. So, too, with Sociology. 
 It shows us the laws which Societies in general follow, but 
 does not enable us to guide any particular Society to its 
 true goal. It does not take into account the infinite 
 variety of motives, interests, and beliefs which must be 
 directed and combined before any Society can enter on a 
 higher stage ; but merely points to a fatality rolling 
 through the ages, and making human beings its willing 
 or unwilling ministers. Practical statesmanship, on the 
 other hand, is a species of empiricism, and is too super- 
 ficial and shortsighted to be depended on for future 
 guidance and direction. Its method is to listen assiduously 
 to the interests, wishes, and prejudices of the different 
 classes in Society, and, if possible, to estimate their relative 
 force and volume (by the clamour which they raise in the 
 Press and elsewhere), with the object of so apportioning 
 legislative enactments as to satisfy at once the greatest 
 number of interests. It does not attempt to estimate the 
 consequences that will flow from the preponderance of any 
 institution or set of beliefs, for, as has been well said, Jesus-
 
 HISTOR YDESCRIPTI VE. 25 
 
 has no chance with Judas Iscariot unless he has the votes, 
 but seeks merely to follow the wishes of those who for the 
 moment have turned the balance of power in their favour. 
 In this respect it resembles that empiricism in medical 
 practice which, instead of understanding the functions of 
 the different organs of the body and their relations to 
 each other, would, when the patient complains, simply clap 
 a poultice on the seat of pain. Hence the necessity of a 
 Science of Politics which shall trace the effects of Creeds, 
 Institutions, and forms of Government, on human well- 
 being; and, by indoctrinating the public mind with its 
 principles, shall prepare the way for the Practical States- 
 man, who when the time is ripe will take them up, and 
 devise the best means for giving them effect. Attempts 
 have already been made, it is true, to reduce the effects of 
 different institutions on material welfare to a systematic 
 form, and the results constitute a part of the Science 
 of Political Economy. But the time has now arrived 
 when their effects on the higher moral and spiritual life 
 of nations should be investigated, and the results made a 
 part of the consolidated knowledge of mankind. 
 
 It will be objected, doubtless, that Institutions are as 
 much the product of the thoughts and sentiments of men, 
 as the thoughts and sentiments of men are the product 
 of Institutions; and that, in consequence, any attempt to 
 formulate the effects of Institutions on men, without taking 
 into account the effects of men on Institutions, must 
 furnish us with data for insight and guidance at best 
 partial and incomplete. Now, while I am willing to 
 admit that Institutions are as much the product and 
 expression of men's sentiments and opinions, as men's 
 sentiments and opinions are the product of Institutions, 
 I desire to point out that, for purposes of insight and 
 guidance, there is this immense difference between them ; 
 that whereas the effects of Institutions on men can be 
 made the subject-matter of scientific investigation, the 
 effects of men on Institutions cannot be so made. It is
 
 26 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 true that we can to a large extent estimate the influence 
 of great men on Institutions in the Past. We can trace 
 the effects of Buddha, Mahomet, Caesar, Luther, on the 
 institutions which preceded them and under which they 
 were born, and can follow the movements initiated by 
 them, and extended by their disciples, until they modified or 
 replaced the institutions of the earlier times. But we can 
 no more predict the form in which the next Great Man will 
 appear, or estimate the influence he will exert, than we 
 can the next discovery in Science, or its application to the 
 arts of life. The influence of Great Men in the Future can- 
 not be foreseen, and cannot, therefore, be made the subject- 
 matter of scientific enquiry. It must forever remain an 
 unknown quantity in human affairs, not predicable, but 
 only a hope ; not a matter of insight, but of trust and 
 aspiration ; not of Science, but of Providence or Fate. 
 And as for the Great Men of the Past, and their influence 
 on the Present, they are either already summed up and 
 embodied in the Institutions of the Present (in which 
 case their effects can be estimated like that of any 
 other institution); or they are individual and personal 
 influences merely, in which case they are politically 
 non-extant. The influence of Christ, for example, and 
 his effects on the welfare of men, are (in so far as he 
 is a political power) embodied in the institution called the 
 Christian Church ; the influence of Augustine, Luther, 
 Wesley and Knox, in the different branches of that 
 Church. In so far as they are merely personal and 
 individual influences, they are not subject-matter of 
 Politics, which deals only with such sentiments and 
 opinions as are mirrored and embodied in the institutions 
 around us, and are held by great masses of men. 
 
 If of the two great influences then, that by their play 
 and inter-action make up the movement of Civilization, viz., 
 the action of Institutions on men, and of men on Institu- 
 tions the effects of men on Institutions in the Future 
 cannot be now foreseen, or scientifically determined ; the
 
 HISTORY DESCRIPTIVE. 27 
 
 effects of men on Institutions in the Past are already 
 represented by the institutions around us. Either way, 
 therefore, their consideration can give us no insight into 
 the Present, or guidance for the Future. But the effects of 
 Institutions on men, on the contrary, can be scientifically 
 determined ; and, when determined, like other laws of 
 nature, hold good alike for the Present, Past, and Future. 
 Accordingly, if we can determine the effects that institu- 
 tions have over men's ways of thinking and acting at 
 the present time, we may know that they have had the 
 same effects in the remotest times, and can predict 
 that they will have the same effects in the next mil- 
 lennium. That the same institution should have the 
 same effects in every age, although the effects of other 
 institutions may overlay and obscure our perception 
 of them, is indeed a very axiom of thought. It is assumed 
 in all the efforts made to improve the welfare of man by 
 legislation, i.e., by alterations in the Institutions under 
 which he lives. Without such assumption, all legislation 
 were as uncertain and shifting as the winds. It may be 
 objected that the effects of Institutions on men cannot be 
 reduced to a scientific statement, inasmuch as institutions 
 which in one age have forwarded human development have 
 in another age retarded it. It may be said, and with truth, 
 that Militaryism, which once aided Civilization, by welding 
 small and heterogeneous tribes into large and powerful 
 nations, now obstructs it ; that Feudal Aristocracy, which 
 in the Middle Ages was the only possible regime that could 
 have held Society together, is now opposed to the highest 
 interests of the people material, intellectual, moral ; and 
 that Slavery, which at one time helped Civilization by 
 releasing the more advanced races from the lower toils, 
 thereby enabling them to pursue higher ends, has become 
 (now that the dignity of man enters as a factor into 
 political calculations) a curse to all engaged in it. All 
 this may be readily admitted, and yet it does not prove 
 that the same institutions have had different effects in
 
 2 8 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 different times and places. It only shows that political 
 necessities have made these effects less urgent and 
 important at one time than another. It is the same with 
 nations as with individuals. For just as, when a man's life 
 is in danger, the finer sentiments of his mind are for the 
 moment less urgent than his self-preservation, so, in the 
 earlier stages of society, material power and social order 
 are of greater relative importance than those higher moral 
 and spiritual interests which are the last achievement of 
 Civilization. But that the same institutions have had the 
 same effects throughout is undoubted. Militaryism had 
 the same effect in restricting the liberties of the individual, 
 and making him a mere cog or pinion in the State-machine, 
 in the days when it was an essential element in civilization, 
 as it has now ; only, the liberty of the individual was then 
 less urgent than the preservation of Society, or the 
 aggrandisement and domination of the superior races. 
 Feudal Aristocracy had the same effect in preventing the 
 mental and moral expansion of the great body of the people 
 in the Middle Ages, as it has to-day; only, at that time the 
 dignity of serfs and artisans, the mental expansion of 
 flunkeys and retainers, were of less consequence than the 
 preservation of authority in innumerable centres of feudal 
 power. Slavery has had the same effects on men in every 
 age and country ; only at one time it was considered more 
 important that the few should be energetic, enlightened,. 
 and free; should civilize, colonize, and cultivate philosophy 
 and the arts ; than that a motley herd of barbarians,, 
 negroes, or orientals, although equal in the sight of God 
 with their masters, should have equal justice, equal rights, 
 equal chance of elevation and expansion of soul. 
 
 As a record of the past, then, History can give us none 
 of that political insight and guidance which it arrogates to* 
 itself, none of that political wisdom of which it is believed 
 to be the great repository; such insight and guidance being,, 
 as we have seen, the aim of that Science of Politics which 
 has still to be inaugurated. We have now to enquire
 
 HISTORY DESCRIPTIVE. 29 
 
 what help it gives us in our individual capacities as men 
 who have lives to lead in the ever-new days that are 
 dawning over us. 
 
 Carlyle has said that the choice of our Ideals is the 
 most important step in life; Matthew Arnold, that Conduct 
 is three-fourths of life; and Goethe, that life is Action, 
 and not Contemplation. Now, if we examine History, we 
 shall find that, although it stimulates and exercises the 
 emotions, it neither directs the Imagination in the choice 
 of the ideals we are to follow, the Conscience in the 
 principles of conduct we are to support, or the Reason in 
 the line of action we are to pursue. There can be no doubt 
 that, in reading the lives of the Great Men who have made 
 history illustrious, we are carried away by the virtue and 
 character they exhibit by their energy and perseverance 
 under difficulties, their cheerfulness and stoicism in defeat, 
 their moderation and humility in victory. What a fine 
 bracing effect, for example, the old heroes of Plutarch 
 have on the mind ! What a thrill of admiration runs 
 through the veins as we read of how no adversity could 
 subdue their undaunted spirits, or dim their splendid mag- 
 nanimity ! But, unfortunately, the Past is not all a tale 
 of ancient heroism. The ideals which it has bequeathed 
 to us, though sometimes high and pure, are often false and 
 hollow ; and History, instead of perpetuating models of 
 virtue, is too often the apotheosis of brute force or vulgar 
 success. The consequence is that men's admirations as 
 often settle on strong and unscrupulous characters, as on 
 great and sublime ones. It is questionable, indeed, whether 
 Bonaparte, for example, has not been as much an object 
 of admiration, as the Apostle of the Gentiles himself. 
 Certain it is that his career presents precisely those 
 characteristics that are most attractive and alluring to the 
 young ambitious mind ; at that period of life, too, when it is 
 most important that the ideals we select should be high 
 and unalloyed. And thus, by presenting us with types of 
 character that are maimed and imperfect, and erecting into
 
 3 o A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 objects of idolatry men of mixed and impure genius,. 
 History has as often served as precedent for gigantic 
 crimes as for super-eminent virtues. It was the conquests 
 of Alexander that fired the ambition of Napoleon, the 
 dagger of Brutus that played before the fevered imagina- 
 tion of Charlotte Corday. 
 
 If History does not direct the Imagination in its choice 
 of Ideals, neither does it give that support to the Con- 
 science which is so indispensable for present or future 
 guidance. Instead of shining with a pure and steady 
 lustre, its lights are frequently confused, uncertain, and 
 misleading. Virtue and its reward, Crime and its punish- 
 ment which ought to be linked together as by bonds of 
 j ron ii e often so far apart, that their connexion is not 
 apparent ; and, although the bonds exist, and the compen- 
 sations are as sure as Nemesis, they are often as invisible 
 and unsuspected as those hidden streams, whose secret 
 currents connect the waters of distant lakes. So difficult, 
 indeed, is it to track the path of Justice through the 
 thickets of dishonesty and crime, that men at last have 
 ceased to believe in its existence in this world ; and special 
 provision is accordingly made for its triumph in the next. 
 They see Virtue followed as often by a penalty as by a 
 reward. George Washington may have been pardoned 
 for cutting down the apple-tree, because he would not tell 
 a lie ; but many a boy before and since has been thrashed 
 for the same reason. For one man whom integrity and 
 singleness of mind have raised, on the golden wave of 
 opportunity, to power and supremacy, thousands have 
 gone to their graves, broken-hearted and in despair, the 
 martyrs and victims of divine ideas quickened before their 
 time, and plucked before their general ripening. These 
 are truisms of History. And yet, so little have they availed 
 to instruct us, that bigotry, persecution, and neglect devour 
 their hecatombs of victims to-day as they did in the days 
 of old. It is doubtless easy to sit and condemn the men 
 who persecuted the inaugurators of the belief which we
 
 HISTOR YDESCRIPTI VE. 3 t 
 
 now love and cherish, but I do not find that the heralds of 
 new thought fare any better to-day ; or that History, which 
 has taught us to beware of neglect and persecution in 
 general, has helped us to avoid it in particular. Nothing is 
 more wearisome than the lamentations we so constantly 
 hear over the fate of Burns, for example, and the neglect 
 he suffered at the hands of his contemporaries ; and from 
 men, too, who we perceive would act in the same way 
 were he alive to-day. Not that men have ever wished 
 to persecute the right,, only they did not then know that it 
 was the right ; not that they wish to neglect merit, only 
 they do not see that it is merit. And thus all right Con- 
 duct in the present resolves itself into a matter of belief, 
 opinion, knowledge, or, in other words, of insight into 
 To-day. 
 
 And, lastly, History gives us no guidance in Action. 
 If life is work, and not passive enjoyment or barren con- 
 templation, of what use can the records of ancient virtue 
 or modern chivalry be to me, who have quite another set 
 of problems to deal with, and which, from the nature of 
 the case, must be without precedent ? What insight or 
 guidance does it give me to know what other men have 
 done in other days and under other circumstances and 
 conditions ? For the question, after all, is not so much 
 how we are to act in general, as what we are to do in 
 particular. It is a matter not so much of right principles, 
 which all admit, and which it needs no one to rise from the 
 dead to enforce, as of knowledge of the conditions under 
 which we live, and of the laws by \vhich things are go- 
 verned. It is doubtless true that Conduct is three-fourths 
 of life, and that honesty and simplicity of character will 
 carry a man through a great part of his perplexities. 
 But it is equally true that the miseries, misunderstandings, 
 and heart-burnings of the world, are as much due to bad 
 judgments as to bad intentions, to differences of opinion 
 as to differences of moral principle. For remedy, nothing 
 will avail but insight into the conditions under which we
 
 32 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 work and live, into the connexion of causes and the course 
 of events ; and as the conditions are never twice alike, 
 each emergency requires a different combination of thought 
 and action to meet it. An American humorist has ob- 
 served that because Benjamin Franklin began life as 
 a tallow-chandler, and entered Philadelphia with half-a- 
 loaf in his pocket, other boys were expected to do the 
 same, if they ever hoped to rise in the world. The 
 remark, though purposely exaggerated, sufficiently expresses 
 a prevalent feeling. Scipio and Garibaldi were heroes and 
 military men, Paul and Peter were apostles. Must I too 
 become a military man or an apostle ? The men whose 
 lives we are asked to imitate were great, not because they 
 followed the precedents of those that had gone before, but 
 because they relied on themselves, looked into matters 
 for themselves, and acted on insight into the immediate 
 conditions under which they lived and worked. To follow 
 precedent is not so much a mark of true insight, as an 
 indolent substitute for the want of it. Buonaparte him- 
 self, if he were to rise from his grave and follow his old 
 tactics, would be a superannuation and a failure. To be a 
 success, a man must conform to the existing conditions of 
 success. Does he aim at being a business success ? He 
 must understand, not the state of trade in the last decade, 
 but the relation of supply and demand to-day. A political 
 success ? Not the history of politics in the last century, 
 but the wants and opinions of men in his own time. A 
 literary power ? Not the records of extinct theologies and 
 philosophies, but the present aspirations, thoughts, and 
 sentiments of the great bulk of cultivated readers. Or 
 does he reject entirely all the idols of the theatre, the 
 market, and the den, and appeal to truths that are eternal 
 and immortal ? This, too, has its conditions, which must 
 be obeyed.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HISTORY PHILOSOPHICAL. 
 
 IN the last chapter we considered History as a record and 
 narrative of facts only. But it is usually more than a 
 mere record. In the works of writers like Gibbon, Hume, 
 Grote, Macaulay, Carlyle, the narrative is interwoven with 
 philosophical and other reflections, which serve as bond 
 and connecting link to the web and sequence of events ; 
 the problem of the Historian being to find such causes, 
 motives, and impulses, as shall be sufficient to explain the 
 facts, and bind them into a complete and harmonious 
 whole. If the motives and causes assigned are felt to 
 spring naturally from the situation and character of the 
 actors, we say the historian has given us a faithful account 
 of the period he is recording ; if not, we are dissatisfied, 
 and pronounce his work a failure ; as when a novelist, after 
 laying down the ground-work of his characters, is unable 
 to make them consistent or realisable. In other words, 
 unless the causes assigned as adequate in the Past, would 
 be considered adequate to produce the same results in the 
 Present, we do not credit the representation. In a 
 celebrated chapter of his great work, Gibbon has enumer- 
 ated the causes which he deems sufficient to account for 
 the spread of Christianity in the Early Ages. We ask 
 ourselves whether the like causes would account for like 
 facts, under like circumstances, to-day ; and accept or 
 
 D
 
 34 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 rejectsr his conclusions accordingly. Carlyle gives us what 
 is called a 'new estimate' of Cromwell, and Froude of 
 Henry VIII. We consider whether the estimates fit the 
 facts according to the present laws of human nature, and 
 so give or withhold our approbation. So that History,, 
 instead of throwing light on the Present, gets all the light 
 it has to give from the Present ; instead of being the 
 standpoint from which the Present is to be interpreted 
 and guided, the Present is the standpoint, and History is 
 but illustration and commentary merely. The neglect of 
 this principle of interpretation has been the source of 
 far-reaching errors in historians otherwise great and 
 admirable. No historian, perhaps, has taken more pains 
 to make his characters credible and consistent than 
 Carlyle. He is constantly asking us whether we can 
 believe that men like Cromwell, Frederick, or Mirabeau,. 
 who did such and such things under such and such cir- 
 cumstances, could have been the men they are usually 
 represented to be ; and tells us that if we cannot do so, we 
 are bound to reject the representation. But he sometimes 
 departs from this, his own, principle of judging the Past 
 by the Present, and when he does so, he falls into those 
 peculiar errors from which most of his political heresies 
 have taken their rise. He was never weary, for instance, 
 of praising what he called the beautiful relation that 
 existed between lord and serf under the old feudal regime : 
 and of holding it up as a kind of exemplar for our 
 imitation and guidance at the present time. In this rela- 
 tion, he asserted, the lord, on the one hand, gave guidance 
 and protection ; the serf, in return, loyalty and obedience. 
 Now, not only was this not true as a historical fact, except 
 in the most mechanical sense, but no man can believe 
 that it ever could have been the fact. If. we consider the 
 relation in its effects on the heart (and this, indeed, was 
 Carlyle s chief concern), instead of being beautiful, it was 
 absolutely demoralising. Although the serf ma}' have 
 given loyalty and obedience (for there is no power so base
 
 HISTORY PHILOSOPHICAL. 35 
 
 and oppressive but will be reverenced by those who suffer 
 from it), the lord, in return, regarded the serf as little 
 better than a beast of the field, and treated him accord- 
 ingly. As for the protection he afforded the serf, it was 
 simply a piece of mutually-advantageous self-interest ; 
 while the guidance he gave him eventuated in that brutal 
 ignorance in which he has lain until our own time. 
 Carlyle would not, of course, have the identical relation 
 repeated in the present day ; he would put a hero in the 
 place of a lord, and the people in general in the place of a 
 herd of serfs. But the upshot would be the same while 
 the relationship continued, were it even to the end of 
 Time on the one hand a nation of flunkeys, and on the 
 other, a tyrant who would treat them as slaves. This 
 result inheres in the very essence of the relation, and must 
 reappear under like conditions in every age and nation. 
 No history, groping among the dead rubbish-heaps of the 
 Past, can obliterate this pregnant truth drawn from a just 
 insight into To-day. 
 
 But how, it may be asked, are we to interpret the Past 
 from the Present, if there are no institutions in the present 
 answering to those in the past ? We have no serfs, for 
 example, in England at the present time, how then are we 
 to understand a state of Society of which they were a 
 component element ? The answer is by analogy, by look- 
 ing at the essence of the relation. Between a modern 
 master and his lackeys and dependents, the same essential 
 relation subsists as between the lord and serf of feudal 
 times. If we realise to ourselves the full round of this 
 relationship, deepen the shades to correspond with the 
 more absolute power possessed by a lord in early times, 
 allow for a more aristocratic state of opinion and belief, 
 the result will be the solution desired. This method of 
 interpreting the Past from the Present has been followed 
 by Shakspeare in his great historical dramas, with such 
 success as we all know. He wishes, for example, to give 
 us a picture of old Roman times.
 
 36 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 and other sources the broad historical facts, the form of 
 Government and Religion, the distribution of Power and 
 Authority; this is the skeleton to which he has to give life 
 and reality. How does he proceed ? He simply takes his 
 stand on the times in which he himself lived ; notes the 
 effects existing institutions have on his own and other 
 minds ; allows for the differences in custom, mode of life, 
 and political and religious forms ; and the result is a drama 
 or dramas more real and lifelike, more true and believable, 
 an insight into the working of Roman life more subtle 
 and profound, than all the husks with which the historians 
 have furnished us. Instead of History giving us any 
 insight into To-day, it is only our insight into To-day that 
 can make the old dead bones of History live. 
 
 I am aware that there are a certain number of genera- 
 lizations which are supposed to be the peculiar products 
 of History, and which, whether for warning or encourage- 
 ment, have a mystic sanctity attached to them quite out 
 of proportion to their real value. These teachings of 
 History, as they are called, include, among the rest, such 
 well-worn platitudes as that luxury is the cause of decline 
 in States; that the license of democracies ends in des- 
 potism ; and that the first breath of liberty, instead 01 
 appeasing discontent, excites it. Now, whatever truth 
 there may be in these generalities, our belief in them 
 is no more due to the teachings of History, than our 
 belief that two and two make four is due to the teaching 
 of History. Were they not seen to hold true at the 
 present time, to say that History affirmed them would 
 have about as much weight as to say that, because 
 History affirmed it, two and two made five. We believe 
 luxury to be the forerunner of decline, not because History 
 affirms the sequence, but because we see to-day that 
 luxury tends to selfishness, isolation, and enervation, 
 and that these relax those social bonds without which a 
 nation cannot subsist. We believe the license of de- 
 mocracies will end in despotism, not because a number of
 
 HISTOR YPHILOSOPHICA L . 37 
 
 historical facts support the induction, but because we 
 perceive that license breeds disorder, and out of disorder 
 order can come only by supreme power being placed for 
 the time in the hands of some one individual. We can- 
 not, of course, make as many direct observations as we 
 should wish on the relations between the fall of States 
 and their political antecedents. We cannot have empires 
 and kingdoms falling to pieces every day before our eyes 
 to serve merely as crucial experiments for our political 
 inductions. We are obliged, accordingly, to draw on 
 the Past for such historical sequences as shall supplement 
 the want of direct observation, and shall illustrate and 
 enforce our political convictions. And it is precisely here 
 that History is of service. Not that it teaches us any- 
 thing new, but that it strengthens the convictions we have 
 already formed from observation of the Present, by fur- 
 nishing us with evidence of their truth in times gone by. 
 It gives us the same sort of assurance as if we had 
 discovered the account of an ancient eclipse in some old 
 forgotten book, after having read that its exact time had 
 been calculated by astronomers of our own day. It does 
 for mankind what the experience of other minds does for 
 the individual. The greater part of our knowledge is got 
 by proxy, and not by direct experience. It is largely- 
 drawn from the reports of reliable contemporaries, or 
 from the books and conversation of eye-witnesses. Never- 
 theless, we believe and act on the information received, 
 not because the authority is infallible, but because it runs 
 in accord with our other beliefs, or at least does no 
 violence to them. I can believe in events I have not 
 witnessed, in crimes I have not committed, not because 
 the testimony is unimpeachable, but because it corresponds 
 to tendencies which I feel in myself, or see in the world 
 around me. I can believe in a man killing his neighbour in 
 a passion, although I have never witnessed it, because I 
 can realise the extent to which passion will go when un- 
 checked by higher considerations. So, too, with History. 
 
 189619
 
 3 8 . A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 It supplies the present age with the actual experience of 
 former ages, and so gives assurance that those results 
 have actually happened which we should have been led to 
 expect from tendencies visible in our own time. But the 
 conclusions drawn from it must be credible to us now, 
 or were a messenger sent from Heaven to announce them 
 we should not believe him. And thus it is that the 
 fraction of eternity known as To-day, will, if rightly seen, 
 balance the whole of recorded History, as easily as a drop 
 of water, when rightly placed, will balance the sea. 
 
 That History gets all its credence from insight into 
 To-day, appears in nothing more clearly than in the decay 
 into which the old belief in Miracles has fallen in the 
 present age. The historical facts which support the 
 belief still exist as they did in the Middle Ages, and are as 
 much a part of well-authenticated history as any other 
 transaction. Why, then, are they not believed in now as 
 they were formerly ? Simply because History gets all its 
 authority from insight into the present world, and not 
 from the credibility of witnesses, however trustworthy. 
 In the days when miracles in general were believed in, that 
 is to say, in the days when the interposition of super- 
 natural agents in human affairs was believed in, any 
 special set of miracles was of course a priori credible. 
 But, to-day, no supernatural agencies whatever are believed 
 to interpose in human affairs, and consequently accounts 
 of miracles, no matter by what authority attested, are 
 almost entirely discredited. The reason why supernatural 
 agents were formerly believed to interpose in human 
 affairs, was simply because events were constantly hap- 
 pening on every side which could not, in the then state of 
 knowledge, be explained by natural causes; and that, con- 
 sequently, by the profoundest law of human nature, men 
 were bound to attribute to wills like their own what could 
 not be referred to natural agencies. The reason, on the 
 other hand, why we do not now believe in supernatural 
 jnterpositions, is simply because all events whatever are
 
 HISTORY PHILOSOPHICAL. . 39 
 
 believed to be traceable to natural causes, time and ob- 
 servation alone being wanting to make out the more subtle 
 and recondite connexions. It is the same with the belief 
 in Witchcraft as with the belief in Miracles. The evidence 
 in its favour was strong and convincing. Some of the 
 greatest names in the past firmly believed in it Bacon, 
 Matthew Hale, Sir Thomas Browne. To men of such 
 penetration the evidence seemed sufficient to justify the 
 belief, simply because they came to the examination of the 
 facts with minds already prepared for such interpretations. 
 They saw events occurring around them every day which 
 nothing but the supposition of invisible wills like their 
 own could explain. Hence, evidence which would have 
 been rejected by us was deemed sufficient by them. But 
 why multiply instances ? If further proof were wanting 
 that History is but an appendage and illustration of the 
 Present, and must be sternly subordinated to it, it is to 
 be found in the broad general truth that all knowledge 
 whatever is judged from the standpoint of the Present, 
 and not from the standpoint of the Past. We do not 
 judge of the nature of comets, for example, by the accounts 
 History gives of them when they were believed to ' shake 
 from their horrid hair pestilence and war,' but we judge 
 of their effects then by what we know of their nature now. 
 W T e do not judge of ancient maladies from the accounts 
 of ancient writers, but from our present knowledge of 
 disease ; even the theologians venturing timidly to hint 
 that those who were said to be possessed of devils were, 
 after all, only the victims of epilepsy. We do not believe 
 that the thunder was the voice of Jove, or the lightning 
 his thunderbolt. In short, all Old interpretations must give 
 way to the New; the Past must be postponed to the Pre- 
 sent; and Science, while pronouncing on all that has 
 gone before, is itself unjudged, save from the higher 
 standpoints to be reached in the future. 
 
 To give greater completeness to the subject, we have 
 still to consider History as a philosophical interpretation
 
 40 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 of the Past, and to enquire what light it throws on the 
 Present or the Future. It has been often remarked that 
 History may be so read as to support any belief or system 
 of thought; and, indeed, if we consider the number of 
 contradictory theories to which it has lent its aid, there 
 would seem to be a good deal of truth in the imputation. 
 I have noticed that those theories of the World or of 
 Society which profess to rest on a wide induction of 
 historical facts, carry much greater weight in the public 
 mind, than those that stand, unsupported, on direct insight 
 into things around us. The bulk and pretentiousness act 
 on the imagination, as a Lord-mayor's show on nursery- 
 maids and children, and mightily enhance the dignity and 
 weight of the argument. When we read Comte, or 
 Buckle, or Spencer, and their respective accounts of the 
 progress of Civilization, we imagine that the theories they 
 are seeking to establish have arisen in their own minds, 
 out of the facts presented, as easily and naturally as they 
 do in their books. We are accordingly lost in admiration 
 at the grasp of intellect that can survey, like a God, in one 
 vast picture and perspective, the whole movement of 
 humanity ; the eye is dazzled, and loses its sense of pro- 
 portion ; and the imagination, crushed like an Enceladus 
 under a mountain of tradition and authority, is paralyzed 
 and unable to stir. But the more penetrating minds 
 perceive that the theory, instead of flowing spontaneously 
 from the facts, has really been projected into them, only 
 such facts being adduced as run in accord with it ; and that 
 the great draughts swept into the net, have been as carefully 
 selected beforehand, as those fish which Anthony drew 
 from the sea with such eclat, but which Cleopatra 
 discovered to have been put on by boys paid to descend 
 for the purpose. Instead of the theory being, as is 
 supposed, the concentrated result and product of the 
 author's reading, the reading has been an elaborate search 
 for facts to support the theory. Instead of having been 
 drawn from a vast array of historical facts, the theory has
 
 HISTORY PHILOSOPHICAL. 
 
 4 
 
 really been drawn from a limited observation of men and 
 things around; and is usually either the development of 
 some striking generalization of outer facts, or the 
 expansion of some pregnant law of the human mind. The 
 consequence is, that it has no force over and above the 
 limited range of facts from which it was drawn in the first 
 instance ; as the' complicated machinery of a mill has no 
 power over and above the simple motor by which it is 
 turned. Mr. Spencer, for example, admits that his theory 
 of Evolution, which appears to the reader as if it had 
 unfolded itself in the most natural and spontaneous 
 manner from the facts detailed, was really suggested by a 
 striking observation of Von Baer, to the effect that 
 organisms in their development pass from a homogeneous 
 to a heterogeneous condition. This generalization seemed 
 to crystallize and unite into a harmonious whole, many 
 observations already made by Spencer himself in dif- 
 ferent fields of scientific research. Accordingly,, after 
 giving the generalization a more precise and definite form, 
 he ranges systematically with it through the different 
 classes of scientific facts, and finds that it is the law which 
 they all obey. All this is, of course, quite legitimate, 
 seeing that the facts of science are objective realities which 
 exist to-day and are open to examination and inspection. 
 But when he ascends the stream of existence to its source, 
 and undertakes to show how things arose (and, indeed, it is 
 this that gives bulk to his volumes), his special interpreta- 
 tions have no more value than the general theory they are 
 intended to illustrate. For example, he undertakes to 
 show us the origin of life, of species, of the nervous 
 system ; of our ideas of time and space ; of the conscience ; 
 of the sense of beauty, sublimity, and virtue ; of societies, 
 religions, and forms of government ; and all on the theory 
 of Evolution ; going so far even as to have his sociological 
 facts collected by proxy in support and verification of the 
 hypothesis. Now, seeing that the origin of things lies 
 quite beyond our observation, being buried in the recesses
 
 42 A NEIV ORGANON* 
 
 of the past, it is clear that his explanations only go to 
 show how things might have arisen if the theory of 
 Evolution were true, not how they actually have arisen. 
 Whether the theory of Evolution is itself to be regarded 
 as true or false, will depend not so much on how far it 
 will explain the illusory phenomena of the past, as how 
 far it will explain the phenomena that lie around us in the 
 present. The consequence is, that any disparagement 
 thrown on the theory by the evidence of facts adverse to 
 it in the present hour, would blow to the winds all the 
 long years of toil spent on uncertain or fantastic specula- 
 tions. Indeed, if one known fact could be distinctly 
 adduced to negative the general theory, the whole body 
 and superstructure of special interpretations and explana- 
 tions would fall to the ground. I do not wish, in these 
 remarks, to disparage the great ingenuity and subtlety 
 shown by Mr. Spencer, still less to deny his great con- 
 tributions to thought, his original glances into things, and 
 the many and various fields of speculation he has opened 
 up. I merely desire to point out, that all philosophical 
 interpretations of the Past whatsoever (and especially in 
 the domain of History), instead of throwing light on the 
 Present, get all their light from the Present ; and are to be 
 considered just and reliable, in proportion as the insight they 
 exhibit into the Present is deep, exact, and comprehensive. 
 It is the same with Comte's Philosophy of History. He 
 declares that his Law of the Three Stages through which 
 Humanity has passed the Theological, the Metaphysical, 
 and the Positive was drawn entirely from a survey of the 
 historical facts. But if you will look closely, you will find 
 that (more or less unconsciously to himself) it was really 
 drawn as a corollary from a Law of the Human Mind 
 the Law, viz., that in proportion as natural causes are 
 unknown, events are attributed to wills like our own ; 
 and moreover, that it is his belief in the truth of this law 
 that makes him so firm in his conviction that his reading 
 of History is the only true and scientific one. And as he
 
 HISTORY PHILOSOPHICAL. 43 
 
 makes' not only Religion, but also Practical Life turn on 
 this law, the whole of History thus becomes the corollary 
 of a law r of the human mind, the same yesterday, to-day, 
 and forever. I cannot, of course, enter here into any 
 discussion as to the amount of truth there may be in this 
 law, or the extent to which it is applicable to societies. 
 I only remark, that if it can be shown to be limited in its 
 range, partially operative, or restricted to a particular 
 sphere, any reading of History, founded on it alone, must 
 be proportionately narrow, one-sided, and incomplete. 
 
 On all hands, then, it is evident that History can give us 
 no insight into the Present, but that it is insight into the 
 Present that gives to History all that it has of truth or 
 consistency. Of what use are the laborious accumulations 
 of historical details piled up by Montesquieu, in support of 
 his theory that Climate is the prime cause of the difference 
 between nations, in power and energy, in customs and 
 forms of government, when our own experience teaches us 
 that climate, although a factor in social phenomena, is after 
 all only a factor of subordinate importance ? What has it 
 availed Buckle that he should have spent years in ran- 
 sacking the libraries of the world in support of his theory 
 that Man is the slave of circumstances, when every day 
 shows us that circumstances are as often the slaves of 
 men, as men are the slaves of circumstances? What has 
 it availed Carlyle that he should have spent his long life 
 wrestling with Dryasdasts in dreary despair, wringing 
 History and Biography to prove that Hero-worship is the 
 eternal adamantine rock on which alone nations can rest 
 secure, when we see every day, that, while it deifies the 
 hero, it degrades the worshipper, and that, while it some- 
 times gives rise to a beautiful spirit of devotion and 
 self-sacrifice, it more frequently ends in flunkeyism and 
 meanness of soul ? 
 
 " Be lord of a day by wisdom and virtue and you may 
 put up your history-books."
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 METAPHYSICS. 
 
 IN the preceding chapter we entered on an examination 
 of History, with the view of determining scientifically 
 what light it threw on the Present and the Future ; and 
 as the result of that examination we found that in neither 
 of its three great divisions neither as a mere record and 
 narrative of transactions such as is found in ordinary his- 
 tory-books, nor as an interweaving and connecting of these 
 with their immediate and special causes, as in the writings 
 of Gibbon, Grote, and Macaulay, nor yet again as a full 
 and all-round interpretation of them, as in Buckle, Comte, 
 and Spencer did it give us any real insight into the 
 Present, but that, on the contrary, it was insight into the 
 Present that gave to the Past and the theories with which 
 it is overlaid, all the value and credibility they possess for 
 us ; thus degrading History as an instrument of knowledge 
 into commentary, illustration, and appendage merely. 
 Now, as the main object of this work is to determine, in as 
 scientific a way as possible, the great Laws of the Human 
 Mind on which Religions are constructed, and along the 
 lines of which they are evolved, and the parts played in 
 human life by Religion, Government, and Material and 
 Social Conditions respectively, with the view of exhibiting 
 the way in which these great factors have acted and inter- 
 acted on each other to produce the complex phenomena
 
 METAPHYSICS. 45 
 
 of Civilization and Progress, it now becomes necessary to 
 enquire what is the special nature of that insight into the 
 Present, so indispensable for the solution of these great 
 and important problems. And so, running our minds 
 over the different departments of thought, we shall find 
 that, leaving out History and Sociology which we have 
 seen to be unsuited for our present enterprise, the various 
 recognised instruments of knowledge may all be reduced 
 to four Physical Science, Political Economy, Metaphysics 
 and the modern science of Psychology. In the present 
 chapter, accordingly, I propose to enquire briefly whether, 
 and to what extent, any of the methods employed in these 
 various departments of thought will furnish us with what 
 we require. 
 
 Of the Physical and Natural Sciences, with their 
 Baconian methods of Observation and Experiment, little, 
 indeed, need be said. A glance through the pages of 
 Tyndall, Huxley, or Darwin, will show that they deal 
 entirely with physical and material things, and do not touch 
 upon those laws of the mental and spiritual world on 
 which, as I shall endeavour to show, Religions are con- 
 structed, and along the lines of which they are evolved. 
 No one can be more convinced than myself of the pro- 
 found influence exerted over the old religious beliefs the 
 six days' creation, fall of man, and the consequent atone- 
 ment and redemption by the discoveries of modern 
 Science as to the position of Man in the universe, the 
 age of the World, and the mode of evolution of the animals 
 and plants covering its surface ; and no one can be more 
 alive to the extent to which the evolution of Religions is 
 modified by the Physical Sciences generally. But the 
 object of my enquiries is to find, not what are the facts or 
 truths of the External World by which Religions are or 
 have been modified, but what are the laws of the Human 
 Mind which determine that modification. Religion deals 
 with the thoughts and feelings of the mind ; Physical 
 Science with the changes and movements of matter.
 
 46 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 And just as the changes in the world of matter follow 
 some law of Physics, so the changes in the moral and 
 spiritual world may be expected to follow some law of 
 Mind. It is evident that the method of external observa- 
 tion and experiment by which the laws of the evolution of 
 Matter are determined, cannot be the method by which 
 the laws of the evolution of Religions are to be discovered, 
 and that, therefore, the Physical Sciences cannot furnish 
 us with the organon we require. I am, of course, aware 
 that the physical science of Biology deals, among other 
 things, with the relation existing between the mind and 
 the brain and nervous system, and thereby indirectly 
 establishes a connexion between things mental and things 
 material. But, as this connexion is the basis of the modern 
 science of Psychology, I prefer rather to treat of it under 
 that heading, and so shall postpone all further remarks on 
 it until we arrive at the section dealing with that science. 
 Of Political Economy, too, a few remarks will suffice. 
 If we run through the pages of Mill or Adam Smith, for 
 example, we shall find that these representative writers 
 deal entirely with the laws that regulate the production 
 and distribution of the material commodity ^'ealth, but 
 have nothing to say as to the effects of the different 
 modes of distribution of this commodity on the moral 
 and spiritual nature of man. If the land of a country, for 
 example, is held in a few hands, and kept from dispersion 
 by obstructive laws of entail and settlement of great 
 stringency ; and if, further, industry and population have 
 grown up on this basis and adapted themselves to it ; 
 Political Economy will step in and undertake to show you 
 the laws by which the relative amount of wealth that shall 
 fall to the landlord, the capitalist, and the labourer 
 respectively shall be regulated ; and with that its function 
 ends. I, on the contrary, propose to begin where Political 
 Economy leaves off, and, assuming this particular arrange- 
 ment of property and industry, shall endeavour to show 
 what effect it (and the aristocratic regime that springs
 
 METAPHYSICS. 47 
 
 naturally out of it), has on the body of the people living 
 under it on their culture, their aspirations, their senti- 
 ments, and habits of thought. In like manner, too, I pro- 
 pose to deal with the effects on the human mind of that 
 wide and general equality in the distribution of wealth 
 which is the basis of Democracy. It is evident that 
 the science which deals with the laws that regulate the 
 production and distribution of the material commodity, 
 wealth, cannot furnish us with the organon necessary to- 
 determine the laws which regulate the effects of that dis- 
 tribution on the minds and characters of men. 
 
 History, the Physical Sciences, and Political Economy,, 
 being thus thrown out as unable to furnish us with the 
 organon or instrument of investigation we require, I come 
 now to Metaphysics ; and, as the subject is intricate,, 
 thorny, and notoriously beset with pitfalls, it will behove me 
 to pick my steps with caution. For my own part, I must 
 frankly say, at the outset, that Metaphysics has long ceased 
 to have any influence on my own speculations ; and that 
 neither directly or indirectly have its results been involved 
 in the conclusions which it is the object of this work to 
 enforce. In saying this, I, of course, speak of Metaphysics 
 in its old sense the sense in which the term was used 
 before the science of Biology had established those 
 definite connections between the mind and the material 
 organ of the brain, the discovery of which has had in 
 many ways such important consequences, and (as em- 
 bodied in the modern science of Psychology) has almost 
 entirely superseded the old Metaphysics. Now, in order 
 to make clear to myself why a subject so vague and diffuse 
 as Metaphysics, should at no point of its compass have 
 come in contact with questions so wide and general as 
 those to be hereinafter discussed, I have thought it expe- 
 dient to go through once again some of the standard 
 works on the subject Locke, Hume, Kant, Mill, and 
 others with the object of determining why its problems 
 and results have been of so little use to me. And, accord-
 
 4 8 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 ingly, on gathering up my impressions, I find that 
 Metaphysics either deals with mere words, unrealities, or 
 fictions, and therefore can be of no use in dealing with 
 facts, realities, and things ; or else it stops with the mere 
 analysis of our mental faculties, and therefore can no more 
 give us a knowledge of the truths that are to be seen by 
 these faculties, than an analysis of the structure of the eye 
 can give us a knowledge of the things that are to be seen 
 by the eye. Now, in order to justify my first contention, 
 viz., that Metaphysics deals with mere words and un- 
 realities, I propose to select a few instances, which the 
 reader will see to be typical of a large section of the 
 problems which it undertakes to resolve. My first 
 illustration will be taken from the boundless desert of 
 Theological Metaphysics ; and my endeavour will be to 
 show not only that these discussions deal with words and 
 unrealities merely, but to point out the way in which the 
 Metaphysicians, having first deceived themselves, have 
 also deceived others. 
 
 If we look around us, we see, on the one hand, physical 
 objects of all shapes, sizes, colours, weights, motions, 
 and temperatures, and, on the other, mental attributes, 
 passions, sentiments, desires, thoughts, of all degrees of 
 power, fineness, and quality. When we have ourselves seen 
 any particular object of a given class animal or tree or 
 come in contact with any particular phase of character or 
 disposition, we can afterwards, by the simple act of memory, 
 recall it with more or less vividness and accuracy, and 
 even to a large extent can base our judgments on it with 
 safety. But if we desire to convey an adequate idea of 
 the object to those who have not seen it, we cannot do so 
 by directly calling up an image of it, for that they have 
 not got. We are obliged, therefore, to do it indirectly by 
 means of something of which they have a definite idea ; 
 and what more natural than to make use of that average 
 or typical specimen of the class with which everybody is 
 supposed to be familiar. If I wish, for example, to
 
 METAPHYSICS. 49 
 
 describe a man whom you have not seen, I say he is 
 tall or he is short, meaning thereby that he is above or 
 below that average height of man of which most people 
 have a distinct image. In like manner we speak of an 
 object as hot or cold, light or dark, coarse or fine, 
 ugly or beautiful, good or bad, and the like. And as the 
 very conception of an average is that it is a mean be- 
 tween two opposite extremes, it follows that in all visible, 
 tangible, or otherwise representable objects or attributes 
 within the domain of Experience, what are called corre- 
 latives such, for example, as thick and thin, long and 
 short, hot and cold, upper and under, east and west, and 
 the like necessarily involve one another, just as one end 
 of a stick necessarily involves another end. Now this 
 necessity of thought by which correlatives involve one 
 another, owing to their tacit reference to some average or 
 central point which must have an extreme on each side of 
 it, is, you will observe, purely confined to the realm of 
 Experience from which it is originally derived, and does 
 not legitimately hold beyond. But the Metaphysicians, 
 seizing on the phrase " correlatives necessarily involve 
 each other," as if it were an axiom of thought, proceed 
 straightway to give it a universal application, and so not 
 only walk unconsciously into a mere word-trap them- 
 selves, but lead the flocks who follow them into it also. 
 Because long necessarily involves short, thick thin, hot 
 cold, good bad, they imagine that Finite must necessarily 
 involve Infinite, Entity Non-entity, Temporal Eternal, and 
 what they call the Relative, or that which exists in relation 
 to other things, the Absolute, or that which exists out of 
 relation to all things ; not perceiving that in doing this 
 they have overstept the boundary line within which the 
 .generalization that " correlatives necessarily involve each 
 other" holds good, viz., the sphere of Experience. For 
 what experience can I have of the Infinite or the Eternal, 
 of Non-entity, or of an Absolute out of all relation to 
 everything, even to me myself ? None whatever. And what
 
 50 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 average or middle point can there be between the Finite 
 and the Infinite, between the Relative and the Absolute, 
 between Entity and Non-entity, between Temporal and 
 Eternal, by reason of which the one must necessarily 
 involve the other ? There can be none. It is evident, 
 therefore, when we come to consider it, that the Finite 
 does not necessarily involve the Infinite, Entity Non-entity,, 
 the Relative the Absolute, the Temporal the Eternal. And 
 thus the metaphysicians, in lifting the generalization that 
 correlatives necessarily involve each other from the solid 
 ground of experience, which is its natural basis, to the 
 cloud-land of mere words, have been dealing with phan- 
 tasms and symbols that have no real existence, and, while 
 imagining themselves to be walking on terra firma, have 
 really been ballooning in a world of unreality and dreams. 
 And, after all, with what result ? With none whatever, 
 except to have set the world wrangling over contra- 
 dictions that have made Religion a stumbling-block to the 
 thoughtful, a mystery passing comprehension to the 
 vulgar. It is this Theological Metaphysics that has given 
 rise to such enigmas as how can a God, infinite in power 
 and goodness, permit evil? how can infinite justice consist 
 with infinite mercy ? and the like before which the wisest 
 can only stand bewildered and answer how? And yet 
 if we use the words infinite, eternal, absolute, in their 
 natural, and not in this verbal metaphysical sense, the 
 contradictions will fall away of themselves. When we 
 say that an emperor is absolute, we do not mean that he 
 is out of all relation to his subjects, but simply that, while 
 they depend on him, he does not depend on them. 
 When we say that Shakspeare is infinite in invention, we 
 do not use the word in its merely verbal sense, we do not 
 mean that his invention is absolutely infinite, but only 
 within the range of human experience. And, in like 
 manner, if we use the terms infinite, absolute, and the 
 like, in reference to God, in their natural and not merely 
 verbal sense, there will be no contradiction to clear away.
 
 METAPHYSICS. 5 r 
 
 Precisely the same wrangling and contradictions have 
 arisen over the metaphysical doctrine of the Trinity, of 
 the Three in One and One in Three, and for precisely the 
 same reasons. But of this enough. I would only remark, 
 as the most curious circumstance of all, that when the 
 Metaphysicians have thus tacked their fictions on to 
 the nature of God, they then turn round and proceed 
 to abuse the human understanding for not being able to 
 fathom the contradictions which they themselves have 
 created, and for which they alone are responsible. Dean 
 Mansel, for example, seriously asks you whether it does 
 not pass human understanding that infinite power and 
 goodness should permit evil that infinite justice is 
 compatible with infinite mercy? and, having candidly 
 admitted that it does, becomes almost triumphant over 
 the fact ; urging it as an instance of the weakness of 
 human reason, and of the consequent necessity for a 
 Revelation to disclose those things which, being beyond 
 our comprehension, must be taken on trust alone. It was 
 this constructing a God with metaphysical attributes, and 
 then trying to look at the world through the eyes of the 
 metaphysical illusion they had created, and to coerce 
 Nature and humanity into accord with it, that gave rise 
 to the doctrine of Predestination and the exploded 
 Calvinisms of other days. God, being infinite in know- 
 ledge, must have foreseen everything that would occur ; 
 and, not being like the gods of Epicurus, who reigned but 
 did not govern, must have fore-ordained the greater 
 number of human souls to everlasting perdition a pretty 
 consummation which Metaphysics has brought us to! 
 The truth is, that had not the great masses of men 
 (and these it is who have kept up the religions of the 
 world) had a healthy contempt for Metaphysics with 
 its infinites, and absolutes, and threes in one and one in 
 threes had they not, when forced to listen to such 
 metaphysical word-play, put their own natural and human, 
 and not metaphysical, construction upon it ; had they not,
 
 5? A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 when they heard God spoken of as infinite in power, 
 goodness, justice, and the like, interpreted these phrases 
 to mean what they meant, viz., the idealization and 
 highest expression of attributes within their conception, 
 Religion must long since have gone to wreck from internal 
 and inherent contradictions. 
 
 The above are a few instances which I think may be 
 regarded as fairly typical of the wordy unrealities and 
 fictions with which Metaphysics has occupied itself through- 
 out that large section of its domain covered by Theology. 
 The remainder of the ground occupied by Metaphysics is 
 devoted to the analysis of the various faculties and 
 functions of the mind, and the decomposition of these into 
 their primary and constituent elements ; and here, too, a 
 few illustrations will show us that this can no more give 
 us a knowledge of the truths that are to be seen by these 
 faculties, than an analysis of the structure of the eye can 
 give us a knowledge of the things that are to be seen by 
 the eye. 
 
 We are at all hours of the day forming judgments of one 
 kind or another on the events going on around us ; adding 
 to our knowledge of men and things, and going through 
 processes of reasoning as to the contingencies and pro- 
 babilities of life. Now, if we take up the works of the 
 professed Metaphysicians, such as Locke and Hume and 
 Kant, we shall find that, instead of telling us what 
 judgments under any given circumstances and conditions 
 men will necessarily form (according to known laws of the 
 mind) on any concrete human thing about them, or 
 furnishing us with reasons for or against any particular 
 course of action or conduct, they confine themselves 
 entirely to telling us in what the mental act of judgment 
 consists, what constitutes the reasoning process, or how a 
 piece of organized knowledge is made possible at all. 
 Locke, for example, who figures the mind as like a piece of 
 white paper on which the impressions that come to us 
 through the senses write themselves directly as they are,
 
 METAPHYSICS. 53 
 
 without any change, regards a judgment, a reason, or a 
 piece of knowledge, as simply the indifferent scrawlings of 
 these successive experiences, more or less sorted perhaps 
 by some kind of vague affinity or principle of association. 
 Kant, on the other hand, contends that the unity which 
 characterizes a definite judgment or piece of knowledge, 
 could not arise directly from the separate and isolated 
 impressions furnished by the senses, but that, on the 
 contrary, just as in a carding-machine between the raw 
 material of wool that goes in at one end, and the con- 
 tinuous and definite thread of yarn that comes out at the 
 other, there must be interposed a series of cylinders and 
 wheels and grooves which work the separate pieces into a 
 single thread, so between the raw material of knowledge 
 that goes in by the senses and the formed judgments 
 and reasons that issue from the mind, there must be 
 interposed a number of grooves or ' categories,' as he 
 calls them time, space, cause and effect, and the like 
 in the mind, which must be impressed on our sen- 
 sations before they can become perceptions, judgments, 
 reasons, knowledge. It is the same with our beliefs, 
 and the assents we give to truths of various kinds. 
 The Metaphysician does not, as such, profess to tell us 
 what, under given circumstances, men will believe about 
 any concrete human interest whatever any religion, 
 institution, form of government, state of society or how 
 they were produced ; he does not tell us to what pro- 
 positions we shall give our assent, or from what we shall 
 withhold it, but merely discusses in what the mental act 
 of belief or assent consists ; Locke holding that the degree 
 of belief or assent we give to any proposition is strictly 
 proportioned to the probabilities in its favour, and the 
 evidence by which it is supported ; while Cardinal 
 Newman contends, on the contrary, that there are no 
 degrees to a man's assent, and that it may be often 
 yielded when the reasons adduced for the belief would be 
 far from carrying conviction to another's mind.
 
 54 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 But, besides the judgments, the beliefs, the reasoning 
 processes on every variety of topic, that make up so much 
 of our life, we are the subjects of feelings, sentiments, 
 passions, desires, and aspirations, which ever and anon 
 cross the current of our thoughts, diverting them in an 
 easy unconscious way into their own channels, or con- 
 centrating them fixedly on some special object. There is 
 the feeling of Love, for example, which plays so large a part 
 in human life, and is so pregnant with important issues ; 
 the feeling of Duty, so essential to individual and social 
 well-being; the feelings of Benevolence, Reverence, Mercy, 
 Pity, and the like. On these, too, as on the intellectual 
 faculties proper, the Metaphysicians set to work with 
 their scalpels to dissect and analyse them into their 
 constituent elements ; disputing as to which are to be set 
 aside as simple and ultimate, and which are further 
 resolvable into modes of pleasure and pain, of self-interest, 
 self-love, expediency and the like. And, lastly, the Meta- 
 physicians have put the Will under the microscope, and, 
 as we all know, have filled the libraries of the world with 
 their endless discussions as to its nature, what it is in 
 itself, and whether it is really or only apparently free. 
 
 The above are examples of the questions with which 
 all Metaphysics outside the range of Theology are con- 
 cerned; and it will, I think, be evident, without further 
 comment, that their results, however useful in themselves, 
 can be of no service for my present purpose ; as no 
 explanation or analysis, however ultimate and complete, of 
 what a judgment is, what a reason is, what a belief is, or 
 of what love is, duty is, hope is, will is, can throw the 
 least light on what, under given circumstances, a man will 
 believe, will consider his duty to be, and will consequently 
 do. And as each and every concrete religion of the world 
 has prescribed more or less definitely and minutely to its 
 votaries the number and character of the deities they are 
 to believe in, the propositions they are to hold about the 
 nature and attributes of these deities, who and what they are
 
 METAPHYSICS. 55 
 
 to love and revere, what they must will to do or avoid, what 
 they are to fear, and what they are to hope for, it is evident 
 that Metaphysics, in so far as it is engaged in isolating the 
 different faculties, feelings, and sentiments of the mind, 
 and analysing them into their constituent elements, can 
 throw no light whatever on the origin of these concrete 
 religions, on the great laws on which they are constructed, 
 and along which they are evolved ; and so cannot supply 
 us with the organon or instrument we require. 
 
 Before leaving the subject of Metaphysics, however, I 
 desire to remark that the question as to whether 
 Metaphysics has played any positive part in advancing 
 knowledge, whether and in what way its results have 
 modified our views of the world and of human life, I 
 shall postpone until I have considered the value for my 
 purposes of the modern science of Psychology, to which I 
 shall now address myself.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PSYCHOLOGY. 
 
 WITHIN the last fifty years the science of Biology has- 
 made gigantic strides, and among other things the con- 
 nexion between the brain and the mind, based on an 
 immense induction of observation and experiment, has- 
 been shown to be so minute and exact, that the conclusions 
 drawn from the truth of this connexion have profoundly 
 modified the old systems of Metaphysics, if indeed they 
 have not to a great extent superseded them altogether. 
 While the Metaphysicians of the old school have gone 
 on tumbling and tossing on a shoreless and bottomless sea 
 of speculation, revolving in endless vortices unable to 
 advance, devouring and being devoured by each other in 
 turn, the Biologist standing looking on, secure in his new- 
 found truth, has practically addressed them as follows : 
 All attempts to analyse the Human Mind and resolve it 
 into its original elements, when it is detached from that 
 material structure which is its counterpart and regarded 
 as pure spirit alone, have hitherto proved and are forever 
 likely to prove impotent and vain. Now, if you will allow 
 me, I shall be pleased to offer you, in your perplexities, 
 fluctuations, and uncertainties, one fixed point at least on 
 which you may stand secure, and from which you may 
 take a new departure ; and that point is the fact, that for 
 every thought, feeling, or emotion passing through the
 
 PSYCHOLOGY. 57 
 
 mind, there is a corresponding change in the movements 
 of the brain and nerve centres. The use to which you 
 can put this suggestion is this, that if you are unable to 
 satisfactorily analyse the Mind by a direct introspection 
 of its operations, you may be able to do so indirectly 
 by an analysis of what is always open to you, viz. the 
 structure of the brain. That is to say, if by a wide and 
 minute comparison of the brains of all animals from the 
 lowest to the highest, you can discover any principle 
 on which the higher have been built-up out of the lower ; 
 if you can find any unity of plan running through 
 the nervous mechanism of them all; if you can show, 
 in a word, that the highest organizations are built on 
 the same type as the lowest, by the mere compounding 
 and re-compounding of the same original elements; 
 you will possess a clue as to the way in which the 
 Human Mind itself has been built up, which will be of 
 the very highest value. For all you will then have to 
 do will be to find, by observation and reflection, the 
 key to the cipher which shall correctly translate the 
 material changes into the mental changes, and to apply 
 this key consistently throughout ; at the same time that 
 by a process of introspection you verify the conclusions 
 arrived at. Acting on this suggestion Mr. Herbert 
 Spencer, of all metaphysicians the one most profoundly 
 acquainted with the results of biological research, 
 proceeded to compare the nervous systems of all orders 
 of animals ; and by the aid of that principle of Evolution 
 which was of such universal application in other fields, 
 was soon able to announce what he called the unit of the 
 nervous system a nervous nodule with two filaments, 
 sensory and motor attached and to show that the 
 nervous systems of all animals, up to Man himself, were 
 but the compounding and re-compounding of this simple 
 unit, in more definite, more complex, and more con- 
 centrated forms. And having discovered, further, that the 
 mental side or face of this primitive unit of nerve structure
 
 .58 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 was what is known as Reflex Action, it became com- 
 paratively easy for him to demonstrate that Instinct, 
 Perception, Reason, Memory, Imagination, Will, and all 
 the higher activities of the human mind, were but different 
 sides of this simple reflex act, of greater and greater 
 complexity, and on higher and higher planes. Intro- 
 spection confirmed this objective analysis, and showed 
 that all mental operations whatever, however complex and 
 remote operations which the old school of metaphysicians 
 had found it impossible to reduce to unity could be 
 demonstrated by the assistance of these biological re- 
 searches to be compounded out of, and therefore resolvable 
 .again into, one simple act. At the same time, too, 
 Mr. Spencer was able, by following this biological method, 
 to reconcile the chronic antagonism which had existed 
 between rival schools of metaphysicians since the days of 
 Plato and Aristotle ; for, while holding with the school of 
 Locke and Mill that all knowledge was derived from 
 Experience and association of ideas, his conclusions 
 justified the splendid insight of Kant, who perceived that 
 there must be mental moulds or ' categories ' to give 
 form to such Experience ; while at the same time they 
 showed that these categories themselves, instead of being 
 native to the mind, and underived, as Kant thought them, 
 were really the well-worn ruts and channels which similar 
 impressions from without had made for themselves 
 through the mind, during a long course of hereditary 
 transmission. 
 
 But while Psychology has thus been able to give us a 
 more scientific analysis of the faculties of the mind than 
 the old metaphysical systems, and one, too, resting to a 
 great extent on a basis of demonstrable fact, it never- 
 theless, like Metaphysics, ends in analysis only. It 
 undertakes to show us what reflex action is, what instinct 
 is, what judgment is, what the imagination is, what the 
 will is, and the like, but cannot, indeed does not profess 
 to show us what men, under given circumstances, will
 
 PSYCHOLOGY. 59 
 
 believe on any great concrete interest of human life 
 on Religion, Government, and Society nor can it show 
 the effects of these on the Human Mind ; it gives us no 
 help in understanding the concrete Religions of the World, 
 or the great Laws of the Mind on which they are con- 
 structed, and along the lines of which they are evolved. 
 It can throw no light therefore on the problems attempted 
 in this work, and, so far, may be dismissed as unsuitable 
 for our purpose. But I should be indirectly doing a real 
 injustice to Metaphysics and Psychology, if, while setting 
 them aside as incompetent to solve the problems with 
 which I propose to deal, I did not also attempt to indicate 
 their positive contributions to advancing knowledge, and 
 the part they have played in modifying our views of the 
 World and Human Life. 
 
 At the outset, perhaps, I may remark that the interest, 
 such as it is, sho\vn by the general public in Metaphysics 
 and Psychology, is owing largely to the light they are 
 believed to throw on the great problems of Religion ; 
 whether as strengthening the popular creed, modifying it, 
 or altogether destroying it. Indeed were it not for this, 
 but little interest could attach to these dry metaphysical 
 discussions, except perhaps the curiosity that is always 
 attracted to insoluble problems, and which, as in the case 
 of perpetual motion, invests them, to a certain class of 
 minds, with a perennial charm. \Vhat human interest 
 could there be, for example, in knowing whether the Will 
 is absolutely free or not, when to all intents and purposes 
 it is practically free, were it not that the answer is believed 
 to have some bearing on the moral responsibility of man, 
 and so indirectly on the doctrine of future rewards and 
 punishments ? What interest could we have in those in- 
 terminable analyses of what is called the Moral Sense, 
 those attempts to decompose it, or account for it, were it 
 not that if Duty is to be regarded merely as a form of self- 
 interest, sublimated, refined, and perhaps more or less 
 disguised, then there is nothing in man to distinguish arid
 
 60 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 separate him and his destiny from the beasts that perish ; 
 whereas if it is a thing sui generis, a ' categorical im- 
 perative,' a faculty pointing like a finger to God, then it 
 is important to every religious mind to be aware of it ? 
 And so, again, if Mind is an immaterial entity, entirely 
 unconnected with the body, there is nothing to interfere 
 with our free belief in its immortality ; but if, on the 
 other hand, it is indissolubly connected with the material 
 structure of the brain, there is an opening left for doubt 
 whether it may not die with that material body with 
 which it is bound up, with whose condition it varies, and 
 on which it would seem to depend. But if the solution of 
 these and the like questions would at any age of the world 
 have had a profound influence on religious beliefs, it is 
 important to observe that the old school of Metaphysics 
 that raised them, could not resolve them, but continued to 
 leave them vague, cloudy, and incapable of that palpable 
 proof so necessary to bring them home to the minds of 
 the great body of the people. Precisely the same problems 
 had been discussed from the earliest times, by Greek 
 Pagans and Hindu Polytheists, as well as by Christian 
 Theists ; but, except, as we have seen, by the insertion 
 into Christian Theology of a few illegimate conceptions,, 
 such as those of the Infinite and the Absolute, these 
 discussions had in no way modified the prevailing re- 
 ligions. The reason, no doubt, was that the Mind, when 
 contemplated apart from its material counterpart, the 
 brain, as it was by the old school of Metaphysicians, is so 
 subtle, vague, and shifting in its nature, so swift and 
 many-changing in its moods, many of its operations have 
 become so habitual, organic, instinctive, and but semi- 
 conscious, that analysis of it is almost hopeless ; the 
 observer, after the most patient introspection, can but 
 snatch at one or other of its passing phases, which, like- 
 auroras, escape and vanish before he can fix their cha- 
 racters, or, if seized, are seen to be but the side turned 
 towards him, for the time being ; the opposite side,.
 
 PSYCHOLOGY. 61 
 
 although quite neglected in the shade, not being therefore 
 non-extant, but journeying on in its turn to the front, 
 there to be laid hold of in refutation by the next passing 
 observer. And thus it is that the solutions of the old 
 school of Metaphysicians have swallowed one another in 
 turn, revolving in endless monotony and in ever-returning 
 cycles, cloudy, shifting, and vague, without basis, an- 
 chorage, or advance. In this condition they have 
 remained, modified more or less in detail, perhaps, by 
 advancing Science, from the earliest times ; until at last 
 the advent of the Science of Biology, and the discovery of 
 the intimate and exact connexion between the Mind and 
 the Brain, gave to the Metaphysicians, as we have seen, a 
 fixed and certain point on which to stand, and from which 
 to take a new departure. And as this discovery worked 
 itself out into finer and finer detail, its profound effects, 
 not only on Religious Belief and Practical Life, but also on 
 -Speculative Thought, became more and more manifest. 
 In the practical region it has .enabled us to trace the 
 causes of those diseases of the nervous system which were 
 formerly believed to be due to spiritual agencies ; as,, for 
 example, when a man is suddenly stricken with paralysis, 
 or loses his power of speech, or is subject to spectral 
 illusions, to disturbances of sensation, or emotional sensi- 
 bility ; and by enabling us to refer these nervous affections 
 to their true causes, it has indirectly paved the way for 
 their rational treatment. Insanity, too, instead of being 
 regarded as the possession of the mind of the afflicted by 
 some cruel, malicious, or mocking spirit, was shown to be 
 due merely to functional or organic derangement of some 
 portion of the brain ; it lost, in consequence, in a great 
 measure its peculiarly obnoxious and uncanny associ- 
 ations, and was treated on the same principles as any 
 other bodily affliction. 
 
 So far for the action of Biology on Practical Life. On 
 Religious Belief its effects have been even more marked. 
 The sins and crimes of men, their unregulated passions
 
 6 2 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 and desires on the one hand, and on the other their 
 generous impulses, pious sentiments, and noble aspirations, 
 instead of being regarded as formerly as either whisperings 
 and instigations of the Devil, or inspirations of the Holy 
 Spirit, were seen to be the results of the normal activity 
 of the various parts of the brain, working under the 
 manifold stimuli and temptations of life according to their 
 proper laws. The old Scriptural accounts of how men 
 were possessed with devils, and of how these devils were 
 cast out by this or the other agency, were seen to be 
 sufficiently explicable as examples of some form of epilepsy 
 or other allied nervous disorder ; while the modern phe- 
 nomena so frequent in revival meetings, and especially 
 among the negro population when under great emotional 
 excitement, of men falling to the earth ' struck ' by what 
 the onlookers veritably believe to be the Holy Spirit, turn 
 out on examination to be nothing more than hysterical 
 seizures brought on by the extreme nerve-tension induced 
 by over-powerful religious appeals. But, besides these 
 deep incisions made into beliefs which fifty years ago were 
 bound up in the very existence of the faith, the biological 
 discovery of the connexion between the Brain and the 
 Mind has to a great extent solved the question in what 
 sense the Will is to be regarded as free, and in what sense 
 it is to be regarded as determined by inflexible necessity. 
 It has shown, too, that Mind, as we know it, is indissolubly 
 bound up with physical organization, and so has modified, 
 to a greater or less degree, the dogmas of predestination,, 
 original sin, moral responsibility, the future life, and the 
 like, according to the weight different thinkers will be 
 disposed to attach to such facts in their general theory of 
 the world. To the Materialist, these facts will seem 
 all-important; to the Idealist, who regards the Materialist 
 as looking at the world from between his legs, and thus 
 seeing all things inverted, they will not necessarily carry 
 the same weight. 
 
 Thus far the reader will observe that these modifications
 
 PSYCHOLOGY, 63: 
 
 of Religious Belief have been due rather to the scientific 
 facts brought to light by Biology, than to the analysis 
 based on these facts which constitutes the Science of 
 Psychology. The part played by the science of Psycho- 
 logy itself in advancing thought is, that by its analysis of 
 the Mind it has demonstrated a unity of plan throughout 
 the mental as well as the material world ; and so, as seen 
 in the Philosophy of Evolution, has modified the solutions- 
 hitherto given to the wider Problem of the World. And,, 
 furthermore, in passing, I desire to remark that although 
 Metaphysics and Psychology generally, in so far as they 
 deal in analysis of the mental faculties merely, can throw 
 no light on the concrete problems with which we propose 
 to deal, they have, nevertheless, in their very searchings at 
 the roots of our knowledge, like the alchemists of old, 
 struck on new discoveries of great value, true distinctions 
 where all had hitherto been lumped together in confusion. 
 These discoveries, which consisted not in analysis, but 
 in the recovery of original facts of the mind, are rather 
 the incidental disclosures of Metaphysics, than normal 
 results of its proper method; but when once brought to 
 light they may be made, like any other facts of Nature, the 
 bases of new views of the World and of Human Life ; and 
 as such, will appear when we come to the subject of 
 Religion, and the Laws of the Mind on which it is 
 constructed. 
 
 In the meantime it is worthy of note that the Psycho- 
 logist, who has superseded the old Metaphysician by 
 reason of his having based his results on the science of 
 Biology, has destroyed the real significance of his biolo- 
 gical facts in their relation to the greater Problem of the 
 World, by making Physical Science, which as an instrument 
 of investigation had proved so useful to him, his standpoint 
 of interpretation also. The secret fallacy that underlay this 
 fatal error was, in my opinion, the now exploded notion 
 that because the mental changes of thought and emotion 
 passing in our minds vary with the material changes
 
 6 4 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 going on in the brain, that therefore the changes in the 
 brain are the causes of the changes in the mind ; and 
 the deduction from this fallacious inference was, that if we 
 are to interpret the World aright, we must do it from the 
 standpoint of what we believe to be the cause the 
 material changes in the brain and not from the stand- 
 point of what is only an effect the mental phenomena 
 themselves. That is to say, we are to interpret it from 
 the point of view of Physical Science, not from the point 
 of view of the Mind itself. Now, it has recently been 
 over and over again shown that the physical movements 
 of the brain can, in no sense of the word cause, be the 
 cause of the mental phenomena which accompany them 
 neither in the scientific sense of the term cause, which 
 implies an equivalence between the antecedent and con- 
 sequent, nor yet in the real sense of the word, which 
 is derived from our experience of will, and therefore 
 involves a passage from a mental to a physical act, and 
 not, as in the case before us, a passage from a physical 
 to a mental. But this announcement came too late to 
 prevent the erection of those great systems of Material- 
 istic Philosophy, whose authors, nothing doubting, went 
 to work with Physical Science not only as their instru- 
 ment of investigation, which was legitimate, but as their 
 standpoint of interpretation, which was false and fatal. 
 For, the result of thus making Physical Science, with its 
 retort and scalpel, the standpoint of interpretation, is that 
 they have dropped out of the problem to be solved 
 the great Problem of the World and Human Life its two 
 most characteristic and essential elements the idea of 
 quality and the idea of cause. From the point of view of 
 Physical Science, a cause, as all scientists admit, can be 
 an antecedent only, nothing more, and the relation of 
 cause and effect, that of antecedent and consequent merely. 
 To get any other idea of cause you must abandon the 
 scientific standpoint. The true idea of cause, as these 
 very scientists themselves admit, is got from the ex-
 
 PSYCHOLOGY. 65 
 
 perience of our wills as opposed to the resistance of 
 objects about us. But this experience could never be got 
 from Physical Science, which can take cognizance only of 
 what can be seen or touched, but can only be known 
 from introspection that is to say, from the Mind itself. 
 In like manner, too, if we take Physical Science as our 
 standpoint for interpreting the World and Human Life, 
 and regard (as the Materialists do) the higher feelings of 
 the mind as but the compounding and re-compounding 
 of some primitive simple feeling, how can we get the 
 difference in qualify, which all feel and admit, between 
 a feeling of Selfishness and one of Self-denial, a feeling of 
 Honesty and one of Policy, a feeling of Fear and one of 
 Reverence, a feeling of Lust and one of Love ? Obviously 
 this difference of qualify, which can only be known to the 
 Mind, cannot be discovered by Physical Science. It is 
 got by introspection only that is to say, from the stand- 
 point of the Mind itself. Indeed, to carry out consistently 
 the interpretation of the World from the standpoint of 
 Physical Science, one would have to regard intellect, 
 virtue, and beauty, as mere forms of matter and motion 
 for if changes in the physical organ of the brain are the 
 bases of all the mental attributes, changes in matter and 
 motion again are the bases of changes in the brain and 
 thus that idea of qualify, which is most immediate to 
 men's lives and thoughts, would cease to exist. How 
 a thinker, who takes Physical Science as his standpoint 
 of interpretation, and from it desires to construct a Theory 
 of the World at all harmonious, adequate, and complete, 
 is reduced to extremities ; how he is compelled to shift the 
 standpoint he has taken up, and occasionally, as if for 
 life, to throw it overboard altogether, may be seen in the 
 following illustration with which I may fitly conclude 
 these few discursive remarks. It is taken from the First 
 Principles of Mr. Herbert Spencer, the book which is the 
 basis of his whole Philosophy, and which contains those 
 doctrines which distinguish it from all other forms of 
 
 F
 
 66 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 Positivism. In this work Mr. Herbert Spencer sets out 
 with the determination to give to Science and Religion 
 such a reconciliation as shall be at once convincing, 
 complete, and ultimate ; and to do this satisfactorily, his 
 object is to show that at bottom both Science and Religion 
 rest on one and the same ultimate fact or truth, and that 
 therefore in this truth they are harmonized and reconciled. 
 Accordingly, after a long and complicated analysis, he 
 brings both Religion and Science down to this ultimate 
 fact, which he calls ' the Persistence of Force,' or, as he 
 otherwise expresses it, the fact that the quantity of force 
 in the Universe continues fixed and constant. This is the 
 truth on which Religion rests, and, being also the truth on 
 which Science rests, it is, according to Mr. Spencer, the 
 truth in which they are reconciled. Now, when one 
 remembers that it is admitted on all hands (even Mr. 
 Spencer himself admits it) that Science deals with the 
 phenomenal world, the world of men and things whereas 
 Religion deals with that which lies behind the phenomenal 
 world, and of which the world of men and things are the 
 manifestations and passing shows, one will be prepared to 
 find a fallacy somewhere, and most probably that the 
 term ' Persistence of Force ' will have been so manipu- 
 lated that, instead of being used consistently throughout 
 to mean one thing, it will have been used indifferently 
 to mean two quite distinct things. And such, indeed, is 
 the case. In one half of the book, Mr. Spencer uses the 
 term ' persistence of force ' to express simply the sum- 
 total of forces in the natural world ; in the other half, he 
 uses it to express that which lies behind these forces, 
 which is the cause of them, and of which they are the 
 manifestations and effects ; and, like a skilful circus-rider, 
 he steps from one to the other indifferently as it suits his 
 purpose. A small but most significant circumstance in 
 regard to this is, that he writes ' persistence of force ' 
 with a small letter, when he means it to stand for the 
 sum-total of forces in Nature, but with a capital letter, as
 
 PSYCHOLOGY. 67 
 
 we should expect, when he means it to represent that 
 which lies behind Nature, and which corresponds, in a 
 way, to our idea of God. Science can rest on the ' per- 
 sistence of force' only in the sense in which the 
 persistence of force means that sum-total of forces in 
 the natural world which never varies in amount ; Religion 
 can rest on the 'Persistence of Force ' only in the sense 
 in which the term is used to mean the ever-present Cause 
 behind these forces. This fatal confusion in the use of 
 the term ' persistence of force ' is paralleled by an 
 equally fatal confusion in the use of the term ' cause.' 
 In its scientific sense, the 'persistence of force' can be a 
 cause only in so far as it is an antecedent, and in this 
 sense the cause of the phenomena of the world to-day 
 would lie in the phenomena of yesterday. But the 
 phenomena of the world to-day, Mr. Spencer says, are 
 the manifestations or effects of an Unknown. Cause, that 
 underlies alike the present, past, and future. That is to 
 say, every phenomenon has at the same time two different 
 causes, one which precedes it and another which underlies 
 it which is of course a palpable absurdity. In another 
 place Mr. Spencer has defined the 'persistence of force,' 
 when used to denote that of which the visible material 
 world is the effect, as ' an Infinite and Eternal Energy, by 
 which all things are created and sustained ; ' whereas he 
 had already defined it to be the truth that the quantity of 
 force in the Universe remains fixed and constant, that is 
 to say, is finite and definite, and the very reverse of 
 infinite.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 
 
 HAVING seen that neither History, Physical Science, 
 Metaphysics, nor Psychology can, by their methods or 
 subject-matter, throw light on the great problem of 
 Civilization with the varied play of Religion, Govern- 
 ment, and Material and Social Conditions which that 
 involves I now invite the reader to a brief consideration 
 of the new organon of truth announced by Cardinal 
 Newman in his Grammar of Assent, and set forth by him 
 in that work with an unusual abundance of illustration 
 and detail. This new organon or instrument of truth he 
 has called the ' Illative Sense.' But, as preliminary, and 
 by way of seeing better the full bearing of this organon on 
 the problems of life, it may be expedient perhaps to 
 consider for a moment the character of the author, and the 
 objects which by means of his new instrument he seeks to 
 realise. Born with a deep and pious nature, Newman's 
 youth fell on a time when the militant attitude and aggres- 
 sive criticisms of Science on the one hand, and the torpor 
 of the Established Church on the other, had begotten 
 a general scepticism among the cultivated, and among 
 the great masses, a deep and wide-spread indifference 
 to religious concerns. Possessed of that devout and more 
 or less ascetic spirit, which may go hand in hand equally 
 with intellectual gifts of the meanest or the highest order,.
 
 CARDINAL XEH'MAX. 69 
 
 ;a spirit which has always a tendency to subordinate the 
 merely cold and abstract truths of the reason, to the deep 
 longings of the heart for something on which, in this harsh 
 world, to repose in safety and loving trust, Newman's 
 thoughts as he grew to manhood naturally turned to 
 Religion to that Religion which, by its very nature, is the 
 haven of those homeless souls who are too gentle for the 
 rude jostlings of this rough world, too elevated for its 
 basenesses, or too refined for its coarse and unsatisfying 
 pleasures. He entered the Church, but once within its 
 bosom, his ardent though gentle spirit could not rest 
 until he had kindled such a fire in its inmost vitals, as 
 roused it from the torpor in which it had lain for ages, 
 and waked into burning antagonism those heterogeneous 
 elements within its own body, which in the general torpor 
 had long slept side by side in peaceful and indolent repose. 
 As the flames of controversy thus aroused waxed hotter 
 and hotter, and the doctrines of the Established Church 
 were laid bare to the core, and tried as if in a furnace 
 seven times heated, his subtle and commanding intellect 
 could not find satisfaction in doctrines and rituals which, 
 .although resting on and flowing from principles which his 
 heart avowed, were nevertheless heterogeneous and in- 
 consistent among themselves. And the more the anomalous 
 character of the Church disclosed itself, the more insecure 
 did he feel its basis to be, until at last, to get rest for his 
 spirit, he was compelled to turn away for ever from this 
 composite mass of inconsistency, and to enter the fold of 
 that ancient Romish Church, which, in theory at least, was 
 yesterday and forever the same. Having found, at last, 
 that complete and perfect rest for which he had sighed 
 during his long and anxious wanderings, his first concern, 
 after justifying himself to the world, was to try and lead 
 others who, like himself, were tempest-tossed on a sea 
 -of doubts and perplexities, into that haven of refuge which 
 Tie had found for himself. But as his work went on, he 
 began more and more clearly to perceive that before he
 
 jo A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 could demonstrate with effect the superior authority of 
 the Church of Rome over all other Churches, and of the 
 Christian Religion over all other Religions, he must, as 
 preliminary, humble the pretensions of that new-born and 
 aggressive Physical Science, which was the sworn foe of 
 all Supernaturalisms, and which was working its fell effects 
 on all religions alike. Accordingly, in his Grammar of 
 Assent, his first object is to get rid of Science as an instru- 
 ment of the highest truth ; and this being done to replace 
 it by an instrument of his own, which shall command 
 men's full conviction and assent, and will enable them to- 
 decide, among other things, between the conflicting claims 
 of the different religions Catholicism, Protestantism,. 
 Mahomedanism, and the rest which lay claim to supreme 
 authority over the thoughts and consciences of men ; and 
 this instrument he calls the ' Illative Sense.' Now, to 
 break the authority of Science the root of all scepticism 
 at all formidable it was necessary to show that its main 
 axiom the uniformity of the laws of Nature is at bottom 
 only an inference of greater or less probability, not a 
 certainty; and that therefore Science cannot carry with 
 it that deep assent and conviction which many other 
 things and among them Religion are capable of pro- 
 ducing. And accordingly, after the most formidable pre- 
 paration, Newman sets himself to accomplish this feat 
 with all the ingenuity, subtlety, and logical intrepidity of 
 those schoolmen of the Middle Ages, of whom he is the 
 legitimate descendant. 
 
 In his Essay on the Hitman Understanding, Locke had 
 contended that the degree of credence or assent we 
 give to any proposition, is in proportion to the weight of 
 the evidence by which it is supported ; and therefore that 
 any fact, the evidence for which was full and complete (as,. 
 for example, a law of Nature), must command our unre- 
 served and unqualified assent. Not so, replied Newman ; 
 what you call a full and unreserved assent is only, when 
 looked into, an inference of a greater or less degree of
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 7 r 
 
 probability, not an assent. There can be no degrees in 
 assent ; it is a mental act complete and all-sufficient in 
 itself. Assent to be assent must be the full and unreserved 
 acquiescence of the whole 'mind in the truth of a propo- 
 sition, and as such can of course admit of no degrees. 
 To admit of degrees, a belief can only be an inference, and 
 therefore can inspire us with the feeling only of greater or 
 less probability, never of certainty. Now, the belief we 
 have in the uniformity and invariability of the Laws of 
 Nature, Newman contends, is an inference only; an in- 
 ference of high probability, it is true, but one which can 
 never amount to certainty, and therefore never can 
 command a full, unreserved, and unconditional assent. 
 That the sun will rise to-morrow morning is most probable, 
 but it can never amount to an absolute certainty, for there 
 is no reason, he contends, why, because it has always 
 risen, it will always continue to rise. Nor is there any 
 reason why, because stones thrown into the air have 
 always fallen, they will always continue to fall ; or that fire, 
 which has always burned men, should always continue to 
 burn them. That is to say, there is no necessary certainty 
 in the uniformity of the Laws of Nature, and therefore 
 there can be no unreserved assent of men to the affirma- 
 tion of their uniformity. But if the uniformity of the 
 Laws of Nature, although supported by a superabundance 
 of evidence, can never amount to a certainty, and cannot 
 therefore command our unconditional assent, there are 
 many other facts or propositions, Newman contends, to 
 which we can give an unconditional assent, even when the 
 reasons that can be formulated in their favour would be 
 quite insufficient to produce assent in other minds. The 
 belief of a child, for example, in the knowledge of its 
 parents, or its faith in their love and virtue ; the belief of 
 the youth in the judgment and infallibility of his teachers 
 and masters ; the belief of many people in the medical 
 man who attends them ; the belief we have in the integrity 
 of men of whom perhaps we have seen but little ; our
 
 7 2 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 belief in the recorded and accredited facts of history, in 
 certain religious dogmas, perhaps, in which we have been 
 brought up, or which seem to satisfy the natural longings 
 and affinities of the heart, are all instances of that full and 
 unreserved assent the mind gives to things or propositions 
 for which full and adequate reasons perhaps cannot be 
 adduced. In a word then, while to the uniformity of the 
 Laws of Nature we can at most attach only a high degree 
 of probability, there are certain concrete facts of life, of 
 history, and of religion, to which we can yield a full and 
 unreserved assent. And the conclusion to be drawn 
 from this, according to Newman, is, that the doctrine of 
 the uniformity of the Laws of Nature must give way to 
 those facts and doctrines of Religion of which we have 
 full certainty ; and Science, which deals with the Laws of 
 Nature, must give way to Religion, which deals with these 
 facts and doctrines. In other words, the authority of 
 Science over the intellect, heart, and conscience of man, 
 must yield to the authority of Religion. 
 
 In this way Cardinal Newman gets rid of Science the 
 great antagonist of Religion, and the main obstacle to the 
 reception of its teachings. In doing so, he leaves Religion 
 once more secure on its own basis, and it now only re- 
 mains with him to decide between the various concrete 
 Religions or Churches that lay claim to supreme authority 
 over the hearts and consciences of men. But the question 
 is, how is this to be done, how determine which is the true 
 religion ? Having thrown out Science, as unable to give 
 to her laws more than a high probability, Newman is 
 obliged to cast about him for some instrument of truth 
 that will command full assent and certainty, and that will 
 enable him to decide between the rival claims of different 
 Churches and Religions. This instrument he finds in 
 what he calls the ' Illative Sense.' It is by this sense, he 
 declares, that the truth in all concrete matters is to be 
 determined, and as, unlike Science, it can give us that 
 absolute certainty to which we can give full and unreserved
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 73 
 
 assent, it is the instrument by which we are enabled to 
 determine which is the true Religion. The reason why, 
 after having discarded Science, Newman turns to Religion 
 is, that, besides Science, it is the only thing that claims 
 authority over men's whole nature. The next question, 
 therefore, is, which of the various concrete Religions or 
 Churches, claiming a supernatural origin, is the true one? 
 and this, according to Newman, is to be determined, like 
 all other concrete things, by the ' illative sense.' Now, 
 by the 'illative sense' he means that sense by which certain 
 individuals are enabled to reach truths, to perform feats, 
 to judge between conflicting evidence or opinions (the 
 results justifying their conclusions as the right, the best, 
 the true), by a method which is either altogether inscrut- 
 able, or can only be partially explained. When a great 
 billiard-player, for example, compiles a heavy score under 
 most unpromising circumstances, he does so by means of 
 .a power more or less inexplicable to the ordinary by- 
 stander, that is to say, by what Newman calls the ' illative 
 sense.' When the skilled physician detects the true nature 
 of a patient's malady under the most complicated symp- 
 toms, by minute and perhaps evanescent signs, not to be 
 formulated, he does so by means of an art beyond the 
 reach of formal logic, which Newman calls the ' illative 
 sense.' When the eye of a Napoleon sees at a glance 
 amid all the complexities of a battle-field the numbers 
 and disposition of the enemy, the peculiarity of the 
 ground, the tactics of generals, their talents, their foibles, 
 and the like where and how to strike so as to win the 
 day, he does so by that ' illative sense' which is beyond the 
 reach of merely abstract knowledge. When the skilful 
 pleader sees from the character of his brief, the prejudices 
 of the jury, the pedantries of the judge, how to make such 
 a presentation of his case as shall win the verdict for his 
 client, he does it by a power which cannot be included 
 under general rules, and which may be called the ' illative 
 sense.' When the detective tracks his victim, like a sleuth-
 
 74 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 hound, through all the mazes and windings of pursuit, by 
 means of a clue apparently the most slender and unsub- 
 stantial, he does it by an art beyond the reach of 
 instruction by the 'illative sense.' In the same way, 
 when an artist composes a landscape like Turner, a poem 
 like Shelley, an oratorio like Handel, when he forms 
 himself into a model of gentlemanly deportment like 
 Chesterfield, or when, like Ruskin, he discloses beauties 
 of flower or landscape which escape the common eye, he 
 does it by that incommunicable something which we call 
 genius, but which Newman would term the ' illative sense.' 
 In like manner, too, according to him, there is no test of 
 truth in matters relating to the concrete facts of History, 
 Science, Research, and Theology', like that furnished by 
 the cultivated ' illative sense.' To know what you are to- 
 believe as to the value of ancient documents, or the 
 credibility of certain historical facts, you must go to the 
 trained 'illative sense' of men like Mommsen or Niebuhr. 
 Even in Science itself, you must go for the adumbration 
 of new discoveries, and for knowing where and how to 
 look for some new law, to the trained but more or less 
 intuitive and unconscious ' illative sense ' of a Newton, a 
 Faraday, or a Darwin. And lastly, and this is the im- 
 portant point, to determine which is the true Religion 
 among the many that to-day lay claim to supreme 
 authority over men's lives and opinions, you must go to 
 the man of cultivated ' illative sense ' in this department of 
 thought ; who, after imbuing himself with the history of 
 these various religions their triumphs, their vicissitudes, 
 their reverses, their capacity to satisfy the wants and 
 aspirations of the human intellect and heart, their moral 
 injunctions and prescriptions, their power to mould 
 society, and advance civilization shall, by a kind of 
 intellectual and spiritual tasting, try them and decide 
 whether they be of God or no. Now, as the less finely- 
 endowed can have no means of knowing the truth for 
 themselves in any large department of life or thought,
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 75 
 
 except in so far as they yield up their judgment, their full 
 and unreserved assent, to those who have the special 
 genius or ' illative sense ' required, it follows that Authority, 
 as such, is the sole, the ultimate principle in religious, 
 practical, and speculative life. And furthermore, Science 
 having been thrown out as uncertain, unreliable, and 
 incapable of commanding for its laws that full and un- 
 qualified assent which other things can command, it 
 follows that more authority belongs to the mother who 
 feeds you and in whom you absolutely confide, than to. 
 the scientific demonstration that the food is unfit for you ; 
 to the teacher who discourses to you on the beauties of 
 mediaeval astronomy, than to the law of gravitation and 
 the scientific proof that the earth revolves around the sun ; 
 to the old and confidential physician who has always 
 attended you, than to the new scientific discovery which 
 reverses his whole mode of treatment ; to the individual 
 or Church that announces a new miracle, than to the 
 scientific analysis which exposes it, or the scientific proof 
 which demonstrates its impossibility. And the author of 
 the Grammar of Assent himself, having tasted with his 
 undeniably fine 'illative sense' the various religions of the 
 world, and come to a decision, gives notice in this book 
 that the Church of Rome is the voice of truth, to which, 
 he having given his assent, the world on the principle of 
 Authority is justified through him in giving its assent 
 also. 
 
 The above is a rough outline of Cardinal Newman's 
 doctrine of ' assent,' and of that ' illative sense ' by which 
 he would replace and supersede Science as an organon or 
 instrument of the highest truth. When thus plainly 
 stated, its weakness and absurdity seem, to me at least, so 
 palpable, that I should have passed it by unheeded, but 
 for the great ability and eminence of the author, and the 
 influence he exercises on all hands over men outside the 
 Roman Catholic Communion men who although very 
 glad of his assistance in beating off the atheist and infidel,
 
 76 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 nevertheless feel obliged, I have noticed, to stop short and 
 draw the line at the winking Madonnas, the liquefaction 
 of the blood of St. Januarius, the miraculous cures at 
 Lourdes, and other supernatural interventions of the 
 present day, to which the Cardinal, with truer logic, feels no 
 difficulty in giving his full and unqualified assent. In 
 attempting, then, to give a brief and formal refutation of 
 his doctrines, the simplest course, perhaps, will be to con- 
 centrate attention on the two great cardinal points on 
 which his whole scheme rests. 
 
 His first great doctrine is that the uniformity of the 
 laws of Nature, which is the basis of Science, cannot 
 command our full and unqualified assent, and therefore 
 must give way when confronted with facts and doctrines, 
 historical or religious, to which we can give that un- 
 qualified assent. Now I propose to give this the direct 
 negative, and to show that all facts and doctrines what- 
 ever, religious or other, must give way, when confronted 
 with those laws of Nature which Science has established, 
 and that to the uniformity of these laws alone can we give 
 a full, unreserved, and legitimate assent, in the face of 
 alleged facts and doctrines opposing it. In saying a 
 legitimate assent, I thereby imply that there are many 
 real assents which are not reasonable or legitimate. By 
 this I mean that they spring out of elements which, if 
 exposed, would be at once discarded, as weakening rather 
 than strengthening the weight that is to be attached to 
 the act of assent. To this class belong many referred to 
 by Newman, as establishing the high importance of the 
 act of assent in the search for truth. A child, for example, 
 may have the completest faith in the knowledge, virtue, and 
 judgment of his parents, and would give his unqualified 
 assent to propositions embodying that, faith, when 
 notoriously to all the world besides the fact is quite other- 
 wise. In cases of this kind it is evident that the fact of 
 assent is no evidence of the truth of the proposition. In 
 the same way the genuine assent given by their devotees
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 
 
 77 
 
 to the thousand and one sects into which Christianity and 
 other religions are divided, in so far as it is the result of 
 mere tradition, which it is in so many cases each 
 individual giving his assent on the authority of his father 
 who went before him will not by most reasonable persons 
 in this nineteenth century be held to lend much weight to 
 the doctrines believed, or virtue and importance to the 
 act of assent. The common case, again, of young men 
 giving a full and unqualified submission and assent to the 
 teachings of masters and professors, whose attainments 
 and judgment they will see a few years afterwards to have 
 been of the most stunted and limited nature, is another 
 instance of assent not calculated to impress us with its- 
 value as an indication of truth. Again the common 
 experience of most medical men of the unbounded 
 confidence often reposed in their knowledge and judgment 
 by one or other of their patients, when the limitations of 
 that knowledge are only too patent to themselves or 
 others, is not likely to increase our respect for the act of 
 assent as such. And lastly, the not uncommon instance 
 of innocent maidens falling in love with clever but 
 unscrupulous scoundrels, in whose honour and integrity 
 they are all the while placing the most implicit faith, a 
 confidence not as a rule justified by the event, is not an 
 act of assent likely to be appealed to by the friends of the 
 victim, in justification of its value in the search for truth. 
 The above are all instances of assent in the meaning of 
 the term as used by Cardinal Newman, and as opposed 
 to what he calls scientific inference. With most readers 
 we may safely predict that, instead of demonstrating the 
 superior importance of the act of assent over scientific 
 inference as an indication of truth, they will have precisely 
 the opposite effect. Indeed had he no more pregnant 
 instances of the value of assent than such as these, his 
 case would be a hopeless one. But he does give us 
 instances of assent where, although the reasons for the 
 assent cannot be formulated or completely stated, the
 
 7 8 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 result nevertheless justifies the truth of the judgment to 
 which the assent was given. Among others he speaks of 
 the assent we often give to the integrity of character of 
 friends, casual acquaintances, or even strangers ; of our 
 unshaken confidence in them even in the teeth of ugly 
 imputations based on evidence not easily gainsaid ; and 
 of the final justification of our confidence even when the 
 reasons alleged for that confidence would not be felt 
 sufficient to justify it in others' minds. Now waiving for a 
 moment the equally common fact that in actual life men 
 are as often deceived in the assent they give to their 
 friend's virtue, as the world is in the overt acts alleged 
 against him, we may say, that in any case where the 
 assent is justified by the facts, it is because we have seen 
 or felt by a species of intuition which is only a finer 
 form of seeing so deeply into the central law of our 
 friend's nature, that we would back our insight against 
 any superficial appearances to the contrary ; which is only 
 saying that our assent is based on a just insight into the 
 Laws of the Mind (even although the subtle indications on 
 which we grounded our belief cannot be roughly formu- 
 lated), and therefore is a legitimate scientific inference, 
 rather than a blind, unreasoning, unconditional assent. 
 The assent again which we give to the truth of certain 
 historical facts as the murder of Julius Caesar for example 
 which are generally accepted, is quite legitimate, 
 because there is no reason in human nature or the 
 experience of life why we should not credit them. That 
 assent of this kind is only at bottom an inference of a 
 greater or less degree of probability, would be seen if any 
 just and weighty reasons could be adduced against the 
 assumed fact, for we should then find that our assent 
 would be seriously weakened or reversed. Of the same 
 nature as the last is the assent given to scientific calcula- 
 tions, predictions, or conclusions, which we have not 
 ourselves verified, and could not perhaps, for want of the 
 necessary knowledge, verify if we wished. In these cases,
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 79 
 
 too, we give our assent because there is no reason for 
 doubting the calculations, but rather every reason as the 
 world goes for believing in their truth. 
 
 And thus in analysing the various kinds of Assent, we 
 find them divisible into three categories. The first 
 includes cases of ignorance and inexperience, as the belief 
 of children and young people in the unbounded knowledge 
 and unerring judgment of their parents and teachers ; of 
 tradition, as the adherence of the great masses to the 
 religion in which they happened to be brought up ; of 
 strong feeling, as the trust of innocent maidens in 
 scoundrels, or of stock-brokers and the public in the 
 news which has produced a panic ; of desire, and the love 
 of sympathy, as the credulity on which the flatterer relies, 
 .and the like. These are all instances of assent which 
 weaken the value of the act of assent as an index of truth. 
 The second class of assents are those given to historical, 
 personal, or other alleged facts, which do not run counter 
 to any law of the world or of human life such for example 
 .as the murder of Caesar, or the report that a certain 
 person died by committing suicide and which we have no 
 reason to doubt. The last class are those where our 
 assent as for example to a person's integrity although 
 .given on slender external grounds, is justified by circum- 
 stances and results, but where that assent when analysed 
 w r ill be seen to have rested on deep internal grounds of 
 insight into character, and therefore to be rather a legiti- 
 mate act of scientific inference, than a blind unreasoning 
 assent. And thus the conclusion we have arrived at 
 is, that the act of assent, although indispensable for action, 
 is useless as an index of truth ; that when it turns out 
 true because it is founded on a scientific insight into 
 Nature, the World, or the Human Mind, it loses its value 
 as mere Assent, and is of value only as Science; whereas, 
 when it is not founded on Science, whether it happens in 
 the individual instance to turn out true or false, it is worth- 
 less or worse than worthless as an indication of truth.
 
 8o A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 Having shown the worthlessness of the mere act of 
 Assent as an index of truth, I now go farther, and remark 
 that a law of Nature once announced by Science, it is a 
 necessity of thought that we should give to its uniformity 
 and invariability our full and unqualified assent, in the face 
 of all alleged facts or religious doctrines whatever opposed 
 to it.' In those laws that are simple and free from 
 obscuring complications, this necessary character of assent 
 is at once apparent. To what religious doctrine or 
 historical incident, for example, could we give our assent 
 so absolutely and unreservedly, as to the belief that if 
 we put our hand in the fire it will be burnt, although 
 Cardinal Newman would call this a scientific inference 
 only of greater or less probability ? Put any man, saint or 
 sinner, on the edge of a precipice, and threaten to push 
 him over, and you will soon discover whether his assent 
 to the uniformity and invariability of the law of gravitation 
 is a mere scientific inference of greater or less probability 
 only, or a dead certainty admitting of no degrees. Of 
 course where the proof of a law of Nature is involved, and 
 only familiar to experts, a greater or less degree of 
 probability only may be attached to it by the ignorant, 
 but that can only be because they are unacquainted with 
 the nature of scientific proof. That the sun will rise to- 
 morrow may be only a probability to those who do not 
 know the evidence on which it rests, but to those who do, 
 it will command an assent as complete and absolute as the 
 fact that fire will burn them. In like manner the calcula- 
 tion of eclipses being known only to mathematicians, the 
 prediction of any particular eclipse may be received with 
 more or less incredulity by the ignorant, but it will be 
 only because they are ignorant. The fact is that when 
 once Science, by its exact processes of observation, experi- 
 ment, and verification, has convinced itself of the truth of 
 an alleged law of Nature, the uniformity and invariability 
 of that law in all time, present, past, or future, is a necessity 
 of thought to which the most absolute assent must be
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 81 
 
 given, whether it be a simple law, as that fire will burn or 
 a stone will fall, or one reached after complex calculations, 
 as the prediction of eclipses and the like. The reason 
 why the uniformity and invariability of the laws of Nature 
 is a necessity of thought to which we must give an 
 absolute and unreserved assent is, that to doubt it, or 
 deny it, would involve the assertion that something might 
 become nothing, or become something else without a cause, 
 which is to deny the Persistence of Force ; and is a 
 proposition that could be entertained only by the complete 
 disruption of our intelligence itself, which proceeds on the 
 assumption that a pound to-day must weigh a pound to- 
 morrow, else we could be sure of nothing, we could 
 predict nothing, we could infer nothing, we could prove 
 nothing in present, past, or future. The billiard-player 
 could not be sure of the momentum of his balls, or the 
 angles they would make with each other ; the general 
 could not depend on his ammunition, the distance it 
 would carry, or the disposition and tactics of the enemy ; 
 the doctor could not rely on the same symptoms having 
 the same meaning twice together ; the detective or man 
 of the world could not rely on the same expression 
 meaning the same character. But enough of this, which 
 must be so patent to every school-boy of to-day, that to 
 seriously argue as if it could be doubted is but to throw 
 incense to ignorance, superstition, and conceit. 
 
 I come now to the second point, which, after all, is the 
 main object of the chapter viz., to show that the ' Illative 
 Sense,' by which Cardinal Newman would replace Science 
 as an organon of truth, is at bottom only another name 
 for what we call Art, that is to say, Applied Science, and 
 therefore can have no more authority than that same 
 Science which is its essence, but which it professes to 
 supersede and ignore. 
 
 Having thrown out Science, and the abstract laws of 
 Nature which it discloses, nothing can remain to Newman, 
 as a source of authority over men's minds and consciences, 
 
 G
 
 82 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 but some one or other of the concrete Religions to be found 
 in the world, and his object is to find some organon or 
 instrument of knowledge by which the choice between 
 these various conflicting Religions is to be determined. It 
 cannot be Science, for that he has already thrown out as 
 being able to claim for its laws only a greater or less 
 degree of probability, and therefore not to be reposed on 
 as a certainty. Besides, Science aims at decomposing 
 concrete things into the laws of different kinds which go 
 to make them up. Man, for example, is a concrete object, 
 and the aim of Science is to separate out as far as possible 
 the various mechanical, chemical, physical, biological, and 
 psychological laws, which, when united in their entirety, 
 make up his personality. But what Cardinal Newman 
 wants, is some instrument or faculty that will deal with 
 these concrete things in their entirety. Now, one would 
 naturally suppose that concrete things being merely a 
 bundle of laws of different kinds, the knowledge required 
 to understand them, and deal with them, would be 
 the knowledge of these different kinds of laws. But that 
 would only be a knowledge of the corresponding sciences, 
 and these sciences Newman has already discarded. 
 What then can the organon be ? To say directly that it 
 is Art, would only be to say that it is Applied Science, 
 and that he cannot do, so he gives it a neutral and non- 
 suggestive title the ' Illative Sense.' But if we analyse 
 the examples we have already given of the 'illative sense,' 
 we shall find that it is nothing more or less than what we 
 call Art, or Science applied. The billiard-player who can 
 compile a heavy score under difficulties, does it by Art, 
 that is to say, by the skilful application of the conjoined 
 Sciences of angles, weights, momenta, and the like (by 
 him implicitly known although not explicitly formulated) 
 to different positions of the balls ; attention to the laws 
 of each of these sciences being necessary to the result, and 
 a weakness in regard to any one of them at once vitiating 
 the play. The doctor who detects the nature of disease
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 83 
 
 by a kind of intuition, does it by Art, i.e., by the applica- 
 tion of the known Science of disease, together with the 
 finer experience of the connexion between signs and 
 internal conditions, to the particular case in hand. The 
 general who overpowers or outwits his adversary and wins 
 the battle, does so by Art by the application of the 
 physical and mechanical Sciences involved in the imple- 
 ments of war, the science of the movements of men in 
 mass, and the science of human nature involved in 
 realizing to himself what his opponent is likely to do 
 under given circumstances. The inventor, too, who 
 invents the steam-engine, for example, does so by Art 
 by the application of the Science of physics, mechanics, 
 chemistry, and the like, to certain raw materials, as iron, 
 steel, &c., of which he has a knowledge, for a given end. 
 The pleader at the bar, who gets a prisoner off under 
 unpromising circumstances, does so by Art by bringing to 
 bear on the foibles of the judge, and the prejudices of the 
 jury, a knowledge of the laws of human nature, of the 
 laws of evidence, and the like. In like manner, too, 
 Poetry, Music, Art, are but applications to particular 
 themes of laws of the spiritual and aesthetic parts of 
 man's nature, together with the laws of sound, colour, 
 harmony, rhythm, and the like. The fact that many of 
 these laws cannot be adequately formulated, does not 
 prove that they are not laws ; that is to say, Science, but 
 only that they cannot be adequately expressed in language, 
 which for the most part is framed to convey the rougher 
 perceptions of men. That they are laws is seen in the 
 fact that the violation of any one of them would be 
 instantly detected in the result. So that when a man, by 
 reason of his finer talents, is able to do things that others 
 cannot do, or discover truths that others could not 
 perceive, he does it by means of the greater number, 
 complexity, and variety of Scientific Laws, of which, either 
 by greater labour or finer sensibilities, he has become 
 the master. But if further proof were wanted that
 
 84 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 Science or the laws of different orders of facts of all 
 degrees of fineness and quality is the very essence of 
 the ' illative sense,' it would be found in the fact that the 
 same natural ability two hundred years ago, say, could not 
 perform as great achievements, make as fine predictions, 
 or form as sound judgments, as it can to-day ; and that 
 simply because laws of Nature have been discovered since 
 which were unknown then. Poetry, Art, Music, Acting, 
 the art of pleading, and the like, depending as they do on 
 laws of human life, and perception of form, colour, 
 harmony, and the like, more or less the same in all ages,, 
 would not be expected to show the same advance, if indeed 
 they advanced at all. Neither would wrestling, boating,, 
 cricket, billiards, and other games of skill, involving simple 
 laws of physics and motion, known as well in ancient 
 Greece as in the Europe of to-day. But the progressive 
 arts, the arts of knowledge, advance by reason of the 
 Science that is in them, varying with the amount of this 
 scientific knowledge, and not with the natural ability of 
 the experts, which we may admit to have been as fine 
 centuries ago as now. What ' illative sense,' for example,, 
 would have enabled Adams or Leverrier to know where to- 
 look for a new planet, if the Law of Gravitation had not 
 been already discovered ? No physician, however great 
 his natural ability, could possibly detect diseases twa 
 hundred years ago which are recognised at a glance by 
 the veriest medical tyro of to-day. And why ? Simply 
 because the Science of Medicine has made such strides 
 since then. What could the natural talents and tactics- 
 of a Caesar or Alexander avail, with the old weapons 
 and methods, against the scientific warfare of modern 
 Europe ? And yet it is not that genius has improved, but 
 that Science has advanced. What chance could there 
 have been of Newton inventing the telephone, or perfect- 
 ing electric lighting, at a time when the laws of electricity 
 were not yet discovered ? Again, what hope could there 
 be of the genius of a Niebuhr finding out the truth about
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. 85 
 
 Rome or Egypt, before the discovery of monuments, and 
 interpretation of hieroglyphics, enabled men to interpret 
 documents and relics otherwise dark and forever inscrut- 
 able ? And lastly, what a different judgment men would 
 form on theology, miracles, and schemes of redemption, 
 at a time when from the state of Science these things 
 could not seem incredible, to now, when the discoveries of 
 Science have rendered many or the most of them abso- 
 lutely impossible of belief. 
 
 And so Cardinal Newman, having thrown out Science at 
 the beginning of his book on account of the havoc it was 
 making with Religious Creeds, and all forms of Super- 
 naturalism, is obliged to bring it back again at the end, 
 disguised as the ' Illative Sense.' Indeed, that a man of 
 Cardinal Newman's immense intellectual powers should in 
 this nineteenth century dream that there can be any 
 organon of truth but Science, Physical, and Mental 
 which is only organized experience of all kinds is only 
 another instance of how the pure intellect is deflected from 
 the truth by the longings and desires of the heart.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE NEW ORGANON. 
 
 THE subject of this work, as I have already said, is 
 Civilization and Progress in their widest aspects in a 
 general way, the end to which Humanity is advancing, 
 and the parts played respectively by Religion, Govern- 
 ment, and Material and Social Conditions respectively,, 
 in that advance ; and more specially, the motor power 
 which necessitates alike Civilization and Progress; the 
 aim of Nature ; the goal of Government ; the Laws of the 
 Mind on which Religions are constructed and along which 
 they are evolved ; the part played by Religion in human 
 life ; the effects of different forms of Government on 
 mental and moral expansion ; and lastly, an analysis 
 of the various factors, and an exhibition, not only of their 
 statical relations to each other, but of their dynamical 
 relations of the way in which they act and interact as 
 they roll on together in a mingled stream down the 
 course of History. I have therefore deemed it expedient, 
 before considering the New Organon which I shall use in 
 attempting to solve these important problems, to revert 
 for a moment to the various recognised instruments of 
 knowledge which we have just been considering, and to 
 recapitulate briefly the reasons why each of these was 
 found unsuitable for my purpose, as in this way I shall 
 exhibit more clearly, perhaps, the necessity there is for
 
 THE NEW ORGANON. 87 
 
 some New Organon for these higher problems, and at the 
 same time shall, by the very process of exclusion, have 
 guided the reader to where it is to be found. 
 
 There was first the large and interesting department of 
 History, including the ordinary narrative and descriptive 
 works of the schools ; the philosophico-descriptive works 
 of the great classical historians, as Gibbon, Hume, 
 Macaulay, Grote ; and the purely philosophical works of 
 the Sociologists, as Montesquieu, Buckle, and Comte ; and 
 all these we were obliged to discard as instruments or 
 intellectual standpoints, because, instead of throwing light 
 on the Present, they derived all their credibility and value 
 from the Present. In the narrative and descriptive forms 
 the incidents are credible, and have the force of facts only 
 in so far as we can realise them to be true from our 
 insight into To-day. In those forms, where the narrative 
 of events is woven into a consistent web and sequence 
 by philosophical interpretations of cause and motive, the 
 account is credible only in so far as we can realise that the 
 like cause and the like motives would give rise to the like 
 results To-day. And finally, in those purely philosophical 
 forms, where all particular circumstances, motives, causes, 
 and events, are thrust into the background, and where 
 attention is fixed only on great general results, and the 
 great general causes at work to produce them, the 
 account is satisfactory only in so far as we can believe 
 that effects, so many-sided and complex as those of the 
 different periods of civilization, could be produced under 
 like circumstances To-day, by. the various laws or principles 
 to which, by the different thinkers, they have been referred. 
 
 History being thus set aside, and the Past discarded, as 
 a standpoint from which to interpret the Present its 
 main use being as illustration, appendage, or corroboration 
 of great principles drawn from insight into To-day we 
 passed on to the other recognised instruments of know- 
 ledge, and found that, like History, they too were not 
 what was wanted for our purpose. The Physical Sciences,
 
 88 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 with their methods of external observation and experi- 
 ment, we were obliged to discard because they deal 
 entirely with the phenomena and laws of Matter, whereas 
 our subject is Civilization and the phenomena and laws of 
 Mind, as seen in the changes passed through by Religion, 
 Morality, principles of Government, Ideas, and habits of 
 thought. Political Economy, too, we discarded, because it 
 concerned itself entirely with the material laws that 
 regulate the production and distribution of wealth ; 
 whereas, in the chapters on Politics and Government, I 
 attempt the quite different problem of tracing the effects 
 of such production and distribution on the mental and 
 moral expansion of the individual and of society generally ; 
 a matter which has entirely to do with mental laws. 
 Metaphysics, again, we discarded, because it splits the 
 mind into separate faculties, isolates these faculties, and 
 cuts them off from their organic connections with each 
 other, and then proceeds to decompose them into their 
 original elements ; whereas, the problem of Civilization is 
 concerned with man only in his totality as a concrete 
 entity ; that is to say, is concerned with the laws that 
 unite these separate parts or faculties together. For if I 
 cannot get directly at the explanation of, say, a particular 
 belief, I must do so indirectly by means of some law 
 connecting it with what I know, as, for example, a stage 
 of thought. So that, in attempting to solve the problem 
 of Civilization, instead of dealing with the faculties of 
 man's nature when isolated and kept apart, as in Meta- 
 physics, we have to deal with the laws that unite these 
 faculties and powers; the laws, for example, that unite 
 sentiment with knowledge, knowledge with passion or 
 desire, passion or desire with belief, and the like : so that 
 from a change in men's Material Conditions you shall be 
 able to predict a corresponding change in their Social 
 Relations ; from their Social Relations a corresponding 
 change in their Moral ; or shall know how a change in 
 Knowledge, for example, will affect Religion ; or a change
 
 THE NEW ORGAN ON. 89 
 
 in Religion, men's Moral and Social Relations, and so on. 
 Scientific Psychology, too, although it has the advantage 
 over Metaphysics (inasmuch as by the assistance it 
 derives from Biology it is enabled to analyse more 
 successfully the separate faculties and ' powers of the 
 mind), we were obliged to discard, because, like Meta- 
 physics, it deals only with isolated faculties with the 
 Partial man ; whereas Civilization deals with the faculties 
 united with the whole man. Nor could that aspect of 
 Psychology which, resting on the science of Biology, 
 forms part of the science of Medicine, help us, for it deals 
 purely with morbid conditions of the brain and nervous' 
 system, and in consequence with the mind in a state of 
 disease only ; whereas, the problem of Civilization assumes 
 that men's minds are sane and healthy. And lastly, on 
 examining the ' illative sense ' of Cardinal Newman, we 
 found it to be only another name for Art, that is to say, 
 Science applied; and to have in consequence no more 
 validity or virtue than the various sciences that in its 
 different forms are involved in it. 
 
 And thus the various recognised instruments of know- 
 ledge having either been discarded altogether as useless 
 for our purpose, or, like History, degraded into a sub- 
 ordinate position, the reader will be prepared by the 
 process of exclusion to find that the New Organon which 
 I propose to use for the solution of the higher problems of 
 Civilization, is no other than the Laws of the Human Mind in 
 its entirety, as a concrete entity those laws which, as we have 
 seen, find no place in the recognised circle of the sciences. 
 And so indeed it is. By this organon we get truths which 
 (as human nature is the same in all ages), hold equally 
 in present, past, or future, and so degrade History into 
 mere illustration or commentary ; we deal with tendencies, 
 the knowledge of which is of use both for judgment and 
 for action; unlike Metaphysics, which deals with particles 
 or abstractions that can neither build up knowledge nor 
 impel to action, and which ends in mere analysis.
 
 9 o A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 Now, in calling this a New Organon, I do not profess to> 
 have discovered something which has lain unknown and 
 unused up to the present time. I mean merely that it has 
 never before been employed systematically, and with con- 
 scious forethought, and that it has no place allotted to it 
 anywhere in the splendid circle of the sciences. Even 
 the inductive method was neither first discovered nor first 
 used by Bacon ; on the contrary, as Macaulay has said, 
 this method has been practised ever since the beginning 
 of the world by every human being. What Bacon did 
 was to insist that if Philosophy is to bear fruit, this 
 method must be fully, carefully, and systematically em- 
 ployed. In the same way, the new method which I 
 here venture to submit to the reader for the solution of 
 the higher problems of Civilization a method which works 
 by the exercise of what may be called the power of 
 Detachment, as the inductive method does by Observation 
 and Experiment is not a method now used for the first 
 time. On the contrary, we use it every day of our lives 
 in judging of the dispositions of men and of what they 
 are likely to do or think under given circumstances, 
 thereby regulating the relations in which we are to stand 
 to them. My own small part in the matter is merely to 
 insist that, if we are to solve the higher problems of 
 Civilization in a way that shall be both useful and satis- 
 factory the great problems of Religion, Government, 
 Material and Social Conditions, and the part they play 
 this method must be fully, carefully, and systematically 
 employed. And as I shall myself consistently employ this 
 method in the solution of the problems attempted in this 
 work, the reader will so far have a practical test, to 
 begin with, of its worth or worthlessness ; and any truths 
 that may perchance be liberated in the course of these 
 speculations, may fairly be attributed to the method em- 
 ployed rather than to myself. In order, however, that 
 the reader may see clearly my own reasons for believing 
 in the supreme value of this Organon or instrument, L
 
 THE NEW ORGANON. gi 
 
 propose to show here that it is the method that has been 
 unconsciously employed by the greatest poets, sages, and 
 thinkers of the world. I shall show further how, by 
 ignoring it, some of the greatest systems of Philosophy 
 have come to wreck, and systems of Polity of the greatest 
 thinkers have ended in Utopias and dreams. And lastly, 
 I shall show that to the neglect of it and the power of 
 Detachment by which it works are due nearly all the 
 great illusions of the world. 
 
 Of all the long array of thinkers and poets of modern 
 times, the few who have most persistently used the Laws 
 of the Mind in its entirety as their standpoint for the 
 interpretation of the world who have most systematically 
 kept their minds open to the reception of these laws, as 
 feeling, by a kind of instinct, that in them alone could any 
 solid basis be found for the interpretation alike of the 
 present or the past are admittedly among the greatest 
 Shakspeare, Goethe, Bacon, Emerson, Carlyle. 
 
 I remember when as a youth I first began the study 
 of Shakspeare, I was in the habit of reading almost 
 entirely for the lustre of the writing, my attention con- 
 centrated on the pomp and tread of the sentences with 
 their rich and resplendent imagery much in the same way 
 as when a boy I used to watch the procession through the 
 streets of some mammoth circus, with its golden chariots, 
 its spirit-stirring music, its glittering charioteers, but 
 paying little or no heed to the internal coherence of the 
 characters, the causal connexions of the dialogues, or the 
 truth and sequence of the sentiment and passions. As 
 time passed on, this excess of emphasis laid on mere 
 expression gradually gave way to a growing interest in the 
 structure and internal cohesion of the characters them- 
 selves, until now I care comparatively little for the pomp 
 and magnificence of expression, but dwell with ever-increas- 
 ing delight on that immense and subtle knowledge of the 
 laws of the human heart down to its finest and most evan- 
 escent experiences, which enabled Shakspeare to follow,
 
 9 2 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 with the fatal sureness of a hound following the trail, the 
 winding, ever-fluctuating, and evanishing line of thought 
 and passion. Indeed, in so far as mere insight is con- 
 cerned, one can imagine these dialogues shorn almost 
 entirely of that pomp of metaphor in which he so much 
 delighted and indulged, and reduced to the plainest and 
 simplest terms, without any derogation whatever from the 
 profundity or fineness of the thought. In reflecting on 
 Shakspeare, I always imagine him to have pondered his 
 dramas long and well, to have worked at the connexions 
 and sequences of thought and feeling with the greatest 
 care, and down to the minutest detail, but to have filled 
 in rapidly, painting with a free and dashing hand, seizing 
 the first materials that came to him, and often using 
 metaphors and words which touched his thought by the 
 merest segment and side of their circumference and 
 import. It was in this way, and by the lustres and 
 glancing meanings of these innumerable segments, that 
 he was able to shade the curve of his thought to its finest 
 nicety, while associations aroused by the range and redun- 
 dancy of words from which these segments were cut, gave 
 to the whole that richness and brilliancy which so pleases 
 the mind. It was with great justice, therefore, that one of 
 the most penetrating and ardent of his admirers remarked, 
 that the distinguishing characteristic of Shakspeare was 
 that he could say what he willed. In saying then that 
 I do not lay much stress on his immense and brilliant 
 powers of expression, I do not mean that I undervalue 
 the metaphorical power in itself. On the contrary, its 
 possession in any high degree, and when used to express 
 the finer shades of thought and feeling, is itself an indi- 
 cation of a high order of thought and genius ; for it implies 
 that the mind is so sensitive that, like light, all objects and 
 qualities, even to the most subtle, make on it a distinct 
 and definite impression, and therefore, by an unconscious 
 selection, objects or experiences making a like impression 
 may be freely used as metaphors to express each other's
 
 THE NEW ORGAN ON. 93 
 
 meanings. Of course much depends on the range of 
 affinity of the individual mind in determining what par- 
 ticular experiences shall be crystallized as metaphors out 
 of the vast and inexhaustible riches and complexity of the 
 world and human life. Habitual moods and feelings 
 have a tendency to express themselves in metaphors 
 drawn from the corresponding aspects of life and nature. 
 In Milton or Byron, for example, where the habitual mood 
 is one of lofty pride and elevation, the key is pitched high, 
 and the thought expresses itself in metaphors of sublime, 
 vague, or mystic character, drawn from the grander 
 aspects of Nature. In Wordsworth, again, where the 
 range of feeling is narrow, but of exquisite sensibility, the 
 thought reflects itself in metaphors pure, simple, and 
 drawn from those aspects of Nature to which he was most 
 susceptible, rather than from the varied interests of the 
 world. In religious poets and thinkers, like Newman and 
 Keble, the sensibility is of that intense but limited nature 
 involved in what we understand by piety subtle percep- 
 tions of the effect on devotion of the varied influences of 
 the world, spiritual or sensuous, whether as furtherances 
 or hindrances and accordingly the metaphors used to 
 express this predominant mood, are drawn chiefly from 
 those aspects of Nature and human life which best reflect 
 it. But Shakspeare deals with the full round of rela- 
 tionships existing between each part of our nature and 
 every other ; and the immense range and variety of 
 metaphor on which he draws from every quarter of Nature 
 and life, is but the symbol and index of this breadth and 
 range of thought and sympathy. So that one may say 
 that Shakspeare's metaphorical power is largely the mea- 
 sure of his range and fineness of sensibility ; as indeed, 
 when well considered, it will be seen to be but another 
 aspect of it. But what I am concerned here to em- 
 phasize is, that Shakspeare might have exhibited the same 
 subtlety and power which enabled him to follow the 
 intangible threads of thought and feeling as if they were
 
 94 -A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 the most gross and tangible of realities, without the use 
 of that richness and redundancy of metaphor which to the 
 vulgar is his highest, as it his most obvious and superficial 
 distinction. Goethe, who in many ways draws from the 
 same deep wells of thought and feeling, is one of the 
 chastest, purest, and simplest of writers. What consti- 
 tutes Shakspeare's supreme glory, and gives him that 
 unique place which he occupies among men, is not so 
 much his power of expression, which has been approached, 
 if not equalled, by many men vastly his inferiors in insight ; 
 nor his poetical or lyrical power, which has been equalled, 
 if not excelled, by several with no pretensions to his genius ; 
 but that unequalled knowledge of the Laws of the Human 
 Mind in its entirety, that unerring sureness of perception 
 which, when we consider the difficulty there is in following 
 the track of the simplest human spirit when acted on by 
 vague and conflicting thoughts and emotions, has about 
 it something portentous, superhuman, almost divine. In 
 figuring him to myself, I often think of the difference 
 between him and other men, as like the difference between 
 the ordinary run of billiard-players and the great professors 
 and masters of the art. The ordinary player commencing 
 with a few careful and happy strokes perhaps, and com- 
 piling a small score rapidly and brilliantly, gradually, as 
 the game advances, loses control of the balls, which go 
 distractedly in all directions, until at last he leaves them 
 in positions from which it is impossible to score, and so 
 comes to an end. The great player, on the contrary, 
 knows so accurately where the balls will be left after each 
 stroke, that he can go on scoring with the same facility 
 after any number of rounds, and in all positions of the balls. 
 It is the same with Shakspeare. If we take, for example, 
 the play of Othello, and represent the various passions, 
 sentiments, and impulses of the mind as so many billiard 
 balls, we find him setting in motion one after another of 
 these passions and sentiments, until he has them all in full 
 activity, and then, as the interaction of conflicting passions
 
 THE NEW ORGAN ON. 95 
 
 proceeds, he knows so precisely where each particular 
 impact will leave them all putting one to rest altogether 
 perhaps, giving another a tremendous momentum and 
 sending it rushing among the rest, touching a third so 
 skilfully as to wake it up to an attitude of attention, and 
 no more that all are kept rolling on with the greatest 
 precision and facility without a miss, ' fluke,' or false 
 judgment to the end ; while lesser men, after opening 
 successfully, and every now and then perhaps making some 
 fine stroke generally in the line of their natural genius or 
 affinity when confronted with the deeper, more subtle, 
 and complex situations, with passions and thoughts diver- 
 sified and conflicting, lose control of their characters, 
 neither know what to do with them or where to leave 
 them, and at last, in desperation, strike about distractedly 
 in all directions, and end in bombast, unreality, and 
 -absurdity. 
 
 Such is Shakspeare, and the unique position he has won 
 for himself among men by reason of his knowledge of the 
 Laws of the Human Mind in its entirety and as a concrete 
 whole. But it is important to remark that these laws, to be 
 available for the world, and for each man in the different 
 and ever new life which he has to lead, must be separated 
 and detached from that web of laws which constitutes the 
 mind, freed from all foreign adhesions, and fixed as a 
 constellation in the galaxy of truths, of which the world 
 through long ages has slowly become the master ; in 
 the same way as in the Physical Sciences, although 
 by mere empirical knowledge you may be able to deal 
 with any concrete thing, to know its mode of action, 
 a.nd how to regulate it or adapt yourself to it, still, 
 for your knowledge to be of use to others, or to be 
 made available for the building up of knowledge of other 
 kinds, the separate laws of which that concrete thing 
 is made up must be detached, registered, and hung up 
 as universal verities, to be used by whomsoever they 
 may concern. A billiard-player, for example, may be able
 
 9 6 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 by practice to tell you precisely what point on the different 
 cushions a ball will hit, when struck from any particular 
 angle ; but unless these angles can be abstracted from the 
 actual cushions and table and balls, and represented 
 abstractly in a mathematical diagram, they can never be 
 available for any general purpose, and can never be used 
 to build up truths of a more complex order, and of other 
 kinds, in which the same laws are involved. In like 
 manner, if a physicist were unable to abstract the law of 
 falling bodies from two actual falling bodies, say two iron 
 balls of different sizes ; or the law of projectiles, from some 
 special projectiles of which he had experience ; or the law 
 of the expansion of gases, from the particular steam-engine 
 with which he was concerned ; his empirical knowledge of 
 the behaviour of these balls and projectiles and engines 
 would be of no assistance in solving other problems in 
 which these laws are involved as factors. And so with the 
 Laws of the Human Mind. Unless they can be loosened 
 and detached from the web in which they lie enmeshed, 
 there may be great knowledge of the action of the mind as 
 a concrete whole, but this insight is not available for other 
 men who have different lives to lead. Of the millions 
 who have read Shakspeare, and felt his profound insight 
 into the human heart, how many have been able to avail 
 themselves of a hundredth part of his wisdom ? If men 
 had to lead precisely the same lives as Hamlet or Othello, 
 they would no doubt profit greatly by the knowledge 
 which Shakspeare has opened up for them ; but their own 
 course of life being different, and they being unable of 
 themselves to detach the great laws of the mind which are 
 applicable alike to every human being, they are left as 
 poor and helpless as before. 
 
 I desire further to observe, that it is precisely those 
 men, who in the different ages of the world have detached 
 the laws of the human mind and embodied them either in 
 their own lives or in proverbs and generalizations, that 
 have been regarded as Seers and Wise Men, in contra-
 
 THE NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 97 
 
 distinction to the promiscuous and unknown herds who, 
 in every age, have not been able or not chosen so to 
 extract them, and who in consequence have lain hide- 
 bound in illusion, the dupes of appearances, the victims 
 and slaves of habit, custom, tradition, superstition, 
 delusion, and imposture. 
 
 Among the Thinkers and Seers of modern times who 
 have shown insight into the Laws of the Human Mind as 
 a concrete whole, and whose range of thought is conterminous 
 with the whole field of knowledge, Goethe stands pre- 
 eminent. And although, like Shakspeare, he has chosen to 
 throw this insight into a concrete, rather than an abstract 
 form, by means of dramas, novels, poems, tales, and the 
 like, he nevertheless has let fall so many scattered grains 
 of pure thought by the way, and has left so many gems of 
 pure wisdom in a didactic, rather than a pictorial form, 
 that the outlines of his great Scheme of the World are 
 sufficiently apparent. Many, if not most, of his dramas, 
 novels, and even short poems, were written primarily with 
 the idea of giving form and embodiment to some Law or 
 Laws of the Human Mind in which at the time he was inte- 
 rested ; although from the rich complexity of his mind they 
 often ran on all sides into subtleties not contemplated in 
 the original framing. The Elective Affinities, for example, 
 was written to illustrate the idea that the affinities and 
 attractions existing between the positive and negative 
 poles in electricity, between acids and salts in chemistry, 
 are paralleled in human life by corresponding attractions 
 between the sexes. His Tasso, again, is so constructed 
 as to emphasize the unconscious antagonism that naturally 
 exists between the poet and idealist on the one hand, and 
 the man of the world, the ' practical man,' on the other ; 
 while his Faust and Wilhelm Meister are embodiments 
 of many of his thoughts on the different interests of 
 life, and the great problem of human destiny. Many of 
 his smaller lyrics, too, are the expression of those lighter 
 connexions between Sentiment and Thought which private 
 
 H
 
 9 8 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 experiences of his own had at the time deeply impressed 
 on his mind. Indeed, so anxious is he that these repre- 
 sentations should be true embodiments of Laws of the 
 Human Mind, that in many instances, as for example in 
 Wilhelm Mcister, he has, to a great extent, sacrificed the 
 interest of the narrative, and laid himself open to the 
 charge of dulness. And furthermore, as, unlike Shakspeare, 
 he has chosen to express his thoughts in the most chaste 
 and simple form, it is evident that, in spite of the 
 exquisite beauty of thought and feeling in his smaller 
 lyrics, and the inimitable symmetry of their form, the 
 supreme place he holds among the moderns is due chiefly, 
 if not entirely, to his depth and subtlety of insight into the 
 Laws of the Human Mind as a living whole. 
 
 Among the prose w r riters and seers, again, of the modern 
 world, who have thrown their wisdom into a didactic and 
 abstract, rather than into a concrete and dramatic form, 
 those who have made perhaps the deepest impression on 
 their times, and whose names will most readily occur to 
 the reader, are Bacon and Emerson ; of those who have 
 thrown it into a historical or biographical form, Carlyle. 
 
 Bacon has the same preponderating intelligence as 
 Shakspeare marred perhaps on certain of its sides by a 
 defective fulness of sympathy the same comprehension 
 and range, combined with the most minute and subtle 
 observation ; and accordingly his works are a mine of 
 wisdom and insight into the Laws of the Human Mind in 
 its entirety. And although, in his Essays, he dwells, 
 perhaps, on these laws of the mind rather from the point 
 of view of the Man of the World, who values them for the 
 selfish uses to which they can be put for worldly advance- 
 ment and the like, than from the point of view of the 
 Idealist, who values them for themselves alone, or in 
 reference to their bearings on spiritual and moral ends ; 
 nevertheless, in his writings generally, he exhibits potential 
 insight into all parts of the mind alike, and into the 
 relations of each part with every other. The subtle
 
 THE NEW ORGANON. 99 
 
 spiritual affinities which connect things most opposite in 
 appearance, and to the sensuous eye, lay before his glance 
 x -as clear as their sensuous and worldly relations ; while 
 his mind had that comprehensiveness and reach, which 
 enabled him to take up a position so central and com- 
 manding, that from it he could survey all the kingdoms of 
 the mind, and construct a map of the whole region as if 
 in a bird's-eye view. 
 
 Emerson, too, has the same comprehensive sweep of 
 observation as Bacon, and overlooks without strain the 
 whole field of human thought. He knows the Laws of 
 the Mind out-and-out, and reads with equal facility and 
 sympathy the laws connecting the intellect with the 
 passions and emotions, the passions and emotions with 
 the sentiments, the sentiments with ideas, and ideas with 
 the various forms of sensuous desire. But believing that 
 illusion always lurks in the concrete and embodied, he 
 will not throw these laws into the form of drama, novel, 
 or tale, but strips them naked, and gives them to us pure, 
 and free from all taint of time and place, of circumstance 
 or personality. He loves them, too, for their own sake ; 
 but if he has a bias, it is to mark their bearings on high 
 sentiment and the spiritual nature, instead of, like Bacon, 
 subordinating them to the necessities of practical ' fruit,' 
 or the requirements of a sensuous and worldly prosperity. 
 He has as much subtlety, too, and minuteness of observa- 
 tion, as he has reach and comprehension ; and his eye is 
 as awake to the baser motives, the cunning and rascalities 
 of men, as that of a detective. He can dissect to a hair the 
 parts played respectively in any concrete character or per- 
 formance by the mingled motives of ambition, pride, desire, 
 sympathy, or the love of ideas. In his English Traits, no 
 essential characteristic of the English people escapes him; 
 and although he remained in this country onlya few months, 
 his book has made all future treatment of this subject, 
 from the same height of view (and without following on 
 his lines), as impossible as Shakspeare's play of Othello has
 
 ioo A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 made all subsequent treatment of the passion of jealousy.. 
 He took in the mental lineaments of all classes and con- 
 ditions, with the same easy unconsciousness, from the 
 characteristics of cabmen and 'Philistines,' to those of 
 bishops, scholars, noblemen, men of the world, and 
 litterateurs. He knows so well, in a word, the Laws of 
 the Human Mind in all their connexions, ramifications,, 
 and remotest implications, that a hint, a word, an expres- 
 sion, is as good to him as a dissertation, a sermon, a 
 scientific exposition ; and, like those biologists who can 
 reconstruct an extinct mammal from a bone of its foot,, 
 he can read the general in the particular, the abstract in 
 the concrete, the macrocosm in the microcosm, and from 
 a leaf or blade of grass can build up a world. He grasps,, 
 too, with as great facility the Laws that run through 
 Societies, as those that play through the individual mind ; 
 and sees clearly that first secret of politics, viz., that the 
 character of a people, its stage of morals and culture,, 
 will of itself necessitate the form of government it will 
 obey; knowing well that a mob of blackguards, or a 
 horde of blood-thirsty savages, will as surely necessitate 
 the policeman and the military despot, as a band of saints- 
 may be imagined to dispense with them. 
 
 Carlyle, too, like Emerson and Bacon, overlooks the 
 whole field of thought, and knows the Laws of the Mind in 
 their fulness and entirety through the whole gamut of 
 aspiration and desire, from the worldly and sensuous up 
 to the spiritual and moral experiences. Unlike Emerson 
 and Bacon, however, he prefers to exhibit these laws in 
 their concrete embodiment as they have appeared in His- 
 tory and Biography, rather than in their severely abstract 
 form. And yet, from the variety of thoughts he has 
 thrown into an abstract shape, from the monotonousness 
 of his didactic harangues, and the emphasis he lays on 
 certain cardinal features in the character of his heroes, the 
 completeness and rotundity of his Scheme of the World 
 may, with a little patience and care, be clearly enough dis-
 
 THE NEW ORGAN ON. 101 
 
 covered. His insight into the Laws of the Mind as a 
 concrete whole, is well seen in his biographies, where the 
 facts (none of which or their significance escape him) 
 are so put together and arranged in their relations to 
 one another and the whole, that the resulting ' character ' 
 'has all the force and impressiveness of reality. In his 
 histories, as in the French Revolution, he always attaches 
 the sequence of events to primary impulses of the 
 heart and imagination, rather than to mere abstract 
 formulas. The ' September Massacres ' for example, he 
 refers, not to any abstract theories of the " rights of man," 
 (although these were all the time passively consenting 
 factors in the background), but to the great active and 
 impulsive passions of Fear (Prussians on the way to the 
 capital), of Preternatural Suspicion (plots in the prisons), 
 and the unpremeditated Cruelty, Frenzy, and Rage, \vhich 
 in that lurid, demoniacal, and contagious atmosphere of 
 suspicion and fear, the smallest spark (rap on the knuckles 
 from the cane of a suspected priest) would kindle into a blaze. 
 \Yith respect to his direct insight, I have always myself re- 
 ,-garded his interpretation of Goethe's Tale whether indeed 
 it correctly represented the meaning attached to the Tale 
 by Goethe himself or not, matters little as perhaps the 
 finest exhibition in our time, of insight into the relations 
 existing between the various powers, faculties, and affec- 
 tions of the human mind, and the laws which regulate their 
 mutual dependencies and interactions. In one instance 
 .alone can I remember his having neglected any great law 
 of the human mind, but as on this law practically turned 
 his whole scheme of Government and Politics, this neglect 
 has been most disastrous in its effects, and, as the reader 
 will hereafter see, gave rise to those reactionary theories 
 of Society and Government, which have ruined his political 
 influence and weakened his philosophical fame. 
 
 The writers whom we have just been considering are 
 admittedly among the greatest poets and thinkers of the 
 modern world, and have gained their pre-eminence, as we
 
 102 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 have seen, chiefly by their insight into the Laws of the 
 Human Mind as a concrete whole. They differ from writers 
 like Kant, Mill, and Herbert Spencer, inasmuch as these 
 latter deal with the Physical Sciences, or with the sciences 
 of Metaphysics and Psychology, but have nothing to say 
 on that Science of the Mind as a concrete whole, which is 
 the key-stone of the arch of knowledge, and in the 
 absence of which, as a standpoint of interpretation, all other 
 knowledge, however practical and useful in the ordinary 
 way, becomes, in reference to the higher ends of life, and 
 the finer forms of human insight, a superior kind of 
 pedantry merely. They differ again from thinkers like 
 Comte, who, although he avowedly took as his basis that 
 primitive form of Psychology known as Phrenology, 
 nevertheless, when he came to the interpretation of 
 History, and the movements of Society generally, took 
 his stand on great broad and universal mental laws, but 
 at the same time was so wanting in that wisdom of life 
 which was so characteristic of the great seers we have 
 just considered^ that knowledge of the laws of the 
 individual mind, as distinct from the laws of mankind in 
 the aggregate that, as we shall see farther on, he easily 
 fell into Utopias and dreams. One great law of the 
 human mind, however, he did perceive, and by more or 
 less unconsciously holding fast to it through all complica- 
 tions, perplexities, and details, he was enabled to give us 
 that splendid interpretation of History for which he is so 
 justly renowned. Again, the great Seers we have 
 mentioned, differ from theologians like Newman and 
 Maurice, who, instead of dealing genially with the whole 
 human mind and personality, and investing the law of 
 each part with the same interest and importance as every 
 other, have restricted themselves chiefly to certain special 
 relationships, which indeed, like the specialist in medicine, 
 they have cultivated with great thoroughness and detail, 
 as if the problem of the world were : Given the relation of 
 God and man, or of father and son, what are the laws that
 
 THE NEW ORGAN ON. 103 
 
 regulate the connections for good or evil of every other 
 relation with this? at the same time that all other mental 
 relationships are frozen, as it were, and cut off from their 
 field of interest and enquiry. 
 
 And lastly, the great Seers differ from the higher order 
 of novelists like Thackeray, George Eliot, and Charlotte 
 Bronte, who, although professing in their various charac- 
 ters to deal with the laws of the human mind in its 
 entirety, nevertheless will be found in practice to deal 
 only with the ordinary level of thought and feeling in very 
 ordinary human beings, or restrict themselves chiefly to 
 the microscopic and morbid anatomy of that more or less 
 limited range of thought and emotion of which the sexual 
 relation is the central point, from which all radiates and 
 to which all returns. 
 
 But the supreme value of a knowledge of the Laws of 
 the Human Mind is not only seen in the fact that it is 
 the Organon used by the great poets and seers of the 
 world, it is seen also in the fact that to the neglect of 
 these laws (and of the power of Detachment which is 
 used to disentangle them) are due most of the illusions, 
 impostures, and superstitions, of the world. It is because 
 children cannot detach the law from the circumstance or 
 thing to which it is for the time being wedded, that they 
 imagine the virtue and beauty to be in their toys and dolls, 
 which exist only in their own minds ; and it is for the 
 same reason, that the youth imagines he sees that far-oft 
 and rainbow-like charm in the girl of his fancy, which he 
 himself lends to her. In like manner, it is because men 
 cannot detach the man from the position he occupies, 
 that we have had in history the basest and most con- 
 temptible of creatures worshipped as deities, and that, too, 
 by men who, as reward for this pleasing illusion, have 
 been whipped and trampled on from youth to age, to 
 gratify the avarice, passions, or caprice of the despots 
 themselves have made. It is because men cannot detach 
 the man from the occupation the owner of land, for
 
 104 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 example, from his land the man engaged in trade, from 
 his shop that you have -that recognised difference of 
 nature and kind among men, which has become embedded 
 like a tape-worm in the brain of the Old World, and which 
 not only has kept the great masses of the people willing 
 serfs, from the dawn of history down to within the last 
 few centuries, but would, if not extracted, have continued 
 to keep them so until the end of time. It is because men 
 cannot detach the fact from the phrases which overlay 
 and disguise it, the thought from the expression in which 
 it is wrapped up and concealed, that you have flashy 
 scoundrelism pushing homely honesty to the wall, the 
 posing charlatan bearing away the palm from the simple 
 lover of truth, the blatant and unblushing demagogue 
 driving the serious statesman from the helm. It is 
 because men cannot detach their feelings from the objects 
 with which in time and place they have been associated 
 and bound up, that you have men persecuting each other 
 because the same happiness and bliss which the one feels 
 in contemplating the fatherhood of God, the character of 
 Christ, or the joys of Heaven, another feels in bending 
 before the will of Allah, in contemplating the character 
 of Mahomet, or the Paradise to which he invites him. 
 It is because men cannot or will not detach their per- 
 ceptions from their feelings, that you have the laudator 
 temporis acti; that you have men's Philosophies, as Goethe 
 said, but the mere supplement of their Practice, so that 
 what they love they tend to laud, what they hate they 
 tend to depreciate, what they would like to do they think 
 they may do, and what they are in the habit of doing they 
 believe it right they should do. It is because men cannot 
 detach themselves from the occupation in which they 
 are engaged, that they become subdued to the element 
 they work in, and in the greater number of instances the 
 experienced eye can predict from a man's appearance what 
 is his occupation, and from his occupation what is the 
 general range and configuration of his sentiments and ideas.
 
 THE NEW ORGANON. 105 
 
 The above are a few familiar instances of the illusions 
 into which men fall who neglect to exercise that power of 
 Detachment which is the main instrument by which the 
 Laws of the Human Mind are to be disengaged from the 
 circumstances in which they are wrapped up. And it is to 
 these illusions that a large part of the evils, the injustices, 
 the trials, the heart-burnings, the misunderstandings and 
 chronic discontents of life are directly traceable. I do not 
 mean to imply that it might have been otherwise ; on the 
 contrary, I perceive, and shall show farther on, that only 
 in the far future can we expect it to be different. I would 
 merely remark here, that it is only the ' education ' which 
 will teach men to know the Laws of the Human Mind and 
 to see through illusions, that can help them to remove the 
 ills of life, not the mere pedantry which is about all that 
 is usually implied in the term; and further that just as a 
 man's power of Detachment is the best index of his rank 
 in the scale of intelligence, so, too, in proportion to the 
 general diffusion of this power throughout a society or a 
 nation, is the stage of civilization it has reached. 
 
 To illustrate still further the importance of a knowledge 
 of the Laws of the Human Mind as a concrete entity, for 
 the higher problems of life, I had originally intended to 
 have pointed out in this chapter the Utopias into which 
 some of the greatest thinkers have fallen, from the want 
 of knowledge, or neglect, of these laws ; but on remember- 
 ing that in future chapters I shall have occasion to 
 controvert certain doctrines held by some of the most 
 eminent of these thinkers, I have judged it expedient to 
 pass them by in this place. I shall, however, in the next 
 chapter, give one more instance of the errors into which 
 men fall, from the neglect of the great Laws of the Human 
 Mind, as, by doing this, I shall not only still further 
 illustrate the importance of these laws, but shall perhaps 
 help to remove objections and prejudices which would 
 otherwise stand in the way of those doctrines and laws 
 which I desire to establish in a future chapter.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 , SUPERNATURALISM versus SCIENCE. 
 
 THE particular errors to which I alluded in the last 
 chapter will be best seen, perhaps, by a general contrast 
 between what may be termed respectively Supernaturalism 
 and Science ; between those who hold that some revelation 
 has been given to the world by a person or persons super- 
 naturally sent or inspired : and those who, like myself, 
 believe that the only revelation the Supreme Power has 
 given to man is the Laws of the World and of the Human 
 Mind. And in order that I may do no injustice to Super- 
 naturalism in this comparison, I propose to take, as 
 typical instance of it, the most coherent and intelligent 
 form it has yet assumed, the form that is accepted by the 
 most cultured minds, and that offers the fewest points of 
 antagonism to modern thought ; the form, in a word, that 
 will best exemplify its true essence, freed from all those 
 superstitions, impurities, and adhesions which are so 
 obnoxious to the culture and enlightenment of the present 
 day. Now, if we represent to ourselves in thought the 
 respective exponents of these opposite views of the World, 
 at the outset of their journey in search of Truth, we shall 
 find that those feelings and necessities of the mind which 
 it is their object to harmonize, are alike in both. Each 
 starts forth equipped, on the one hand, with Conscience,, 
 and on the other, with the demand for Cause the one
 
 SCIENCE. 107 
 
 "being an affection of the feelings, the other a necessity of 
 pure thought. But they do not get far on their way 
 before it becomes apparent that, although neither Super- 
 naturalist nor Scientist altogether ignores either of these 
 two affections of the mind, the Supernaturalist lays more 
 stress on the feeling the Conscience, the Scientist more 
 stress on the thought the Cause. And from this primal 
 difference in the emphasis laid on Thought and Sentiment 
 respectively, flow those subsequent divergencies which, 
 widening as they go, at last become entirely antagonistic 
 and irreconcileable. Let us follow for a moment our 
 Supernaturalist and Scientist, and see how they fare as 
 they pursue each his several way. 
 
 /The Supernaturalist, with a natural leaning to piety 
 and devoutness, feeling acutely the inward unrest, the 
 remorse, the discord, which the consciousness of Sin and 
 the conflict between his higher and lower nature have 
 made habitual ; yearning for deliverance from this un- 
 natural condition, from this inward discord, this sense of 
 longing and aspiration unsatisfied and unappeased ; feels, 
 by the deepest intuition of his mind, that there can be no- 
 desire implanted in the human breast but has its natural 
 satisfaction somewhere ; that the yearning of the child no 
 more surely pre-supposes the mother's breast ; hunger and 
 thirst, food and water; the sexes, their opposites; and the 
 bird his mate ; than this restless yearning of the soul pre- 
 supposes, somewhere in the wide world, if one could only 
 find it, the provision for inward harmony and rest. 'On 
 looking about him for some sign or token that shall lead 
 him to the desired object, he feels that this Sense of Sin in 
 his own members, this Evil and misery in the world, must 
 be referred to some commensurate cause, and to what 
 else can it be referred but to some supernatural Evil 
 Power or Devil, in whose chains, though struggling to be 
 free, both he and it lie bound and captive. At the same 
 time, he recognises that this very effort and desire to be 
 free, this inward aspiration to Good (as well as the
 
 10 8 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 bounteous provision of Nature for man's wants which he 
 sees around him), necessitate a belief in some Good 
 Power, or God, to whom alone they can legitimately be 
 referred. But if this were all, if his inward unrest were 
 due to the conflict of two opposing deities for his soul, 
 there would be nothing for him (seeing that the Evil 
 Power would seem to be in possession, and to have the 
 strongest hold over him), but, like the Heathen or the 
 Slave, to do homage to the tyrant, to propitiate the Evil 
 Deity by ceremonies, offerings, expiations, sacrifices and 
 the like. And this he sees to be the idea of the Religion of 
 the East, where the chief gods are evil, like Siva, and are 
 worshipped by sacrifices, expiations, and oft-times by 
 bloody and inhuman rites. This religion, then, is a religion 
 of Fear, an attempt to get harmony and rest for the soul 
 by appeasing the evil, rather than by aggrandizing the 
 good, and is not a solution that he can accept as final. 
 To deliver himself from this worship of Fear w r hich he 
 feels to be degrading and embruting, and to attain to a 
 -svorship of Reverence and Love which shall be ennobling, 
 expanding, and elevating, is his main endeavour ; but 
 recognising his own feebleness and inability to combat 
 the great Power of Evil, he feels the necessity of some 
 impulse, some spirit, being communicated to him, which 
 shall so stimulate, encourage, and reinforce the good 
 that is within him, as to enable it to overcome the 
 evil. But how is this to be done ? How, except by the 
 'Good Power himself appearing, as a great general, in 
 person on the field of human life, taking on Himself the 
 nature of man, submitting to the evils, the trials, and the 
 temptations of life, nay even to death itself; and yet 
 victoriously vanquishing the Devil at all points, conquer- 
 ing Sin in himself, relieving Evil and misery in others, and 
 so, as our Great Exemplar, teaching us that it can be done, 
 if we will only keep our souls at the same lofty level. 
 But where to get the enthusiasm, the impetus, the spirit, 
 the hope, necessary to enable us to do this. The belief
 
 SUPERNATURALISM I-F.RSUS SCIENCE. 109 
 
 itself that the Great God has so loved us and taken com- 
 passion on us, that he has come down to help us, and 
 given Himself to die for us, and the promise that when 
 He is gone He will leave His spirit with us, is of itself 
 sufficient to rouse into self-sacrificing devotion the nobler 
 elements of our souls, to keep up the enthusiasm in our 
 hearts, to nerve us for the struggle, to comfort us in 
 defeat, and to give us assurance of final victory. Without 
 such Incarnation, indeed, and Exemplar, how in this con- 
 fused world could we know what to do or avoid, what 
 standard of life to set up for ourselves where spiritual 
 wickedness in high places so much prevails ? How else 
 but with this divine standard could we separate the wheat 
 from the chaff? How could we believe in the possibility 
 of conquering the evil in ourselves and others, or get 
 heart to fight it, but that its defeat had already been 
 accomplished ? How sympathise with the lower races, 
 the down-trodden and oppressed, except by the knowledge 
 that He Himself adopted them as His brothers, and 
 included them in the fatherhood of God ? How know 
 that the suffering of Humanity was not God's intention, 
 but that He Himself came in human flesh and delivered 
 them from it, by casting out devils, healing the sick, and 
 the like ? How find an answer to the natural longing of 
 the mind for a future existence, except that by His resur- 
 rection and ascension He has given us the assurance that 
 we too shall rise and be with the Father ? 
 
 Such an incarnation as this, is precisely what the Super- 
 naturalist feels would be necessary to give him that 
 inward harmony and rest which he so sorely needs, and 
 if, as he plods wearily along, tidings reach him that such 
 has indeed occurred, that the God of Light has actually 
 incarnated Himself in human form for his deliverance, 
 will not the coincidence of the report with the a priori 
 belief that it was the only way of escape for men, im- 
 mensely strengthen its credibility ? And if, moreover, the 
 strictest examination of the historical record fails to shake
 
 JIO A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 the broad basis of fact on which it rests; if, further 
 (judging the tree by its fruits), he finds that all other 
 religions have either died out altogether, or degenerated 
 into devil-worship, and the civilizations founded on them 
 sunk into impotence or death, whereas the European 
 civilizations, founded on Christianity, have gone on pros- 
 pering without any signs of decay ; and if, finally, all this 
 corresponds with what Christ affirmed of Himself, viz., 
 that He was the Light of the World, and that He would 
 send His spirit, after He was gone, to convince the world 
 of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment ; has he not here 
 such a correspondence of a posteriori with a priori con- 
 siderations, as will justify him in giving to the Christian 
 Revelation his full and unreserved assent ? 
 
 Such is the course pursued, and the goal arrived at, by 
 the Supernaturalist in his search for inward harmony and 
 rest. And if, as a Scientist who takes his stand on the 
 Laws of the World and of the Human Mind, I maybe per- 
 mitted to trace in a general way the course I have myself 
 pursued, and the goal I have arrived at, I shall perhaps 
 best illustrate the radical differences existing between 
 these two opposite views of the world. 
 
 v/Starting out, like the Supernaturalist, in search of inward 
 harmony, but with thoughts turned perhaps less to the 
 state of my feelings than to the real relations and con- 
 nexions of things, I, too, carried with me the consciousness 
 of Evil, of the inward conflict perpetually going on between 
 high aspirations and low tendencies and desires, and, in 
 consequence, of discord within and without. Like him, too, 
 I felt a yearning for inward peace, and for deliverance 
 from Sin, from low thoughts, base motives, and guilty 
 desires. And, like him, I felt confident, by a deep intuition 
 of my nature, that somewhere provision must be made for 
 harmonizing this inward discord, that somewhere there 
 must exist a Power that would enable men to confront 
 Evil with Good, and gradually to overcome it, and so give 
 them rest and harmony and peace. But at this point of
 
 SUPERNATURALISM reuses SCIENCE. m 
 
 my journey I part company with the Supernaturalist, and 
 the farther we go on our respective ways, the more diverg- 
 ent do our paths become. 
 
 The Supernaturalist being, as I have said, more con- 
 cerned with the unsatisfactory state of his feelings, than 
 with the real relations and connexions of things, jumps 
 naturally to the conclusion that the Good he sees and 
 feels within him and without him on the one hand, and on 
 the other, the Sin and Evil in himself and the world, are 
 due to the direct agency of God and the Devil respec- 
 tively ; and, accordingly, shifts the drama of human destiny 
 from the Natural to the Supernatural world, from the world 
 of effects, to the world of what to him are real causes, 
 where the problem for solution is: Given the soul of man 
 as the prize of contention between God and the Devil 
 (the Devil in the meantime having got man into his hands 
 under protest, and holding him by force rather than by 
 consent), how to reinforce man so as to enable him to 
 shake off the Devil, recover his true allegiance, and thus 
 find peace and rest for his soul ? And the solution that 
 the Supernaturalist finds credible and satisfactory is, 
 as we have seen, that the Good God Himself has ap- 
 peared on the field of human life, and that this fact, 
 once recognised by men, will impart such enthusiasm and 
 stimulus to their drooping and dispirited souls, as, like the 
 appearance of some great general in the thick of the fight, 
 will enable them to drive back the enemy, and recover that 
 dominion of the soul which they had lost, and which was 
 theirs by native birth-right. Now, while admitting that 
 this method of cutting the Gordian-knot of human destiny, 
 as in a Greek drama, by the appearance on the stage of 
 human life of the deus ex machina in the shape of a Super- 
 natural Power, was the most natural, harmonious, and 
 satisfactory solution of the problem that could have been 
 found at the time of its promulgation by St. Paul, I would 
 remark that, at the present day, it can only be held as a 
 satisfactory solution, by neglecting the effects on men's
 
 I12 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 beliefs, of one of the greatest Laws of the Human Mind a 
 Law so wide and far-reaching in its consequence that (like 
 the Law of Gravitation, which for ever got rid of those 
 supernatural agencies formerly believed to regulate the 
 movements of the planets), when once it is received into 
 the mind, and its full significance becomes apparent, it 
 will topple the most harmonious, coherent, or symmetrical 
 superstructure of Supernaturalism to its base. The law I 
 refer to, I have elsewhere called ' the Law of Wills and 
 Causes,' and in future chapters I shall have occasion to 
 exhibit in fuller detail the great part it plays in religious 
 development. For the present, however, it will be suffi- 
 cient to say, that what I mean by this Law is, that when the 
 natural or scientific causes and connexions of any phe- 
 nomenon are unknown, it must be ascribed to the agency 
 of wills like our own ; but that when the natural laws and 
 connexions become known, the phenomenon ceases to be' 
 ascribed to the agency of such wills. Now as at the time 
 of Christ the mind of man was believed to be pure spirit,, 
 entirely disengaged from the body or the material organ- 
 ization of the brain, men were forced, by this natural law 
 of the mind, to refer the Sin and Evil in themselves and 
 others, to the direct agency of Wills like their own, that is 
 to say, to Evil Spirits, or, in a word, to the Devil ; the 
 accompanying remorse and sense of guilt being at the 
 same time naturally regarded as the consequences of the 
 injury or offence done to the Good Spirit, or God. But at 
 the present day, the mind is known to be inseparably 
 bound up with the material organization of the brain, and 
 evil thoughts or deeds, in consequence, can no longer be 
 legitimately referred to the agency of Evil Spirits ; but, on 
 the contrary, must be regarded as natural affections of the 
 brain, acting under the various stimuli and temptations of 
 life, according to their own proper laws ; while remorse 
 and the sense of sin, instead of pointing of necessity, as the 
 Supernaturalist thinks, to a good Deity whom we have 
 offended, and to whom we must become reconciled, are
 
 SUPERNATURALISM VKRSCS SCIENCE. 113 
 
 found to have their normal sphere of action primarily in 
 the human beings around us whom we have injured or 
 offended, and only secondarily to refer to the Deity, when 
 we are conscious of having, by thought or act, run counter 
 to the great ends which He is believed to be working out. 
 But not only can the thoughts of the mind, which give rise 
 to Sin and Evil, no longer be referred to the agency of an 
 Evil Spirit, but a wider view of the World will make it 
 apparent that these very thoughts themselves have no 
 positive quality of evil, but are merely necessities which 
 inhere in the Ground-plan of the World. 
 
 The World is constructed on the principle of Individu- 
 ation ; by which I mean that it is not lumped together as a 
 whole, but is distributed into individual natures animals, 
 plants, human beings of every race, species, and variety 
 in the same way that the hand, to be more serviceable, is 
 divided into individual fingers. And, whatever be its 
 ultimate aim, whatever be the ultimate goal to which it is 
 tending, it is plain that that intention and goal can only 
 ,be worked out and arrived at, by the agency of these indi- 
 vidual natures animals, plants, and man. Such being 
 the evident ground-plan of the World (for which, by the 
 way, it is as useless to ask the reason as it would be to 
 enquire why Matter exists in the antagonistic forms of 
 attraction and repulsion), one sees at a glance that it is a 
 necessity, inherent in the original design, that there should 
 be some special provision for maintaining this individuality, 
 and preventing things from being agglutinated with, or 
 absorbed into, one another. And so, indeed, there is. We 
 find in animals, horns, hoofs, claws, fangs, stings, organs 
 of offence and defence of every variety, all serving as mere 
 instruments or means by which this ground-scheme of 
 Individuation is maintained. Now, a little reflection will 
 show that corresponding to these horns, fangs, and stings 
 in the lower animals, and to the appetites of fear, hunger, 
 .and self-preservation by which they are set in motion, is 
 -vvhat we call the evil nature in man. Besides his coarse
 
 1I4 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 physical defences against enemies, man has the finer 
 weapons of envy, pride, jealousy, revenge, and the like, 
 which are merely these instruments of individuation and 
 self-preservation carried up into the mind, and transmuted 
 there into more subtle and flexible rapiers of attack or 
 defence. Lesser men defend themselves from absorption 
 by greater by means of envy, or hold their own against 
 them by contradiction, combativeness, or pride. Vanity 
 stimulates men to make the most of themselves, and helps 
 them to keep up their individuality. Jealousy pricks them 
 to hold their own against rivals ; revenge to make good again 
 on an enemy the injury he has done them ; while sensual 
 desire, working after its own natural laws, stimulates them 
 to perpetuate this individuation by means of offspring 
 having the like individuality, and so prevents things from 
 sinking back again into that flat and undiversified desert 
 of uniformity, out of which they had originally to struggle. 
 And so, too, if we take the more positive and active sins of 
 lying, stealing, murder, adultery, and the like, we may see 
 that here also no new element has been introduced, but 
 all are ways of aggrandizing ourselves and our own indi- 
 viduality at the expense of others ; thus overstepping those 
 conditions of fair play and justice which, in a limited world,, 
 are necessary to enable each to maintain his own indi- 
 viduality, and to escape being absorbed or annihilated by 
 the other. If we tell lies, for example, we secure for our- 
 selves a point of vantage which does not legitimately 
 belong to us ; if we steal, we do the same ; and so, too, if we 
 commit murder or adultery. Again, if we consider what 
 the theologians would call ' sin in the inmost members,' 
 lusts and desires that may go no farther than the mind of 
 the person entertaining them, stopping short before they 
 come to action envy, impurity of thought, evil-wishing, 
 suspicion, covetousness, selfishness, worldly-mindedness 
 and the like we shall find that at bottom they are only 
 imaginative modes of protecting or aggrandizing our own 
 individuality; although, if not restrained, they may keep
 
 SUPERNATURALISM I'ERSUS SCIENCE. 115 
 
 pricking the imagination (where they can form infinite 
 combinations) until, to relieve itself, it forces men into all 
 sorts of unnatural cruelties and crimes ; or they may so 
 monopolize consciousness as to weaken the authority of 
 those high and noble aspirations which we feel by their 
 very quality to be the real and true ends of our being. 
 But perhaps the strongest evidence that what we call Evil 
 or Sin is merely the untempered and excessive exercise of 
 activities that are necessary to the progress and develop- 
 ment of the world (and therefore has not that positive 
 quality which would justify us in assuming a special Devil 
 to account for it), is to be found in this most pregnant fact 
 that Society has legitimatized and provided for the 
 gratification, within due limits, of those very activities 
 which in their excess constitute Sin, but which, within these 
 limits, cease to be sinful. If your sensual passions are 
 strong, for example, you may marry, not commit adultery ; 
 if your desire for money, for worldly goods, and prosperities 
 is keen, you may work for them, not steal them, or be 
 covetous of the goods of others ; if you have a high pride 
 or ambition, a thirst for fame, you may attain it by good 
 services done, or by the laudable exercise of your talents, 
 not by envy and detraction. If you wish to be equal with 
 the man who has wronged you, you can appeal to the law, 
 not have recourse to murder or private revenge. And 
 thus it is that the very same thoughts, passions, and 
 impulses, w r hich in excess have the special and positive 
 quality of Sin attached to them, and so are believed to 
 require a Devil to explain them, when exercised in 
 moderation, have no such positive quality, and require no 
 such Deity. If it be urged, as by the old ascetics (and 
 naturally enough in their stage of culture), that even this 
 normal and legitimate exercise of the appetites, passions, 
 and desires is Sin, then all mental and bodily .activities 
 whatever, that are not directly and immediately connected 
 with the highest ends of our being, must be Sin, however 
 much they may be shown to be remotely and indirectly so
 
 n6 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 connected ; a view of life which would forbid us the 
 normal enjoyment of our food, as much as the normal 
 enjoyment of our ambition, emulation, or pride, and which, 
 if carried into effect by the whole world a test which 
 any doctrine professing to be at once true and universal 
 ought to stand would speedily bring the world to an end. 
 The Asceticism of the early Christian centuries in Europe 
 was the normal and legitimate result of the Pauline form 
 of Supernaturalism which then prevailed, and which, in 
 theory at least, is held by all Christians at the present time. 
 But the fact that no Christian scheme, except perhaps 
 Catholicism, now recognises Asceticism in practice, proves 
 that the theory from which it sprang is felt to be untenable 
 at the present time. 
 
 But if the Evil in the world and the Sin in the heart are 
 due merely to the excessive activity of functions both 
 good and necessary in themselves, and so do not require a 
 Devil to account for them, does it not follow, the Super- 
 naturalist may ask, that the Good that is in the world and 
 man, is also due merely to the activity of other functions 
 of the brain or mind, and so does not require a good deity 
 or God to account for it ? To this I would reply, that 
 when once, by a wide oversight of the world, we perceive 
 that Sin and Evil are not ends in themselves, but are only 
 means and instruments of that Individuation which inheres 
 in the very Ground-plan of Nature ; and when we see 
 farther, that, as I shall show in a succeeding chapter, the 
 real end is the elevation, enlargement, and expansion of 
 the individual mind (truth, love, beauty, and the like 
 being positive qualities, and carrying in their own natures 
 the evidence that they are the true ends of being), we are 
 bound by the very necessities of thought to refer those 
 ends of the world to a Supreme Power commensurate 
 with them in nature and attribute a Power whom we must 
 regard as the true source of all that is within us and with- 
 out us, including those very means and instruments 
 which in excess produce what we call evil, but which
 
 SUPERNATURALISM VERSUS SCIENCE. 117 
 
 are nevertheless indirectly conducive to the great ends 
 of being. 
 
 But whatever may be the nature of Good and Evil in 
 themselves, the contradiction between them, it will be 
 urged, still exists to cause discord and division within the 
 soul, and provision must be somewhere found for restoring' 
 harmony. This is quite true, but mark how, after the above 
 analysis, the terms of the Problem of Human Destiny, 
 to which we have to find the solution, have changed. 
 Instead of being, as the Supernaturalist has it : Given 
 the inward contradiction and discord in man's soul, caused 
 by Sin and the hold which the evil spirit or Devil has over 
 him, how, by the supernatural agency of the good spirit or 
 God, so to reinforce man against the Devil and himself, 
 as to bring harmony and rest to the soul the terms of 
 the problem are shifted to another plane altogether, and 
 become as follows : Given the preponderance of the 
 means and instruments of life (which become Sin and Evil 
 by that very preponderance) over the true ends of life the 
 enlargement, elevation, and expansion of our higher nature 
 to find in the Mind or the World (the Supreme Power 
 being always in the background of consciousness) those 
 agencies that will enable us to bring Good out of Evil (and 
 will so remove the inward contradiction and discord), that 
 will give us hope and assurance of final victory, and, in 
 joyous endeavour, harmony and rest. To the problem 
 thus differently stated to meet the intellectual and spiritual 
 wants of modern times, the remainder of this book will, 
 I hope, help to furnish an answer. For the present, I 
 will only say generally, that the great agent on which 
 we must rely is Science, by which I understand that 
 knowledge of the Laws of the World and of the Human 
 Mind, which (these laws being our sole revelation of the 
 will and intention of that Supreme Power, who, as we 
 saw, is working out in Time the elevation and expansion 
 of man) alone can enable us to work in harmony with 
 the Supreme Power, and towards the same great ends.
 
 j!8 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 It is Science that, by its application to life, has destroyed 
 the two great scourges of the early world, famine and 
 pestilence, or greatly diminished their frequency and se- 
 verity. It is Science that, by its application to the arts, 
 has given us all the comforts, conveniences, and luxuries of 
 life. It is Science that, by its effects on religious dogmas, 
 has indirectly gone a long way in destroying those 
 religious persecutions, those international hatreds, and 
 religious wars, which the modern world regards with 
 almost as much horror as the pestilence itself. Again, if, 
 as I shall endeavour to show in the next chapter, it is by 
 the pressure of a more enlightened and moral Public 
 Opinion a public opinion that requires ever finer and 
 finer ideals over the individual mind and conscience, that 
 the grosser forms of evil are coerced, made gradually less 
 and less habitual, until at last they die out naturally, this 
 more sensitive Public Opinion itself grows out of wider 
 ideas and ameliorated social conditions; and these in their 
 turn result from those improved material conditions which 
 Science and the arts have been gradually bringing about. 
 And lastly, as, by a legitimate exercise of the idea of causa- 
 tion, we get (as a normal deduction from the plan of the 
 World and the Human Mind) the belief in a Supreme 
 Power, working slowly and steadily for high ends, and in a 
 predetermined course, athwart the manifold obstructions, 
 contradictions, and confusions of Time : it is this conviction 
 which, by rousing into enthusiasm all the higher and nobler 
 parts of our nature, harmonizes the mind, removes the 
 internal contradictions, and gives us inward harmony and 
 peace. 
 
 In thinking over these opposite views of the World, as 
 represented by Supernaturalism and Science respectively, 
 I am conscious that, to many minds, especially those of 
 pious and devout tendencies, there will be more comfort 
 and real consolation in believing that the Great Cause of 
 All actually came down to this world, assumed a human 
 form, took on Himself our sins and miseries, died for us,
 
 SUPERNATURALISM VERSUS SCIENCE. ng 
 
 and succeeded in triumphantly vanquishing Sin and the 
 Devil for us, than in representing Him to themselves as 
 working more or less inscrutably behind a veil, and reveal- 
 ing Himself only through the Laws of the World and the 
 Human Mind. The mind of man is so constituted that it 
 is only by a definite personality, or what can be conceived 
 as a definite personality, that it can be deeply moved, 
 whether to sympathy or aversion, love or fear. I have no 
 doubt that the contemplation of the sun and moon, of the 
 rivers, woods and fountains, was attended by a much 
 more vivid and active sensation of love and reverence 
 when they were believed to be the abodes of deities, or the 
 haunts of sweet nymphs and goddesses, than now, when 
 they are beheld in their naked reality ; and, on the other 
 hand, that tempests and comets, gloomy caverns and old 
 witches, were regarded with a more profound feeling of 
 ;awe and aversion when they were believed to be the 
 manifestations of divine anger, or the abodes of evil 
 spirits, than now, when they are regarded as only natural 
 phenomena, untenanted abodes, or harmless old women. 
 I can well imagine that Luther threw his ink-pot at the 
 Devil with much more animus, believing that he saw him 
 actually before him and trying to tempt him, than he 
 would have done had he believed that what he saw was 
 merely a spectral illusion, and that the thoughts which 
 rose in his mind were merely the normal affections of his 
 own mind and brain, working according to their proper 
 and natural laws. But to tacitly assume, as the Super- 
 naturalist does, that the power any particular ' scheme of 
 salvation ' has to satisfy the feelings of a certain number of 
 persons, can afford any presumption in favour of its truth, 
 especially when, like the legends of the saints and martyrs, 
 it has taken such hold of the imagination, that men are too 
 pleased and comforted by it to sift the evidence for or 
 against it, is childish and absurd. A man might as well 
 assume that the pleasure he felt on hearing that an im- 
 mense fortune had been left him, was presumptive evidence
 
 I20 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 of the truth of the report ; or a woman assume that, because 
 the complete harmony of her whole nature would be best 
 subserved by the marriage-state, therefore the particular 
 man who pleased and satisfied her imagination and 
 heart, must necessarily be the one intended by nature for 
 her. It is true that any longing or natural yearning must 
 have its natural satisfaction somewhere, but not that the 
 gratification felt in any special case is evidence that we 
 have found the precise satisfaction alone intended for us ;: 
 as hunger is presumptive evidence that food is good for us,, 
 but not that any particular kind of food is the only kind 
 that is good for us; or as the sexual feeling is presumptive 
 evidence that it is not good for man to be alone, but not 
 that some particular person is the only one that it is good 
 for him to marry. In the same way, the religious sen- 
 timent is presumptive evidence of the existence of an 
 Unseen Power working behind phenomena, but not that 
 any special conception we may have formed of the person 
 and attributes of that Power is the correct one. The 
 state of our feelings, then, cannot be presumptive evidence 
 in favour of the truth of any special doctrine, when once 
 that doctrine has become discredited by a-deeper insight 
 into the World and the Human Mind. To sit harmonizing 
 .the discordant intrusions of the sense of Sin, by the intro- 
 duction into the mind of sweet and beautiful personalities 
 and affections is easy, but unfruitful ; to laboriously strive 
 to know the Laws of the World and of the Human Mind, 
 and, with the sense of a Supreme Power above you, to go- 
 out into the harsh world and strive to further them, and to- 
 act in accordance with them, is difficult, but fruitful and 
 ennobling. 
 
 And thus it is that even the highest, purest, and most 
 harmonious form of Supernaturalism that has yet appeared,, 
 the one least obnoxious to Modern Thought, and which 
 looked so reasonable at the outset, and indeed was entirely 
 satisfactory, harmonious, and complete at the time of 
 St. Paul, can only be held at the present day, by deliberately
 
 SUPERNATURALISM I--F.RSCS SCIENCE. 121 
 
 neglecting one of the greatest Laws of the Human Mind 
 the law by which, when the natural causes of things are 
 unknown, men are bound to refer them to the agencies of 
 wills like their own. 
 
 Before proceeding to consider still farther the general 
 divergencies between Supernaturalism and Science be- 
 tween those who would solve the problem of life by means 
 of Supernatural Agents brought down into the arena of 
 human life, and those who would do so by means of the 
 Laws of the World reverently learned and conformed to ; 
 wif h the recognition of a Supreme Power working through 
 them alone to the accomplishment of His great ends 
 perhaps I may be allowed to recapitulate and still farther 
 enforce what I have already said. We saw, then, that 
 both Supernaturalist and Scientist pay homage to the two 
 sides of our nature Feeling and Thought but that the 
 Supernaturalist attaches more importance to the state of 
 his feelings, than to the true laws and connexions of things ; 
 while the Scientist, on the contrary, looks first to see that 
 he has got the true laws and connexions of things, and 
 afterwards considers how they are adapted to meet the 
 wants and desires of his heart. And we saw that it is 
 from this original difference in the stress laid on Sentiment 
 and Thought respectively, that all those after-consequences 
 flow, which I shall now endeavour briefly to trace. 
 
 I am, of course, aware, and shall in a later chapter en- 
 deavour to show, that the intellectual framework of Religion 
 is constructed or evolved along certain definite intellectual 
 lines and principles ; but what I mean when I say that the 
 Supernaturalist lays more stress on Emotion or Sentiment 
 than on Thought is, that when once religions have been 
 constructed, credence is generally asked for them or given 
 to them, by reason of their power to satisfy certain longings 
 of the heart, rather than on any purely intellectual grounds. 
 That this is the tendency of all Supernaturalisms may be 
 gathered from the expressed opinion of so acute a thinker 
 as Cardinal Newman, who says : " Popular religion is
 
 I2 2 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 founded in one way or another on the sense of sin." And 
 again, "The sense of the Infinite Goodness of God, and of 
 our own misery and need, would, in those who feel keenly, 
 be sufficient to create a belief in any religion offering itself 
 where there was no rival in the field." And this is as good 
 as to say that the state of the sentiments and emotions 
 is of such primary importance, that the fact that any 
 religion would harmonize them, would be sufficient of 
 itself to create a belief in that religion. Now, one would 
 know beforehand, that any Religion or Scheme of the 
 World that appealed to Feeling only as the test of its truth, 
 must be hollow and uncertain. For it is the very law of 
 our being that what we are to believe must in the last 
 resort be decided by the Intellect alone, and that only 
 after the Intellect has shown us what is to be believed, are 
 our Feelings justified in offering response or protest. The 
 Conscience, for example, is a feeling, but what is right or 
 wrong under any given circumstances must be left for the 
 Judgment to determine, after taking in all the conditions 
 of the case. It is the Judgment, too, that must determine 
 to whom our conscience owes allegiance, whether to the 
 men and women about us, or to the Deity whom we have 
 offended, or both. Love, too, is a feeling, but whom or 
 what we ought to love, is a matter entirely for the judgment 
 to decide. But the Supernaturalist's hope of determin- 
 ing the truth of any particular religion by its effect on his 
 feelings, is as absurd as to attempt to determine, from the 
 effect any incident or story has on our feelings, whether 
 it is true or not. And the first result that follows from 
 this excess of emphasis laid on Feeling is, that no scheme 
 of Supernaturalism can ever become universal. Starting 
 from the Conscience and the sense of Sin, every age or 
 nation, according to its stage of culture, would require a 
 different form of religion to satisfy it. And there being no 
 background of demonstrable fact by which to test the 
 truth of any religion, this would have to be determined by 
 the power each had to harmonize the feelings and meet the
 
 SUPERNATURALISM VERSUS SCIENCE. 123 
 
 wants of man. And as every people and nation receives 
 equal comfort and satisfaction from its own belief, ritual, 
 form of worship and the like, there is no reason why the 
 Mahommedan should relinquish his religion for Buddhism, 
 or the Buddhist, for Mahommedanism or Christianity. 
 On the contrary, as it is largely a matter of personal taste 
 and comfort, what satisfies the conscience and longing of 
 the Brahmin, will not satisfy the Buddhist ; what satisfies 
 the conscience of the Catholic, will not satisfy the Pro- 
 testant ; and what suits the old school of Calvinism, will 
 not suit the latest school of Broad Christianity. The 
 fact is, Supernaturalism, by its very nature (as taking its 
 stand rather on Conscience and Feeling than on demon- 
 strable Truth, and so making that true which harmonizes 
 and satisfies the feelings), would, if not counteracted, divide 
 men down to the last man. For as there are no two men 
 whose feelings and personal wants are in every way 
 precisely alike, so when a religion is run out to its full 
 detail of doctrine and ritual, there is no reason, as indeed 
 may be seen in the multiplication of Protestant sects, why 
 any two persons should feel precisely alike about it ; and 
 nothing, therefore, to prevent men splitting into as many 
 opinions as there are individuals, were it not indeed for that 
 sheep-like tendency to go in herds, which is as characteristic 
 of men as their tendency to differ in detail. And, more- 
 over, as each and all of these concrete Religions and 
 Schemes of Salvation involve the acceptance of some fact 
 or facts alleged to have occurred in the past, their truth 
 can never be brought to an actual test, so as to convince 
 dissentients or unbelievers ; and therefore, as I have shown 
 in the chapter on Cardinal Newman, they can command 
 no true and legitimate assent, but are inferences only, of 
 more or less probability. Indeed, so deeply does Cardinal 
 Newman himself feel the difficulty of gaining assent to the 
 Evidences of Christianity, that he candidly admits that, 
 were it not for the support they receive from the power of 
 Christianity to meet all the wants of our nature, it would
 
 124 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 be almost impossible. Here, for example, are the beliefs 
 and feelings which he makes a sine qua non in the enquirer, 
 before he can hope that the evidences for the truth of 
 Christianity will carry conviction with them : " a belief 
 and perception of the Divine Presence, a recognition of 
 His attributes, and an admiration of His person as viewed 
 under them, a conviction of the worth of the soul and of 
 the reality and momentousness of the Unseen World, an 
 understanding that in proportion as we partake in our own 
 persons of the attributes which we admire in Him, we are 
 dear to Him, a consciousness on the contrary that we are 
 far from partaking them, a consequent insight into our own 
 guilt and misery, an eager hope of reconciliation to Him, 
 a desire to know and love Him, and a sensitive looking 
 out in all that happens, whether in the course of Nature or 
 of human life, for tokens, if such there be, of His bestowing 
 on us what we so greatly need." That is to say, certain 
 beliefs and states of feeling are made the grounds for 
 giving assent to doctrines and facts which, unsupported,, 
 would not of themselves carry conviction ; and this 
 illustrates one of the central fallacies of Supernaturalism, 
 the belief, viz., that the satisfaction of the feelings is proof of 
 the truth of the doctrine. 
 
 Again, the same scheme which in one age of the world 
 was found perfectly credible by a particular class of minds, 
 in another age is quite incredible to the same class of 
 minds. The miracles of the Old and New Testament, for 
 example, were perfectly credible to men living at the tim& 
 these books were written, for at that time men naturally 
 expected miraculous interpositions, to eke out the explana- 
 tion of occurrences of which the natural laws were then 
 unknown. The like miracles would be perfectly credible 
 even at the present day to the inhabitants of India, and 
 for the same reason. But these miracles are discredited 
 by the cultured minds of Europe to-day, simply because 
 they run counter to that order and uniformity of the laws 
 of Nature which with them is the first article of faith.
 
 SUPERNATURALISM VERSUS SCIENCE. 125 
 
 Even within living memory there have been great changes 
 of belief in regard to most of the leading tenets of 
 Christianity ; articles that fifty years ago were considered 
 essential to the faith having been either dropped altogether 
 since that time, or so modified and defaced as to be 
 unrecognisable ; although, owing to the absolute and 
 unchangeable character which attaches to Revelation, 
 obnoxious doctrines cannot be openly discarded when the 
 age has outgrown them, but must be silently put out of 
 the way and allowed to pine and linger until they at last 
 slip quietly into oblivion. 
 
 What grieves me most, personally, in the perpetuation of 
 Supernaturalism among cultivated men is, that it splits the 
 little band of Spiritual Thinkers into two unsympathetic, 
 and more or less secretly hostile, camps. Laying so much 
 more stress on Emotion and Feeling than on purely 
 intellectual Perception, the Supernaturalist naturally looks 
 at the phenomena of the world more with an eye to their 
 effects on Religious Feeling, than as pure Truth, entirely 
 disengaged from any special forms of emotion whatever. 
 And hence the tendency I have so often noticed, in even 
 the most intelligent and cultured Supernaturalists, to 
 disparage not only the men of Science, but the great 
 Spiritual Thinkers who, like Emerson, for example, regard 
 all the Laws of the World and of Human Life with equal 
 sympathy, loving them for themselves alone, without 
 regard to their special bearings on piety and devotion. It 
 is a characteristic of all schools of Supernaturalism, 
 whether they be Oriental, Ascetic, Catholic, or broad and 
 enlightened Protestant, that their sympathies go almost 
 entirely with those thinkers who, like Newman, have most 
 subtly and acutely traced the effects of the varied interests 
 of the world on contemplation and devotion. So strong, 
 indeed, is this tendency of Supernaturalists to sympathize 
 only with those Laws of the Mind which bear directly or 
 indirectly on piety and devotion, that I remember hearing 
 one of the most eminent lay representatives of the Broad
 
 126 A NEW ORGANON. 
 
 School of Christianity, a man too of the finest culture and 
 literary taste, remark in public that if he were restricted for 
 a length of time to only one book, and had to make choice 
 between Newman and Shakspeare, he would prefer New- 
 man. I was not indeed surprised at this ; but it confirmed 
 my oft-expressed opinion of the secret sympathies of 
 Supernaturalism, in spite of superficial appearances to the 
 contrary. I have noticed, too, that the type of mind which 
 is characteristic of the Supernaturalist, cares comparatively 
 little for the great operative Laws of the Mind, but delights 
 to philosophize on such problems as the relation that 
 Shame bears to Morality, for example, the effects of 
 Prejudice on Religious Belief, whether the wish to believe 
 tends to make us believe, or the reverse, and the like. 
 
 As a result of this narrow range of intellectual sympa- 
 thies, there is in Supernaturalism no tendency to expansion 
 or development. When once the Supernaturalist has 
 made up his mind, as he has at the present time, that the 
 Civilization of Europe to-day is due to the Spirit of Christ, 
 which has all along been working in the minds of men, 
 athwart all impediments of war, bloodshed, and crime, he 
 can go no farther ; and you will look in vain to him for any 
 finer analysis of the mingled elements which have gone to- 
 make up that great result. Believing that Civilization is the 
 result of the Spirit which Christ promised to leave in the 
 world after he had gone, he secretly discourages all 
 accurate and scientific investigations, founded on observed 
 laws of the world and the human mind, into the respective 
 parts played in it by various forms of Government, by 
 different Material and Social Conditions, by religious 
 Dogmas, and by Science and the Arts respectively; much 
 in the same way as the Metaphysical Biologists, with their 
 * vital principle ' and the like, stood in the way of a finer 
 and more accurate analysis of physiological relations ; or 
 as those mediaeval physicians who, believing that diseases 
 were due to evil spirits within the body, prescribed 
 those parts of frogs, beetles, and spiders which they
 
 SUPERNATURALISM I-KRSCX SCIENCE. 127 
 
 thought contained spirits antagonistic to those they 
 wished to expel, and felt no desire for any finer and more 
 scientific analysis of the real causes of disease. 
 
 And, lastly, however much the Supernaturalist may have 
 minimized the difficulties which stand in the way of the 
 acceptance of his scheme, by removing the more glaring 
 -anomalies the miracles, the plenary inspiration, the 
 Mosaic account of creation, and the like he still is 
 obliged to bring the Supernatural Power on to the world's 
 stage, and to remove Him again from it ; and therefore, 
 however much he may desire to keep the miraculous in 
 the background, in deference to modern habits of 
 thought (as the slaughter-house is kept in the background 
 in deference to modern refinement), he cannot dispense 
 with at least three miracles the Miraculous Conception,, 
 the Resurrection, and the Ascension. And although he 
 maintains that for so great an object as the salvation of 
 man these departures from the ordinary laws of Nature 
 are justifiable, and quite credible, nevertheless the fact that 
 he feels it almost necessary to apologize for retaining them, 
 shows how far he feels himself to be drifting away from 
 modern habits of thought. And furthermore, when we 
 remember that the fact itself of an Incarnation could only 
 have been entirely believable when Science was in its 
 infancy, it is evident that the Supernaturalist, in not 
 perceiving this, has neglected the effect on religious belief 
 of that Law of the Mind whereby, when the natural causes 
 of phenomena are unknown, they are attributed to wills 
 like our own ; and so leaves his Theory of the World 
 stranded and dismantled on the shore of the ever-receding 
 tide of Medievalism. 
 
 If we turn now to a religion that is founded on the Laws 
 of the World and the Human Mind on Science physical 
 and mental we shall see that it is free from all .the 
 objections I have-just ~rged against the religion of the 
 Supernaturalist. Instead of laying more emphasis on 
 Feeling than on Thought, and making that religion true
 
 12 8 A NEW ORGAN ON. 
 
 which harmonizes them, it lays the stress on the real and 
 true relations of things, and would make the feelings adapt 
 to these relations. Instead of, like Supernaturalism, tend- 
 ing to divide men down to the last man, owing to the 
 difficulty of finding any two with tastes and feelings quite 
 alike, it tends to unite men to the last man, owing to the 
 fact that every new Law of Nature, once verified and 
 registered, becomes a bond of union among men in 
 opinion and practice. For the truth of its doctrines it 
 does not, like Supernaturalism, depend on whether certain 
 alleged historical facts are true or not, but rests on laws 
 which can be verified at any time or in any place, and 
 which are true alike yesterday, to-day, and for ever. 
 It can, therefore,- command a full and complete assent 
 of the mind, and is not attended by the unsecure feeling 
 of vague and uncertain probability. Unlike Super- 
 naturalism, again, which is constantly dropping along the 
 line of its course articles that were once essential to the 
 faith, or -modifying thenr~Tmttt~tiiey-afe^TmfecogTrrzable, a 
 Religion founded on Science changes, not by dropping old 
 fictions, but by adding new truths. It is capable, therefore, 
 of endless development as the discovery of new laws 
 enables us to work it up into finer and finer issues. In 
 its interpretation of the World it does not remain fixed 
 and rooted, Tor lay claim to that finality and absolute 
 character which, by the necessity of the case, must 
 characterize all religions founded on Revelation :) it does 
 not narrow all human interests, all the varied play of 
 human life and passion, down to their effects on piety and 
 devotion ; but, on the contrary, it is open to the reception 
 of all Laws whatever Physical, Mental, Spiritual. In a 
 word, it does not, like Supernaturalism, repress, but gives 
 range and expansion to the human spirit. It makes no 
 demands on our faith, by asking us to accept miracles in 
 any form, and so, unlike Supernaturalism, has no tendency 
 to split the mind in twain, to set Reason against Faith, and 
 Experience against Authority. \It recognizes the law of
 
 SUPERNATURALISM VERSUS SCIENCE. 129- 
 
 Wills and Causes, and so, while setting aside all Super- 
 naturalisms whatever, sympathizes with them, under- 
 stands them, and accounts for them. But enough of 
 these contrasts, which might be carried on indefinitely,, 
 and which I have introduced here to bring to a focus the 
 irreconcileable differences between Supernaturalism and 
 Science, in their ways of looking at the world and human 
 life; feeling, with Carlyle, that until the "Exodus from 
 Houndsditch " is satisfactorily accomplished, there can be 
 no single and undivided effort made to forward the great 
 cause of Civilization and Progress. In future chapters I 
 shall endeavour to make good in detail much of what has 
 here been unavoidably left indefinite and vague.
 
 PART IL-THE GOAL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HOW IS JUSTICE DONE? 
 
 BEFORE we can estimate the effects of Religions, forms of 
 Government, and Material and Social Conditions generally, 
 on human welfare, it is necessary that we should first 
 determine the great moral end which these exist to realise, 
 the great ideal towards which each step in legislation 
 should be an approximation. By many this will be re- 
 garded as of little more practical moment than the 
 question of the climate of Jupiter, or the nature of the 
 sun's atmosphere. It is generally agreed that, besides 
 the primary duty of keeping order and administering 
 justice, Government exists to promote what is called the 
 general good material, moral, and intellectual. But 
 what the general good specially is, or how it is best 
 promoted, is a point on which there are the widest 
 differences of opinion differences that disclose them- 
 selves the moment any great legislative measure is 
 brought forward for discussion. For while all admit 
 that there is an ideal which government should strive to 
 realise, and towards which legislation should be directed, 
 prejudice, passion, and self-interest so enter into men's 
 practical conception of this ideal, that unanimity in regard 
 to it seems almost unattainable. Hence the necessity of 
 finding some Principle which, by its harmony with the 
 Constitution of the World, shall have not only the force of
 
 HOW IS JUSTICE DONE? 13! 
 
 Science, but the sanction of Religion ; and which shall 
 thereby give focus and direction to the conflicting efforts 
 made for the public good. Not that I imagine that were 
 such a principle established beyond even the reach of 
 controversy, the world would be in any great haste to 
 carry it into effect. Indeed, were it as clear as gravitation, 
 and as demonstrable as the propositions of Euclid, men 
 would still prefer to follow their own particular aims, 
 interests, and ambitions; for if self-interest could not 
 blind them to the truth of the principle, it would at least 
 persuade them to disregard it. A good instance of this is 
 seen in the Christian religion. What religion was ever 
 more firmly believed ? What was ever upheld by more 
 powerful incentives and deterrents ? What could boast 
 of a truer and nobler ideal than that contained in its 
 central precept of loving your neighbour as yourself? 
 And yet at what time during the nineteen centuries of 
 its existence have men preferred the welfare of their 
 neighbour to their own, or when smitten on one cheek 
 have turned the other also ? The truth is, there is no way 
 in which you can make the Moral Sentiment supreme of 
 itself alone ; no way in which you can make the pyramid 
 of human life, which rests on a broad basis of Self-interest, 
 stand on its apex of Self-renunciation, of public and im- 
 personal effort. I do not, of course, ignore the individual 
 conscience. I do not doubt its vast influence on human 
 life, nor deny its supremacy over individual minds, and 
 during pregnant crises of personal or national life. I 
 merely observe that it is naturally weaker than the selfish 
 instincts of our nature, and unless reinforced from without 
 must bend before the solicitations of self-interest. The 
 result is, that, if left to themselves, men would push their 
 own interests to the detriment of the general weal ; and 
 life would become a scramble, in which justice and right 
 would be at the mercy of brute force or individual 
 caprice. The question then is how has Justice been 
 done in the world, how has Civilization been advanced
 
 132 
 
 THE GOAL. 
 
 the hardships of life ameliorated, and the general good' 
 promoted ? In a word, how, as Carlyle says, out of a 
 universe of knaves to get an honesty from their united 
 action ? The answer, in a word, is by the pressure put 
 on the moral nature of each individual by the general 
 conscience of the community. But the way in which this 
 is done is so indirect, and the consequences that flow from 
 it are so far-reaching, both on thought and action, that I 
 am tempted to devote a few words to its consideration. 
 
 Notwithstanding the preponderance of the lower in- 
 stincts of our nature, and their tendency to overpower 
 the higher sentiments, each man has within him an Ideal 
 of Right and Justice, to which in his heart of hearts he 
 does homage, and which he longs to see realised in the 
 world. And although he habitually falls below this Ideal 
 in his own life and character, it nevertheless serves as the 
 gauge and standard by which he measures his neighbour.. 
 It differs, of course, in different ages and nations, and in 
 different stages of civilization and culture, but for persons 
 living at the same time, in the same community, it is 
 practically the same. Held thus in common by many 
 minds, it takes form and embodiment, not only in that 
 code of Public Law which regulates the civil and com- 
 mercial intercourse of a people, but also in that unwritten 
 code which takes cognisance of those social misdemeanours 
 which lie beyond the reach of positive law. In this way 
 it becomes the Public Conscience the organ of Right and 
 Justice, before which all bow, and to which all appeaL 
 Now it is by the pressure put on the moral nature of the 
 individual by this Public Conscience this Public Sentiment 
 that the triumph of justice is secured. It is this Public 
 Conscience which restrains men when they are tempted ta. 
 push their own interests to the detriment of their fellows. 
 Rising from the flower and ideal of each mind, like a 
 refreshing aroma, it envelops the community in an at- 
 mosphere of justice and right, which all inhale, and from 
 which all renew their strength and virtue. In a certain
 
 HOW IS JUSTICE DONE? 133 
 
 sense it may be called the good genius of man, for it is 
 the power by which he is enabled to lift himself above 
 himself. All have within them the Ideal of which this 
 Public Conscience is the embodiment ; all alike fall below 
 it in the rough conflicts and temptations of the world ; 
 but when it looks out on us in sympathy or anger from 
 the eyes and hearts of our fellow-men, we bend in awe 
 before the august manifestation, and subordinate our in- 
 clinations to its dictates. We may find illustrations of 
 this truth in the commonest incidents. In street fights, 
 for example, I have noticed that the combatants, when 
 thoroughly roused, have a tendency to press their ad- 
 vantages to a point beyond the bounds of right, and that 
 they are only restrained by the consciousness of being 
 surrounded by a ring of spectators who will see fair play 
 done. In cases like this, the justice is not in the com- 
 batants, but in the spectators. In the combatants it is 
 
 overpowered for the moment by passion and self-interest ; 
 in the ring of spectators, free and unbiassed, it sits en- 
 throned. Next day, perhaps, the combatants themselves 
 may stand around as spectators at a similar exhibition, 
 
 .and will help to see justice done in like manner. Now, 
 this street fight, with its ring of spectators, exhibits in 
 miniature the way in which Justice is done in this world. 
 In all men it is latent and potential ; but it is active and 
 
 effective only in that ring of Public Sentiment, which 
 surrounds the conflicts of persons and classes, and to 
 which all tacitly appeal. Each of the persons who make 
 up this sentiment is, perhaps, a frail and imperfect creature, 
 
 .and he that is without' sin may well cast the first stone; 
 
 .and yet each contains within himself the Ideal, which, 
 when embodied in Moral and Social Law, is not only the 
 greatest incentive to virtue, but the greatest deterrent from 
 vice. It has been observed that men who habitually 
 break the Ten Commandments, both in word and action, 
 
 .and who are fully aware of their own shortcomings, will 
 nevertheless hurl these same commandments at the heads
 
 i 34 THE GOAL. 
 
 of their erring neighbours. Their neighbours return the 
 compliment, \vith interest perhaps, and the result is that all 
 are kept up to a higher standard of conduct and life. The 
 critic who is incapable of realising his own ideal, either in 
 prose or verse, nevertheless, by his vigilance, helps to keep 
 the lines and sentiments of the great poet from falling 
 into that slovenly condition to which otherwise they would 
 be prone. Even the tea-table gossip of old women of 
 both sexes has its beneficent aspects, and in the economy 
 of Nature is not to be despised. The truth is, no matter 
 how high a man's aims may be, unless he is watched by 
 the general sentiment of right in the community, he is 
 almost sure to run into selfishness and injustice. Indeed, 
 the more he is wrapped up in his object, and the greater 
 the ardour with which he pursues it, the greater tendency 
 has he to disregard the means by which it is attained, and 
 to select them for their fitness and expediency rather than 
 their strict justice. When I see a noble cause advocated 
 with power and enthusiasm by men who employ means un- 
 worthy of their great argument, I say to myself, these men 
 are not necessarily insincere, but rather in the heat of the 
 contest, and in their ardour to reach their end, they have 
 been betrayed into meanness and injustice ; and so, by the 
 side of their pure and lofty ideal, appear poor and deformed. 
 Recognising this, and perceiving the impossibility of 
 carrying any great work unsullied through the storms of 
 obloquy and opposition with which it is almost sure to be 
 assailed, men like Carlyle have been tempted once for all 
 to acquit their heroes of many delinquencies, because the 
 ends at which they aimed were great and noble. Hence 
 the one-sided estimates we have of Frederick the Great, 
 Mirabeau, and Frederick Wilhelm. Religion herself, even, 
 the most sacred of all 'causes, is brought into disfavour by 
 the ardour of her votaries ; her cause suffering daily from 
 those sectarian wranglings which are as unseemly and 
 contemptible as the combats of flies in the air, and which,, 
 the more fiercely they are contested the more unchristian
 
 HOW IS JUSTICE DONE? 135 
 
 is the spirit in which they are waged. If men are thus 
 betrayed into selfishness and injustice when in pursuit of 
 ends that are public and impersonal, much more so will 
 they be when in pursuit of their own private and selfish 
 interests merely. Indeed, were there no Moral Atmosphere, 
 no Public Sentiment, in which the Ideal was embodied as 
 an active and ever-present force, victory would follow the 
 line of greatest power, and Society would be given over to 
 the arbitrament of brute force. But the ring of men and 
 women, whose interests in each particular case are not 
 directly affected, stand around as representatives of the 
 Ideal, of the True, and by the weight they throw into the 
 scale in the unequal contest between Might and Right, 
 Justice is made to prevail. 
 
 From the above considerations it will naturally follow, 
 that if any one Class or Order in the State is sufficient of 
 itself to overpower all the rest combined, there can be 
 no effective Public Conscience ; and legislation accordingly 
 will follow the interests of the dominant power. The 
 history of the world has familiarized us with the spectacle 
 of autocrats subordinating the welfare of nations to their 
 imperious wills. At Rome, where the personal whims of 
 the emperors were erected into imperial decrees, justice 
 had to come, if it came at all, as a gift, a condescension ; 
 mercy and charity, as sputters or bubbles merely in the 
 full-blooded tide of imperial passion. In England, from 
 the Revolution of '88 to the time of the first Reform Bill, 
 the Aristocracy were the supreme and predominant power 
 in the State, and legislation accordingly followed the 
 interests of that powerful body. But since that time the 
 preponderance of power has been in the hands of the 
 Middle classes, and legislation in consequence (as we may 
 see in the repeal of the Corn Laws, in the Education Act, 
 and in the Irish Land Act) has been busied with attempts 
 to restore the balance of justice. While then the effective 
 organ of justice, viz., Public Sentiment, is absent in auto- 
 cracies and oligarchies, it is present and active in Parlia-
 
 , 3 6 THE GOAL. 
 
 mentary Governments, where majorities rule, and all the 
 various interests of the nation are fairly represented. For 
 although members are returned to represent interests 
 primarily those of their party, and secondly those of one 
 or other industry or locality and legislation in consequence 
 has a tendency, as we so constantly see, to follow the line of 
 power rather than of justice ; nevertheless, there is always 
 a ring of outlying members, disinterested, conscientious, 
 and backed by public feeling, who stand around as a 
 palladium to guard the right, a barrier over which in- 
 justice cannot ride, a court not to be bribed or bent. 
 The House of Lords, even, is a good illustration of the 
 same principle. For when not engaged on questions of 
 privilege, status, or land, it is a most honourable and dis- 
 interested public body ; but the moment these, its dearest 
 interests, are touched or threatened, members lose their 
 heads, and become as impotent for ends of justice as so 
 many Old-Bailey barristers. 
 
 And here the object of the chapter comes more dis- 
 tinctly into view. For if Justice is done, and the Public 
 Good promoted, by the pressure put on the moral nature 
 of each individual by the general conscience of the com- 
 munity (through the concentration of individual ideals in a 
 common sentiment of right), it is evident how supremely 
 important it is that the general community should be 
 instructed, in order that its moral judgments may be 
 true and sound. When rival interests, for example, are 
 clamouring for " free trade " and " fair trade " respectively, 
 and victory is at the mercy of the most powerful influence, 
 how important it is that the public should be instructed 
 in the great principles of Political Economy, in order that 
 it may interpose, and by the weight it throws into the 
 scale, turn legislation in the right path. When the farmers, 
 abetted by the landlords, are crying out for relief from 
 their local burdens, how necessary it is that the general 
 public should understand that no remission of taxation will 
 be a permanent relief to the tenant, as it must eventually
 
 HOW IS JUSTICE DONE? 137 
 
 go into the pocket of the landlord in the shape of in- 
 creased rent. These and many other like instances 
 that might be adduced, teach us the importance of 
 indoctrinating the public mind with true principles, and 
 giving to practical politics a wider horizon of scientific 
 thought.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE END OF GOVERNMENT. 
 
 THE first great question that must be scientifically 
 determined the question into which all others finally 
 merge is, what is the end at which all Government 
 should aim ? It is evident that until this is settled, we 
 cannot tell whether any particular religion, institution, or 
 principle of government, is good or bad, because we can- 
 not tell whether it really forwards or retards the true end. 
 Did political parties not differ so widely as to the end to 
 be attained by legislation, they would not differ so widely 
 in the means they employ. But once determine the true 
 end, by a just insight into the Laws of the World and the 
 Human Mind, we can then proceed to estimate the effects 
 of different creeds, institutions, and forms of government 
 on that end. We can determine also the effects of those 
 smaller changes in legislation which are constantly arising, 
 and which are insensibly affecting the constitution of 
 States. We get, in short, a deeper than scientific, viz., a 
 religious basis, for our political aspirations ; we animate 
 Society with a living principle, and have already taken 
 the first step towards attaining unanimity in the means 
 employed to realise it. As the pole-star to the confused 
 mariner, so a great political aim, running in a line with 
 the real tendencies of Nature, gives to the embarrassed 
 Thinker a steady light by which to steer.
 
 THE END OF GOVERNMENT. 139 
 
 Now, all political schemes whatever, whether they be 
 practical or speculative, have consciously or unconciously 
 as their object, one or other of the following ends either 
 the order, symmetry, an dstability of Society as a whole, or 
 the elevation and expansion of the individual mind. 
 Those who support the one, would subordinate the en- 
 largement and elevation of the individual to the order and 
 symmetry of Society as a whole ; those who support the 
 other, would postpone the symmetry and order of Society 
 to the elevation and expansion of the individual. The 
 one would make each man a mere cog or wheel in the 
 vast organized mechanism of Society, the other would 
 make him conversant with the highest his nature is 
 capable of, and would make room for him to expand to 
 the utmost limit of his being. Accordingly, the watch- 
 word of the one is Order, of the other, Progress ; of the 
 one, Despotism (more or less disguised perhaps) ; of the 
 other, Liberty. The one would tighten the bonds that 
 keep man dependent on and subservient to man ; the 
 other would relax them. The one preaches a religion of 
 Social Duty ; the other, of individual Expansion and 
 Enlargement. Among recent politica lihinkers, Comte and 
 Carlyle have taken their stand on the one; Emerson, Mill, 
 and Spencer on the other. In the present chapter, I shall 
 endeavour to show that the ends of the latter are more in 
 harmony with the constitution of the World and the nature 
 of Man than the former that, in short, the elevation 
 and expansion of the individual is the true aim of Govern- 
 ment, as indeed it is the end to which Nature works. 
 This position I shall support, directly, by considerations 
 drawn from observations of Life and Nature, and, in- 
 directly, by tracing the principles of the opposite school 
 to their roots in the human mind, and pointing out the 
 great Laws of Life which they have neglected laws which 
 neglected must doom all schemes founded in disregard of 
 them to the limbo of Utopia. 
 
 On taking a wide survey of the World, nothing is more
 
 I 4 o THE GOAL. 
 
 striking than the efforts made by all creatures to fulfil the 
 law of their existence to secure the free and unimpeded 
 play of every power and native impulse, and to make for 
 themselves room to expand to the full compass of their 
 being-. All alike, animals and men, are seen struggling 
 for this much-desired end the contests in which they 
 are engaged being but a way of determining who is to be 
 leader, and who follower ; who master, and who servant ; 
 who to follow the impulses of his own genius, the dictates 
 of his own conscience, and who to obey the mandates of 
 another, and bear stamped on his soul the impress of an 
 alien personality. This deep-rooted desire in the heart of 
 every man to be his own master, this never-ceasing 
 struggle to rise to successive positions of less and less 
 dependence, are the hints we have given us that the eleva- 
 tion and expansion of the individual mind, is the end that 
 Nature has at heart. Money, position, and authority are 
 prized , after all, not so much on their own account, as 
 because they are means to the attainment of that great 
 -end. So deeply, indeed, is this desire for expansion rooted 
 in the human heart, that when gratification is denied it in 
 the Actual World, it will be sought and found in the Ideal. 
 For man will deliver himself of his thought ; if not openly, 
 then secretly; if not by deed, then byword; if not directly, 
 then indirectly by fable or parable, on canvas or stone, 
 in mimicry, poetry, and song. Not the most potent 
 despot can repress the secret canvassing of his life and 
 character by the lowest menial of his household. No 
 negro slave so degraded and oppressed, but will manage to 
 snatch from his captivity moments in which his nature 
 will have free and unrestricted play ; the rude songs and 
 dances in which he revels giving him that elevation and 
 expansion of mind and heart which Fate has denied him. 
 The down-trodden serfs of the Middle Ages, too, had their 
 legends of the saints and martyrs, which gave horizon and 
 sky to their cramped and obstructed lives, and opened up 
 to them a world of beautiful dreams in the dark night of
 
 THE END OF GOVERNMENT. i 4I 
 
 oppression. Even the Heaven of the believer, what is it 
 but a vision of what the soul shall be, when, unfettered by 
 the clogs and conditions of Time, and untrammelled by 
 the base restrictions of the world, it shall be free to mount 
 and expand to the utmost possibilities of its nature ? If,, 
 then, the elevation and expansion of the mind is the end 
 of Nature, it must also be the end of Government. It has 
 not as yet, it is true, been realised by the world, but is the 
 glorious fruit which the civilizations of the ages have been 
 slowly ripening. Legislation, accordingly, should open up 
 a way for its realisation, as the protecting sheath opens 
 out before the expanding flower. Unless, indeed, provision 
 is somewhere made for Expansion, no system of govern- 
 ment can endure, but must either explode in revolutions,, 
 or sink into ruin and decay. To what, for example, is the 
 stagnant condition of India, with its swarming millions, 
 due, but to that system of Caste which, leaving no room 
 for individual character and genius to climb, reduces man 
 to the condition of a thing, and of his immortal spirit 
 makes a base and material tool merely ? To be free to 
 develop every side of our nature according to the infinite 
 variety and subtlety of genius and aspiration, that is 
 expansion, that is liberty. 
 
 That the Expansion and Elevation of the Individual is 
 the end of Nature, and therefore of Government, is seen 
 also in the ideals and admirations of men. Whom do- 
 men admire and aspire to know, whom do they desire to- 
 cultivate as acquaintances, or embrace as friends and 
 companions ? Those worthy souls whose spirits have 
 been broken by hardship or oppression, and who seem to 
 live only to obey and "to do their duty in the sphere of 
 life to which it has pleased God to call them ? " Not 
 these, but those who are kings of themselves and their own 
 thought, and who are accustomed to follow in action the 
 movements of their own free and unconstrained wills. 
 What virtues can irradiate the man who bends the knee, 
 or betrays in his manners and bearing the cloven hoof of
 
 I 4 2 
 
 THE GOAL. 
 
 servility ? Who would make the tone and habit of mind 
 of a flunkey the model for imitation, or his manners the 
 glass in which to dress oneself? Who would make an 
 ideal of a slave, however virtuous he might be ? Even the 
 poor and honest Church-goer, with his life of duty and 
 devotion where are the admirers who strew flowers in his 
 path, or present him with beautiful memorials of their 
 esteem ? But let a man belong to a dominant caste, and 
 look as if he were accustomed to have his lightest caprice 
 instantly realised, men feel in his society as if in a superior 
 presence, they extenuate his vices, wink at his peccadilloes, 
 and fashion themselves in his peculiar configuration of 
 thought and character. Why is the society of men of 
 birth and wealth so courted, but that birth and wealth are 
 believed to bring with them the power of walking erect 
 lords of our own domain and so tend to generate habits 
 of dignity and self-respect. Why do we believe in the 
 honour of men in comfortable, over men in indigent 
 circumstances, and are not so afraid of our spoons, but 
 that we suppose that those favoured by fortune are 
 accustomed to travel through a wide and generous circuit 
 of thought and sentiment, owing to their escape from 
 those hardships which blunt the higher nature and wear 
 off its edge? 
 
 That the Expansion and Elevation of the Mind is the end 
 of life, is seen, too, if we consider what are called the Laws 
 of Honour. These laws were never regarded as identical 
 with the Laws of Morality; indeed in many cases they 
 ran directly counter to them, as in the oft-quoted instance 
 of duelling. Nor were the men of Chivalry who repre- 
 sented this code distinguished for their special Christian 
 graces neither humility nor resignation, chastity nor 
 temperance, figuring prominently in their repertoire of 
 virtues. But in spite of their vices, their gallantries, and 
 their disregard of the ordinary moralities, their word of 
 honour was sacred ; and they had that erectness, sensi- 
 tiveness, and dignity of mind, which would brook no stain
 
 THE END OF GOVERNMENT. 143 
 
 or reproach. The consequence was that they were re- 
 garded by the world with a rapture and fulness of 
 admiration denied to any body of lowly Christians, how- 
 ever conscientious, self-denying, and sincere. When we 
 consider, too, w T ith what infamy a stain on a man's honour 
 is regarded by the world, compared with a mere breach of 
 morality, we see that the Expansion and Elevation of the 
 Mind is the supreme and positive virtue, to which all other 
 virtues are mere aids or instruments. Even women, 
 whose admiration is on the whole, perhaps, the best index 
 of the qualities Nature wishes to prevail, love the dignified, 
 large, and magnanimous nature, better than the strictly 
 rigid and conscientious one. Now, the reason for all this 
 is, that what in common parlance is called Duty, is not 
 the end of the world. It is merely a means, not an end 
 at all. It is the ligament which keeps Society together at 
 each and every point in its progress, but it has no creative 
 force, no initiative power, and consequently cannot assist 
 Society in its development to a higher state. The Ten 
 Commandments, which are the highest embodiment of 
 duty, only maintain the status quo, the existing order, and 
 if left to themselves would perpetuate it indefinitely. 
 Feudalism \vould be here to-day, and the serf would be 
 still bound to the soil, so far as what is called duty is con- 
 cerned. The Castes of the East, with their degrading 
 views of human life and human dignity, would lie and 
 stagnate to all eternity, undisturbed by duty. Despotism, 
 the divine right of kings, and all the out-worn rubbish of 
 other days, were still with us, for all that mere duty would 
 have to * say against them. Would the slave have been 
 free to-day had he merely asked what his duty in life was ? 
 He would have been told that his duty was to obey his 
 master, and to remain satisfied in the sphere of life to 
 which it had pleased God to call him. But it was because 
 men saw that the end of life was the expansion and 
 elevation of the individual, and not the mere perpetuation 
 of the status quo the mere regularity of the State-machine
 
 I 44 THE GOAL. 
 
 that they ruptured the bonds of the slave and set him 
 free. In those moments of expansion, when the human 
 spirit, stirring like an Enceladus under the mountain of 
 routine, upturns the old landmarks of custom, the torpid, 
 incumbents of prescription and privilege, startled from 
 their night-sleep on their ancient boughs, shriek in dismay,. 
 Confiscation ! Sacrilege ! But has it not always been 
 held right and necessary that we should sacrifice a lower 
 duty to a higher one, the lower one of Order, to the higher 
 one of Expansion and Liberty ? Indeed, were it not our 
 highest duty to cut the cords of what is called duty, when 
 human growth and expansion demand it, the world would 
 not advance. The tyrant would remain a tyrant, the 
 slave a slave, to all time ; ignorance would perpetuate 
 itself for ever, and the primal despotisms squat on the 
 nations like a ghoul. 
 
 A glance, too, over the history of the world will show 
 that the progress of man has been towards greater and 
 greater respect for individual expansion and enlargement.. 
 At one time, the welfare of the Community or tribe as a 
 whole was alone worthy of consideration, and we had 
 what Mr. Spencer has called the military type of society,, 
 where all functionaries, authorities, and powers, whether 
 civil or military, were regimented and disposed as in an 
 army, and where the individual was a mere cog in a piece 
 of mechanism, and of but secondary importance. After 
 a time, when the Family became the organic unit or basis 
 of society, the heads of each family stood erect, inde- 
 pendent, and free, while the lives and liberties of all the 
 other members were held on sufferance in their single 
 hands alone. It is only in recent times that the Individual 
 has been regarded as a being having a body and soul, not 
 to be rudely touched, but to be approached with homage 
 and respect. This sentiment, although powerful politically 
 and in a collective sense, has, owing to the remnants of 
 aristocratic habits of thought, been ignored in respect to 
 individual and social claims. The West, however, has
 
 THE END OF NATURE. 145 
 
 carried it to its logical issue, and in America where alone 
 it has descended from the political to the social plane, 
 each man stands erect on his own manhood, sovereign, 
 respected, and free. 
 
 Broadly speaking, all life is precisely this widest range of 
 individuality and expansion on the smallest possible basis 
 of restraint. Each plant and animal has the widest range 
 of freedom given to it in which to develop and bring to 
 light its hidden beauties, powers, and affinities, subject 
 only to such general laws of decimation and death as are 
 necessary to preserve the order and symmetry of the 
 whole. It is the first end of Nature that provision should 
 be made for the fullest unfolding of every power and 
 native instinct ; why should man alone be denied this 
 universal prerogative, and go to the grave with his best 
 powers locked up in painful obstruction, forbidden to see 
 them unfolded, his only chance of communing with the 
 Universal being through the faded relics of some out- 
 worn creed ?
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE POLITICS OF COMTE. 
 
 THAT the elevation and expansion of the individual is the 
 true end of Government will be still further apparent if we 
 turn to those thinkers who have made the order and 
 stability of Society as a whole their chief concern, and 
 endeavour to point out the great laws of human life which 
 they have neglected. In recent times the most dis- 
 tinguished of these have been Comte and Carlyle. I am, 
 of course, aware that in making Comte the representative 
 of Order at the expense of Progress, I am running counter 
 to his own express announcement. He distinctly asserts 
 that Progress is the end of his social scheme, and that 
 Order is merely his basis, his means, his instrument. 
 Nevertheless, if we examine his system carefully we shall 
 find that he has sacrificed his end to his means, and that, 
 in his zeal for Order, he has gone far to strangle Progress. 
 For a writer's principles are, after all, to be judged not by 
 the magnificence of his scheme in general, but by the 
 tendencies of its provisions in particular, as a man's aims 
 are determined, not by the grandeur of his professions, but 
 by the objects he is actually seen striving to realize. 
 Comte was an accomplished thinker, and was fully 
 cognizant of all the conditions essential to the solution of 
 the great problems of modern society. It was not likely, 
 therefore, that in his general outline he should overlook
 
 THE POLITICS OF COMTE. 147 
 
 any important factor. On the contrary, he has been 
 careful to surround himself with a philosophical network 
 so extensive and all-embracing as to leave little chance of 
 anything important escaping him. He has made provision 
 for order and progress, for culture and aspiration, for 
 action and contemplation. But when we strip off the 
 superficial phrases and generalities that obscure his real 
 plan, and examine its true bearings, we shall find that each 
 of its parts is so constructed as to promote the order and 
 stability of society as a whole, at the expense of individual 
 expansion and enlargement. In saying that Comte has 
 gone far towards sacrificing Progress to Order, I do not 
 mean to infer that he was indifferent to Progress. On the 
 contrary, he has declared that Order and Progress are both 
 equally necessary to the welfare of society. But Order 
 and Progress, although equally necessary, are, like the poles 
 of a battery, mutually opposed ; and, in consequence, it is 
 as difficult to hit both with equal directness by one scheme 
 as by one blow to hit two objects that lie in opposite direc- 
 tions. For, just as the harmonious movements of the stars 
 are secured, not by one compound force, but by the two 
 opposite centrifugal and centripetal forces, so the orderly 
 progress of States is best secured by the existence of two 
 political parties, each of which is pledged to one side alone. 
 If no one scheme, then, can hit with equal directness both 
 Order and Progress, the only alternative for a speculative 
 thinker is to decide which of these ends he thinks most 
 important ; to aim at that, and trust that the other will be 
 hit in the rebound. Comte preferred Order; and his 
 choice drew after it the same artillery of means as if it 
 had been his exclusive aim. For it may be laid down as 
 a law that although in practical life you can temper your 
 principles to the exigencies of the occasion, it is impossible 
 to do so in any general scheme of life constructed without 
 reference to time, place, or circumstance. A good instance 
 of this is seen in the teaching of Carlyle and Emerson. 
 These eminent Thinkers both saw that men on the one
 
 148 THE GOAL. 
 
 hand were radically alike in their essential natures, and on 
 the other that they were unlike in their range of thought 
 and sentiment. But to lay out a scheme of life and 
 conduct that would equally embrace these opposite truths 
 was not possible. They were obliged accordingly to 
 choose which they would prefer to satisfy the identity or 
 the diversity. Emerson chose the identity or likeness of 
 man as the basis of his teaching, Carlyle the diversity. 
 The consequence was that Emerson's teaching ran into 
 the extreme of liberty, Carlyle's into the extreme of 
 despotism. So, too, with Comte. Having made Humanity 
 ;as a whole the centre both of his religious and his social 
 system, he was bound to subordinate the expansion of the 
 individual to the symmetry and stability of Society as a 
 whole, until at last, by the very nature of things, he was 
 driven into drawing the cords of order so tight as to 
 strangle individual expansion and development. 
 
 With these preliminary observations I now propose to 
 examine Comte's political and social scheme, with the view 
 of pointing out the great laws of human life which he has 
 neglected. But, before we can grasp his scheme in its 
 logical completeness, we must discover the reasons for his 
 making Humanity the central point of his system. Previous 
 to his time there was no general science of Sociology ; 
 that is to say, no general laws had been discovered to 
 which the progress and development of Mankind as a whole 
 could be referred. Humanity at large was regarded much 
 in the same way as a flight of crows or a forest of trees is 
 regarded, viz., as a mere aggregate of isolated individuals. 
 And as each of these individuals was liable to be moved 
 by influences supernatural and other which defied all 
 law and calculation, no one was likely to dream that a 
 Science of Society was possible. But from the time when it 
 began to appear that these supernatural conceptions them- 
 selves were the products of human thought ; that they were 
 .not capricious and casual, but followed a regular course and 
 Border of development, men began to entertain the hope that
 
 THE POLITICS OF COMTE. 149 
 
 great general laws might be discovered to which the total 
 movements of Humanity could be shown to conform.. 
 Comte professed to have discovered these laws, and to- 
 have marked out the stages through which Mankind has 
 passed in its course and development, and so, for the first 
 time, was enabled to figure Humanity, not as a mere 
 aggregate of isolated individuals, but as a unity, an. 
 organism, a life. Hence it is that he represents Humanity 
 as a Great Being, and pictures it as some immense mammal 
 which in its growth and development has come down from 
 the Past and is stretching onwards into the Future ; the 
 Individual being but a cell or molecule in its huge frame.. 
 And just as it is only the animal organism as a whole that 
 can be regarded as a real entity, the cells of which it is- 
 composed having no distinct independent life, so Comte 
 constantly repeats that ' Humanity is the only real existence, 
 the Individual being a mere metaphysical abstraction.' 
 
 Such is the train of thought by which Comte arrives at 
 his conception of Humanity as a Great Being, and by 
 which he makes it, and not the Individual, the centre of 
 his system. Now, from this conception and from the 
 analogies that exist between Humanity and other vital 
 organisms, his whole scheme of social reorganization may 
 be logically deduced. A few broad instances will suffice 
 to make this apparent. In the animal body, for example, 
 the organs, tissues, and cells of which it is composed do 
 not exist on their own account, but to do the special work 
 assigned them ; they are not independent and unrelated, 
 but have vital connexions with every other part, and are 
 kept in strict subordination to the welfare of the body as 
 a whole. So, in Comte's scheme, the special classes and 
 individuals of which society is composed have each to do 
 the special work assigned them, and keep themselves strictly 
 subordinated to the welfare of Society as a whole. Priests 
 and bankers, manufacturers and merchants, women and 
 working-men, have each their respective functions minutely 
 defined by him functions not to be altered except at the
 
 J5 o THE GOAL. 
 
 behests of high necessity. For, just as any attempt on the 
 part of an organ or tissue to set up for itself and to do as 
 it pleased, would end in the disruption of the body, so any 
 attempt on the part of an individual to follow the bias of 
 his own genius or character would, Comte thinks, end in 
 the disruption of society. Accordingly, he preaches the 
 duty of each individual to occupy the position assigned him, 
 not the right of every man to choose his own path 
 according to the secret impulses of his nature. Liberty 
 and the Rights of Man, he thinks, lead to anarchy, and are 
 therefore to be repressed. His new watchword is, ' Duties, 
 not Rights.' But as the power of deciding what particular 
 function a man is to fulfil must be vested in the hands of one 
 or more persons, the scheme, as we should expect, ends in 
 despotism. For it is the essence of despotism that the 
 lives and fortunes of men should be placed, not in the 
 hands of Fate and Nature, with their just and equal laws, 
 but in the hands of some poor creature like ourselves, who, 
 ignorant of himself perhaps, impudently professes to gauge 
 the hidden depths and capacities of other souls, and with 
 easy assurance proceeds to distribute them into the niches 
 they are best fitted to occupy. 
 
 But this analogy between Humanity and the animal 
 organism is carried by Comte still further into his scheme 
 of social reorganization. He figures the animal body as 
 made up of two distinct and independent sets of organs 
 the nutritive and the cerebral which have distinct and 
 independent functions. The nutritive organs consist of 
 lungs, heart, liver, and other tissues, and earn" on the 
 nutrition and support of the body. The cerebral organs 
 consist of the brain and nervous system, and their function 
 is so to co-ordinate and regulate the action of the nutritive 
 organs that they shall all work harmoniously for the good 
 of the whole. Now, corresponding to these organs of 
 nutrition and cerebration in the animal body, are the 
 Temporal and Spiritual powers in the body politic. The 
 Temporal Power consists of governors, directors and
 
 THE POLITICS OF COMTE. 151 
 
 -administrators ; and its function is to superintend the 
 organization of industry and carry on the work of practical 
 administration. The Spiritual Power consists of the philo- 
 sophic Priesthood, and its function is to moderate, by 
 its moral pressure, the exercise of the Temporal Power for 
 the benefit of the community at large. And just as Comte 
 finds the organs of nutrition and innervation distinct and 
 independent, so he would make the Temporal and Spiritual 
 powers distinct and independent. The Spiritual Power is 
 to be concentrated in the hands of the High Priest of 
 Humanity, backed by women and working-men (the 
 former of whom represent the sympathetic side of 
 Humanity, and the latter its active side) and will act by 
 the purely moral methods of persuasion and sympathy. 
 The Temporal Power will be concentrated in the hands of 
 Three Bankers (as dealing with the widest relations of 
 industry), supported by a staff of Merchants and Manu- 
 facturers, who will be arranged according to the greater or 
 less generality of the functions they perform, and who will 
 act on their own initiative, subject only to the advice of the 
 Spiritual power ; the wealth they administer being held, 
 not as private property, but as a public trust. Such is a 
 broad outline of Comte's scheme of social reorganization, 
 founded on the analogy he finds to exist between Humanity 
 and other organisms an analogy that might be carried 
 into minute and minuter details. It has analogies, too, 
 with that Catholic Feudalism for which Comte had so 
 great an esteem ; Humanity taking the place of God ; the 
 High Priest of Humanity, of the Pope ; and a number of 
 small republics presided over by Three Bankers, the place 
 of the kingdoms and principalities of the Middle Ages. 
 
 Now in this scheme of social reorganization Comte has 
 neglected two great laws of human life, laws which must 
 consign any scheme constructed in disregard of them tc 
 the dreamland of utopia. These laws are 
 
 ist. That men are alike in their essential natures. 
 2nd. That they are led by the Imagination.
 
 i 5 2 THE GOAL. 
 
 However different men may be in their special gifts 
 and capacities, there can be no doubt that they are alike in 
 their essential natures. Compared with that deep likeness 
 that is common to them all, any mere superficial difference 
 in kind or degree of faculty is as insignificant as is the 
 difference among the billows when compared with the 
 deep unity of the great underlying sea. No one denies 
 that men are alike in their physical conformations in 
 their lungs, heart, stomach, bones, muscles and tissues.. 
 Why should not their minds be alike also their impulses,, 
 feelings, tendencies, and passions ? Is there any faculty 
 wanting in the average man ? Is there any trade, art, or 
 profession which he cannot learn ? Will education and train- 
 ing not make of him a better or worse tailor, shoemaker, 
 lawyer, doctor, statesman, or scholar ? Is there, indeed,, 
 any human sentiment that he cannot comprehend ? Shak- 
 speare, the most profound and subtle of all writers, is uni- 
 versally intelligible ; so also would be the Metaphysicians 
 and Philosophers, were it not for their use of a technical 
 and forbidding nomenclature. If, then, the differences 
 among men are poor and insignificant compared with 
 their common likeness, to regard Humanity as an organism 
 in the strict sense of that term, and on that basis to 
 construct a scheme of social reorganization, is equally 
 absurd and chimerical. Of course, as a creature, man has 
 feelings of pride, vanity, love, pity, mercy, which connect 
 him with his fellow-man. By reason of this relationship 
 he must act and react on others, must modify and be 
 modified by them. But to suppose that Humanity is an 
 organism merely because the individuals of which it is. 
 composed act and react on one another, and so, in a certain 
 sense, form a kind of corporate existence, is about as 
 reasonable as to suppose that the Solar System is an 
 organism because sun, moon, and planets act and react on 
 each other; or that the animal kingdom at large is an 
 organism because, during the long ages of the past, each 
 animal has, in the struggle for existence, modified and been
 
 THE POLITICS OF COMTE. 153 
 
 modified by all the rest. If, then, we seek for the differences- 
 between Humanity as a corporate existence and the higher 
 animal organisms which it is supposed to resemble, we shall 
 find that they are so radical and profound as to destroy 
 any political scheme founded on the assumed likeness- 
 In the first place, the higher vital organisms have a fixed 
 and definite structure, the cells and organs of which they 
 are composed having a definite relationship to each other 
 and to the whole. But Humanity has no fixed structure,, 
 no definite relationship either of individuals or classes, but 
 changes its structure and character from age to age. At 
 one time we have Feudalism, with its popes, kings, nobility, 
 and serfs ; at another Theocracy, with the supremacy of 
 priests and hierarchy of castes; and again, Republicanism,, 
 with its liberty, equality, and rights of man. In the 
 second place, in vital organisms the condition of the organ- 
 ism as a whole is of primary importance, the condition 
 of the parts being of importance only in so far as they 
 affect the whole ; whereas in Humanity the condition of 
 the individual is the important point, the condition of 
 Society as a whole being but a sequence and after-effect of 
 the state of the individual ; any revolution in individual 
 thought and sentiment altering entirely the character of 
 Society as a whole. And lastly (and here we see the 
 neglect of the fact of the identical nature), we have a still 
 more fatal and radical difference between Humanity and 
 the higher organisms. In the higher vital organisms the 
 cells and organs are so constructed as to -do one special 
 kind of work, and one only ; the higher the organism the 
 more specialised and limited being the work of its 
 separate parts. The cells of the liver and brain have 
 each their separate functions which cannot be inter- 
 changed ; so also have the lungs, stomach, and heart. 
 But the individuals of which Humanity is composed 
 are, on the contrary, so constructed as not only to 
 do one kind of work and adapt themselves to one set of 
 circumstances, but to do any kind of work and adapt them-
 
 154 THE GOAL. 
 
 selves to any set of circumstances. Each man has, equally 
 with every other man, an inlet into the common sea of 
 knowledge and truth, although the conditions of life usually 
 restrict his energies to some one or more special depart- 
 ment of labour. For just as the eye is made to sweep the 
 horizon, although it is directed from moment to moment 
 on the different objects around us, so the mind of man is 
 made to span the arch of heaven and travel through all 
 the constellations of genius and virtue, although it must 
 bend its energies on the practical problems that present 
 themselves for solution from hour to hour. While each 
 man, then, has a bias or special power which is his strong 
 point, and makes one particular kind of work easier to him 
 than another whether it be mechanics, art, poetry, philo- 
 sophy, or practical administration he has also within him 
 a general or universal power, which can grasp indifferently 
 each or any of these different branches of knowledge. Any 
 system, therefore, that ignores this deep likeness of nature 
 common to all men, and on the superficial likeness existing 
 between Humanity and other vital organisms would erect a 
 scheme of Practical Politics, is doomed to failure. Any 
 system that, without consulting a man's special bias and 
 genius, would condemn him (on the judgment or caprice of 
 others or another) to become a mere cog or wheel in the 
 vast Machine of Society, to be eternally grinding out his 
 own particular product, without right of entry into the open 
 field of universal truth, has already passed into the cloud- 
 land of utopia. The Hindoos were taught to believe that 
 certain classes sprang from the head, others from the 
 trunk, and others, again, from the feet of Brahm. By 
 accepting this degrading superstition and, in consequence, 
 denying the native identity of all men, they split themselves 
 up into a hierarchy of castes, the result of which may be 
 seen in the stagnation in which India lies at the present 
 hour, her sweltering millions being as uninteresting to the 
 aspiring mind as a swarm of moving insects the more, 
 the worse. Would Comte have us repeat this Hindoo
 
 THE POLITICS OF COMTE. 155 
 
 superstition, and again erect a social system on the basis 
 of Caste ? He does not, I am aware, in theory go to this 
 extreme length, but his system, if put in operation, would 
 end in a Caste-despotism. For example, he makes provision 
 in his scheme for a priestly class, for an administrative 
 class, and for a working class. These classes are to take 
 rank according to the greater or less generality of the 
 functions they perform ; and in the higher ranks are to 
 recruit themselves by choosing their own successors. 
 They are also expected to remain satisfied with their 
 respective positions, and to do the work assigned them 
 without aspiration and without choice. Who can doubt 
 that this scheme would become an intolerable despotism 
 before it had well time to set ? Comte partially perceived 
 this, and proposed to guard against it by giving all men 
 alike the same education, and thereby satisfying the feeling 
 of common equality. But he apparently did not perceive 
 that if he ranged men in a fixed hierarchy of classes, the 
 higher would despise the lower to the end of time, spite of 
 all education, and so would be brought back all those evils 
 which his system sought to avoid. And furthermore, in 
 spite of the fact that he would have all men equally edu- 
 cated, he still thought it necessary to put them in leading 
 strings; and that, too, in an age when the only plea for 
 despotism that still survives and retains any show of 
 plausibility is the fact that men are not educated, and, in 
 consequence, are not able to manage their own affairs. 
 The truth is, Comte believed in Caste ; that is to say, he 
 laid more stress on the small superficial differences of men 
 than on their great fundamental likeness, and so, instead 
 of allowing each man to know best what was the proper 
 direction for his genius and character, would place our 
 whole spiritual and temporal concerns in the hands of a 
 High Priest of Humanity and Three Bankers, who (being 
 phrenologists) would, by some such " cheap signboard as 
 the shape of the head or colour of the beard, sum up the 
 inventory of our characters and fortunes." Let us hope,
 
 I5 6 THE GOAL. 
 
 on the contrary, that the time is not far distant when any 
 attempt to prevent a man from having a chance for the 
 full development of his genius and character, as a bird is 
 allowed to build its nest according to its own nature, will 
 be regarded as a conspiracy against the dignity of the 
 human mind and treason against the laws of God. 
 
 Having pointed out some of the Utopias into which 
 Comte falls by his neglect of the great law that men are 
 alike in their essential natures, I come now to the second 
 great neglect in his scheme of positive polity the neglect 
 of the law that men are led by the Imagination. 
 
 In making Humanity as a whole the end of his social 
 system, Comte treats individual men as if they were so- 
 many pieces in a Chinese puzzle, and expects, nay believes, 
 that when he has discovered the way in which they are to be 
 arranged so as to form a stable and harmonious structure, 
 they will become like puppets in his hands, and remain in 
 the positions in which he has placed them. It is not 
 surprising that he should believe that individuals are so^ 
 easily manipulable when we remember that he regards 
 them as mere metaphysical abstractions. We have seen 
 the way in which he constructs his social scheme, with 
 its checks, balances, and compensatory movements ; how 
 he separates the Spiritual from the Temporal power; 
 the former acting by purely moral means (supported by 
 the sympathy of women and working-men), the latter by 
 its material power and command over the products of 
 industry. Having disposed the different classes of society 
 in this way, Comte believes that the individuals of which 
 they are composed will accept the positions assigned them, 
 and will continue to occupy them from a sense of duty 
 alone, without inclination, aspiration, or choice. The 
 practical difficulties that lie in the way of his scheme, he 
 makes as little of, as Captain Bobadil did of the numbers 
 and force of the enemy to which he was opposed. He 
 has no fear that men will refuse to keep the positions- 
 assigned them, as they will be judged entirely by their
 
 THE POLITICS OF COMTE. 157 
 
 intellectual and moral qualities, and not by their ' social 
 position.' And as he asserts that there will be no desire 
 for fame, power, or applause, but only to do one's duty, 
 there need be no fear of any conflict of jurisdiction, of any 
 encroachment of one class on another. The Priesthood of 
 Philosophers will not dream of interfering in Practical 
 Politics, as it would be beneath their dignity, and besides 
 would weaken their speculative faculty by its attention to 
 petty details. Any such unworthy ambition for vulgar 
 power would be regarded, both by themselves and others, 
 .as a sign of moral weakness and mental deficiency. 
 Practical Politicians, on the other hand, he believes, will 
 restrict themselves entirely to their duty of keeping Order, 
 and would deem it an impertinence to claim any authority 
 over Thought. And, in like manner, women will renounce 
 their utopia of what is called ' woman's rights,' and will 
 concern themselves entirely with their household duties, 
 ihe education of their children, and the giving of their 
 moral support to the spiritual power. The Working-man, 
 too, will be equally reasonable and self-denying, and will 
 be as easily managed as either the women, the politicians, 
 or the priests. He will be content to remain where he is. 
 He will not seek power, indeed he would not have it were 
 it thrust on him. It is only exceptional persons, Comte 
 .thinks, who care for power on its own account. Neither 
 will he care for fame a bauble beneath the concern of 
 sensible men. And when it has to be bought by meditation, 
 as among the Philosophers and Priests, or is burdened by 
 -care, as among the Practical Statesmen, Comte distinctly 
 declares that the working-man will have nothing to do 
 with it. Is it not enough for the working-man, he asks, 
 that all other classes should be working for his benefit ? 
 Why then should he give himself either thought or trouble 
 for so unreal a phantasm ? And as to Wealth, the 
 working-man will ask himself what connexion it has with 
 true happiness ; and finding that it has none whatever, but 
 that, on the contrary, true happiness depends far more on
 
 158 THE GOAL. 
 
 the free play of all our powers (in which respect, indeed,, 
 the working-man is in a much better position than those 
 above him in the social scale), he will feel it no sacrifice to 
 renounce it entirely. " The working man," says Comte, 
 " will cease to aspire to wealth and power, leaving these 
 to those whose political activity requires that strong 
 stimulus. Each man's ambition will be to do his work 
 well." 
 
 Such is the beautiful Utopia which Comte expected to 
 see realised in a generation from the time in which it was 
 promulgated. That generation has already come and 
 gone, and, as we are apparently as far from its realisation 
 as ever, there must have been some great law of human 
 life neglected in his calculations. That law, as I have 
 already said, is that men are led by the Imagination. I 
 am aware, of course, that Comte made the acceptance of 
 his Political scheme conditional on the acceptance of his 
 Religious and Scientific views, and that it was only because 
 he imagined that these views would be accepted as soon 
 as they were promulgated that he anticipated so speedy 
 a realisation of his political scheme. He is constantly 
 declaring that before his Practical scheme can be realised, 
 there must be what he calls a Spiritual re-organisation, 
 that is to say, a re-organisation of opinion and belief, and 
 not of caucuses, electors, or ballot-boxes. Now, I have 
 already endeavoured to point out the scientific fallacies in 
 his speculative opinions, when regarded from their political 
 side. In future chapters I shall endeavour to point out 
 the spiritual fallacies in these opinions, when regarded 
 from their religious side. For the present, however, we 
 may fairly assume that they will not meet with that 
 immediate acceptance which he imagined. But, even 
 admitting that his speculative theories should prove to be 
 abstractly true, to believe that men will hasten to realise 
 the political scheme founded on them, merely because he 
 has demonstrated that such a scheme would be for the 
 greatest absolute good of all concerned, is as Utopian as to
 
 THE POLITICS OF COMTE. 159 
 
 believe that a reign of universal peace will follow on a 
 demonstration of the benefits of peace by the Peace 
 Society, or, varying the analogy, that a woman will fall in 
 love with a man merely because he can be proved to be 
 the possessor of all the virtues. The truth is, men are 
 not led by what is absolutely best for themselves, either in 
 this world or the next, but by recondite and subtle com- 
 binations of thought, feeling, and fancy which have 
 fascinated their imaginations and are proportioned to their 
 stages of culture. Proportioned to their stages of culture 
 for, while a cruder conception would disgust by its 
 coarseness, a more refined one would repel by its com- 
 parative coldness and tenuity. There could not have 
 been, perhaps, two men more antagonistic in nature and 
 attribute than Shelley and Tom Sayers ; and yet, if the 
 world were canvassed as to which was the better man, it 
 is a question whether the prize-fighter would not poll as 
 many votes as the ideal poet. The Christian Heaven is a 
 much more refined conception than that of the Mahom- 
 medan or Norseman ; and yet, I doubt not, the Mahom- 
 medan, with his Heaven despoiled of its bright-eyed houris, 
 and the Norseman, with his Valhalla stript of its bloody 
 trophies, would feel as if their principal incentives to virtue 
 had been withdrawn. In the same way, the Religion of 
 Humanity is a much more abstract belief than Christianity, 
 and the rewards it holds out to virtue are of a much more 
 thin and transcendental character. If Christianity, there- 
 fore, with a creed which was believed in, and which was 
 supported by rewards more tangible and alluring than 
 any which the Religion of Humanity has to offer, could 
 not, in its nineteen centuries of organised effort, subdue 
 the Spirit of the World, and the fascinations of Power, 
 Wealth, and Fame, much less will the religion of Auguste 
 Comte. The truth is, Power, Wealth, and Fame are the 
 most potent influences in human life, and are so pro- 
 portioned to our present stage of civilization and culture 
 as to fascinate the imaginations of the great masses of
 
 n6o THE GOAL. 
 
 men more than aught else beside. Any political scheme, 
 therefore, that ignores them, or disposes of them as by a 
 wave of the hand, has already passed into that land of 
 dreams to which Plato's Republic and More's Utopia have 
 long since been relegated. And although it was a fine 
 illustration of Comte's innocence and simplicity to have 
 imagined that Philosophers would have no practical 
 schemes, and Practical Politicians no political theories; 
 that Women would efface themselves; that Working-men 
 would renounce fame, wealth, and power; and that all 
 classes would live only to do their duty in the positions in 
 which they were placed, it nevertheless exhibited more 
 faith in the power of an abstract system of thought than 
 either History or the nature of things will warrant. The 
 fact is, neither the past nor the present organisation of 
 Society has been due to conscious forethought or specu- 
 lative considerations as to what would be best for the 
 general welfare, but rather is the resultant of the 
 effects and struggles of many different men, each of whom 
 was pushing his own way, led on by ideas and designs 
 that had fascinated the Imagination. Were the Temporal 
 and Spiritual Powers of the Middle Ages, for example, 
 separated because Popes and Kings had come to the 
 conclusion that such a separation was best both for 
 themselves and for the peoples living under their sway ? 
 On the contrary, it was the result of centuries of struggle 
 between these respective potentates, in which each foot of 
 ground gained or lost was contested inch by inch. Did the 
 Popes cease to interfere in Temporal affairs because they 
 believed that such interference was detrimental to the 
 general weal ? On the contrary, they ceased to interfere only 
 when the power of doing so had been taken from them by 
 ,the Kings. The Kings, in like manner, ceased to interfere 
 in Spiritual affairs, not from any speculative considerations, 
 but because the power of interfering had been taken from 
 them by the Popes ; for no sooner had the Reformation 
 arrived, and the Popes lost their preponderating power
 
 THE POLITICS OF COMTE. 161 
 
 over the people, than the Kings stepped in again and took 
 up the rule of defenders of the faith. The Press, too, 
 which in our own time is believed by some to be the most 
 real and vital Spiritual Power extant has it not had to 
 fight its way up to its present high position inch by inch ? 
 And Democracy, which many believe to be the political 
 creed of the future has it won its successes without a 
 struggle ? If Comte's scheme, then, of the division of the 
 Temporal and Spiritual powers is ever again to be realised 
 by the world, it will not be because men will have 
 consciously abnegated their own special schemes, and will 
 then proceed to carry into effect the cut-and-dried system 
 which he has evolved ; but it will be because it is the 
 natural outcome and resultant of the efforts of innumer- 
 able men, each of whom has been following the course of 
 thought and action which has most charmed his own Imagi- 
 nation. But it may be said that Society will always be 
 made up of different classes working-men, tradesmen, pro- 
 fessional men, magistrates, rulers and that Comte merely 
 professes to have given them that scientific arrangement 
 which shall be for the highest and truest welfare of all 
 concerned. Here, again, we see the neglect of the same 
 great fact that men are led by the Imagination. For 
 there is all the difference between my following a particular 
 trade, art, or profession, of my own free will and choice, 
 and my being compelled by another to follow it because 
 I am told it will be ultimately for my best and truest 
 welfare. In the first instance, the Imagination is free to 
 range at large, without let or hindrance, amid an infinite 
 variety of thought and aspiration, and with no limits to 
 its flight save those which arise from Fate and Nature 
 themselves. The result is that men awake to a sense of 
 responsibility ; they learn the great Laws of the World in 
 their contact with the many sides of life ; their manhood 
 becomes firmer in its fibre, like trees that have to hold 
 their own against the wintry blasts ; and, as in America, 
 they can turn their hands to anything, and, toss them how 
 
 M
 
 1 62 THE GOAL. 
 
 you will, they will always fall on their feet. But, on the 
 other hand, when a man is pressed into an occupation by 
 the will of others or another, without regard to the secret 
 aspirations which have fascinated his own mind, then 
 Imagination is crushed, life becomes a stagnant marsh, a 
 dreary mechanical routine, without excitement, ambition, 
 or hope, sinking at last into torpor or despair, relieved 
 only by intrigue, insurrection, or crime. And who is to 
 claim this omniscient power of determining the position 
 each man is best fitted to occupy ? In the last resort, 
 some poor creature like ourselves. 
 
 Such are the Utopias into which Comte falls by making 
 Society as a whole the end of his political system, and riot 
 the elevation and expansion of the individual.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE POLITICS OF CARLYLE. 
 
 IF we turn now to Carlyle we shall find that he, too, 
 proposes as his end the welfare of Society as a whole, and 
 not the welfare of the individual, and consequently tightens 
 the bonds of what he calls Duty, and represses Expansion 
 and Liberty. I am aware that Carlyle has been accused 
 of making the Individual, and not Humanity, the central 
 point of his political system ; nevertheless I venture to 
 assert that although a cursory glance may lend color to 
 this view, a deep insight into his philosophy as a whole will 
 not bear it out. In his Sartor Resartus, for example, we 
 find that he figures Society as a living organism, of which 
 Government is the protecting skin, Industry the working 
 muscle, and Religion the nervous tissue and life-giving 
 heart. The generations of Mankind, too, he makes cor- 
 respond with the days of the Individual ; Birth and Death 
 with the morning and evening bells that call him to 
 labour and to rest. And just as in the individual, growth, 
 development, and decay go on together, so do they in 
 Society, which also has its periods of weakness and vigor, 
 of youth, manhood, decrepitude, and new birth. Elsewhere 
 he says that Society is the vital articulation of many 
 individuals into a new collective Individual, a second all- 
 embracing life in which our individual lives have room to 
 expand and develope. Hence, " to figure Society as
 
 164 THE GOAL. 
 
 endowed with life, is scarcely a metaphor, but is rather 
 the statement of a fact by such methods as language 
 affords." 
 
 If Carlyle, then, regards Society as an organism, we may 
 know beforehand that his main concern will be to keep 
 each individual strictly in subordination to the interests 
 of the whole. And, accordingly, we find that his whole 
 gospel is that each man shall occupy the position and 
 do the duty assigned him, and in so doing find his highest 
 welfare. There is nothing, perhaps, which he deprecates 
 more than the tendency in modern peoples to rupture the 
 bonds that formerly kept man dependent on man, and 
 thereby make room for more and more individual liberty 
 and expansion. He sees with a shudder the successive 
 cords cut one by one the freeing of the slave ; the 
 making contracts between master and servant, employer 
 and workman, temporary instead of permanent ; the 
 abolition of all political and commercial restriction ; 
 until, with 'laissez-faire ' and 'supply and demand' as our 
 ultimate political evangel, he exclaims in despair, ' Cash 
 payment is now the sole nexus between man and man.' 
 So deep, indeed, is his concern for union among men, that 
 if he cannot have it spontaneous and natural, he will have 
 it mechanical and fictitious ; if he cannot have Society 
 united by love, he will have it welded together by a 
 despotism of force. 
 
 So far, then, Comte and Carlyle agree in regarding 
 Humanity as an organism, and consequently in drawing 
 the bonds of Order so tightly as to repress Expansion and 
 Liberty. But they differ in the attributes with which they 
 invest Humanity. For while Comte elevates it into a 
 Supreme Being, and makes it the object, not only of his 
 political schemes, but also of his Religion, Carlyle makes 
 it the object of his political schemes only, and centres his 
 Religion in God. The result is that, while with Comte 
 there is no wall separating Religion from Politics, but, on 
 the contrary, his political views can be deduced directly
 
 THE POLITICS OF CAKLYLE. 165 
 
 from his religious ones ; with Carlyle there is a vast chasm 
 between them, which can only be bridged over indirectly 
 the chasm that separates Cause from Effect, the Known 
 from the Unknown, the Finite from the Infinite. Now 
 the way in which he bridges over this chasm is worthy of 
 attention. He believes that the idea of God is of no use 
 whatever for practical direction in this world, but is of 
 service only as a great background of trust and inspiration. 
 It is too vague, shadowy, and immense, to be realised by 
 human thought or spoken of in human words. For 
 practical direction, therefore, it is necessary that the idea 
 should be embodied in tangible and sensuous symbols and 
 representations ; and of these symbols the best, according 
 to Carlyle, is the Hero, or Great Man. All the great 
 religions of the world have exemplified this, for they have 
 all had, on the one hand, a Supreme Being, and on the 
 other, some individual who was His symbol and interpreter 
 on earth, such as Moses, Jesus, and Mahomet. Accord- 
 ingly, while Carlyle makes God the real soul and centre of 
 human life, he makes the Great Man the centre of 
 practical affairs, and regards him, and his fellows who 
 have gone before, as the keystones of the successive arches 
 
 of that bridge of Time which stretches between the two 
 Eternities. 
 
 But although both Comte and Carlyle thus agree in 
 giving Great Men the supreme direction of affairs, and in 
 placing the lives and fortunes of other men at their 
 disposal, they nevertheless differ in their motives for so 
 doing. Comte, believing that the knowledge of Physical, 
 Moral, and Intellectual Laws is the only solid basis for 
 human progress, would reverence the Great Man only in 
 so far as he discovers and announces these laws, and applies 
 them to human affairs. Carlyle, on the other hand, 
 believing that we are led by Imagination, and that the 
 imaginations of men are more roused and fascinated by a 
 concrete Human Personality, than by any mere catalogue 
 
 of Abstract Laws, however true, would reverence the Great
 
 iGG THE GOAL. 
 
 Man on his own account. They differ also in the way in 
 which they would distribute the Supreme Power. Comte,. 
 believing that Action and Speculation are rarely combined 
 in an equal degree in the same person ; that the Philosopher 
 who discovers the great laws of the world has quite a dif- 
 ferent order of mind from the Practical Man who applies 
 them ; would divide the supreme power into the Temporal 
 and Spiritual, placing the former, as we have seen, in the 
 hands of Three Bankers, and the latter in the hands of 
 the High Priest of Humanity. Carlyle, on the other hand, 
 believing that the direction and administration of affairs 
 is only a form of general insight ; that the man who can 
 discover, could, if he chose, equally well apply ; that the 
 Prophet, Priest, or Philosopher would make a Warrior,. 
 Statesman, or King ; believing further that the moral and 
 intellectual faculties are but two sides of the same thing ; 
 that the man of good insight must also have had patience,, 
 candour, openness of mind and perseverance, all of which 
 are qualities characteristic of men of action ; would unite 
 the Temporal and Spiritual powers in the hands of one 
 person the Hero, or supremely Great Man of the age. 
 
 The Great Man, then, as supreme director of affairs,, 
 receiving loyalty and obedience in return for guidance and 
 protection, is Carlyle's solution of the Problem of Society, 
 as, indeed, it is the form which he believes Society will 
 eventually assume when the present transitionary and 
 diseased stage of ' liberty and equality ' shall have passed 
 away. We shall readily perceive the grounds of this con- 
 fidence if we consider what his conception is of a truly 
 healthy society. It is a society where men are all actuated 
 by one aim, and that, too, an aim outside of themselves and 
 their own self-interests ; and not, like the present, where- 
 there are as many aims as there are political doctors or 
 quacks, and where the motto is ' each for himself and the 
 Devil take the hindmost.' It is a society where men are 
 united in bonds of mutual love and helpfulness, and not one 
 where they are merely aggregated together, and where
 
 THE POLITICS OF CARLYLE. 167 
 
 there is no bond uniting them except that of ' cash pay- 
 ment ' and ' supply and demand.' It is a society where 
 each man's duty is to keep himself strictly in subor- 
 dination to the interests of the whole ; and not one where 
 each man's right is to follow the leadings of his own 
 inclination or genius. It is a society where men are loyal 
 to those above them, and helpful to those beneath them ; 
 and not one where all are alike equal and independent, and 
 ' where a suspicion of servility even the dogleech hastens 
 to disavow.' In short, it is a society characterized by unity 
 of aim, loyalty to superiors, care for inferiors, and love and 
 sympathy towards all. Now the reasons why Carlyle 
 believes that the Hero, as keystone of the social arch, will 
 secure this healthy condition of Society, are these : In the 
 first place, he believes that Society is and always has been 
 kept together by a species of Hero-worship ; that not a 
 club, coterie, or association of men but has its big little-man, 
 who is admired, imitated, and followed, not only in 
 external style and demeanour, but also in tone of mind 
 and habits of thought ; and that Society, as a whole, is 
 composed of these groups, in each of which the leader is 
 centre and nucleus. He believes, further, that the con- 
 dition of Society, at any given time, depends on whether 
 the ideals which men imitate and admire are true or false, 
 genuine or counterfeit ; and that the reason why the 
 present state of Society is so unhealthy, is because men 
 worship the false instead of the true, the counterfeit 
 instead of the genuine, ' Bobus, the sausage-maker of 
 Houndsditch,' with his vulgarity and money-bags, instead 
 of some mute inglorious Cromwell, Milton, or Burns. But 
 inasmuch as the reason they worship these false ideals 
 is because they believe them to be genuine (as we see 
 every day in the love of ingenuous maidens for flashy 
 scoundrels, and of society and fashion for its Brummels), 
 he thinks that if the truly Great Man could only be found 
 one with equal intellect, justice, and magnanimity, 
 the world would at once throw away its counterfeits,
 
 1 68 THE GOAL. 
 
 fall at the feet of its lawful sovereign, and attain the 
 highest feeling of which man is capable reverence for the 
 truly Great and Good. And by way of assisting us in our 
 search he gives us a few specimens as exemplars 
 Frederick, Cromwell, Johnson, Mirabeau. Presuming, 
 then, that we have found our Hero, and made him king 
 over us, all the requisites for a healthy society, he thinks, 
 will follow naturally. Unity of Aim because, being the 
 supreme interpreter of the Laws of the World and of 
 Society, as well as the supreme administrator of affairs, the 
 Hero indicates the goal toward which society should steer, 
 and concentrates all its force to that end ; Loyalty because 
 all men must bow down before what is palpably greater 
 and more god-like than themselves ; Sympathy, Union, and 
 Helpfulness because while diversity of interests, aims, 
 and admirations, alienates and divides men, love and de- 
 votion to the same person or cause unite them, and bring 
 them into mutual sympathy ; and finally, Moral Freedom 
 for, while all 'independence is rebellion,' 'only in bowing 
 down before those greater than ourselves can we be truly 
 free.' 
 
 Now, this political scheme of Carlyle's is vitiated by its 
 neglect of certain great Laws of human life. Of these the 
 most important are 
 
 ist. That men must have change and rotation in the 
 objects of their admiration and worship. 
 
 2nd. That men are essentially alike in nature. 
 That men must have change in the objects of their admi- 
 ration, and in consequence must have a succession and 
 rotation of ideals and heroes, is a law of human life which 
 accompanies us from the cradle to the grave. Toys, 
 games, athletics, school and college admirations, maidens, 
 women of different types, books, heroes, are, one after 
 another, outgrown and cast aside in the onward progress 
 of thought, experience, and culture. Men, I am aware, 
 do not all pass through this long line of ascending ideals 
 in all its stages. Many have their feelings of reverence and
 
 THE POLITICS OF CARLYLE. 169 
 
 : admiration so fully satisfied at certain points in their 
 progress, that they care to go no farther. For while a few 
 
 can find full scope for their admiration and worship in 
 God alone, others are satisfied with the great masters of 
 human thought and effort ; and others, again, stop short 
 
 even at Martin Tupper and the ' Country Parson.' In 
 general it may be said that the distance along the line 
 at which men are arrested and enchained is in direct ratio 
 to their mental power, and marks, on the one hand, their 
 weakness and torpidity of thought, or, on the other, its 
 penetration and audacity. Although different men may 
 thus go different lengths before they find satisfaction for 
 their feelings of admiration or worship, nevertheless the 
 law remains, that so long as there is in men life and aspir- 
 ation, they must have a change of ideals and heroes. Any 
 attempt to chain the mind to some outgrown and departed 
 love, any attempt to force on us ideals that are foreign to 
 our tastes or culture, would be of all despotisms the most 
 intolerable. Who would attempt, for example, to keep a 
 man's imagination chained to the tops and marbles that 
 delighted his boyhood, or the heroes and writers that 
 fascinated his youth ? Even the true heroes, the fixed 
 stars in the firmament, the great warriors, poets, states- 
 men, philosophers and divines, gradually lose the excessive 
 importance with which we once invested them, and unless 
 we abort early or fossilise before our time, we outgrow 
 their authority and influence, if not their genius, until at 
 last even their most shining achievements, when pressed 
 exclusively on our admiration, become stale'and wearisome. 
 In the progress of life new loves, new ambitions, new 
 
 designs, interest and delight us in turn, and accordingly 
 we require new men, new heroes, new ideals. Time itself, 
 if it does not alter our ideals, changes us who look at 
 them, and as we change, they assume different aspects and 
 lustres. ' No man can bathe twice in the same river,' 
 nor can two generations of men quite regard the same 
 person alike. No Hero can be so firmly rooted in our
 
 1 70 THE GOAL. 
 
 hearts, but in this onward flux of all things he is sure to- 
 drift away from us, or we from him. Hence, to elevate a 
 Hero for our admiration and worship, and to expect that 
 from the ever-shifting standpoints from which in this 
 stream of Time we must regard him, he will always remain 
 our model and beau-ideal, is absurd. Nor is this all. 
 Even were our Hero-worships fixed and unalterable, we 
 should have still to confront the fact that they are 
 determined by such subtle, recondite, and personal con- 
 siderations, that it would be as impossible to get all men 
 to worship the same hero, as to get all women to worship 
 the same man. Men's ideals are as various as their 
 tastes, feelings, and culture; and consequently no genius, 
 however transcendent, no character and personality how- 
 ever commanding, will be everyone's model and exemplar, 
 will fall into the focus of everyone's admiration. Carlyle 
 imagined that it was only necessary to find the true Hero, 
 and men would all recognise him to be their lawful master 
 and bend before him ; and to find him he would ransack 
 all classes of society indifferently. But the fact is, men 
 are not led by intrinsic virtues at all, but only by such 
 virtues as fascinate the Imagination, by reason of the halo* 
 with which circumstances, such as fame, position, power, 
 wealth, have surrounded them. Who, for example, would 
 make a hero and exemplar of a working-man in an aristo- 
 cratic country, however intrinsically great he might be ? 
 Who would make a hero of a literary recluse in a warlike 
 age, or of a poor man in an age of industry ? Carlyle 
 himself confesses that Bobus, with his vulgar money-bags, 
 must of necessity choose some Bobissimus as his hero. 
 But he erred in imagining that the world could be made 
 to embrace true ideals by descanting on their beauties,, 
 and in not perceiving that the ideals of the great masses 
 of men are determined by general social and national 
 conditions, and that these conditions must be changed 
 before higher ideals can arise. 
 
 But even supposing that men should agree in their-
 
 THE POLITICS OF CARLYLE. 171 
 
 choice of a hero, and should remain faithful to him, there 
 is nevertheless in the heroes themselves a large element of 
 illusion. The more nearly they are seen, the more 
 apparent becomes their identity with, and likeness to r 
 ordinary mortals. It is this that has given reason and 
 currency to the old saying that " no man is a hero to his 
 valct-de-chambre." The fact is, men are great in their 
 own speciality, in some one or more phases of intellect or 
 character, but none are full-orbed ; and there are, perhaps,, 
 thousands of obscure men who excel the Greatest Man in 
 all points except his best. It is my turn at the top to-day,, 
 yours to-morrow, according to the kind of ability required,, 
 and the character of the work to be done. Who, then,, 
 amid the infinite variety of Great Men, is to be the 
 supremely Great Man before whom all the rest are to 
 bend ? Is it to be the Statesman, the Poet, the Priest,, 
 the Philosopher, or the Man of the World and affairs ? Is. 
 there a natural hierarchy among great men ; and if so,, 
 which is the highest and best ? If not, what is to be our 
 principle of selection ? 
 
 The above is a brief general outline of the Political and 
 Social Schemes of Comte and Carlyle. Now, as Comte 
 and Carlyle are the most eminent exponents of the 
 doctrine that Humanity, as a whole, is the end of political 
 action, the Utopias into which they have fallen are not only 
 the best refutations of the truth of their doctrine, but 
 indirectly lend support to the view here maintained, viz.,, 
 that the Elevation and Expansion of the Individual is the 
 end of Government, as it is of Nature. I am aware it may 
 be said that if all schemes that make Humanity as a 
 whole their primary concern, must end in despotism ; all 
 schemes that aim at the elevation and expansion of the 
 Individual, must end in anarchy. But a little consideration 
 will show that this is not necessarily the case. Everyone 
 admits that Order and Duty, on the one hand, and Liberty 
 and Expansion on the other, are equally necessary for 
 steady progress, as indeed they are the two poles on
 
 i 7 2 THE GOAL 
 
 which a healthy political activity revolves. But there is 
 this immense difference between them, that while liberty 
 and expansion are ends in themselves, order and duty are 
 only means. The result is, that if we preach order and 
 duty we do not compass our end, viz., liberty and expan- 
 sion, but, on the contrary, as w r e have seen, we strangle 
 liberty and run into despotism ; whereas, if we preach 
 liberty and expansion, we run in a line with the ends 
 to which Nature is working, and can rely on her sublime 
 compensations to give us all the order and stability we 
 require. A number of persons, for example, find them- 
 selves on an uninhabited island, where they determine to 
 settle and make for themselves and families a home. 
 Under such circumstances would there be any necessity of 
 preaching the duty of patriotism ? Would it not arise 
 spontaneously out of the situation, and be felt by all to 
 be a binding law on every member of the Community ? 
 In like manner, if having settled, they should proceed to 
 enter into business relations among themselves, what 
 necessity would there be of preaching commercial honor 
 and integrity and the duty of not stealing ? Would not a 
 code of commercial honor spring up spontaneously, and be 
 strong in proportion as positive enactments on the subject 
 were weak ? So, too, if we give men common aims, 
 interests, and education, what necessity will there be of 
 preaching helpfulness and sympathy ? We need have no 
 fear, then, of insisting on the elevation and expansion 
 of the Individual as the end of political action, but can 
 rely on the necessities of time, place, and circumstance 
 .giving us all the order and stability we require.
 
 PART III-THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE LAW OF WILLS AND CAUSES. 
 
 BEFORE attempting to estimate the effects of Religion in 
 general on what we have seen to be the end not only of 
 Government, but also of Nature, viz., the elevation and 
 expansion of the individual mind, it is necessary to pause 
 for a moment and consider the new phase into which 
 Religion has entered in these later times, the new form it 
 has assumed, and the new definition and extension which, 
 in consequence, have been given to the term ; as by so 
 doing we shall be in a better position to estimate the pro- 
 babilities of this new form superseding the older forms, 
 and becoming itself the true and final form. With this 
 object, I have selected for examination the ' Religion of 
 Humanity ' of Auguste Comte. Not that I imagine that 
 this Religion is held only by Comte and his avowed 
 followers ; on the contrary, I am aware that multitudes 
 are travelling towards the same goal, though under quite 
 different colours. For when once the material Universe 
 has been stripped of a Ruling Mind, as soul and reason of 
 its existence ; when once its Cause is regarded as unknow- 
 able, and therefore practically questionable or even deni- 
 able ; it is evident that, unless the religious sentiment is to 
 die out altogether, an object must be found for it in the 
 natural world. And what so likely as that Humanity 
 should be that object ? And, sure enough, we find that
 
 i 74 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 many of the leading Agnostics and Materialists of the day, 
 although far from avowing that Humanity is the object of 
 their religion, or raising it into a definite ' cult,' never- 
 theless find their highest consolation and reward in working 
 for its good, in each and all of its several aspects, physical, 
 intellectual, and moral. And what is this but practically 
 making Humanity the object of their religion, in the sense, 
 at least, in which the term is used by Comte himself. 
 Nor is it the Materialists only who make Humanity the 
 object of their religion. Many of those who have discarded 
 Revelation, and who feel that the existence of God is, at 
 best, a hypothesis, incapable of verification, are travelling 
 towards the same religious goal. The author of Ecce 
 Homo, for example, who represents the tendency of many 
 of the best minds both outside and inside the Church, 
 distinctly declares that when once we shall have made up 
 our minds to put Nature in the place of God, and 
 Humanity in the place of Christ, Religion will again 
 exercise the same influence over men's minds as it did of 
 -old. It is not, therefore, because I believe that the followers 
 of Comte are the only persons who make Humanity the 
 object of their religion, that I have selected the works of 
 that eminent philosopher for examination, but because he 
 has given the conception its most complete and systematic 
 statement, and has indicated with the greatest definiteness, 
 the goal towards which so many are consciously or uncon- 
 sciously tending. 
 
 In a former chapter I pointed out the great Laws of 
 Human Life which Comte had neglected in making 
 Humanity the central point of Politics. I shall now 
 endeavour to point out the great laws he has neglected in 
 making it the central point and object of Religion. But 
 before doing so it is desirable that the reader should have a 
 clear idea of how the "Religion of Humanity" arose in 
 the mind of Auguste Comte, and of the train of thought 
 which, with him, gave it clearness, coherence, and cogency. 
 
 In considering the reasons that induced Comte to make
 
 THE LAW OF WILLS AND CAUSES. 175 
 
 Humanity the central point of his Political Scheme, I 
 pointed out that from the time that the Human Race as a 
 whole could be shown to have passed, like other organisms, 
 through a regular course and order of development 
 successive stages of infancy, youth, and maturity, known 
 as the Theological, Metaphysical, and Positive stages of 
 thought Humanity could no longer be regarded as a mere 
 aggregate of individuals, in the same sense in which a 
 forest is regarded as a mere aggregate of trees, but must 
 be regarded as a distinct organism in the true sense of 
 that term ; the individuals, like the separate cells of an 
 organism, being mere metaphysical abstractions, with no 
 independent life or completeness in themselves. And, 
 accordingly, notwithstanding the fallacies which we found 
 underlying this conception, we saw that it was both natural 
 and logical that Comte should make Humanity, and not 
 the Individual, the central point of his Political System. 
 But we were not prepared to find that he had also made 
 it the central point and object of Religion. For forty 
 centuries the object of Religion had been either a Being 
 or beings lying behind the visible world invisible Wills 
 that were the secret movers of events, and were called the 
 gods. That anyone, therefore, should venture to bring 
 down this object from Heaven to earth, from the Creator 
 to creatures of a da}', was, indeed, a new departure, calcu- 
 lated to shock our most cherished notions. Nevertheless, 
 in spite of our astonishment, a real coherence and con- 
 sistency will be found in the chain of thought by which 
 he arrives at the conception of Humanity as the object of 
 Religion ; and to this I now invite the reader's attention. 
 
 To begin with, it is evident that Humanity cannot be 
 placed on a secure basis as the object of Religion, until 
 the belief in the Deity has been completely done away 
 with, as otherwise the mere fact of His existence, whether 
 He interfered in human affairs or not, would be sufficient 
 of itself to compel men's worship, in the face of all less 
 consecrated authorities. Even the mere suspicion of His
 
 I? 6 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 existence would split the allegiance of the mind in twain,, 
 by the rival authority which would set up its claims in 
 the imaginations of men. To get rid of the Deity, there- 
 fore, was Comte's first concern ; and in this attempt he 
 was favoured by the temper of the age in which he was 
 born. At the time of his appearance, Science had already 
 carried her torch into every corner of Nature, and so far 
 as her light had penetrated, phenomena were seen to 
 follow an inviolable order, and not to be subject to that 
 caprice which would have characterized them had they 
 been under the dominion of wills like our own visible or 
 invisible. The consequence was, that a conviction was 
 engendered in the best minds, that if any phenomenon or 
 event were inexplicable, it was not because it did not 
 follow a law, or have its causes in natural antecedents, but 
 merely that, for the time being, its cause or law had not 
 been discovered. As this conviction of the universality of 
 Law grew, Revelation, which attributed events to those 
 disturbances of law known as miraculous or supernatural 
 interpositions, necessarily lost its hold over the best minds, 
 until at last it became almost entirely discredited. With 
 the fall of Revelation, fell the belief in the Deity that rested 
 on it ; or, at any rate, from that time forwards the belief 
 in Him must stand or fall by the same kind of evidence as 
 produces belief in other domains of thought, and must be 
 reached through the same media by which all other know- 
 ledge is attained, viz., through the natural human faculties. 
 But it is generally believed that all knowledge or belief that 
 comes through the natural human faculties must fall within 
 the general domain of Science. If, then, the existence of 
 the Deity should prove to be beyond the reach of Science, 
 what reason would there be for believing in His existence 
 at all ? Now, with Science, it is an axiom that every cir- 
 cumstance and event has its cause in antecedent circum- 
 stances and surrounding conditions. All, therefore, that 
 Science can deal with, or take cognizance of, are the laws 
 which events obey, not their efficient or final causes. It
 
 THE LAW OF WILLS AND CAUSES. 177 
 
 can discover, for example, that bodies fall to the ground 
 after a certain law, the law of gravitation but what the 
 cause of gravitation may be, it does not profess to know. 
 It can discover that men's actions are the results of certain 
 motives, and that these motives spring from a combination 
 of passions and desires, but what the raison d'etre of these 
 passions or desires may be, or why, indeed, they should 
 exist at all, it admits to be quite beyond its reach. It can 
 trace the connexion of the links in that chain of circum- 
 stance and event which constitute the phenomena of the 
 world as they unfold themselves in Time, but confesses 
 itself quite incapable of discovering the existence of any 
 Great Cause underlying the whole procession of events in 
 past, present, and future, and giving them their aim, reason, 
 and animating principle. The consequence is, that it as 
 completely ignores the existence of the Deity as it would 
 the existence of a star which was admitted to be beyond 
 the reach of the telescope, and which hung only on the 
 credibility of some old tradition of the childhood of the 
 race. But merely to show that there is no reason for be- 
 lieving in the existence of the Deity is not enough. Before 
 we can logically discard Him altogether, we must also 
 find some natural reason for his having been believed in at 
 :all ; just as we entirely discard the alleged phenomena of 
 Spiritualism, not when we have proved that they are, a 
 priori, incredible, but only when we have shown how they 
 can be produced ' by merely natural human agencies. 
 Now this is precisely what Comte professes to have 
 done. He shows that the belief in the existence of Super- 
 natural beings or gods was not a chance thing, a casual, 
 capricious, or accidental thing, but was the necessary and 
 inevitable result of a great Law of the Human Mind, the 
 law, viz., that when the laws of Nature are unknown, men 
 refer events to the agency of wills like their own. How 
 true this law is may be seen on all hands. Children, for 
 example, who most clearly exhibit the native tendencies of 
 ihe human mind when uninstructed by positive knowledge,
 
 178 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 habitually refer events to the agency of wills like their own,, 
 and ascribe personality to the fire that burns them, the 
 wind that blows on them, to the sun and moon, the clouds 
 and rain, and all the natural forces. As we grow up to- 
 maturity, and learn more and more of the natural causes 
 of events, we have no necessity for so many invisible 
 agencies, and consequently ascribe personality only to 
 those events that are still dark, capricious, or uncertain. 
 For example, the natural laws that regulate the tides, or 
 the changes of the moon, are so well known that we can 
 predict these phenomena as easily as the return of morning 
 or of night ; but not so the laws that regulate the changes 
 in the weather. The consequence is, that while no one 
 now dreams of praying for any change in the moon or 
 tides, there are many of weak scientific faith who still 
 continue to pray for rain or sunshine. The reason lies in 
 that law of the human mind above enunciated, whereby 
 we ascribe what seems uncertain and capricious, not to 
 steadfast and immutable Laws, but to capricious Wills 
 wills which, like our own, can be invoked and altered by 
 prayer. When thunder was believed to be the voice of 
 Jupiter, and the lightning his bolt, that deity was duly 
 invoked, in magnificent temples, to stay his avenging hand,, 
 or turn it against the enemy. But from the time that 
 these or the like phenomena were found to be due to 
 natural causes, the worship of the deity has ceased, he 
 himself has become a myth, and his temples have fallen 
 into ruin and disappeared. At one time the appearance 
 of an eclipse, or of a comet, in the sky, \vas looked upon 
 with awe, as a portent, a visible sign of the displeasure of 
 some deity, who was to be appeased by the same methods 
 as would be taken to appease an enraged human being. 
 But when the nature or causes of these appearances 
 became known, men ceased to refer them to the opera- 
 tion of invisible wills, and regarded them with as little con- 
 cern as they did the sun or moon. And yet, even now, those 
 old-fashioned people who have never heard of a scientific
 
 THE LAW OF WILLS AND CAUSES. i ?9 
 
 law, still regard them with the same superstitious awe as, 
 when boys, we regarded any strange or unaccountable 
 noises we heard in the night, noises which in our fears we 
 ascribed to invisible wills peopling the darkness ghosts, 
 spirits, and the like. 
 
 So true and pregnant is the law we have just illustrated 
 the law, viz., that when natural causes are unknown events 
 are attributed to the agency of wills like our own that 
 we might have known, a priori, that the religions of the 
 world must go through the successive stages of Animism 
 or Fetischism, Polytheism, and Monotheism. I mean, of 
 course, only in the most general way, for the specialties of 
 form which the different religions have assumed in the 
 different ages and countries, are the results of the union of 
 this law with local circumstances and conditions which 
 have long passed away unknown, and therefore could not 
 have been predicted. In the earliest stages of human 
 progress, as in the earliest years of the individual, the laws 
 which phenomena obeyed being little known, the nature 
 and movements of objects were ascribed to the agency of 
 special wills dwelling in the objects themselves. These 
 wills were regarded as the real causes of the phenomena 
 observed, and so we had Fetischism. As the knowledge 
 of natural causes extended, and observation and experience 
 detected uniformity and law in what had hitherto been 
 apparently capricious and uncertain, many objects were 
 found to act alike in groups. The god then presided over 
 the group and not over the individual, and so we had 
 Polytheism. But as the god could not dwell in all the mem- 
 bers of the group at once, he was relegated to a distance, 
 and a metaphysical substitute or representative of himself 
 was installed in the object; this metaphysical abstraction 
 being known as the nature of the object, its essence, 
 vital principle, and the like. With the further advance 
 of natural knowledge, the jurisdictions of the different 
 deities (invaded by natural law on every side) so overlapped 
 one another, that it was felt to be impossible that so many
 
 i So THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 different wills should harmonize. They were all, in conse- 
 quence, reduced under the dominion of one, and so we had 
 Monotheism. Carrying the law a step further, Comte 
 contended that, when the last capriciousness of Nature 
 shall have been removed, when all phenomena shall be 
 seen to fall under the dominion of natural laws, so as to 
 be anticipated with greater and greater precision, then the 
 jurisdiction of the gods will become less and less, until, 
 with no need for their help, and no evidence for their 
 existence, they will fade away into nonentity, and be 
 dropped at last from the memory and language of men. 
 In this way Comte, by showing that the belief in the gods 
 or God is the necessary result of a law of the human mind 
 operating on the imagination in the earlier stages of culture, 
 completely gets rid of the Deity as the object of Religion. 
 Having thus given the Deity his quietus, Comte finds the 
 Religious Sentiment still alive and confronting him, and 
 has to determine whether it is a mere passing phase of 
 human nature, which (now that it has lost its object) must 
 soon pass away, or whether it is a permanent sentiment in 
 man, but one which has hitherto mistaken its true object. 
 He decides that it is a permanent sentiment, but one that 
 has hitherto mistaken its true object ; and in this he sees 
 nothing unusual or exceptional. The sentiments have 
 always been regarded as mere blind impulses which had 
 to be enlightened by the intellect as to their true objects. 
 Love, for example, although a permanent sentiment in the 
 breast of man, changes its object with years and experi- 
 ence, and the person we loved yesterday, becomes, under 
 the more critical judgment of to-day, indifferent to us. 
 What was once beautiful to us is now repulsive, and what 
 we once believed to be excellent, is now tawdry and offen- 
 sive. Courage, too, which, some centuries ago, showed 
 itself in personal prowess, now finds its highest glory in 
 championing forlorn causes, and in braving, for high ideals, 
 public or private censure. Avarice, which at first has for its 
 object the pleasures which money brings, ends by having
 
 THE LAW OF WILLS AND CAUSES. 181 
 
 for its object the money itself. And so, too, with our 
 feelings of hope and fear, which change their objects with 
 the changing and vanishing year. These, and the like 
 instances, show that there is no inherent absurdity in 
 supposing that, if once the intellect has shown that the 
 existence of the Deity is an illusion, the object of the 
 religious sentiment may be found elsewhere. The question 
 then becomes, with Comte, what is its true object, and 
 where is it to be found ? Is it the Laws of Nature ? It 
 cannot be the laws of Nature, for we have seen that so- 
 soon as the laws of any object are discovered, that object 
 ceases to be worshipped ; the worship being transferred to 
 those objects whose movements are still capricious and 
 uncertain, that is, to those supposed to be the seat of 
 indwelling wills. Astrolatry, for example, had long passed 
 away, and the stars had long ceased to have any interest 
 for human beings, when men still continued to worship 
 and propitiate comets and eclipses as being the visible 
 manifestations of the Divine Will. The Laws of Nature, 
 therefore, are not the natural objects of Religion. Besides, 
 the Laws of Nature, although we must bend to them or be 
 broken by them, can of themselves neither be loved, wor- 
 shipped, nor reverenced. They are lower than the mind of 
 man, and therefore cannot be reverenced ; they are hard 
 and inflexible, and therefore cannot be propitiated; they 
 are impersonal, and therefore cannot call forth human senti- 
 ment. It is true that if they were regarded as instruments of 
 a Divine Will, they might be worshipped as such, but 
 Comte, having killed the Deity, and left Nature to herself 
 as a huge hulk and corpse, the laws of Nature cannot be 
 to him the object of Religion. What, then, is the true 
 object ? If we consider the nature of the religious senti- 
 ment itself, we shall get a hint as to the direction in which 
 we are to look. We shall find that the group of feelings 
 which make up the religious sentiment in man, viz., love, 
 admiration, reverence, are not a group exclusively set 
 apart for the Deity, but are precisely the same feelings that
 
 1 82 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 have their appropriate objects among our fellow-men. 
 When the apostle, for example, asked, how can ye love 
 God whom ye have not seen, if ye love not your brother 
 whom ye have seen, he implied that the feeling of love 
 that goes out to God as part of the religious sentiment, 
 is the same feeling that goes out towards our fellow-man. 
 When Carlyle said that the real religion that was in a man 
 was his practical Hero-worship, he assumed that the 
 reverence we have for God is the same feeling as the 
 reverence we have for the great men of the world. And 
 thus we see there is no necessity of going to the invisible 
 world to find the object of a sentiment which has already 
 its appropriate object in this world. If we take a glance at 
 the religions of the world historically, we shall find there, 
 too, that what was really worshipped in the old religions 
 was not so much the invisible Deity as such, as the 
 human qualities with which he was supposed to be en- 
 dowed. It was the human qualities of Jehovah his 
 wisdom, goodness, and fatherly care, his power, jealousy, 
 and revenge that were loved and feared, rather than the 
 mere fact of his invisible and supernatural existence. It 
 was the beautiful human character of Christ, rather than 
 the mere abstract fact of his being the Son of God, that 
 called forth human love. The true object of Religion, 
 therefore, when found, must be something that can be 
 endowed with human qualities, and not a mere abstraction. 
 If, then, the object of Religion must be something real 
 and tangible, and not imaginary and invisible ; something 
 with human attributes, and not, like the Laws of Nature, 
 the Persistence of Force, the Unknowable, a mere ab- 
 straction; it must either be some one or more individual 
 men or the Human Race in general. Carlyle, as we have 
 seen, elevated Great Men into objects of human worship, 
 not on their own account so much, as because they were 
 the best symbols and representatives on earth of that 
 Divine Mind which alone can completely satisfy the infinite 
 aspirations of man's soul, and which alone can meet those
 
 THE LAW OF WILLS AND CAUSES. 183 
 
 infinite possibilities which in imagination we can realise, 
 but which in this life we have not found and shall not find. 
 But Comte, on the contrary, believing in no Divine Mind 
 of which Great Men can be the symbols or representatives, 
 could not erect individual men into objects of worship. 
 He saw that no man has the necessary universality and 
 completeness of nature, nor yet the necessary duration, 
 to become the object of a universal religion. The human 
 race soon outgrows the greatest individuals, and, after using 
 them as ladders, leaves them behind in its ascending pro- 
 gress. The greatest great man is, after all, only a beauti- 
 ful fragment or torso, not complete ; and, as Emerson 
 says, is like a piece of Labrador spar, which shows beauti- 
 ful colours only when held at a particular angle. It would 
 take all the fragments in their beautiful diversity the 
 poets, artists, musicians, statesmen, and philosophers 
 to give us anything like the universality of excellence 
 which we require. Besides, as we have seen, Comte 
 regards individual men as he would the separate cells of 
 the human body, viz., as abstractions, with no independent 
 life in themselves ; and would deem it as absurd to make 
 them the objects of a Universal Religion, as he would to 
 make one cell in the body the object of worship to another, 
 instead of the great organism itself, of which they are all 
 parts, and to whose welfare they all minister and are sub- 
 ordinate. If, then, Great Men are not the true objects 
 of Religion, there is left only as alternative that Great 
 Humanity of which they form a part, " in whom we live, 
 move, and have our being," and in the stream of whose 
 swelling tide Great Men are cast up as larger or smaller 
 bubbles merely. This, according to Comte, is our real 
 Supreme Being, and gives satisfaction alike to our feelings 
 of reverence, attachment, and love. We can reverence 
 Humanity, because it is greater than ourselves, as to it we 
 owe all that is best in ourselves. We are the heirs of all 
 the past ages in the life of that Great Being, and were we 
 stripped to-day of all that we have got from the Past, and
 
 184 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 left to ourselves, we should have to start afresh as savages.. 
 We can assist Humanity, because it is imperfect, and all 
 the good we do, whether by word or deed, directly helps 
 to benefit and perfect it. We can love Humanity and- 
 sympathize with it, because, unlike the lower world, it is of 
 the same nature as ourselves. In short, we can worship 
 it, and devote our lives and souls to its service. 
 
 Such, in brief, is the train of thought by which Comte 
 makes Humanity the object of Religion. In endeavouring 
 to point out the fallacies that pervade it, I shall follow in 
 his own footsteps, and, as his first endeavour is to get rid 
 of the Deity, and then to put Humanity in His place, I 
 shall try, in the two following chapters, to show, first, that 
 he cannot get rid of the Deity ; and, secondly, that, even if 
 he could, he could not make Humanity the object of human 
 worship.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 
 
 IN the sketch I have given of Comte's doctrine in the last 
 chapter, we have seen that, to get rid of the Deity, he relies 
 on deductions drawn from two great principles. The first 
 principle is that Science, which includes in its domain all 
 knowledge properly so-called, can know nothing of a Deity, 
 as it deals with the Laws of Nature only; and therefore 
 there is no reason for believing in His existence. The- 
 second principle is that it is a law of the human mind that,, 
 when the laws of Nature are unknown, men refer events 
 to the agency of wills like their own ; and, consequently,, 
 that, the belief in the Deity having its origin in this fact, 
 when all phenomena shall be shown to be governed by 
 natural laws, there will be no room for a Deity at all. 
 Now, nothing can better exemplify the weight and import- 
 ance I attach to these two principles than my conviction 
 that, on a just interpretation of them, the whole question of 
 Theism on the one hand, and of Atheism and Materialism 
 on the other, turns : and, furthermore, that I am willing 
 to stake my own religious beliefs on the issue. In the 
 meantime, while no Materialist or Atheist more fully 
 believes than I do that Science can know nothing of 
 God, nevertheless, instead of becoming a Materialist or 
 Atheist, I remain a Theist ; while no Positivist is more fully 
 convinced that it is a law of the human mind that, when
 
 i86 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 natural causes are unknown, men refer phenomena to the 
 agency of wills like their own, nevertheless, instead of 
 regarding God as a mere illusion of the imagination, I 
 affirm and uphold His existence. It will perhaps prove 
 not uninteresting to the reader to follow the chain of 
 thought whereby, from so fundamental an agreement in 
 principle, so wide a difference in conclusion is reached. 
 
 To consider, then, Comte's first great point, viz., that 
 because Science can know nothing of a Deity, therefore 
 there can be no reason for believing in His existence. 
 Now, I may as well state at once that the reason I admit 
 the premises of this proposition and dispute the conclusion, 
 is because of the distinction that I see to exist between 
 knowledge and belief a distinction, indeed, on which the 
 whole question turns, but which, so far as I am aware, 
 has not hitherto been brought forward with sufficient dis- 
 tinctness, not sufficiently dissected out from among the 
 vague and mingled tissue of intuitions and feelings with 
 which Materialism has been assailed. But, as the argu- 
 ment is more or less involved, I shall be obliged to take a 
 somewhat circuitous route to my end, and shall begin by 
 marking out the limits within which the discussion must 
 range. And first, then, I would observe that in all specula- 
 tions on the origin of the World and the nature of Things, 
 the question is not what is the truth absolutely, and apart 
 from its relation to ourselves, but what is the truth rela- 
 tively to the human mind, with its fixed and definite organi- 
 zation, its special and peculiar intuitions and powers. It is 
 not a question of what would be true for us were we 
 endowed with one or two senses more, one or two senses 
 less, with one or two faculties and intuitions more or less ; 
 but of what is true for us with our five senses and the various 
 attributes of imagination, sentiment, and reason, which 
 we are all known to possess. The question, in a word, is 
 not what might be true for a higher order of being, or for 
 a lower order of being, but what is true for the normal 
 human mind. If this must be the case, it is evident that
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 187 
 
 Truth in general, and, in consequence, Belief, can be for us 
 nothing more or less than what will harmonize with our 
 mental constitution. Truth, to a monkey, is simply what 
 will harmonize with the mind of a monkey, such as it is ; 
 although that creature could never be taught to see truths 
 that to us are as clear as day. Truth, to a higher order of 
 intelligence than man, would simply be what would har- 
 monize with that intelligence ; although to it the air might 
 be seen full of spirits which to us are invisible and unknown. 
 If, then, Truth in general, and therefore Belief, can be for a 
 human being nothing more than what will harmonize with 
 his mental constitution, any particular truth will be to him 
 merely what will harmonize with all the other truths held 
 by him. If I am asked to assent to a given proposition, 
 I consider whether it will harmonize with all the other 
 truths of a like nature held by me ; if it does, I accept it, 
 if not, I reject it. The reason the madman believes his 
 disordered fancies is because they harmonize with his 
 particular hallucination ; the reason we do not believe them 
 is because to do so would be to destroy the harmony of 
 our own minds. When a truer system of belief supersedes 
 a falser one, as the Copernican the Ptolemaic system of 
 astronomy, what happens? Merely that a greater and 
 wider harmony supersedes a lesser and narrower one a 
 harmony that includes more facts directly, and indirectly 
 accounts for more apparent anomalies. If, then, truth in 
 general and in particular can be for human beings nothing 
 more than what will harmonize with their mental consti- 
 tution, and their stage of knowledge and culture, it will 
 not be difficult to show that many of the fundamental 
 truths on which our ordinary intelligence, and even sanity, 
 rest, although they must be believed, cannot be known by 
 Science. An examination of a few of the more pregnant 
 of these beliefs will be sufficient to explode that fond 
 illusion of the Materialists which has so long been regarded 
 by them as an axiom of thought, viz., that what cannot be
 
 1 88 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 known by Science, may logically be discarded or ignored.. 
 These beliefs may be tabulated as follows : 
 
 1. The belief in the existence of a world outside our- 
 
 selves. 
 
 2. The belief in the existence of Mind in our fellow- 
 man. 
 
 3. The belief in the superiority of Mind to Matter, of" 
 
 Heroism to Self-indulgence, and the like. 
 
 4. The belief in the Persistence of Force. 
 
 5. The belief in the co-existence of attractive and repul- 
 
 sive forces. 
 
 6. The belief in Scientific Causation. 
 
 Should I succeed in showing that these truths, which we 
 are bound to believe, cannot be known by Science, I shall 
 have done away with Comte's great argument against the 
 belief in the existence of the Deity, viz., that He cannot be 
 known by Science. 
 
 1. The belief in the existence of a world outside of ourselves. 
 The table, for example, at which I am writing, how do I 
 know that it exists outside of me ? If I look at it, touch 
 it, or in any way handle it, all I can know of it is the 
 consciousness of various sensations within me, not outside 
 of me. Not only its form and colour, but also its hardness 
 and solidity, are sensations existing within me, within my 
 own consciousness ; the proof being that if my nerves of 
 sight were destroyed, I could not see it ; if my nerves of 
 sensation, I could not feel it ; if all were destroyed, I 
 could not know of its existence at all. And yet, although 
 all I can know scientifically of the table are sensations 
 within me, my mind is so constructed that it must believe 
 it to exist outside of me. To believe otherwise, and to 
 act on the belief, were madness, and proof that the balance 
 and harmony of the mind had been overthrown. 
 
 2. The existence of what is called Mind in our fellow-man. 
 How do I know that my friend has such a thing as a 
 mind ? I can neither see it, feel it, or in any way expose
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 189 
 
 .it, by microscope or scalpel, retort or chemical re-agent. 
 If my belief in it depended on what I could know of it 
 scientifically, I should not believe in its existence at all, 
 for the crowning boast of scientific knowledge is that all its 
 conclusions are capable of being brought in the last resort 
 to the test of the senses. The existence of mind in our 
 fellow-man, like the existence of God, is a mere hypothe- 
 sis. It cannot be known by Science, and yet we are 
 bound to believe it, as it is one of the fundamental 
 assumptions on which a large part of our intelligence is 
 built. 
 
 3. The belief in the superiority of Mind to Matter, of Hero- 
 ism to Self -Indulgence. How do we know that Mind is 
 superior to Matter, and that the nobler sentiments of the 
 mind are higher in their nature than the sensual and selfish 
 ones ? How do we know that heroism, magnanimity, and 
 self-sacrifice are higher than self-indulgence, grossness, and 
 sensuality ? The cells in the brain, from whose activity 
 these different emotions and attributes spring, are all alike 
 matter, alike indifferent ; and, so far as can be known by 
 Science, are equal in dignity. And yet we are forced to 
 believe that there is a difference in the rank of the cor- 
 responding emotions, otherwise the great bulk of literature 
 and conversation would be a mockery and a delusion ; 
 the great interest of human life the apportioning the 
 relative degrees of virtue and vice, praise and blame, 
 honor and dishonor would cease, or become an unreality 
 and absurdity. 
 
 4. The belief in the Persistence of Force, that is to say, in 
 the fact that the quantity of force in the Universe is fixed and 
 -definite. This belief, according to Mr. Spencer, the prince 
 of scientific thinkers, lies at the very root of all Science, 
 and is the secret source from which all the Laws of Nature 
 are derived. They are all corollaries, says Mr. Spencer, 
 from that one great fact. All scientific reasoning assumes 
 that force is fixed, for were it not, the scales (which are 
 simply measures of gravitative force), and other instru-
 
 igo THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 ments by which our scientific conclusions are verified,, 
 would vary* from day to da)-, or hour to hour, and so 
 render all scientific knowledge impossible. And therefore 
 the Persistence of Force, although it cannot be known, 
 must be believed. Mr. Spencer himself admits that, being 
 the basis of Science, it cannot be known by Science. It 
 is a splendid instance of the fact that much that cannot be 
 known by Science, must nevertheless be believed, other- 
 wise the orderly structure of our intelligence would 
 decompose and fall to pieces. 
 
 5. The belief that Matter exists under the form of co-existent 
 forces of attraction and repulsion. This is an instance of the 
 fact that what cannot be scientifically understood must 
 nevertheless be believed. As to the fact itself there can be no 
 doubt. If we take a solid body and try to pull its particles 
 apart, it resists our efforts, while if we try to press its par- 
 ticles together, it equally resists ; showing that it is made 
 up of particles which both attract and repel each other at 
 the same time. To this fact also is due the phenomena 
 of action and re-action in physics, and throughout Nature 
 generally. And yet it passes the scientific understanding 
 to realise how one force can attract another while resisting 
 it. Mr. Spencer himself says " We cannot truly repre- 
 sent one ultimate unit of matter as drawing another while 
 resisting it. Nevertheless, the belief is one we are com- 
 pelled to entertain." 
 
 6. The belief in Scientific Causation. The belief that 
 every effect must have a cause which is its equal in amount 
 is another instance of a truth that must be believed 
 although it cannot be scientifically known. There' is 
 nothing in the mere succession of phenomena to necessi- 
 tate our belief that they are connected by the relation of 
 cause and effect. As far as we can see or know, there is 
 nothing but a series of antecedents and consequents. And 
 yet we are bound to believe in the invisible link of causation 
 uniting things, otherwise the harmony of the mind would 
 be destroyed. The reason the fact of Scientific Causation
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES, 191 
 
 cannot be known by Science is, because it is in reality a 
 corollary of the Persistence of Force ; and as the Persis- 
 tence of Force (as we have just seen), cannot be known by 
 Science, neither can the fact of Causation. When we say 
 that a particular effect must have a cause, we merely mean 
 that the force of which it consists must have been taken 
 from somewhere else, that is to say, must have its cause 
 elsewhere. An effect occurs, for example, which we will 
 represent by the number four. We believe that two and 
 two, or three and one, must have preceded it, and we 
 search until we find them, and then we say we have found 
 the cause. To believe that four could have come into 
 existence without two and two, or other equivalent, pre- 
 ceding it, would be to believe that force could come into 
 existence of itself, which would be to deny the Persistence 
 of Force. 
 
 The above instances of the truth, that much that cannot 
 be known by Science must nevertheless be believed, are 
 among the foundation-stones on which the whole of our 
 intelligence is built. To deny the truth of them would be 
 to break up that little islet of harmony known as the Human 
 Reason, and to decompose and shatter our organized intel- 
 ligence to its base. To believe that there were no world 
 outside of ourselves ; that our fellow-men were automata 
 without minds ; that matter was equal or superior to mind, 
 and that the base and degrading things of the world were 
 as high as the noble and self-sacrificing ones ; that force 
 was shifting and unsteady, so that we could not be sure 
 that a pound to-day would weigh a pound to-morrow ; 
 that events could be sprung on us without a cause ; to 
 believe all this, and to act on it, would indeed be to bring 
 chaos into the world and madness into the mind. 
 
 If, then, the main foundation-stones on which our or- 
 ganized intelligence is built must be believed, although they 
 cannot be known by Science, Comte's first great argument 
 against the existence of the Deity, viz., that He cannot be 
 known by Science, falls to the ground.
 
 a 92 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 His second argument is that it is a Law of the Human 
 Mind that when natural causes are unknown, phenomena 
 are ascribed to the agency of wills like our own, visible or 
 invisible ; and consequently that when all phenomena shall 
 be referable to natural causes, there will be no room for a 
 Deity, and no reason for believing in His existence. I 
 shall now endeavour to show that the law used in this way 
 by Comte to get rid of the Deity, when rightly interpreted, 
 leads to the belief in His existence. 
 
 I remember well, when reading Comte's works for the 
 first time some years ago, how much I was struck with 
 the subtlety and profundity of many of his leading doctrines, 
 and, among others, with his splendid generalization of the 
 phases through which the Sciences, but more especially 
 Religion, had passed in their onward course and develop- 
 ment. But, notwithstanding my admiration, I felt some 
 dissatisfaction that he should, as I then thought, have 
 -drawn his great generalization from the immense array of 
 historical incidents detailed in his general survey, rather 
 than from some deep central law or laws of human life ; 
 believing, as I did, that, without some such laws of human 
 nature as backbone, History might be made to support almost 
 .any hypothesis, however superficial, fantastic or absurd. 
 On a second perusal, however, I found, to my delight and 
 .surprise, that he had really drawn his theory of religious 
 development, not so much from a survey of the historical 
 facts, as, more or less unconsciously, from a Law of the 
 Human Mind the law, viz., that, when their natural 
 causes are unknown, events are ascribed to wills like our 
 own and that it was his belief in the truth of this law that 
 gave him his confidence in the theory. As the truth of the 
 law dawned on my own mind, I felt that it was the most 
 profound and far-reaching principle that in my various 
 philosophical reading I had come across for many a year, 
 and that, when well pondered by men, its effects on their 
 religious beliefs would be simply immense. I saw that it 
 accounted in the most simple and natural way for the
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 193 
 
 successive phases of religious belief much more satis- 
 factorily, indeed, than Mr. Spencer's Ghost-theory, which, 
 although it harmonizes with Comte's law, is really only 
 a special corollary from it, and therefore not so central 
 and commanding. I saw that it explained the early 
 Animisms and Fetischisms, their passage into Poly- 
 theism, and finally into Monotheism ; and moreover, that 
 it accounted for the fact occasionally observed, that as 
 the generalizations of Science widened their areas so as to 
 embrace more and more phenomena that had previously 
 been unaccountable, men's prayers correspondingly con- 
 tracted, until at the present time they are restricted to 
 such uncertain and capricious phenomena as the weather, 
 health, and the fortunes of war. And when at church I 
 heard the prayers of clergymen for rain, and in the news- 
 papers read the prayers of archbishops for bountiful 
 harvests and success in arms, I said to myself, There it is 
 again, where causes are unknown, wills take their place. 
 And, indeed, it was with a certain sense of the ludicrous 
 that I remembered that whenever a new law of Nature had 
 been discovered, and phenomena that had hitherto been 
 fitful and capricious could be predicted with certainty, men 
 dropped their prayers for that particular class of pheno- 
 mena as quietly and stealthily as thieves, when suspected, 
 drop the goods they have stolen ; and I felt that nothing 
 much would be risked in prophesying that when once the 
 laws of the weather were well enough known to enable us to 
 predict it with a certainty which not the most superstitious 
 of archbishops or old women could deny, there would be 
 no more praying for rain. In short, I felt assured that 
 when once this simple law of Comte's were grasped in 
 all its fulness and significance, a bombshell would have 
 fallen into the camps of Theologians and ' Revivalists ' 
 of which they little dreamed, and such a collapse of old 
 fictions, such a strangling of old creeds and dogmas 
 would ensue as has been unknown since the breaking up 
 of Paganism. For months the law burnt in me like a 
 
 o
 
 194 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 lamp, and I could not rest until I had dragged from the 
 recesses of my mind all my most cherished convictions, to 
 see how they would square with the new principle. For a 
 time I feared that its logical implications would shake my 
 own faith to its base, and accordingly prepared myself 
 with the best grace I could, to renounce all I had previously 
 thought or written. But, just so surely as the law appeared 
 to lead to that unbelief in which it landed Comte, so surely 
 did a broad general oversight of the world and Nature 
 clear away the cobwebs, and confirm my belief in God. 
 Of the truth of the law itself I had no doubt, but all my 
 collateral principles ran counter to the conclusion to which 
 the law appeared to lead. I felt sure, therefore, that there 
 must be a flaw somewhere in the process of deduction, and 
 set myself to work to find it out. At last I got my eye on 
 it, and hope that it may not prove, like the egg of Colum- 
 bus, so trite as to be unworthy the reader's attention. 
 
 The law, to repeat it once more, is that when the natural 
 laws of phenomena are unknown, events are referred to the 
 agency of wills like our own. The inference Comte draws 
 is, that the belief in wills or deities is a mere makeshift to 
 conceal our ignorance of natural causes, and that now 
 that almost all cultivated persons believe that all events 
 whatsoever are explainable by natural causes, there is no 
 room for a Deity at all, and no reason left for believing in 
 His existence. Now, I will not deny that if the belief in God 
 rested on the necessity of finding some supernatural expla- 
 nation for natural phenomena not otherwise accounted 
 for, such belief would be soon doomed to extinction. 
 Where the fallacy lies is in the assumption that there is 
 nothing more requiring explanation than the connexion of 
 the various links in the chain of phenomena constituting 
 the Universe, whereas the fact is, the chain itself, as a whole, 
 has still to be accounted for. It is not enough that you 
 should account by natural causes for how I came here from 
 my parents, and the world preceding me, you must also 
 account for my being here at all. It is not enough that
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 195 
 
 you should explain how the Law of Evolution necessitates 
 the appearance of the stones, trees, flowers, animals, and 
 men, such as we know them, you have still to explain why 
 the original atoms out of which these things have been 
 evolved were so loaded with attractive and repulsive forces, 
 and not otherwise. A further illustration will perhaps 
 serve to make my meaning more clear to the reader. 
 Take, for example, a cannon fired by electricity. In the 
 earlier stages of human progress, as the connexion of the 
 different links in the process by which the cannon is fired 
 would not be understood, an invisible will would be believed 
 to be stationed at each point of connexion at the junction 
 of the battery with the wires, and of the wires with the 
 gunpowder in order to account for the phenomena ob- 
 served. But, from the time that civilization had advanced 
 far enough to enable men to account for the connexion of 
 the different parts by natural causes, no invisible inter- 
 ference would be necessary at any point of the circuit, 
 ;and none would be believed in. And yet, if no invisible 
 will were necessary at any point of the chain, we should 
 still be bound to refer the contrivance as a whole to an 
 intelligent will. It is the same with the World. At one 
 time the connexions of the various phenomena were so little 
 understood, that deities had to be assumed at almost every 
 link in the chain ; after a while, only here and there a one 
 was assumed at the more hidden connexions ; until finally 
 only one Deity was necessary, and He was allowed to 
 interfere only on rare occasions, and in certain more or ICSB 
 defined ways. At the present time, as I have said, it is 
 generally believed that all phenomena whatsoever are ex- 
 plainable by natural causes. Does this fact, if true, neces- 
 sarily do away with the Deity ? On the contrary, it only 
 shifts Him further back from interference at the con- 
 nexions of the links, to the design, aim, and reason of the 
 whole. Before the law of gravitation was discovered, Kepler 
 believed that the planets were kept in their orbits by spirits 
 who guided their courses ; that is to say, when the natural
 
 196 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 cause of the movement was unknown, he referred it to a 
 will like his own. When gravitation was discovered, it 
 was supposed to be a sufficient cause and no further 
 questions were asked about it. But does not gravitation 
 itself, and the part it plays in the system of things, require 
 a reason ? Comte and the Materialists ignore or forget 
 that even after the successive links in the chain of pheno- 
 mena are found to be explained by natural laws, the chain 
 as a whole, in past, present, and future, is itself a fact requir- 
 ing explanation. And as this is a fact that can never be 
 referred to natural causes for explanation, we are bound, by 
 the very terms of the law we are discussing, to refer it to 
 an intelligent Will or Deity. Not to do so would be to stul- 
 tify the very law to which we have given our adhesion, and 
 thereby to break up that harmony of the mind which we 
 have seen to be, for mortals, the last and only test of truth,, 
 the last and only foundation for belief. I am aware it may 
 be said that we have already discovered so many natural 
 causes for phenomena that were formerly unaccountable, 
 or believed to be supernatural, that there is no reason why, 
 at some future time, w r e should not discover the cause of 
 the Universe itself. In reply, I would only say that the 
 discoveries of man that constitute his civilization, are really 
 discoveries of the Laws of phenomena, not real Causes at all ; 
 and therefore that the Cause of the Universe can never be 
 known, but must be referred to an intelligent Will or Deity; 
 the nature of that Will whether it be good or bad, infinite 
 or finite, and the like being a fair subject for differences 
 of opinion, according to the depth of insight of the 
 observer into the constitution of that effect which is known 
 as the World. 
 
 And here I desire to refer to an anomaly in Comte 
 which I have by no means overlooked, but which for con- 
 venience I have reserved for this place. The reader will 
 have observed that I have assumed that Comte denied the 
 existence of the Deity. Now this is not precisely and 
 literally the fact. Although he really did not believe in
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 197 
 
 His existence, and although all his arguments, as we have 
 seen, lead to such disbelief, he nevertheless does not go 
 so far as absolutely to deny His existence. On the con- 
 trary, he asserts that if you will have a hypothesis of the 
 World (which he thinks very foolish of you), the hypothesis 
 of an Intelligent Mind is more probable than Atheism ; 
 but it is at best only a hypothesis. The reason of this 
 discrepancy between the logical outcome of his principles 
 .as well as his own private belief on the one hand, and his 
 avowed position on the other, is this that while he felt 
 there was no necessity to assume a Deity in order to 
 explain the connexion of the separate links in the chain of 
 phenomena known as the Universe, he could not rid him- 
 self of the obvious implication of his own law, that the 
 Universe as a whole must be referred to a Cause, and that 
 that Cause must be an intelligent Will. But by making his 
 own belief co-extensive only with what can be scientifically 
 known (the fallacy of which I have already demonstrated), 
 he was driven to deny practically the existence of a Deity ; 
 and by making Humanity the object of his religion, he was 
 bound practically to ignore Him altogether. 
 
 Having thus shown that Comte's two great arguments 
 against the existence of the Deity fall to the ground, before 
 proceeding further I feel bound to give greater complete- 
 ness to the present discussion by showing positive reasons 
 why the belief in the Deity is necessary to the harmony 
 of the mind. But first I must make some preliminary 
 observations to clear up misconceptions and put the reader 
 in a better position for judging the issues involved. To 
 begin with, I would observe that just as the image of 
 a camera on the wall is but the enlarged picture of the 
 image in the instrument, so theories of the World are but 
 enlarged pictures of theories of the Human Mind, and are 
 framed on the model of our own personal experiences. 
 I am aware, of course, that among a large number of 
 advanced minds at the present time, nothing is considered 
 more absurd and out of date than what is called Anthro-
 
 igS THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 pomorphism, or the endowing of the Great Cause of 
 Things with human attributes. To believe that the Deity 
 is constructed after the model of our own mind, is con- 
 sidered as ridiculous as to believe that the earth is the 
 centre of the Universe, and human beings the objects for 
 whose special delectation the whole galaxy of suns and 
 planets and stars have been created. Nevertheless, in spite 
 of the agreement and weight of opinion on this point, I 
 shall venture to affirm, on the contrary, that to believe 
 that the Cause of the Universe can be conceived of in 
 terms other than those of our own personality (or part of 
 our personality), is as hopeless a hallucination as to believe 
 that by any effort whatever one can jump off one's own 
 shadow, or lift oneself out of one's own boots. Indeed, 
 after running through the systems of philosophers with an 
 eye to this question, I will undertake to show in any System 
 of Philosophy whatever that has a coherent scheme,, 
 where the author's conception of the Cause of Things is 
 drawn from theories or experiences of the human mind.. 
 And although many have imagined that they have dodged 
 the inevitable conditions, none have succeeded in more 
 than appearance. What they have done is this they 
 have either made the Deity a reflection of human attri- 
 butes of so impalpable and abstract a character as not to 
 be recognisable as human; or they have made Him a 
 reflection of a part of the human mind, and that too a 
 part so low and indistinctive in its nature as to appear at 
 first sight quite impersonal. Spinoza, for example, of all 
 thinkers, had perhaps the greatest objection to conceiving 
 of the Deity after the model of his own mind, and in his 
 system of Philosophy he fancied he had evaded the 
 difficulty by making God a mere affair of Extension and 
 Thought. But, as Dr. Martineau has so well pointed out,, 
 where did he get the idea of Extension but from his own 
 body, or of Thought but from his own mind ? Extension 
 and Thought are simply the two most abstract and uni- 
 versal predicates of body and mind respectively. And it
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 199 
 
 is precisely because they are so abstract and shadowy, so 
 bloodless and impalpable, that they appeared to Spinoza 
 to be quite impersonal, and free from any taint of Anthro- 
 pomorphism. Nevertheless, a little reflection shows that, 
 although so ghostlike and impalpable, they are but shadows 
 and emanations of ourselves. 
 
 Mr. Spencer, too, the most uncompromising, perhaps, of 
 all the present opponents of Anthropomorphism, finding 
 himself unable to deny a Cause for the visible Universe, 
 casts about him to find one that shall be quite above 
 suspicion. He at last finds what he is seeking for in an 
 Unknown Force, and imagines that he has thereby escaped 
 those toils into which so many have fallen. But just as 
 Spinoza's Deity was a kind of beatified ghost of Man pro- 
 jected into Space, Spencer's Deity is the projection of a 
 certain idea the idea of Force drawn from the lowest and 
 least characteristic part of our personality, viz., the Sense- 
 perceptions. To have made the Great Cause of Things 
 wise, just, and good, would have been to have shocked 
 Mr. Spencer by its glaring Anthropomorphism, but to make 
 Him an Unknown Force shorn of all those attributes 
 of wisdom, justice, and goodness that are distinctively 
 human, was to make it appear, unless carefully scrutinized, 
 that having so little characteristic of human beings, He 
 had nothing in common with them at all. And yet, when 
 we come to look into it, we find that the idea of Force is, 
 as I have said above, drawn from a part of ourselves, viz., 
 our Sense-perceptions, and is, in so far, anthropomorphic. 
 So that Spencer, instead of making the Great Cause quite 
 impersonal, as he believed he was doing, really made Him 
 after the image of the lowest and least distinctive part of 
 our personality. And after railing at Anthropomorphism 
 because it endowed the Deity with the higher attributes 
 of human nature, he falls straightway into the same pit 
 himself, only, instead of the higher attributes, he endows 
 the Deity with ideas drawn from those lowest attributes 
 which we have in common with the brutes. It is evident,
 
 2 oo THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 therefore, that in all enquiries concerning the origin of 
 Things, the question is not whether we are going to fashion 
 the Cause of the World after the image of ourselves, for 
 that no mortal can avoid, but whether we shall fashion 
 Him from superficial and one-sided theories of ourselves, 
 or from wide and harmonious ones. 
 
 If, then, the Cause of the Universe must be conceived of 
 in terms of our own experience, it is evident that the whole 
 question as to whether we shall believe in an intelligent 
 Will or Deity or not, will turn on what is involved in the 
 true idea of Causation. If we understand by Causation 
 what is meant by it in Scientific investigations, viz., the 
 most conspicuous physical antecedent, it is evident that 
 to fully satisfy the demand for Cause it would only be 
 necessary that Things should have been evolved out of one 
 another in an endless series through all Time, and by no 
 means necessary that there should be some intelligent Will 
 underlying the whole processsion of phenomena in past, 
 present, and future. But if, on the other hand, we believe 
 that real Causation always carries with it the idea of Will, 
 it is evident that to give that harmony to the mind on which 
 alone Truth can repose, we must believe in an intelligent 
 Will as the Cause of Things, or, in other words, a Deity. 
 According, therefore, to our idea of Causation will be our 
 religious belief. Now, to arrive at a clear conclusion on 
 this point, I will begin by observing that the only Cause 
 of which we can have any knowledge or experience is that 
 of our own wills in moving our bodies, or objects around us ; 
 and consists, therefore, in the passage from a mental act 
 to a physical act, from Mind to Matter. And as this is our 
 only experience of Causation, it is evident (if we are bound 
 to construe the Cause of Things in terms of our own ex- 
 perience) that if left to our own native intuitions we should, 
 as all religions have done, refer the Universe to the agency 
 of some Great Mind known as the Deity. In so doing, we 
 should be giving that harmony to the mind which true 
 belief demands. But our conclusion, although simple and
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 201 
 
 rational, is not allowed to pass unchallenged. Science 
 interposes and asserts that that mental act of will which 
 we imagine to be the only true idea of Cause (as indeed it 
 is the only conscious experience we have of Cause), is at 
 bottom not a real cause at all, but is merely a mental 
 manifestation or shadow of the real cause ; which real cause 
 is the vibration and molecular activity of the brain and 
 nervous centres. So that what is involved in real causation, 
 according to Science, is not the passage of a mental act 
 into a physical one, but merely the passage of a physical 
 antecedent into a physical consequent, according to the 
 laws of its own proper nature ; the mental act called the 
 Will being nothing but a mere shadow and attendant of 
 the physical molecular vibrations, and playing no more 
 part as a real cause than any other shadow. If, then, our 
 Theory of the Universe is, as we have seen, merely a 
 projection of our theory of our own minds; and if in our 
 own minds the Will is not a real cause at all, but is merely 
 a shadow of the real cause ; it is evident that the belief in a 
 Great Mind or Will as the Cause of the Universe must 
 fall to the ground, and be superseded by that Materialistic 
 view which asserts that there is nothing more in the 
 Universe than a series of Physical antecedents and conse- 
 quents evolving out of one another through all Time. 
 
 Now, in replying to this position taken up by the 
 Materialists, I shall not attempt so much to impeach the 
 facts on which they rely, as to show that, metaphorically 
 speaking, they are looking at the World from between 
 their legs, and in consequence, instead of harmony and 
 truth, can get nothing but chaos and confusion. All our 
 conversation assumes that we are as conscious of possess- 
 ing Intellect, Sense of Beauty, Music, and the like, as we 
 are of possessing what is called, Will. If therefore you 
 insist that the Will has no real existence, but is merely the 
 mental manifestation or shadow of molecular vibrations in 
 the brain, there is no logical alternative but that you should 
 deny real existence to our other conscious mental attributes.
 
 202 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 On the same grounds as you deny the real existence of the 
 Will, I can deny the real existence of the Intellect. I can 
 justly affirm that it, too, is only a mental manifestation or 
 shadow of certain molecular vibrations in the brain 
 substance, and therefore can have no real existence. 
 Beauty, too, I can justly regard as a mere illusion, not a 
 reality a mere arrangement of matter in certain forms, 
 and which vanishes if (poked at through the micro- 
 scope. Music, too, is merely the effect of certain material 
 vibrations on material tissue, and therefore has no real 
 existence. From the same standpoint, Magnanimity, Hero- 
 ism, Virtue, and even Truth itself, equally with Sensuality 
 and Baseness, are but movements of certain cells in certain 
 directions, nothing more. So that if you will insist in 
 looking at the World through your legs, and, like that 
 Materialist who carried away from a performance of 
 Paganini only the number of times that great player had 
 moved his elbow during the entertainment, will insist on 
 taking as your standpoint of observation, not the mental 
 attributes of man, but the physical basis of these attributes, 
 you will not only kill the Will as a real existence, but you 
 will also kill Intellect, Poetry, Music, Truth, and all ranks 
 and differences of thought and sentiment. In a word, you 
 will destroy every 'category' of the mind, and will leave 
 nothing in the Universe but a dead hulk, a barren desert 
 of Matter and Motion ; and as even these are known only 
 through the Senses, they too may be denied, for there is 
 no reason why the Universe should exist in reality as 
 the particular constitution of our Senses makes it appear 
 to us. 
 
 Such is the chaos into which the World would fall were 
 it looked at from the Materialistic point of view. To get 
 its harmonies (and, after all, these harmonies, whether they 
 are brought out of Matter or Spirit, are about all the truth 
 we can ever hope to reach in this life), it is evident that 
 we must not look at what can be theoretically questioned 
 or denied, but at what must be practically believed. I am
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 203: 
 
 bound to believe in the existence of the External World,, 
 and in my search for Truth to build on it as on a real and 
 solid foundation, although philosophers may deny that it 
 has any real existence in itself. I practically believe in 
 the difference between Virtue and Vice, Magnanimity and 
 Meanness of spirit, Self-sacrifice and Selfishness, although 
 Materialists, reducing them all alike to the vibrations of 
 indifferent molecules, are logically bound to deny any real 
 difference between them. I practically believe in the real 
 existence of Intelligence, Beauty, Music, Poetry, and 
 Truth, although these too, like the rest, may all be resolved 
 into the movements of unmeaning cells and forces. In 
 the same way, therefore, I am bound to believe in the real 
 existence of Will, although Materialists affirm that it is 
 only the shadow and accompaniment of molecular motion 
 in nervous centres. If, then, the harmony of the mind 
 demands a Cause for the visible Universe, and if the only 
 experience I have of Cause is the mental act of Will, it is 
 evident that I am bound, by the necessity of the mind, to 
 regard the Universe as the effect of an intelligent Will or 
 Deity. Not that I know that the Deity has a real existence,. 
 any more than I know that the External World has a 
 real existence ; all I know is that I am so constituted 
 that to give harmony to the mind, I must believe in His 
 existence, otherwise all my consolidated beliefs would fall 
 into chaos and ruin. Nor do I feel it incumbent on me to- 
 explain how a Will or Mind can be the cause of the World. 
 I do not know how one unit of matter can attract another 
 while repelling it, nevertheless I am compelled to believe 
 it. I do not know how the mind is united with the matter 
 of the brain and its molecular activity. It is not con- 
 nected by the relation of cause and effect in the scientific 
 sense, for that demands equivalence between the two terms, 
 and Mind can have no equivalence either in nature or 
 force with brain substance. It is enough that I must 
 believe in the fact of the connexion. I do not know how 
 my will can be the cause of my bodily movements, it is
 
 204 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 enough that I should believe the fact. So, too, in the 
 same way, it is enough that I should believe in the Deity 
 without explaining how He is the Cause of Things. 
 
 Besides, as the material Universe depends for its 
 existence on the constitution of our minds, it is not 
 necessary that I should account for Matter, but only for 
 .that on which matter depends, viz., Mind ; and that an 
 intelligent Mind should be the cause of an intelligent Mind 
 is not impossible to realise. 
 
 But we still have to ask, if real Causation involves the 
 idea of Will, what is that scientific Causation which is 
 equally authoritative ? In reply, I would say, that the 
 relation of antecedent and consequent which constitutes 
 what is called Scientific Causation, although a necessary 
 relation, is not a relation of cause and effect at all. To 
 make this clear, let us imagine the Universe in process of 
 evolution from its nebulous condition onward through the 
 formation of stars and planets, down to the appearance of 
 animals and plants and man. Now, in the language of 
 Science, the forces at work in the world of Yesterday are 
 said to be the causes of the forces seen in the phenomena 
 of To-day, which forces are in turn the causes of the 
 phenomena of To-morrow. That is to say, the same 
 quantity of Matter and Motion in the world of To-day was 
 there Yesterday, and will be To-morrow, only under changed 
 forms. To say, therefore, that the world of Yesterday, To- 
 day, and To-morrow are connected by a necessary bond 
 called causation, is simply to say that they are connected 
 by the necessity there is of the same quantity of force 
 remaining the same, in spite of changes of form. At 
 bottom, it amounts to nothing more than the necessary 
 but identical proposition that two and two always make 
 -or cause four, or that four is always the result or effect of 
 two and two or their equivalents. This is no more a case 
 of real causation than if you took a piece of clay in one 
 shape and squeezed it into another, and then again into a 
 third, and called the first shape the cause of the second,
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES. 205, 
 
 and the second of the third. The truth is, the term 
 Cause, as used in Science, is merely a convenient ex- 
 pression, it is not a philosophical one. Scientific causes 
 are only orderly effects. The stone thrown into the air 
 falls to the ground. Why ? Because the attraction of 
 gravitation brings it down, that is to say, only because all 
 other things are seen to fall under the like circumstances. 
 But to the question why things should fall at all, why 
 gravitation should take part in the system of things at all, 
 no answer can be given but that so it stands in the Will of 
 God. Were still further proof needed that Scientific 
 Causation is not real causation, it would be found in the 
 fact that Science uses the words cause and law interchange- 
 ably. For example, when the law of gravitation was dis- 
 covered, many movements of the heavenly bodies that had 
 hitherto been inexplicable were said to be explained, so 
 that if a stone fell to the ground and the cause was asked, 
 it was said to be gravitation. It is the same at the present 
 time when any new law is discovered ; for it enables us to 
 assign causes to]whole groups of previously-obscure effects. 
 If Cause and Law are in Science thus interchangeable, it is 
 evident that Scientific Causation is not real causation at 
 all ; for what has the mere order of phenomena to do with 
 the real causation of them ?
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A CONFUSION OF PLANES. 
 
 HAVING shown in the last chapter that Comte cannot 
 logically get rid of the Deity, I now proceed to the second 
 division of the subject, and shall endeavour to show that, 
 even if he could get rid of Him, he could not make 
 Humanity the object of human worship. That Humanity 
 is not the natural object of Religion, and by no logical 
 artifice can be made so, will become apparent if we 
 glance at the Religions of the World historically. No one, 
 I presume, will deny that in Fetischism the object of 
 worship was not the star, animal, or stone, as such, but 
 the star, animal, or stone, as believed to be the seat of some 
 indwelling Will or Spirit, which Will or Spirit was the 
 real object of worship. So, too, in Polytheism it was not 
 the thunderbolt, the tempest, or the fire that was the 
 real object of prayer and propitiation, but the invisible 
 will of Jove, Neptune, or Vulcan, believed to be behind 
 these phenomena and controlling them. And, as we all 
 know, the God of Monotheism is not anything visible or 
 tangible, but is that great Mind and Will that presides 
 over the destinies of the Universe. If, then, the various 
 Historical Religions have had as objects of worship those 
 invisible Beings that transcend the sphere of experience, 
 it follows that, logically, the object of any future religion 
 must lie in the same plane of the Transcendental and
 
 A CONFUSION OF PLANES. 207 
 
 Invisible. Even Mr. Spencer, the most inexorable of 
 realists, admits this when he says that, " if knowledge 
 cannot monopolise consciousness, if it must always 
 continue possible for the mind to dwell upon that which 
 transcends knowledge, then there can never cease to be a 
 place for something of the nature of Religion ; since 
 Religion, under all its forms, is distinguished from every 
 thing else in this, that its subject-matter is that which 
 passes the sphere of experience." But Comte, noting the 
 wide diversity in the objects of the various sentiments at 
 different times, sees no reason why the Religious Sentiment 
 should not have an equally wide range in its choice of 
 objects, and argues that if Courage, for example, which at 
 one time had personal prowess as its object, now has so 
 different a thing as the defence of moral principles, there is 
 no reason why Religion, which at one time had a Deity as 
 its object, should not now have Humanity. Now, the 
 fallacy in this is evident. For if Courage, Love, and the 
 other sentiments change their objects according to men's 
 insight and stage of culture, the change is merely from 
 one object to another in the same plane the plane of 
 Experience, and is, therefore, quite legitimate. And if Re- 
 ligion, also, has changed its objects from time to time, has 
 changed from many gods to a few gods, from a few gods to 
 one god, from good gods to bad gods, nevertheless the 
 objects all lie in the same plane the plane of the Trans- 
 cendental and therefore the change is quite legitimate. 
 But when Comte proposes to make Humanity the object of 
 Religion, he at once dashes and confounds together two 
 planes of thought which the intuitions of men in all ages 
 have kept distinct and separate, viz., the sphere of Religion, 
 which has always lain in the invisible and transcendental, 
 and the sphere of Duty, which has always lain in the work- 
 a-da^ world of men and women. This is as fatal a jumble 
 and confusion of mental categories as if in our life and 
 conversation we should quietly assume as identical such 
 different attributes as love and sensuality, reverence
 
 2o8 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 and fear, duty and self-interest, honesty and prudence p 
 and on this assumed identity should proceed to rear a 
 vast and complicated system of Thought. That Comte 
 really does make Religion and Duty identical, will be seen 
 by a single quotation from the writings of one of his most 
 eminent living representatives. " The substance and 
 crown of Religion," says Mr. Frederic Harrison, " is to- 
 answer the question what is my duty in the world, my 
 duty to my fellow-beings, my duty to the world and all 
 that is in it and of it. Duty, moral purpose, moral 
 improvement, is the last word and deepest word of 
 Religion. Religion is summed up in Duty." Indeed, we 
 should have known beforehand, from Comte's general view 
 of the world, that he must of necessity have made Religion 
 and Duty identical. Regarding Humanity as an Organism, 
 and individuals as the cells of which it is composed (each 
 cell, while doing its own separate work, nevertheless work- 
 ing harmoniously for the good of the whole) ; and believing, 
 moreover, in no existence behind the Visible World, no 
 underlying Cause giving to things their aim and reason, it 
 is clear that the problem of the world must have been, 
 for him, how to make these separate individuals, in each of 
 whom self-interest is predominant, so far subordinate their 
 self-interest, as to work harmoniously for the welfare of 
 Humanity as a whole. That is to say, his object was to 
 discover what is the duty of each man to his neighbour 
 and to the whole society of which he forms a part. In 
 other words, Humanity was both the reason and object of 
 his endeavours, both his Duty and his Religion. That 
 Comte should have centred both Religion and Duty in one 
 and the same object, when their natural objects lie on 
 altogether distinct planes, was virtually to admit that he 
 had no object for Religion in the sense in which that 
 term is used and understood by men. Having no belief 
 in any existence beyond the Visible World, he had no 
 sphere for the exercise of what men call Religion. But 
 in his anxiety to erect a system of thought that should
 
 A CONFUSION OF PLANES. 209 
 
 satisfy every side of man's nature (and that, too, on the 1 
 hypothesis that there was no background of existence 
 behind the Visible World), he was obliged to knock into 
 one, two sentiments which the intuitions of mankind have 
 always kept apart, and so forever vitiated the system of 
 thought which he so laboriously constructed. Mr. Spencer, 
 too, fell into the same error, but in a different way. Like 
 Comte, he wished to reconcile Religion and Science, and 
 the only way he could do this effectually was by showing 
 that at bottom they both rested on the same basis, and 
 not on two distinct bases as was generally supposed. 
 But, unlike Comte, he believed, as we have seen, that the 
 sphere of Religion was in the invisible and transcendental ; 
 and accordingly, while Comte made Religion rest on the 
 same basis as Science, viz., the real world, he made 
 Science rest on the same basis as Religion, viz., the 
 transcendental world. The attempt to make so real and 
 material a thing as Science rest on so transcendental a 
 basis as Religion, gave rise, in the case of Mr. Spencer, as 
 I have elsewhere shown, to the most ingenious exhibition 
 of intellectual sleight-of-hand that has been known in 
 modern philosophy. 
 
 But before we have completely established our proof 
 that Humanity cannot logically be made the object of 
 Religion, we must confront the still more plausible argu- 
 ment of Comte, viz., that the feelings of reverence, love, 
 and the like which make up the Religious Sentiment, have 
 their natural and appropriate objects in our fellow-men, 
 and that therefore to look for them in another world is 
 quite gratuitous and unnecessary. Now, in reference to 
 this argument 1 wish to remark, by way of preliminary, 
 that any sentiment, passion, or idea, that is strong enough 
 to bind the discordant elements of man's nature into a 
 unity of aim and effort, may in a certain sense be said to 
 be his religion. When the gallant knight-errant in the 
 fairy tale embarked on perilous and romantic adventures 
 to win the smiles and favour of the fair lady whose
 
 2io THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 haughty beauty had pierced his heart, and laid him captive, 
 at her feet, his devotion may justly enough be said to have 
 been his religion. When John Stuart Mill said of his wife,. 
 ' her memory is to me religion, and her bright example, 
 summing up as it does all excellence, is the standard by 
 which I regulate my life/ he, too, used the term in a 
 sufficiently distinct and intelligible sense. And when in 
 popular parlance we hear any great master-passion by 
 which a man is impelled, spoken of as his religion whether 
 it be money-getting, ambition, fame, position, or the 
 struggle to realize the ideal in the drama, poetry, or art, 
 we are all aware of the sense in which the term is used. 
 It may be said to have been the religion of Alexander to 
 found a universal empire ; of Wendell Phillips, to free 
 the slave ; of Mazzini and Garibaldi, to consummate the 
 unification of Italy. And so in the same way if the idea 
 of Humanity, like that of Patriotism, is strong enough to 
 give unity of aim and effort to a man's life, and wide 
 enough to give unity of aim and effort to the lives of all, 
 there is no objection to calling it a religion. But to imagine 
 that this derivative and more or less metaphorical meaning 
 of the word is the sense in which it is commonly under- 
 stood, is as puerile as to imagine that when a man speaks 
 of being in Heaven after coming out of some intense 
 agony, his words are to be taken literally. By Religion,, 
 in the common acceptation, is meant the belief men 
 have in the Great Cause of things and their relation 
 to that Cause. For Comte to attach any other meaning 
 to the term, and afterwards to argue as if he meant by it 
 what we mean by it, is to completely confuse and mystify 
 the reader. Comte had no belief in a Great Cause of the 
 Universe, and therefore had no object of Religion in the 
 common acceptation of the term. But instead of dropping 
 the word when the object of the thing itself was gone, he 
 still retained the word, but gave it quite a different 
 interpretation. Having no object for the term in its 
 usual meaning, he fell back on the derivative meaning
 
 A CONFUSION OF PLANES. 211 
 
 given to it in the above instances, and played with the 
 two as if they were identical. Hence the reader's per- 
 plexity. 
 
 If, then, Religion in its true sense means the belief men 
 have in the nature of the Great Cause of Things and their 
 relation to that Cause, it does not follow that because the 
 feelings of reverence, love, and the like, which make up the 
 Religious Sentiment, have their natural sphere among our 
 fellow-men, our fellow-men are necessarily the objects of 
 Religion. On the contrary, it is because men are the symbols 
 and representatives in Time of that Great Cause which is 
 the true object of Religion, that they call forth in us the 
 Religious Sentiment. Nor is there anything extraordinary 
 or exceptional in this. In olden times, the person of a 
 king was sacred because he was believed to be the vice- 
 regent of God; at the present time, because he is the 
 representative of the unity and dignity of the State ; in 
 either case, in virtue of his symbolical and representative 
 capacity only. It is the same with the persons of ambas- 
 sadors, and of all State-officials from the highest to the 
 lowest. Even flags, crowns, sceptres, and other symbols 
 of king and country, although they absolutely have no 
 intrinsic value, call forth the same sentiments of loyalty 
 and patriotism as the things themselves which they 
 represent. So, too, with Nature. The feeling, for example, 
 that goes out from us to a beautiful flower is not due to 
 the flower itself, in so far as it is a mere anatomical 
 structure, a mere arrangement of form and colour, but is 
 due rather to that hidden invisible Beauty out of which 
 it springs, and of which its little life is the transient 
 manifestation. It is this invisible Beauty on which we 
 love to dwell in contemplating the flower- and the short- 
 lived splendour in which it is arrayed. Were its beauty 
 nothing more than the pleasure afforded the eye by the 
 mere harmony of material outline and the blending of 
 tints, its charms would vanish. And hence, if Beauty, as is 
 believed, is one side of the Religious Sentiment, the object
 
 212 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 of the sentiment would be not the flower itself, but that 
 which it expresses, the hint it gives us of that deep sea of 
 Beauty into which it is but one small inlet. 'Things 
 more excellent than any symbol are seen through symbols.' 
 It is the same, too, with those great human attributes of 
 magnanimity, heroism, expansion and elevation of mind, 
 which call forth reverence, love, and admiration from 
 human souls. For just .as the dead, cold, marble of the 
 statue calls forth our admiration not on its own account 
 but because it is the expression of the sculptor's mind ; as 
 beauty of form is loved less for itself than as the natural 
 symbol of beauty of mind and character ; so beauty and 
 elevation of mind themselves are reverenced and admired 
 because they are the highest symbols we have on earth of 
 that Divine Mind of which they are the temporary embodi- 
 ment that Divine Mind to which all civilization and 
 progress is the struggle to more and more nearly approxi- 
 mate. It is this Divine Mind which is the secret magnet 
 and centre of attraction for human souls; and not the 
 passing human forms in which it is housed and lodged for 
 a season. So that, instead of Humanity being, as Comte 
 believed, the true object of Religion, because our religious 
 feelings find in human beings appropriate objects for their 
 satisfaction, our religious feelings, on the contrary, are 
 called forth by Humanity, because human beings are the 
 symbols of that Divine Cause which is the only true 
 object of the Religious Sentiment. It is quite true, as 
 Comte contends, that the object of Religion must be a 
 being endowed with attributes that can call forth reverence, 
 admiration, and love ; but, unless the intuitions of all ages 
 are a mistake, that object cannot be any being like our- 
 selves, or aggregate of beings called Humanity, but must 
 be that Great Power in whom we and all other beings have 
 our roots, that invisible Spring of Light and Life in whom 
 we are bound to believe, but whose effects alone we are 
 permitted to see. 
 
 And lastly, if we cannot logically make Humanity the
 
 A CONFUSION OF PLANES. 213 
 
 object of Religion, neither can we make it practically the 
 object of human worship. Now, it must be remembered 
 in this connection that it was on the enthusiasm which 
 Humanity was expected to inspire, when elevated into an 
 object of worship, that Comte relied, to counteract those 
 selfish instincts of human nature which are naturally so 
 much stronger than the moral impulses. To excite the 
 enthusiasm necessary to make a man forget his own petty 
 interests, an object must not only be believed to be a true 
 object, but must also have the power of kindling the 
 Imagination, or that side of our nature which responds to 
 the Infinite, the Intangible, the Unlimited. A woman, for 
 example, may have all the virtues, and may demonstrably 
 be the true object of a man's love and devotion, and yet, 
 unless she touches his imagination by suggesting a higher 
 excellence than anywhere appears in her actions or 
 conversation, unless indeed she opens out a range of 
 possibility both of heart and soul that shall run far away 
 into the incalculable and unlimited, she will excite no lofty 
 enthusiasm, no heroic devotion, no self-sacrifice. In the 
 same way, too, if a man is thoroughly to subjugate us and 
 lead us after him, he must leave the impression of a greater 
 range of thought and feeling than our own. But should 
 we in our expanding life at last come up to his stature, and 
 find that what was once to us immeasurable and incalcu- 
 lable has now a finite and limited value only, his power 
 over us will be gone, and he himself will never again be to 
 us the same splendid possibility which he was before. 
 We have seen his limitations, and henceforward it is all 
 over with him. Instead of being that boundless sea which 
 we had imagined him, he has shrunk into a lake, a pond, 
 on whose waters, indeed, we may disport ourselves perhaps, 
 but whose shores, survey able all around, excite none of 
 that awe and emotion which are roused in us by the 
 illimitable, the immeasurable, the unknown. It is evident, 
 therefore, that a Religion which is to affect the daily life, 
 must have as its object something that will fire the Imag-
 
 2 I4 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 ination, either by its own inherent qualities or by the halo 
 with which it has come to be invested. The Imagination 
 once kindled, the religious feelings will spring up sponta- 
 neously; and Selfishness, reined in by the controlling emo- 
 tion, will be subordinated. All the old religions of the world 
 had, in their gods, objects which gave infinite play to the 
 Imagination, by reason of the transcendent and immeasur- 
 able attributes with which they were endowed ; and so 
 called forth the religious emotions spontaneously. And 
 we may confidently expect that any Religion which shall 
 take on itself to guide the future of mankind, must have 
 as its object a Being having the like immeasurable and 
 transcendent qualities. But Comte, instead of trying to 
 find an object of Religion that will naturally rouse the 
 Imagination, and so draw out the Religious Sentiment 
 spontaneously, looks out for an object that he thinks ought 
 to draw out the sentiment, and having found it, proceeds 
 to set it before us in such an attractive form as to fire the 
 Imagination, hoping thereby to induce the feeling desired ; 
 like a man who, instead of waiting for the woman whom 
 he must love, looks for one whom he ought to love, and 
 then tries to throw such a romantic idea around her, as 
 shall rouse the wished-for emotion. Believing that Human- 
 ity, if we are to do it any good, ought to call forth the 
 reverence, love, and devotion of human souls, or, in a 
 word, their Religious Sentiment, Comte proceeds to invest 
 it with the necessary dignity, by calling it the Supreme 
 Being, the Great Organism, and the like, thereby giving 
 it all the power over the Imagination which attaches to 
 an idea so mystic and sublime. 
 
 Now, I must admit that if the conception of Humanity 
 can be so presented as to rouse the Imagination, it may 
 become an object of worship, whether it be the true object 
 of Religion or not. For there can be no doubt that any 
 idea or object that can kindle the Imagination, may become 
 an object of devotion, and may so far make a man sub- 
 ordinate his selfishness as to sacrifice himself to its pursuit,
 
 A CONFUSION OF PLANES. 215 
 
 ^whether it be money, ambition, fame, power, position, 
 love, science, poetry, or art. What, then, we ask, are 
 those attributes which Comte sees in Humanity which 
 are to give it that power over the Imagination necessary 
 to make it an object of worship ? In the first place, says 
 Comte, it is a Real Existence, while we individuals are 
 only metaphysical abstractions. And why is it a Real 
 Existence and we mere abstractions ? Because it is a Great 
 Organism, and we are but cells in its huge frame. And 
 why is it an Organism ? Because, like other organisms, 
 it has gone through regular stages of growth and evolution, 
 known as the Theological, Metaphysical, and Positive 
 stages. In a word, says Comte, it is the Supreme Being 
 in whom our little individual lives are absorbed and lost, 
 
 out of which they grow, and into which they return; just 
 as the individual cells of a bodily organism die and are 
 replaced by others, while the body, as a whole, lives on and 
 retains its continuity throughout. And therefore, argues 
 Comte, it not only ought to rouse our Imagination, by its' 
 greatness, its vastness, and its power, but, if looked at 
 steadily and fixedly enough, it is bound to do so. Now I 
 have already shown in a former chapter that Humanity is 
 an organism in a metaphorical sense merely, not in that 
 strict and definite sense attached to the term in Biology, 
 and adopted by Comte as the basis of his analogy. I will 
 
 only remark, in passing, that if you are to consider Human- 
 ity an organism, merely because individual human beings 
 are connected by certain necessary bonds of thought and 
 feeling (and therefore must necessarily evolve in definite 
 stages), there is no reason why you should not also call a 
 kaleidoscope an organism, because its fragments are so 
 related that, shake them how you will, they will always 
 arrange themselves in certain regular forms ; or the World 
 in general an organism, because, according to the Evolution 
 hypothesis, each thing is so related to all, that, as Carlyle 
 says, not an Indian can quarrel with his squaw on the 
 shores of Lake Winnipeg, but will make the price of
 
 216 THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 beaver rise ; not a pebble can be thrown from the hand, but 
 will alter the centre of gravity of the Universe. There 
 can be no doubt that human beings will always form 
 themselves into an organism, in whatever situation they 
 may be placed ; but that Humanity is a ready-made 
 organism, in the biological sense used by Comte, is a 
 purely arbitrary and gratuitous assumption, and therefore 
 a most hazardous basis on which to construct a System of 
 Philosophy. There is little chance, therefore, that this 
 transparent fiction of Humanity being the Supreme Being 
 should throw such an imaginative aureole about it as to 
 make it an object of worship. But there is still another 
 fiction on which Comte relies to make Humanity an 
 object of worship, and that is, that Humanity is greater 
 than ourselves. The reason he thinks Humanity is greater 
 than ourselves is, because to the stored-up knowledge and 
 experience of the generations that have preceded us, we 
 owe all that is best in ourselves the greater part of our 
 knowledge, our civilization, our culture, our habits of life,, 
 our morality. Now, the absurdity of this view will become 
 apparent if we remember that, now that Science has shown 
 the continuity of all species, the earliest generations of 
 men must have owed all that was best in themselves to> 
 the accumulated stores of wisdom of the latest generation 
 of apes ; and therefore, if we are to worship the generations, 
 of men that have preceded us, there is no reason why we 
 should not also worship the generations of apes that 
 preceded them; and so on down through molluscs and 
 worms and frog-spawn to protoplasm itself. You cannot 
 draw the line at Humanity, and say that you will worship, 
 no species lower and more remote in the scale ; for, in 
 doing so, you confess that something has been implanted 
 in man that is not the result of previous experience among 
 the lower races a proposition that runs quite counter to 
 all scientific modes of interpretation. Besides, for an 
 object to be greater than ourselves, it need not be greater 
 in mere bulk and acquisition, but must be higher ire
 
 A CONFUSION OF PLANES. 217 
 
 the scale of being; and that the preceding genera- 
 tions of men were higher than us there is reason for 
 believing. 
 
 The truth is, it is impossible so to irradiate Humanity 
 by any halo of pleasing fictions as to make it an object of 
 worship. Who could worship, for example, the Esquimaux, 
 the Fijian, the Bashi-Bazouk, the Digger Indian, the 
 base and grovelling Oriental and slave ? Who has ever 
 done so, or pretended to do so ? And if we cannot worship 
 the individual, why the tribe ? If not the tribe, why a 
 number of tribes, or nations, or even the human race at 
 large ? I am aware that Comte considers that not all 
 men are members of the entity called Humanity, but only 
 the Good of present and preceding generations. Are the 
 Good, then, to be my Religion ? They may and shall 
 command my sympathy and respect, but cannot neces- 
 sarily have such power over my imagination as to 
 subjugate my heart and soul. 
 
 And besides, if Humanity is to be made the object of 
 our Religion, what will become of Nature, and in con- 
 sequence of the world of Poetry and Art ? To have got rid 
 of a Mind and Soul behind the visible world, and then 
 to make Humanity our Religion the object of all our 
 aims, our affections, our efforts is to leave Nature out- 
 side, as a corpse, and make of Poetry and Art an unreality 
 and imposture. It is only because we believe in a Soul 
 behind the visible Universe that the features of Nature 
 are so pleasing and elevating to the mind. To believe 
 that Nature is a corpse, and the landscape, in consequence, 
 only a dead inventory of material objects, is to kill all 
 poetry and art, which exist indeed on the assumption that 
 beauty of form always refers back to beauty of soul and 
 essence. No dead or merely material thing can delight 
 and elevate us, unless, as in sculpture and painting, it 
 suggests the corresponding life and soul. All beaut}-, 
 whether of person or character ; all greatness, whether of 
 sentiment or life, is worshipped and loved, precisely
 
 2i8 TflE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. 
 
 because it is believed to be the expression of that inward, 
 spiritual, and diviner Beauty which is the real object of 
 human worship. And hence there is no logical alterna- 
 tive, but either to admit a Divine Mind behind the World, 
 or else to confess that all poetry, all enthusiasm, all art, 
 all worship, is an impertinence and sham. Comte saw 
 this, and perceived, moreover, that all poetry and art must 
 fade and wither unless fed by sentiment. He saw also 
 that Sentiment can be called out by Mind only, and not by 
 material things. But he had already got rid of all Mind 
 behind Nature, and therefore had no place for Sentiment, 
 and, in consequence, for Poetry and Art. To get out of the 
 difficulty, therefore, he proposed that we should give our 
 scientific facts and conceptions such an imaginative 
 setting, as would satisfy the moral and aesthetic sentiments 
 otherwise bereaved. Among other things, for example, he 
 recommends us to endow the External World with feeling, 
 just as if it were a person, and so be able to imagine it as 
 helping man to ameliorate the universal order. In this 
 way, by rounding off truth with fiction, he hoped to give that 
 satisfaction and harmony to the mind, which is lost and 
 destroyed when great sentiments are denied their legiti- 
 mate sphere of gratification. Even Space, empty Space, 
 we are to imagine to have feeling, and so make it an 
 object of adoration as representation of Fatality ! That 
 is to say, having got rid of Mind in general behind the 
 External World, he is obliged to bring it back piecemeal, 
 and under every object that is to call forth our sentiments 
 to insert a piece of Will and Personality. Having left no 
 stone unturned to depose the Deity, he is obliged to 
 reinstate Him under those thinly-veiled fictions which he 
 insists on our treating as if they were realities. No 
 greater satire on his system of Philosophy could possibly 
 be imagined. Having, with infinite trouble, got the Deity 
 out of the way, in order that he might make Humanity 
 the object of Religion, in his fears lest Nature, thus de- 
 prived of her animating principle, should become a corpse,
 
 A CONFUSION OF PLANES. 219 
 
 and Poetry and Art an unreality and imposture, he is 
 forced to bring Him back again, cut up into these little 
 fetischistic forms. And, after repudiating the Deity, 
 because he believed Him to be a fiction of the imagina- 
 tion, he ends by deliberately asking us to make believe 
 that we believe those fictions by which he replaced Him, 
 and all for fear lest the harmony of the mind should be 
 destroyed ; not perceiving that real harmony can arise 
 only out of a corisensus of true beliefs, not fictitious ones. 
 Indeed, the very reason for his objecting to make God the 
 object of Religion was, because the belief in God was in 
 his opinion not a true belief, and therefore on it nothing 
 solid and enduring could be built. That a great system 
 ; of thought should thus be reduced at last to eke out its 
 harmonies by an elaborate tissue of fictions, is the best 
 proof of the existence at its core of some besetting fallacy, 
 which fallacy, under a 'few of its many different disguises, 
 I hope, in the foregoing pages, to have clearly pointed out.
 
 PART IV.-RELIGION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PRELIMINARY. 
 
 IN the last section we saw that the term Religion may be 
 used in two quite different senses ; in the one, its true 
 and accepted sense, it means the conceptions men have 
 formed of the Great Cause of Things, and their relation 
 to that Cause ; in the other, its secondary and occasional 
 sense, it is used of anything that has the power of binding 
 the human sentiments and desires into a unity of aim and 
 effort. We saw, too, that Humanity could not possibly be 
 made the object of Religion in its first and true sense, 
 but at most only in that derivative and more or less 
 metaphorical sense in which Country, Art, Love, Money, 
 and the like, may be, and sometimes are, with quite as 
 much appropriateness, said to be men's religion. Religion 
 being thus restored to its old and well-understood meaning, 
 it is necessary now to trace the Laws of the Human Mind 
 involved in its construction, with the view of estimating 
 its effects on what we have already seen to be the great 
 end of all human effort, viz., the elevation and expansion 
 of the individual mind. 
 
 During the long ages in which Religion was believed to 
 rest on Revelation alone, to be something imposed on the 
 mind from without by Divine authority, rather than 
 evolved from the reason and imagination within, no 
 attempt was likely to be made to account for its various
 
 PRELIMINARY. 221 
 
 forms by natural laws alone. When men believed that 
 the observed Laws of Nature were to be rejected unless 
 they harmonized with the first chapter of Genesis, and the 
 observed laws of the human mind unless they harmonized 
 with the dogmas of ' original sin ' and ' redemption,' it was 
 impossible that they should at the same time believe 
 that these very dogmas themselves had sprung from the 
 Reason and Imagination of men working on the Material 
 and Social Conditions under which they were placed. 
 Men naturally enough believed that if Religion had a 
 supernatural origin, it could not have had a natural one ; if 
 it sprang from the Divine councils it could not have 
 resulted from the working of the ordinary laws of human 
 nature. But from the time that it was felt that Religion 
 was as much a product of the secret workings of human 
 Thought and Imagination as a poem or a work of art ; that, 
 as the planets from the sun, it was first of all thrown off 
 from the central human spirit, and afterwards believed to 
 have an independent objective origin of its own ; the way 
 was open for the discovery and enunciation of the Laws 
 on which it was constructed, and from which all its 
 various forms have taken their rise. As yet, however, no 
 one has attempted to trace these laws in anything like 
 their entirety, or give them anything like scientific 
 definiteness and precision. It is true, as we saw in a 
 former chapter, that Comte has enunciated one of the 
 most pregnant of these laws the law of Wills and Causes 
 but it is only one, and although its importance cannot 
 be over-estimated, it is nevertheless so large and sweeping 
 in its character, as to account only for the most general 
 phases through which Religion has passed Animism, 
 Fetischism, Polytheism, Monotheism leaving the minuter 
 structure of the various creeds still unaccounted for. 
 Mr. Spencer, too, has undertaken to account for the origin, 
 growth, and development of religions, on the hypothesis 
 of Evolution. His mode of procedure is strictly scientific, 
 and consists in searching among the records of existing
 
 2 22 - RELIGION. 
 
 savage races for the most simple and rudimentary form o: 
 religion; and, when this is found, in endeavouring to- 
 discover the circumstances of savage life that would most 
 naturally account for it. And so, after collecting the 
 accounts of travellers from every quarter of the globe and 
 collating them, he finds that the worship of the spirits of 
 ancestors is the lowest form of existing religion, and 
 thence concludes, from analogy, that in all probability it 
 is the crude and undeveloped form from which all our 
 present civilised religions have been evolved. On search- 
 ing farther for the circumstances that would most naturally 
 give rise to this form of worship, he finds them in the 
 phenomena of dreams, and in the manifestations of 
 diseases of the nervous system. The savage, having no 
 scientific knowledge with which to correct the illusions of 
 the mind, seems in his dreams to see his spirit travelling far 
 away into distant regions, engaging in wondrous adven- 
 tures, and returning again when he awakes. He there- 
 upon concludes that there is a spirit within him that can 
 come and go, can enter the body and leave it at pleasure. 
 Carrying with him this idea, when he sees a fellow-savage 
 convulsed with mania or epilepsy, what can he think but 
 that the spirit of an enemy has entered the body, and is 
 working its evil will there ? And what more natural than 
 that the fear of these evil spirits should lead to the worship 
 of those most likely to protect him the spirits of his 
 ancestors and to the endeavour to gain their favour by 
 those rites, offerings, and ceremonies which would most 
 have pleased them when alive ? It is thus that Mr. 
 Spencer finds a natural and easy explanation of the 
 earliest form of existing religion, in the circumstances of 
 savage life acting on the uncultured mind ; later forms 
 being developed from this, in a manner equally natural, and 
 still bearing traces of their early origin. Now, my results 
 and mode of procedure, although quite different, are in no 
 way inconsistent with those of Mr. Spencer; on the 
 contrary, they are rather the complement of them. For
 
 PRELIMINARY. 223 
 
 if all concrete religions must be the result of the union of 
 two distinct factors on the one hand, of certain Laws of 
 the Human Mind, and on the other, of certain Circumstances 
 and Conditions of men -it is open to the student to 
 investigate either the circumstances, or the laws, or both. 
 Given the religion the worship of ancestral spirits and 
 the like Mr. Spencer subordinates the laws of the 
 mind involved, and concentrates attention on the special 
 circumstances most likely to produce it the phenomena of 
 dreaming, of nervous disorders, and the like. I, on the 
 contrary, shall ignore the circumstances for the time 
 being, and shall concentrate attention on those great laws 
 of the human mind which must give rise to Religion under 
 any circumstances. The differences in result to be 
 anticipated from these two methods of procedure, viz.,. 
 from determining the circumstances, and determining the 
 laws, are these, that however probable the circumstances 
 may be, they can never be verified, for we shall never 
 more be able to see Religion in the process of formation ; 
 whereas, if once the laws can be discovered, they can, like 
 gravitation, be verified at any time and in any place. 
 Besides, the circumstances that gave rise to one particular 
 religion will not explain another, whereas the laws involved 
 in one are involved in all. And, more important still, a 
 knowledge of the circumstances in which any religion 
 takes its rise will throw no light on the effects of Religion 
 on character and life, whereas the knowledge of the laws 
 involved will lead directly, as we shall see, to a knowledge 
 of its effects on mental and moral expansion, and thereby 
 serve as guide to Action. 
 
 As to the effects of Religion on Life and Action, little has 
 hitherto been done in the way of putting the subject on a 
 scientific basis. The clergy of the various churches, pre- 
 occupied in setting forth the attractions of their own 
 particular forms, are indisposed for general views ; and are, 
 by reason of that narrowness of view which results from 
 regarding their own special creed as absolutely true.
 
 224 RELIGION. 
 
 disqualified for tracing the broad effects of Religion on 
 human life ; as lawyers, by reason of their pedantry, are 
 said to be disqualified for the higher functions of states- 
 manship. Indeed, it is impossible that it should be other- 
 wise, as the belief in Revelation consecrates equally each 
 and every part of the sacred record, thereby exalting the 
 letter over the spirit, and so forbidding large and com- 
 manding views. Besides, what hope is there of getting a 
 severe scientific estimate from men who are under such 
 strong temptations to magnify the importance of the 
 function they administer, and paint it couleur de rose ; from 
 men who are oppressed by the consciousness of having to 
 address herds of mediaeval worshippers, whose fixed, 
 upraised eyes mark out, as with bayonet-points, the path 
 in which they are to tread, and silently dictate that 
 Religion shall be shown to be the best of all possible 
 expedients for making the most of both worlds ? 
 
 On the other hand, the Materialists and Atheists, 
 perceiving the hopelessness of reconciling many of the 
 doctrines of Religion with the verified results of Science, 
 and remembering, moreover, the black record of crimes 
 done in its name, regard it as of no benefit to mankind at 
 all, but as a drawback rather, or even a curse a break on 
 the wheel of progress, an illusion of fanaticism or despair. 
 So that, while one set of persons regard it as of supreme 
 importance, and another of no importance, or less than 
 none, the way is open for anyone who shall estimate 
 scientifically what, under each and all its forms, it can and 
 does accomplish for man, and what, under no form what- 
 ever, it is capable of accomplishing. To break ground on 
 a subject so interesting and important is the object of the 
 present endeavour. 
 
 But, before the subject can be placed in all its bearings 
 before the reader, it is necessary to clear the way by 
 removing a few of the more prominent misconceptions 
 that complicate or obscure it. 
 
 In the first place, then, I would remark that Religion,
 
 PRELIMINARY. 225 
 
 being the belief men have in the Great Cause of Things 
 and their relation to that Cause, there is no hope of the 
 laws on which it turns being scientifically determined, 
 unless we are prepared to admit at the outset that, in 
 whatever creed it may chance to be embodied, it is 
 believed in precisely the same sense in which any other 
 natural or human fact is believed. By this I mean, that it 
 is accepted as a reasonable explanation of the phenomena of 
 the World and of Human Life, in the same sense in w r hich 
 the attraction of the moon is accepted as a reasonable 
 explanation of the tides, or the attraction of the earth, of 
 the fall of a leaf or stone. When it harmonizes completely 
 with men's other beliefs, it is said to be a reasoned belief; 
 when it does not so harmonize, and yet does not in its 
 essence run counter to them, but is accepted, as is most 
 frequently the case, on tradition or authority, it is still an 
 intellectual belief, and is as much dependent on intellectual 
 laws, as our belief in the Copernican theory of Astronomy 
 (although we may not have followed in detail its various 
 steps) is an intellectual belief dependent on intellectual 
 laws. That this is the case, a moment's reflection should 
 suffice to satisfy us. Why, for example, do we reject the 
 religions of savages and the lower races ? Evidently 
 because they run counter to our knowledge of the world 
 and of the human mind, that is to say, because they are 
 not intellectually credible to us. Why do the savages 
 themselves believe in them ? Evidently because they do 
 not run counter to their knowledge and culture, such as it 
 is, that is to say, because they are intellectually credible to 
 them. Again, why do so many of the cultured and 
 enlightened classes in Europe at the present time reject 
 the Christian Religion ? The answer, as before, is that 
 the various conceptions embodied in its creed run counter 
 to beliefs founded on positive Science, and so can no 
 longer be credited as they were before Science had 
 reached its present stage of advancement. Indeed, so 
 obvious is it to me that religious beliefs are accepted or 
 
 Q
 
 226 RELIGION. 
 
 rejected on precisely the same intellectual grounds as 
 any other beliefs whatsoever, that I should have deemed 
 it superfluous to insist on it so strongly, were it not that I 
 am aware how profoundly the idea is discredited. Instead 
 of being regarded as a matter of intellectual belief, of 
 logical inference, Religion is regarded as a matter of 
 faith, a mystery passing comprehension ; an affair of 
 sentiment and emotion, rather than of insight ; a state of 
 the heart, rather than of the head. Now, the prevalence 
 of this view of Religion is due largely to the converging 
 teaching of two great and representative bodies of men, 
 viz., the Priesthood and the men of Physical Science. 
 The reasons for this convergence between men not usually 
 found in the same camp, besides being interesting in 
 themselves, will serve to throw light on the problem before 
 us, and so merit the passing attention of the reader. 
 
 At onetime,the Priesthood taught that Religion consisted 
 in the acceptance of a certain set of dogmas, bound 
 together by a kind of logical interdependency into what 
 was known as the ' scheme of salvation/ which scheme 
 was to be accepted on pain of eternal damnation, as 
 salvation was to be found within its narrow limits alone. 
 But of late years they have become more and more 
 conscious that many of these dogmas run counter to the 
 verified conclusions of Science, and more and more afraid 
 that, if each portion of their creed were to be dropped the 
 moment it was found to be inconsistent with positive 
 knowledge, the whole body of Revealed Religion would in a 
 very short time disappear altogether. The consequence 
 was, that while abandoning all those portions that could 
 no longer be safely retained, they were all the more 
 resolved that what remained should be put out of the 
 reach of future assault. To secure this object, they 
 were obliged to shift their former ground and take up an 
 ntirely different position. Instead of making dogma 
 paramount as formerly, they proclaimed with ever-in- 
 creasing emphasis that the essence of Religion lay in
 
 PRELIMINARY. 227 
 
 conduct and life, in the attitude of the heart and emotions, 
 .and not in any set of intellectual dogmas whatever ; and, 
 moreover, that it was not a matter of Scientific Knowledge 
 or Intellectual Belief at all, but was entirely a matter of 
 Faith ; a thing not to be argued about or proven, but to be 
 accepted in trust and lowly obedience. And, hence, if 
 you speak of Religion to a moderate believer, he will ask 
 you what is the use of your mere intellectual assent to a 
 certain set of dogmas, if they have no influence on your life 
 and action, your morals and behaviour : and if you speak to 
 a ' revivalist,' he will tell you that even these moralities of 
 his more moderate brother are but filthy rags, if his heart is 
 cold, and if he has not experienced that complete change 
 -of heart, or ' conversion,' as it is called, which befell 
 St. Paul on the road to Damascus. But, however much 
 these two may differ as to the amount of feeling and 
 emotion necessary, they both agree that Religion lies in 
 Conduct or Sentiment, and not in Intellectual Belief. And 
 yet, that they do not themselves really believe that Religion 
 lies in conduct or emotion, may be seen in the attitude 
 they assume towards those signal instances of virtue, 
 devotion, and self-sacrifice which are found in the history 
 of other creeds. Ask them whether the morality, the 
 devotion, the self-sacrifice of the Hindoo or Mahommedan 
 devotee is real religion, and they will tell you that it may be 
 superstition, fanaticism, or idolatry, but not real religion. 
 Agree with the exemplary Christian that Religion is a 
 matter of conduct and morality, and yet hint that you do 
 not accept the Thirty-nine Articles, or the logical scheme 
 of the Fall, Atonement, and Redemption, you will soon be 
 made aware that the root of the matter is not in you. 
 Agree with the more ardent Revivalist that Religion is a 
 change of heart, a ' conversion,' and yet confess that the 
 belief in Christ is not necessary to you, you are still 
 without the fold. And so, whether you take the cool and 
 moderate believer, or the hot and intemperate one, both 
 alike shall confess, when pressed, that the essence of
 
 228 RELIGION. 
 
 Religion lies in the assent given to a certain logical scheme 
 of doctrine, known as the scheme of salvation, and not in 
 the mere rectitude of your conduct, or the mere attitude 
 of the heart and emotions. Why, then, it will be asked,, 
 are conduct, sentiment, or emotion, put forward as the 
 essence of Religion ? The reason, in a word, is because 
 they are believed to be respectively the best tests whereby 
 men shall know that we have a true belief in the doctrines 
 we profess, and are not giving them a mere lip-assent ; 
 just as a man best shows his sympathy with a principle by 
 the extent to which he is willing to sacrifice himself for it, 
 or his belief in a cause, by the power it has to rouse his 
 emotions and reach his heart. 
 
 If, then, Religion consists not in Morality and Conduct, 
 Emotion and Sentiment for no one denies that the 
 Mahommedans, Jews, Hindoos, and other ' heathens ' to 
 whom we send our missionaries, possess these but in the 
 acceptance of a certain logical concatenation of Fact and 
 Dogma, known as the ' Scheme of Salvation,' we are now in 
 a position to examine the second great idea with which 
 the clergy have indoctrinated the general mind, viz., that 
 this scheme of salvation is a mystery passing compre- 
 hension, and that, therefore, our assent to it is not an 
 Intellectual Assent depending on intellectual laws, but is a 
 matter of Faith alone. Now, the wide prevalence of this 
 opinion would of itself prove that there is somewhere 
 about it a general truth which gives it its plausibility and 
 disposes men to accept it. If we search for this truth, we 
 shall find it in the feeling of which we are all conscious 
 that there must be some truths which, being the basis of 
 all proof, cannot themselves be proven, but must be taken 
 for granted. In a former chapter we saw what these 
 truths were, and instanced, among others, our belief in 
 the existence of the External World, in the necessar)' 
 connexion of phenomena by Causation, and in the Persist- 
 ence of Force. Now, the peculiarity which we found 
 distinguished these truths from all others was this that
 
 PRELIMINARY. 229 
 
 one or other of them was involved in every judgment, 
 every proof, every inference ; indeed, without assuming 
 one or more of them, thought could not go on at all. The 
 inference, obviously, is that, while these few fundamental 
 truths, these foundation rocks of thought, are accepted by 
 Faith alone, all other propositions whatsoever will be 
 believed in proportion to the evidence by which they are 
 supported. And hence, if we wish to determine whether 
 the Christian or any other scheme of salvation is accepted 
 by faith alone or not, we have simply to ask whether it is 
 among the number of those truths without which thought 
 cannot go on, whether it is a datum of consciousness, 
 involved in every judgment, every proof, every inference. 
 The question, indeed, thus put requires no answer, for to 
 imagine that the thousand and one dogmas which make 
 up the Christian and other religions of the world, are all 
 intuitive beliefs for which no reason is to be asked or given, 
 were a weakness, even meanness, of intellect not to be 
 entertained. Not that I charge the exponents of these 
 religions with taking this attitude ; on the contrary, you 
 will have observed, that the very clergymen who teach 
 that Religion is a matter of Faith, have not faith enough 
 in their scheme to leave it without comment, trusting 
 that, being a matter of faith, it can require no proof. 
 On the contrary, they have filled the libraries of the 
 world with their bulky tomes, written to prove that their 
 particular scheme has its analogies in the phenomena of 
 Nature, and is in harmony with the Laws of the World and 
 of Human Life. And what is this but asking you to accept 
 it, not by faith, but because it is intellectually credible ? 
 It is true, they somewhat invert the natural order of 
 evidence, and instead of first proving their point, and 
 then asking you to accept it, they demand that you shall, 
 first of all, accept it, and then they will be prepared to 
 prove it afterwards. This, however, is only a matter of 
 form. Meanwhile, they are willing to admit that they 
 could not have guessed the truths they inculcate had they
 
 230 RELIGION. 
 
 not been revealed ; but, being revealed, they are prepared" 
 to show that nothing could have greater probability. If 
 you still object that these mysteries run counter to the 
 known Laws of Nature, they will proceed to show you that 
 nothing could be more natural than that things so un- 
 natural should occur ; nothing more reasonable than that 
 things apparently so unreasonable should be true ; nothing 
 more knowable than that things apparently so unknow- 
 able should be revealed. In a word, they are prepared to 
 maintain that no belief could be more reasonable than the 
 belief in religion. And thus we see that Religion is with 
 them not a matter of Faith, but of Intellectual Belief. 
 Were it otherwise, indeed were Religion to be accepted 
 by faith alone there would be no reason why we should 
 prefer Christianity to Mahommedanism, Buddhism, or the 
 other religions of the world. On the contrary, we should 
 be logically bound to stand forever in suspense, were it not 
 that our choice is at last determined by such intellectual 
 considerations as the success Christianity has achieved 
 among the highest races, its greater power to satisfy all 
 the wants of man's nature, its greater harmony with the 
 higher intuitions of the mind, and the like. This choice of 
 Christianity from among a number of religions, on account 
 of the higher probabilities in its favour, proves that 
 among the best class of minds it is a matter of intelligent 
 belief, and not of blind faith. If we turn to the simple- 
 minded, who have heard nothing of the wire-drawings 
 of Theologians, and know nothing of the ' Christian 
 Evidences,' we shall find that they, too, accept religion 
 not from faith, but from what to them are intellectual 
 reasons. Some there are who having tasted it, as they 
 would wine, and found it comforting, straightway believe 
 in its truth. This effect on their feelings is the reason 
 they believe it to be true, and who shall say that, in their 
 stage of culture, it is not as good a reason as they are 
 likely to find ? Others, again, and these perhaps are the 
 majority, accept it from the first without question, in the
 
 PRELIMINARY. 231 
 
 form in which tradition and authority have bequeathed it 
 to them. And, although nothing, to our nineteenth-century 
 intelligence, looks more like accepting a thing from blind 
 faith, than believing it merely because it is revealed, a 
 little consideration will show that this is a mistake. 
 For, as we saw in our last chapter, it is a law of our 
 intellectual nature a law of belief that facts which 
 cannot be accounted for by natural laws, must be attributed 
 to the agency of wills like our own, that is to say, to the 
 interference of some deity. What more natural, then, 
 that in the confused currents of a world where little can 
 be understood, minds not yet possessed with the scientific 
 sense of the universality of law should await the inter- 
 position of Providence, in the shape of a revelation, to 
 teach them how to order their lives ? And what more 
 natural for them to believe than that that revelation 
 should be the true one which has been accepted not only 
 by all those they know and love, but by so many genera- 
 tions, that have gone before them ? And thus it is that 
 whether a religion is believed from a reasoned com- 
 parison of the probabilities in its favour over those of 
 other creeds, or from personal experiences of its com- 
 forting effects, or from Revelation pure and simple, it is 
 in each instance an Intellectual Belief, depending on 
 intellectual laws, and not on mere Faith. 
 
 If we turn, now, from the Priesthood to the Men of 
 Science, we shall find that they, too, regard Religion, not 
 as a matter of Intellectual Belief, but of Faith ; not of 
 Knowledge, but of Emotion. As instance of this, take 
 the following typical passage from Professor Tyndall. 
 Speaking of creeds, he says : " It may be well to recognize 
 them as forms of a force, mischievous if permitted to 
 intrude on the region of knowledge, over which it holds no 
 command, but capable of being guided to noble issues in 
 the region of emotion, which is its proper sphere." 
 
 Now, the considerations which have given rise to this 
 idea of Religion, although superficial and plausible, rather
 
 232 RELIGION. 
 
 than solid and substantial, nevertheless demand the 
 earnest attention of the reader. In the first place, then, 
 when we contemplate the infinite shades and gradations of 
 religious opinion, the endless and petty distinctions of 
 sect, and dogma, and creed, all of which are as resolutely 
 upheld as if they were the very pillars of the faith, we are 
 incapable of conceiving on what real intellectual laws such 
 frivolous or absurd distinctions can depend. We ask our- 
 selves what new Law of the World or of Human Life, for 
 example, could possibly have given rise to the new and 
 peculiar vagaries of Mormonism or Shakerism, and have 
 necessitated their being differentiated as new oracles of 
 truth ? What genuine natural analogy can lie at the root 
 of the doctrine of Transubstantiation ? What natural and 
 inherent reason can give a sacred efficacy to sprinkling 
 that is denied to plunging, or to plunging that is denied to 
 sprinkling ? And if it is impossible to discover any reason 
 in the nature of things, what can we think but that Religion 
 is a matter of revelation or faith, but not of intellectual 
 belief? Now, although to the scientific mind, which 
 demands for each distinction a genuine thought, this 
 conclusion may seem natural and reasonable, a little 
 consideration will show that it is unfounded. For it is 
 necessary to observe that, however fantastic or absurd much 
 that is bound up in religious creeds may seem to be, the 
 basis and groundwork of the creed will be found to rest on as 
 rigid a backbone of intellectual law as any other beliefs 
 whatsoever. Indeed, it is not until this basis and ground- 
 work of a creed is found to be intellectually credible, that 
 the superficial and fantastic fringework of it will be 
 accepted. Not that a creed is swallowed as a whole 
 because there is sufficient of what is wholesome and 
 palatable in it to carry off what is nauseous or absurd ; 
 nor because it is so presented that the offensive or 
 ridiculous is minimized or concealed ; nor yet, again, 
 because the mind, like the body, will only appropriate 
 what is nourishing, rejecting all that is noxious or
 
 PRELIMINARY. 233 
 
 superfluous ; but really because the basis and groundwork 
 having once been accepted from conviction and on intel- 
 lectual grounds, the excrescences, superficial and fantastic 
 accompaniments will be found, strange to say, not incon- 
 sistent with that basis and groundwork. 
 
 Let me illustrate this. We have already seen that it is 
 a Law of the Human Mind, that when phenomena cannot 
 be accounted for by natural laws, they are attributed to 
 the agency of wills like our own. The great phenomena 
 of the world lie quite beyond man's control, and complete 
 their cycle of changes quite independently of his will. 
 They must, therefore, be referred to the agency of some 
 superhuman will or Deity. If, then, the Deity holds the 
 ^"orld and all its movements as reins in his hands, what 
 more natural than that he should control them as he 
 pleases ? And hence it is that interference with the laws 
 and movements of the world or miracles instead of 
 being regarded with wonder and surprise, as if they were 
 portents, are, in early stages of thought, the most natural 
 things in the world. They are looked for and expected, 
 and when they occur are as credible as any other event. 
 And, of course, if miracles in general are believable, any 
 particular miracle is believable. If there is a mystic 
 efficacy in the laying-on of hands, why not in dipping, or 
 sprinkling, or plunging ? If there is a Divine Presence 
 in the sanctuary, why not in the bread and wine also ? If, 
 in one age and among one people, Christ was honoured 
 by being made the mouthpiece of Heaven, why not 
 Mahomet, in another age and among another people ? And 
 if Mahomet, why not Joe Smith or Joanna Southcote ? 
 If the Apostles were inspired and endowed with the 
 power of working miracles, why should not the Catholic 
 Church in Council be so also ? And if the Church in 
 Council, why not the Pope himself when speaking ex 
 cathedra ? The truth is, once believe that the interposition 
 of the Deity is necessary for the right ordering of human 
 affairs, and that in different ages he makes different men
 
 234 RELIGION. 
 
 the bearers of his messages to man, there will be no limits- 
 to the number of aspirants to the honour of being the 
 exponents of the Divine Will, but the difficulty of finding 
 believers who are sufficiently disengaged from the old 
 beliefs to be open to a new revelation. In India, indeed, 
 where, from want of scientific knowledge, so many things 
 are unaccountable, and where the people are always open 
 for the reception of a new divinity to explain them, the 
 manufacture of deities may be seen openly going on at 
 this hour. Any person of exceptional powers or unusual 
 sanctity; any object with peculiar and unaccountable 
 properties; any peculiar tree, or stone even, gradually 
 becomes sacred, is worshipped, and finally erected into a 
 deity. And thus it is, that so long as men are in that stage 
 of thought where they believe that the direct interposition 
 of the Deity is necessary to account for phenomena, there 
 is no religion, however fantastic or absurd, that is logically 
 inconsistent with that belief. If we are asked how it is, 
 then, that the more absurd anomalies and superstitions of 
 the old beliefs could never again be revived, except, perhaps, 
 among the most ignorant portion of the population, 
 our answer is, that there is a law by which errors decay 
 and are forgotten, just as there is a law by which truths 
 grow and are spread abroad ; and that, in the progress of 
 scientific discovery, certain facts and truths become so 
 patent and verifiable, so bold and menacing, that the old 
 superstitions that run counter to them shrink abashed from 
 their presence, until, at last, they are seen no more, and so 
 decease ; such only as the great mass of the people have 
 not seen openly confronted and put to shame, lingering on 
 in the market-place and at the street-corner, by the secret 
 connivance of the Priesthood, until men of thought and 
 culture have to turn their heads aside as they pass. 
 
 The assumption, then, of the Men of Science that 
 Religion is a matter of Faith, and not of Intellectual 
 Deduction, turns out to be without foundation. Indeed, it 
 is high time that the coup de grace should, once for all, be
 
 PRELIMINARY. 235. 
 
 given to the baseless distinction sought to be imposed by 
 Theology in its decadence, and Science in its pride,, 
 between faith and ordinary belief the hallucination that 
 Religion, or anything else, is or can be accepted by faith 
 alone. For there is no old woman so hopelessly stupid 
 and credulous, but has good grounds, so far as her know- 
 ledge and culture extend, for the faith she has in the 
 person or thing in whom she chooses to repose confidence. 
 What to you looks like blind faith, is not so to her, but, if 
 well probed, will be found to depend on some reason which 
 to her own mind is solid and sufficient the fact, perhaps, 
 that you keep your carriage and live in a certain street, 
 your reputation or success, your rank and title all of 
 which, in the absence of special knowledge, are weighty 
 points, and as good intellectual reasons as in her stage of 
 culture you could expect or, for some time yet, hope to 
 find. 
 
 But the Scientists, if dislodged from their first position, 
 viz., that Religion is a matter of Faith, fall back on their 
 second, viz., that it is a matter of Emotion. And although 
 this view, like the last, is erroneous, like it, too, it has a 
 superficial plausibility. For it is notorious that religious 
 beliefs can be aroused by stimulating the emotions, and 
 that they die away when the emotions turn cold, or the 
 stimulus is withdrawn. You have only, during a period of 
 religious excitement, to gather a few score of men and 
 women together into a place of worship, to start one or 
 two of the more fervid and devout praying, when presently 
 you shall see the whole mass begin to heave and groan r . 
 the strong hearts begin to melt, the wicked, stricken to the 
 earth by the sense of sin, to tremble and cry for mercy, 
 until at last the cheerful tidings of salvation, whispered 
 into their willing ears, lifts the load of guilt from their 
 hearts, opens up on their darkened souls a morning 
 horizon from which the clouds of doubt and despair have 
 rolled away, and so, in the quiet assurance that they have 
 found the truth, they rest in peace. On witnessing an
 
 236 RELIGION. 
 
 exhibition of this kind, what can you say but, with Professor 
 Tyndall, that Religion is an emotion ? And yet there is a 
 fallacy in this conclusion, which a little consideration will 
 make manifest. For although it is true that religious 
 .beliefs can be aroused by stimulating the emotions, it does 
 .not therefore follow that Religion is an Emotion, and not 
 .an Intellectual Belief, dependent on intellectual laws. The 
 part played by the emotions in Religion is like the part 
 played in the convictions of a jury by the rhetoric of a 
 brilliant counsel. Like him, they present certain portions 
 of the evidence in strong colours, and withdraw other 
 portions into the shade ; they assume as true, and proceed 
 to argue on, the very thing which is still hypothesis and 
 remains to be proven. But, although coloured by the 
 .emotions, religious beliefs are not less intellectual beliefs 
 '(true or false, it matters not) than the convictions of a jury, 
 ^although coloured by counsel, are intellectual convictions. 
 It is the same with all our natural beliefs. It is a law of 
 the mind that our intellectual convictions are modified by 
 the temporary or permanent state of our emotions ; the 
 office of Philosophy being to neutralize these distorting 
 influences ; Science even, in its observations, having to 
 allow for the constitution of our senses and the disturb- 
 ances due to individual idiosyncracies. Is a man's political 
 belief, for example, not an intellectual conviction, because 
 perchance the premises from which it is drawn may be 
 dyed by self-interest, association, prestige, tradition, and 
 the like ? Is Toryism or Radicalism a mere emotion, 
 because much of pride, envy, or self-interest enter into the 
 reasons which commend it to the mind ? Is a lover's 
 opinion of his beloved less real, because it may be a brow 
 of Egypt on which he thinks he sees Helen's beauty ? or 
 of his mistress, because to his jealous imagination trifles 
 light as air are confirmations strong as books of Holy 
 Writ ? Is the belief of the consumptive in the latest 
 nostrum less genuine, because his buoyant nature weaves 
 solid convictions out of the sunbeams of hope ? or the
 
 PRELIMINARY. 237 
 
 despair of the melancholic, because over the brightest 
 prospect his gloomy nature casts a pall ? Fear, too, 
 exercises the same influence on our intellectual beliefs ; 
 and there is not an old woman who believes in Super- 
 natural beings in general, but could, I am convinced, be 
 goaded by fear into as genuine a belief in Witchcraft and 
 other extinct superstitions as was prevalent in the Middle 
 Ages. Emotion, too, influences our own opinions of our 
 own conduct. Leave us to ourselves, and we will cheer- 
 fully recognize our shortcomings, and the silent reactions 
 of the mind will prompt us, perhaps, to make reparation ; 
 but persecute, sting, and insult us, and you thereby so 
 emphasize the considerations that make for our own 
 justification, and so intensify our feeling of our own 
 injuries, that you leave us with precisely the opposite 
 convictions with which we started. John Stuart Mill, 
 with fine prescience, foretold that the war between the 
 North and South in America, which began as a war of 
 interest, would, if sufficiently prolonged, and the passions 
 on either side were thoroughly roused, end in a war of 
 principle ; and such, indeed, was the case. Now, it is 
 precisely the same with Religion. A friend of mine, who 
 had been carried away by the tide of Revivalism that 
 swept over my native town in my early days, confessed 
 to me at the time, when pressed, that the somewhat thin 
 and unsubstantial credence he had formerly given to the 
 Christian Religion, was, by the fierce religious excitement 
 which prevailed around him, quickened into a burning 
 conviction, without a single new fact, new argument, new 
 reason, being added to the previously-existing stock of 
 evidence in his mind. The truth was, that the intense 
 play of hope and fear, the alternate tension and relaxation 
 of feeling as the different aspects of the Christian scheme 
 were passed before his imagination, so affected the 
 evidence placed before him, that what was in itself mere 
 hypothesis was taken as burning fact, what was mere 
 hope as if it were solid reality, what was wished for as if
 
 .238 RELIGION. 
 
 it were realized ; just as children, through the fear or 
 fascination of ghost stories, turn imaginative into real 
 objects ; or men in a panic take for granted the things of 
 all others most important to be proved. And thus it is that 
 religious beliefs are no exceptions to our ordinary beliefs, 
 but, like them, are affected by emotion, and yet, like them, 
 are, as we have seen, genuine intellectual beliefs. Like 
 them, too, their vagaries, absurdities, and insanities are 
 kept in check by mutual antagonism, and by the number 
 of disinterested persons whose emotions in the matter are 
 neutral, or respond only to normal stimuli men who 
 judicially examine the evidence without losing their heads 
 through hope or fear, and who, by insulating each 
 absurdity with a ring of damped and unprejudiced thought, 
 keep in abeyance the devouring fires of fanaticism. 
 
 And now, having brushed aside the popular miscon- 
 ception sprung from the convergence of the Priesthood 
 and the Men of Science, viz., that Religion is a matter of 
 Faith, Emotion, or Sentiment, and not of Intellectual 
 Belief, we are in a position to enter on a consideration 
 of the Laws on which all religions have been constructed, 
 .and along the lines of which they have been evolved.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE LAW OF REFLEXION. 
 
 AT the outset of this chapter I may remark, that although 
 Religion depends on the same laws of evidence as our 
 ordinary beliefs, it nevertheless differs from these beliefs in 
 having as its subject-matter the Cause or causes of the 
 phenomena of the world, and not the phenomena them- 
 selves. It is necessary, therefore, to make special and 
 separate enquiry into the Laws of the Mind on which it is 
 constructed; as when these are once discovered, we shall 
 the more readily perceive its effects on that great end of 
 all our efforts the elevation and expansion of the in- 
 dividual mind. If, then, we consider Religion in general, 
 i.e., those cardinal features common to all religions, we 
 shall find that the laws on which it is constructed may all 
 be included under two great principles : 
 
 1. That, by the nature of our intelligence, we are 
 
 bound to represent the Cause of Things in terms 
 of ourselves, i.e., of our knowledge and culture, 
 our social and moral ideals, and habits of thought. 
 
 2. That the Human Mind, like the World, is a balance 
 
 of polar forces, and must get itself harmonised 
 
 on penalty of disruption. 
 
 A glance over the history of the world will discover to 
 us that religions differ from each other in three great and 
 important aspects ; in the number of the gods, as seen in
 
 2 4 o RELIGION. 
 
 the passage of religions through the successive stages of 
 Animism, Fetischism, Polytheism, and Monotheism ; in 
 the character of the gods, as seen in the gradual change 
 from the bloody and revengeful gods of the savage, to the 
 gods of Greek and Roman Polytheism, with their mingled 
 virtues and vices, onwards to the Christian Deity, infinite 
 in power, holiness, goodness, and truth ; and lastly in the 
 relation in which men stand to their gods, as seen in the 
 different ' schemes of salvation ' abroad in the world, with 
 their variety of duties, rites, and ceremonies, their rewards 
 and punishments, present and prospective. Now, it is the 
 first and second of these great cardinal features of all 
 religions, viz., the number and character of the gods, that 
 depend on the first Law above enunciated the law, viz., 
 that men must construct their idea of the Cause of Things 
 " in terms of their existing knowledge, culture, and habit of 
 thought. 
 
 In an earlier chapter I have already shown that the 
 number of the gods as seen in the passage of religions 
 through the Fetischistic, Polytheistic, and Monotheistic 
 stages of thought depends on the law that, when the 
 natural causes of phenomena are unknown, events are 
 attributed to the agency of wills like our own, and, con- 
 sequently, that, as these phenomena become more and 
 more reduced under the dominion of natural forces, fewer 
 and fewer deities are necessary to account for them. And 
 as this law is merely the intellectual side of the more 
 general law that we must represent the Cause of Things 
 in terms of ourselves I shall not dwell on it any further 
 here, but shall pass on to show that the character of the 
 gods is the product and reflection of men's knowledge, 
 culture, and habits of thought. 
 
 If, in imagination, we picture the World as it lay around 
 the primitive savage a vast chaos of unknown powers and 
 forces, in the midst of which he stood as a poor unpro- 
 tected atom it is evident that he must have regarded 
 these powers as Good or Evil, according as they afforded
 
 THE LA W OF REFLEXION. 241 
 
 him pleasure by ministering to his comforts and supply- 
 ing his wants, or gave him pain by endangering his 
 life and destroying his means of subsistence. And, 
 assuming, what we know must have been the case, 
 that he had little or no knowledge of the nature or laws 
 of these phenomena, and that, in consequence, he 
 was bound to refer them to the agency of wills like his 
 own, what more natural and inevitable than that he 
 should regard the tempest and lightning that scathed him, 
 the floods, earthquakes, and volcanoes that overwhelmed 
 him, and the relentless sea that devoured him, as under 
 the immediate control of evil and malicious deities ; while 
 the genial sun that warmed and comforted him, the earth 
 that clothed and fed him, the fountain that cooled and 
 refreshed him, should be presided over by friendly and 
 beneficent powers ? But, as knowledge advanced, and 
 these phenomena were found to be due to the action of 
 natural forces dependent on natural laws, not only did 
 those deities that formerly exercised control over the 
 various powers of Nature die away, as was seen at the 
 break-up of Paganism, but the pressure of man's wants, 
 which first urged him to investigate the properties of 
 natural objects, urged him still further to apply the know- 
 ledge so gained to the arts of life, and thereby enabled 
 him, in time, to control the hostile elements, and to con- 
 vert what were formerly the instruments of Evil to himself 
 into the instruments of Good. Not only did he make 
 defences for himself against each of those powers of Nature 
 that were hostile to him as houses to shield him from the 
 tempest, dykes from the floods, and ships from the raging 
 waters but, by the knowledge he had gained of the natures 
 of things, he was enabled to turn these powers to his good. 
 He made use of the earth to grow him corn, of the sea to 
 transport it, of wind and water to grind it, and of fire to 
 cook it. With the hostile powers of Nature thus tamed 
 and subdued to his will, and devoted to his use and 
 benefit, it was henceforth impossible for him to believe 
 
 R
 
 242 RELIGION. 
 
 that they were either evil in themselves, or presided over 
 by evil deities. The result was, that with no need of 
 Deities to explain what Natural Laws were sufficient to 
 account for, and with no reason for believing those powers 
 to be Evil which he had made the ministers of Good, 
 nothing was left but for the old systems of Paganism to 
 pass away, and a new Religion to arise, in which the 
 powers of Nature should be represented as all working 
 together for the Good of Man, and which should have for 
 object of worship One God the parent of all good, the 
 provider of all natural bounties ; the Devil alone being 
 still retained as necessary to account for those evils which 
 shave resulted from human nature itself, and which the 
 civilization and culture of centuries have not yet been 
 able to eliminate. The old systems of Paganism seem 
 absurd to us now, and yet how natural it was for the 
 savage to believe that those elements which harmed him, 
 -and which he was unable to control, were the workings of 
 malicious powers, may be realised by ourselves whenever 
 we lose control over the forces of Nature, and find our- 
 selves for the time being at their mercy. As we ride in 
 safety, for example, over the bosom of the deep, how 
 patronizingly we regard it as a mere bulk of water; but 
 let an accident precipitate us into the devouring element, 
 unable to swim, and some of my readers may remember 
 with what terrible vividness they then realized, for the 
 first time, that it was a living demon, relentless and im- 
 placable. 
 
 In so far, then, as the Gods of the various Religions were 
 personifications, as it were, of the powers of Nature, their 
 characters corresponded to the civilization and stage of 
 thought of the people by whom they were worshipped. 
 But there are other objects of human thought besides the 
 phenomena of Nature ; there is also the nature of Man, 
 and the changes through which he has passed in know- 
 ledge, culture, and modes of life. And if, in the early 
 religions, some deities were personifications of the powers
 
 THE LA W OF REFLEXION. 243 
 
 of Nature, others, again, reflected the mental and moral 
 lineaments of the people themselves. The former, as 
 representing the larger and more general operations of 
 Nature, became the greater gods the Dii majores and 
 among many savage tribes are so still ; the latter, as 
 representing the special concerns of human beings, became 
 the lesser gods the gods of the tribe, the lares and penates, 
 and the like. But it was not long before the operations of 
 the great powers of Nature were found to be due to natural 
 forces which obeyed natural laws. The result was, that the 
 Dii majores of Paganism disappeared, and one of the tribal 
 gods, as the Jehovah of the Jews, was elevated to the 
 supreme direction of the World of Nature, as well as of 
 Man. And, further, while the Nature-gods, who were the 
 reflection of forces that were good or evil in general, were 
 represented as endowed with the moral qualities of good 
 or evil in general ; the tribal-gods, who were the reflections 
 of human life, were endowed, not merely with the general 
 moral qualities of good or evil, but with the special forms 
 this good or evil assumed among the tribes and peoples 
 themselves. In that \vorship of ancestral spirits, for ex- 
 ample, which is not only the most primitive form of existing 
 religion, but is, perhaps, the earliest form of all religion, 
 the gods are in every way the express image of the chiefs 
 of the tribe, not only morally, but physically also. Being 
 the spirits of these departed chiefs, they have not only the 
 same occupations and tastes, inclinations and aversions, as 
 living chiefs, but are propitiated by the same offerings 
 offerings, too, of the most gross and material kind, as food 
 to eat, scalps and trophies taken from conquered tribes, 
 weapons with which to fight the enemy in the land of 
 spirits. In every respect they have the same bloody and 
 revengeful natures as the people themselves by whom they 
 are worshipped ; their rewards and punishments are of the 
 same character, and are distributed in the same way, and 
 for the same kinds of conduct and action. In this stage 
 of culture, it may be remarked, there is every probability
 
 244 RELIGION. 
 
 that the Nature-gods, as some have supposed, were 
 figured in the popular imagination as the spirits of 
 departed chiefs, friendly or hostile. As Civilization and 
 Knowledge continued to advance, and the gods of the tribe 
 became farther removed in time and distance, they cease 
 to be quite palpable and material, and become more grey 
 and indistinct in outline, dwelling far away in dim remote- 
 ness; nevertheless, they still continue to reflect the virtues 
 and vices of the great mass of the people who own their 
 sway. In the Iliad, the gods have precisely the same 
 qualities, idealised and expanded, as the Greek and Trojan 
 heroes ; the same physical strength, intellect, courage, 
 passion, cunning, and revenge; and, moreover, the speeches 
 put into their mouths are precisely the same as those of 
 the heroes, both in tone and point of view. The Jehovah 
 of the early Jewish history is only a higher development 
 of the old tribal-god ; and is represented as possessing just 
 such qualities, idealised, as we can imagine in the chief of 
 a tribe in the same stage of culture. He is represented as 
 more or less in the form of a man; and, although exacting, 
 as having great regard for his own people, but as jealous 
 of other gods, cruel and revengeful towards other tribes. 
 As time rolls on, and the small tribes of the world become 
 gradually welded by conquest into large and highly-organised 
 kingdoms, warfare loses its personal, bloody, and inter- 
 necine character, and becomes impersonal, legalized, and 
 softened under Civilized forms; in Carlyle's words, "it 
 ceases to be Choctaw, and becomes a Chivalry." The gods 
 of the nations, accordingly, although still remaining mili- 
 tary, lose their bloody and remorseless characters; Jehovah 
 still remains the ' God of Battles,' but ceases to be a god 
 of cruelty and revenge. And, now that Civilization has 
 reached a point where men's moral ideals have advanced 
 from admiration of personal prowess and courage to 
 admiration of moral and intellectual courage; where 
 humane ideas everywhere prevail; and where peaceful in- 
 dustry has become the idol of the nations; one rarely hears
 
 THE LA W OF REFLEXION. 245 
 
 of the God of Battles ; except, perhaps, when some arch- 
 bishop of the Church inaugurates a campaign with 
 prayers to Him for the success of our arms, or returns 
 thanks at its close for its successful issue. 
 
 We must not, of course, expect to find the real causal 
 connexion between men's culture and the number and 
 character of the gods they worship, as close and 
 intimate historically as is here represented ; as there are 
 many minor considerations which interfere with it and 
 which must be allowed for. Among others, for example, 
 is the fact that no Society is homogeneous throughout ; 
 but, on the contrary, the cultivated classes are usually some 
 centuries ahead of the great body of the people living in 
 the same community at the same time. Hence it was 
 that the Polytheism of Paganism long survived the time 
 when it was natural that the thunder should be believed 
 to be the voice of Jove, and the lightning his bolt ; and 
 went living on, with augurs winking at it, until the 
 knowledge necessary to damn it had descended to the 
 masses of the people, and another religion had arisen, more 
 in conformity with the culture, aspiration, and yearnings 
 of the time. But if Religion sometimes lags behind the 
 culture of the period, at other times, again, it bounds 
 before it. The Monotheism of the Jews was in advance 
 of the intellectual culture which ultimately would have 
 necessitated it ; and was due, no doubt, to tribal antagonism, 
 to peculiarities of the Jewish mind, and to peculiarities in 
 their situation and circumstances ; but still the character 
 of Jehovah sufficiently reflected the progress of Jewish 
 culture. Previous to the coming of Christ, among the 
 many and sublime virtues with which Jehovah was endowed 
 were mingled some human weaknesses. But when Christ 
 appeared and announced himself as being one with the 
 Father, and when the influence of his beautiful life and 
 teachings began to permeate society, the effect was to 
 throw into the background the old idea of Jehovah, and to 
 give prominence in the new conception to those beautiful
 
 246 RELIGION. 
 
 characteristics so marked in Christ himself. And then it 
 was that, with that tendency so inherent in men to give 
 roundness and completeness to what they regard with love 
 and admiration, the doctors of the Church ascribed an 
 infinite perfection to all those attributes of the Father 
 which were so prominent in the Son mercy, justice,, 
 goodness, and truth. But, just as Paganism, before it,, 
 paid the penalty of living too long, by dying without hope 
 of resurrection; so Christianity has paid the penalty of giving 
 a greater sweep in its representation of the attributes of the 
 Deity than a just insight into Nature will warrant. So 
 long as Theological habits of thought prevailed, and men 
 were able to give full scope to their feelings by accommo- 
 dating their idea of the Deity to the desires of their minds, 
 all was well. But when Science, with its accurate percep- 
 tions, had advanced to a point where its results were no 
 longer to be gainsaid, Christianity began to crack, and 
 finally fell to pieces, from the incompatibility of its philo- 
 sophical basis its six days' creation, fall of man, resur- 
 rection, ascension, and other miracles with a scientific 
 knowledge of the Laws of the World and of Human life.. 
 And, as the old conception of Jehovah had already been 
 discarded, from its incompatibility with those humane ideas 
 which were begotten of Civilization and Culture, the later 
 Christian conception of the Deity was left standing face 
 to face with the teachings of Nature; and then it was seen 
 that a just insight into the constitution of the World would 
 not justify men in endowing the Deity with those infinite 
 attributes of power and goodness which the Christian 
 Religion had ascribed to Him. Men pointed to the cruelty, 
 the misery, the pain, which are not only the lot of poor 
 humanity, but are apparently woven into the very texture 
 and order of Nature races of animals preying on race,, 
 tribes of men on tribes, injustice, oppression, and misery 
 everywhere and asked whether these things were com- 
 patible with a Deity who was represented as literally infinite 
 in power, mercy, goodness, and truth : and, as no satis-
 
 THE LA W OF REFLEXION. 247 
 
 factory reply was forthcoming, they were bound to reject 
 the Christian Deity altogether. And as, from old associa- 
 tion, they were unable to conceive of any other God but 
 the God represented in Christianity ; and as they had never 
 dreamt of a Theism in which God should be endowed with 
 attributes and powers less than infinite ; they did not stop 
 at the conception of a Great Cause which should adequately 
 reflect the genius and constitution of the World, but rushed 
 on down to Materialism and Atheism. Such is the effect 
 of claiming for the Deity more than our knowledge of 
 Nature and of the human mind will justify. And, indeed, 
 we may confidently predict that, until men perceive that 
 the idea of an absolutely infinite God is a metaphysical 
 illusion, a fond imagination of early thought rounding off 
 its conceptions to suit the desires of the mind ; until they 
 perceive that the evil propensities of men, like the claws, 
 teeth, and horns of animals, are not inherent essences, but 
 only means and instruments whereby, in the design of Nature, 
 each creature shall strive to maintain its proper individuality, 
 and not become the mere appendage of another ; and, 
 furthermore, that race preying on race is, in a limited world, 
 where no one creature can have unlimited gratification, 
 the only way of doing all-round justice ; while, at the same 
 time, the very struggle itself is the means whereby higher 
 and higher powers are evolved, like the statue from the 
 obdurate marble ; until all this, which lies ready to be seen 
 when looked at from the right angle and point of view, is 
 recognised, no religion can arise which will command the 
 suffrages of the present age. This, however, by the way. 
 What I was endeavouring to enforce was the fact that if 
 the religion of any given time and place does not always 
 accurately correspond to the existing state of knowledge 
 and culture, it is due to the interference of causes which 
 can be discovered and allowed for, and not to any limitation 
 or exception to the great law that religions are, and must 
 be, the offspring and image of men's thought and culture. 
 And, moreover, I may add that the very fact that the
 
 248 RELIGION. 
 
 attempt to found a new religion, so characteristic of the 
 present time, consists in the attempt to find a creed that 
 shall harmonize with existing thought and culture, proves 
 that Religion must always have been the product of men's 
 Thought and Culture, its image and reflexion.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE LAW OF THE BALANCES. 
 
 HAVING seen in the last chapter that the first two cardinal 
 aspects of all religions the number and character of the 
 deities men worship depend on the first law there 
 enunciated, viz., that we are bound by the constitution of 
 our minds to construct the Cause of Things in terms 
 of ourselves, we come now to the third great aspect of 
 religions the relation in which men stand to their deities 
 and shall endeavour to show that this depends on the 
 second law enunciated, viz., that the mind is a harmonious 
 structure and must balance itself on penalty of disruption. 
 Now, it is necessary to remark that this is not an isolated 
 law, or one peculiar to the mind, but is merely one aspect 
 of a law that runs through all existence the Law of 
 Polarity, or of the Balances, as I have elsewhere called it 
 the simplest and most comprehensive statement, as it 
 seems to me, of the plan on which the Universe is con- 
 structed. This law is not, as might be imagined, a mere 
 corollary of the Law of Evolution ; on the contrary, the 
 Law of Evolution is a corollary of it. Mr. Spencer admits 
 that the Law of Evolution is a direct deduction from the 
 fact that the atoms of which the matter of the Universe 
 is composed exist in the polar forms of attraction and 
 repulsion. It is, therefore, a deduction from the Law of 
 the Balances ; and not the Law of the Balances a deduction
 
 250 RELIGION. 
 
 from it. The Law of Evolution is best exemplified in 
 the concrete things of which the Universe is made up 
 the Solar System as a whole, the physical structure of the 
 Earth as a whole, Mankind as a whole, Man himself and 
 other animals as wholes ; the Law of the Balances, on the 
 contrary, is best seen in each and every part of these 
 concrete things in the centrifugal and centripetal motions 
 of the planets ; in action and reaction in Physics; in the ebb 
 and flow of tides ; in supply and demand in Trade ; reform 
 and conservatism in Politics ; sleep and wake, inspiration 
 and expiration, systole and diastole in Organic Life ; gene- 
 ralization and individualization in Thought ; integration and 
 differentiation in Matter, and the like. The Law of Evolu- 
 tion, with inexorable rigour, deduces, not only the move- 
 ments of the stars and the structure of animals, but the 
 noblest exercise of the reason and the highest intuitions 
 of the soul, from the material fact that matter is limited in 
 quantity and exists in the antagonistic forms of attraction 
 and repulsion, and thereby incurs the charge of Material- 
 ism ; the Law of the Balances limits itself to stating the 
 fact that the World is a series of balances on an ascending 
 scale, but does not assume that the high attributes of the 
 Mind are but modes of the low attributes of Matter and 
 Motion, and so escapes that charge. The Law of Evolu- 
 tion, while representing Nature as evolving from lower to- 
 higher organisms along a spiral line in which there is no- 
 breach of continuity at any point, is obliged at last to> 
 admit that the gulf between Matter and Mind cannot be 
 bridged, and so stultifies its own pretensions to being a 
 complete interpretation ; the Law of the Balances, on the 
 contrary, represents Nature as constructed on an identical 
 plan throughout, its phenomena lying above one another 
 in successive hierarchies, but does not pretend to bridge 
 the unbridgeable, or explain the inexplicable. The Law of 
 Evolution, in representing the highest attributes of the 
 Mind as modes only of the attributes of Matter, makes 
 Mind and Matter in essence the same, and so runs counter
 
 THE LAW OF THE BALANCES. 251 
 
 to the intuitions of mankind ; the Law of the Balances^ 
 represents them as different in essence, and so preserves 
 that hierarchy of nature and attribute among things, which 
 is in harmony with our natural intuitions, and on which 
 all our organized intelligence rests. 
 
 Now, it is in the action of the Mind that this Law of 
 the Balances plays so conspicuous and important a part. 
 Our desires, imaginations, and aspirations, stretch out to 
 infinitude ; but the extent to which it is probable that we 
 shall be able to gratify them in this life is limited by the 
 finite nature of the world, and by the circumstances in 
 which we are placed. We should all like to be emperors, 
 kings, or other great potentates ; but, on finding that these 
 high arenas are practically closed to us, we cut down our 
 ambitions to a point that is commensurate with our 
 chances of success, to the point where there is a balance 
 between our efforts and our hopes, our desires and their 
 likelihood of attainment. Were it not so, the mind would 
 become numbed and paralyzed by the constant endeavour 
 to surmount the insurmountable, to attain the unattain- 
 able, as our arms do by the constant endeavour to hold on 
 to what is too large for their embrace. Or, say that we 
 begin low down in the world, and, looking around, see no- 
 chance of rising out of the position in which we were 
 born ; we restrict our ambition to the limited sphere in 
 which success seems possible or probable. \ But suddenly 
 we either discover unexpected powers in ourselves, or 
 circumstances throw us out of our former sphere into a 
 higher and wider arena ; when out go the sand-bags that 
 kept us down, and our ambition mounts like a balloon to 
 the point where the inner world of aspiration and hope 
 balances the outer world of circumstance and reality, x 
 
 If our practical and worldly ambitions are thus obliged 
 to adapt themselves to circumstances, and so to find their 
 balance, the longing for the Ideal still remains, and is not 
 to be put off, but is as importunate as ever. A balance, 
 therefore, must somewhere be found for this longing ; and if
 
 252 RELIGION. 
 
 it cannot be found in the real world, it must be sought for 
 in the ideal. Now, it is part of the constitution of the world 
 that the high promise and ideal which our hearts foretell 
 shall not spring up and blossom in a night, but shall be 
 gradually unfolded from generation to generation, from age 
 to age. And as the longing for the Ideal is, and always has 
 been, a part of Human Nature, it is evident that at no given 
 point of time can this mundane world yield that full gratifi- 
 cation to all our aspirations, sentiments, and powers, which 
 is so essential to their harmony and balanced activity. 
 Consider, for example, how many ages must have come and 
 gone, even after the world had been brought to feed and 
 clothe us, before it could give us security for property 
 and marriage-ties, courts of justice, and personal and 
 political liberty. And, even now, how far have we still to 
 go before we shall be able to dispense with the policeman ; 
 and before justice and goodness shall become natural, 
 habitual, and instinctive ? And hence it is evident that at 
 no given point of time during this long incubation, can our 
 aspirations, wants, and sentiments, find full gratification 
 in the real world. An ideal world must therefore be pro- 
 vided for them the world of Religion, of Poetry, and of 
 Art. Of these three, Religion, giving satisfaction, as it 
 does, to the great cardinal wants of human nature, is the 
 most powerful and universal sentiment ; and must, there- 
 fore, be our most serious and important concern. There 
 are but comparatively few men, it must be admitted, 
 whose love for high and aesthetic enjoyment is so keen and 
 exorbitant that the loss of those special forms of Beauty 
 with which the great masters of Art, Music, and Poetry, 
 have endowed and enriched the world, would be felt to be 
 an irreparable calamity. With the great mass of mankind, 
 the lower, more carnal, and material wants and ambitions 
 fill up the efforts and struggles of a lifetime money, 
 power, position, luxury, fame, material prosperity, family 
 aggrandisement. And yet, owing to the uncertainty of 
 life, the capriciousness of fortune, and the limitations of
 
 THE LAW OF THE BALANCES. 25$ 
 
 circumstances, it is precisely in one or other of these aims, 
 so dear to the heart, that all men are doomed to dis- 
 appointment. They either lose their money, their health, 
 or their children ; their hopes of fortune, of position, of 
 fame are blighted ; or, if nothing else, the fleeting and in- 
 exorable years are gliding on, old age is approaching, and 
 death inevitable. Now, it is against these the staple 
 mortifications and humiliations of human life that Religion 
 is constructed or evolved as balance and compensation.. 
 Art and Poetry, ' Music and Philosophy, are, it is true, 
 excellent harbours to which those who love them can retire, 
 and, for the time being, more or less successfully defy the 
 lesser misfortunes and disappointments of life ; but the great 
 strokes of Fate, which destroy those cherished idolatries 
 that lie most immediate to our hearts, can find balance and 
 solace in Religion alone. When all earthly hopes are shat- 
 tered, the mind must fall back for rest on that which lies 
 behind the world of Time. And when Religion adds to its 
 present or prospective Heaven the additional attractions of 
 music and art, of moral and intellectual expansion, as it does 
 in the higher religions, it is easy to understand, with such full 
 organ-harmony of all our powers, aspirations, and ideals 
 sensuous, moral, and intellectual how supreme is its im- 
 portance to man. For just as, in the social world, Political 
 power takes precedence of all other power, because it affects 
 more powerfully than any other those great standing 
 interests of men person, property, fortune, business, life 
 and liberty so, in the ideal world, Religion takes pre- 
 cedence, because, more than any other, it gives solace and 
 comfort to the great standing trials and evils of human life. 
 No system of Philosophy, however true or profound, can 
 excite more than the most limited and merely intellectual 
 interest, when compared with Religion ; for no system can 
 or does hold out those combined sensuous, moral, and im- 
 aginative attractions, which all religions are commissioned 
 to dispense to their devotees. And, accordingly, you will 
 find, to your surprise and disappointment perhaps, that
 
 254 RELIGION. 
 
 persons who are most interested in what they call the 
 * spiritual concerns ' of man, have often little or no interest 
 in those great spiritual truths, the contemplation of which, 
 of itself alone, gives elevation and expansion to the mind, 
 but which do not, perhaps, specially call up those 'com- 
 forting assurances ' in which Religion has enveloped 
 them ; as misers care nothing for the great laws of Com- 
 merce or Political Economy, but are enraptured with those 
 personal narratives of money-making which call up such 
 pleasing images in their own breasts ; or frivolous young 
 women care nothing for those great Laws of the Mind on 
 which the future of mankind depends, but will listen with 
 thrilling interest to those personalities which, by their 
 associations, enwrap them in an atmosphere so flattering 
 to their own dearest hopes. 
 
 If Religion is thus thrown out as balance to the ills of 
 life, we shall expect to find the different religions of the 
 world so constructed as to provide for the special trials to 
 which the men who live under them are exposed. Among 
 savage races, for example, the greater part of the evils 
 which befall men are believed to be due to the anger of 
 offended deities ; and these deities are believed to have the 
 same bloody and revengeful character as the chiefs of the 
 tribes. To live under the ever-present consciousness that 
 such revengeful spirits are everywhere hovering around, 
 would create a tension of mind that would become unen- 
 durable. Some balance, therefore, must be thrown out to 
 relax this tension, and give rest to the mind. And what 
 more natural than that it should be the belief that the gods 
 are to be propitiated by the same gifts weapons, food, 
 trophies, and the like as are found to appease the anger 
 and secure the approbation of their chiefs ? Accordingly, 
 these offerings and sacrifices become embodied in their 
 religion, and form the most important of their religious 
 duties. In the early centuries of the Christian era, too, 
 when the Roman Empire had fallen to pieces, but before the 
 Feudal System had arisen out of its ruins, the greater part
 
 THE LAW OF THE BALANCES. 255 
 
 of mankind remained still in slavery ; Chivalry had not yet 
 appeared; and Physical Force was every where triumphant. 
 In the real world, there was no field for liberty, no arena for 
 expansion of mind, no tribunal to which moral force could 
 appeal. The consequence was, that men were bound to 
 construct an ideal world where the wants of their nature 
 should find gratification, and which should serve as balance 
 to the hardships of their earthly lot. Accordingly, to the 
 compensations which the Church held out, were added a 
 whole world of legends of saints and martyrs ; and these 
 legends soon became the most popular part of the prevailing 
 religion. They were so constructed as precisely to meet 
 the particular ills to which the people were subject ; and 
 turned, as was natural, on the blessings of liberty and the 
 cruelties of slavery, on the beauty of moral rather than 
 of physical force, or kindness, sympathy and love. And 
 now that Civilization has at last reached the point where 
 Warfare has ceased to be the main concern of nations, and 
 peaceful Industry, with its money-making and other am- 
 bitions, has taken its place, human ills have not thereby 
 disappeared, but they come to men in different shapes. 
 Instead of living in fear of slavery, mutilation, arbitrary 
 imprisonment, and violent death, men now live in fear of 
 poverty, with its train of evils loss of position, of power, 
 of grandeur, of rank, authority, and respect as well as 
 those great strokes common to men in every age loss of 
 health, of family, of friends, and the like. And, further- 
 more, owing to the capriciousness of fortune, or the peculiar 
 way in which wealth is distributed, the honest and indus- 
 trious are oft-times obliged to stand by and see their highest 
 hopes blighted, and themselves sunk in poverty and distress, 
 while the wicked continue to flourish like green bay-trees. 
 Were there no hope of rectification somewhere for such 
 dislocations of fortune, life would become intolerable, and 
 would end, as, indeed, it often does, in insanity or suicide. 
 But Religion steps in and meets the conditions of the case, 
 supplies the balance and compensation required, and so
 
 256 RELIGION. 
 
 restores the mental harmony. Here, for example, is a 
 poor old widow who has struggled hard to bring up her 
 family respectably, but whose life has been a perpetual 
 contradiction; who has suffered in turn the loss of her 
 husband, her children, and her friends ; and whose little ones 
 have oft-times, perhaps, been on the verge of starvation 
 who shall forbid her the comfort of that bright Heaven 
 which is opened up before her, where the inequalities of 
 Time shall be rectified, where not only the scorn of the 
 rich and proud shall have no place, and all her troubles 
 and trials shall cease, but where, also, her husband, friends, 
 and little ones shall rejoin her, not to part again ? But not 
 this poor widow alone has need of consolation ; all, alike, 
 have their secret sorrows, for which they require the solace 
 of Religion. And, indeed, it may be safely predicted that, so 
 long as the great masses of men are in that stage of thought 
 where the consolations of Religion are still credible, not 
 the gods themselves can prevent them from constructing an 
 ideal Heaven in the future, as balance and counterpoise 
 to this present life a Heaven in the contemplation of 
 which their minds shall find peace, and harmony, and rest. 
 But when once the stage of thought in which these beliefs 
 took rise has passed away, or when, from various causes, 
 they have become discredited (as on the Continent they 
 largely are at the present time), and when, in consequence, 
 all hope of redress from that quarter is gone; the minds of 
 men must still find a balance somewhere ; but, instead of 
 finding it in the blissful visions of another world, they will 
 find it in schemes to improve or redress the present, as 
 we see foreshadowed in such impracticable dreams as 
 Nihilism and Anarchism dreams woven by the imagina- 
 tions of men who could find no redress in the present 
 world, and had lost all belief in a future. 
 
 And, further, an examination of the religions of the 
 world will show that they all have that balanced and 
 harmonious structure which we should have been led to> 
 expect from our knowledge of the Laws on which they are
 
 THE LAW OF THE BALANCES. 257 
 
 constructed. In none, you will observe, is hope entirely 
 cut off; in all, there is a way of escape held out to the 
 guilty. The offended deities of the savages are to be 
 propitiated, as we have seen, by such gross and material 
 offerings as food and drink, weapons and clothing, the 
 sacrifice of women, of enemies, and of slaves ; the angry 
 God of the mediaeval Catholic, by self-inflicted stripes, 
 fasts, pilgrimages, penances, and other carnal mortifica- 
 tions ; while the Deity of the Protestant is to be appeased, 
 and man himself 'justified,' by faith alone. In every part, 
 too, of the Christian creed there is this balance and com- 
 pensation. If there is 'original sin' and 'total depravity,' 
 there is also 'redemption by grace ;' if in Adam all fell, in 
 Christ shall all be made alive. No sinner can be so de- 
 graded as to be beyond the pale of hope ; no sin so heinous 
 as to be without remedy and atonement. Even the un- 
 pardonable sin, 'the sin against the Holy Ghost,' is no 
 exception ; for if you are afraid you have committed it, 
 you thereby prove that you are not completely hardened, 
 and, therefore, not entirely cut off ; while, if you have no 
 fear of it, or, indeed, have never thought of it, you do not 
 need comfort and consolation. Even Calvinism, which is 
 constructed, theoretically, so as to make it as impossible 
 to throw out a balance against it, as against death itself, 
 practically admits of as much balance and compensation 
 as any other creed. For, admitting that the future lot of 
 each of us is inexorably determined before our birth, 
 practically it need not give any of us the slightest concern. 
 For, were you the prince of sinners, and your case appa- 
 rently the most desperate, still God may have hardened 
 your heart for the time being, in order the better to show 
 forth His mercy in reclaiming you ; or, like the thief on the 
 cross, you may only learn at the eleventh hour that you 
 are one of ' the elect ; ' if, on the other hand, you have 
 always tried to do what was right, and now feel the assur- 
 ance of God's mercy to you, what better guarantee could 
 you have that you are among the number of the saved ? 
 
 s
 
 258 RELIGION. 
 
 Were it nothing more, indeed, the very uncertainty of the 
 personal application of this doctrine to the case of each 
 individual, like the uncertainty of the time of death, would 
 make it practically of no effect on our life and conduct. 
 
 The same provision for a balance is seen, too, in those 
 superstitions of the Middle Ages which grew out of the pre- 
 vailing religion, but which dealt chiefly with the different 
 modes in which the Devil interfered in human affairs. 
 Did a man live in fear of the malice of witches ? there 
 were ways by which that malice could be averted ; or of 
 the evil eye ? there were means of rendering it impotent ; 
 or of the possession of demons ? there were potent charms 
 and incantations by which they were to be cast out. 
 
 In no religion with which I am acquainted is this balanced 
 structure wanting. Even the ' Religion of Humanity ' 
 of Auguste Comte, which has no Future Life, no Resur- 
 rection, no Heaven or Hell, is bound to find an Immor- 
 tality in the race ; a Resurrection, in the reappearance of 
 our best thoughts in those who are to come after us ; a 
 Heaven and Hell, in the approbation and disapprobation 
 of the Good. The only apparent exception is in the 
 Nirvana or Annihilation, which is the Heaven of the 
 Buddhists ; but it is apparent only. For some time, I 
 confess, this Nirvana was a stumbling-block to me, as it 
 seemed to run directly counter to my theory ; but the 
 more I thought of the matter, the more convinced I 
 became that it was simply incredible that the vast millions 
 of human beings who own the religion of Buddha, should 
 find consolation and indemnification for the ills of life in 
 simple annihilation or nothingness ; or even in that release 
 of the soul from the bondage of the lower desires, which 
 is believed by some Oriental scholars to be the true meaning 
 of Nirvana. And, on looking around for some positive 
 testimony to corroborate this a priori conviction, I found, 
 in the pages of Max Muller, that although Buddha himself 
 meant by Nirvana, nothingness, snuffing-out, annihilation, 
 the feelings of the masses who accepted his religion con-
 
 THE LAW OF THE BALANCES. 259 
 
 verted this nothingness and annihilation into a kind of 
 Paradise ; and Buddha, who denied the existence of a 
 Deity, into a Deity himself. No more striking instance, 
 it appears to me, could be afforded of how truly Religions 
 are constructed on the great Law of the Balances, which 
 we have just illustrated. 
 
 The three cardinal features, then, of all religions, viz., 
 the number of the gods, the character of the gods, and the 
 relations in which men stand to their gods, are constructed 
 on the Two Laws which we have just illustrated, or say, 
 rather, are evolved from them. And, in passing, I may 
 remark that I have used the term ' constructed ' in refer- 
 ence to religions, because they have all been framed by man 
 to meet certain great ends or wants of his nature ; I have 
 used the term, ' evolved,' because no one generation of 
 men have constructed them by conscious forethought, but, 
 rather, successive generations have been engaged in 
 gradually, and more or less unconsciously, moulding them 
 to their present shape. But, besides these great cardinal 
 features common to all religions, we have still to account 
 for those minor details which are peculiar to the various 
 Creeds, Churches, and Sects, and which separate and 
 distinguish them from each other. Now, although the 
 influences that have united to produce these differences 
 are too many and various to be brought under any general 
 law, they may, nevertheless, all be summed up under a few 
 broad, general categories. First in order, perhaps, is the 
 peculiar genius of the Founder of the religion. For, 
 although the broad characteristics of the religions that 
 were given to man by Moses, Confucius, Buddha, and 
 Mahomet were the products of general needs and ideas 
 of which these men were only the mouthpieces and ex- 
 ponents, still much of the minuter structure was, no doubt, 
 due to special points of knowledge, the result of their 
 peculiar training and experience ; to special ways of looking 
 at life and emphasizing its various aspects, the result of 
 their peculiar character, temperament, or genius. But of
 
 a6a RELIGION. 
 
 perhaps greater influence than the particular genius of the 
 Founder, are the special types of mind of the various Doctors 
 and Theologians who, in the successive periods of a religion's 
 history, have been engaged in shaping and elaborating it.. 
 How great, for example, has been the influence of St. Paul's 
 peculiar genius on the entire subsequent form and devel- 
 opment of Christianity. Everywhere, the interpretation, 
 the logical arrangement and development he gave to the- 
 body of facts and doctrines bequeathed to him by Christ 
 (although, in all essentials, harmonizing, doubtless, with the 
 current opinion of the infant Church) bears in its minuter 
 structure, as well as in its general features, the impress of 
 one single and striking individuality. And, still later in the 
 history of Christianity, who can deny the influence of 
 St. Augustine and the Fathers on the subsequent develop- 
 ment of Catholicism ; or of the peculiar genius of Calvin, 
 Luther, Cranmer, or Knox, on the various sections of the 
 Church most closely associated with their names ? To the 
 personal influence of Theologians on the details of religious 
 creeds, may also be added the personal influence of those 
 great Temporal Potentates who have from time to time 
 interfered, as did Roman Emperors, and even Empresses,, 
 in the deliberations of ecclesiastical Councils, and inspired 
 or dictated decisions which still remain embodied in the 
 Christian Creed. And although these various personal 
 and individual influences which have tinctured the body 
 of religious thought as it has passed down the ages, have 
 been more or less washed out by succeeding generations, 
 when not in accord with their habits of thought, still, much 
 that is the special product of personal individuality will 
 remain after all deductions. 
 
 If individual genius and character have thus had a great 
 influence in modifying the minuter structure of religions, 
 so, too, have those considerations of Expediency which have 
 the effect of bringing religious beliefs into accord with 
 existing moral and intellectual needs. As Civilization ad- 
 vances, the face of the world changes ; the old structure
 
 THE LAW OF THE BALANCES. 261 
 
 of society breaks up ; nations pass from despotic to feudal, 
 ;and from feudal on to democratic forms of government 
 .and social organization ; slavery is replaced by citizenship, 
 and warfare by peaceful industry ; and, at each transition, 
 the new relations into which the different sections of 
 society are thrown to each other have to be adjusted 
 afresh. It was one of the most splendid instances of the 
 practical sagacity of the Roman Catholic Church, that it 
 sought, by means of the decisions of its Councils and its 
 Popes, to add such new doctrine to the original body of 
 Revealed Truth as would meet the new relations constantly 
 springing up in a society which was undergoing vast 
 transformations of structure ; the only drawback being 
 that, instead of making its decisions relative to the time 
 .and place, it was bound, by the nature of the case, to make 
 them absolute, and binding in all times and in all places. 
 The consequence was, that it was unable to retreat from 
 any position which it had once taken up ; and thus many of 
 the old papal decisions, notably those against Usury the 
 legitimate interest on money lent and its fulminations 
 against Science, remain as standing protests against 
 its method and teaching. But we need not go back to the 
 past to exemplify the effect of Expediency in modifying 
 the minuter structures of creeds, for at no time has this 
 influence been more apparent than at the present. Within 
 living memory, how different is the teaching of the Church 
 on the most important points of Christian doctrine and 
 practice ; as, for example, on the nature and duration of 
 future punishment, the six days' creation, the verbal 
 inspiration of the Scriptures, the miracles of the Old and 
 New Testament, as well as on Sunday observances, 
 theatre-going, and the like. 
 
 And, lastly, as explaining the minuter structure of re- 
 ligious forms, there is the power of Tradition, or the 
 tendency there is in man to accept the old as the basis of 
 future change, rather than to begin de novo ; the effect 
 -being that much of the detail of religious doctrine and
 
 262 RELIGION. 
 
 practice is made up of traditions that have floated down 
 from the earlier times, modified or transformed to meet 
 the necessities of the present hour. Much of the early 
 ritual of Catholicism was merely the modification of 
 Jewish and Pagan rites ; and much of our present ritual 
 is a modification again of these early forms, and can be 
 traced back to them through all disguises. This tracing 
 of the transformations which religious creeds and religious 
 practices, on the one hand, have undergone from age to 
 age ; and of the circumstances of the world out of which 
 they grew, and to which they were adapted, on the other ; 
 marks the extent, I may observe in passing, to which the 
 Theory of Evolution can throw light on the great question 
 of Religion.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MENTAL EFFECTS. 
 
 IF in the last two chapters we have correctly traced the 
 great Laws on which Religion is constructed, we shall now 
 be in an easy position to estimate scientifically its effects 
 on human life ; as it is evident that the Laws of the Mind 
 out of which it arises, must be the other side, as it were, of 
 the necessities of the mind, which it is designed to meet. 
 
 Now, the first law which we saw entered into the con- 
 struction of Religion, was the law that we are bound, by 
 our intellectual nature, to represent the Cause of Things in 
 terms of our own intellectual culture and standard of 
 morality. The first great function, therefore, of Religion 
 is to give satisfaction to the craving of the mind to know 
 the Cause and Origin of Things. A glance at the different 
 religions of the world will show that they all have given 
 just such answers to the question of the Origin of Things 
 as best harmonized with the knowledge and moral culture 
 of the peoples by whom they have been accepted. To the 
 enquiry of the lowest savage and fetisch-worshipper, as to 
 the Cause of the phenomena around him, Religion replied 
 that they were due to the wills of indwelling spirits like 
 his own ; and what more natural and harmonious ex- 
 planation could be given him in his stage of culture, 
 knowing nothing, as he did, of the natural causes of 
 things ? To the same enquiry made by the great mass
 
 264 RELIGION. 
 
 of the people who accepted the Polytheistic Systems of 
 Paganism, Religion answered that the great movements 
 of Nature were due to the presiding influence of Jupiter, 
 Neptune, Thor, and the rest; and no more natural answer 
 could be given to these questions at the time these 
 religions were promulgated. Of course, as Science and 
 Culture advanced, these explanations became discredited 
 among the learned and cultivated ; but they still kept their 
 hold on the vulgar mind until they were finally swept 
 away by the new religion of Christianity, which not only 
 gave an explanation of the Cause of Things more in har- 
 mony with the advanced state of civilization and culture, 
 but which held out an ideal of life more in harmony with 
 the new situation in which men found themselves, and 
 with the new ideas that were beginning to appear as to 
 the destiny of man. And for centuries, indeed, until 
 quite recently, this religion of Christianity continued to 
 give as credible an explanation as, in the existing state 
 of knowledge, could be given of the origin of Things and 
 of the phenomena of Human Life. If it, too, after its 
 splendid career, has at last become discredited by the 
 cultured and enlightened, it still remains, consecrated by 
 tradition and authority, the most feasible explanation 
 which the great masses of men can give of the origin of 
 the World and the nature of Man. 
 
 Now, if the first function of Religion is to furnish an 
 answer to the question of the origin of the World and the 
 phenomena of Human Life, in what respect, it may be 
 asked, does it differ from Philosophy ? In essence, not at 
 all ; for all religions were once philosophies, and to those 
 who believe in them are so still. They may be, and 
 indeed are, more than philosophies ; but philosophies they 
 certainly are. Ask, for example, the most ignorant type 
 of Christian what his theory is of the cause and origin of 
 Nature, of the cause and origin of the phenomena of Human 
 Life, and his reply will be that the six days' creation of 
 Genesis is a sufficient explanation to him of the cause and
 
 MENTAL EFFECTS. 265 
 
 origin of Nature ; and the Fall of Adam, and the 'original 
 sin ' transmitted by hereditary descent through that fall, is 
 a sufficient explanation of the phenomena of Human Life. 
 And what is this but his Philosophy of the World and of 
 Human Life ? It is the same, too, with other Religious 
 Mythologies, which are merely the Philosophies which the 
 various peoples have of the world and of human life. 
 Indeed, Religion may be denned to be the Philosophy of 
 the Masses ; I and, historically, the different religions of 
 the world will be found to be philosophies which have 
 become bankrupt with the most advanced minds, but 
 which still retain their credit with the great masses of the 
 people, i How gross and primitive an explanation of the 
 World and of Human Life was the popular mythology of 
 Paganism, for example, when compared with the splendid 
 and refined systems of Plato, Aristotle, and even Epicurus ; 
 or the six days' creation of Genesis, when compared with 
 the Philosophy of Evolution ? Not only as intellectual 
 systems will religions be found to be crude and vulgar 
 philosophies, but morally, also, they will be found to be low 
 and primitive. What a low standard of morality, for 
 example, the old Pagan religion of Greece must have 
 inculcated, when the popular account given of the morality 
 of the gods was so disgraceful, that Plato would have 
 banished the Iliad from his Republic, for fear of its cor- 
 rupting effects on the minds and morals of the young. 
 In the Norse, Mahommedan, and Christian religions, too, 
 what a base conception of the moral order of the world 
 was involved in those feastings and banquets, bright-eyed 
 maidens, and harps of gold on the one hand, and purgatory, 
 brimstone, and pecuniary expiations on the other, when 
 compared with that splendid doctrine of 'Compensation' of 
 recent philosophy, in which reward and punishment, in- 
 stead of being postponed to an unknown and hypothetical 
 future, are instant, unfailing, and entire, a doctrine that 
 has for reward, simply the enlargement of our own nature, 
 .and for punishment, that loss of manhood, and moral
 
 266 . RELIGION. 
 
 descent in the scale of being, which all evil action entails. 
 But I fear that to some this loss of manhood would 
 be a comparatively trivial matter, so long as their bodies 
 and pockets escaped unscathed. In our own time, too, 
 how low and retrograde has been the teaching of the 
 Church, when compared with each and every school of 
 existing Philosophy. While all schools of Philosophy, 
 without exception, are preaching peace, it permits and 
 even encourages war ; when they all denounced the insti- 
 tution of slavery, it upheld and consecrated it. Instead 
 of the political liberty and equality of Philosophy, the 
 Church encourages, if it does not directly inculcate, 
 political inequality ; instead of the elevation of the 
 masses, which is the end Philosophy has at heart, the 
 Church labours, both by word and deed, at their repres- 
 sion. I am aware that it may be said, and with truth,, 
 that the precepts and example of Christ must not be 
 confounded with the practices and precepts of the Church ; 
 but I do not allow that men shall have credit given them 
 for ideal precepts and examples which they profess to follow, 
 when the Church, which embodies the real opinions and 
 prejudices of these very individuals, preaches doctrines 
 antagonistic to these precepts, and permits practices 
 inconsistent with these examples. 
 
 If the first function of Religion is to satisfy the intellect 
 in its demand for Cause, its second function is to satisfy 
 the cravings of the imagination and heart. It is in this 
 that it differs chiefly from Philosophy, which, although 
 it satisfies the demand for Cause, does not, in its legitimate 
 province, primarily aim at arousing the imagination, con- 
 science, or emotions. Now, Religion satisfies the cravings 
 of the heart and imagination, in virtue of that second law 
 on which we saw it was constructed the law, viz., that 
 the Mind, being a harmonious structure, must balance 
 itself or go to wreck ; which is tantamount to saying that 
 satisfaction must somewhere be found for the cravings of 
 every faculty, impulse, and sentiment of our nature.
 
 MENTAL EFFECTS. 267 
 
 We have already seen that there must be some balance to 
 the ills of life ; and that its worries, crosses, and disap- 
 pointments would sting the mind into revolt, or precipitate 
 it into madness, were there no hope of reparation some- 
 where. Now, Religion is that bright star on which the 
 eye and heart are fixed, when all things earthly have 
 become hopeless and distracted. And just as the different 
 religions of the world give equal intellectual satisfaction to- 
 their devotees, by being equally adapted to their various 
 stages of culture, so they give equal satisfaction to men's 
 hearts and imaginations, by their exact adaptation to the 
 ideals and aspirations of the various peoples by whom 
 they have been embraced. The Valhalla of the Norsemen,, 
 for example, with its feastings, and trophies, and com- 
 panionships of the brave, was precisely what those rough 
 old warriors most aspired to in this world ; while to be sent 
 down to the Hell of cowards, was precisely what on earth 
 they would most have reprobated and feared. The sen- 
 suous Heaven of Mahomet, with its bright-eyed houris, 
 and its beautiful pleasure gardens, blooming like oases, 
 was the realization of the inmost desires of those wild 
 Arabs of the desert. In the Christian Heaven, too, pro- 
 vision has been made, with admirable foresight, for every 
 rank and order of devotee. There is the sensuous Heaven 
 of those who have not had enough of the good things of 
 this life, and who are promised reparation hereafter ; the 
 material Heaven of the worldly, with its rivers of gold, its- 
 gates of pearl, its streets of precious stones ; the refined 
 Heaven of the aesthete, with its music and art, its angels 
 with golden harps, and general intellectual dilettantism ; 
 the moral Heaven of the pure, the virtuous, and the good- 
 In a word, to each, according to his aspirations and 
 ideals, has been opened up a Heaven, which shall give 
 satisfaction to that insatiable hunger of the heart and 
 soul which nothing finite and earthly can allay, but which 
 can find satisfaction alone in those infinite vistas of 
 beatitude promised in the world to come.
 
 268 RELIGION. 
 
 Religion satisfies the heart and imagination, not only by 
 giving the souls of men an entrance into the highest life 
 which, in their stage of culture, they are capable of con- 
 ceiving or appreciating, but also by stilling that sense of 
 awe and uncertainty which we feel in the presence of a 
 Power who has created us, but has not been created by 
 us ; on whom we depend, but who does not depend on us. 
 The immensity and power of the great elements of earth, 
 .air, and sea, the capriciousness of fortune, the thin tenure 
 .under which we hold this mortal body, the insignificance 
 of man in the presence of that great Nature out of which 
 he has emerged and into which he hastens, all inspire the 
 mind with awe, with a sense of fear and insecurity, as if 
 things would hurt us unless we can succeed in winning 
 them over to ourselves, and converting their unknown 
 hostilities into friendship. Now, it is Religion, under its 
 different forms, that gives to the different races of men the 
 feeling of security and rest, in the midst of these unknown 
 .and untamed forces. It is the worship and honours paid 
 to ancestral spirits, which give the savage the necessary 
 feeling of security against those natural evils, which, in 
 the absence of scientific knowledge, he attributes to the 
 agency of evil spirits bent on doing him mischief. It was 
 the sacrifices of the Jews to Jehovah, the consent of the 
 Oracle among the Greeks, that gave the feeling of reliance 
 so essential to successful enterprise. It is the prayers of 
 the Christian, his fasts and penances, the assurance given 
 him, that, although for a season the wicked may flourish, 
 in the end the righteous will triumph, that gives him 
 that feeling of trust, which, in this confused whirlwind of 
 things, were otherwise denied him. I do not doubt what 
 may be alleged by Scientists, that each particular new law 
 <of Nature discovered and conformed to, would give us a 
 sense of security from one particular quarter; and that a 
 complete knowledge of these natural laws, and obedience 
 to them, would give us that complete security which 
 would render the old prayers, worship, and rites of religion
 
 MENTAL EFFECTS. 269- 
 
 unnecessary. But there is one thing which no knowledge 
 of the laws of Nature, however complete, can give us, and 
 that is the assurance that the great Web of Laws, which 
 make up the material and moral world, shall work 
 upwards to divine and diviner issues. What is there in 
 the Law of Evolution, for example, which can give us 
 guarantee that the inspiration and hope of humanity shall 
 be realized, and that Mankind shall ascend to higher and 
 higher stages of morality, and sympathy, and love ? 
 What is there in the Law of Evolution that would have 
 enabled us to predict that the bloody wranglings and 
 brute loves of apes would give rise to a higher order of 
 being Man rather than a lower, which would have been 
 more natural; or that the confused fighting, the un- 
 regulated passions, the brute force (all of which, when 
 indulged, should lead downwards and not upwards) of the 
 Savage Man, should give rise to the Civilized Man? W T hat 
 is there in the Law of Evolution that would have enabled 
 us to foresee that the Law of Might the struggle for 
 existence which prevails in the animal world, would work 
 itself up into the Law of Right, which prevails among man- 
 kind, and is the goal towards which the civilized races are 
 more and more approximating? In a word, what is there 
 in the Law of Evolution that would necessitate that out of 
 fierce despotisms should come forth liberty ; out of 
 slavery, freedom ; out of selfishness, unselfishness ; out of 
 might, right ; out of fear, reverence ; out of lust, love ; 
 out of the conflicts of self-interest, morality and virtue ? 
 There is nothing whatever in the Law of Evolution to 
 necessitate it ; on the contrary, all reason points the other 
 way. The fact that it has been so, can give us no 
 security for future advance in the scale of Being, except 
 on one condition, and that is, that we underpin the Law 
 of Evolution with Religion; that is to say, unless we 
 believe that things are under an intelligent Will, and are 
 so loaded from the first, that the Right will emerge, the 
 Good be forwarded, the True prevail, in spite of all
 
 2 7 o - RELIGION. 
 
 .accidents, possibilities, or stupidities whatever, animal or 
 human ; that, just as brute unconscious apes have mounted 
 up to man, and savage man up to civilized (the finer 
 qualities emerging in spite of all reason to the contrary), 
 so from the strife of passions, self-interests, and dollars, 
 the Divine will emerge (having been mysteriously slipped 
 in), and will appear in a future yet more glorious and 
 radiant with justice, sympathy, and love. Knowledge of 
 the Laws of Nature will, indeed, give us security so long as 
 we conform to and obey them ; but that such knowledge 
 can give us no assurance for the future, may be seen in the 
 fact that although the laws of Nature teach us from 
 what creature Man has sprung, they cannot throw the 
 least light on what kind of a being will come out of Man ; 
 and unless they can do this, how do we know whether 
 Man will become higher and more noble, or brutal and 
 more base ; in a word, what security have we for the 
 future progress of the world ? The truth is, it is Religion 
 alone that, by its conviction that the original atoms are so 
 loaded with Deity, so freighted with soul, so predestined 
 to divine issues (in spite of the number of base natures 
 frogs, serpents, apes, savages in which these atoms have 
 been incarnated by the way), gives us assurance and 
 guarantee that Humanity will, and must, rise to higher 
 and higher realms of being; a conviction so indispensable 
 to all great action, and which is the inspiration and solace 
 of every lofty spirit. It is Religion, too, and not the 
 Law of Evolution, that consoles us in the hour of defeat 
 with the conviction that, although the ills of life are 
 unavoidable (for unlimited desires can never be fully 
 satisfied in a limited and finite world), still, the plan is 
 right and beneficent, that all things work together for 
 Good, and that Time alone is needed to secure the 
 triumph of the Right. 
 
 Besides satisfying the heart, by opening up that infinite 
 horizon of hope that crimsons the dawn, Religion gives 
 basis and support, soul and reason, to those great ideas of
 
 MENTAL EFFECTS. 271 
 
 Duty and Right which otherwise could have no deep root 
 in the nature of man, and could claim no deep reverence 
 from him on their own account, however much outward 
 respect and deference he might feel it necessary to pay 
 them, as human expedients essential to the welfare of 
 society. It also gives meaning to that scale and hierarchy 
 of attributes which we are not only conscious of in our 
 own minds, but which we see also in the scale of qualities 
 in the animal world mounting from the worm up to man 
 qualities which otherwise were all of equal rank and 
 pretensions, and all worthy of equal homage. And thus 
 it gives halo and splendour to those high heroic attributes 
 of the mind, which otherwise would dull and tarnish ; and 
 life, pulsation, and heart, to a world which otherwise 
 would be a mere aggregate of meaningless powers and 
 forces. 
 
 Summing up, then, we may affirm that Religion gives 
 that harmony to our intellectual, moral, and emotional 
 nature, which is necessary to its balanced and harmonious 
 activity. It stills the unrest of the intellect, by giving to 
 each nation and people, according to its stage of culture, a 
 satisfactory explanation of the Cause and Origin of Things. 
 It satisfies the heart, imagination, and conscience, by opening 
 up a way for the realization of our aspirations and ideals, 
 and so giving an entrance to the soul into the highest life ; 
 by making us at home in a Universe, which, until its laws 
 are known, seems indifferent or hostile ; and by giving, 
 what the laws of Nature never can give, a reliance and 
 trust that the Right will triumph, the Good be forwarded, 
 and the True prevail ; and thereby communicates to the 
 Spirit of Man, hope, aspiration, courage, and the con- 
 viction that all goes well.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PRACTICAL RESULTS. 
 
 IN the last chapter I endeavoured to exhibit the positive- 
 effects of Religion on Human Life. These effects are true 
 alike of all religions, and can be verified at any time or in 
 any place ; and thus have that uniformity and universality 
 which characterize scientific truth. But, as the reader 
 will have observed, they are limited to the Mind to the 
 satisfying and harmonizing our moral and intellectual 
 nature, our imagination, conscience, and heart. In this 
 respect, however, the influence of Religion is full and 
 complete, and leaves nothing for the lesser interests of 
 life to fill in ; for when it is in harmony with the knowledge 
 and culture of a time, it includes within itself, art and 
 music, poetry and philosophy; all of which are lesser 
 circlets of harmony within that greater circle, and only 
 divorce themselves from it when it becomes superstitious 
 and retrograde. But the practical and all-important 
 question still remains to be answered what is the effect 
 of Religion on Action and Conduct ? Now, before we can 
 give a scientific answer to this question, many obscuring 
 complications will have to be removed, and to these, with 
 the reader's indulgence, I now propose briefly to address 
 myself. 
 
 The first difficulty, then, that arises to obscure the 
 relationship existing between Religion and Action is the
 
 PRACTICAL RESULTS. 273 
 
 different degrees in which Religion has affected action in 
 "the different stages of moral and intellectual culture, 
 through which the tribes, peoples, and nations of the 
 world have passed. We have already seen that, in the 
 early civilizations, and among the primitive races, the 
 natural causes of all but the most ordinary circumstances 
 were unknown ; and that, in consequence, men were bound 
 to believe that events were due to the agency of invisible 
 wills like their own, or deities. If the wills of deities, and 
 not natural powers, were thus believed to be the real 
 causes of events, it is evident, that the main occupation of 
 life must have consisted, as indeed we know it did, in 
 endeavouring so to act on these wills by means of prayers, 
 sacrifices, offerings, and other religious rites, as to attain 
 the effect desired ; instead of, as now, taking advantage of 
 natural powers to further our own ends as, for example, 
 in the planting and growing of corn, the building of houses 
 .and ships, the utilization of steam, electricity, and the 
 like. And furthermore, it followed, that when the oracles 
 .and priests, who held the keys of Heaven and were the 
 recognised exponents of the Divine Will, announced 
 either to individuals or peoples that a certain action or 
 enterprise was to be undertaken if they wished a certain 
 result to follow, the mandate was sure to be obeyed. And 
 thus it was, that among primitive races and in the early 
 stages of Civilization, Religion had a real and commanding 
 influence on Conduct and Action. As Civilization gradually 
 .advanced to the point where almost all the circumstances 
 of life were seen to be traceable to natural causes, men 
 began to attend more and more to these causes, and, 
 except on special occasions of great and unexpected 
 calamity, to care less and less (as at the present time), for 
 the wills of deities and the injunctions of priests. And 
 when the time shall arrive that all natural phenomena what- 
 ever will be seen to be due to natural causes alone, 
 Religion will and must cease to have any direct effect on 
 Practical Life, but will continue to be, what we have already 
 
 T
 
 274 RELIGION. 
 
 seen it to be, the sanctuary of the Intuitions, the victorious- 
 reconciler of Knowledge, Sentiment, and Desire ; and 
 prayer, instead of being a request for special favours, will 
 be merely the natural outpouring of the emotions in the 
 contemplation of that Great Power, from whose perpetual 
 presence flow the opulences of Nature and the harmonies 
 of created things. 
 
 In the next place, it is evident that, before we can 
 estimate rightly the effect of Religion on Action, we must 
 be assured that it is adapted to men's intellectual and 
 moral needs ; for, were it otherwise, it could not be 
 accepted with that inward conviction which alone can 
 affect our conduct or action, but at most would be out- 
 wardly and nominally professed. And hence, the first 
 complication that must be taken into account is the 
 great differences of intellectual culture and moral refine- 
 ment that exist in even the most advanced communities, 
 nominally professing one religion differences which would 
 necessitate as many different religions to meet them as 
 there are stages of culture. In London alone, for example, 
 before we could test the natural effect of Religion on 
 Action, we should require instead of one broad form 
 Christianity which is imposed indifferently on all, as 
 many different forms as there are distinct moral and 
 intellectual grades. For even assuming that all men 
 were alike in the keenness and sensibility of their religious 
 feelings, only a certain proportion of the population would 
 find the existing religion in harmony with its moral and 
 intellectual culture, and likely, therefore, so to interest or 
 excite them as to have any effect on their action or 
 conduct. Take, for example, the Whitechapel " rough," 
 with his delight in dog-fights and rat-matches, and his 
 belief that men like Tom Sayers are the highest types of 
 manhood is it not evident, that for him, and the numerous 
 class of youth that feel with him, the Christian religion is 
 much too refined a conception ; and that he would find 
 the Valhalla of the Norsemen much nearer his ideal,.
 
 PRACTICAL RESULTS. 275 
 
 much more congenial to his moral and intellectual nature, 
 than the Heaven of the peaceful, pious, and refined 
 Christian ? Much has been made, I am aware, of the 
 numerous ' conversions ' that have accrued to the Christian 
 religion from this class ; but many of them, I fear, are to be 
 attributed to the inducements held out by the lower side 
 of that religion, rather than to its higher and more refined 
 attractions. For, although the love of Christ, if opportunely 
 presented, and preached with sufficient fervour to reach 
 the imagination, will take hold of the lowest and most 
 obdurate natures, and, when it does so, is full and all- 
 sufficient in itself; still, the great majority of men are held 
 permanently to a religion, as to other things, by its staple 
 attractions, its steady-going comforts and consolations ; 
 and can be reached only by a religion which harmonizes 
 and is on a level with their moral and intellectual culture. 
 \Yhile some members of the community are thus below 
 the level of the prevailing religion, others, again, are above 
 it and beyond its influence. Many of the best heads and 
 hearts in the world of to-day, find the beliefs which 
 Christianity inculcates, and the rewards and punishments 
 which it dispenses, too crude and gross for their reason 
 and imagination, and so can be moved neither in mind nor 
 heart by its teachings. Bereaved in spirit, they sit, as if 
 paralysed, waiting for such form to arise in the future as 
 shall give them the harmony and satisfaction they require. 
 But, just as these classes are uninfluenced by Christianity, 
 so Christians are uninfluenced by those high and spiritual 
 forms to which the most advanced minds have ascended, 
 and in which they have found harmony and rest. It is 
 not, indeed, likely, that men whose hearts and imaginations 
 can be aroused only by the contemplation of a God who 
 has to be figured in human shape as palpable as if he were 
 their next-door neighbour, should be able to take the 
 slightest hold of a Power whose nature and attributes are 
 so refined and spiritual as to transcend, while including, 
 the limitations of humanity. What chance, indeed, is
 
 276 RELIGION. 
 
 there that men, who can be kept from sin only by brimstone 
 and the cry of fire, will be kept from it by the fear merely 
 of that descent in the scale of being which all evil action 
 entails ; or that men, who can be incited to virtue only by 
 the prospects of a future sensuous beatitude, will be 
 incited to it simply by that enlargement, elevation, and 
 expansion of mind which always attend on devotion to 
 the Good, the Beautiful, and the True ? Indeed, I have 
 known priests descend from their high vocation to play 
 the spiritual demagogue, and have heard them ask their 
 flocks, with a sneer, whether there was anything to lay hold 
 of in such impalpable, bloodless, and beatified conceptions 
 of God and moral retribution; and have seen them pause 
 as if silently waiting an apology from those who had dared 
 to be guilty of the more refined conception ! 
 
 Before, then, we can scientifically estimate the effect of 
 Religion on Action, we must allow for the large element, in 
 communities professing one religion, of persons who, from 
 intellectual and moral culture, are either above or below 
 its influence. But, even were Religion really accepted by 
 all those persons in a community by whom it is nominally 
 professed, we should still have to allow, in estimating its 
 effects on conduct, for the great diversity of temperament 
 and disposition through which it has to pass before it can 
 be translated into action. In this respect, indeed, it does 
 not differ from other agencies. How different, for example, 
 are the effects of the same piece of good news, the same 
 stroke of fortune, on the lymphatic and the nervous, the 
 sanguine and the melancholic, the grave and the light- 
 hearted. What incentive to action can be more universal 
 and omnipotent than the desire for wealth, and yet, how 
 differently it affects the conduct of the miser, and the 
 ordinary man of the world. It is the same, too, with 
 Religion. Although it is believed by two men with equal 
 sincerity and honesty, with the one, perhaps, through some 
 peculiarity of constitution, it gets no further than the 
 intellect and the imagination, where it hangs and revolves
 
 PRACTICAL RESULTS. 277 
 
 in dreamy perpetual delight, ever returning on itself, but 
 never affecting the life ; while, with the other, it frets the 
 soul like an imprisoned spirit until it has worked its way 
 out into conduct and action. 
 
 A still further complication which confuses our per- 
 ception of the effect of Religion on Action, is the influence 
 believed to be exerted over men's minds by the fear of 
 Hell and future retribution. And, without dwelling on the 
 fact that the popular idea of Hell, belonging as it does to 
 a stage of culture that is quickly passing away, is bound 
 to disappear from the pure Religion of the Future (although 
 the idea of natural compensation of punishment by the 
 loss of manhood inheres in the very genius and structure 
 of the world), a little reflection will satisfy us that the fear 
 of Hell is not a potent factor in human life, and has little 
 or no effect on conduct and action. It is true, that when 
 the last days of life are consciously drawing nigh as in 
 the case of criminals awaiting their execution, or of 
 persons sensible that they are being hurried away by a 
 mortal disease the fear of Hell must exercise a potent 
 influence over men's thought, and trie little of conduct 
 and action that may yet remain to them ; but in the health 
 and heyday vigour of life it has little or no influence. 
 For, just as death, although certain and inexorable, has, 
 as everyone can testify, little or no influence on healthy 
 human activity when life is in its prime, but is at most 
 an unpleasant possibility with which we can have no 
 practical concern, to be dismissed as soon as possible 
 when its dark shadows come over the mind ; so the idea 
 of Hell which, if more horrible, is not more certain than 
 death is robbed of its effect on action and conduct by 
 virtue of that Law of the Balances, whereby, as we 
 have seen, no idea that is horrible or painful can long 
 continue to dominate a healthy human mind, but must be 
 balanced or neutralised by such real or ideal considerations 
 as in each particular instance seem natural and just in 
 the instance of Hell, by the chances of our having time to
 
 278 RELIGION. 
 
 repent even if at the eleventh hour ; by the secret trust 
 that a life of fairly honest duty will not in the end be 
 dashed by the neglect of mere forms and observances ; 
 and the like. 
 
 If the fear of Hell has little or no direct influence on 
 Practical Life, neither, indeed, has the hope of Heaven. 
 As the reconciler, harmonizer, and comforter of the feelings 
 of the mind, when outraged by the inequalities of fortune 
 and the injustices of the world, the idea of Future Reward 
 plays, as we have seen, a most important, and, in certain 
 stages of culture, an indispensable part in human life; 
 but as a direct object of desire held out before the human 
 mind, as before a jaded beast, to lead it on, it is of little 
 or no avail. For, in spite of the beatitudes, and glories 
 indescribable, which the true and devout Christian believes 
 to be impatiently awaiting him, I have noticed, that when 
 illness brings him at last within the very shot and range 
 of his dreams, he betrays no special anxiety to depart, 
 but, on the contrary, exhibits rather a hankering desire 
 still to remain in this poor world, with all its troubles ; any 
 cheerful word of hope held out to him being taken as a 
 special comfort and consolation, and not, as might be 
 expected, a frustration and disappointment. The truth is, 
 in spite of the real and solid nature of Heaven and Hell to 
 men in the lower stages of culture, and in spite of the 
 asceticisms and mortifications with which these ideas 
 have been associated in history, no ideal, however fancy- 
 painted, can take hold of the hearts and imaginations of 
 healthy men or women like that great \vorld of human 
 aspiration and effort in which we live, and to which, after 
 all, our faculties and activities are adapted. 
 
 But there still remains a complication which, perhaps 
 more than any other, has obscured the just effect of 
 Religion on Action, and that is the splendid achievements 
 ascribed directly to Religion the wonders wrought by it 
 both on individuals and nations. The marked effect of 
 Religious Enthusiasm on the life and character of the
 
 PRACTICAL RESULTS. 
 
 279 
 
 individual while it lasts the inward peace and joy, the 
 love and self-sacrifice, the unselfish pursuit of souls, the 
 reformation in personal morals, habits, and associations 
 -as well as the miracles of achievement which nations have 
 performed under its influence the splendour of the 
 Mahommedan conquests, the fiery enthusiasm of the 
 Christian Crusades, the marvellous energy, heroism and 
 self-sacrifice that have characterised the rise, not only of 
 new religions as Buddhism, Mahommedanism, Christianity, 
 but also of new sects, as Puritanism, Methodism, and even 
 Mormonism have all contributed to produce a conviction 
 in men's minds of the preponderating influence of Religion 
 on human Conduct and Action over that of all other 
 agencies. Now, the fallacy in this appears to me to be 
 due to that want of the power of Detachment which, as I 
 have shown in an earlier chapter, is the cause of nearly all 
 the great illusions of the world, and which prevents men 
 from separating in thought, the feeling from the object 
 which calls it forth. For these wonders, which are believed 
 to be due to Religion, are evidently really due to 
 Enthusiasm ; and any object whatever, that can be so 
 presented as to rouse the enthusiasm of individuals or 
 nations, will have precisely the same influence over their 
 conduct and action. The Enthusiasm for Liberty, for 
 example, so intense in France at the time of the Revolu- 
 tion, stirred the nation to enterprises as great, and 
 individuals to personal sacrifices as sublime, as those which 
 .are ascribed to Religion. The Enthusiasm for Country, 
 too, has had the same effect, as seen in the great patriots 
 of the American and Italian revolutions; the Enthusiasm 
 for King, as in the English civil wars ; the Enthusiasm for 
 Humanity, as among the opponents of the slave power in 
 North America ; while the Enthusiasm of Love has worked 
 in individuals of every age and clime transformations as 
 great, and self-sacrifices as noble and heroic, as those of 
 Religion. 
 
 And now to pause for a moment, to sum up the
 
 28o RELIGION. 
 
 complications which we have just seen must be brushed 1 
 aside before we can get a direct insight into the effect of 
 Religion on Action. 
 
 In the first place, we have to bear in mind, that in the 
 early civilizations of the world, when supernatural Wills 
 were believed to be the real causes of events, Religion, 
 which alone could influence these supernatural Wills, had 
 supreme and controlling power over men's lives and 
 actions ; but that, as Science gradually referred more and 
 more of what were formerly attributed to supernatural- 
 Wills to the agency of natural Causes, Religion had less 
 and less influence over men's lives, and Science more and 
 more. Secondly, we must allow for the circumstance,, 
 that in highly organized communities like our own, many 
 persons who nominally profess the current religion, have 
 no real belief in it, owing to its being too high or too low 
 for their stage of intellectual and moral culture ; and 
 therefore we must, in estimating the influence of Religion, 
 leave their conduct and action out of account. Thirdly, 
 we must allow for the very different modes in which reli- 
 gions, like other beliefs, show themselves in action ; owing 
 to the great diversity of individual temperament and 
 disposition through which they have to pass. Fourthly, 
 we must be prepared to discount largely the popular 
 belief in the effect of Hell on men's conduct and action, 
 when we consider, that, even in the days when it was a 
 serious reality, it had, like death, little direct influence on 
 daily life, owing to the balances that were thrown out 
 against it ; obviously, therefore, now that it is greatly 
 discredited, it has little or none. And lastly, we must 
 eliminate from the problem those wondrous transforma- 
 tions of individual character, those marvels of natural 
 achievement which religious enthusiasm has wrought, and 
 which are popularly believed to be the effect of the 
 religion, instead of being, as we have seen, the effect of 
 the enthusiasm quite a different matter. 
 
 The leading misconceptions which obscure the effects
 
 PRACTICAL RESULTS. 2 8r 
 
 of Religion on Action being thus removed, we are now 
 sufficiently close to the main issue to grapple with it di- 
 rectly. From the drift of the foregoing pages, the reader 
 will doubtless have surmised that I regard Religion, in 
 its true sphere, as having no effect on Action ; and this, 
 with proper modifications, I am prepared to admit. For,, 
 although I have shown that, in early stages of culture, 
 Religion exercised a commanding influence over men's 
 conduct and action, still that influence was due rather to 
 its character as a Philosophy than as a Religion. When 
 supernatural wills were believed to be the real causes of 
 events, they, of course, influenced men's actions like other 
 natural causes ; that is to say, they influenced them as 
 Science or knowledge would, not as Religion. When men,, 
 for example, believed that the lightning was the expression 
 of the anger of a deity, they of course regarded that anger 
 as they would any other natural cause, and took such 
 means as they deemed most appropriate to avert it.. 
 W'hen they believed that Heaven would rain calamities on 
 them if they permitted heresy or false doctrine in their 
 midst, to avert these calamities they took what appeared 
 to them the most natural way of appeasing Heaven 
 persecution. It follows, therefore, that when supernatural 
 wills shall cease to be regarded any longer as real causes 
 of any event, Religion, as a positive agency, will cease to 
 have any direct effect on Action. To what, then, it will be 
 asked, are those effects on conduct and action to be 
 attributed, which were formerly attributed to Religion ? 
 In a former chapter, we saw that Justice was done in this 
 world by the pressure exerted over the individual con- 
 science by the general feelings of the community, rather 
 than by the force of the individual conscience itself. In 
 the same way, we may say, that men's actions and 
 conduct, in a positive sense what they will do, not what 
 they will refrain from doing are determined by those 
 ideals, aims, and ambitions, which are bred in a nation by 
 the necessities of its situation and surroundings, and which.
 
 282 RELIGION. 
 
 are imposed on its individual members. That these, and 
 not Religion, are the determining agencies in Conduct and 
 Action will be seen when we consider how impotent 
 Religion is when it has to run counter to them. War, 
 for example, has been bred from the necessities of the 
 circumstances and surroundings of the several European 
 States, since the break-up of the Roman Empire. And 
 although Christianity ran dead against it from the first, 
 nevertheless, the necessities of the tough world proved 
 too much for Religion ; and War accordingly remains with 
 us to this day ; the commander and military man being 
 held in the highest esteem. But, perhaps, no more 
 pregnant instance could be adduced of the impotence of 
 Religion, when it has to confront modes of conduct and 
 action bred from the circumstances of the world, than the 
 practice of Duelling, which, indeed, was closely associated 
 with the military regime, and, like it, was practised in the 
 very teeth of the Church. For, to have refused, on 
 Christian grounds, to fight, would have been, until recently, 
 to make oneself an outcast among those very Christians 
 whose principles it outraged. Again, the ambition of 
 each individual to acquire as much Wealth as possible for 
 himself, although running counter to the Christian ideal, 
 is a necessity, if the industries of the world are to be 
 worked to the utmost extent for the benefit of mankind ; 
 hence, the utter impotence of the Church when it preaches 
 against it. The Caste-institution, too, of feudal aristocracy 
 was a necessary result of the state of Europe after the 
 barbarian invasions ; and hence, in spite of the fact that 
 it ran counter to the genius of Christianity, it has 
 continued to flourish up to the present time, dominating 
 men's aims and ideals and admirations, and supported, 
 too, by the very Church whose fundamental principle 
 the native equality of souls it despises and ignores. We 
 might continue to multiply instances, but the above are 
 of sufficient pregnancy to prove that men's actions are 
 determined, not by Religion, but by that code of Public
 
 PRACTICAL RESULTS. 283 
 
 Opinion and Belief which is begotten of their circum- 
 stances and conditions. But is it possible to doubt, it 
 may be asked, that men have defied all earthly opinions 
 for the sake of their religion ? I do not doubt it, but 
 would remark only, that in these cases Religion has either 
 become with them an enthusiasm, as in the Crusades, 
 Puritanism, Monasticism, and the like, and so their 
 actions are to be set down to the effect of Enthusiasm, 
 rather than of Religion ; or it has become, as in the 
 antagonisms of sects, largely a matter of pride and other 
 worldly passions, engaging men's interests and activities as 
 any other worldly object might ; or else, it is only one 
 aspect of that general elevation and expansion of soul 
 which is the heritage of the few born in every age who 
 rise above the dull level of contemporary opinion 
 an elevation and expansion of soul which, disgusted with 
 the coarse ideals, the narrow conceptions, and the false 
 idolatries of the time, and demanding a more refined 
 and elevated conception in which to rest, inaugurates 
 new religions and ideals of life, new philosophies and 
 sciences, new forms of beauty and art, and so draws on 
 the torpid conservatism of the world to progress and 
 civilization. 
 
 To conclude, then, I may say that Religion, in its true 
 and final form, will have no effect on Action, but will be 
 restricted to giving that harmony and satisfaction to the 
 Intellectual, Moral, and Emotional sides of our nature, 
 which is necessary to their balanced and healthy activity.
 
 PART V.-GOVERNMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ARISTOCRACY PRELIMINARY. 
 
 THERE are many forms of Government and Social Organi- 
 zation among men ; but, in so far as they practically affect 
 the elevation and expansion of the individuals living under 
 them, they may all be reduced to two the Aristocratic 
 and the Democratic, the principle of inequality and the 
 principle of equality all Despotisms and Kingships being 
 included under Aristocracy ; and Socialism (which is only 
 a finer working-out of the idea of equality) under Demo- 
 cracy. In the present chapter I propose to trace the 
 effects of the Aristocratic Principle on mental and moral 
 expansion ; and, as these effects are nowhere better exem- 
 plified than in English social life, I shall endeavour so to 
 exhibit the characteristics of the particular aristocratic 
 organization under which we ourselves live, that the per- 
 manent and essential spirit of the aristocratic principle 
 itself may be clearly seen. 
 
 Before proceeding, however, I desire to make a few pre- 
 liminary observations, in order to avoid misapprehension. 
 
 In the first place, when I speak of the Aristocracy as 
 such, I must be understood to regard them, not as so 
 many independent units of every shade of disposition and 
 culture, but as a body, an institution, an order in the 
 State, the members of which are bound together by 
 common traditions, sympathies, and habits of thought..
 
 ARISTOCRACY PRELIMINARY. 285 
 
 In the next place, I shall assume that, like every other 
 institution, organization, or association, their attitude, as a 
 corporate body, to other classes in the State is one of 
 conscious or unconscious self-interest. Perhaps one of our 
 most amiable illusions is the idea that classes are governed 
 .by the same moral principles as individuals. We fondly 
 imagine that they will act with the same high and generous 
 .impulses which characterize their members in their private 
 capacities. No illusion is at once more seductive and 
 more fatal. Individuals, though raised to the purple, may 
 go back to the plough ; but classes, once possessed of 
 .power, never, without compulsion, relax their grip. In 
 private life, the rough edge of self-interest is tempered by 
 principle or affection, and selfishness is subordinated to 
 the influence of old associations, to love, honour, friend- 
 ship, admiration, or pity. In our personal relations with 
 our fellows, our whole being interacts and alternates ; and 
 the higher and nobler, as well as the more selfish, attributes 
 of our nature are called into free play and activity; -but 
 ' once we are grouped into circles, like circles we can touch 
 on only one point, that of self-interest. All organizations, 
 from the smallest and meanest, up to Church and Govern- 
 ment, have this as their vital and primary law. The 
 professions, the merchants, the tradesmen, the mechanics, 
 have each their esprit de corps, as against the rest of the 
 world. Even the Church of God becomes aggressive and 
 selfish the moment it becomes organized and established. 
 Do Churchmen and Dissenters love one another when 
 fighting for what are called their respective ' causes ? ' As 
 well expect the soldiers of opposing hosts to embrace each 
 other. Government itself, the hugest of all organiza- 
 tions, is as inexorable as the grave. All are stretched alike 
 on its Procrustean bed, without regard to the endless 
 extenuation of circumstances. It is a gigantic, unrelenting 
 machine; enforcing its decrees, collecting its taxes, and 
 upholding the letter of the law, without pity or remorse. 
 In the international relations, too, of war, diplomacy, or
 
 286 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 trade, where is the magnanimity, the honour, the high 
 morality, that are to be found between man and man ? 
 The truth is, there is a scale in moralities. International 
 morality stands at the lowest point that of pure and un- 
 disguised self-interest. Class morality stands next above it ; 
 for, although equally selfish in its instincts, it is restrained 
 by the law which is a kind of public conscience. Social 
 morality, or the relations that exist between man and man, 
 stands highest; although there is a higher flight to be 
 reached, which is as yet almost out of sight. The " Ten 
 Commandments" are a very crude code of morals for 
 modern civilization ; and the high virtues of magnanimity, 
 sincerity, and openness of mind, are not yet compulsory, 
 but have still to be embodied in the traditions of the race. 
 As the world at present goes, then, it is absurd to expect 
 that men, banded together for a particular object, will 
 exhibit in that capacity the finer amenities of the mind- 
 its graces, chivalries, and moral refinements. These can 
 only arise between individuals, and, as I shall endeavour 
 to show further on, between equals. And so it is with the 
 Aristocracy. Between them and their tenants, dependents, 
 and parasites, multitudinous influences combine to soften 
 the asperity of power ; but between them, as a body, and 
 the other classes in a community, the above considerations 
 will fully justify us in assuming that there is, and can be, 
 no tie but that of self-interest. The defection of any 
 exceptionally high-minded member from the common 
 interest, proves as little as the occasional marriage of one 
 of them with a domestic, and must not be permitted to 
 veil our sight for a moment. However great his prestige 
 and authority, his action is not representative, but is 
 merely that of a unit. Some of the leading families have, 
 in politics, allied themselves in the past with the party of 
 Progress, and at present even with the Radicals. Does 
 any one therefore believe that there is any real and vital 
 sympathy between the Aristocracy as a body and the party 
 of Progress?
 
 ARISTOCRACY PRELIMINARY. 287 
 
 I desire, furthermore, to explain that in my remarks on 
 the effects of Aristocracy on society, I shall speak of its 
 influence on the great masses of the population, rather 
 than on the few exceptional minds who in every class look 
 at life with a free and disengaged eye. On the great 
 masses of the poor and ignorant, because their elevation 
 and amelioration is the end of all government and legis- 
 lation, and the reward of all those who devote themselves 
 to the service of humanity. On the great masses of the 
 respectable, because only by reflecting their interests, sym- 
 pathies, and prejudices, can men hope to attain wide and 
 paramount influence and authority ; the great seminal 
 minds having little influence beyond the narrow circle of 
 the cultivated, and being regarded by the public as doctrin- 
 aires, a term synonymous with contempt. On the great 
 masses as a body, because their simple faith in symbols as 
 if they were serious realities, makes them the easy prey of 
 every species of superstition, and, by giving a factitious 
 greatness and authority to those who mirror their delusions, 
 indirectly perpetuates the evils which we seek to eradicate. 
 Here, for example, are a herd of idolaters prostrate before 
 an image. We perceive that they as sincerely believe 
 in its real and vital efficacy as, when boys, we believed in 
 our toys, games, and fairy tales. The priest is quite ready 
 to admit to you, who are a man of insight, that the fetisches 
 he has set up have a symbolical value only, not an intrinsic 
 one. But, by making himself the mouthpiece and exponent 
 of this superstition, he attains an influence in Church and 
 State which else were denied him. The scholastic subtle- 
 ties, which are to him alone of importance, and are the 
 very kernel and marrow of his thought, would otherwise 
 fall unresponsive on the empty air. Here, again, are a 
 vast herd of peasants, farmers, and country tradesmen, who 
 believe that the nobility are their natural and eternal 
 superiors, of different flesh and blood ; and that the fixed 
 strata in society is as much a piece of fate and nature as 
 the strata in the rocks. By virtue of this wide-spread
 
 .288 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 -superstition, the nobility retain their power and influence . 
 over society ; and without it, they, too, with their ranks and 
 pedigrees, their belief in the natural inequality of souls, 
 and in their own " right to do what they like with their 
 own," would collapse and vanish. 
 
 These illustrations show how important it is to dis- 
 tinguish between the opinions of the learned few the 
 literati, philosophers, men of science and economists 
 and the beliefs held by the great masses of the people. 
 While the former are busy exchanging those lofty thoughts 
 which foreshadow the history of the world, and which, 
 when concentrated and combined, will fall like vivifying 
 showers on the future generations, the latter, on some of 
 the most momentous questions of life, are still sunk in 
 that torpor in which they have lain since the dark ages. 
 And, in passing, it is interesting to remark that while the 
 ruling powers ignore the very existence of the thinkers, 
 and the leading organ of public opinion (abetting a too 
 aggressive Philistinism), asks, with a sneer, whether these 
 -doctrinaires imagine that, like the three tailors of Tooley 
 Street, they are settling the affairs of the world not an 
 uneasy publican can groan in his dreams, but it is heard 
 and noted, with awe and respect, by both Press and 
 Government, as a movement of 'public opinion; ' the nice 
 appreciation and estimate of its strength and volume being 
 regarded as the measure and index of ' practical states- 
 manship.' While the political beliefs of the body of the 
 people are thus faithfully reflected, those beliefs which it 
 is the object of this chapter to bring into prominence are 
 to be gathered neither from the Politicians nor the Press, 
 but by direct contact with the world itself. There we can 
 see the real and abiding sentiments of men, in so far as 
 they determine their actions or conduct; and can judge as 
 to how far political measures have gone in elevating their 
 lives. The Press is essentially a political medium, and 
 deals almost exclusively with material and economic con- 
 cerns ; and as the will of the people is now the supreme
 
 ARISTOCRACY PRELIMINARY. 289 
 
 law, its spirit is accordingly democratic, whatever may be 
 the political leanings of different journals. The Politician, 
 ioo, deals with the same material interests, and in his 
 public utterances is forced to keep out of sight all that is 
 not strictly economic, or to veil it under voluminous 
 clouds of cant and sophistry. For example, if the 
 question of the tenure of land arises, I observe that 
 learned members discuss it as if it turned entirely on the 
 .relative value to the community of large or small farms, 
 or the like the landed interest struggling fiercely to prove 
 the superiority of the former. And, indeed, we hear it 
 everywhere said that the difficulty is, not in finding land- 
 lords to sell, but in finding purchasers to buy, as men are 
 too sensible to invest in so unremunerative a commodity. 
 Whereas, if I go about among men, I find that, owing to 
 the dignity and influence attached to the ownership of 
 land, those who hold estates wish to buy more, and would 
 sooner starve than sell an acre of what they already 
 possess. Or again, if I read a leading article on the 
 House of Lords, I find the noble members of that body 
 spoken of as though they were of little more consequence 
 than so many old-clothes men ; whereas, if I go down into 
 the counties, I find them sitting majestically apart, like 
 Olympian deities, each on his separate peak. Or, on the 
 other hand, if I read a glowing eulogy on the public 
 appearance of some eminent representative of literature, 
 science, or the arts, I imagine his influence in society will 
 be commensurate with the prominence given to his 
 utterances or performance ; whereas, I shall probably 
 find that he is patronized by the nobility, considered of 
 little account by the vulgar, and his calling, whether 
 literary, artistic, or scientific, considered beneath the 
 dignity of persons of quality. So true is this, that in the 
 great works of fiction and these, after all, are the best 
 mirrors of the opinions, beliefs, and sentiments of the age 
 it is everywhere taken for granted, as a matter of course. 
 It has been remarked by a distinguished thinker,
 
 2 go GOVERNMENT. 
 
 that there is, at the bottom of every society, an Idea or 
 Principle, which animates the members of which it is 
 composed, as the mind animates and directs the move- 
 ments of the body. This Idea differs, of course, in different 
 times and places. In Sparta it was patriotism ; in Judea, 
 religion ; in France, at the time of the Revolution, equality. 
 And just as the spirit of a poem controls the selection of 
 sentiment and incident ; and the spirit of a legislative 
 measure its separate clauses ; so the Idea which is at the 
 root of any society dictates its code of morality, its aspi- 
 rations, sentiments, and habits of thought. In England, at 
 the present time, as in most of the ancient European 
 States, there are two ideas at work the mediaeval Feudal, 
 and the modern Democratic Idea. The play and inter- 
 action of these two principles determine the movements of 
 English life. Before, therefore, we can estimate aright 
 the part played by each, we must separate, as far as 
 possible, tneir respective spheres of activity. I rejoice to 
 have lived while the old tree of Feudalism, whose roots are 
 so swiftly decaying, but whose leaves are still fresh and 
 green, yet survives ; for it will be ere long as extinct as the 
 fossil remains of the primaeval world. It is interesting to 
 the Moralist, as a living illustration of how the spirit of 
 man, wnich, in our dreams, we fondly imagine to be 
 infinite and free, can be moulded into any shape, stamped 
 with any impress, and made to dance to any tune. It is 
 instructive, too, to the Statesman ; as furnishing, by com- 
 parison with that democratic state of society which in one 
 nation at least has been completely realized, that second 
 point of observation, which is as essential to the political 
 thinker as it is to the astronomer. A century or two ago, 
 Aristocracy was the paramount and all-pervading influence 
 in English life. Founded on material power as its basis, 
 with rank and birth as its flower and outcome, it set its 
 image and superscription on every department of thought 
 and activity on legislation, manners, morals, and culture. 
 But for ages there had been growing up alongside of it
 
 ARISTOCRACY PRELIMINARY. 291 
 
 another influence, which, though still overshadowed by it, 
 was waxing in strength year by year. This, too, was 
 founded on material power, viz., industry and commerce; 
 and, differing in interest and tradition from the aristocracy, 
 constituted the democratic element in modern society. It 
 became in time greater in combination, if not in con- 
 centration, than the aristocracy itself; and, after lying 
 latent and invisible for a while, made its appearance, after 
 the first Reform Bill, as an active power in the State. In 
 its conflict with the aristocracy, the rising democracy first 
 succeeded in winning for itself personal liberty. Many 
 ages had to come and go after the time that Gurth the 
 swine-herd wore the brass collar as bond-slave of Cedric 
 the Saxon, before the Habeas Corpus Act finally asserted 
 that no Englishman could be arbitrarily detained in prison 
 without being brought to a fair and speedy trial. Personal 
 liberty secure, the tide of democracy next set in the 
 direction of political enfranchisement ; and when, as will 
 soon be the case, the counties are put on an equality with 
 the boroughs, political liberty will be tolerably complete ; 
 and with it, the influence of Democracy on English life 
 practically ends. It has secured us personal liberty, so ' 
 that the haughtiest patrician must submit to be jostled in 
 the public streets like the meanest plebeian. It has secured 
 us a large measure of political freedom, so that the poorest 
 working-man, in all things else a cipher, without the least 
 influence on thought or culture, has to be flattered and 
 cajoled once, at least, at every turn of the election-wheel. 
 But in all that constitutes the higher life of man his 
 morals, sentiments, culture, and aspirations the country 
 is still dominated by aristocratic habits of thought. This 
 domination is, of course, not so glaring as it was formerly, 
 for every advance in democracy must modify, to a greater 
 or less degree, the prevailing spirit ; as a stone thrown into 
 a lake pulses, however imperceptibly, against its remotest 
 shores. But this avails little, so long as the ideal which 
 the nation sets before its youth remains practically the
 
 zgz GOVERNMENT. 
 
 same as before. For it cannot be too often repeated, that 
 just as the society which a man deliberately prefers is a 
 finer and more sensitive touchstone of his moral quality 
 than any particular action, so the ideal which a nation 
 follows is the most significant symptom of its health or 
 disease. It determines its aims, its aspirations, its desires, 
 its exertions. The Press speaks as if social prestige were 
 a mere bauble and sentiment, compared with political 
 power. Nothing can be more delusive. The mental and 
 moral characteristics of the class that is at the top of 
 society determine the mental and moral characteristics 
 of all the other classes ; and its code of morality 
 .becomes the national conscience. Though imposed at 
 first by force, it ends usually by being accepted from 
 conviction. Where the heart of a nation resides, 
 there will its people, like pilgrims and lovers, be found 
 wending their way. So powerful is sentiment ! It rules 
 our whole being ; making all the sordid moneys and vulgar 
 interests of the world its willing ministers. The aristo- 
 cracy, or land-owning class, having succeeded in keeping 
 themselves by power at the top, have accordingly become 
 the nation's ideal, and their moral and mental lineaments 
 the mirror in which it fashions itself. This ideal is the 
 nation's real religion ; and, like all religion, as you will 
 observe, is held with a mystic sanctity, a sacred reserve. 
 Though its influence is as pervasive as electricity, and as 
 sensitive as light, it is never mentioned in conversation ; 
 dissentients, like infidels, being afraid of the secret charge 
 of vulgarity and lowness of mind which attaches to them ; 
 the faithful, of the more odious imputation of toadyism. 
 I speak, as I have said, of the mass of respectable people ; 
 and are not the respectable people the nation ? Some 
 persons may make an ideal of literature, science, or the 
 arts, as others see a new era in Shakerism, spirit-rapping, 
 or the water-cure ; but the bulk of society is practically 
 untouched by any such heresy.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ARISTOCRACY- 
 MORAL AND SOCIAL EFFECTS. 
 
 AFTER the somewhat extended preliminary observations 
 of the last chapter, I am now in a position to consider the 
 special effects of the Aristocratic regime on the spiritual 
 and moral expansion of the individuals who live under it. 
 Its first and most baleful effect was to imbue the people 
 with a belief in the essential inequality of men. This was 
 not directly inculcated as a doctrine, but arose out of the 
 primordial relation between lord and serf, which consisted 
 in the minute and incessant exercise of power, on the one 
 hand, and the habit of submission, on the other. As the 
 nation grew, this relation worked itself into the minutest 
 fibres of social life; and the tendency in the human mind, 
 which De Toqueville remarked, of regarding our oppressors 
 as our superiors, became embodied among the traditional 
 beliefs of the people. I do not intend to enter again here 
 into the question of the equality or inequality of men, con- 
 sidered as an abstract proposition. I shall merely remark, 
 in passing, that the differences in men's capacities no more 
 destroy their mental and moral identity, than differences 
 in their bodily development destroy their physical identity : 
 and I should as soon expect to find new organs in their 
 bodies as new powers and faculties in their minds. I have 
 observed that it is generally the mediocrities, the men of 
 one idea, and those who are superior to their neighbours
 
 294 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 in some petty ingenuity or intellectual knack, who are the 
 greatest sticklers for inequality; for there is no talent so con- 
 temptible, but that the vanity or pride of its possessor would, 
 if he had the power, make it the ground of superiority to 
 the rest of mankind. So, likewise, are those who think 
 that fineness or elevation of mind is an affair of pedi- 
 gree ; who know that blood ' must tell ; ' and who believe 
 that new and higher capacities are to be induced in men, 
 as in dogs and horses, by the careful selection of breeds. 
 But the great men have most clearly perceived and most 
 strongly emphasized the essential likeness of all men ; the 
 small, superficial differences in power and degree fading 
 away before this grand moral and spiritual identity. It 
 would be absurd, indeed, to deny that immense inequalities 
 exist between man and man, in range, facility, and power. 
 We see men apparently all run to one organ men with 
 overgrown memories, improvisators, musical prodigies, 
 lightning calculators, and the like ; but these mental tuber- 
 osities are as much lost in a common humanity, as the 
 inequalities of the earth's surface are lost in its sphere. 
 The true sons of genius, even, are characterized and distin- 
 guished by a greater fineness and power of receptivity, 
 rather than by any new or exceptional faculty. But what 
 I desire especially to call attention to is the fact that, while 
 it is certain that men are as alike in their essential natures as 
 as they are different in degrees of power, there is a tendency 
 to consider those who are superior in degree, to be different 
 in their essential natures, and to be beings of another 
 order. The Roman Emperors were in many instances 
 addressed and worshipped as deities. The men whom we 
 considered great in our youth, we imagined to be of 
 different natures from ourselves, until by contact we found 
 them to be the same, or by culture, rose to their point of 
 view. And the preponderating weight and authority of 
 the great names of the past are, no doubt, partially due 
 to our belief that somehow or other they were different 
 to the men of our own time. These are natural ten-
 
 ARISTOCRACY MORAL AND SOCIAL EFFECTS 295 
 
 dencies, and can be corrected by experience, culture, 
 or reflection. But when inequality is made the basis 
 of a social structure, as it is in England, with birth and 
 title as its crowning distinctions, this tendency hardens 
 itself and becomes a concrete, consolidated fact. Then 
 begin the degradation of the human mind, the corruption 
 of the moral sense, and the reign of injustice. For, without 
 equality, respect degenerates into base servility, dignity into 
 cold-blooded pride or impudent self-assertion. Without 
 it, as I shall show, virtue is regarded as a commodity ; 
 morality, a question of social status ; talent, a more dextrous 
 or efficient tool ; genius, a more refined buffoonery, flattered 
 and despised. The man of title becomes the beau-ideal, 
 the great, the admirable, the flower of the race, the elect 
 of Heaven. Elevated as an exemplar for our imitation 
 and even worship, his patronage is regarded as the sweet 
 and sufficient solace for all the toilsome efforts of all the 
 great workers who have made England the envy of the 
 nations poets, inventors, philanthropists, men of science, 
 .and philosophers. This apotheosis of idleness and torpid 
 repose sinks into the souls of the people, and degrades, in 
 their estimation, those who are the real glory of the nation ; 
 for no man can serve two masters, or follow with equal 
 ardour two opposite ideals at once. With this anomalous 
 position of the really Great Men, it is not surprising that 
 the 'masses' themselves should be regarded as tools, chat- 
 tels, and property, rather than human beings with immortal 
 spirits. A copper firmament closes down on them, 
 smothering all expansion of mind and heart, and shutting 
 out their energies from all the higher planes of aspiration. 
 No broad and open thoroughfare opens out to them in 
 which they can walk, relying on their ability and character 
 as men: but every step is clogged, and artificial passports 
 are demanded at every turn. The few and uncertain vents, 
 hypothetically provided for their emergence from their lowly 
 estate, are practically closed to them by reason of impass- 
 ible currents of prejudice, and insurmountable barriers
 
 296 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 of caste. A base materialism prevails ; and men, instead' 
 of being regarded as temples of a Divine Presence, are- 
 regarded as so many cattle, with labels affixed to their 
 foreheads, and values written thereon ; so much for a lord 
 (a peculiarly choice breed), so much for a 'gentleman,' so- 
 much for a working-man. Between individuals so unequally 
 freighted and handicapped from birth, there is as little 
 chance of justice being done in this world, as between men 
 and the lower animals ; for there is no common social 
 measure to which their actions are referred. They may 
 be equal before the law ; but this deadly inequality, this 
 false and artificial halo of sentiment, which surrounds the 
 one and is shorn from the other, stupefies the higher con- 
 science, and renders the preaching of morality and duty, 
 let alone Christianity, a hypocrisy and a sham. For 
 whoever withholds from me, by reason of my birth or 
 occupation, the encouragement, sympathy, respect, and 
 approbation to which my character as a man entitles me, 
 denies me justice ; and, although the law may recover the- 
 gold that is filched from me, I am robbed of that which is 
 dearer than gold, and which it is the ultimate object of all 
 gold to buy. 
 
 Another direct result of the Aristocratic regime is" the 
 ignorance and degradation of the masses. A deep-rooted 
 aversion (compounded of pride and fear) to the education 
 of the people has always characterized aristocracies, and 
 inheres in their very nature. They have done all they 
 could, in every age, to prevent the intellectual elevation of 
 the people, and have succeeded in proportion to their power;- 
 from the despotism of the slave-owners in America, who- 
 made it penal to teach a slave to read or write, to the more 
 subtle and intangible despotism of the aristocracy in 
 England, who trained their dependents, as they did their 
 dogs and horses, to as much knowledge only as would 
 enable them to "do their duty in the sphere of life to which 
 God had called them." In this conspiracy to stifle the 
 aspirations of the human mind, they were abetted by a.
 
 ARISTOCRACY MORAL AND SOCIAL EFFECTS. 297 
 
 Church, linked and allied to the ruling powers, whose clergy,, 
 pledged to proclaim abroad the doctrine of their Master 
 the equality of souls have betrayed their sacred trust and 
 gone over to the enemy. By holding out to the lower 
 orders an ideal Heaven, where their miseries will be- 
 redressed, and their higher natures find that range and 
 expansion denied them in this world, they have confirmed 
 the evil which it was their mission to eradicate. They 
 have smothered at birth, in these weary-laden souls, the 
 bright and inborn aspirations of the mind its dignity,, 
 independence, and self-reliance and have left them to- 
 grovel in torpid despair. 
 
 These results follow the ascendancy of a privileged and 
 hereditary class, as surely as the waters follow the moon.. 
 They commence with it, advance as it advances, and decline 
 as it declines. No ingenious subtleties, no historical 
 pedantries, can show that they are the effects of this or 
 the other poor secondary cause. If the account I have 
 given is in any way overdrawn, the amelioration must be 
 placed to the credit of the swiftly-advancing Democracy, 
 but the balance may be charged to the principle of Aristo- 
 cracy. This will be at once evident if, leaving generalities 
 and descending to the details of social life, we contrast the 
 state of social morality that is engendered in democracies,, 
 and notably in America, by the equality of men, with that 
 which prevails in England under the aristocracy. 
 
 In democracies, no man need feel ashamed of his calling,, 
 for all work is alike honourable industry, trade, bodily 
 labour ; but, in England, the aristocracy as a body are 
 neither engaged in trade, industry, nor bodily labour, and 
 consequently (I say, advisedly, consequently), society has 
 agreed that persons following these pursuits are of an 
 inferior caste. So deeply has this feeling saturated the 
 souls of men, that for a respectable family to have one of 
 its members engaged in trade, is a fatal ' bar on its 
 escutcheon,' and any reference to it is as studiously 
 avoided in conversation, as if it were a moral leprosy..
 
 igS GOVERNMENT. 
 
 The tradesman himself, unable to resist this overwhelming 
 pressure of public opinion, meekly bows to it, and basely 
 accepts the livery of servility. The iron has entered his 
 soul ; and, like a fall from virtue in woman, farewell for ever 
 to all hope of dignity, erectness of mind, or magnanimity. 
 We need not feel surprised that trade is derogatory, 
 when we remember that even the Church of Christ itself 
 was barely respectable until the aristocracy embraced 
 it, having discovered how rich a pasture it offered to the 
 members of their own body. It is little more than 
 two centuries since, as Macaulay has shown, the great 
 body of the clergy were regarded as a superior order 
 of menials ; sufficiently happy if, at the houses of the 
 great, they were allowed to sit with the upper servants at 
 the lower end of the table. The only profession not con- 
 sidered derogatory to a gentleman of birth was the 
 profession of arms, and this, you will observe, was the 
 only one absolutely necessary to the existence of his 
 class. 
 
 If all work is alike honourable in democracies, all idle- 
 ness is equally ignoble, and is visited with marks both of 
 public and private disapprobation. But, in England, where 
 idleness is the Elysium of the aristocracy, the commercial 
 .activity of the nation, otherwise so essential to its well- 
 being, shows like a break-neck struggle, in whieh mer- 
 chants, shop-keepers, and publicans jostle each other in 
 their efforts to reach that goal of gentlemanly ease which 
 is the heritage of the well-born. In every age and country, 
 pride and the love of domination have been sweet to the 
 human heart. They abound in democracies as elsewhere, 
 but any manifestation of them is a disparagement ; and 
 has to be repressed, or veiled under soft and inoffensive 
 forms. But, in England, these passions have been the 
 traditionary prerogatives of the aristocracy from time im- 
 memorial; and, accordingly, in spite of the professional 
 exhortations of the clergy to humility, they are regarded 
 .by the people with admiration ; and their outward mani-
 
 ARISTOCRACY MORAL AND SOCIAL EFFECTS. 299 
 
 festation, either in word or expression, at once marks the 
 * gentleman.' 
 
 In democracies, a man who refuses to pay his just debts 
 is held dishonoured by society ; but, in England, the aristo- 
 cracy, from an early period, drew a convenient distinction 
 between debts of honour contracted originally, it must be 
 remembered, between members of their own body and 
 debts of other kinds, contracted with the herd of dependents 
 who surrounded them. Their religious scrupulousness in 
 regard to the former (so essential to their cohesion as a 
 body) was in striking contrast to their contemptuous dis- 
 regard of the latter. This distinction was, as usual, 
 accepted by society as the correct version of the moral law, 
 and, until very recently, the suspicion that a man was deeply 
 indebted to his tailor, raised a strong presumption in favour 
 of his gentility ; while its careless avowal gave him that 
 distingue air which characterizes those who have mixed in 
 the best society. 
 
 In democracies, where men are born free and equal, 
 Education is universal ; but with us, so deeply are the middle 
 classes imbued with the idea that the lower orders, as a 
 body, exist for their convenience and comfort, that from 
 them proceeded, as Professor Huxley remarked at the time, 
 the strongest opposition that the advocates of the Board 
 Schools had to encounter. They asked, with consternation, 
 Where are we to get our servants, if the people are to be 
 educated ? And, while boasting of the institutions of a 
 country which permitted a handful of their own number 
 to creep into the ranks of the aristocracy, did their utmost 
 to stay the hands of those philanthropic men who were 
 endeavouring to raise the heads of the people above the 
 slough of ignorance in which they were drowning. And 
 thus it is. Carrying into action the principles which we 
 have imbibed from the aristocracy, we, first of all, be it 
 observed, keep the people in ignorance, and then make 
 their ignorance a ground of exclusion ; we set the stamp of 
 flunkeyism on their foreheads, and then treat them as slaves;
 
 300 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 like libertines who, having first subdued and then debauched' 
 their victims, turn on them, on the first provocation, and 
 defame them as prostitutes. 
 
 In democracies, Society is based on the idea that men 
 take rank in public estimation according to their talents 
 and virtue. If the mediocrity finds himself in the highest 
 position, it is owing to the exigencies of party politics ; if 
 the charlatan creeps into the people's favour, it is because, 
 in the present state of civilization, the counterfeit is still 
 mistaken for the genuine ; if wealth is most sought after, it 
 is because, in an industrial age, it is, perhaps, the fairest 
 general index of energy, perseverance, judgment, and force 
 of character. But, in England, where the aristocracy, 
 according to Lord Beaconsfield, "do not read," men of 
 culture are regarded by the vulgar million with indifference, 
 or even with contempt. The literary men themselves, 
 having drunk of the polluted stream, have become infected; 
 and the Times, while speaking with respect of the return of 
 some well-fed alderman, has been known to thank God 
 when political thinkers of the highest eminence have been 
 rejected at the polls. In the most influential city in 
 America, the men of genius of the nation are also the 
 leaders in society; and men of wealth, to gain and main- 
 tain their footing, are obliged to keep themselves abreast 
 with the highest and latest literature, science, and 
 philosophy. But, in England, where the fox-hunting 
 squires take precedence, men of culture feel and accept 
 their inferiority ; and one of the literary guild, who has 
 seen much of his professional brethren, declares (perhaps 
 with some exaggeration) that while they are impudent to 
 the verge of insolence in their anonymous contributions 
 to the Press, they will grovel in private life before even a 
 curate, a sub-lieutenant, or briefless barrister. 
 
 In democracies, literary men are appointed to the highest 
 posts in the diplomatic service, and usually fill them with 
 honour and distinction ; but in England, where these 
 positions are reserved by the aristocracy for men of their
 
 ARISTOCRACY MORAL AND SOCIAL EFFECTS. 301 
 
 own order, the Press, which in this matter fairly repre- 
 sents the average public sentiment, dismisses the idea of 
 any such appointments as absurd, and quite beneath the 
 dignity of the nation. So true is it that whatever class of 
 persons a people places at the top of society will become 
 the ideal of that people ; and, in the long run, in my 
 opinion, will determine its rank in the scale of nations. 
 
 Even in its amusements, the nation follows the moral 
 dictum of the aristocracy as humbly as if it were the voice 
 of a Pope speaking ex cathedra. When the aristocracy 
 patronized the cock-pit and prize-ring, these sports were 
 considered innocent diversions ; when they ceased to do 
 so, they became positively immoral, and a mark of vul- 
 .garity and lowness of mind. But they still hunt their 
 foxes to the death, I observe, with the sympathy and 
 admiration of society; while, like attorneys conscious of a 
 weak cause, or sovereigns declining in their people's 
 favour, they divert the vulgar moralist by heading the 
 crusade against scientific vivisection. 
 
 In democracies, the virtue of woman is most jealously 
 .guarded, and any insult offered to it is most sternly avenged, 
 both by law and public opinion ; but, until very recently, 
 in England, the seduction of a seamstress or tradesman's 
 daughter by a man of fashion, was regarded by society as 
 a peccadillo, and even now is basely extenuated. One 
 still hears of persons who regard the relation as an honour 
 to the victim ; as one still meets with old-fashioned valets 
 who consider it an honour to be kicked by a gentleman of 
 birth. Some years ago, during a celebrated trial, one of 
 the witnesses, in reply to a question by the judge, said that 
 he considered the criminality of seduction depended on 
 the social status of the person seduced. Consider the 
 stench and pestilential miasma that must have arisen like 
 an exhalation from society, before so concentrated an 
 abomination could be precipitated in one small brain, 
 .and be held there as an article of faith. 
 
 And lastly, in democracies, all men are considered as
 
 3 oa GO VERNMENT. 
 
 spiritually and morally equal, in virtue of the deep identity 
 of nature that underlies and levels all the superficial 
 differences of sentiment, opinion, or culture ; but, in 
 England, rank and birth are, like Fate, supreme over all the 
 gods over intellect, over beauty, over virtue, over the soul 
 of man, over the laws of God himself. " Depend upon 
 it," said a French lady of the old regime, " God Almighty 
 thinks twice before He damns a person of quality." 
 
 These broad contrasts, owing to the pictures of society 
 which they suggest, exhibit more clearly than any exposition, 
 the spirit and tendency of Aristocracy, and its effects on 
 the national morality. And here it may be as well to pause 
 for a moment, to consider the two codes of morality which 
 these contrasts illustrate and bring into prominence. The 
 first code is founded on the deep intuition in the heart of 
 man that all men have equal rights, in virtue of a common 
 humanity. Its sphere of operation, accordingly, embraces 
 every tribe and nation, and is co-extensive with the human 
 race. Its precepts are embodied in what are called the 
 universal laws of justice the Ten Commandments, the 
 duty of doing to others as you would be done by, and the 
 Christian precept of loving and reverencing your neighbour. 
 The second code is founded on the more narrow and 
 superficial relations of classes of men lords and serfs, 
 masters and slaves, and the intermediate gradations of 
 rank that unite these extreme points. The one takes for 
 granted, as you will observe, the essential equality of man, 
 and therefore springs naturally and spontaneously in 
 democracies ; the other assumes his inequality, and is 
 therefore characteristic of aristocracies. The one it is the 
 end of Religion to sanction, to enforce, and to propagate ; 
 the other is in antagonism to Religion, and, as long as it 
 exists, is a standing obstacle to the reception of its 
 teachings. In England we have accepted the aristocratic 
 code of morals ; having stretched what was natural to a 
 small and privileged class, until it has become the conscience 
 of the nation, with the results which we have just seen..
 
 ARISTOCRACY MORAL AND SOCIAL EFFECTS. 30$ 
 
 I have not forgotten, of course, the countless influences- 
 everywhere at work which mitigate, in greater or less 
 degree, the pernicious moral effects of the aristocratic 
 regime. I only remark that, in so far as they do so, they 
 are democratic in spirit. The present state of society 
 is, as I have said, an amalgam of two principles the 
 democratic and the aristocratic. Any improvement in the 
 social morality of England to-day, over what it w r as fifty 
 years ago, is due solely to the extent to which society has 
 been interpenetrated with the democratic spirit, and not 
 to any tendency in aristocracy to ameliorate by time. 
 There are those, I am aware, who urge in justification and 
 defence of aristocracy the benefits which it conferred on 
 society and civilization during the Middle Ages, and who 
 ask you to admire the beautiful relation which existed 
 between lord and serf the lord giving protection and 
 guidance, the serf, in return, loyalty and obedience. Nowv 
 I am quite prepared to admit that, as a stage in the evo- 
 lution of European civilization, Feudalism was inevitable, 
 and that the reciprocal interchange of services between 
 lord and serf was not only beneficial, but was absolutely 
 necessary to the existence of society in those rude and 
 lawless ages ; but that the moral relation between lord and 
 serf was beautiful, is simply incredible. It is a dream of 
 the historians, a fond imagination of those who love to 
 idealize the past. Instead of regarding the serf with 
 the reverence which was due to him as a human being, 
 as a matter of fact the lord regarded him as little better 
 than a beast of the field. Individuals may requite the 
 loyalty and obedience of their inferiors with love and 
 affection, but, in every age and country, classes of men have 
 regarded their inferiors with secret or avowed disdain. 
 The reverence and obedience of the child may call forth 
 the love and affection of the parent ; the interest and 
 enthusiasm of the scholar, the esteem and gratitude of the 
 teacher; the devotion of the soldier, the sympathy, and 
 even tears, of the general ; but, while human nature
 
 3 o 4 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 remains as it is, the obedience of the slave^ as the 
 
 slightest provocation or ruffle of the blood will at once 
 
 make manifest can inspire the master with nothing but 
 
 contempt. The relation of superior and inferior, founded 
 
 -on power on the one hand and submission on the other, 
 
 is fatal to all moral grandeur and magnanimity. It is 
 
 when men are free and independent that they disclose the 
 
 > finest qualities of the mind and heart. Then it is that 
 
 love and reverence spring spontaneously, like flowers, and 
 
 -the infinite range and subtlety of affinity and personal 
 
 . attraction have free and unimpeded play. I have noticed 
 
 that lovers never afterwards exhibit to the same degree the 
 
 .beautiful iridescence of thought and fancy, the generous 
 
 .and lofty enthusiasm, as when, unshackled and free, they 
 
 approached each other like stars moving regally in their 
 
 respective spheres. But the knot once tied, and the one 
 
 as, alas ! too often happens become the mere appendage 
 
 of the other, then domination begins, and vulgarity, re- 
 
 -crimination, and brutal caprice .enter with all their train.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL ILLUSIONS. 
 
 IN the preceding chapter my object has been to exhibit 
 the effects of the principle of Aristocracy on the minds and 
 characters of men by contrasting it with the opposite prin- 
 ciple of Democracy; the conclusion arrived at being that, 
 while Aristocracy has a tendency to repress and degrade 
 the human spirit, to stifle its aspirations, and cramp its 
 expansion, Democracy, on the contrary, has a tendency to 
 enlarge, elevate, and ennoble it. In the following chapters 
 I desire to pursue the subject farther into detail ; and, in 
 order to bring the lights and shades more distinctly into 
 prominence, I propose to exhibit the reverse of the shield, 
 to show the dangers to which Democracy is liable, the 
 diseases to which it is subject, the spots by which it is 
 darkened or defaced, and afterwards to enquire how far 
 these are inherent in its very nature, and therefore are 
 irremediable and irremovable, and how far they are super- 
 ficial, temporary, or accidental merely, and so are amenable 
 to human reason and human control. Now, the evils 
 imputed to Democracy, and the dangers by which it is 
 threatened, may, perhaps, be most conveniently considered 
 under the ordinary divisions of Political, Social, and Moral 
 the dangers being mainly political, the evils and defects 
 social and moral. And as there would be little gained by 
 discussing the social and moral effects of a particular form 
 
 W
 
 3 o6 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 of government, unless we had good and sufficient grounds 
 for believing that that form of government contained within 
 itself the conditions essential to its own permanence and 
 stability, I have deemed it advisable to enquire into the poli- 
 tical dangers with which Democracy is threatened, before 
 considering the moral and social evils to which it gives rise. 
 Or, perhaps I should rather say, danger ; for to one danger 
 alone have History and Human Reason alike pointed as 
 that to which Democracy is most exposed the danger of 
 Despotism. That this, with the Anarchy that lies on the 
 highway to it, was the goal and grave of ancient demo- 
 cracies, if democracies they may be called, History is our 
 witness ; that it is the main danger to which modern 
 democracies are exposed, abundant and weighty con- 
 siderations have been adduced for believing. To the more 
 important of these considerations, accordingly, I now desire 
 to direct the reader's attention. But, before doing so, I 
 think it essential, as in the preceding chapter, to divest the 
 subject of one or two cardinal illusions by which it is 
 obscured ; and so, if possible, to exhibit clearly the real 
 issues involved. 
 
 The first illusion is one which has so long been traded 
 on by writers and public speakers, and has seemed so real 
 and substantial to the general public whom these address, 
 as to have passed into an axiom. It is interesting, not 
 only as an illustration of the want of that power of Detach- 
 ment on which in a previous chapter I have insisted so 
 strongly, but also of the uselessness, nay, the viciousness 
 of History for guidance, unless when sternly subordinated 
 to a controlling insight into the world of To-day. This 
 illusion consists, in a word, in the confounding of the real 
 and essential principle of Democracy with the various con- 
 crete and special examples of it that have existed or are 
 now existing in the world, and of arguing as if the two 
 things were identical ; with the result that the misfortunes 
 which befel the democracies of the ancient and mediaeval 
 worlds have been set down to the democratic principle
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL ILLUSIONS. 307 
 
 :itself, rather than to those necessities of time and place, 
 of circumstance and condition, which, as I shall now show, 
 'had nothing whatever to do with the principle, although 
 :they were for the time being associated and bound up 
 with it. We all know, for example, for how many gen- 
 erations the prosperity of the ancient republics of Greece 
 and Rome has been adduced in justification of the belief 
 .in the superiority of the democratic over all other forms of 
 ; government; or the fall that awaited them, on the other 
 hand, as warning against the corruption, the anarchy, and 
 the despotism which must overtake all governments con- 
 structed on that principle. And we know, too, how all 
 this has been and is considered, not only sound argument, 
 .but of infinitely greater weight and consequence than any 
 so-called theoretical considerations founded on a general 
 insight into the World and the nature of Man. And yet a 
 little reflection will show us how preposterous and futile 
 .are all such reasonings, how impotent are all such con- 
 clusions, for a just insight into the present and wise 
 guidance for the future. 
 
 The Republic of Rome, for example, was founded on 
 Slavery; and slavery, as is well known, was among the 
 great causes that led to its downfall, and that largely by 
 its effects on that tenure of land on which, in modern 
 times, we have seen the happiness, the stability, and the 
 prosperity of States so much depend. By enabling ex- 
 tensive tracts of country to be worked by slave-labour, 
 it led directly, and with a fatal sureness, to the expropria- 
 tion of the small proprietors, and the concentration of 
 almost the entire country in the hands of a few wealthy 
 .patricians. The result was, that the people, divorced from 
 the soil, and shut out from the avocations of modern life, 
 were driven for refuge into the city ; where, in the growing 
 material prosperity of the empire, with little to do to fill 
 up their time, and fed at the public expense, they rapidly 
 degenerated into a lazy and dissolute mob, and soon 
 became a source of grave political danger. Attaching
 
 3 o8 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 themselves in groups to the degraded retinue of haughty 
 and insolent patricians, and mingling as partisans in their 
 growing jealousies and dissensions, they first precipitated 
 the Civil War which brought the State to the verge of ruin,, 
 and then, becoming daily more hungry, besotted, and 
 debased, and with no cry but for 'bread and the circus/ 
 they at last put up the Empire periodically to auction,, 
 knocking it down to the highest bidder. So powerful a 
 factor was Slavery in the decline and fall of the Roman 
 Republic ! Even in our own day we have seen how com- 
 pletely the slave system in America differentiated the 
 people of the North from the people of the South, in 
 character, morality, modes of life, and habits of thought ;. 
 how nearly it wrecked the Union by the profound 
 antagonism of interest and sentiment which it engendered.. 
 And yet, what has Slavery to do with the principle of 
 Democracy ? Is it inherent in it, or essential to it ? And 
 if not, why, if Slavery so largely contributed to the down- 
 fall of the Roman Republic, should modern democracies,, 
 which have cast from them that curse, come to the same 
 end ? 
 
 Take, again, the democracies of Greece. To what was 
 the despotism, in which their brilliant and short-lived free- 
 dom was extinguished, due ? Was it not largely owing to- 
 the direct intervention of the whole body of the people in 
 every act of administration, in ever}' important and delicate 
 matter of domestic and foreign policy with the anarchy 
 the corruption attending it, and the liability, nay the 
 certainty, of all large and popular assemblies being swayed 
 hither and thither by gusts of passion, by envy, hatred,, 
 cupidity, vanity, jealousy, and revenge. And this inter- 
 ference of the People, again, in every act of administration,, 
 to what was it due ? Was it not the direct and inevitable 
 result of the small size of these democracies, whereby all 
 the people could attend in person to deliberate on State 
 affairs ? But what has the mere size of a State to do with 
 the principle of Democracy? If the Grecian commonwealths-
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL ILLUSIONS. 309 
 
 were small, modern commonwealths are mostly large ; and 
 public business, instead of being transacted by the people 
 themselves, in boisterous assemblies, is carried on by 
 representatives and delegates chosen by the people, and 
 sitting in solemn conclave. It is evident, then, that so far 
 as the mere size of a State carries within itself, as in Greece, 
 the seeds of its own good or evil fortune, there is no reason 
 why the large democracies of modern times should follow 
 the ruin of the small democracies of the ancient world. 
 
 The Republics of Greece and Rome, again, were both 
 warlike ; and both aspired to and attained imperial sway 
 over other States. That they were warlike was inevitable 
 in that age of the world, and was a necessity inherent in 
 their circumstance and position. At a time when boundaries 
 were uncertain, and prescription had not yet attained the 
 force of right, when the most civilized peoples were 
 crowding in around the sunny shores of the Mediterranean, 
 and, without the circle, the vast night of Barbarism lay dark 
 -and menacing, War was inevitable. And when, in the 
 constant flux of conquest, one after another of the empires 
 that arose went down before younger rivals, and at last 
 Rome attained to imperial sway over the civilized world, 
 the necessity of keeping the peace among so many hostile 
 and tributary peoples, and of protecting the provinces of 
 the Empire from rapacity and spoliation, together with 
 the impossibility of continuing to leave interests so vast 
 and complicated to the selfishness, cupidity, and unscrupu- 
 lousness of a small body of jealous and rapacious patricians, 
 necessitated the placing of the Supreme Power of the 
 State in a single despotic hand ; and, indeed, must in time 
 have compelled such a deposition of power had the 
 Rubicon never been crossed. But if ancient Republics 
 fell thus into despotism, because they were warlike and 
 imperial, is that any reason for believing that the same 
 -end must overtake modern democracies, which every day 
 .are becoming more peaceful and unaggressive ? 
 
 If we come down to modern times, and examine that
 
 3 io GOVERNMENT. 
 
 standing example of the anarchy and despotism to which 
 democracies are liable the French Republic, at the time 
 of the First Revolution we shall find that the reason it 
 relapsed so soon into despotism was, not because it was a 
 democracy, but from other accidental and quite extraneous 
 causes. It was the centralization of the government and 
 administration, which the old monarchy had for centuries 
 been engaged in consummating, that made the success of 
 the Revolution so easy; for, as soon as the Central Power 
 in Paris fell, as it has since so often done by barricades 
 and coup d'ctats, into the hands of the revolutionists, the 
 triumph of the Republic was assured and complete. But 
 it was this same centralization, continued by the Republic,, 
 that made it so easy for Buonaparte to lead back the- 
 nation into despotism, when war and the position of the 
 country solitary, in the midst of determined and im- 
 placable foes made it necessary again to concentrate 
 power in a_ single hand. How diiferent would it have 
 been had France, instead of being beset by enemies on 
 every hand, been situated like America, with no enemies, 
 no wars, no foreign policy, no imbroglios, to withdraw her 
 citizens from the paths of peaceful industry ; if, like 
 America, instead of her administration being centralized,, 
 it had been distributed among a large number of jealous 
 and high-spirited local authorities, leaving only just so- 
 much power to the central authorities as was necessary 
 for the general interests of the whole. 
 
 And thus it turns out, on examination, and when the 
 actual facts of History are detached from the illusory 
 phrases with which they have been covered and concealed,, 
 that the course and fate of those old Republics which have 
 forages been the bugbears of Political Thinkers, as well as 
 of Practical Politicians, and have been made to carry such 
 a heavy and responsible load of political consequence,, 
 were not due to the principle of Democracy at all ; but to- 
 such circumstances of time and place as we have seen 
 to such a relic of mingled caste-despotism and war as-
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL ILLUSIONS. 311 
 
 Slavery ; to such vicious forms of construction as the 
 participation of the whole body of the people in the 
 administration, on the one hand, or the concentration of 
 the administration (bred of despotism and leading again 
 to despotism), on the other; and finally, to the necessities 
 of War, which itself, again, is a necessity of Time and 
 Place of the age of the world, the diversity of interests, 
 the indeterminateness of boundaries, the animosities bred 
 of religious differences, and the like. 
 
 The second great illusion and bane of political specula- 
 tion is allied to the first ; but is even more extensively 
 diffused among all classes of men, and is of a much more 
 subtle and recondite character. It distorts and glosses 
 all our personal and individual life, but its most pernicious 
 effects are seen in the realms of Religion and Politics, 
 where, indeed, it adheres so closely to the facts which it 
 conceals and falsifies, as to be stripped from them with 
 the greatest difficulty. It springs from the neglect of the 
 element of Time ; and is seen in the belief that the same 
 object must always exhibit the same characteristics and 
 produce the same effects; not taking into consideration 
 how profoundly the essential genius and spirit of things is 
 affected by that unseen intellectual, moral, and social 
 atmosphere in which they work and live, in which they 
 are enveloped, and by which they are interpenetrated. 
 The youth, for example, in his pride of joyous life, with 
 hope and ambition burning before him like a pillar of fire, 
 shudders at the very thought of death, and feels that he 
 must always regard it with horror and aversion; not 
 perceiving that, as the fire burns low, and age and illness 
 dull his senses and enfeeble his powers, the functions of 
 the soul become all subdued and attuned to the contract- 
 ing compass of his hopes: and that, when death comes, it 
 comes not rapaciously, like the plucking of the young and 
 expanding fruit from the tenacious boughs, but softly, like 
 the gentle fall of the autumnal leaves from the aged and 
 drooping tree. It is this want of allowance for the
 
 3 i2 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 element of Time, that plays such havoc with men's 
 religious ideas. One of the most striking illustrations of 
 this is seen in the almost universal fallacy that because 
 Supernaturalism, in one form or another, has always 
 existed and played a definite part in the life of man, it will 
 always continue to exist. I have noticed that the many 
 estimable persons who bewail the wide spread of 
 Scepticism among the cultured classes at the present time, 
 comfort themselves with the assurance that this temper of 
 mind cannot last, but must pass away, as it has so often 
 done before. When they remember the universal scepti- 
 cism that lay, like the night, on the cultivated classes of the 
 Roman world just before the splendid dawn of Christianity, 
 and when they reflect that all down the course of modern 
 European history, this same scepticism has ever and anon 
 burst forth, like the opposite eruptions of revivalism, into 
 periods of marked and unwonted activity, they solace 
 themselves with the conviction that pure Religion (in 
 which, by the way, they include all those miracles, 
 incarnations, covenants, and ' schemes of salvation ' which 
 are so vital to the faith) will shine forth again in all its 
 ancient splendour, to warm, vivify, and expand the hearts 
 and souls of men. Now, the fallacy in this springs from 
 the neglect of the element of Time, Men are in the habit 
 of regarding the Past of the World as a succession of ages; 
 and finding the same supernatural phenomena, in one 
 form or another, repeated from age to age, they imagine 
 that these phenomena are part of the Universal Order, and 
 must always reappear while man continues to exist. But 
 the truth is, the Past of the W T orld is not to be regarded as 
 a succession of ages merely, but rather as a succession of 
 periods. And, as in Geology each period contains within 
 itself many ages of successive and allied forms of animals 
 and plants, so each period of the world's history contains 
 many ages of successive and allied forms of spiritual and 
 moral phenomena. But to imagine that because Super- 
 natural phenomena incarnations, revelations, interposi-
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL ILLUSIONS. 313 
 
 tions, and the like have reappeared in one form or another 
 throughout the successive ages of recorded history, they 
 will always continue to reappear, is as absurd as to 
 imagine that, because the same forms of Flora and Fauna 
 were repeated in endless variety through the whole 
 succession of ages that made up a particular geological 
 period, they will continue to be reproduced to all time. 
 Now, it may, I think, be fairly asserted, that the successive 
 ages of recorded history down to within living memory, 
 have been enveloped and interpenetrated by an atmosphere 
 of thought which we call the Theological ; that is to say, 
 an atmosphere in which Science was not yet believed to be 
 fully able to account for all phenomena, but where 
 Theological or Supernatural agencies were believed to be 
 necessary to eke out the interpretation of the more 
 obscure or extraordinary occurrences. And, accordingly, 
 as one might indeed have known a priori, during the 
 long succession of ages that went to make up this Theo- 
 logical Period, no sooner did one form of Supernaturalism 
 decay or disappear, than another sprung up to take its 
 place Fetischism, Hindooism, Brahminism, Buddhism, 
 Paganism, Judaism, Mahommedanism, Catholicism, Pro- 
 testantism. And, instead of being surprised, men would 
 have been disappointed if Theological explanations had 
 not been forthcoming to interpret all phenomena anyway 
 obscure; and if Theological Incarnations and Messiahs 
 had not been at hand to raise up hope among the down- 
 trodden nations, or 'restore the Kingdom' to conquered 
 peoples. But, at the present time, on the contrary, owing 
 to the immense strides taken by Science within the last 
 few years in the explanation and interpretation of the 
 phenomena of the World, men of culture have at last come 
 to believe in the accountability of all phenomena what- 
 -ever by natural laws alone; and Supernatural explanations, 
 interpositions, or incarnations, instead of being looked for 
 and believed in, become every day more and more dis- 
 credited ; those who come to announce them being more
 
 3 i4 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 and more suspected as impostors. And thus it is, that the 
 prevalence of Supernaturalism, with its revelations, incar- 
 nations, schemes of redemption, and miraculous inter- 
 positions generally, during the successive ages of the 
 Thelogical Period, and down almost to within living 
 memory, gives us no assurance whatever that it will 
 continue, now that the most enlightened sections of the 
 most advanced nations have fully entered into the 
 Scientific Period. On the contrary, one may confidently 
 anticipate that, among the increasing number of persons 
 who are daily becoming more and more imbued with the 
 spirit and the results of Scientific Thought, all that portion 
 of Religion which consists in Supernaturalism revela- 
 tions, incarnations, inspirations, miraculous interpositions, 
 and schemes of salvation must pass away; and that, as 
 Science spreads among the masses of the people, these 
 old Supernaturalisms will become one by one extinct, and 
 there will be for them no resurrection any more. 
 
 Akin to the illusion that Supernaturalism will always 
 continue to play an important part in the world, because it 
 has always hitherto done so, is the illusion that because 
 Morality has always rested on and been enforced by 
 religious sanctions, it must always continue to do so, or 
 will decline and die. Morality, it is argued, has its roots 
 in Religion ; and, when the roots are cut, the tree must needs 
 wither. But the truth is, that instead of Morality growing 
 out of Religion as its root, both Religion and Morality 
 have grown, independently of each other, out of a common 
 root, viz., the Material, Social, and Intellectual conditions 
 of the world. It is the same Public Opinion which, on its 
 intellectual side, gives rise, as we have seen, to men's- 
 religious creeds, that, on its material and social side, gives 
 rise to and enforces the code of morality and conduct 
 under which they live. And when Public Opinion, on its 
 intellectual side, becomes so advanced as to make religious 
 sanctions, revelations, rewards and punishments no longer 
 credible, and so deprives Morality of its supernatural
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL ILLUSIONS. 315, 
 
 supports, the same Public Opinion, on its material and 
 social sides, will become so stringent and severe as to fully 
 make up to Morality the support it has lost. In a word,, 
 as the Supernatural sanction relaxes, on the one hand, from 
 above, the sanction of Public Opinion tightens, on the other,, 
 from below. It is because this, the real origin of both 
 Religion and Morality, has not been understood, and the 
 essence of each has not been detached from the gross 
 associations with which it is bound up, that the question 
 is sunk in that mingled slough of superstition, illusion, and 
 uncertainty in which it lies to this day. So little power of 
 detachment, indeed, is there among the great masses of 
 men, in everything relating to the Spiritual World as distin- 
 guished from the Sensuous and Material, that they will be 
 found, at the end of a long life, lost in the most puerile 
 illusions. The Turk imagines that when the Mahom- 
 medanisrn which is his only sanction for morality, goes,, 
 morality will go with it ; the Christian (who thinks that 
 the Turk, poor devil, would get on all the better with his 
 morality, if his Mahommedanism were once well out of 
 the way) believes that when his miracles, schemes of 
 salvation, future punishments, and justification by faith 
 alone, become discredited, all morality must cease. Even 
 the Mormon, the Quaker, the Shaker, feels that morality 
 is bound up with his miserable and petty sectarian shibbo- 
 leth, and fights as blindly and desperately for the outermost 
 rag of dogma, in which he has enwrapped what he calls 
 his religious convictions, as if it were part of his very soul ; 
 not perceiving that it is the shadow cast by the existing 
 stage of his intellectual culture, the garment in which his 
 country, generation, or family, have clothed him a garment 
 which, when his intellectual stature waxes, will be thrown 
 aside without detriment to his soul, which will at once 
 proceed to weave for itself a new and more excellently- 
 fitting garb, in the place of that which it has outgrown. 
 Such illusions as these one may readily admit have a real 
 relative value for the time and place in which they are
 
 3 16 GO VERXMENT. 
 
 prevalent, but the object of Philosophy (which knows 
 nothing of Time and Place, and whose function it is to 
 overleap them) is to dissolve these fond illusions, these 
 pleasing enchantments, and, by detaching the soul and 
 essence of the things from the gross bodies in which they 
 are, for the time being, embedded and lodged, to give 
 them a winged life and immortality. For he who lives in 
 illusions, and is led by them, is the slave of Time and Place 
 and Circumstance, but he who sees their law and essence 
 is so far immortal, and can defy them. 
 
 The above are instances of the neglect of the element of 
 Time in the sphere of Religion ; and I have introduced 
 them in this place, although not strictly relevant, with the 
 object of making my point of view more apparent. But 
 it is in its bearing on Government and Politics, that the 
 profound influence of the different moral, social, and in- 
 tellectual atmospheres of different periods of time concerns 
 us here, and it is to this that I wish- to direct attention. 
 In a material and social atmosphere, in which War was 
 the main concern of men ; in an intellectual atmosphere, 
 in which the Theological interpretation of events satisfied 
 the mind ; and in a moral atmosphere, in which Theo- 
 logical interventions, Incarnations, and Deliverers were the 
 natural expectations of the heart, it is reasonable to 
 expect a different fate for democracies from that which 
 they might hope for in a time when peaceful Industry is 
 the main occupation of men's lives, when Scientific 
 -explanations are the only explanations that will satisfy 
 their minds, and Scientific judgments and predictions the 
 only foundation in which they will have confidence as 
 basis for action. When the general necessities of the 
 world, and the public opinion founded on these necessities, 
 made it incumbent on peoples to organise themselves on a 
 military basis, it was inevitable that Society and Govern- 
 ment should constitute themselves like an army, with one 
 individual, possessed of despotic power, at the top, and a 
 descending hierarchy of lesser despotisms to the bottom.
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL ILLUSIONS. 317 
 
 But when the world arrived at that stage when the 
 necessity for a warlike organization throughout no longer 
 existed, when War was the occasional exception, and 
 peaceful Industry the main concern of nations, the 
 necessity for placing despotic power in the hands of one 
 man, with its tendency to tyranny and repression, no 
 longer existed ; and democratic forms of government, as 
 giving more room for individual liberty, expansion, and 
 enlargement, had a greater chance of permanence and 
 stability. When the general state of public feeling, again,, 
 is one of expectation, and Prophets, Messiahs, and 
 Deliverers are eagerly looked for, it is evident that men 
 like Mahomet, or the present Mahdi, will have a greater 
 chance of founding a despotism and perpetuating it, than 
 they would have in an age or country where men had long 
 ceased to believe in any such Deliverers and Messiahs, or 
 the divine missions with which they professed to be 
 charged. The doctrine of the ' divine right of kings,' for 
 example, which is a mild and mitigated form of the more 
 general belief in Divine Incarnations, had a most potent 
 influence in restoring the Monarchy, and bringing to an 
 end the Commonwealth set up by Cromwell. Were the 
 Commonwealth re-established in our day, is it likely that 
 the belief in 'the divine right of Kings' would again restore 
 the Monarchy ? There was a time indeed, it is not yet 
 gone by when Religion consecrated Emperors, Kings, 
 Aristocracies, and Castes, and so enabled them to domi- 
 nate the souls as well as enslave the bodies of men. Is it 
 likely that this shall be much longer perpetuated, now 
 that Science has torn the illusion from such pretensions,, 
 has shown what a poor piece of imposture this pretended 
 difference in nature, due to differences of birth, to ' blue- 
 blood,' and the like, is; now that it has demonstrated the 
 native identity of the great masses of mankind of all 
 ranks, in mind as well as in body, and has saturated the 
 public with the belief in the equal right of all men to life,, 
 liberty, and the pursuit of happiness ?
 
 3 i8 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 From the above preliminary remarks, we may fairly 
 conclude that all general conclusions as to the fate of 
 modern democracies, drawn from the course and termina- 
 tion of democracies in other ages and other intellectual 
 ;and social periods of the world's history, are ridiculous, 
 illusory, and irrelevant; and may, once for all, be thrown 
 out to the stump orator, the demagogue, and the belated 
 'practical politican.' 
 
 But, although no arguments drawn from the fate of 
 .ancient democracies have any relevancy when applied to 
 the democracies of the present day, there are, neverthe- 
 less, certain dangers inherent in the structure of modern 
 democracies, and believed by many to be inseparable 
 from the very nature of Democracy itself; and to these 
 I now invite the reader's attention.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL DANGERS. 
 
 THE first danger, believed by many to be inherent in the 
 structure of democracies, and to which I desire to direct 
 the reader's attention, is the danger of Despotism, owing 
 to the absence of an independent Nobility to stand 
 between the People and the Central Power. 
 
 It has often been remarked, that, of all European States, 
 England is the one where personal and political liberty 
 have for the longest time been enjoyed, and where they 
 seem to rest on the most secure and solid foundation. 
 "While all those European States which are constructed 
 on the democratic principle, have time and again been 
 rocked and overturned by revolution, England, with her 
 mixed constitution, has weathered the storms of centuries, 
 and preserved her essential liberties throughout. And, as 
 ;a record of her history would seem to show that these 
 liberties, often threatened, have been, more than once, 
 saved by the intervention of a powerful and independent 
 hereditary Nobility, standing as a buffer between the Crown 
 and the People, and able at once to defend its own liber- 
 ties, and to protect those of the People when attempts 
 have been made to over-ride them, a political generaliza- 
 tion has been promulgated and widely accepted, to the 
 effect that Democracy, as a principle of Government, can 
 have no stability, but must fall into despotism, owing to
 
 3 2o GOVERNMENT. 
 
 the absence of this hereditary Nobility as a defence 
 against the encroachments of the Central Power. This 
 view not only finds favour with those who by interest,, 
 tradition, or personal taste dislike democracies almost as 
 much as despotism itself, but has commended itself to- 
 many able and disinterested Political Thinkers. But, as I 
 believe it to be at once shallow and pernicious, I shall 
 endeavour to show, not only that it is not the natural 
 function of Aristocracies to stand as a buffer between the 
 Crown and the People, but that in those rare and excep- 
 tional instances where, for special reasons, they have been 
 instrumental in preserving popular liberties, it has not 
 been because they were aristocracies, but for quite other 
 and independent reasons. 
 
 To begin with, it is incredible, on a priori grounds alone, 
 that an Aristocracy founded on land, and inheriting the 
 traditions of feudal times, should espouse the cause of 
 Peoples against that of Kings. Dependent on Kings for 
 their honours and dignities, and holding their titles, juris- 
 dictions, and possessions, only on condition of swearing 
 fealty to their lords, it is incredible that they should stand 
 apart from those to whom they are so intimately united 
 by every tie of interest, sympathy, tradition, and personal 
 relationship. It is true that, in times of disputed suc- 
 cession, the Aristocracy have in the past held in their 
 hands the power of making and unmaking Kings. It is 
 true, too, that when their own liberties, as well as those 
 of the People, have been endangered by ambitious or 
 unscrupulous rulers, they have been mainly instrumental 
 in deposing these rulers. But that their normal attitude has 
 been one of alliance with the Kings in keeping the People 
 in political and personal subjection, the pages of history 
 bear witness. For, although they turned our James IL. 
 off the throne when he became too high-handed and 
 despotic, it must not be forgotten that, as a body, they 
 sided with the attempts of Charles I. on the people's 
 liberties, and brought back the Stuarts after the death of
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL DANGERS. 321 
 
 Cromwell, to commence again that career of despotism 
 and shame, which continued until they were driven from 
 the land. 
 
 But if, in England, and under special and exceptional 
 circumstances, the Nobility, in entrenching themselves 
 against the encroachments of the Monarchy, have formed 
 a barrier -behind which the People also have protected 
 themselves, it has not been so in other countries. In 
 France, for example, before the First Revolution, the 
 Government was one vast centralization, and the King 
 was practically as despotic as was Louis XIV. himself. 
 The Aristocracy, although possessed of enormous legal 
 and social privileges, had no share in the Government, 
 and did not, and could not, mitigate in the least the 
 central despotism. On the contrary, protected by the 
 King in their social privileges and legal exemptions, they 
 abetted him in his oppression of the People, and when the 
 Monarchy fell they fell with it, more execrated than the 
 King himself. And just as the Republic that succeeded 
 the Monarchy, fell back again into despotism, not because 
 there was no Aristocracy, but because the administration 
 still remained completely centralized, so, too, England has 
 preserved her liberties through so many long centuries, 
 not because she had an independent hereditary Nobility, 
 but because the administration was thoroughly decentral- 
 ized. It was as the heads of the various local governments, 
 that the Aristocracy helped to preserve the liberties of 
 England, and not as an Aristocracy as such. From time 
 immemorial, the great land-owners of the different coun- 
 ties have had the local government of these counties in 
 their own hands, and for many ages they were supported 
 in their office by the allegiance of their vassals and tenants. 
 And although the King has always nominally appointed 
 to these high offices, the selection has really always been 
 made from the local nobility and gentry ; so that he could 
 only have centralized the entire Government of the coun- 
 try in his own hands, by stripping the Aristocracy of 
 
 x
 
 322 
 
 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 privileges and powers, which they had always enjoyed, 
 which they regarded as theirs by right, and of which they 
 were exceedingly jealous and tenacious. But if the 
 stability of English liberties has been owing, not to the 
 possession of an Aristocracy as such, but to a well-developed 
 system of Local Self-government, there is no reason why, in 
 the altered conditions of the present day, a democracy 
 constructed on the same general lines, should not be equally 
 stable. As a matter of fact, the constitution of the United 
 States of America is founded on the same general lines, 
 and has practically the same defences against tyranny. 
 The different States of the Union correspond to our 
 different counties ; the State legislatures (independent of 
 the Central Government in everything except the most 
 general concerns), to the old aristocratic rule in the 
 counties a rule, by the way, which, under the conditions 
 of feudal society, was the only one practicable or possible. 
 The sentiments in both cases, which make these local 
 governments real and effective centres of resistance to the 
 encroachments of the Central Government, although dif- 
 ferent in their natures, are alike in their strength and 
 tenacity. On the one hand, you have the blind and 
 unreasoning, though real and genuine, feeling of reverence, 
 loyalty, and adhesion to the Aristocracy as a body a 
 feeling now so sadly waning- on the other, you have the 
 high-spirited pride of a free and enlightened people a 
 people who have always managed their own affairs, and 
 who resent as -an insult the intrusion of any foreign or 
 outside interference. But it is questionable whether, at 
 any period of English history, the great Nobility of the 
 counties could have taken their vassals and dependents 
 with them against the Crown, to anything like the extent 
 to which the different States of the South took their 
 peoples at the time of the Civil War. So far, indeed, did 
 this go, that when a State declared that it went out of the 
 Union, the people went with it to a man, even those who 
 would gladly have averted the final rupture.
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL DANGERS. 323 
 
 And thus it would seem, when analyzed, that the real 
 defence of States against despotism lies, not in the existence 
 of an independent Aristocracy, as such, but in the existence 
 of local governing bodies as centres of resistance 
 whether it be the organization of counties around a Feudal 
 Aristocracy to whom the people are bound by a sponta- 
 neous hereditary loyalty and attachment, or the organiza- 
 tion of States around Local Legislatures chosen by the 
 people and representing their interests, sentiments, and 
 opinions. 
 
 It is urged, again, that in democracies, where the great 
 body of the people are all about alike in wealth, education, 
 and position; where society, in consequence, shows like a 
 vast undiversified plain, a vast aggregate of units, impos- 
 ing in the mass, but individually insignificant ; and where 
 there is no special class with sufficient prestige, authority, 
 and material resources to resist any wide-spread popular 
 movement, it is impossible to find a point of resistance 
 against the selfish or ambitious designs of the man who, 
 by his success in war, his public services or personal 
 prestige, has impressed himself on the popular imagina- 
 tion. That the history of Modern France, and more 
 especially the career of the Buonapartes, lends plausibility 
 to this view, no one, I think, can deny. But if we take 
 America as the most typical example of Modern Democracy, 
 .and her constitution as the best existing representative of 
 its essential spirit, we shall see, on comparing her with 
 France, how small is the danger to the democracies of 
 the future, from the side of despotism, and how real and 
 potent are the checks and influences already at work to 
 prevent it. At the time of the first Buonaparte, France 
 had just emerged from the despotism of centuries, the 
 masses of the people were sunk in ignorance, and their 
 sentiments and habits of thought were still imbued with 
 the traditions of the older regime ; at the time of the 
 second Buonaparte, their imaginations were still vaguely 
 filled with the memories of the brilliant career of the first
 
 324 
 
 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 Emperor and the glory he brought to France ; and irr 
 both cases the administration was completely centralized, 
 and the country surrounded on all hands by jealous 
 and watchful enemies. In America, on the contrary, 
 the people have been from the first high-spirited, 
 intelligent, and free ; they have inherited the traditions of 
 independence bound up with the origin and progress of 
 the Republic, and are imbued with a hatred of kings and 
 other outworn feudal forms, imbibed from parents 
 expatriated from their native lands. All this, working in 
 the minds of men in whose memories the sting of ancient 
 tyranny and social degradation still lingers, makes the 
 equality, freedom, and erectness of mind which they now 
 enjoy, a jewel beyond all price. In a word, all the habits, 
 interests, traditions, and sentiments of the great masses of 
 the people, all their pride, vanity, and self-love, are linked 
 to that democracy in which alone they feel they can walk 
 erect and independent, units of separate and individual 
 consequence ; no longer, as in the old lands from which 
 they came, to be lumped together as the miscellaneous and 
 indiscriminate herd. So strong, indeed, are these sentiments 
 that they would, of themselves, oppose a most obstinate 
 barrier to the advent and encroachments of despotism. 
 Not that despotisms have never crept in under a love of 
 liberty and equality as intense, and a hatred of tyranny as 
 strong. In Rome, the Emperors, who dared not assume 
 the hated title of king, were able, by the cheap expedient 
 of retaining the old republican offices and forms, but 
 centring them all in themselves, to inaugurate a tyranny 
 which became every day more harsh, grinding, and undis- 
 guised. But then, as we have seen, the Roman plebs had 
 become by that time a miserable rabble, whose souls could 
 be bought for a largess of corn ; while the patricians, who 
 ought, according to the modern opponents of Democracy, 
 to have been the bulwark of liberty, were, by reason of 
 their dissensions, jealousies, corruptions, and extortions, 
 the means of precipitating the despotism of the Empire.
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL DANGERS. 325 
 
 Besides, the necessity of the State was war ; her glory, the 
 extension of her dominion. Honour was bound up with 
 fighting, and not with the arts of peace. The spirit of the 
 age commended the soldier, the conqueror ; superstition 
 threw a divine halo around the head of the ruler, and 
 made his person sacred. The Administration was central- 
 ized, Local Self-government was unknown, and the People, 
 although having a veto on many important matters of 
 policy, had no initiative, and little or no share in the 
 administration. Under these circumstances, that Rome, 
 in spite of her hatred of kings and her love of republican 
 forms, should fall into despotism, was inevitable. 
 
 But America has other defences against despotism 
 besides her high spirit of freedom, her ardour for equality, 
 her equal arena for talent, her local self-government, her 
 immunity from war, her love of peaceful industry. She has 
 the power of Association a still more potent defence. It 
 is true, that the people, although powerful in the mass, are 
 insignificant as individuals, and cannot be expected to 
 make the same stand against the inroads of the ' one man 
 power' as the great nobility in old feudal countries. But, 
 by this power of Association, they can give to their united 
 wants and opinions the weight and momentum of a single 
 will. How potent a factor, indeed, this facility of associa- 
 tion may be where the individual is weak, can be seen 
 .among ourselves. In no country in Europe, perhaps, has 
 the ' individual working-man as little social, intellectual, 
 .and political power and importance as in England. And 
 yet, when he meets in monster associations to make his 
 opinions and wants heard, no section of the community 
 carries more political weight. 
 
 This power of Association, again, is vastly enhanced by 
 the increased facility of communication which the great 
 inventions of the steam-engine and telegraph have effected 
 in the present century; whereby the whole country is 
 converted into a vast auditorium in which the people can 
 be addressed as one man, and can be made to keep pace
 
 326 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 in open day with the secret and underground machina- 
 tions of the Central Power. 
 
 But, besides this power of Association as a defence 
 against the encroachments of despotism, the Americans 
 have the education and political insight necessary to- 
 make their aims and wants clear and definite, as well as 
 that energy, resource, and habit of doing things for them- 
 selves so necessary to give effect to their desires. How 
 fine is their political insight and sagacity may be seen in 
 the great political Constitution constructed and bequeathed 
 to them by their forefathers, with its splendid symmetry,, 
 and balanced and harmonious adjustment of its various 
 parts. How easily they can do what in old countries can 
 only be done by trained specialists, was seen in the great 
 Civil War, where they extemporized, and quickly brought 
 to a working perfection (to meet the sudden emergency), 
 commanders, officers, commissariat, and all the appur- 
 tenances of war, with little or no previous practical 
 experience^ And how entirely does this give the lie to 
 that poor and cheap illusion, bred of pride and prejudice,, 
 so prevalent among ourselves that only those born in the 
 official ranks can be safely entrusted with the manage- 
 ment of great affairs ; as if the average man of any class 
 was not as capable as the average man of any other, 
 provided only education and opportunity were afforded 
 him. \ 
 
 But, besides the above defences against despotism, 
 there is the great fact that, in America, the Legislator, the 
 Statesman, the Politician, is of much less importance and 
 consequence than in the old countries of Europe. Where 
 the people are all as a body intelligent, and know their 
 own interests better than anyone else can teach them, 
 Politics, as such, become relegated to inferior minds; and 
 the Politician takes an inferior position, as, indeed, in all 
 healthy states he must do, from the nature of his work, as- 
 dealing with the grosser, more obvious, and less subtle 
 elements of life income-tax, land question, factor}- acts,.
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL DANGERS. 327 
 
 cattle diseases, merchant shipping, scientific frontiers, and 
 the like. In countries like America, where there is no great 
 political question to call forth the best talent in the country ; 
 where there is no burning moral iniquity, like slavery, 
 to fire the nobler spirits ; where there is no aristocracy 
 monopolizing the great offices of state, and so making 
 politics an ideal and object of ambition as a ladder to 
 social position ; there is less temptation to the citizen to 
 attempt by a coup d'etat to filch the people's liberties. 
 The prize is not of sufficient value to induce men to risk 
 the dangers of the attempt; and as there is no standing 
 army, of any consequence, and the soldier is recruited- from 
 the citizen and brings with him the pride and traditions 
 of freedom, there is no instrument at hand that can be 
 depended on to execute these nefarious designs. Besides, 
 there is that general spirit of the age and time which 
 permeates men's ideas like an atmosphere, that ameliora- 
 tion of life and manners which would forbid the thought 
 in its inception, and which, as time goes on, must make 
 such designs more and more alien to the minds of men, 
 more foreign to their nature and inclinations. And lastly, 
 there is the steady advance of Democracy in all the civil- 
 ized nations of the world, the increasing sympathy with 
 its spirit, and reconciliation with its aims (if not with its 
 name), which, with every decade, must make the return to 
 despotism, among free peoples, a danger more and more 
 remote, and which must heap on anyone attempting to 
 establish it more and more execration. 
 
 But it is urged, again, that in democracies, where material 
 prosperity is the ideal of the great masses, and where 
 money-making is the most keen and absorbing pursuit, the 
 man at the head of affairs who will give the people the 
 largest opportunities for making money, and the strongest 
 security for keeping it when made, will have little difficult} 
 in wheedling them out of their political liberties. It is 
 argued, that, as each man is independent of all class ties, 
 and has his centre of action in himself alone, he will part
 
 328 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 willingly with political rights, which, after all, to him, are 
 merely abstract and of little value, if the only liberty which 
 he considers at all real and solid the liberty to make 
 money unimpeded is conceded to him in full measure. 
 Now, in the old feudal countries of Europe, where the 
 masses feel themselves shut out from all liberal pursuits, 
 where they are accustomed to be physically and morally 
 kicked from youth to age, and where they touch their hats 
 and take tips in token of their base degree, that men 
 should ask for nothing but to be allowed to grovel and 
 make money, I can well believe. But in democracies like 
 America, where men feel themselves born to the highest 
 positions to which their ability and character can carry 
 them, and where a personal indignity is resented as a stain, 
 that they should sell their birthrights for a mess of potage, 
 is incredible. For, in the old countries, the superincum- 
 bent weight of the upper classes of the social hierarchy so 
 presses on the classes at the bottom, that, both from 
 social exclusion and want of education, they feel them- 
 selves shut out from all great affairs and positions of 
 natural dignity, and are thrown back on money-making 
 as the only means of securing their own independence and 
 erectness of mind. But in America, the laws and customs 
 of the people give to each man, as a free gift, that natural 
 erectness and independence, which only the better classes 
 in aristocratic countries enjoy ; and the consequence is, 
 that money, although highly prized and hotly pursued for 
 its collateral advantages, for the comfort, consideration, 
 and power which it confers on its possessor, is not needed 
 for the main end, and would be sacrificed at once if that 
 were endangered. It is true, that when a State is threat- 
 ened by foes from without and within; and when, in 
 consequence, industry becomes paralysed, credit \veakened, 
 and men's material prosperity seriously endangered; a 
 despotism, which shall quell all faction, resist all foreign 
 aggression, and so give stability, confidence, and security 
 to life and prosperity, will, for a time, be gladly welcomed
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL DANGERS. 329 
 
 But then, the very existence and presence of such enemies 
 and factions only shows that the State is not as yet ripe 
 for an enduring democratic form of government. So 
 long as the French Republic had to contend against the 
 intrigues of factions within and the aggressive designs of 
 territory-absorbing foes without, so long would a Gambetta 
 have been omnipotent. So long as it is to the material 
 interest of the great body of the German people that the 
 German Empire should be united and strong, so long will 
 Bismarck be the repository of an almost absolute power 
 .a power which would be freely accorded him by the people 
 were it not already conferred by the sovereign. But to 
 imagine that either Bismarck, or Gambetta, or Napoleon, 
 were they dilated to twice their bulk, could continue to retain 
 absolute power in an industrial country undisturbed by 
 enemies without or factions within, and more especially 
 in an age when theories of ' divine right ' are quickly mould- 
 ering on their dusty shelves, is a dream of the doctrinaire. 
 For there is this immense difference between the form of 
 Government that best suits times of war, foreign or 
 domestic, and times of industry and peace in times of 
 war, the danger is common to all the citizens alike, their 
 interests, in consequence, are one, and the situation 
 demands that supreme power be placed in the hands of 
 one man ; in times of peace, on the contrary, and under 
 the present conditions of industry and commerce, with its 
 minute subdivision of labour, Society splits itself into a 
 natural antagonism of interests, strike it on which side 
 you please an antagonism between master and work- 
 man, employer and employed, town and country, manu- 
 facturers and agriculture, buyer and seller, those who 
 have and those who have not. And as Government exists 
 primarily to represent the material interests of men, the 
 form of Government required is one that shall reflect this 
 natural antagonism ; and this we see modern nations have 
 unconsciously felt and worked out in the institution and 
 organization of parties, each with its natural leader. It
 
 330 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 would be obviously impossible for any one man to represent 
 in his single person all interests at once, for in defending 
 the interests of one class of the people, he would be forfeit- 
 ing the support of the other. And even should he succeed, 
 by corruption, in getting the supreme power into his hands 
 for a time, the same self-interest and love of money, which, 
 by the hypothesis, led men to place him at the head of 
 affairs in the first instance, would soon be at work to 
 depose him again, unless, indeed, he kept himself in power 
 by an army, in which case he would have converted the 
 government into an armed despotism, a condition of 
 things becoming every day more and more impossible. 
 
 But, although democracies in modern times have less 
 and less reason to fear despotism from the encroachments 
 of the Central Government on local liberties, I must not 
 omit to mention, in passing, a danger which has recently 
 sprung up in America, and which is becoming to many 
 a source of grave anxiety I mean the danger to liberty 
 from the growing power gained by individuals over the 
 Central Government, by means of the Local Legislatures. 
 I have already said that the separate States of the Union 
 are independent of the Central Government in everything 
 except those most general concerns which affect the 
 interest of the country as a whole. But it so happens, 
 that the Local Legislatures of these separate States have 
 the appointment of the members who shall represent them 
 in the Senate of the United States. And as this Senate 
 shares with Congress and President the legislative and 
 executive powers of the country, it is evident, that any 
 person or body of persons who shall attain control over 
 the Local Legislatures of the several States, must indirectly 
 exercise great influence over the general Government of 
 the country. Now, this is precisely what has occurred. 
 A few Railway-Kings, as they are called, have succeeded in 
 getting into their own hands the control of the whole 
 vast railway system of the continent. And as these railways 
 are monopolies, and most of them run through several
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL DANGERS. 33 r 
 
 different States, the men who control them are able, by 
 bribery and corruption on the one hand, and by intimida- 
 tion and the playing off of one State against another (on 
 the old principle of ' divide et iinpera ') on the other, not 
 only to practically control the Local Legislatures, but to- 
 indirectly exercise a vast influence over the Central Govern- 
 ment itself, and thus to become a standing menace to> 
 liberty; so that, whereas the danger to democracies formerly 
 was the direct absorption of local rights and freedom by 
 the Central Power, the danger now is the indirect control 
 of the Central Power by a few individuals through the 
 medium of the Local Governments. And yet, although this 
 is a real detriment to the highest interest of States, and 
 has a most pernicious influence on public morals, it 
 cannot, I think, be really regarded as a serious political 
 danger. In the first place, these monopolies exist by the 
 consent of the People, and whatever power they may 
 exercise over the Local Legislatures is by the allowance and 
 indifference of the People. One breath of suspicion or 
 fear, one obstacle placed in the path of the Public Will,, 
 and the monopolists and their monopolies would be swept 
 into the night ; for it is incredible that a people which was 
 able to put down the armed power of the whole South 
 should be baffled or seriously disturbed by a handful of 
 individuals. 
 
 Another danger charged against democracies, is their 
 tendency to fall into anarchy, and thence into despotism, 
 through the weakness and want of firmness and steadiness 
 of the central Executive Power. It is quite conceivable 
 that the various sections of Public Opinion in any 
 country may be so nearly equal, and the different 
 interests, sentiments, and prejudices of the people so 
 antagonistic, as to render it impossible for any one section 
 to command a majority sufficient to inaugurate a firm and 
 consistent policy, or even, under certain circumstances, to- 
 keep the peace. One can easily imagine, that were the 
 affairs of the German Empire, for example, to be taken
 
 332 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 out of the hands of the Emperor and Chancellor, and 
 given over to the representatives of the People, the opposi- 
 tion of interests, ideas, and sentiments, between Church and 
 State, Catholic and Protestant, Socialist, Anarchist, and 
 Reactionary, would become so acute as to make govern- 
 ment impossible, except through hollow and transient 
 combinations among the various groups, without sincerity, 
 unity, or force ; and further, that were these groups so 
 nearly equal as to throw into the hands of the Socialists, 
 for example, the balance of power, the Executive would be 
 so weak, and its tenure so precarious, that Socialistic 
 disturbances, from want of power to deal with them 
 firmly, might become a serious menace to public order. 
 In France, too, one can easily imagine the Legitimists, 
 Orleanists, Buonapartists, Republicans, and Socialists, so 
 nearly balanced, as to make the Ministry formed from any 
 particular section powerless, and their following so fac- 
 tious and unscrupulous, that the slightest breath of 
 suspicion, the slightest menace of foreign aggression, 
 must necessitate a despotism. These are, of course, hypo- 
 thetical suppositions merely, but they are sufficiently 
 realisable to show that not all countries, as some doctrin- 
 aires seem to imagine, can be fitted with a democratic 
 constitution, but only those where the conditions are ripe 
 and favourable. They show, also, how difficult it is to 
 engraft a democratic form of Government on those old 
 feudal States, where so many of the old-world elements 
 Catholicism, Militaryism, Caste, Despotism, and the like 
 still mingle with the new elements of Science, Industry, 
 .and Peace. On the other hand, again, even in England, 
 it was most instructive and interesting to note how the 
 first soft approach of despotism was heralded by the 
 .cloture, when a handful of men, despairing of justice for 
 their country, and driven to desperation by the oppression 
 and extortions of centuries, took advantage of the ancient 
 .and honourable rules of a free assembly, to obstruct public 
 business and clog the wheels of government. And one
 
 DEMOCRACY POLITICAL DANGERS. 333; 
 
 might go farther and predict, that should such obstruction 
 be persisted in; and should the great landlords (brought 
 to bay by an attack all along the line on their dearest 
 interests and privileges), abet and assist in the work of 
 obstruction, still further pressure will have to be applied, 
 the cloture will have to be made more stringent ; and, in a 
 word, just so much despotism will have to be fastened on 
 the neck of liberty as will suffice to restrain its license, 
 and enable the government to surmount the obstacles 
 thrown in its way. We have all seen lately how the 
 outrages of a half-dozen secret dynamitards can subject 
 every traveller in England to worry and annoyance, and 
 put more or less restraint on his freedom. In truth,, 
 there is no Constitution in the world so free, but, by the 
 violence and unscrupulousness of faction, could, in 
 an incredibly short time, especially in the presence of 
 external danger, be wrecked and reduced to despotism. 
 Even in America, that sacred abode of freedom, the 
 exasperation of the Southern States on the question of 
 Slavery, and their determination not to submit that which 
 so profoundly affected their nearest interests, to the peace- 
 ful decision of constitutional majorities, not only threw 
 the country into that worst form of anarchy civil war 
 but, for the time being, put more power into the hands of 
 the President than has ever been entrusted to him before 
 or since. And had the South remained unconquered, and 
 the war become chronic, a real, if not nominal, despotism 
 must gradually have been established. But admitting 
 the tendency of democracies to anarchy except when 
 the conditions are propitious, the remedy, on the other 
 hand, becomes every day more available ; and consists in 
 the gradual amelioration of the material conditions of men, 
 the cessation of international jealousies and religious 
 fanaticisms, the fixedness of boundaries and States, the 
 settlement of disputed territories, and the gradual in- 
 auguration of the reign of Science, Industry, and the arts 
 of Peace.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DEMOCRACY THE DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 PERHAPS the most prevalent fear among the opponents of 
 Democracy is the fear of the Demagogue, with all the 
 obnoxious associations aroused by his name. Now, it 
 must be admitted that there is good reason for this 
 feeling, not only on account of the low general culture of 
 the masses, but also because of certain tendencies in the 
 nature of man himself. And although it is chiefly when 
 the great body of the people are admitted to a prepon- 
 derant power in the government of a country, that the 
 political, social, and intellectual illusions with which they 
 are saturated become a source of real political concern, 
 there is, nevertheless, at all times, more or less reason 
 for anxiety, owing to the liability of educated and illiterate 
 alike to certain illusions and false ideals which lie danger- 
 ously near the political arena, and which, like beauty in 
 man or woman, compel admiration and belief, even 
 after being over and over again convicted of inadequacy, 
 falsehood, and imposture. 
 
 Among these, the most deep-rooted, perennial, and 
 tenacious is the belief in the Orator, in the man of brilliant 
 and eloquent speech. It is part of the Law of Compen- 
 sation, perhaps, but, nevertheless, is none the less unfor- 
 tunate, that many of the deepest, most fertile, and most 
 penetrating Thinkers are, from some deficiency in the
 
 DEMOCRACY THE DEMAGOGUE. 335 
 
 media of conduction, some want of fluidity or spontaneity, 
 incapable of fluency or eloquence. They can never, in 
 consequence, reach the masses; their sphere is limited to 
 books ; and their power can be exercised only over solitary 
 individual students among the cultured and refined. But 
 when a man comes along who can reach the multitude, 
 who can set free the imprisoned feelings and half-conscious 
 beliefs of great assemblies, and by rich and brilliant speech 
 can give to these beliefs dignity, respectability, and expan- 
 sion, attaching the contracted and often selfish interests 
 and sentiments of his hearers to wider ranges of thought 
 and feeling, and so opening up to them distance and horizon, 
 there is no limit to the admiration which he inspires. This 
 admiration is, no doubt, both just and natural, but un- 
 happily it does not stop there; but, by an intellectual 
 illusion, goes on to a whole-souled belief and confidence in 
 the unlimited capacity of the orator in every department 
 of life. For it is one of the most insidious and unconscious, 
 but deep-rooted, illusions of the human mind, to ascribe a 
 fulness, roundness, and completeness of nature to those who 
 have touched our hearts and imaginations with admiration 
 and love ; to invest the whole figure with the symmetry and 
 proportion which has delighted us in the single member. 
 Unless, therefore, we are on our guard, we naturally believe 
 that the man who has so completely filled up our ideal, so 
 freely unlocked our imprisoned thoughts, and who so far 
 excels us at that particular angle where perhaps we are 
 most conscious of our own limitations, has a general and 
 all-round superiority of nature and powers. And yet 
 nothing can be more illusory or pernicious, for there is 
 little more reason in nature or in fact to expect from the 
 Orator intellectual capacity proportioned to his power of 
 speech, than to expect from the juggler or rope-dancer 
 intellectual power proportioned to his skill in his art. It 
 is owing to this illusion that we have the political and 
 pulpit orator bearing away the palm from the deep but 
 .speech-bound theologian and philosopher, and (as the
 
 33 6 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 poll is taken by a count of heads) exalted to a position- 
 of greater rank, influence, and authority. It is true that 
 this is not the case in Literature and Art, but there are 
 special reasons for their exemption. In the first place, 
 Society is not organized around Literature and Art as it is 
 around Government and Religion. Religion and Govern- 
 ment are the heart and core of Society, while Literature 
 and Art are its fringe and adornment merely. The status 
 and authority which, in Religion and Government, are given 
 by the great body of the people, are conferred in 
 Literature and Art by a small section of experts only. In 
 Literature and Art, only the cultivated classes have a voice 
 and are represented, in the court which sits on each man's 
 title to fame. The result is, that great authors, artists, and 
 musicians, although more or less caviare to the general,, 
 take rank largely according to their real deserts. But in 
 Politics and Religion, where the decision rests with men 
 who read their Bibles as if biblical criticism had no- 
 existence, and their newspapers as if laws of Political 
 Economy were unknown, and who rise from the perusal 
 thinking they can see into a millstone as far as another, 
 the Popular Preacher who embodies their delusions, and 
 the Political Orator who reflects their ignorance and 
 complacency, carry it over the heads of the great Divine, 
 and the wise and far-reaching Thinker. 
 
 Now, it is in democracies that the evils flowing from 
 this cardinal and wide-spread illusion are most apparent, 
 and the reign of the Demagogue is most to be apprehended. 
 In despotisms, where small Councils are entrusted with 
 the management of affairs, and where the People have no 
 share in the government, oratory, as such, is not required ; 
 attention is concentrated on public business, on the 
 wisdom and expediency of political designs, and the best 
 means of compassing them. The man most wanted, ac- 
 cordingly, is the man of insight, reliant, strong, and deter- 
 mined, gifted with tact, diplomacy, and fertility of resource ; 
 and such men were Richelieu and Mazarin. In aristo-
 
 DEMOCRACY THE DEMAGOGUE. 337 
 
 cratic and plutocratic governments, again, where the upper 
 and middle sections of the people are represented in large 
 constitutional assemblies, the power of speech begins to 
 make itself felt, but it is of a different order from that 
 most esteemed in pure democracies. It consists rather 
 in vigorous debating power than in eloquent harangues ; in 
 skilful arguments addressed to the reason and under- 
 standing ; in the rapid, brilliant, and forcible presentation 
 of facts and illustrations saturated in a medium of sarcasm, 
 invective, and refined personality, rather than in stirring 
 appeals to the sentiments and passions ; and in such an 
 assembly Cicero could find scope and appreciation for his 
 unrivalled powers, while the Roman Constitution still 
 remained intact and the Roman Senate still retained the 
 supreme direction of public affairs. So, too, Beaconsfield 
 retained his ascendancy in the aristocratic and plutocratic 
 assemblies of England. But, in full-blown democracies, 
 and especially where the People are to be reached through 
 large public assemblies, what is wanted is not so much 
 vigorous debating power and appeals to the reason, as 
 eloquent declamation, lively personalities, and appeals to 
 the interests, sentiments, and passions. If in despotisms 
 and in small secret cabinets, attention is concentrated on 
 the wisdom, feasibility, or practicability of the end in view, 
 and in the choice of means, instruments, and occasions 
 for attaining it ; in the popular assemblies of democracies, 
 the expediency of ends and the choice of means is more 
 or less ignored, and the interest is centred on the personal, 
 the sentimental, the ideal. What the People want to hear 
 is not the details of plans which they cannot comprehend ; 
 or of means and instruments of which they can have but 
 little knowledge ; but rather the motives, the intention, 
 the upshot of the business in hand, and the result, in so far 
 as it will effect their own feelings, interests, or passions. 
 They demand from the Orator that he shall discourse 
 to them on such issues, for example, as whether General 
 ^Gordon is to be left to his fate ; whether Englishmen are 
 
 z
 
 338 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 to allow themselves to be bullied on the Egyptian questionr 
 by frog-eating Frenchmen ; whether the hated Saxon is to- 
 continue to squat on Ireland for ever; how long the 
 people are to be defrauded of their rights by a ' bloated ' 
 aristocracy, and the like. And the man who, by his power 
 of speech, shall best embody the interests, passions, and 
 sentiments which are involved in such questions as these,, 
 and who shall give them the most varied, vigorous,, 
 passionate, and brilliant expression, is the man who of all 
 others will be borne to power by the democracy ; as was 
 the case with Mirabeau, Danton, and Robespierre in 1 
 France at the time of the Revolution ; with O'Connell in 
 Ireland, and Gambetta in France in recent years ; and 
 perhaps, to a certain extent, with Bright in England. 
 
 For some years I was in the habit of frequenting the 
 rooms of an old debating society in a central part of 
 London, with the view, if possible, of determining in a 
 scientific way the impressions made on a miscellaneous 
 audience by various forms of thought and speech. These 
 rooms were as well adapted for this purpose as any that 
 could be found, and furnished a mirror and epitome of 
 public opinion, not only by reason of the motley and ever- 
 changing character of the audience, but from the variety 
 of thought, culture, and style, of the various speakers. The- 
 society was an old one, and had held its debates night after 
 night from a period beyond living memory. The subjects 
 for discussion were usually the ordinary political and social 
 topics of the hour, varied, on rare occasions, by light 
 excursions into the region of religion, science, and philo- 
 sophy. All sides of the political world were fairly repre- 
 sented ; and if on one evening the Liberal, Radical, or 
 Irish element in the room preponderated, on another, 
 perhaps, the balance would incline to the High Tory or 
 Conservative side. No restraint was put on the free 
 expression of opinion, whether of applause or censure ; so 
 that the effect produced by the style, thought, or per- 
 sonality of the different speakers could be easily seen.
 
 DEMOCRACY THE DEMAGOGUE. 339 
 
 The audience, too, was well adapted for purposes of 
 observation, the circulation of fresh blood being con- 
 stantly kept up ; for, besides the old habitues who were a 
 kind of constant quantity in the room, every evening 
 brought in a fair contingent of casuals passers-by who 
 happened to read the subject of debate on the window 
 outside and were attracted by curiosity to see what was 
 going on, strangers from the country desirous merely of 
 passing away the evening, or foreigners from various 
 parts interested in politics and debate. The personnel of 
 the room, too, was sufficiently varied and picturesque. 
 Besides the ordinary Englishman of the middle class, who 
 formed perhaps the staple of the meeting, there were to 
 be seen in these rooms young barristers from the Temple, 
 glowing with political or professional ambition, and come 
 to cultivate the invaluable art of public speaking; hacks 
 of the Press, broken-down litterateurs, seedy Bohemians, 
 with their coats out at elbow, and driven to the wall by 
 dissipation, who had dropped in to end the day over their 
 pipes and punch, and who every now and then interrupted 
 the debate by their confused, incoherent, or maudlin 
 ejaculations ; superior Working-men, with hair thrown 
 back to bring out the intellect, who had gained praise and 
 distinction, perhaps, among their own class in some local 
 debating club in the suburbs, and who (although modestly 
 deprecating their want of classical education) evidently 
 rated themselves accordingly, and had come down to this 
 central hall to try their prowess with the old veterans of 
 debate. There, too, were to be seen Secularists of the 
 Bradlaugh type, fed on Volney's Ruitts of Empires and 
 Paine's Age of Reason, who, with affected moderation 
 of tone and studied reference to authorities, were prepared 
 to demonstrate against all comers that kings and priests 
 were the standing disgrace of the world, the long unmiti- 
 gated curse of every nation and every age ; brilliant young 
 adventurers from Ireland, fresh from college and without 
 any definite profession, who had come to London to push
 
 340 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 their fortunes, and were full of eloquence, fervour, and 
 bright ingenuity; faded old book- worms, moths of the 
 British Museum, who had come out quietly at night to 
 this well-lit hall from its dusky recesses, where for years 
 they had been collecting evidence to show that Julius 
 Caesar never existed, and that the ancient historians were 
 impudent and unblushing forgeries of the Middle Ages ; 
 all these were to be found here in this old hall on one or 
 other evening, in hot but genial debate, and, with suffused 
 and fiery-eyed demagogues screaming with excitement, 
 Fenians, Socialists, and Red Republicans, threatening the 
 general overturn of society without apology or disguise ; 
 old bachelors, city clerks, half-pay captains, High Church 
 curates, and occasionally some man well known in public 
 life, come down to open a debate on the stirring question 
 of the hour, made up as interesting and diversified an 
 assemblage of characters as could well have been brought 
 together. With an audience so varied, so shifting, and so 
 rapid-changing in its composition, with debate untram- 
 melled, and no restraint put upon a fair expression of 
 feeling or opinion whether of applause or censure, the 
 conditions needed for the observation of the effects of 
 different forms and types of eloquence were peculiarly 
 favourable. Nor, indeed, was the speaking less varied 
 than the character and composition of the audience ; but 
 ranged through all stages of the good, bad, and indifferent. 
 The most persistent and fatal type, perhaps, was the Bore 
 the old and well-seasoned bore with good matter 
 often, and sometimes ideas, but costive and speech-bound 
 in utterance, whom nothing could kill or repress, who 
 would wrestle with a platitude all night without remorse, 
 and whose rising, by the ingenuities of torture with which 
 it threatened the room, was the signal for a general stam- 
 pede. A common type, too, was the ambitious Tyro who 
 burned with some single idea, perhaps, which he could not 
 repress, but who had not learned the art so well known to 
 the old stagers, of making a single idea carry him with
 
 DEMOCRACY THE DEMAGOGUE. 34 t 
 
 credit through a whole speech ; and who, when he had 
 polished and condensed his one idea into some weighty 
 and audacious epigram (while the preceding speaker was 
 addressing the room), and at last found his opportunity, 
 rose and with rhetorical flourish fired it off with eclat and 
 satisfaction ; but having nothing further with which to 
 follow it up, was left standing speechless, and so becoming 
 confused, stammering, and, at last, hopelessly belated, sat 
 down overwhelmed with confusion and shame. Then 
 there was the Logic-chopper, with whom politics was a 
 chain of syllogisms, and who insisted on wire-drawing each 
 smallest platitude, and dividing it into its component 
 parts, although the whole argument was of so thin, patent, 
 and transparent a character that you could foresee his 
 point and have ample time to fall asleep, while he was 
 winding his dreary and monotonous way among the 
 successive links which he had interposed between his first 
 premiss and his ultimate conclusion. More tough and 
 irrepressible, if not more wearisome, were the Hobbyists 
 the Anti-vaccination, Anti-vivisection, but particularly the 
 Protection-hobbyist who traced the decadence of England 
 to her one-sided system of Free Trade, dragging it into 
 every debate, and winding up invariably with the un- 
 answerable poser, which he hurled as a Parthian shot at 
 his opponents, ' What is the use of your cheap loaf if you 
 have no Saturday night ? ' Of less frequent occurrence, 
 but coming as it were from some higher atmosphere down 
 to this worldly forum of debate, were to be seen the 
 Idealist, young, soft, and of consumptive aspect, to whom 
 this tough world offered no more difficulty for the con- 
 struction of his airy dreams than if it were cobweb ; the 
 confirmed and unbending Moralist, who saw no reason 
 why the millennium should not be realized now and here, 
 if men would but follow the dictates of simple morality, 
 and who would begin at once to inaugurate it by giving 
 back Gibraltar to Spain, India to its own native popula- 
 tion, and the blessings of 'home rule' and a 'constitution'
 
 342 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 to negroes, Zulus, Hottentots, and all the dwellers in the 
 Southern Seas. 
 
 The foregoing specimens, although typical and charac- 
 teristic, were, most of them, loose and irrelevant in de- 
 bate ; but there were others deep in political knowledge, 
 dangerous antagonists, who stuck to the subject in hand, 
 going into matters elaborately; who came down to the 
 rooms bristling with dry but pregnant and ugly statistics ; 
 men who knew the details of budgets, of exports and 
 imports, of income-tax and legacy-duty, with the minute- 
 ness of an under-secretary to the Treasury ; who could tell 
 you the price of the quartern-loaf for each of the forty 
 years preceding the repeal of the Corn Laws, and for 
 each of the forty years since ; who knew all about county 
 government, rotten ships, and especially rotten boroughs, 
 for which, indeed, they were prepared and armed with a 
 complete scheme of grouping, redistribution, or extinction. 
 Others again there were, whose memories were a complete 
 repertoire of all the parliamentary debates of the last quarter 
 of a century, men who knew what Lord Beaconsfield had 
 said at the Mansion House, or Lord Derby at Liverpool, 
 and who, instead of meeting their opponents by direct 
 arguments, pelted them indirectly with damaging phrases 
 that at one time or another had fallen from their Parlia- 
 mentary leaders ; rolling under their tongues as if they 
 were utterances of momentous import, such mystic and 
 sublime phrases as 'peace with honor,' 'scientific frontier,' 
 ' residuum,' ' whigs bathing,' ' mending and ending,' 
 ' plundering and blundering,' ' leaps and bounds,' ' extinct 
 volcanoes,' and the like. 
 
 Such were a few of the leading types of speakers, who 
 kept up the dreary hum and monotony of debate, and who, 
 although in many cases exhibiting, in spite of defective 
 utterance, genuine insight and common sense, made 
 little or no impression on the room. But, among the 
 casual or habitual frequenters, there were always to be 
 found one or more speakers of a different order, men who
 
 DEMOCRACY THE DEMAGOGUE. 343 
 
 '(although knowing little, perhaps, of the real difficulties of 
 practical politics, and less of political detail) could, by 
 their brilliancy of handling, carry the room away over the 
 heads of men of much more practical wisdom, business 
 knowledge, and insight into men and the world. Among 
 .all these, perhaps the most splendid and brilliant was a 
 young Irishman, who, for rapidity, copiousness, fertility of 
 analogy and picturesque metaphor, all playing around and 
 irradiating a clear and striking thread of fact and argument, 
 was unrivalled among the speakers of my time. During 
 the many nights that I sat in these rooms as a silent 
 listener, men of brilliant and various powers came and 
 went, but, through all the changes of audience, and in spite 
 of unpopular opinions on certain questions, no one made 
 so great an impression on the room. It mattered little 
 that his history was superficial, and his political knowledge 
 such as was picked up from the daily papers ; here, at any 
 rate, was the combination of qualities which most delighted 
 .and fascinated the imagination of the miscellaneous popular 
 mind. It was in vain that the old dryasdusts and book- 
 worms popped up every now and then to set him right on 
 a point of history ; or the statisticians interrupted him with 
 their figures and reports ; in vain, too, strangers rose to 
 contradict his account of foreign countries, or men of 
 business to show the impracticable nature of his schemes ; 
 .all opposition was swept away and forgotten, under a 
 brilliant, rapid, and mingled stream of fact and argument, 
 metaphor and illustration, picturesque personality, and 
 classical quotation. Indeed, I have often thought, when 
 I walked down to the House of Commons (as I some- 
 times did after one of these brilliant harangues), and 
 listened there to the pompous dulness of the ordinary 
 Cabinet official (selected most often for his supposed 
 possession of precisely this class of ability), or even to the 
 rhetorical efforts of the great fetishes of oratory and 
 debate, how real a descent there was in native spontaneity, 
 variety, and power; and when I have noticed the effect
 
 344 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 which the speeches of this young Irish orator invariably 
 produced on strangers happening to visit the rooms, of 
 every grade of education and culture, I have said to myself, 
 here is the combination of qualities which the Democracy, 
 if it had its way, and had to choose for itself by individual 
 ballot, would select as its ideal, and elevate to the supreme 
 place. Rapidity, copiousness, audacity, fertility of meta- 
 phor and invective, and power of personal characterization ; 
 these are the attributes by which the mingled mass of men, 
 educated and uneducated alike, are most enchanted and 
 carried away, and which, more than all other character- 
 istics, impress them with the idea of vague and general 
 intellectual superiority. Indeed, so clearly did I perceive,, 
 after watching these debates over a long period of time, 
 that these were the qualities which the Democracy, when 
 full-blown, would most delight to honour, that on the recent 
 appearance on the political horizon of a new meteor, I 
 ventured to predict that in no long time he would rise to- 
 a commanding position in the government of the country,, 
 in spite of the ridicule with which he was for a time 
 greeted by the graver politicians and journalists. And so 
 far has this prediction been realised, that at no distant 
 date we are threatened with the affairs of this Empire 
 being handed over to the partial control of one possessed 
 of as little political insight and real grasp of political 
 problems as the most irresponsible tyro of debate, of one, 
 indeed, the only reason for whose prominence in the 
 public mind, lies in the possession of qualities of the same 
 essential order, but, as I can testify, of less brilliancy, 
 variety, and power, than many a second-rate stager in 
 those old discussion-rooms. 
 
 If these, then, are the qualities which, vigorously and 
 unscrupulously pushed, lead to political position and 
 power ; and if Statesmanship, on the other hand, implies 
 insight into the effects of legislation on the moral, social, 
 and intellectual concerns of a people, and the power of 
 constructing wise and far-seeing measures which will
 
 DEMOCRACY THE DEMAGOGUE. 345; 
 
 work with the least friction and injustice ; the fear of the 
 Demagogue in democracies, which we have seen to be so 
 prevalent, would almost seem to be justified. But the 
 real truth is, that what is called Statesmanship in demo- 
 cracies does not imply any such high qualities as we 
 imagine. On the contrary, Party Politics being the order 
 of the day, and the disputes and conflicts of classes and 
 interests being settled, not, as formerly, by the sword on 
 the battle-field, but by wordy warfare in peaceful 
 constitutional assemblies ; the man who, by rapier-like 
 sharpness, swiftness, and precision of tongue shall do- 
 most execution on the enemy, is the man most required 
 by the party in opposition, and, in consequence, must 
 become the constructive Statesman when that party 
 comes into power. Nor is the want of technical know- 
 ledge and experience of the various governmental depart- 
 ments any great bar, as might be supposed ; for it is 
 generally understood that there are always underlings 
 enough permanent under-secretaries and the like who 
 will supply the requisite information, besides the command 
 which a government always has of the opinions of the 
 best men in every department, of law, medicine, war, 
 science, and art. If, then, as is generally admitted, 
 Ministers must from now onwards carry out the popular 
 will, what is wanted is not so much men with special 
 knowledge of the various departments, as men that shall 
 concentrate and give to the will of the nation or party, 
 force, expression, and embodiment ; and for this the 
 Demagogue is perhaps as well fitted as another. We are 
 too apt to exaggerate the amount of special knowledge 
 that is required in a Statesman. In France, men pass at 
 once from their solitary study to take a great portfolio of 
 State ; and succeed as well, perhaps, if not better, than 
 the old hacks of routine. In America, too, the members 
 of the Congress, and even of the Senate, are mostly men 
 whose knowledge of public affairs has been gathered from 
 the newspapers, or from their business experience and
 
 34 6 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 general knowledge of the world. And in England it 
 would, indeed, require an excess of superstition to believe 
 that knowledge of special departments is necessary in the 
 holders of great offices of State, when we see men who 
 must have a place in the Cabinet solely because of their 
 territorial influence, their oratorical power, or their 
 power in debate, pitchforked, as it were, from the India 
 Office to the War Office, from the War Office to the 
 Admiralty, Home, or Foreign Office, and back again, 
 without the slightest previous experience of these various 
 departments. 
 
 We have spoken of the fear there is of the masses 
 choosing the Demagogue, but that it is not only the 
 masses who would choose the Demagogue, may be seen in 
 the present attitude of the Aristocracy and land-owning 
 class in this country. At one time indeed, until quite 
 recently the leaders of the great parties in the State were 
 drawn from the same class, and represented the same 
 general interests ; and as the differences between them 
 could only be more or less superficial, a tone of mutual 
 and habitual courtesy w r as at all times observable. But 
 now that other classes have risen to power, and the 
 material interests of the aristocracy, and even their 
 political and social privileges, are being threatened, 
 and measures are carried which touch their dearest 
 sentiments, the fine old tone of courtesy is lost, and 
 precisely those same arts of the Demagogue are snatched 
 at and made use of to damage their opponents, as are 
 used by their opponents to damage them. 
 
 If it be said that the function of a Government is by 
 wise initiative to educate the people to higher conceptions 
 of political affairs, I would reply that, not only is this not 
 the function of a Government (being really the office of the 
 great Political Thinkers and Publicists of Literature and the 
 Press), but that, in fact, governments do not pretend to 
 it, but rather wait, before deciding on a policy by which 
 to steer, until they hear the shouting from the shore
 
 DEMOCRACY THE DEMAGOGUE. 347 
 
 through the daily, weekly, and monthly organs of opinion. 
 So long, indeed, as Party Government exists, knowing the 
 illusions by which men are led, we may safely predict the 
 -existence and continued influence of the Demagogue, 
 coarse or refined ; in the same way as, so long as the 
 people are ignorant, we may predict the continued 
 prosperity of the quack. I should as soon, indeed, expect 
 to find those solemn persons who flock, Bible in hand, to 
 church on Sunday mornings to hear the poor platitudes 
 that fall from the Pulpit Orator, selecting as their guide 
 in the conduct of life the great Spiritual Thinkers, 
 Philosophers, and Scientists, as the people of a country 
 selecting as their ruler the wise and far-seeing Political 
 Thinker. Not that I blame them for not doing so ; on the 
 contrary, men of deep political insight are apt to take too 
 long views of politics, and would, if they had the power, 
 grasp at the realization of their ideals before public 
 opinion was ripe, and so throw Society into confusion, 
 with the certainty, too, of recoil. If we admit, then, that 
 we must have the Demagogue on the side of the rich 
 when the party that represents the poor is in power, 
 on the side of the poor when the rich are in power 
 there need be no special cause for anxiety. So long as 
 the Demagogue represents the interests of his party, or 
 the people, and not his own interests, he is doing 
 precisely what is expected of him ; should he work 
 directly for his own hand, and so become mischievous, he 
 is easily dismissed ; should he attempt to lead public 
 opinion before the natural time, the world has a fine 
 instinct for men with higher ideas than its own, and 
 he will be quickly superseded. My own objection to the 
 successful demagogue is the weight which, from his 
 position, he carries into regions of thought, where, from 
 want of knowledge, his influence must be most pernicious. 
 I have noticed that the People, or the Press as representing 
 the People, prefer to hear the opinions of their leading 
 statesmen, on subjects entirely foreign to their own
 
 348 GOVERNMENT 
 
 pursuits, to the opinions of the professors of the subjects 
 themselves. I have known meetings specially called to 
 give the public an opportunity of hearing some eminent 
 man on his own specialty, where the newspaper reports 
 next day merely observed that the learned lecturer, after 
 delivering a most interesting and exhaustive discourse, 
 was followed by the chairman some Cabinet Minister, 
 perhaps and have then gone on to give his remarks 
 in full. All this, of course, is gradually taken more 
 and more at its worth as the great mass of the people 
 increase in knowledge, but, owing to the illusion which 
 surrounds the occupants of position and power, it will 
 never be altogether countervailed. Even more pernicious 
 than the chance influence of the Demagogue on subjects 
 foreign to politiqs, is his influence on Foreign Affairs, 
 where, from want of knowledge, he may upset established 
 relations, precipitate wars, and stir up animosities which 
 can only, perhaps, be allayed after a great expenditure of 
 time and money. But here, again, we are comforted by 
 the reflection that, owing to the force of prescription and 
 the binding character of international arrangements, 
 interference in foreign affairs is every day becoming less 
 and less frequent, till it is now almost limited to retro- 
 grade communities in outlying regions of the world. In 
 America, where foreign complications are reduced to 
 a minimum, and elections turn almost entirely on 
 domestic questions, the issues are so well defined, and the 
 policy to be pursued is so well known and understood 
 by the people themselves, that it is of very little impor- 
 portance who is at the head of affairs ; and almost any 
 man with a character for common honesty, any ' blind 
 horse ' or abstraction of a man, about whom little is 
 known, may have a chance for the highest position. But 
 then, in America, the Politician, or even the Statesman, 
 has little more influence than a vestryman has with us. 
 Indeed, it seems clear that until what is called the 
 Statesman ceases with us to be the fetish which from
 
 DEMOCRACY THE DEMAGOGUE. 349 
 
 ancient tradition he has become ; until rhetorical verbiage 
 ceases to carry with it, as it does with us, the idea of 
 general superiority of mind ; and the opinion of rulers and 
 men of 'position,' on all topics human and divine, ceases to 
 be of such transcendent moment, the reign of the 
 Demagogue, with such evils as he may bring with him, 
 may be expected to continue.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 DEMOCRACY 
 THE MARCH OF CONCENTRATION. 
 
 IN the preceding chapters I have discussed the dangers 
 with which the stability of Democracies is threatened from 
 the political side. But, of late, certain dangers have been 
 pointed out as threatening its stability from the economic 
 side. It is said that that Equality of Conditions which is 
 the essential principle of Democracy is not the ultimate 
 goal of Society, but, on the contrary, is only a temporary 
 stage, through which Society is passing, and which in time 
 must give way to the old condition of inequality; the 
 reason alleged being that, owing to the progress of in- 
 vention, the perfecting of machinery, and the increased 
 facilities afforded by these, commodities can be produced 
 and distributed more cheaply, more efficiently, and more 
 expeditiously on a large scale than on a small one ; and that 
 therefore there is a natural and inevitable tendency to the 
 concentration of Capital and the materials of industry in 
 fewer and fewer hands, with the certainty of an Industrial 
 Aristocracy ultimately arising, as powerful and oppressive 
 as the old Feudal Aristocracy which it will have replaced. It 
 is pointed out that in primitive states of Society each man 
 was his own weapon-maker, tent-maker, clothier, and food- 
 producer ; that as the arts of civilization advanced, and 
 the division of labour was found to be more advantageous 
 and productive, we had manufacturers and retailers of all
 
 DEMOCRACY THE MARCH OF CONCENTRATION. 351 
 
 sizes, large, small, and intermediate; and it is argued that 
 as time goes on, the process of concentration will increase 
 to an extent of which only the beginnings are at present 
 visible. Special manufactures have long been concen- 
 trated in particular localities, like Sheffield, Birmingham, 
 and Manchester, which, from their situation, or their easy 
 access to natural agents, have enabled their appropriators 
 to drive all other competitors in this country from the 
 field. It is only recently that this tendency to con- 
 centration has extended to agriculture ; yet already, in 
 some parts of America, the great bonanza farms threaten 
 to drive the small independent farmers to the wall ; and 
 now that this tendency is beginning to invade the 
 province of Distribution, we see those immense Co-opera- 
 tive Stores, which have so injured the small independent 
 retailers, and compelled many of them to close their 
 shops and take dependent situations in the larger concerns. 
 And thus the tendency is to make Capitalists fewer and 
 more powerful, and Workmen of all kinds more numerous, 
 more helpless, and more dependent ; and so to re-establish 
 that tyranny of the few over the many, which we had 
 hoped to have abolished for ever from this world. 
 
 Now, even admitting that this tendency to concen- 
 tration is natural and even inevitable, I do not feel bound 
 to admit the inference drawn from it. On the contrary, 
 were there nothing else, it is simply and flatly incredible 
 a priori, that the same civilization which has ameliorated 
 the lot of man and raised him from the degradation in 
 which he was sunk, should, in its natural course and 
 evolution, and by means, too, of instruments, all of which 
 are good in themselves greater education and knowledge 
 of the arts of life, greater command over physical and 
 material agents, greater powers of production, and the 
 rest so reverse its steady and beneficent influence as to 
 lead men back again into that degradation and depen- 
 dence from which they have emerged. It is incredible 
 that after the long centuries of struggle to lift themselves
 
 352 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 from the slough in which Feudal Inequality had plunged 
 them, men should allow themselves to be enmeshed 
 :and fettered by an Industrial Inequality as fixed, as 
 galling, and as hopeless. The fallacy, it is plain, lies in 
 confounding the conditions on which Feudal Inequality 
 rested, with the conditions necessary to the consumma- 
 tion of Industrial Inequality. Feudal Inequality, it must 
 be remembered, was imposed by force, and upheld by 
 the sword ; and when once fastened on the necks of the 
 People could only be thrown off as they came up to 
 .an equality of power with their masters. Its pernicious 
 effects, therefore, must naturally last as long as the 
 feudal regime lasts. But the Industrial Inequality to 
 which ' the march of concentration ' tends, if it come 
 at all, must come by the free consent of the people ; 
 and will only be permitted to advance to the point 
 .at which it is for the general good. When its evil 
 effects begin to show themselves, the People have it in 
 their power to make such laws as shall convert the great 
 increase in material prosperity which concentration will 
 bring about, to their own benefit. Of late years, and 
 since the laws and conditions that have produced the 
 existing inequalities of wealth have been more clearly 
 discerned, proposals have been made, and by many are 
 seriously entertained, for levelling the existing inequalities, 
 .and converting them from a national danger to a national 
 benefit. Men are beginning to see, for example, that the 
 profits from all trades and industrial undertakings should, 
 in the natural way, and by the mere effect of competition, 
 tend to an equality; and are beginning to discover that 
 the unnatural agency which thwarts this beneficent 
 tendency is the existence of Monopolies monopolies of 
 the land of a country and its natural agents, monopolies 
 of special privileges, of special situations, and the like. 
 Of the monopoly of land, the Feudalism of England, as of 
 all Europe formerly, with its now baneful influence on 
 national expansion, is the result. The great Millionaires
 
 DEMOCRACY THE MARCH OF CONCENTRATION. 353 
 
 of cities like London and New York are the product of 
 the monopolies of special situations ; and the great 
 Railway-kings of America, with their growing and per- 
 nicious influence, of the monopoly of special privileges. 
 The natural remedy for this, according to Henry George, 
 is the resumption of land and of all special privileges by the 
 State ; by which means all those profits which arise from 
 the general expansion and progress of the community 
 would be diverted from the pockets of individuals, 
 whom they make dangerous or pernicious, to the 
 great general public, whom they would benefit. This, 
 Mr. George thinks, would counteract that vast aggrega* 
 tion of capital in fewer and fewer hands which ' the 
 march of concentration ' is swiftly bringing about, by 
 throwing open lands that are held for a rise (thereby 
 taking off the strain of competition, and so raising wages), 
 besides relieving those ' gluts ' which are so disastrous to 
 great bodies of the working-classes. All this, however, is 
 by the way, and on it I here offer no opinion. What I 
 wished to point out was, that when the People have the 
 power, there is no condition for which a remedy and 
 balance cannot be found, in so far, of course, as the 
 progress of knowledge, of the arts of life, and the age 
 and time of the world will permit. As to the particular 
 remedies to be employed, these may well be left to form 
 the subject of a separate volume. 
 
 2 A
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 DEMOCRACY MORALITY. 
 
 IN the present chapter I propose to consider with the 
 reader some of the moral evils with which Democracy, as 
 a principle of government, has been charged. The most 
 important, perhaps, and objectionable of these evils, 
 especially to those brought up in aristocratic traditions, 
 is what De Toqueville has called ' the tyranny of the 
 majority;' the tendency there is for the condition of 
 Equality to fetter originality and individuality of mind and 
 character, and to put restraints on the free expression of 
 opinions that run counter to the sentiments and prejudices 
 of the great body of the people. In aristocracies, the 
 Upper Classes have not only the material power necessary 
 to defend themselves against the adverse sentiments and 
 opinions of the Majority, but they have a defence also in 
 pride, and in the contempt with which they regard these 
 opinions. The dissolute and sceptical courtiers of the age of 
 Voltaire or of Charles II., for example, had about as much 
 regard for the conscientious scruples of the superstitious 
 and priest-ridden tradesmen, dependents, and serfs, that 
 made up what is called ' the people,' as they had for the 
 cattle in their fields. But, in democracies, where, from the 
 prevailing ideas of equality, there is no creature so mean 
 and vulgar but is accustomed to have his opinions and 
 prejudices treated with serious regard, there is neither the
 
 D EMOCRA C YMORA LITY. 355 
 
 power nor the pride in individuals to act as a bulwark 
 'against the tide of Public Sentiment ; the more so, as this 
 very importance attaching to each individual gives to 
 the opinions and sentiments of the people in mass a kind 
 of sacred infallibility. In aristocracies, too, the Upper 
 Classes are secretly conscious that their errors and frailties 
 will be extenuated by reason of that sweet illusion so 
 prevalent among all ' inferiors ' and underlings, whereby 
 vice in the great and powerful is not quite the same low 
 and forbidding thing it is in the poor and low-born, 
 but shows rather as a pardonable eccentricity, a kind of 
 foil or shade to set off the general lustre, or is even 
 converted by the baser sort into positive virtue; much in 
 the same way as one often hears the atrocities of the old 
 Jewish Jehovah (by reason of the halo which power and 
 majesty throw over deformity), converted by modern 
 preachers, with loathsome baseness, into positive virtues ; 
 the series of successive exterminations of men, women, 
 and children being severally particularized as special and 
 peculiar mercies enduring for ever. If, in aristocracies, 
 the Upper Classes are defended by their power and pride 
 against the pressure of the majority, the Lower Classes, 
 too, on their side have a defence against the tyranny of the 
 few, in their numbers, their obscurity, and the sympathy 
 of their fellows. But, in democracies, where the very air 
 is charged with hostile prejudices, where, it is asked, can 
 the individual fly for escape ? 
 
 Now, I am bound to confess, that were this charge (so 
 freely urged against democracies) of repressing originality 
 and the free expression of sentiment and thought, made 
 good, it would be, to me at least, condemnation final and 
 irrevocable. But if we calmly consider it, is it not 
 incredible that a form of government which permits the 
 greatest latitude of individual action should at the same 
 time put the greatest restraint on individual thought ? The 
 truth is, that the tyranny of opinion in aristocracies is 
 really quite as great as in democracies ; the only difference
 
 35 6 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 being that in democracies, where there is no gradation of 
 classes, the tyranny is general and universal, whereas in 
 aristocracies, where society lies in layers one above another,, 
 the tyranny is exercised only by each class over its own 
 members. But then it must be observed that the advan- 
 tage which aristocracies gain by reason of the limited 
 extent of the pressure to which they are subjected, is 
 fully compensated by the greater intensity and concentra- 
 tion of that pressure. The social pressure put on the 
 members of an Aristocracy by the written or unwritten 
 laws and customs of their order, is greater than any that 
 could be brought to bear in a Democracy. Those who, in 
 the old aristocratic times, refused to fight a duel when 
 insulted, or broke their word of honour with their own 
 class, or betrayed the interest of their order, were visited 
 by social penalties more terrible than could anywhere be 
 found or enforced in democracies. In democracies, on the 
 other hand, although the individual lies broadside to the 
 full sweep of public sentiment, his defence lies in the 
 differentiation of sentiment and thought into which the 
 great breakers of public opinion split in their onward roll,- 
 and which so neutralise, balance, and antagonise each 
 other, as to rob them of all their terrors. Besides, in 
 democracies, where the least possible restraint is put on 
 freedom of action, only such restraints are put on free- 
 dom or expression of thought as are indispensable for 
 common morality ; whereas, in aristocracies, besides these 
 restraints, there is the more minute and circumstantial 
 pressure imposed on each individual, by a host of 
 unwritten customs, prejudices, sentiments, and traditions. 
 Take India and America, as examples ; one, of the most 
 rigid of all forms of aristocracy, that of caste; the other,, 
 of the purest and most advanced of democracies ; and 
 what do we find ? In India, the tyranny of custom r 
 opinion, and mode of life is so great, that the slightest 
 infringement is followed by a loss of caste, and the loss of 
 caste is tantamount to a sentence of execution ; and, from
 
 DEM OCR A C YMORA LITY. 357 
 
 old habit and custom, this tyranny is worn so easily and 
 smoothly that men walk about to all outward appearance 
 as if they were really free. But in America freedom of 
 thought and sentiment is so complete, that you have the 
 spectacle, hitherto unknown, of Catholics, and Protestants, 
 Atheists and Mormons, Fr'eelovers, Shakers, and Quakers, 
 all living quietly side by side in peaceful toleration ; and 
 the sense of liberty so acute, that the slightest restraint 
 galls the spirit and raises aloud the cry of tyranny and 
 oppression, which the old effete aristocracies hearing from 
 a distance, regard with secret satisfaction as the fore- 
 runner of disruption and ruin. 
 
 A more serious charge brought against democracies is 
 their tendency to generate a low tone of Morality. In 
 aristocracies, where Society is divided into 'classes' or castes, 
 lying one above another in successive strata, the indi- 
 viduals composing these respective classes are bound 
 together by certain written or unwritten laws and 
 customs, which form a kind of code of honour by which 
 the conduct of the individual members is regulated. 
 And just as a man feels his obligations to his own family 
 more binding than his obligations to his neighbours, so 
 these ' laws of honour ' which bind a man to his own class, 
 have much greater influence over his actions than the 
 ordinary ' laws of morality ' which unite him to the world 
 in general. It will scarcely, I believe, be denied that the 
 'code of honour which regulated the intercourse of the 
 Upper Classes in the old aristocracies had much more 
 influence over their conduct than the Ten Command- 
 ments ; and the same spirit pervaded every class, down even 
 to the various orders of menials and domestic servants. 
 Trade, too, formed no exception ; but under this regime, 
 and at a time when from its limited extent it could still 
 be confined to corporations and guilds, the old manu- 
 facturing and trading houses that had attained to a kind 
 of historic reputation, carried into business the same code 
 of "honour and integrity that the old aristocratic families
 
 358 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 carried into their prescriptive occupations, and would no- 
 sooner dream of turning out an inferior cloth or blade, 
 than a gentleman would of breaking his word of honour, or 
 cheating at cards. Now, however, that commerce has long 
 burst the barriers of guilds and corporations, and flows 
 freely and without restraint in whatever direction it can 
 find an opening, this old spirit has to a large extent 
 become extinct, although the tradition still lingers among 
 the older fashioned and long established firms. In demo- 
 cracies, many circumstances have conspired to give rise 
 to a different state of morality. If we take America 
 and the colonies as the countries where the spirit of 
 Democracy has within our own experience been most 
 completely realised, we shall find in the circumstances 
 of their early history explanation of those moral charac- 
 teristics which to a large extent distinguish them. Going 
 back in imagination to the early condition of these 
 colonies, we see men reared in all the traditions of 
 countries where there was not an acre of soil but was 
 fenced in and appropriated so that you could not set 
 down your foot without danger of trespass, where the air 
 was so full of privilege and distinction that upper and 
 lower classes seemed scarcely to belong to the same order 
 of being, landing in successive immigrations on the shores 
 of vast continents, where boundless expanses of rich and 
 fertile soil stretched before them to unknown horizons,, 
 and lay awaiting the energy, the talent, and the resources 
 of man and where, in the absence of ranks and titles 
 (all being about alike in social circumstances and material 
 resources), no ground of social superiority was recognised,. 
 but all met on a footing of equality. Under such 
 circumstances, it may be asked, what was most likely to- 
 be the supreme aim, effort, and ambition of these men ? 
 That there must be some aim to which, as a body, Society 
 would bend all its efforts, and to the attainment of success 
 in which each man must look for distinction, is a necessity 
 of the nature of man. It lies in the very nature of man,.
 
 DEMOCRACY MORALITY. 359 
 
 that he cannot rest until he has brought himself up to a 
 point of equality with his fellows ; and when he has reached 
 that equality, he cannot rest until he has raised himself to 
 a point of superiority to them. From the play and 
 interaction of these two primary impulses and poles of 
 the mind, spring all the varied movements of human life, 
 with its emulations and ambitions, its envies, jealousies, 
 and pride. But, although the love of equality on the one 
 hand, and the love of inequality on the other, are the motor 
 impulses which by their ceaseless play keep the world from 
 stagnating, the direction of men's effort will be determined 
 by the circumstances in which they are placed, and in which 
 they must live and work. It is evident, therefore, that 
 Rank and Title, although they make a fine point of distinc- 
 tion and inequality, could have no chance of becoming the 
 practical aim of the colonists. For, in the first place, 
 they did not exist to excite emulation (all being drawn 
 from the same station in life), and even were it not so, in 
 the absence of the necessary conditions for basing on 
 them an assumption of superiority, such, for example, as 
 the appropriation of the soil in a few hands, they must 
 quickly have become obsolete. Nor could Culture become 
 the main object of their pursuit, for, although it might be 
 made a point of distinction, the exigencies of daily life 
 forbade it being a general pursuit, and made it as remote 
 from the interests of the great mass of men as a know- 
 ledge of the distance of Jupiter or composition of the Sun. 
 The only possible object of general pursuit as a point of 
 distinction must have been Material Wealth more food, 
 more clothing, more luxuries, more command over the 
 products of labour and to this, indeed, the vast con- 
 tinents, stretching in all their undeveloped opulence before 
 the colonists, incited and compelled them. Education, 
 especially of the simple and ' practical ' kind, was indeed 
 highly prized, but more as a potent auxiliary in the 
 struggle for wealth and material success, than as an end in 
 itself. With Material Wealth, then, as the one tangible and
 
 360 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 easily recognizable basis on which to found a stable and 
 orderly social structure ; and with the very nature of the 
 country compelling men to enter and civilize it (the genius 
 of the world generally working out its great ends by 
 secret, devious, indirect, and often selfish means) what is 
 the Form of Morality that must inevitably have arisen ? 
 Now, in aristocracies, where Society is divided into castes 
 or classes, and where codes of honour prescribe the con- 
 duct of the individual member, man's centre of action and 
 behaviour lies not in himself, but in the class to which he 
 belongs. But in democracies, where there are no classes, 
 and therefore no class-pride, prejudice, or tradition which 
 it is a point of honour to maintain, the individual has his 
 centre of action in himself alone ; he becomes primarily 
 all in all to himself; his own aims and designs all- 
 important ; and an excessive individualism and egotism 
 become his prevailing habit of mind and point of view. 
 And, as from the relations that exist between men, springs 
 the morality they will exhibit towards each other, it is 
 evident that the tone of morality in democracies will 
 not on the one hand be as high and keen as the ' point 
 of honour' between members of the same class in an 
 aristocracy, nor on the other as low as that existing 
 between different classes ; not so high, for example, as the 
 scrupulousness of ' gentlemen ' in their relations with each 
 other, nor so low as the moral relations existing between 
 Jews and Gentiles, masters and serfs, owners and slaves, 
 and the like. And Material Wealth being, as we have 
 seen, the main object of pursuit, the Code of Morality, 
 while stringent enough to afford a secure basis on which 
 to build, will be one elastic enough to allow of every man 
 having a full and free chance of reaching his object ; a 
 code of morality, in short, that will put no further restraint 
 on individual enterprize than is absolutely necessary for 
 general security, and the motto of which might well run, 
 ' Be as sharp as you can, but meet your engagements.' 
 The result is, that while in aristocracies ' honour ' is the
 
 DEMOCRACY MORALITY. 361 
 
 watchword, in democracies it is 'smartness' and keenness of 
 perception ; and while in aristocracies it is no disgrace to 
 a man to have been taken in by the superior ' smartness ' 
 or sharpness of some purely business man, in democracies 
 it would be pretty universally considered so. But, then, 
 as a set-off, it must be remembered that while in aristo- 
 cracies the great body of the lower mercantile and trading 
 classes will more or less literally allow themselves to be 
 kicked, provided only they can make money in the trans- 
 action ; in democracies, each man prizes the erectness of 
 his manhood more than aught else besides, and sooner 
 than submit to a personal indignity would throw up the 
 concern altogether. 
 
 Another vice said to be characteristic of democracies 
 is the vice of . Envy. 
 
 There is nothing, perhaps, that better exemplifies the 
 glory of the human mind and its potential infinitude, than 
 the splendid heights to which man will rise when his 
 principles, his personal dignity, honour, or manhood are 
 attacked ; the serene cheerfulness with which he will 
 submit to contumely, reproach, and even martyrdom, in 
 defence of what he believes to be the right. On the other 
 hand, nothing better illustrates his intellectual and moral 
 meanness, and even baseness, than the ease and sheep-like 
 docility with which he will permit all this fine elevation and 
 expansion to be 'put into circumscription and confine' by 
 some small and miserable idea, and himself to be led captive 
 by some poor phrase ; and that, too, not because the truth 
 or the right in question is subtle and recondite (on the 
 contrary, it is generally as open as the day), but because 
 it is looked at through the glazy eye of Custom, and has 
 got itself enveloped in the thick obstruction and threefold 
 wrappage of Tradition, Imposture, and Illusion. When we 
 consider, for example, the glorious conception of the 
 Great Cause of Things which arises in the mind when in 
 its rare and elevated moments it contemplates the ever- 
 rolling miscellany of the World with its inwoven radiances
 
 362 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 and powers, we are conscious of the potential greatness 
 and elevation of the human mind ; but when as embodi- 
 ment of this high conception men point to some Indian 
 Vishnu on his car, or Hebrew Jehovah seated with his 
 feet on the necks of his enemies, with their altogether too* 
 human basenesses, jealousies, and revenges, we recognise 
 its practical meanness. Again, when we see men sacri- 
 ficing home, friends, even life itself, in some great cause, 
 we feel the essential infinitude of man ; but when we find 
 that all this fine ardour can be subdued and stroked away 
 by passing a few phrases over it, such as the * divine right 
 of kings,' 'blue blood,' 'privileges of nobility,' and the like, we 
 are conscious of its real smallness. Now, in aristocracies, 
 where the idea of rank and title draws a magic ring 
 around man's soul, marking out the limits within which 
 his nature is allowed to freely travel, there is no scope 
 for envy between the different classes into which Society 
 is artificially divided. And besides, as the members of 
 each class are practically indemnified for having to bend 
 to their 'superiors,' by their 'inferiors' bending to them, a 
 kind of poetic justice keeps each man's nature sweet and 
 harmonious. But in democracies, where men's conception 
 of their own dignity and manhood suffers no restraint 
 from the imprisoning nature of a mere phrase (unless, 
 indeed, it be the idea of ' equality ' itself, which, although 
 true on the defensive side, becomes false, and a phrase 
 merely, when used aggressively), where all men are 
 nominally equal, where a general fear of falling beneath 
 your neighbour's achievements seizes all minds, and where 
 each man is seen, as in Carlyle's pitcher of tamed vipers, 
 struggling to get his head above the rest, Envy burns 
 through Society like a prairie fire. But then it is to be 
 remarked, as a set-off, that, although envy is wanting 1 
 between the different classes in an aristocracy, it is 
 intensified between the members of the same class ; and 
 any appearance of a man attempting to ape his superiors, 
 or aspiring to rise to the class above his own, is regarded
 
 DEMOCRACY MORALITY. 363; 
 
 with a more narrow and intense envy than the general 
 and diffused Envy of democracies. Besides, Envy, like- 
 avarice and other baser passions which in the economy 
 of Nature are converted into good, subserves a beneficent 
 purpose, by stimulating the dull and torpid, and keeping 
 them up to the general level ; should it become excessive,, 
 it can easily be allayed by the touchstone of actual life, 
 which is the last test of superiority ; and distinction thus 
 gained must naturally call forth a more genuine feeling of 
 reverence than can possibly arise where men's titles repre- 
 sent qualities altogether extraneous to personal merit.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 DEMOCRACY SOCIETY. 
 
 IN the present chapter I shall turn for a moment to con- 
 sider the social evils alleged to be inherent in the principle 
 of Democracy ; and on looking through the pages of one 
 of the most eminent exponents of that principle, I come 
 first on the charge of Monotony. 
 
 In countries where men are all alike equal, Society, 
 when looked at from the outside and from a distance, 
 shows like a vast sandy plain, made up of particles of the 
 same size, character, and composition throughout; and 
 cannot, in consequence, have the picturesqueness of old 
 aristocratic countries where you have haughty con- 
 temptuous lordlings on the one hand, and ignorant semi- 
 brutish hinds touching their caps on the other, and be- 
 tween these two a vast body of respectable middle-class 
 ' Philistines,' admiring on the one hand and despising on 
 the other, and alternately bowing and bullying on the 
 right hand and on the left. But if, instead of merely 
 contemplating democracies and aristocracies from with- 
 out, we look at them closely from within, we shall find 
 matters reversed ; aristocracies, instead of being pic- 
 turesque, will be seen to be monotonous, and democracies, 
 instead of being monotonous, will be seen to be pic- 
 turesque. In democracies, where there are no general 
 class-ideas to restrain the free expansion and natural
 
 DEMOCRACY SOCIETY. 365. 
 
 growth of the individual mind, there is 'no reason why 
 there should not be as great a variety of individual 
 character and culture as there are changes to be rung on 
 the original elements of human nature, its impulses, 
 sentiments, and passions in every combination of power 
 and degree. And, accordingly, we find that in America 
 and the Colonies where we might imagine that men/ 
 would be all about alike, an intimate knowledge of the 
 individuals discloses wide and interesting points of dif- 
 ference and of individuality in ideas, sentiments, and 
 habits of thought. In aristocracies, on the contrary, 
 although the broad and recognized differences of ' classes " 
 in culture, manners, speech, and ideas, give to Society a 
 pleasing and picturesque variety, the individuals of which 
 these respective ' classes ' are composed (being moulded on 
 the broad general ideas of the class, rather than, as in 
 democracies, developed along the lines of their own 
 nature and constitution) soon become monotonous in 
 their sameness and absence of variety. In America, you 
 never know what peculiarities of character and thought 
 will suddenly be disclosed by the man you meet ; but in 
 England, so marked and definite are the aims, ideals, and 
 modes of thought of the tradesman-class, for example,- 
 that, broadly speaking, you may affirm that in knowing 
 one you know all. This is true to even a greater degree 
 of the class of ' gentlemen ; ' mere differences of opinion 
 between them becoming invisible in the great common 
 identity of sentiment, manners, speech, and tone of 
 thought. This contrast between democracies and aristo- 
 cracies is well reflected in the dramatic productions of 
 the different countries. In England, the ordinary stock 
 plays are always picturesque, owing to the variety of 
 ' classes' of society that are introduced servants, footmen, 
 tradesmen, professional men, noblemen, and the like but 
 there is little more than the most superficial difference in 
 the types ; the interest in new plays being made to turn 
 rather on new situations and circumstances than on new
 
 366 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 types of character or modes of thought. In America, on 
 the contrary, the interest is made to turn rather on new 
 and original forms of mind and character, than on a 
 picturesque contrast of classes and social types. In a word, 
 Society in aristocracies, being laid out in 'classes' like 
 a neatly-trimmed garden, has a superficial picturesqueness 
 which soon grows monotonous ; but in democracies, where 
 it is allowed to develope in all its spontaneity like a 
 Brazilian forest, it charms us with the variety and pic- 
 turesqueness of Nature. 
 
 Another charge brought against democracies is their 
 want of Culture. 
 
 I have already shown that, in countries where there are 
 no hereditary titles, ranks, or honours ; where men are all 
 about alike in worldly station and material power ; and 
 where rich tracts of fertile land lie in vast expanses open 
 to all, and waiting only to be developed by labour ; the 
 acquisition of Wealth (especially in an age when religious 
 fanaticisms have ceased to be the serious concerns of life) 
 must become the main object of pursuit, and Culture, in 
 its highest sense, must be more or less ignored by the 
 great body of the people. At the same time I pointed 
 out, too, that while Culture in this large sense would be 
 ignored, the ' practical ' education so necessary for success 
 in business and industrial pursuits would be very highly 
 prized. In aristocracies, too, (if we leave out the few 
 belonging to the leisured classes who make up the culture 
 of the community), we shall find that among the great 
 body of the people there is little regard for general culture 
 and intelligence. Men admire an oration that will turn 
 a parliamentary majority, a newspaper leader that will 
 et off a prisoner at the bar, a machine that will 
 economise labour ; but they have little or no admiration 
 for that wider and more general insight into the World 
 and Human Life, which characterises the finer and rarer 
 intelligences, and in which true culture chiefly consists. 
 But, although democracies thus, in their early stages, and
 
 DEMOCRACY-SOCIETY. 367 
 
 aristocracies at all periods of their existence, are alike in 
 ignoring Culture, there are certain differences inhering in 
 the very nature of these two forms of government, so that 
 while in aristocracies the great body of the people con- 
 tinue in an unprogressive state, in democracies they tend 
 naturally to a higher culture. In aristocracies, Society is 
 built throughout on the principle of rank and status ; and 
 men's influence and general weight in the community are 
 determined by the place they occupy in this hierarchy, 
 rather than by their individual characteristics of mind 
 and character. It makes comparatively little difference, 
 for example, to the general estimate of a working-man in 
 aristocracies (so long, that is, as he remains a working- 
 man), whether his feelings be coarse or refined, his 
 intellect narrow and obtuse or capacious and acute; 
 men's interest in him ceasing from the time they know 
 the 'class' or order to which he belongs, without inquiring 
 into his individual mental or moral characteristics. The 
 first and most important point in regard to any man in 
 :an Aristocracy, is his class, family, or connexions ; in a 
 word, is he a ' gentleman' or not ? The question as to 
 whether he is clever and intelligent, or has this or that 
 point of talent or character, being but of secondary 
 concern. The consequence of this preponderating in- 
 terest in mere rank and 'position' over all individual 
 characteristics of intellect and knowledge is, that men's 
 whole aim (after the daily routine of the profession, 
 trade, or shop, has been gone through) is to be accredited 
 with the qualities most admired, that is to say, the 
 qualities of the ' gentleman ' in the conventional sense of 
 that term. And as these qualities consist rather in 
 certain outward and conventional forms in certain stock 
 manners and modes of sentiment and behaviour, in 
 arts of politeness and airs of distinction than in any 
 general elevation of thought, or insight into the world, 
 Culture, in aristocracies, except within the circle of the 
 few to whom by nature or circumstance it is congenial,
 
 3 68 GO VERNMEN T. 
 
 has no home, and the reign of the middle-class ' Philistine, 5 " 
 coarse or refined, becomes assured and perennial. In 
 democracies it is quite otherwise. With no difference of 
 'classes' (all men being gentlemen who behave themselves) r 
 with money as the main object of pursuit with the great 
 masses of the people, the first point of interest in regard 
 to any man is, not the 'class' or category to which he 
 belongs, but how far he possesses the individual personal 
 and intellectual qualities by which worldly success is 
 attained energy, force of character, perseverance, and 
 insight into men and things. And, as time goes on, and 
 population and wealth increase, and Society is dif- 
 ferentiated into its innumerable callings, not only does a 
 Cultured Class arise, as in aristocracies, but the very 
 facility of passing from one occupation to another (owing 
 to the absence in democracies of prescription, prejudice, 
 and class-monopoly), produces among the people in 
 general a many-sidedness and power of Detachment, which 
 is the first condition of that insight into human life and 
 the world, in which Culture, on its intellectual side, chiefly 
 consists. And the result of this many-sidedness and power 
 of Detachment, this interest in the attributes of the 
 individual intellectual and other rather than in the 
 mere class to which he belongs, is, when stimulated by 
 the educational facilities which characterize democracies,. 
 a wider and more general culture than is to be found 
 under any other regime. 
 
 Now, these a priori considerations will be seen to be 
 verified in the actual intellectual condition of America and 
 the Colonies. Some fifty years ago, De Toqueville, who- 
 was the first to lay this charge of want of culture at the 
 door of Democracy, visited America, and found there, as 
 was to be expected in those early days, neither a leisured 
 class nor a class of men of culture, but a wide and general 
 shrewdness and intelligence, directed principally to the 
 making of money. Since then, however, wealth has in- 
 creased, and Society has become highly differentiated,.
 
 DEMOCRACY SOCIETY. 369 
 
 -and at the present time there are to be found in America 
 perhaps a larger number of cultured persons than in any 
 other country in the world. Lectures on high subjects, 
 which with us can find no audiences, are one of the most 
 profitable sources of income to American authors, and are 
 as popular as the theatre and concert-room ; while more 
 than double the number of books per head of the highest 
 order of literature, including those authors who are read 
 here only by the cultivated few, are read there than in this 
 country. I have noticed, too, as corroboration of what I 
 have affirmed to be the mental tendencies generated by 
 Democracies, that books which throw light on the general 
 Laws of Human Life are very highly prized; and that even 
 pseudo-sciences like Phrenology, which, although super- 
 ficial, empirical, and but half true, yet profess to let you 
 .by a short and easy cut into the mysteries of the human 
 mind, are very popular, and have a great charm for 
 thoughtful men who cannot find time for more severe and 
 protracted studies. In this country, on the contrary, men 
 have so little interest in Intellect generally, and the 
 general Laws of Human Nature, that even if men's minds 
 could be accurately measured by the size of the bumps 
 bulging on their foreheads, few would care sufficiently to 
 take the trouble to examine them ; although, if by 
 uncovering their fronts their social grade could be as 
 accurately ascertained, the bedridden would rise and be 
 carried in litters. A further illustration of the mental 
 tendencies I have mentioned in democracies will be found 
 in the personal peculiarities of the Americans, and the 
 peculiarities of their Thought and Literature. If we take 
 the ordinary American whom one meets in one's travels, 
 how often does one see his ideal of excellence appearing 
 in his vulgar boast that ' He guesses he knows human 
 nature about as well as it is to be known.' The higher 
 order of preachers in America, instead of, like ours, 
 dwelling on ' the exceeding sinfulness of sin,' and the 
 metaphysics of repentance, redemption, forgiveness, and 
 
 2 B
 
 37 
 
 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 other sentimental, half-real, and more of less fictitious^ 
 affections of the professional conscience and life, dwell on 
 the real weaknesses of men their real temptations, real 
 sorrows, real aspirations, and the real delusions by which 
 they deceive themselves and others. And lastly, although 
 Great Men have no country, and the selection of par- 
 ticular instances must always, of course, be more or less 
 arbitrary, yet, if we take the highest order of literature, 
 we may see in Emerson, for example, an instance of the 
 finest insight into the Laws of the Human Mind since 
 Shakspeare and Bacon ; not only the lower side of these 
 laws, as we might expect in a ' cute Yankee,' but their 
 highest spiritual exhibitions. The truth is, any system of 
 government which, like Democracy, opens up an un- 
 limited arena and horizon to every individual, must 
 stimulate all his ideas and unfold all his faculties, as a 
 flower unfolds all its petals before the sun, and so must 
 be favourable to Culture. 
 
 The last, and in some respects the most serious charge 
 brought against Democracy, to which I desire to call 
 attention, is the charge of want of Manners, and want of 
 Dignity. 
 
 In a former chapter, I endeavoured to show that the 
 elevation and expansion of the individual mind is the end 
 of Nature the goal to which all these long centuries of 
 conflict and effort have been slowly tending, the last 
 result to which all this formidable apparatus of art and 
 science, machinery, invention, and civilization are steadily 
 working. Under the term expansion of mind, may be 
 included all that is comprised in intellectual culture ; and 
 to this, as we have just seen, Democracy supplies the most 
 potent stimulus, and affords the most favourable oppor- 
 tunities. Under the term elevation of mind, may be 
 included all that is comprised in the culture of the 
 sentiments and feelings ; and unless Democracy adds this 
 to its other purely intellectual accomplishments, the type 
 of culture which it produces can be but partial and
 
 DEMOCRACY SOCIETY. 371 
 
 incomplete. For the Feelings, after all, are the very fibres 
 of man's nature, his Intellect being but the power of 
 arranging them, and of weaving and interweaving them 
 into tissues of aesthetic, moral, or practical truth. > All 
 true intellectual Culture, if indeed it have any aim outside 
 itself, must exist for the refinement and elevation of the 
 Sentiments and Feelings. For what avails it that a man 
 is a great mathematician, if he be a poltroon ; or a great 
 scientist, if he be low-minded and grovelling ; or a great 
 litterateur, if he be a toady and sensualist ? It is because 
 a man's sentiments and tone are the core of his character, 
 that his feelings are so much more important to the 
 world in general than his opinions ; and that novels, 
 poems, and biographies, which deal with sentiment and 
 action, are so much more interesting than philosophies, 
 which deal merely with abstract thoughts. The truth is, 
 it is only the few that are interested in intellectual 
 pursuits for their own sake ; and of these, again, only a 
 moiety care for any subject outside their own specialty ; 
 but all men are alike interested in character and 
 personality. With the great masses of the people, indeed, 
 these are the only subjects of interest outside the range 
 of their daily avocations, as is seen in the prevalent love 
 of sports that call forth nerve, pluck, and tenacity, of 
 adventures that exhibit coolness and daring, and of tales 
 that tell of heroism, chivalry, and magnanimity. Again, 
 it is because the feelings are the very texture and substance 
 of human life, that the affinities of the sexes are founded 
 rather on character and sentiment than on talent ; women 
 caring little for mere cleverness, unless when resting on, 
 and growing out of, a deep substratum of strength and 
 refinement of feeling. Even men of great and com- 
 prehensive intellect are admired rather for the dim and 
 indefinite idea of elevation and sublimity of mind which 
 is believed to have been the inspirer of their great 
 thoughts, than for the thoughts themselves. It is true 
 that it is by intellect and practical energy that Civilization
 
 372 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 has been advanced, and the great work of the world 
 carried on ; and it is true, also, that nations with the 
 greatest shrewdness, invention, and practical power have 
 attained to the highest rank in the world ; but it is equally 
 certain that the individuals of whom these nations are 
 composed cannot excite the same personal and social 
 interest and admiration, as men whose tastes and feelings 
 have been highly cultivated, and who have been 
 nourished on lofty sentiments of personal dignity, honour, 
 and reserve. Hence it is that Manners, which, in the 
 widest sense of the term, are the expression of this culture 
 of the Sentiments and Feelings, have a perennial charm 
 for human beings. Although they are often a mere 
 veneering, serving as frequently, like beauty, to conceal 
 baseness, as to express nobility or elevation of mind ; 
 although, like beauty, too, they are mere form, still they 
 can never cease to be interesting ; like beauty, they have 
 their roots deep down in the structure of the world, and 
 in the original intention of Nature always refer back to 
 essence and substance; and without them human life 
 would be as hard and prosaic as the world would be if 
 shorn of its landscapes, horizons, and flowers. They 
 affect us as a beautiful poem, or picture, or statue, which 
 conceals more than it reveals ; they have the charm that 
 hangs around whatever suggests finer and nobler 
 existences than are found in reality ; getting their effects 
 from the artistic selection of the bright, the interesting, 
 and the refined situations, and the suppression and 
 rejection of all that is low, common, and unworthy. No 
 man is habitually so refined and elevated, so uniformly at 
 the height of his character, that he can afford to lay bare 
 his thoughts and feelings in all their nudity. All have their 
 low and ungenerous moments, their irritable, discordant, 
 and tuneless intervals, their daily distempers of body and 
 mind which leave them with their noble and refined 
 thoughts at neap tide ; and hence the necessity of reserve 
 of courtesy, of dignity in a word, of Manners.
 
 DEMOCRACY SOCIETY. 373 
 
 Now, in aristocracies, where Society is built on rank and 
 status, on more or less external and conventional differ- 
 ences rather than on any innate differences of nature 
 between man and man, Manners, which emphasize these 
 differences but conceal the real resemblances, are brought 
 to a high degree of perfection ; and men seek to enhance 
 their own importance by all the external agencies of cir- 
 cumstance, dignity, and reserve. But in democracies, 
 where Society is built on a foundation of equality, and 
 where material prosperity is the great goal of ambition, 
 Manners serve little purpose but to interpose obstacles 
 and delays between men and the realization of their 
 desires. They are accordingly discarded and thrust aside ; 
 Society wears an habitual come-to-business air ; and in- 
 stead of the large leisure and ample ceremony of aristo- 
 cracies, you have an almost entire absence of forms. Men 
 walk with quick short steps, as if they were not masters 
 of themselves, but were driven onward by some invisible 
 power ; as if circumstances controlled them, and not they 
 circumstances : they get overheated, talk too much, and, 
 although exceedingly civil, ignore the invaluable arts of 
 dignity and repose. But this is sadly avenged on them ; 
 for when they enter society they carry their indifference to 
 form and manner with them, and so lose the very end for 
 which they are striving personal distinction and fail 
 to get credit (especially among strangers) for the great 
 qualities which they perhaps possess. I have known 
 Americans of great power, energy, and penetration, men 
 who have helped to push their country to the first rank of 
 nations, regarded with less personal interest and admira- 
 tion than many a polite and polished, solemn and 
 impassive Turk, who has helped to turn into a wilderness 
 the most fertile provinces of the earth. 
 
 In aristocracies, where there is a hierarchy of classes 
 lying one above another, and where, as in India, the 
 barriers separating caste from caste are insuperable, men's 
 ambitions are restricted to what can be accomplished
 
 374 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 \vithin the limits of their class ; and their manners, in 
 consequence, are the simple, habitual, and traditional 
 manners of their particular caste. Even in tempered 
 castes like our own and those of European nations, where 
 there are openings left for individuals to ascend from one 
 class to another, there is still little effort made by the great 
 majority of the people to rise above their own class. 
 Education, dialect, occupation, all alike forbid it ; dialect 
 and want of education among the lower orders, making it 
 difficult for them to disguise their position, and, among 
 the middle classes, the various occupations and modes of 
 life producing a type of character and manners not to 
 be mistaken. The result is, that men's ambition being 
 practically confined within the more or less narrow limits 
 of their own class, their manners remain simple, and free 
 from ostentation and exaggeration. It is only those who 
 lie on the border line, as it were, of the various classes, 
 and whose position, in consequence, is not so assured, who, 
 in their efforts to appear better than they are, are betrayed 
 into ostentation, imitation, and exaggeration. So long, 
 of course, as men live together, the love of small distinc- 
 tions and the desire of rising above their fellows cannot be 
 stifled, and must cause more or less boasting, affectation, 
 and exaggeration ; but in aristocracies it is only between 
 members of the same class that this will arise, and, in the 
 general intercourse with the world it is checked by 
 uncertainty as to the position of the person addressed, and 
 so does not publicly appear. And besides, the habit of 
 ordering ' inferiors,' so characteristic of aristocracies, gives 
 a kind of satisfaction to one's feeling of self-complacency, 
 and is practically sufficient to satisfy the ordinary ambi- 
 tions. But in democracies, on the other hand, where 
 society lies on a dead level of equality, where there is no 
 ' superior ' class to keep you down, and no ' inferior ' class 
 over which to exercise your authority, the desire for 
 distinction, so innate in every man, closed in on all 
 hands, burns on itself like a reverberating furnace, and
 
 DEMOCRACY SOCIETY. 375 
 
 not finding any vent in the real world, takes the line of 
 least resistance and blows off in the ideal world of 
 imagination and fancy ; and you have the spectacle of 
 men, with nothing above them but the incorporeal air (for 
 there are no 'superiors'), and pressed in on all sides by 
 their fellows equally distended, swelling upwards like 
 balloons, and boasting and dilating on their own superior 
 smartness and achievements, until they burst or are 
 exhausted. And as each new acquaintance is a possible 
 rival waiting for his chance, the habit of boasting becomes 
 universal; and with the exaggeration, ostentation, and 
 vulgarity it brings in its train, is the death-knell of all good 
 manners. 
 
 In aristocracies, again, the habit of commanding from 
 childhood, produces in the governing classes a certain 
 kind of elevation of sentiment, which (with the abundance 
 of material there is to practice on in the shape of the 
 '* lower orders '), may be artistically worked up, among the 
 better natures, into a real dignity, courtesy, and dis- 
 tinction. In democracies, on the other hand, where a 
 general dread of superiority fills the air, and where the 
 first question with the vulgar in reference to any man is, 
 'Is he stuck-up?' the fear of offending Demos by any 
 .appearance or assumption of superiority produces a fami- 
 liar or half-apologetic tone which is fatal to true dignity 
 .and to that air of distinction which is the special note of 
 what Mr. Matthew Arnold would call the ' grand manner.' 
 And just as, in aristocracies, the lordlings of the upper 
 classes take advantage of the general atmosphere of 
 inequality with which men's minds are saturated, to snub 
 -or patronise you, who are perhaps in every way, except 
 in mere status, their superior ; so, in democracies, ostlers 
 :and waiters take advantage of the prevailing idea of 
 equality to elevate themselves in the social scale ; and 
 by impudently and familiarly slapping you on the shoulder 
 and asking you ' to come in and have a drink,' seek to 
 establish on you their claims to recognition and equality
 
 376 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 The result of this disgusting familiarity is to reduce all to> 
 a common level of low vulgarity, to let down the tone of 
 manners and behaviour to the lowest point, and even to 
 infect the very language, which, as we see in the slang 
 used by all conditions of men, is reinforced by metaphors 
 drawn from the card-table, the bar-room, the stables, and 
 the streets. 
 
 Now, in all this, there is no doubt a good deal of truth, 
 but we must remember that, in contrasting aristocracies, 
 with democracies, we too often have in our minds when 
 thinking of aristocracies, only the upper and educated 
 classes ; whereas in thinking of democracies, we have in 
 our minds the whole body of the people. But if, as is 
 only fair, we take a more general view, and compare 
 the deep, self-satisfied, and essential vulgarity of the 
 middle-class 'Philistine' among ourselves (not to speak of 
 the 'lower orders') with the light, harmless, and compara- 
 tively superficial boaster of democracies, the advantage 
 will, I think, be admitted to be on the side of democracies. 
 Again, we must not forget that most of the criticisms 
 of the manners of democracies come from men bred 
 in the manners of aristocracies, to whom much that 
 is essentially vulgar in aristocracies has got mixed and 
 confounded with the elements of true dignity and real 
 elevation. Much, for example, of what we consider to> 
 be real courtesy, especially to inferiors, would be regarded, 
 and justly regarded, by those brought up in democracies 
 as impertinent condescension; of what we consider true 
 dignity and the ' air of distinction,' as but artistically 
 disguised snobbishness; of what we consider reserve, 
 as vulgar pride or real stupidity. And lastly, we have 
 to remember that the process of differentiation is going 
 on in democracies as in every other social organism, and 
 that in time a large leisured and cultured class (such as 
 even now exists in America), will carry real refinement of 
 mind and behaviour to a very high point ; and further, 
 that whereas in aristocracies this culture, owing to the
 
 DEMOCRA C Y SOCIETY. 377 
 
 barriers that exist between classes, must be confined 
 to the upper classes alone, in democracies, owing to- 
 the absence of these barriers, it will extend throughout 
 the whole body of the people.
 
 PART VI -THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HISTORICAL. 
 
 HAVING prepared the way, I shall, in the present and 
 succeeding chapters, attempt to sketch out the Laws 
 which Civilization and Progress follow, and determine if 
 possible the way in which Religion, Science, and Material 
 and Social Conditions, all unite to forward and promote 
 them. Such an attempt will, I trust, not only prove of 
 interest to the reader, but must, if successful, be of the 
 highest importance also. For it will, I believe, be 
 generally admitted that no one has yet succeeded in 
 giving a complete account of the Laws of Progress, or of 
 the way in which its separate factors act and re-act on 
 each other in their various powers and degrees. It is 
 true we have had many Histories of Civilization, all of 
 them dealing more or less directly with the problem 
 before us ; but all are more or less unsatisfactory. Some 
 of them, while starting out with the essential factors, have 
 in the end been unable to give them more than a partial 
 coherence and unity ; others, seizing on some one of the 
 more important factors and ignoring the rest, have 
 thrown its workings into strong relief, leaving the others 
 in the shade ; while others, again, have made the whole 
 progress of Civilization a mere corollary of some great 
 Cosmical Law, but a law of so abstract and impersonal a 
 character as to be of little practical value. Take Comte,
 
 HISTORICAL. 379 
 
 
 
 .as example of the first. Of all Thinkers, perhaps, he has 
 .given us the most systematic and complete account of the 
 progress of Humanity under all its aspects, and has 
 made the most determined attempt to discover the great 
 Laws by which it is controlled. And yet, in spite of the 
 splendid insight which he has brought to his task, and the 
 large section of the field which he has irradiated, his 
 results cannot be regarded as more than partially satis- 
 factory. For although, in my opinion, he has been 
 eminently successful in establishing the true and vital 
 nexus between some of the factors, as, for example, 
 between the progress of Science and the evolution of 
 Religion ; between others, again, as between Religion and 
 the state of Society at large, he has managed to establish 
 only the most superficial and mechanical relations. He 
 asserts, for example, that Fetischism and Polytheism 
 were accompanied by a state of aggressive Warfare ; 
 Monotheism by defensive Warfare ; and Positivism by 
 Industry; and wishes us to infer that the changes in 
 Religion were the causes of these changes in the state of 
 Society. But even admitting that this were historically 
 true, so far as he has been able to show instead of causal 
 relations they need be nothing more than mere coin- 
 cidences. Nor is this surprising, when we remember that 
 he regards the evolution of Civilization as practically 
 synonymous with the evolution of Religion ; that is to say, 
 he regards Religion as the central and seminal principle, 
 the controlling factor in the process. But if, as we have 
 shown, Religion is the outcome and effect of the state of 
 surrounding Culture ; the shadow of which this is the 
 substance ; the complement and corollary, as we have seen, 
 of the knowledge of the Laws of Nature existing at any 
 given period ; it is evident that Comte cannot make it the 
 .cause of the corresponding Social State without inverting 
 the natural relations of things, and destroying the vital 
 connexions of his scheme as a whole. For, although the 
 Laws of Civilization, like other great laws of the world,
 
 380 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 
 
 may be read in the evolution of Religion, as well as in the- 
 evolution of the Material and Social Conditions of men ;: 
 and although, dynamically, or in the order of time, you 
 may represent Religion as acting on Civilization, equally 
 with Civilization acting on Religion ; still statically, or in 
 the order of cause and effect, you cannot do so. It was 
 by attempting to do this that Comte failed to bridge the 
 chasm existing between Religion on the one side, and the 
 state of Society at large on the other ; and so failed to give 
 unity and cohesion to his Theory of Progress. 
 
 Take, again, Guizot. In his History of Civilization he 
 has given us an admirable account of the great concrete 
 elements and institutions of Society at the various epochs 
 of European history, from the fall of the Roman Empire 
 to the advent of the French Revolution ; his object being 
 to show how, from the action and reaction of these 
 institutions, what is known as Modern Civilization has 
 arisen. Accordingly, his first procedure is to take us 
 back to the fifth Century and to show us the barbarian 
 Chieftains and their followers, and around and in the 
 midst of them those institutions of the old Roman world 
 that were left standing after the incursions of the invaders 
 had subsided the vast organization of the Church, the 
 Roman municipal towns, the pervading traditions of 
 Roman Jurisprudence, Roman Civilization, and the like.. 
 Tracing downwards the course of these institutions in a 
 series of brilliant and minutely-worked pictures, we see 
 how they moulded and modified each other as they lay in 
 the dark fermenting-vat of those far-off centuries, until 
 they emerged at last into the full light of Feudalism. 
 Starting afresh with this new arrangement of the original 
 elements, we follow them downwards still further with 
 him, and see them colliding, dissolving, shifting, and re- 
 combining, until, after various alternations of fortune, the 
 Kings gain the ascendancy, and Monarchy everywhere 
 arises out of the decaying elements of the old Feudal world. 
 All this, together with the causes that led up to the
 
 HISTORICAL. 38 1 
 
 Reformation ; how it extended into many countries, shifting 
 the balance of political power ; uniting here with the spirit 
 of political liberty and weakening the power of the kings, 
 and there being stamped out with an iron heel, until the 
 whole culminated in the French Revolution ; is set forth 
 with masterly analysis and power. But although in this 
 work Guizot has shown the most keen and comprehensive 
 insight into the action and reaction of political and social 
 forces, and although he has traced with rare acuteness 
 the special concrete causes that have united in producing 
 the various phenomena of European civilization in its 
 different stages, he has not attempted to carry up these 
 causes to a higher plane, to sublimate them, as it were, 
 .and deduce from them the great Laws of Progress in 
 igeneral. 
 
 Following in the wake of Comte and Guizot, is Buckle, 
 who, in his History of Civilization, has given us a Theory 
 of Progress differing both in its methods and in its results 
 from those of his illustrious predecessors. Instead of 
 endeavouring, like them, to determine the comparative 
 influence exercised on Civilization by the different aspects 
 of human thought and culture, whether abstract or 
 concrete, his aim is to cut his way through the midst of 
 the obscuring entanglements and complexities of the 
 problem, to its central and controlling factor. Accord- 
 ingly, after ranging with comprehensive glance over the 
 great civilizations of the East and the West, he observes, 
 that while the Physical Powers and aspects of Nature in 
 the East are of so stupendous and overwhelming a 
 character as to stimulate the Imagination of man at the 
 expense of his 'Reason; in the West they are so com- 
 paratively feeble and insignificant, as to encourage him to lift 
 his dispirited head and dare to utilize and conquer them 
 for his own benefit and use. And furthermore, he asserts 
 that the knowledge of the Laws of the World which 
 springs from this action of the Intellect of Man on Nature, 
 is not only the most important factor in Civilization,
 
 382 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 but that it is, in fact, the only one ; the Scientific 
 Scepticism bred of such knowledge being the sole agent 
 in destroying those gloomy Superstitions which have not 
 only retarded the advance of knowledge for centuries, but 
 have been the fruitful source of those wars and perse- 
 cutions which once made up the greater part of the 
 miseries of mankind. And hence it is, that instead of 
 regarding Civilization as the product of the co-operation 
 of many positive agencies, each of which has played a 
 definite part in Human Progress, Buckle regards it as the 
 result rather of the victory of one only real and positive 
 factor Science over a host of negative and purely 
 obstructive agencies. But, in thus making Science the 
 central and moving pivot in his Theory of Progress, he 
 completely ignores and repudiates those great agencies 
 of Religion, Government, Literature, and the like, which 
 are universally regarded as among the main elements in 
 the work of civilization. Religion, for example, which, 
 alone, as we saw in a former chapter, can give harmony 
 to all the powers of man intellectual, emotional, and 
 moral as he passes through the various stages of culture ; 
 and which (as being a necessity of the human mind) is 
 essential to Progress, is regarded by Buckle as a mere 
 superstition, a phantom of the imagination bred of 
 ignorance and fear, the baleful parent of those perse- 
 cutions which have been among the greatest drawbacks 
 to civilization. War, too, which is now generally 
 admitted to have been, especially in early times, one of 
 the greatest of all civilizing agencies, both by preserving 
 the best races in the struggle for existence, and by 
 welding small and primitive tribes into large and complex 
 communities, is regarded by him as simply a pure 
 obstruction, a long unmitigated curse. Government, too, 
 and Literature, he considers, have retarded Progress 
 more than they have advanced it ; the former, as being 
 a dreary alternation of blunders and the repeal of 
 blunders ; the latter, as being the repository and vehicle
 
 HISTORICAL. 3 8j. 
 
 of more Superstition and Falsehood than of Reason and 
 Truth. Even Morality itself, he thinks, has done more 
 harm than good, by having oftener armed ignorance with 
 bigotry and hatred, than truth with prudence and love. 
 In thus representing Civilization as a conflict between the 
 God of Light on the one hand, and the numberless brute 
 Powers of Darkness on the other between Science and 
 Superstition, Scepticism and Credulity, Reason and 
 Faith rather than as a consensus of various positive 
 factors, all of which have co-operated in the great work 
 and are connected with each other by definite laws, 
 Buckle has, in spite of his great range of knowledge and 
 his splendid powers of generalization, betrayed a want 
 of insight into the secret structure of the World and of the 
 Human Mind which has maimed his Theory of Progress 
 and left it partial and incomplete. 
 
 Carlyle, too, like Buckle, has aimed rather at finding 
 the central factor in the problem of Civilization than at 
 determining the relative value of the various factors and 
 the Laws by which they are connected. But instead of 
 finding, like him, the central and operative factor in 
 Science, he finds it in the work of those Great Men whose 
 lives he announces to be the condensed summary of 
 Universal History, as being the patterns and in a sense 
 the creators of all that the general mass of men have 
 contrived to do or to atttain men of whose inner 
 thoughts all that we see standing accomplished in the 
 world is but the embodiment and outward material 
 result. But if we enquire more particularly as to what 
 manner of Great Men he believes them to be who thus 
 sum up in themselves the progress of Civilization, we shall 
 find that they are not, as with Buckle, the men of Science, 
 who have made the great discoveries, or the Inventors 
 and Men of the World, who have applied these discoveries 
 to the arts, comforts, and conveniences of life. It is true 
 that he recognises these in a sort of way, and, like the rest 
 of us, is grateful to them for having given us the steam-
 
 384 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 engine, the telegraph, and the printing-press; and for 
 having clothed, lodged, and fed us better than our an- 
 cestors of earlier times, But did our boasted civilization 
 consist only in these and the like material comforts, it 
 would be to him but a small concern, a matter of grief 
 and anxiety rather than of gratulation, as tending in the 
 long run, by the luxury it must engender, to eat out the 
 moral fibre of man. No, it is not such men as these that 
 call forth his admiration and reverence : not these, on 
 whose memory he loves to dwell when contemplating 
 the progress of humanity ; but those, rather, who, by their 
 personal momentum and the burning enthusiasm they 
 have aroused in the great masses of men, have been able, 
 like Luther and Mirabeau, to sweep away centuries of 
 abuse and falsehood, to stamp out revered and hoary 
 idolatries, like Mahomet and Knox, or, like Goethe, to 
 place a ray of spiritual sunlight so centrally in the soul of 
 man as, in an age of wintry scepticism, to vivify anew 
 sentiments and emotions that for want of a suitable object 
 had long lain cold and dead. Compared, indeed, with 
 such influences as these on the hearts and souls of men, 
 all mere advances in the comforts and arts of life show 
 poor and mean ; and when pressed so as to be made 
 the subject of exultation, as in our own day they so often 
 are, call forth his well-known sarcasms on the ' march of 
 intellect/ ' the progress of the species,' and the like. I 
 am aware that he constantly reiterates that the chief 
 good of man lies in the knowledge of the Laws of God 
 and obedience to them; but if we are to gather the mean- 
 ing of the phrase from his mode of applying it, we shall 
 find that it consists in the knowledge of the Spiritual 
 Laws of Man his obligations, duties, and the like and his 
 subjection to them, rather than in that knowledge of the 
 Physical and Organic Laws of Nature, which, when 
 applied to the arts of life, Buckle regards as the soul and 
 essence of Progress. And thus it is that Carlyle, by 
 lifting one great factor of Civilization to such a height as
 
 HISTORICAL. 385 
 
 to cut off its organic connections with all the rest, has left 
 the solution of the problem of Human Progress still to be 
 found. 
 
 And lastly comes Herbert Spencer, with his exhaustive 
 '* System of Philosophy,' in which the progress of Civiliza- 
 tion figures merely as one illustration more of a law that 
 has necessitated alike the formation of solar systems from 
 misty nebulae ; of mountain, and river, and meadow, from 
 the original murky, incandescent ball of earth ; and of the 
 bright and infinite variety of animal and vegetable forms 
 from a few primitive simple germs : the great Law of 
 Evolution, whereby all things that exist or will exist must 
 pass from the simple to the multiform, from the 
 incoherent to the coherent, from the indefinite to the 
 definite ; the law which, while determining not only 
 that the egg with its simple uniform composition, shall 
 gradually unfold itself into the chick with its complex 
 coherent and definite system of functions and organs ; that 
 the worm, "striving to be man, shall mount through all the 
 spires of form ; " determines also that Human Society itself, 
 which starts from the condition in which each family 
 wanders about alone and isolated, and each man is at 
 once warrior, hunter, fisherman, tool-maker, and builder, 
 shall pass through the nomadic stage, in which several 
 families are united under a kind of chieftainship, where 
 the king is at once priest and judge, and the priest at once 
 judge and king, and eventuate in those complex settled 
 states of Modern Civilization, where labour is carried to 
 its minutest subdivision, where families, instead of being 
 isolated and independent, are bound to rely on the labour 
 and industry of others for the supply of their most urgent 
 needs, and where kings and popes, prime-ministers and 
 archbishops, chancellors and judges, with all their long train 
 of official dependents, although each having special and 
 separate functions to perform, are at the same time all 
 bound together in that one great organic unity known as 
 the State. But it is to be noted that, although Mr. 
 
 2 C
 
 386 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 Spencer has shown that the progress of Civilization thus 
 depends remotely on the Law of Evolution, he has not 
 shown us the immediate factors by which it has been 
 produced, and the way in which they have united to- 
 produce it. And hence it is that while his sketch of the 
 progress of Civilization in all its various aspects of Govern- 
 ment, Religion, Literature, and Art is of the greatest value 
 speculatively , that is to say, as illustration and corrobora- 
 tion of a great Theory of the World, it is of little or no use 
 practically, that is to say, as showing the immediate factors 
 by which Civilization is produced, and by the action of 
 which it is to be advanced or retarded. For as all 
 progress must be the work of human beings who are 
 acted on by human motives; which motives, again, have 
 more or less reference to surrounding circumstances and 
 conditions ; it is evident that what is wanted in a Theory 
 of Progress is the laws by which these immediate factors of 
 the problem these human actions, human motives, 
 surrounding conditions, and the like are connected and 
 related ; not the mere fact that they follow from some 
 remote, abstract, and impersonal law like that of Evolu- 
 tion. In a certain sense, it is true, we may say that 
 everything that happens is a result or effect of the Law of 
 Evolution, but for all practical purposes it would be as 
 useless to explain the progress of Civilization by this law, 
 as it would be to explain by it a disease of the chest, an 
 earthquake, a stagnation in the cotton trade, or a rise in 
 the value of gold. And thus it is that Mr. Spencer, by 
 attaching the progress of Civilization to a remote, abstract,, 
 and impersonal law of Nature, rather than to immediate^. 
 human, and concrete causes, has left the problem still 
 unsolved. 
 
 The above are, perhaps, the most able attempts that 
 have been made to solve the Problem of Human Progress. 
 But, notwithstanding the splendid powers to which these 
 attempts bear witness ; notwithstanding, too, that in each 
 of them some one or more sides of the problem have been
 
 HISTORICAL. 387 
 
 developed with a richness and fertility of illustration that 
 leave nothing to be desired ; still, as all-round theories 
 of Civilization, they are all, as we have just seen, more 
 or less incomplete. The way, therefore, still remains 
 open for a fresh attempt, to which, indeed, the subject 
 itself invites us by its very reach and magnificence. If I 
 should, therefore, be bold enough to venture to sup- 
 plement the labours of predecessors so illustrious, it will 
 rather be in the direction of giving greater unity and 
 cohesion to the various factors of the problem, and of 
 exhibiting more truly their essential interdependencies 
 and relations, than of adding further to the very full 
 and detailed historical researches which these thinkers 
 have brought in support of their respective views. For 
 not only would this lie beyond the scope of a chapter 
 which, from its necessary limits, must deal rather with 
 principles than with details, but it would also run counter 
 to the position which I took up in the chapter on History, 
 viz., that the Past must not be allowed to dictate to 
 the Present, but must be kept strictly in subordination 
 to it ; and that all historical results, except the most broad 
 and general, are to be regarded rather as appendage 
 and illustration of principles drawn from a just insight 
 into To-day, than as furnishing the main basis and 
 support of these principles. My aim, therefore, shall 
 be to give such a skeleton and outline of the progress 
 of Civilization as will exhibit clearly the great laws on 
 which it depends, with just sufficient illustration to show 
 the relations and connexions of the great factors by which 
 it is produced.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 
 
 AT the outset of this chapter, it is necessary to remark 
 that no theory of Civilization can have any coherence or 
 vital unity until the Central and Controlling Factor is 
 determined, that is to say, the factor to which we must 
 address ourselves if we are to advance or retard it. On 
 this very point, however, there is the widest difference of 
 opinion, not only among those systematic thinkers who 
 have grasped the subject in its entirety, but also among 
 the great masses of men, who, although they may not 
 consciously have formulated their opinions on the sub- 
 ject, nevertheless show by their actions and sympathies 
 the direction of their thoughts. But these opinions, 
 divergent though they be, will all fall into two broad 
 categories. On the one hand, there are those who think 
 that Civilization is to be best advanced by primarily 
 addressing the hearts and imaginations of men, by 
 appeals to their consciences, and exhortations to duty and 
 self-sacrifice or, in a word, by the preaching of Morality ; 
 on the other hand are those who believe that it is to be 
 best advanced by ameliorating the Material and Social 
 Conditions of men, in the belief that, out of the improved 
 conditions, the higher morality will arise of itself. 
 Speaking broadly, we may say that the Church represents 
 the view that Civilization is to be best advanced by the
 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 3 $ 
 
 preaching of Duty and Morality ; the State, the view that 
 it is to be best advanced by improvements in men's 
 Material and Social Conditions. Now, as it is to the last 
 of these views that I give my own firm adhesion, I have 
 selected as representatives of the former view, not, as 
 might perhaps be expected, Theologians, whose opinions 
 from the nature of the case might be discredited from the 
 very outset, but the two most powerful and profound of 
 its philosophical exponents Comte and Carlyle. Not 
 that either of these distinguished Thinkers altogether 
 ignores those Material and Social Conditions to which I 
 attach so much importance, but, rather, that they believe 
 the preaching of Duty and Morality to be the primary and 
 efficient factor in Progress, while regarding ameliorations 
 in the Material and Social Conditions as of but secondary 
 and subordinate importance. 
 
 That Comte does not altogether ignore the influence 
 exerted on Progress by the mode of distribution of 
 material, political, and social power, is shown in the fact 
 that, in his scheme of Polity, he advocates the Republican 
 form of Government as superior both to the Monarchical 
 and Imperial forms ; he proclaims the necessity of equal 
 education, of personal freedom, of freedom of opinion, 
 and the like. But, how comparatively subordinate in 
 importance he considers these and the like distributions 
 of Material and Social Power is seen in the way in which 
 he ignores those political 'checks and balances,' which, to 
 Statesmen and Political Thinkers generally, are of supreme 
 and paramount importance. Manhood-suffrage, for 
 example, as a defence against the abuse of power by one 
 class over another; the ballot-box, as a defence against 
 the abuse of power by one individual over another ; the 
 election of representatives by the people themselves, 
 rather than by any one clique or section of the people ; 
 the more equitable distribution of wealth, and the like ; he 
 believes to be quite unnecessary. His reason is this : 
 he regards Humanity in general, and each State in
 
 390 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 particular, not as a mere aggregate of individuals, each of 
 whom is to follow his own interests and what he calls his 
 rights ; but as an organic whole, in which classes and 
 individuals have their own special duties and functions to 
 perform. From this it of course follows that all posi- 
 tions of trust and authority, all property, capital, and 
 even labour itself, instead of being individual possessions, 
 individual rights to be disposed of according to individual 
 interest or caprice, are to be regarded rather as public 
 trusts, to be used for the public benefit. If this be the 
 case, why, then, should we be so anxious to have a vote to 
 defend our rights, when the question is not what are our 
 rights, but what is our duty ? Why should we have a 
 ballot-box to secure us from intimidation, when the object 
 of all is not to suppress our opinion, but to get the free 
 expression of it ? Why should working-men, and those 
 who do not understand affairs, wish to have a voice in the 
 management of these affairs, when those who do 
 understand them are working, not against the working- 
 man, but for him ? But even supposing which indeed 
 he thinks to be improbable after so convincing an 
 argument that these different classes of men will not do 
 their duty; that men of authority will not hold their 
 position and talents, capitalists their property and wealth, 
 and working-men their labour, for the public good, but for 
 their own interests rather ; what then is to be done ? By 
 reverting to the object he has in view, we shall anticipate 
 his answer. His object, as we have seen, is to unite men 
 and draw them together ; not to make them independent 
 of each other. Hence, instead of arming each individual 
 or class with sufficient power material, political, or 
 social to defend its own interests, as against the world, he 
 would exhort all classes alike to do their duty in the name 
 of that Humanity whom they serve, trusting to the 
 pressure of an enlightened Public Opinion to bring the 
 recalcitrants to submission. In this course he is 
 strengthened by his doctrine, that Progress in the Past
 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 391 
 
 has been due to the exhortations to duty, morality, and 
 self-sacrifice which religions have enjoined ; and therefore 
 that it is likely to be the same in the future. 
 Fetischism, for example, he asserts to have given rise to 
 that moral union between children born of the same 
 parents, known as the Family ; Polytheism, to that wider 
 moral union between members of different families, 
 constituting the City or State ; and Catholic Monotheism, 
 to that still wider union among the different States of 
 Europe, known as Christendom. And just as Progress 
 in the Past consisted in the widening of this moral union 
 from the Family to the State, and from the State to 
 Christendom; so Progress in the Future will consist in 
 extending this union, so as to embrace all nations, tribes, 
 and conditions of men. And, further, as in the Past 
 these results have been attained by the preaching of Duty 
 and Morality, in the name of the gods of the different 
 religions ; so, in the Future, like results will be attained by 
 preaching Morality and Duty in the name of Humanity. 
 
 Let us now turn to Carlyle. Like Comte, he does not 
 altogether deny the influence of Material and Social Con- 
 ditions on Progress; like him, too, he regards them as but 
 of secondary importance ; indeed, in his later days, this 
 feeling grew so strong with him that he could not speak 
 of them but with contempt. He admits, it is true, that 
 adjustments of Material and Political Power between the 
 various classes of a nation are sometimes useful, and even 
 necessary ; but, believing, with Comte, that the State is 
 an organic whole, in which each man should be bound to 
 his neighbour by duty and affection, and not an aggregate 
 of commercial Ishmaelites each with his hand against his 
 neighbour, he trusts more to direct appeals to the hearts 
 and consciences of men (with the occasional and judicious 
 use of the rod in obdurate cases) than to any indirect 
 benefit likely to arise out of ameliorations in their con- 
 ditions of life. In support of this, he tells us that all the 
 great World-movements that have announced new eras
 
 392 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 and epochs have been due, in point of fact, not to any 
 mechanical re-arrangements of Political, Material, or Social 
 Forces, however cunning and skilful, but to the dynamical 
 agency of direct appeals to the great primary elements of 
 man's nature, his Love, Wonder, Enthusiasm, Religion- 
 Was not Christianity, he asks, due to moral suasion and 
 the direct preaching of the word ? Were the Crusades 
 not due to the rapt preaching of one man ; the French, 
 Revolution to the enthusiasm for Liberty, Country, Right? 
 If, then, the Progress of the World is due to these high 
 moral influences, we shall not be surprised to learn that he 
 holds all such low mechanical contrivances as ballot- 
 boxes, extensions of the suffrage, political emancipation,, 
 liberty, equality, and the like, in even greater contempt 
 than Comte. Ballot-boxes and extensions of the suffrage, 
 he contends, can only make men more independent of 
 each other; whereas, his object is to bind them more 
 closely together. And, unless you can emancipate yourself 
 from your ' pot of heavy-wet,' what, he asks, is the use of 
 your ' liberty to do as you please ? ' To emancipate a 
 slave as a remedy for the tyranny of an unjust master is 
 the last thing that would occur to him. If the master 
 maltreated his slave, he would exhort him to be more just 
 and humane; if that did not do, he would depose him. If 
 the slave did not do his duty to his master, he would also 
 exhort him, and, if that failed, he would whip him.. 
 Between exhorting, on the one hand, and whipping, or, in 
 the last resort, shooting, on the other, the whole of Carlyle's 
 political and social philosophy lay. For the maintenance 
 of Order he would rely on the whip ; but, for Progress, on 
 exhortations to duty and morality. Such is the desperate 
 alternative to which Carlyle is reduced, through having lost 
 faith in the steady growth of virtue and civilization which 
 follows the removal of the hardships and disabilities of 
 man's material, political, and social lot. 
 
 Now, to this doctrine of Comte, Carlyle, and, indeed, of 
 the Religious World generally the doctrine that Progress
 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 39 j. 
 
 is to be forwarded rather by exhortations to Duty and 
 Morality, than by the gradual amelioration of the Material 
 and Social Conditions of men I desire to offer the most 
 strenuous opposition. So important, indeed, is it that the 
 point should be scientifically determined (not only as being 
 the preliminary to any coherent Theory of Progress, but 
 as being the indispensable guide to all true Action) that no 
 stone should be left unturned to bring the matter to a 
 definite issue. My own endeavour, accordingly, shall be 
 to give reason and support to my strong conviction that 
 all exhortations to Duty and Morality, and to Elevation and 
 Expansion of mind, in the face of Material and Social 
 Conditions adverse to the growth of these virtues, are a 
 waste of time and human energy; and are as absurd as to 
 expect a rich and vigorous fruitage from trees or plants 
 in spite of adverse conditions of soil. The total result 
 depends, it is true, on the quality of the plant, as well as 
 on the condition of the soil ; on the quality of the men as 
 well as on their conditions of life; but then to alter the 
 quality of the plant, the quality of the race of men, is 
 beyond human power, except through the slow and 
 indirect process of enriching the soil, of ameliorating the 
 conditions of life out of which the higher virtues are to 
 grow. And, moreover, so unconsciously do men act or* / 
 this principle in their ordinary life, that it would be af 
 once admitted, were it not for the religious sentimentalism 
 and partiality with which the opposite view is regarded. 
 My immediate aim, therefore, shall be to lift the question 
 entirely out of this slough of prejudice and sentimentalism, 
 and place it on a firm and rational basis. 
 
 In the first place, then, you will observe that parents 
 act on this principle of the intimate dependence of 
 Morality on the Conditions of Life, when they make it their 
 most serious concern to withdraw their children from bad 
 influences and temptations, and place them under con- 
 ditions and surroundings favourable to the growth of 
 morality; in the sure belief that in the long run the 
 influence of the material and social surroundings is more
 
 394 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 potent than any exhortation. Government, again, acts on 
 this principle when, impatient with the slow progress 
 made by preaching, it takes the morality of the people 
 into its own hands, and seeks to elevate it by improving 
 the dwellings of the poor and educating their children, by 
 closing casinos, and regulating the sale of intoxicating 
 liquors. The Press does homage to this principle when it 
 assures the Peace-preservation Society, with a sneer, that 
 it may preach its high and beautiful ideal till the crack of 
 doom, but that there will be no chance of its realization 
 until the general condition of Europe material and social 
 is already prepared for it. The Americans acted on this 
 principle when they ruptured by force the bonds of the 
 slave; knowing well that, notwithstanding the ministers 
 who preached, and the slave-owners who accepted the 
 Gospel of Christ, and his last and greatest commandment 
 to love one another, no justice, no expansion of mind and 
 heart, could befall the slave under conditions so harsh and 
 unequal. Even the serfs of the Middle Ages could be set 
 free as a body, only when the slow changes that had been 
 ; going on in their material condition had made them 
 dangerous, and their quickly successive risings in many 
 countries had made their emancipation a political necessity. 
 Until then, not all the preaching of the omnipotent 
 Catholic Church coul'd avail. Carlyle, as we have said, 
 declares that it was by high exhortation and appeal that 
 the necessary enthusiasm was generated, whereby were 
 inaugurated and carried through to their successful issues 
 those great epoch-making movements of the world the 
 Christian Religion, the Crusades, the Reformation, and 
 the French Revolution. Now, although my admiration 
 for Enthusiasm in general, lies far on this side of infinitude, 
 regarding it, as I do, as worthy rather of animals that go 
 in herds, than of human souls walking solitary and erect 
 in the self-contained dignity of their essential natures, I 
 nevertheless cheerfully acknowledge its immense import - 
 -ance as a motor power in human affairs, and admit the
 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 395 
 
 splendid sacrifices to which when once it is kindled it 
 frequently gives rise. I have observed, however, that it is 
 not to be aroused by appeals to mere Abstract Morality, 
 however noble and transcendent, but only by appeals to 
 such wants, sympathies, and aspirations as are on a level 
 with men's stage of Material and Social Progress. The 
 Christian Religion, for example, arose out of the wants of 
 the time ; falling on the desiccated hearts of the weary and 
 down-trodden like dew ; opening up to the enslaved the 
 hope, perhaps even in their own lifetime, of that Kingdom 
 of Christ wherein there was neither bond nor free; and 
 offering to the refined and pure in heart, in the midst of 
 the abominations associated with the Pagan deities, an 
 object of adoration that was holy and without sin. With 
 minds thus prepared, a spark only was necessary to wake 
 into burning enthusiasm, hearts on whom the sublimest 
 preaching of the high and moral Plato would have fallen 
 cold and dead. The Crusades, too, arose out of the wants 
 of the time ; the men of that age seeing in them the con- 
 summation of their dearest ideals, ambitions, and hopes. 
 Had it not been so, Peter the Hermit might have gone on 
 exhorting to this hour, ' the rapt soul,' as Carlyle says, 
 ' looking through the eyes of him,' but with as little effect 
 as if he had exhorted those rude and rapacious barons to 
 go, sell all, and give to the poor to lay down their arms 
 and cease from bloodshed and rapine. The Reformation 
 arose out of the wants of the time ; and was not only the 
 sudden maturation of the prolonged and accumulated 
 immoralities and scandals of popes, monks, and clergy, 
 but was also the open expression of aims, aspirations, and 
 ideas set free by the invention of printing and by the 
 revival of letters in Italy and Germany; the splendid 
 services rendered by Luther, his high appeals and daunt- 
 less attitude, being the exciting and immediate, but 
 secondary and subordinate, cause. And lastly, the French 
 Revolution arose out of the wants of the time ; springing 
 as naturally out of the degradation and misery into which
 
 396 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 the people had been plunged by misgovernment and extor- 
 tion, as Irish agrarian crime. To believe that any exhor- 
 tation and appeal, however rapt and sublime, could have 
 levelled the Bastille and precipitated the atrocities of ' the 
 Terror ' among a people comfortable and contented in 
 their material and social surroundings, is a dream of the 
 closet only. 
 
 But the proposition that the controlling factor in- 
 Progress is the Material and Social Conditions, and not, as 
 so many believe, Moral Exhortation and Appeal, rests on a 
 profounder basis than any mere catalogue of instances, 
 on the law, viz, that in this world things make their own 
 relations, that is to say, their own morality, in spite of 
 politicians or priests. Now, should this turn out to be 
 a true law, it will not only settle speculatively the basis 
 on which Civilization rests, but will also furnish a prac- 
 tical guide for action. Its importance, therefore, cannot 
 be overestimated. For if the moral relationships of the 
 great masses of men their ideals, opinions, and habits of 
 thought grow directly out of their Conditions of Life, it is 
 evident that, instead of sitting invoking a lofty morality 
 which will prove as obstinate as the fire invoked by the 
 priests of Baal, it behoves us, rather, to set to work 
 resolutely to bring about that amelioration in the material 
 and social conditions without which the higher morality 
 cannot arise. The reader will therefore, I trust, permit me 
 to indicate some of the regions of life in which this great 
 and important law is manifest. ^ 
 
 In the first place, then, we all know that the Chemical 
 Elements, for example, make their own laws in spite of 
 our wishes ; and that the ways in which they will combine 
 depend entirely on their own secret affinities and repul- 
 sions. In the same way, too, as Goethe has so well 
 portrayed in his Elective Affinities, Marriage makes its 
 own laws; and, although religion and the customs of 
 society may compel an outward decorum, the inner 
 spiritual relations between a man and his wife will be
 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 397 
 
 determined by their respective natures, in spite of the 
 prayers of parents or the invocations of priests. Com- 
 merce, again, makes its own laws, not only in a material 
 sense supply and demand adjusting themselves to each 
 other, in spite of the appeals of moralists and philan- 
 thropists but morally also ; for did the law not interpose 
 its vigilance, the number of knaves would bear as 
 accurate a proportion to the number of dupes as supply 
 does to demand. Crime makes its own laws ; highway 
 robberies dying out only when improvements in the arts 
 of life, by facilitating detection, made it too risky for men 
 to pursue this nefarious calling. Belief, even, makes 
 its own laws, in spite of exhortations to faith ; all 
 kinds of superstitions and impostures religious, medical, 
 and popular dying out more and more as the light of 
 advancing knowledge penetrates the great body of the 
 people. Indeed, look where we will, we shall see that our 
 Morality, our Moral Ideas, our Practical Beliefs, all grow 
 out of our material and social surroundings. In England, 
 for example, so firmly do we (who are accustomed from 
 our infancy to see men distributed into a hierarchy of 
 classes) believe that a man's calling practically sums up 
 the inventory of his mind and character, that by most of 
 us it is regarded as practically final. When we learn that 
 a man is a nobleman, a professional man, a mechanic, a 
 small tradesman, a policeman, or the like, we feel that we 
 know the essential point about him, and can, without 
 much loss or injustice, dispense with further particulars. 
 It has been frequently observed that people living in the 
 country differ in their sentiments and sympathies from 
 people living in the town. Even the fact that a man has 
 a wife and family makes him look at life from a more or 
 less different standpoint from those who are without these 
 ties, makes him lay a different emphasis on certain duties 
 and obligations, and impels him to treat seriously, sides of 
 the moral law which before his marriage he held lightly 
 or altogether ignored. Society makes its own laws; and
 
 3 g8 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 you will observe that its condition at any given time 
 determines the character of the Government and the 
 legislation it will obey. 1 If the mass of the people are 
 educated, independent, and self-reliant, the Government 
 can gather to itself but little power ; if they are brutal, 
 ignorant, or unaccustomed to help themselves, the good 
 and great will Call in vain for liberty. \ Every man who 
 betrays his trust, shirks his responsibilities, or breaks the 
 law, helps to tighten the rope around the neck of his 
 neighbour, takes taxes out of his pocket for magistrates 
 and police, and heightens the general rate of credit.' And 
 lastly, Property makes its own laws, and, as most men 
 own "more or less personalty, there is little difficulty in 
 getting the commandment, ' Thou shalt not steal," gene- 
 rally respected ; but landed property being the heritage of 
 the few, cries of confiscation are heard on all hands; the 
 exhortations to morality apparently having but little 
 effect, and landlords in their selfishness not perceiving 
 until it is almost too late that, if you wish men to respect 
 the property of others, you must, if possible, give them a 
 little for themselves. 
 
 How true it is, that things in this world make their 
 own morality, will be still further seen if we take a broad 
 oversight of society in general. So great, indeed, is 
 the unity and intimacy, the harmony and proportion, 
 existing among the various social and moral products 
 of any given epoch, that, accompanying a particular stage 
 of Culture, you may confidently predict a corresponding^ 
 stage of Manners, of Customs, of Morality, of Religion. 
 For, just as in those old geologic periods, when Vegetation 
 was on a gigantic scale, so likewise was Animal Life 
 the monsters of the forest being contemporaneous with 
 the corresponding monsters of the land and deep, the 
 megatheria, ichthyosauri, and the like so with brutal 
 customs, brutal sports, brutal indulgences, there will 
 always be found brutal duties, brutal punishments, brutal 
 religious rites ; the very heroisms and sensuous mortifi-
 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 399 
 
 cations of men assuming a coarse and brutal form. No 
 one of these can burst the fetters by which it is reined in, 
 and start forward on an independent course of its own, 
 but each must wait for the rest to come up into line, prior 
 to a general advance ; and all are controlled by the 
 Material and Social Conditions. So preponderating, 
 indeed, is the Central Genius of the world, that all undue 
 elevations or depressions that may chance to arise are 
 quickly incorporated and lost in the general mass, and 
 whirled into the general rotundity. But, as Culture 
 advances, a general amelioration and expansion takes place 
 all along the line. Not only does Knowledge draw after 
 it, as we have already seen, a change in Religion, but 
 it precipitates from itself a world of new arts, inventions, 
 comforts, and conveniences, which, by altering the 
 relations in which men stand to each other, breed new 
 customs and ways of life, new morals and habits of 
 thought ; these, again, react on Religion and modify the 
 attributes of the deities, which, again, are reflected back on 
 human affairs, and modify human conceptions of Morality 
 of rewards, punishments, and the like. But Knowledge 
 itself, which seems as if some lucky discovery might 
 almost enable it to jump, as it were, into the sky, is really 
 confined by the same adamantine barriers of necessity; 
 no department being able to advance until all its auxili- 
 aries have come up. The laws of Astronomy, for example, 
 had to wait for their discovery until the telescope had been 
 invented ; the laws of Life till the microscope ; and both 
 telescope and microscope, again, had to wait for the 
 discovery of the laws of Optics. The laws of mechanics, 
 of chemistry, of heat, and electricity had to be discovered, 
 before we could get those great inventions which have, 
 been the glory of the present century the telegraph and 
 the steam-engine ; and these, again, had to arrive before 
 it was possible to get that sub-division of labour and 
 distribution of its products, that general diffusion of 
 knowledge and intelligence, which have so far equalized
 
 4 oo THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 the conditions of life for the great masses of men as to 
 have prepared the way for a still further advance. And 
 thus, while the world rolls on to its destiny, without leaps 
 or relapses, round and full in all its parts, at each stage of 
 its evolution it breeds its own morality, its own habits of 
 thought, and life. 
 
 But nothing will so fully enable us to realise how 
 completely the Morality, Progress, and Civilization of the 
 world are dependent on its Material and Social Con- 
 ditions, as the endeavour to attain at any given time a 
 .higher ideal than the existing state of these conditions 
 will warrant. It is an ideal, for example, quite in- accord 
 with modern habits of thought, that all men should have 
 a fair and equal arena for the exhibition of their talents, 
 .and that the best places should fall to the best men. 
 Why, then, can we not get the ' Supremely Able Man' at 
 the head of affairs, as Carlyle so earnestly desired ? The 
 -answer is, because of the obstacles presented by the 
 .existing Material and Social Conditions. In the first 
 place, there is no machinery at present existing whereby 
 you could be sure of having found the best man ; and, in 
 the second place, even if you were sure you had secured 
 him, you could not get people to believe he was the best 
 man, unless he were surrounded by those factitious 
 advantages of wealth, position, or title, in which his 
 natural fitness must needs be clothed before it could 
 catch the imaginations of men. Among ourselves, 
 indeed, with the Times and other public guides hounding 
 on the ' Philistines,' and advising them not to hesitate to 
 choose foxhunters and aldermen before any thinker or 
 writer however exalted, it would be next to impossible. 
 And, even were all these difficulties removed, the ideas of 
 the ' Great Man ' would have to run in line with the 
 interests, aims, and ideas of the great body of the people, 
 or, were he Solon himself, he must dismount and abdicate. 
 Again, what higher form of Government can there be 
 .than that in which the People manage their own affairs,
 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 401 
 
 with just enough officialism to keep the peace and do 
 justice between all classes ? Why, then, have the nations 
 groaned under the public and private tyranny and ex- 
 tortions of Emperors and Kings for thousands of years ? 
 The answer, as before, is, the Material and Social Con- 
 ditions. The Roman world would have fallen to pieces 
 from internal dissension, had not supreme power been 
 placed in the hands of one man, who, although often 
 using his power for base and personal ends, was never- 
 theless able to restrain the dissensions of lawless and 
 rapacious patricians, and keep the peace among a number 
 of heterogeneous nationalities ready to pounce on one 
 another ; thereby saving the Empire from those greater 
 evils of anarchy, civil war, and political dismember- 
 ment, which would otherwise have inevitably ensued. And 
 as for the hereditary principle of Kingship, although 
 affording, perhaps, the worst of all chances for finding 
 the man most capable of governing, it nevertheless gave 
 order and stability, in times when to have put up the 
 Government for competition, would have been to face the 
 certainty of civil war, with all its attendant horrors and 
 atrocities. Besides, what chance was there of getting rid 
 of Emperors and Kings when you had to reckon with a 
 Public Opinion which believed that these same Emperors 
 and Kings were Heaven-descended, and ruled by a ' right 
 divine' not to be questioned by man. Can anything, 
 again, be more right and natural than that Character and 
 Virtue should take the highest place in public and private 
 esteem ? Why, then, do they, in this country, for 
 example, take a lower social status than Wealth and Title 
 founded on the ownership of land ? In the first place, 
 because of the practical impossibility of estimating with 
 certainty in any given case what character and virtue 
 there may be in a man; whereas, wealth and title are 
 palpable and patent to all, and can be appraised without 
 difficulty. In the second place, because, even were it 
 possible to read the height of a man's virtue in his face, 
 
 2 D
 
 402 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 as we do the degrees of heat in a thermometer, still,. 
 virtue in its naked state is not what men actually love 
 most to honour ; on the contrary, where the material and 
 social power is, there will admiration be centred, and 
 qualities that are so cheap and common that, like char- 
 coal, any old woman may possess them, cannot catch the 
 vulgar imagination like distinctions which, from their 
 rarity and splendour, have come, like diamonds, to fetch a 
 very different price in the market. Again, is not a high 
 state of Education, Refinement and Culture, throughout 
 the whole range of society, an ideal which all high-minded 
 men love to contemplate ? Why, then, has it not been 
 realized ? The answer still lies in the Material and Social 
 Conditions in the fact that while the great mass of men 
 have to spend the livelong day in degrading bodily labour, 
 a general culture and refinement are impossible. But, 
 even were this obstacle removed, another obstacle equally 
 formidable would delay the realization of our ideal. For 
 were the wisdom of the ages to be doled out in penny 
 newspapers, in the present state of culture the majority 
 would not have interest enough to read it ; what they 
 would read being of a kind that would not raise them in 
 the scale of culture, but would leave them where they are. 
 And thus it is that the triumph of Political Liberty, the 
 apotheosis of Character, Intellect, and Virtue, the universal 
 diffusion of Education and Culture all of which are ideals 
 the future has to realise are delayed by reason of the 
 obstacles presented by existing Material and Social Con- 
 ditions, and by the ideas and habits of Thought bred of 
 these conditions. Indeed, the longer I live the more 
 clearly I perceive that, when there is any ideal which 
 everybody wishes to see realised, but towards which no 
 active step is taken, the reason is, either that under the 
 circumstances it is impossible to get it, or that the 
 difficulties that would have to be removed would cause 
 more harm than the good that would accrue. Men 
 wanted to know all about the stars long before it was
 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 403 
 
 possible that they could know about them ; they wanted 
 to be transported from place to place more quickly than 
 was possible. But when the telescope and locomotive 
 engine were invented, the impossible became possible, 
 even actual. In the same way, there are many laws 
 which everybody would like to see enacted, but which 
 cannot be passed, either because in the existing material 
 and social conditions there is no machinery to enforce 
 them, or because the machinery, in its working, would 
 do more harm than good. We all want Peace, but can- 
 not have it so long as boundaries are unsettled, race 
 antipathies active, and national self-interests strong. We 
 all want Truth, but those sides and aspects of it which 
 have to pass through the seven-fold diffracting media of 
 self-interest, prejudice, bigotry, tradition, pride, authority, 
 and self-love, are not likely soon to be reached. 
 
 Mark, too, how men's Ideals (and, in consequence, what 
 they will imitate and aspire to) are bred immediately of 
 their Material and Social Conditions. In the early his- 
 tory of the world, when tribes and peoples had to bend all 
 their energies to conquering other tribes or preventing 
 themselves being conquered by them, the power of aggres- 
 sion and self-defence became the most important circum- 
 stance in the life of the tribe. The fighting man was, of 
 necessity, the hero and beau -ideal the one that was most 
 loved, admired, and emulated. On the other hand, the 
 physically weak, however high in mind or character, was 
 despised, hated, or ignored. As these tribes became by 
 conquest gradually welded into nations and warfare, in 
 consequence, became more organized tactics, cunning, 
 and diplomatic power shared with personal prowess the 
 esteem of men ; until now, in countries like America, that 
 have no foreign policy and little apprehension of war, the 
 mere soldier is held in but little regard ; the higher ideals 
 of business sagacity and shrewdness, knowledge of the 
 world and practical ability, holding the first place in the 
 admiration of the great body of the people. And thus we
 
 404 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 see that, in each instance, the qualities that are most 
 admired, and the deeds that are thought most honourable, 
 follow directly out of the necessities of men's Material and 
 Social Conditions. An indignant friend of mine, disgusted 
 that men's ideas which should be infinite and free are 
 the slaves of the basest material necessities, declares that 
 if the safety of the Empire depended on the man that 
 could stand longest on his head, not only would that man 
 be regarded as the greatest national benefactor which 
 would be just but his particular talent would, in the 
 vulgar mind, take precedence of all intellectual ability, 
 however splendid and sublime. 
 
 Not only is the law that things make their own 
 morality a true law, but it is the one that is everywhere 
 practically believed, laid to heart, and acted on. Why, 
 but for this reason, should we judge the goodness or 
 badness of all governments by the answers they give to 
 such questions as these in whom does the Executive 
 Power lodge, how is it instituted, and by whom appointed ; 
 by whom and on what tenure are judges and magistrates 
 elected ; is the Church dependent on the State or inde- 
 pendent of it ; in whose hands are the appointments 
 to the high offices of the Army and Civil Service ; how 
 are the penalties of crimes graduated ; what machinery 
 exists for the detection of crime ; what Classes are to 
 possess the franchise, and the like ? Is it not the aim of 
 wise Statemanship to have the various material and 
 social interests and powers in the community so fairly 
 represented, that no one shall unduly preponderate, but 
 that there shall be a fair chance of justice being done all 
 around ; none but doctrinaires dreaming that, without 
 these ' checks and balances,' the great ends of public and 
 private justice can be secured by merely leaving them to 
 the individual conscience, or by appeals to mere morality ? 
 It is the same, too, in our private affairs; the great 
 questions regarding the individual, being have you 
 money or authority, or not ? are you in a position of
 
 THE CONTROLLING FACTOR. 405 
 
 command or obedience, of dependence or independence ? 
 the answer determining the relation in which we shall 
 stand to you and the attitude we shall assume. 
 
 How little, indeed, men practically regard all mere 
 exhortations to Morality, when their Material and Social 
 position is secure, is seen in the fact that while the good 
 and patient old Church goes thrashing out her well-worn 
 platitudes from Sunday to Sunday on the beauty of 
 humility, and wreaks her empty denunciations on pride 
 and other aristocratic sins, men of wealth and title 
 in whose eyes, be it observed, this self-same pride is the 
 particular jewel to which wealth and title minister, and 
 for which, indeed, they exist continue to repose in peace 
 in their luxurious pews, knowing well that their dearly- 
 beloved pride need fear no humiliation so long as they 
 can keep the land and title out of which it is perenially 
 renewed ; but when men of insight, leaving the Church to 
 go her own way, strike at Morality through the Material 
 and Social Conditions, and propose to alter the tenure of 
 land on which this whole superstructure of pride and 
 precedence rests, the affrighted lords perceiving that the 
 ark has at last been touched, start in terror from their 
 repose, as if some ominous raven had appeared in the 
 sky, boding ill to all. 
 
 We might go on multiplying indefinitely illustrations 
 of the principle above enunciated, but enough will, I trust, 
 have been adduced to show that in this world things 
 make their own morality ; and that, therefore, the Material 
 and Social Conditions of men are, if not the sole cause, at 
 least the controlling factor in Civilization and Progress.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE EQUALIZATION OF CONDITIONS. 
 
 The next question that naturally arises is, what special 
 change takes place in the Material and Social Conditions 
 to render a further advance in Civilization possible at any 
 given point ? Now, to answer this question aright, it is 
 desirable, perhaps, at the outset to get a clear idea of 
 what an advance in Civilization really means. If, 
 therefore, we consider the various stages through which 
 the world has passed in its progress from barbarism up to 
 the present time, we shall find that the movement of 
 what is called Civilization has been along two distinct 
 lines the one, an upright vertical line, the other a lateral 
 horizontal one. The upward vertical movement is seen in 
 the gradual rise of men's ideals from that Prowess and 
 mere Brute Courage which was the ideal in the early life 
 of all peoples (and still is so in the lowest savage races), 
 up through the times when Military Strategy, Cunning, 
 and Diplomacy shared with personal courage men's 
 admiration, onward to the present day, when the most 
 serious sections of the most civilized nations have as their 
 ideal, that Intellectual Power, which, in its many different 
 aspects, has produced all that is great and admirable in 
 civil and national life. Except among the lowest savage 
 races, and the lowest class in civilized communities, mere 
 Physical Prowess as an ideal may be said to have com-
 
 THE EQUALIZATION OF CONDITIONS. 407 
 
 pletely passed away ; the Military Ideal, too, with all its 
 accompaniments, is fast dying out, in spite of its 
 temporary recrudescence among some of the foremost 
 nations, owing to material and political necessities ; and 
 now, Mental Power, in its many various applications, 
 whether as practical wisdom, political sagacity, artistic, 
 literary, or philosophical power, is supreme. But, besides 
 this upward movement which characterizes advancing 
 Civilization the rise in men's ideals we note a lateral 
 horizontal movement, as seen in the more equable 
 administration of justice, the wider arena for intellect and 
 character, the wider distribution of wealth, the wider 
 diffusion of knowledge, the wider extension of liberty and 
 equality. Carrying with us this double movement' viz., 
 the upward rise of Ideals, and the lateral extension of 
 Justice and Right as that by which advancing Civilization 
 is characterized, it will be expedient, if we wish to find 
 out what changes take place in the Material and Social 
 Conditions of the world to render successive advances in 
 Civilization possible, to follow the rule laid down in the 
 chapter on History, and instead of groping blindly through 
 the mazes of historical detail, to look rather for the clue 
 to what we want, in the world of To-day ; in the full 
 .assurance that if we can discover the conditions that 
 render Progress possible To-day, in a world which we 
 know and can directly inspect, the same must have been 
 true in the days of Moses, of Caesar, of Charlemagne 
 days that we cannot directly inspect, and that we do not, 
 and can never really know. 
 
 If, then, we look fixedly into what actually takes place 
 .around us, we shall find that the first condition of 
 Progress and Development, of free unimpeded Growth 
 and Expansion, whether among individuals, classes, or 
 nations, lies in the practical equalization of the Material 
 .and Social Conditions under which they live. 
 
 I remember, many years ago, reading in Thucydides of 
 .the relationships existing among the petty States of
 
 4 o8 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 Greece about the time of the Peloponnesian War, and of 
 how, if one State was more powerful than another, the 
 most frivolous excuses were seized upon by the more 
 powerful State to settle differences by the sword ; 
 whereas, if the States were about equal in power, the 
 differences were compromised or referred to reason, justice^ 
 or arbitration. I have often thought since then, how true 
 the same thing is To-day, and what a pregnant illustration 
 it is of the way in which the world progresses. In 
 Europe at the present time, the blessings of liberty have 
 been secured to the smaller States by the equalizing of 
 their conditions with those of their neighbours ; if not 
 directly by the equalizing of Material Power, indirectly by 
 what comes to the same thing, viz., the equalizing 
 influence which arises from the uncertainty as to how 
 surrounding Powers will in any complication take sides, 
 and the belief that the status quo will not be allowed to be 
 seriously disturbed. In this way the independence and 
 expansion of Belgium, Holland, Denmark, and Switzerland 
 have been assured ; while, on the other hand, the old 
 Mahommedan Turk, who has lost his own power, and 
 largely the power of securing for himself allies, is the prey 
 of every interested or passing foe. Indeed, in the present 
 state of European feeling, it is questionable whether 
 the huge armaments that are kept up to a practical 
 equality of fighting strength are not as strong a guarantee 
 for peace as anything short of general disarmament can 
 be. Even the old 'balance of power,' as it was called, 
 which so haunted the brains of European Kings during 
 the last century, and which each sovereign, on the 
 slightest rustle in the political atmosphere, started up 
 sword in hand to defend, played an important part in the 
 orderly progress of Civilization. Although existing only 
 in the mind, like those superstitions of the imagination 
 which have daunted men whom nothing mortal or visible - 
 could subdue, or like that gauze which bound the Fenris- 
 wolf which chains of steel could not secure, it proved a
 
 THE EQUALIZATION OF CONDITIONS. 409* 
 
 real guarantee for stability, and that by equalizing the- 
 fears to which all were exposed. It is this practical 
 equalizing of the Conditions of European States that has 
 been the real guarantee of justice, and not those appeals 
 to Morality, which, as in the declaration of war by Russia 
 against Turkey, are the more effusive, the more eager the 
 intent to devour. 
 
 It is the same, too, with the relations between the x 
 different ' classes ' of a nation, as it is between different 
 nations. What, for example, are those checks and- 
 balances which all wise governments strive to secure, but 
 confessions of the fact that only by balancing, that is to 
 say, by equalizing, the Material and Political powers of the 
 various classes in the community, is the progress and free 
 expansion of each possible ? When justice has been* 
 denied to any one class or interest in the State, practical 
 statesmanship sets itself, by wise expedients, so to aggran- 
 dise the power of the injured interest, as to place it on a 
 practical equality with its antagonists ; knowing well, that 
 when an equality of Mights has been secured, an equality 
 of Rights will surely follow ; those who believe that appeals 
 to High Morality are sufficient of themselves, being justly 
 regarded as mere theoretical dreamers and doctrinaires. 
 The Revolution of '88 threw the political power of the 
 country into the hands of the Nobility, and thenceforward 
 the old despotisms of the Tudors and Stuarts passed 
 away, never to return ; the Reform Bill, in turn, threw the 
 power into the hands of the Middle Classes, and the 
 class legislation of the Aristocracy heard its doom in the 
 repeal of the Corn Laws ; and now that the balance of 
 power is thrown into the hands of the Lower Classes, we 
 may safely prophesy that the interests of these classes 
 will no longer be ignored. Even now, what a contrast 
 there is between the flattering tones of the Upper Classes 
 towards the working class as a body, and their arrogant, 
 contemptuous demeanour towards the individual working- 
 man ? The reason is, that between the upper and lower
 
 4 io THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 classes, there is a practical or potential equality of political 
 influence, and therefore a practical equality of political con- 
 sideration ; whereas, between the individual member of 
 the upper classes and the individual working-man there is 
 neither material nor social equality, and therefore neither 
 equality of status nor of social right. Again, look at 
 Trades-Unionism. What is it but the result of the deep 
 conviction in the minds of the working-men, that so long 
 as they are disunited, the masters (by their concentrated 
 superiority of power) can defeat them in detail, but that 
 when once combined, they will have put themselves so far 
 on an equality of power with their masters, as to negotiate 
 with them on more equal terms. And that Trades Unions 
 have not only increased the wages of the working-man, but 
 have also greatly increased his political influence, no one, I 
 think, can seriously doubt. The question whether there 
 shall be a ' strike ' or ' lock-out ' in any large branch of 
 industry depends now, not so much on the abstract 
 justice of the demand (for, after all, in any case in which 
 both parties must be influenced by self-interest, which of 
 them is to decide what is right ?) as on the opinion 
 of the respective parties on such questions as these, 
 how long can the masters hold out ; how long can the 
 men ; how important is it that the work in hand should 
 be finished ; can others be brought in to replace those who 
 .go out; and the like. It is now generally admitted that 
 the Land League, by encouraging and supporting the 
 tenants in their refusal to pay unjust rents, has helped 
 materially in gaining justice for Ireland. Since the Indian 
 Mutiny, it is said that the religious and other prejudices of 
 the natives have been more respected than formerly. 
 And historians have confessed that the successive risings 
 of the serfs in the different European countries, during the 
 thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, did more to abolish 
 serfdom and mitigate its hardships, than all the centuries 
 of exhortation of the Roman-catholic Church. The con- 
 science of the individual is no myth, and high virtue and
 
 THE EQUALIZATION OF CONDITIONS. 4 n 
 
 renunciation are found everywhere, among all classes, 
 .and in all countries ; but to expect that the pure rays 
 of truth and justice will be able to penetrate (when 
 opposed to self-interest) the horny opaqueness which 
 always characterizes the consciences of men united into 
 classes, corporations, or guilds, by any preaching of 
 morality and justice, is a dream. 
 
 It is the same between individuals as it is between 
 classes and nations. There is no blinking the fact, that 
 unless we can find either in law, public opinion, or our 
 -own resources, some power on which we can rely in our 
 needs, some power which will put us on equal terms with 
 our adversaries, we feel as if naked and at the mercy 
 of the elements, and cannot rest until we have found 
 in some ally the needed counterpoise. In the early days 
 of California, when the public law was not sufficient to 
 protect from injustice, and when, owing to the shifting 
 and uncertain manner of life, there was no recognised 
 '* code of honour ' to which men could appeal, professional 
 gamblers on sitting down to play placed their revolvers 
 on the table by their sides ; and so, by equalizing the risks 
 to which each one by dishonesty was exposed, practically 
 superseded the necessity for the use of the weapons. We 
 all feel how unfavourable is material and social inequality 
 to that higher intercourse which is necessary to mental 
 and moral expansion. Indeed it is one of the commonest 
 observations, that the constant intercourse of superiors 
 and inferiors is detrimental to the highest mental and 
 moral interests of both, either by crushing originality 
 on the one hand, or by leading to self-satisfaction on 
 the other ; and that only in the society of eqiuils can we 
 find that atmosphere which the more delicate qualities of 
 our nature require for their growth and expansion. 
 What chance could there have been for the slave to 
 develop those higher qualities of the mind in which Civili- 
 zation consists, while the material and social relations 
 between himself and his master were so unequal ? Even
 
 4 i2 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 the filial relation itself, strong as it undoubtedly is, cannot 
 altogether be trusted ; for it is frequently observed that 
 parents, when they grow too old for work, feel more com- 
 fortable in the possession of an income that will ensure 
 their independence, than in relying on filial affection 
 alone. 
 
 But enough of instances drawn from the Present. - 
 Let us now return to the Past, and there, too, we shall 
 find, as was to be expected a priori, that each advance 
 in Civilization has been rendered possible only by the 
 equalization of the Material and Social Conditions. 
 
 The earliest condition of mankind is, of course, largely 
 lost in fable ; but recent researches and the analogies 
 furnished by savage tribes in our own day, afford good 
 ground for believing that the primitive man wandered 
 apart with his wife and family, living by fishing and 
 hunting, knowing no law but his own will, acknowledging 
 no authority but that of physical strength, and as regard- 
 less of human life as of that of the animals he killed for 
 food. From this primitive condition where Brute Force 
 was the only law, the first advance towards a rude civili/a- 
 tion would naturally begin, when the presence of a common 
 enemy, animal or human, rendered some kind of union 
 between these wandering families necessary for the common 
 defence. For this a certain mutual confidence w^as abso- 
 lutely essential; as all power of action would be frittered 
 away if each man had to live under the constant suspicion 
 that his own life was not safe from the treachery of his 
 neighbour, or his wife and chattels from the dishonesty of 
 those left behind to guard them. Now, as from the 
 nature of the case no such confidence was possible, the 
 power to enforce the necessary honesty and self-restraint, 
 and to protect each from the treachery of his fellows, 
 would naturally be placed in the hands of the man chosen 
 as Chief; who would punish the dishonest, restrain the vio- 
 lent, and interpose his personal power to protect the weak 
 and defenceless. In this way all disputes would naturally
 
 THE EQUALIZATION OF CONDITIONS. 4:3 
 
 come in time to be settled by the personal arbitrament 'of 
 the Chief himself, and not by the old methods of physical 
 force. And thus a rude form of Justice would be estab- 
 lished, and those moral obligations which could never 
 arise so long as men's lives and fortunes were at the 
 mercy of brute strength and passion, would have a chance 
 to take root and grow. Among those nomadic tribes, 
 again, which we everywhere meet with in the East at the 
 beginning of recorded history, justice is administered in a 
 rough and summary way by the Patriarch who, in theory 
 at least, is the oldest descendant of the common ancestor 
 of the tribe. And as these nomadic tribes settle into 
 independent towns, justice is still administered, as we 
 read in the Old Testament, by the King in person sitting 
 at the gate. Coming to modern times, when from de- 
 tached chieftains with their followers a nation arises, the 
 King makes peregrinations from place to place, as Sir 
 Henry Maine relates of our own King John, hearing 
 complaints and administering justice. But when, at last, 
 from the natural growth of nations, together with the 
 incorporation in them of conquered peoples, it became 
 impossible for any one man to transact all the business in 
 person, the work had to be delegated to subordinates 
 appointed by the king. Now this necessity, which took 
 the administration of justice out of the hands of the King 
 in person, was the main condition by which it was purified 
 and made more impartial. For while the King sat in 
 person, Justice was rough and summary, and too often 
 coloured by prejudice, passion, and self-interest ; but 
 when his delegate took his place, unwritten laws and 
 customs became embodied in written and definitive codes ; 
 Law became more equable and precise, and, as the inter- 
 preter dared show no bias, could be applied to all alike, 
 without passion, prejudice, or self-interest. The old 
 Roman proconsuls were not, as might appear, an excep- 
 tion to this rule. It is quite true that they regarded the 
 provinces of the Empire much in the same way as the old
 
 4 i4 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 Anglo-Indian proconsuls of last century regarded India,, 
 viz., as a rich field for plunder. But these proconsuls, it 
 must be remembered, were .not the delegates of a common 
 Superior \vhose interest it was, when not personally con- 
 cerned, to do justice to all classes of his subjects alike ; 
 but were rather members of the Ruling Class sharing the 
 spoils between them. For, when the Empire replaced 
 the Patrician Senate, and the provincial Governors became 
 responsible to the Emperor himself, this private extortion 
 and corruption had to cease ; and for many ages, indeed 
 until the Empire began to decline, justice was much more 
 purely administered. The next step higher in the ad- 
 ministration of justice was taken when the affairs of 
 nations became so wide and complex that the great 
 principle of the division of labour had to be applied to 
 Law itself, as to all other matters, and the Judicial 
 Authority had to be separated from the Executive, and 
 placed on a distinct independent footing. Then began 
 that scientific study of the law by a special class, from 
 which resulted that finer equity and procedure, that finer 
 analysis of crime and motive, that finer adjustment of 
 punishment to offence, in which modern Scientific Judica- 
 ture consists. 
 
 The above is a rough outline of the way in which 
 Justice has advanced to higher and higher stages of 
 purity and precision during the long progress of Civiliza- 
 tion. But what I want to point out here, is, that these 
 successive advances in justice and morality were rendered 
 possible only by the successive equalization of the Material 
 and Social Conditions. Unless, for example, the weak 
 man could command the power of the Chief, so as 
 practically to put himself on an equality of power with the 
 strong man, it is evident that disputes would never have 
 been referred to arbitrament, but would have continued 
 to be decided, as before, by brute strength alone ; and so 
 the first step in Civilization would have been rendered 
 impossible. Again, it is still further evident, that, unless
 
 THE EQUALIZATION OF CONDITIONS. 415 
 
 men's causes could be removed from the personal arbitra- 
 ment of a Chief or King, with its incident liability to be 
 distorted by prejudice, passion, or self-interest, to the 
 pure and impersonal decision of a written code, and so the 
 conditions of the decision be rendered equal, the finer 
 kinds of justice would have been impossible ; just as it is 
 in the undisturbed air of the study that you judge the 
 real weight of the orator's argument, and not while 
 listening to his voice and under the influence of his 
 presence and personality. How true, indeed, it is that 
 there can be no rise in Morality and Civilization until the 
 Material and Social Conditions are equalized, may be seen 
 in those great historical cataclysms which from time to 
 time have thrown the civilized world back into barbarism,, 
 and those backward parts of the world which remained 
 in barbarism long after all around was civilized. One or 
 two of the more striking of these instances will, I trust,, 
 serve to make the truth apparent. When the Roman 
 Empire, for example, went down under the incursions of 
 the Barbarians, an analogous state of things was brought 
 about to that which characterized primitive society. The 
 face of the Empire was dotted over with rude warriors,, 
 each living separate from the rest, knowing no law but 
 his own will, and acknowledging no authority but that of 
 brute force. The fact that, instead of wandering about 
 in isolated families from place to place in search of food, 
 they were aggregated into isolated groiips, each made up 
 of chief, retainers, and menials, does not affect the general 
 analogy ; on the contrary, it strengthens the conclusions 
 we wish to draw. For the result of this condition of 
 things was as might have been anticipated there was no 
 law but that of brute force, no test of right but the ' trial 
 by combat,' no proof of innocence but the ordeal by water 
 and hot iron. And what I desire especially to point out 
 is the fact, that, in spite of the continued and persistent 
 efforts of the Church and the trading community ta 
 introduce legal forms in the place of private war ; in spite,
 
 4 i6 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 too, of the ' Truce of God,' which gave a moment's 
 breathing-time between the successive combats; this 
 barbarous condition continued unabated, until one of the 
 larger fiefs, taking advantage of the prestige and power 
 which the support of the Church and of the rising 
 Communes gave it, was able to make itself, first, the arbiter 
 between contending fiefs, and afterwards, master of them 
 .all ; and so, by equalizing the conditions of all alike, made 
 it possible and expedient to substitute the forms of Law 
 for Private War and Personal Revenge. It was the same, 
 too, with the border-land of England and Scotland, which, 
 owing to the want of a common Authority to equalize the 
 conditions of both sides, remained in a state of barbarism 
 for centuries after other parts of the kingdom were 
 reposing in peace and security under equal laws. There, 
 too (and in the Highlands down to an even later date), as 
 in primitive society, raiding and counter-raiding were 
 the serious occupation of life, Might was the only Right, 
 and human life was of as little account as that of the 
 cattle which they drove to and fro in their midnight 
 excursions. And there, also, this condition of things 
 continued unchanged until the Crowns of the two king- 
 doms were united in one person ; and so, the conditions of 
 .all alike being equalized by coming under a common 
 Authority, all alike found it expedient to settle their 
 differences by the peaceful forms of Law. Even at the 
 present time, the same midnight marauding is a con- 
 stant occurrence on the border-land of India and Afghan- 
 istan, and, indeed, may continue for an indefinite time, as 
 no common authority is likely soon to arise to put it 
 down. 
 
 In endeavouring thus to show how Justice and Morality 
 have been rendered more precise and equable in the 
 onward progress of Civilization, the reader will have 
 observed that I have assumed, hypothetically, and for the 
 sake of simplicity, that Society has been of one homo- 
 geneous texture throughout. This, of course, is not the
 
 THE EQUALIZATION OF CONDITIONS. 417 
 
 fact; on the contrary, during the greater portion of 
 recorded history, Society has been broken up into ' classes,' 
 separated by dividing lines as distinct almost as those 
 which separate nation from nation. In Europe this was 
 the result of conquest ; the barbarian chieftains who over- 
 ran the Roman Empire forming among themselves an 
 aristocracy resting on Material Power, and degrading the 
 old inhabitants to a condition of vassalage or serfdom. 
 In the East, on the contrary, the division of society into 
 Castes was founded on the despotism of the Priestly Class ; 
 whose influence, again, rested not directly on Material 
 Power, but rather on a Social Power consecrated by a 
 Religious Belief, more potent than arms of steel. The 
 consequence, as we know, was that between these various 
 ' classes ' there was no equality of rights, privileges, or 
 duties. What was virtue in the one class was not virtue 
 in the other. The moral code of the Brahmin was not 
 that of the Sudra ; of the lord, that of the serf; of the 
 master, that of the slave. The drunkenness that was a 
 disgrace to the Spartan, was not so to the Helot. The 
 ' point of honour ' which was essential to the ' gentleman/ 
 was not essential to the peasant ; while, on the other 
 hand, the vulgar honesty demanded of the serf was 
 despised by the lord. The life of a baron or bishop was 
 assessed at a different figure from that of the vassal or 
 serf. The Brahmin considered his own life worth that of 
 twenty Hindoos. Extortion, murder, adultery, and theft 
 were crimes when perpetrated on one another by members 
 of the same class, but peccadilloes when perpetrated by the 
 superior classes on the inferior. Even when at last a 
 practical equality of rights and privileges was established 
 between the different classes, the Emperor or King still 
 had his special exemptions. He could do no wrong, and, 
 as in the case of the Roman Emperors, could kill, 
 debauch, imprison, and confiscate, with impunity, and at 
 his own sweet will. Even in America, where there is a 
 broad and general equality, the line is still drawn between 
 
 2 E
 
 4*8 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 the whites and the weak or servile sections of the com- 
 munity the negroes, half-castes, and Indians. But what 
 I have specially to point out here is, that the gradual 
 extension of Justice, until in the most favoured nations it 
 has swept away in a large degree all these barriers of 
 class distinction, has been brought about by the gradual 
 equalization of the Material and Social Conditions. In the 
 East, of course, there is as yet no approach to equality, 
 either in the material or social conditions of the various 
 classes; and, in consequence, the old regime remains practi- 
 cally unchanged from what it was centuries ago. In 
 Europe and the West, on the contrary, the gradual 
 approach to equality of power between the upper and 
 lower orders, as bodies, brought about, first, Personal 
 Liberty, and then Political Equality ; and now nothing 
 remains but that Social Inequality, which we should know 
 a priori must always more or less exist so long as there is 
 any tangible inequality between individuals in material 
 and intellectual po\ver. 
 
 As the first great characteristic of advancing civilization 
 the diffusion and extension of equal justice, equal rights, 
 equal privileges, equal opportunities, from man to man, 
 from class to class, from people to people is rendered 
 possible by the gradual equalization of the Material and 
 Social Conditions; so the second great movement that 
 characterizes it, viz., the ascension of men's Ideals from 
 Brute Force, upwards to the coronation of Intellect and 
 Virtue, is made possible only by the very same means, viz., 
 the successive equalization of the Material and Social 
 Conditions on higher and higher planes. 
 
 We have already seen in a general way how Justice was 
 rendered more precise and equable, more scientific and 
 impersonal, between the members of the same community ; 
 and we have good ground for believing that a high degree 
 of excellence in its administration was arrived at, at a very 
 early period in the world's history. We should, perhaps, 
 have expected that the rise in men's Ideals would have
 
 THE EQUALIZATION OF CONDITIONS. 419 
 
 culminated with equal rapidity. But such was not the 
 case. Law, order, justice, the respect for reason and for 
 moral claims, were recognized between the individuals 
 composing the same community or people long before 
 they were recognized between the different communities 
 or peoples. The antagonism of races and religions, the 
 indeterminateness of areas and boundaries, absolutely 
 necessitated ages of confused strife before such a balance of 
 power could be arrived at as would afford time for peace 
 to give stability and definiteness to landmarks, and the 
 force of right to old prescription and custom. The 
 consequence was, that the law of Might continued to be 
 the arbiter between contending nations, long after the law 
 of Right had firmly established itself between the individuals 
 composing these nations. And as men's Ideals and 
 Ambitions are bred of national necessities, the ideal of 
 Physical Strength and Military Power dominated the world 
 long after Civilization had reached the point where such 
 :an ideal might naturally have been expected to disappear. 
 We have already seen, that when men wandered about 
 :as separate families, with no weapons but the rudest, 
 Physical Strength and Courage were the most essential 
 qualities for self-preservation, and were, in consequence, 
 .admired more than aught else; as maybe seen even at the 
 present day among the savage races. As these families 
 became united into tribes and peoples, powers of Combina- 
 tion, of Organization, and of Foresight, became necessary 
 in addition ; and hence more or less of these qualities were 
 indispensable in the popular heroes, as may be seen in the 
 Homeric poems. As time went on, and the growth and 
 complexity of Society necessitated the division of labour, 
 War became a separate profession, and the Military Class, 
 except in the East and for special reasons, more or less 
 subordinated all other classes of the community to itself. 
 The serf, the peasant, the tradesman, the artisan, all 
 more or less existed for its convenience and aggran- 
 dizement. But from the time that Gunpowder was
 
 420 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 invented, fire-arms became accessible to all ; and for the 
 first time the physically weak were put on a practical 
 equality with -the physically strong. Physical strength 
 could no longer be made a ground of distinction ; and the 
 result was, that although Military Power still remained the 
 supreme object of ambition, Personal Prowess, as such, 
 from that time onwards ceased to be the main ideal of 
 man. For it is a law of the human mind, that no thing 
 can be made an ideal and object of ambition to men, 
 unless it affords them a ground of distinction and 
 inequality. In eating, drinking, walking, reading, the 
 multiplication-table, and the like, men can practically 
 attain to an equal degree of excellence. These accomp- 
 lishments afford no point of distinction, and cannot there- 
 fore be made an ideal or aim of life. In the same way, so 
 long as men were physically unequal. Physical Strength 
 offered a chance of distinction, and so could be erected 
 into an ideal ; but when fire-arms practically equalized the 
 weak and the strong, these distinctions became un- 
 important, and so dropped out of the line of men's serious 
 ambitions; surviving, as so many things once useful have 
 done, as sport or ornament merely. Personal prowess, 
 then, having ceased to be men's ideal, Rank and Title, 
 following close behind, stepped into its place. Military 
 prestige, State-craft, and Diplomacy were still the most 
 indispensable concerns of nations, and therefore the most 
 serious objects of aspiration; and Rank and Title being 
 associated in men's minds with these high offices, furnished 
 precisely that point of tangible inequality so necessary to 
 draw on men's ambition, that point of distinction and 
 exclusion not to be found in those pure intellectual and 
 moral powers which any cowherd might possess. The 
 consequence has been, that up to the present day in the 
 old feudal countries of Europe, this distinction of rank, 
 founded on inequalities of birth and fortune, fostered by 
 sovereigns and courts, and accepted by the great body 
 of the people in all humility, is the main ingredient in
 
 THE EQUALIZATION OF CONDITIONS. 421 
 
 those composite qualities which now go to make up men's 
 ideal. And when Rank and Title, too, shall give way to 
 something higher, as Physical Prowess did before them, it 
 will not be because the Nobility themselves will renounce 
 such claims. On the contrary, such is the baseness of the 
 human mind, that there is no distinction, however imper- 
 tinent, frivolous, or obsolete, but would be made a ground of 
 superiority to all time, were there power to enforce it, 
 or did men voluntarily submit to it. But, in this instance, 
 those equalizing agencies which, as we have seen, have 
 levelled so many past distinctions, are again at work, and 
 will no doubt in time level distinctions of rank and birth 
 also. Advancing knowledge and the diffusion of culture 
 among all classes are gradually equalizing men's social 
 conditions; the application of this knowledge to the arts of 
 life, and the wealth accruing therefrom in industry, 
 merchandise, mines, and ships, are gradually equalizing 
 their material conditions. With social inequality levelled 
 by advancing culture, and material inequality by advancing 
 wealth, the Aristocracy will in time cease to be the ideal 
 they have in all old countries for so many ages been. In 
 the younger countries of the world, again, as in America 
 and the Colonies, where these inequalities of birth and 
 fortune have never existed, Rank and Title have never been 
 a practical living ideal among the great body of the 
 people ; Money rather, together with those intellectual 
 and moral qualities that are involved in business, trade, 
 and practical affairs, being the most respected and 
 .admired. And if one were permitted to predict, one 
 might venture to affirm, that when the Money Ideal too 
 shall cease, and higher and purer intellectual and moral 
 powers than those involved in trade and commerce shall 
 become the ideal of men, this, too, like all the rest, will 
 happen when existing Material and Social Conditions shall 
 l>e still further equalized ; directly by the practical equal- 
 ization and distribution of wealth among all classes, so 
 that its possession no longer affords the ground of dis-
 
 422 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 tinction that it does now; and indirectly, by the directness-, 
 with which the pressure of Public Opinion may be brought 
 to bear on all classes and conditions of men, whether for- 
 approbation or censure.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 STATICS. 
 
 UP to this point we have seen that I the Material and 
 Social Conditions of the world are the immediate and 
 determining factors in Progress and Civilization, and must 
 be equalized, before, at any given stage, a further advance 
 is possible. But as the object of this section of the work 
 is to show, not the part played by one factor only, but by 
 all the leading factors, I shall now return and endeavour 
 to trace the separate influence of each, in order the 
 better to see how they work in combination. And, in 
 doing this, I shall merely summarize the results arrived 
 at in preceding chapters, referring the reader to the 
 chapters themselves for a more detailed exposition. 
 
 Broadly speaking, then, the factors in Civilization may 
 be classed under four great heads, which, for the sake of 
 clearness, I have arranged in the following order : 
 
 1. Religion. 
 
 2. Material and Social Conditions. 
 
 3. Religion in its character as Philosophy. 
 
 4. Science Physical and Mental. 
 
 And first, as to the effect of Religion. In a former 
 chapter we saw that the true sphere of Religion was to 
 harmonize the mind of man, by giving satisfaction to the 
 cravings of the intellect, heart, and imagination, at every 
 stage of his advancement. We saw that it satisfied the
 
 424 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 longing of the intellect to solve the problem of human 
 existence and destiny, by giving to each nation or people, 
 according to its stage of culture, a satisfactory answer as 
 to the Cause of the World, and its relation to that Cause. 
 We saw that it gave satisfaction to the moral and 
 emotional nature, by holding out an ideal world, here or 
 elsewhere, in which every impulse and longing, every 
 aspiration of the heart and soul, should have full and 
 complete realization. To the longing for life and dread 
 of annihilation, it held out a personal immortality ; to the 
 desire for sensuous gratification, a heaven of rich and 
 various joys of gardens and fruits, music and maidens, 
 feasting, poetry, and song ; to the pure in heart, a world 
 of high and sweet converse with the good and the blest, 
 and the spirits of the just ; and, lastly, to the down- 
 trodden and oppressed of all ages, it opened up an ideal 
 world of justice and freedom, where there should be no 
 whips, no slaves, no masters, no war, no misery, no want, 
 no subserviency that ideal world of justice, goodness, 
 love, peace, elevation and expansion of mind and heart, on 
 which the mind loves to dwell for consolation and rest 
 amidst the hardships of the actual world. We saw, also, 
 that it enabled men to work, by giving them a sense of 
 security and reliance the sense that they were in the 
 hands of a Power who would lead them in the right path, 
 in a world where, as little was known, all things must wear 
 a hostile or threatening aspect. And thus it is that Religion, 
 like a father fitting out his son for school and college, 
 equips man with those necessities of his spiritual nature, 
 without which he would be unable to confront the tough 
 world, and do the work to which he is appointed. It fur- 
 nishes him with a Philosophy of Things, at a time when, 
 from imperfect knowledge, it would be impossible for him 
 to see through them for himself ; it gives a complete and 
 full prospective satisfaction to those longings and aspira- 
 tions which can find but incomplete satisfaction in this 
 world ; and, in the midst of the dangers by which he is
 
 STATICS. 425 
 
 surrounded, and the thin tenure by which he holds this 
 mortal life, gives him faith, and security, and rest. In a 
 word, it satisfies the higher necessities of man's nature, 
 and so leaves him free to cope with those enterprises and 
 labours which confront him in his passage through 
 Time. 
 
 The second great factor in Civilization is what we 
 have called the Material and Social Conditions. We 
 have already seen that these conditions are the con- 
 trolling factors in civilization ; and that, until they are 
 equalized, the Civilization reached at any given point 
 cannot further advance. I have now only to remark 
 (what indeed has been already so abundantly shown) 
 that these conditions are the immediate causes of those 
 moral relationships existing between man and man, 
 which are the finest criteria, perhaps, of the stage which 
 Civilization has reached in any given country. The 
 Material Conditions give rise to the Political ; the 
 Material and Political, to the Social ; the Material, 
 Political, and Social, to the Moral. Climate, soil, popu- 
 lation, and race, are the Material Conditions which give 
 rise to the earliest inequalities between tribe and tribe, 
 and people and people. The antagonism of these tribes, 
 .and the necessities of aggrandizement or self-defence, 
 give rise to the earliest material and political inequalities 
 within the tribe the division of function and power 
 between the chief and his followers. Conquest, and the 
 incorporation of subjugated tribes, give rise to still further 
 material and political inequalities ; as shown in the 
 hierarchy of emperors, kings, nobility, burgesses, me- 
 nials, and slaves. These inequalities of Material and 
 Political power give rise directly to those inequalities 
 of Social power embodied in such categories and dis- 
 tinctions as high and low born, cultured and uncultured, 
 educated and illiterate, refined and vulgar. And out of 
 these Social inequalities, in turn, have arisen, as we have 
 seen in a former chapter, those Moral inequalities of
 
 426 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 rights, privileges, duties, and obligations, which it is the 
 end of Civilization to remove. But besides being the 
 immediate causes of those moral relationships that exist 
 between man and man, the Material and Social Con- 
 ditions give rise to those ideals of excellence which so> 
 distinguish nations at different stages of their progress. 
 These conditions, as we have seen, directly determine 
 whether Glory, Patriotism, Liberty, Loyalty, Luxury.. 
 Wealth, or Learning, shall be the supreme object of ambition 
 or desire; and whether Personal Prowess, Military Heroism.. 
 Rank, Birth, Business Sagacity, or the purer and higher 
 forms of Mental Activity, shall be the qualities and 
 attributes most emulated, esteemed, and admired. 
 
 We come now to the third great factor in Civilization,, 
 viz., Religion, in its character as Philosophy. 
 
 The true sphere and function of Religion is not, as we 
 have seen, to affect men's actions, but to give rest and 
 harmony to their minds. But the religions of the Past 
 have all contained within them Philosophies of the World 
 around ; and it is these philosophies which have incited 
 men to action, and played a definite part in civilization.. 
 I have already pointed out, that one of the great mental 
 laws on which all religions are constructed is the law that,, 
 when natural causes are unknown, events are and must be 
 ascribed to the agency of wills like our own ; and further,, 
 that it is this law which has not only necessitated the 
 passage of the religions of the Past through the successive 
 stages of Animism, Fetischism, Polytheism and Mono- 
 theism, but which still necessitates that the \Vorld as a 
 whole (if not the relations of the parts, which Science 
 claims as her own exclusive field) shall be referred to some 
 Supreme Intelligence however difficult, or even impossible, 
 it may be to realise the idea in thought. I have now still 
 further to remark, that this same law not only offered an 
 explanation of the World in general, but also of those 
 particular events and occurrences in the world around,, 
 which Science was unable at the time to explain. In a
 
 STATICS. 427 
 
 Avord, it was this law that necessitated that when the 
 scientific cause of a phenomenon or event was not forth- 
 coming, it must be ascribed to some will or deity ; that is- 
 to say, to a religious cause. In this way it happened that 
 Religion came to include within itself a Philosophy, and set 
 itself up not only to harmonise the minds, but to guide 
 the actions of men. Suppose, for example, that some 
 calamity as a pestilence, a famine, or an earthquake 
 falls unexpectedly on a community not sufficiently ad- 
 vanced in scientific culture to be able to discover its 
 natural cause. By the law of the human mind above 
 referred to, it must be ascribed to the agency of some will 
 like their own; and, most naturally, to the anger or male- 
 volence of some offended deity. And, as that anger can 
 only be figured as arising either from the neglect of some 
 of the ordinances instituted to do him honour; from 
 jealousy of rival gods who have stolen the people's 
 worship ; or from the devil having been allowed to have 
 too much his own \vay : it is evident that the only way of 
 removing the effect, viz., the calamity, was by operating 
 on the cause viz., the offended deity. The most natural 
 way of doing this was precisely what we know was done,, 
 viz., to appease and propitiate the deity by more liberal 
 offerings, prayers, sacrifices, expiations, by more frequent 
 attendance on the ordinances of religion, by making war 
 on the peoples worshipping rival gods, and by the more 
 active harrying of the devil in the persons of old witches, 
 sorcerers, and the like. And thus it was, that Religion, in 
 its temporary character as Philosophy, gave rise to those 
 Religious wars and Heresy-huntings, those Witch-burnings- 
 and Inquisitions, which have stained the religions of the 
 Past and disgraced the civilization of the world. A little 
 reflection, however, will convince us that Religion must 
 cease in the future to contain within itself a Philosophy of 
 the world of phenomena; and, in consequence, must 
 cease to produce those unfortunate and lamentable results 
 which have flowed from it in the Past. For as Religious
 
 ^28 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 causes were only wanted to eke out Scientific causes not 
 yet discovered, it is clear that when Science shall cover 
 the whole field of phenomena with its own explanations, 
 Religious causes will no longer be required ; and the 
 actions which we saw to have formerly flowed from the 
 belief in these causes must cease. That part of Religion 
 which was formerly Philosophy will pass over to Science 
 as its proper domain, and so leave to Religion only her 
 true and perennial function of harmonising the mind. 
 
 Such have been the incidental and deplorable (but 
 nevertheless strictly logical) effects ,of Religion in its 
 character of Philosophy, when acting on the ordinary 
 nature and passions of men. If it be asked what has 
 been its proper and steady function, I shall now en- 
 deavour to show, that it has been to maintain the status 
 quo reached at any given point, to support the existing 
 regime and the authority of the powers that be. Now, 
 this will not only prove to have been the case historically, 
 but is precisely what, from a variety of purely d priori 
 considerations, we should have expected. For Religion, 
 although it has really been the effect and result of human 
 thought and culture, nevertheless always laid claim to a 
 supernatural origin to be received by man as a revelation 
 imposed from above. Its decisions, in consequence, must 
 always have had that absolute and final character 
 befitting their unimpeachable authority ; and hence, as it 
 has grown at bottom out of the same root, it has naturally 
 consecrated the successive Temporal regimes with which 
 it has been bound up. It may therefore truly be said 
 to be the great conservative factor the great negative 
 pole in Civilization. That this must be the case will be 
 seen on still other a priori grounds. Religion, in its 
 character of Philosophy, is, as we have seen, the comple- 
 ment of Science. "When Science could explain little, it 
 had to explain much ; when Science came to explain 
 more, it had to explain less ; and now that Science 
 explains almost everything, there is little or nothing for it
 
 STATICS. 42? 
 
 to do. And hence, if, in Civilization, Science is the active 
 the reforming factor, we should expect to find Religion 
 the supplementary and conservative factor. And so, 
 indeed, we shall find it to be, if we take a glance through 
 History; where we shall see that it has initiated nothing 
 new, nothing positive, but has served merely to secure, 
 conserve, and make permanent what has already been 
 brought about by other and more positive agencies.- When, 
 for example, the circumstances of savage life made it neces- 
 sary that wandering tribes should be united under a Chief, 
 and military subordination became necessary to the defence, 
 and even existence, of these tribes ; Religion, in its rude 
 and primitive forms, consecrated his authority, enjoined 
 military obedience, and punished insubordination. When 
 separate tribes became united by conquest into nations 
 and kingdoms, it consecrated the King. W T hen the 
 religious and social relations between these peoples be- 
 came so complex as to render necessary a common code 
 of morality, Religion consecrated that code, and gave it 
 permanence ; as, for example, in the Ten Commandments, 
 When Society constituted itself on a hierarchy of castes, 
 as in the East, it was Religion that consecrated the 
 system and still perpetuates it. It consecrated, too, the 
 old Roman Constitution ; and, so long as the Republic 
 lasted, it upheld the authority of the leading families, by 
 the familiar fiction of their being descended from the 
 gods. In the same way, it afterwards consecrated the 
 Emperors. St. Paul struck the key-note when, in the 
 name of Religion, he counselled men to respect the 
 authority of the Powers that be. The Papacy upheld the 
 Feudal Regime in Europe. The English Church first 
 consecrated the King and upheld his divine right ; then, 
 when the Revolution of '88 threw the balance of power 
 into the hands of the Aristocracy, Religion upheld their 
 political authority, and, indeed, still continues to uphold 
 both their political and social privileges. That the part 
 played in Civilization by Religion in its character of
 
 -430 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 Philosophy, is to consecrate the existing Authority, and to 
 maintain the existing Regime, may be perhaps even better 
 ^een in those apparent exceptions which, after all, only 
 prove the rule. For you will observe that, in every 
 instance in which Religion has consecrated or abetted 
 Revolution, it has always been a religion that was itself 
 in revolt against the Established Religion. When the early 
 Christians refused to fight in the legions of the Roman 
 Imperial Army, it was because the Empire was bound up 
 with that system of Paganism against which they them- 
 selves were in revolt. But, from the time that Christianity 
 became the religion of the Empire, the Christians were 
 the first to uphold the sacredness of the Emperor, and 
 the foremost to defend the Empire against the inroads of 
 the Barbarians. Puritanism first revolted against the 
 established Church, and then against the authority of the 
 King, and sanctioned his execution. It was because 
 Presbyterianism first defied the Episcopal authority, that 
 it afterwards abetted the people in their defiance of the 
 Civil Power. The history of Dissent in England has been 
 a record of antagonism, first to the Church, and then to 
 that conservative and Aristocratic Regime with which it is 
 in close alliance. The same Church which denounced 
 slavery in the Northern States of America, upheld it in 
 the Southern. If the Roman Catholic Church is still 
 hostile to the Republic in France, it is not only because 
 it believes the Republic to be agnostic or atheistic in 
 tendency, but because it believes there is still a chance 
 for the restoration of the old regime ; and also because 
 France has cut herself off from those old feudal mon- 
 .archies which the Church has always upheld. It is 
 significant to find, however, that it has not set itself in 
 opposition to the Republic in America. Once let the 
 chances of a Monarchy in France recede to the vanishing 
 point, or the progress of the world establish Republican 
 forms of government in the leading European States, 
 there can be little doubt that the Catholic Church would
 
 STATICS. 43I 
 
 as stoutly uphold these Republican forms, as it had once 
 upheld their Monarchical predecessors. 
 
 The fourth and last great factor in Civilization is 
 Science. 
 
 With Religion proper, to give that harmony to the mind 
 of man at each and every stage of Civilization, without 
 which he would be torn in twain, and paralysed for any 
 prolonged or useful activity ; with Material and Social 
 Conditions, as the roots out of which the civilization of 
 any given period immediately arises ; with Religion in its 
 character as Philosophy, to secure and consolidate the 
 'Civilization reached, and prevent it from retrogading ; we 
 have now to seek for the impelling factor the factor 
 that pushes on the whole from stage to stage. In the 
 following remarks, it will be my object to show that this 
 factor is Science, in the widest sense of that term ; and 
 that it impels Civilization onwards by a two-fold action 
 by altering and ameliorating the Material and Social 
 Conditions from below, at the same time that it breaks 
 down the successive Religious Philosophies which restrain 
 it from above. 
 
 So universally recognised, indeed, is the influence of 
 Science in altering and improving the Material and Social 
 Conditions of men, that to enter into details would be a 
 work of supererogation. Suffice it to say that, by and 
 through its application to the Industrial Arts, it has given 
 to civilized man all those comforts, conveniences, and 
 appliances which distinguish him from the savage ; those 
 labour-saving inventions which have thrown the emphasis 
 of his energies from physical labour to more and more 
 complicated forms of intellectual activity; which, in a 
 word, have spared his muscles and exercised his brains ; 
 and which one day must largely supersede that monotonous 
 and degrading bodily labour which imbrutes Man and 
 fixes a fatal bar to his elevation in the scale of civilization. 
 Science, too, it is that has given to modern nations those 
 implements of war those engines, guns, torpedoes, and
 
 43 2 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 weapons of precision which now enable the weakest of 
 civilized Powers to rest in security against the danger 
 of a repetition of those barbarian invasions which wrecked 
 the civilizations of the ancient world. And lastly, it is 
 Science which, by the variety of professions, trades, and 
 occupations it has called into being (and by the wide 
 variety of disposition, manners, and culture to which this 
 variety of occupation has given rise) has, by the many 
 sides of the mind it has stimulated into activity, given that 
 finer culture, delicacy, and refinement of mind which 
 distinguish the inhabitants of great commercial and in- 
 dustrial centres from the dull and torpid inhabitants of 
 the country districts. 
 
 But not only has Science been the main agent in alter- 
 ing and improving those Material and Social Conditions 
 out of which Civilization arises ; it has also been the main 
 agent in equalizing these conditions, and so rendering 
 possible a further advance. It was the discoveries of 
 Science that rendered the invention of Gunpowder possible ; 
 the invention of Gunpowder, in turn, put man and man 
 practically on a footing of Physical Equality ; and this 
 physical equality was the main agent in abolishing the 
 condition of Serfdom in which the majority of mankind 
 had previously lain, and in raising men's Ideal above that 
 low level of mere Physical Force, which characterizes the 
 lower civilizations. It was discoveries in Science, too, 
 that lay at the root of those great inventions of the 
 Steam-engine and Telegraph, which, by the facilities they 
 afford for acquiring and diffusing knowledge, are gradually 
 bringing the remotest districts to a practical equality of 
 intelligence political, moral, and social with the great 
 literary, scientific, and political centres ; and which, by 
 bringing up to the general level that dead weight of 
 degraded and half-brutal Serfdom in which two-thirds of 
 the population of Europe a few centuries ago lay, will 
 prepare the way for a further general advance. 
 
 But Science has pushed forward Civilization, not only
 
 STATICS. 433 
 
 positively, by ameliorating the Material and Social Con- 
 ditions on which it is immediately dependent, but 
 negatively, by breaking down those successive Religions, 
 which, in their character of Philosophies, have upheld 
 the existing order of things at every stage, and which, if 
 left to themselves, would, from their claims to absolute 
 authority, have perpetuated this order to all time. In a 
 former chapter we saw that Science was the great agent 
 in determining the widest general phases through which the 
 Religions of the world have passed the successive stages 
 of Animism, Fetischism, Polytheism, and Monotheism. 
 We saw that among the lowest savages, where the 
 natural causes of all but the most ordinary phenomena 
 were unknown, any event a little unusual, in time, place, 
 or occasion, was referred to the will of some spirit ; and 
 almost every tree, stone, or animal, with any peculiarity, 
 was worshipped as the abode of some Spiritual Power. 
 As more and more of these phenomena were seen to 
 exhibit some order and regularity in their occurrence, the 
 number of deities required became less ; and those that 
 remained, of necessity became more remote, and less 
 capricious ; and so we had Polytheism. As time went on, 
 and Science discovered a still greater connexion and 
 interdependence among the phenomena, it became more 
 and more incredible that these innumerable polytheistic 
 deities should have distinct and independent existences 
 and jurisdictions ; and so the deities were cut down at last 
 to two major ones God and the Devil each of whom, 
 however, had various minor and subordinate instruments 
 spirits, demons, and the like to account for the smaller 
 phenomena not otherwise explainable. And now that 
 Science has shown that so much that was formerly 
 considered Evil is really Good, and, through the Industrial 
 arts, has converted so many natural agents that were once 
 evils into benefits ; now that the old idea of Man being 
 naturally wicked and made good only by grace, is giving 
 place to the new idea that he is naturally good, but made 
 
 2 F
 
 434 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 bad by circumstances, the old idea of the Devil, with his 
 minor spirits of darkness, has faded away into invisibility, 
 and has left one Supreme Intelligence alone as the Cause 
 of all things. And thus Science, by explaining more and 
 more of the phenomena of the world by natural laws, left 
 less and less for Religion ; and in consequence fewer and 
 fewer deities were required, until at last one Supreme 
 Being alone is demanded as the Cause and Reason of the 
 whole. 
 
 That Science has advanced Civilization by breaking 
 down those Religious Philosophies which have kept 
 Society stationary, will be still further apparent on an 
 examination of those Eastern Civilizations which have 
 come down to our own day. 
 
 If Science, as we have contended, is the ultimate and 
 essential motive power in Civilization, it will perhaps be 
 inferred that without Science there could have been no 
 great civilizations. But this is not necessarily the case. 
 At any rate, all the outward and imposing marks of 
 civilization may be had with but comparatively little 
 Science. You may have immense and splendid armies, 
 like Xerxes and Darius, mighty empires and cities, 
 legions of vassals and slaves, and all with but little 
 Scientific Knowledge proper; provided only you have vast 
 populations of men, food abundant and cheap, and leaders 
 possessed of those military and administrative talents 
 which, in early societies, require rather quick parts and 
 natural ingenuity than any special scientific attainments. 
 You may have magnificent and imposing temples, gor- 
 geous palaces and monuments, with little more Scientific 
 Knowledge than is involved in the ordinary laws of 
 mechanics ; provided only you have plenty of men at 
 command, plenty of food with which to support them, 
 and plenty of natural materials on which to employ them. 
 The pyramids of Egypt, which are still among the 
 wonders of the world, were the result of the labours of 
 tens of thousands of slaves working for long years ; the
 
 STATICS. 435 
 
 'only Science involved in their construction being such laws 
 of Physics, as by their application to the mechanical arts, 
 gave the power necessary to bring those colossal stones 
 from a distance, and to lift them into their places. But 
 if civilizations so imposing have arisen on so slender a 
 basis of Science, we shall be prepared to find that, at the 
 best, they were hollow and showy, rather than solid and 
 substantial. The mighty monarchies of the East the 
 Assyrian, Babylonian, and Persian may be justly said to 
 have sprung up like mushrooms in a night, and in a night 
 to have passed away. Like the visions of a distempered 
 midnight dream, they chased one another into extinction, 
 and were seen no more. Others again, as India and 
 China, which were protected by their very remoteness 
 from contact with those European influences which have 
 done so much to change the ancient civilizations of the 
 West of Asia and North of Africa, have continued to 
 exist down to our own time in a stationary and stagnant 
 condition. 
 
 Now, what I wish to point out is, that it was the very 
 same Material and Physical Conditions which made these 
 early civilizations so imposing, that were the cause of 
 that want of Science w-hich made them so stagnant, 
 hollow, or transitory. There can be little doubt that the 
 love of Abstract Truth, for its own sake, is very weak 
 ;among the great majority of mankind. It is only when 
 his necessities, his hopes, fears, and unsatisfied desires, 
 impel him, that man will take the trouble to search into 
 things for the purpose of learning their nature and laws. 
 And it is in these efforts made to satisfy his desires, to 
 .get food for himself out of an ungrateful soil, clothes and 
 warmth in ungenial climates, that he gets his first rude 
 and empirical knowledge of these laws. Observation and 
 love of truth gradually co-operate with unsatisfied desire to 
 still further add to this stock of positive knowledge, until, 
 .among the higher civilizations, the memory of what 
 -Science has done for humanity, and the enthusiasm for
 
 436 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 fresh discover}', gradually develop a class of men who are 
 interested in Truth on its own account, and who set 
 themselves apart with conscious purpose to investigate 
 the laws of Nature. But in countries like the East in 
 primitive times, where life could be supported on a little 
 rice, and where men had only to open their mouths and 
 dates and other nourishing fruits would fall into them,, 
 these earliest unsatisfied bodily desires which are 
 necessary to initiate Science and to keep it alive, were 
 not forthcoming; and Science, accordingly, made no- 
 progress. Even when population began to press on the 
 means of subsistence, there was less chance of these early- 
 civilizations getting their desires satisfied by scientific 
 processes for saving labour, or increasing the supply of 
 food, than by migration, war, and conquest. And hence 
 it is that Science in the East has never risen above those 
 simple mechanical principles necessary for common con- 
 veniences and comforts : the making of weapons ; and that 
 empirical knowledge of chemistry and the arts, essential 
 to minister to the pride, pomp, and circumstance of kings. 
 It is this absence of Scientific Knowledge among the 
 Eastern Civilizations, which explains their most impor- 
 tant characteristics notably those of the Civilization .of 
 India viz., the supremacy of the Priests, the institution 
 of Caste, and the stagnation in which both Society and 
 Religion so long have lain. We have already seen that 
 when the Scientific cause of any phenomenon is unknown, 
 it is referred, by a deep law of the human mind, to the 
 agency of some Supernatural will, that is to say, to a 
 religious cause. As Religion is thus the complement of 
 Science, it is evident that in those stages of Civilization 
 where scientific explanations, except of the most ordinary 
 events, are not to be had, religious explanations must 
 occupy the greater part of the field of human interest and 
 enquiry. Religion, in consequence, must have a greater 
 influence in the affairs of life than Science; and the Priests,, 
 who deal with Religion, greater power than the Practical
 
 STATICS. 
 
 437 
 
 men and men of the world, who deal with Science or its 
 
 .application to the arts. But from the time that Science 
 
 is able to explain by natural laws the greater part of the 
 
 operations both of Nature and of Human Life (thus leaving 
 little for Religion to explain), the Practical men whether 
 kings, statesmen, or men of business and trade who 
 
 can then control the ordinary objects of ambition, take 
 the supremacy over the Priests, who can control only the 
 
 occasional issues of life, or its closing scenes. And hence 
 it is that in India, where scientific causes were almost 
 entirely unknown (for reasons which we have just given) 
 the lives and fortunes of men were continually falling 
 within the range and jurisdiction of some deity or other ; 
 and the Priests in consequence who, through their access 
 to these deities, thus indirectly controlled the lives and 
 fortunes of all classes alike, gained that ascendancy which 
 they have maintained down to the present day. And 
 just as among those wandering tribes, where food is 
 precarious, where population is sparse, and where every 
 man is at once his own fisherman, hunter, and 
 tent-maker, the want of Science gives to the deities a 
 small and individual character, principally that of 
 ancestral spirits, and to the wandering medicine-man 
 .and soothsayer who dealt with these spirits, the great 
 authority they enjoyed; so, in countries where population 
 was dense, and where the very swarms of human beings 
 necessitated organization and division of labour, the 
 Deities partook of the vast and imposing character which 
 marked the country and the civilization ; the Priests 
 became a distinct body holding the supreme power ; and 
 Society assumed the simplest form compatible with great 
 bulk and low organization, viz., the division into Castes. 
 That the son should follow the same calling as his father, 
 .and occupy the same position in the social hierarchy from 
 .generation to generation, was due, on the theoretical side, 
 to the current belief in the exact and absolute trans- 
 mission of hereditary qualities and aptitudes a belief, by
 
 438 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 the way, which could only prevail in the absence of insight 
 into the great complementary and compensating truth,, 
 partly scientific, partly spiritual, viz., that all men alike 
 have a common identity of nature, and that each is open 
 to all the truths, accomplishments, and powers of every 
 other, although perhaps in a greater or less degree on 
 the practical side, to the impossibility in early societies- 
 (in the absence of any machinery for co-ordinating and 
 controlling such vast masses of men) of allowing them to 
 pass indifferently from one calling to another, especially 
 where prejudicies on the subject of marriage and of 
 eating together were so strong. 
 
 \Yith Society thus set, as it were, and consolidated into> 
 Castes (for the above or other reasons), before Science 
 had made any progress except of the most empirical 
 kind, and with the Priests at the top, what could happen 
 but that it should remain fossilized for all time, if 
 not interfered with from without ? \Yith Religion to 
 consecrate the Social regime with which she was bound 
 up ; with gods at hand to account for every event, action, 
 or circumstance, the least unusual or extraordinary ; 
 what living reason was there, in the absence of Science, 
 for discrediting either the Religion or the Social regime ? 
 Buddhism, it is true, was a secession ; but it was the 
 result rather of greater individual insight into the 
 Spiritual nature of man, than of a more scientific 
 knowledge of Nature. Its doctrines, however splendid 
 and sublime, could effect, in consequence, but little change 
 in the general condition of the people. With no- 
 Scientific foundation as security and support for the finer 
 Spiritual doctrine, the people, unirradiated by Natural 
 Science, dragged the new system back again into the 
 idolatry of the old. For this idolatry, with its innumer- 
 able deities and spirits to animate all unusual objects 
 and to account for all unusual occurrences, harmonized 
 with all they knew ; and that for the simple reason that 
 they had no Scientific Knowledge with which it could be
 
 STATICS. 439 
 
 out of harmony. The consequence was, that the 
 civilization as a whole has remained stagnant and 
 unchanged to the present day, and is not likely to be 
 reformed and advanced by any Religious Philosophy 
 whatever, Christian or other (which indeed would at 
 most only replace one elaborate and picturesque series of 
 fictions by another less so), but only by the leaven of 
 Science introduced into it from without. For, once show 
 a man the natural law which any phenomenon obeys, so 
 as to enable him to predict the phenomenon for himself 
 and to teach others to do the same, no Priesthood, 
 however potent, can prevent that man from withdrawing 
 it from the agency of the deity who was believed to 
 preside over it, and placing it under the dominion of 
 natural law. 
 
 If Science has thus been the main agent in pushing 
 on Civilization, by breaking down those great Religious 
 systems which consecrated old and worn-out regimes, it 
 has also been the main agent in determining the lesser 
 changes in the development of these great systems, prior 
 to their decadence or their passage into higher forms. 
 Not that these changes were necessarily brought about by 
 the progress of Natural Science only; on the contrary, 
 they were often brought about by greater insight into the 
 Laws of Mind that Mental Science which, as I have 
 attempted to show, is neither the old Metaphysics on 
 the one hand, or the new Psychology on the other. 
 Buddhism, for example, with its doctrine of human 
 Equality, was a deeper spiritual insight than Brahminism, 
 with its doctrine of Caste. Pure Christianity, with its 
 broad universality and its deification of the spirit, was a 
 finer spiritual insight than Judaism, with its narrow 
 sectarianism, and deification of the letter. Mahom- 
 medanism, with its unity of God, was a finer insight than 
 that miserable Byzantine Christianity which it superseded, 
 with its ridiculous disputations as to the procession 
 of the Holy Ghost, its image-worship, and the like.
 
 40 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 Western Catholicism, again, with its doctrine of Work, 
 was a deeper insight into the world than Mahomme- 
 danism, with its doctrine of Fate. Early Protestantism, 
 with its 'right of private judgment,' and toleration 
 of Science, was in advance of Catholicism, with its 
 doctrine of ' absolute submission,' and its condemnation 
 of Science. And, lastly, Modern Protestantism, with its 
 acceptance of Science, is a higher development than the 
 old Protestantism, with its six days' creation, its verbal 
 inspiration, its miracles, and the like. 
 
 Such, in general outline, are the parts played in Civiliza- 
 tion by the four cardinal factors Religion, Material 
 and Social Conditions, Religion as Philosophy, and 
 Science. There are, I am aware, other factors of 
 scarcely less importance, but as they are all the results 
 of special combinations among these four, and are 
 implicitly bound up in them, I have passed them by. 
 Art and Poetry, for example, are of the very first 
 importance, but they are products of the union of 
 Religion, Science, and Material and Social Conditions, 
 rather than initiatory causes in themselves. The 
 Industrial Arts, too, are the result of the application of 
 Science to labour and natural products, and so are direct 
 effects of the union of Science with Material and Social 
 Conditions ; while Practical Morality is, as we have seen, 
 the direct product of the Material and Social Conditions, 
 and the relations which they necessitate. They are all 
 effects rather than causes ; and, indeed, may be almost 
 said to be Civilization itself, rather than the factors that 
 go to produce it.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DYNAMICS. 
 
 HAVING exhibited the factors separately, and in their statical 
 relations, from the standpoint of the effects produced on 
 Civilization by them, I now propose, by way of giving 
 greater completeness to the Theory, to exhibit the factors 
 in* combination, and in their dynamical relations, taking as 
 my standpoint the nature of Man himself. 
 
 All thinkers, whether they be Theist or Atheist, Trans- 
 
 cendentalist or Materialist, Christian or Comtist, feel and 
 agree that there is in man an Ideal of expansion and 
 
 elevation of mind and heart, which is not only the end of 
 Nature, but is the goal of Society, and to forward which 
 the efforts of all the good and wise should be directed. 
 This ideal has not yet been realised by the world, but 
 exists rather as a motor principle and bright intuition of 
 the mind. It rises before the imaginations of men, like a 
 pillar of fire in the darkness, inciting them to new and 
 higher efforts in the cause of humanity, and cheering 
 them, by hope, as they plod their way through the 
 wilderness of Time. But just as the beauteous flower, 
 although lying latent in the seed, has to await the slow 
 .growth and development of root and branch and stem ; 
 as the mariner can only reach the haven where his wife 
 .and children dwell, by skilfully tacking about and taking 
 advantage of wind and tide ; or as a profound thought in
 
 442 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 legislation must patiently abide the time when the 
 hindrances to its acceptance shall have been cleared away, 
 so this Ideal of Moral and Intellectual Elevation has to be 
 slowly wrought out of the stubborn materials of the world, 
 and to be reached through a thorny and entangled thicket 
 of Physical, Organic, and Spiritual obstructions. It can 
 only, at best, therefore, be realised in the far distant future. 
 The golden age of peace, liberty, justice, purity, and love,, 
 for example, is an ideal which all the wise and good seek 
 to forward, as well as love to contemplate; and yet so 
 obstinate hitherto have been the Material and Social 
 obstructions of the world, that after eighteen Christian 
 centuries it has still to be realised. But while the World-in- 
 general thus moves slowly and with difficulty towards its 
 goal, in the meantime, it is to be noted, the souls of the 
 individuals that make up the world are impatient, and 
 cannot rest until they have entered in imagination that 
 ideal kingdom which is theirs by native birthright, to 
 enjoy it, live in it, and conform their lives to it. To 
 enable them to do this, and, by thus overleaping the 
 barriers of Time, to realise now and here that Ideal World 
 of the Future on which the mind loves to dwell, is the aim,, 
 business, and function of our first great factor Religion 
 each and all of \vhose forms, it is to be remarked, are, 
 in their own way, and according to the stage of culture 
 reached, able to satisfy the aspirations and longings of the 
 individual soul whether it be Brahminism, Buddhism,. 
 Judaism, Mohammedanism, or Christianity. But although 
 these religions have, each in its own way, been able to 
 harmonise the minds and satisfy the aspirations of 
 individual men, it is important to observe that they have 
 facilitated or retarded the march of the race to its final 
 goal, in proportion as another great factor the Religious 
 Philosophy in which each is embodied has displayed 
 insight into the laws of Nature and of Human Life ; and 
 so has given more or less range and expansion to the 
 movements of the human spirit. For if that Ideal, which
 
 DYNAMICS. 443. 
 
 is the goal of the nations, has to be cut through the 
 entanglements of Physical, Organic, and Spiritual ob- 
 structions, it is evident that the religion which exhibits 
 most insight into these laws, alone or in their entirety, is 
 best fitted to open a passage for Society to reach the end 
 in view. And thus it is that as the world advances we 
 shall find that the successive Religions have each opened 
 up an outlet for some side or other of human thought 
 and aspiration, closed to its predecessors. The Theocratic 
 Polytheism of India, for example, which consecrated the 
 institution of Caste, gave thereby less chance of elevation 
 and expansion of mind to the great masses of men, than 
 the Monotheism of Mahomet, or the Intellectual Poly- 
 theism of Greece, which opened up an equal arena to all 
 the free citizens. Mahommedanism itself, again, when 
 its first burst of fanaticism had subsided, and its secret 
 structure began to reveal itself, was found to be incapable 
 of expansion, devoid of sympathy, and fatal to material and 
 intellectual advancement. The Koran professed to be not 
 only a spiritual revelation, but a scientific treatise ; to 
 close not only the book of inspiration, but the book of 
 knowledge. It accordingly discouraged all attempts of 
 man to discover the order of the World, and thereby to 
 improve his condition ; while its central doctrine led him 
 to repose indolently on the decrees of an inexorable Fate.. 
 The consequence was, that under this belief the human 
 mind stagnated; and, as we see at this hour in those 
 nations that are deeply imbued with its spirit, Progress,. 
 Civilization, and Morality, lie rotting together. The Stoic, 
 too, best of Pagans, who longed to realize in himself that 
 Virtue which was the glorious ideal of his mind, found his 
 feet entangled like the rest of the world, in the meshes of 
 earthly trials and afflictions, which he could neither 
 control by insight, nor subordinate by power. He 
 attempted, accordingly, to elevate himself above them by 
 ignoring them, or trampling them with pride and disdain 
 under his feet. Judaism, again, on the other hand, from
 
 ..444 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 its tribal pride and narrowness, and with its exclusive and 
 aristocratic Jehovah, could never become a religion of 
 wide universal expansion. But Christ, living in his great 
 conception of the Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood 
 of Man, perceived that all things worked together for 
 .good ; that trouble and affliction were instruments of good ; 
 .and that the end of Nature was neither the aggrandize- 
 ment and pride of one small tribe, nor the unlimited 
 gratification of the individual, but a universal sympathy, 
 ;a general beneficence. Instead, therefore, of trampling 
 on the world, like the Stoic, or despising all but his 
 own race, like the Jew, he would have us reverence the 
 world, and love it, and by a grand act of renunciation 
 {inasmuch as in a limited world unlimited gratification is 
 impossible) raise ourselves to that Ideal in which he loved 
 to- dwell. While Stoicism, then, from its imperfect 
 human sympathies could not, and Judaism, from its 
 narrowness and pride, would not make headway in the 
 virgin soil of barbarism, Christianity, by giving free 
 expansion to the mind, heart, and imagination, was in its 
 essence favourable to an advance in Civilization. But as 
 it gradually became embedded and lost in the Intellectual 
 Dogmas of the Roman Catholic Church, although its 
 -spirit still continued to operate in softening the cruelties 
 of barbarous warfare, in elevating the position of women, 
 and in keeping Society together, its doctrines were found 
 to be hostile to progress, morality, and civilization. From 
 the view of the World and Man which these doctrines held 
 in solution that is to say, from the Religious Philosophy 
 which it embodied were precipitated by a fatal sequence 
 and necessity, Religious persecution, Witch-burning, hatred 
 -of Science, and that attempt to stifle the aspirations of 
 Reason which has made the Middle Ages so repulsive to 
 the modern mind. Protestantism followed, with its 
 "* liberty of private judgment,' and helped to lift the incu- 
 bus that was pressing on the souls of men ; and the 
 .movement, once begun, has been continued by Criticism
 
 DYNAMICS. 445. 
 
 and Science, until now, in the most cultured portions of 
 the most advanced and civilized nations, no restraints 
 exist to bar enquiry, or prevent the fullest enlargement 
 and expansion of thought. 
 
 While Religion, in each and all of its forms, is equally 
 capable of raising individuals to the highest moral 
 grandeur ; and while it has advanced or retarded the 
 progress of the race to its ideal goal in proportion as the 
 Religions Philosophies, with which it has been bound up, 
 have exhibited more or less insight into the laws of the 
 World and of Human Life ; nevertheless it is important 
 to remark that no Religion, however sublime, can jump' 
 the element of Time, and raise the race at a bound to that 
 Ideal which it announces and foreshadows, until a third 
 great factor, the Material and Social Conditions, is already 
 prepared for it. I notice it is everywhere assumed, and 
 indeed the assumption seems reasonable, that if Religion 
 has the power to raise one man (in spite of the general 
 state of society around him) to a point of moral elevation 
 where he is superior to fate and death, it has equally the 
 power to raise a million, a nation, a world. But nothing 
 will be found more illusory in fact. For Society, be it 
 observed, w r ith its division and co-operation of labour,, 
 thought, and industry, is, if not an organism, at all events 
 as much inter-related in its parts as the parts of an animal 
 or tree ; and such is the sympathetic connexion of each 
 part with every other, that, like seed and fruit, head and 
 extremities, no one organ- or part can be monstrously 
 developed, without the rest becoming correspondingly 
 atrophied. And just as the outburst of celibacy in the 
 early Christian ages could only arise out of the colossal 
 luxury and dissipation to which it served as foil and 
 counterpoise ; or as, in an aristocratic state of Society, one 
 class of men cannot be haughty, insolent, and independent, 
 without the other classes being correspondingly cringing, 
 dependent, and submissive ; so one body of men cannot 
 have their hearts fixed on what are called the 'eternal
 
 -446 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 realities,' without the great masses of the people being 
 absorbed in the temporary passions, interests, efforts, and 
 ideals of the hour. The truth is, the vast majority of men 
 are so steeped in the practical work of the day that (like 
 the polypus, which is said to change its colour \vith the 
 object to which it adheres), their opinions, sentiments, and 
 codes of morality take their tone and character from the 
 surroundings in which they move, and the occupations in 
 which they are engaged. It is this subduing of the mind 
 to the element it works in, which is the antagonism and 
 compensating check that defeats all attempts to force a 
 hot-house morality on mankind. Crusades there have 
 been, and ' revivals ' of religion there will continue to be ; 
 i but until the Material and Social Conditions are lifted out 
 of the plane where the ' money-bag of Mammon ' is the 
 idol of the nations, and where men in general can be 
 labelled with the names of the functions they perform or 
 the traditions in which they have been brought up, that 
 high ideal of Elevation and Expansion of Mind which is 
 the aim of Religion and the goal of Society, can never be 
 realized among the masses of mankind. There is, perhaps, 
 no more pernicious illusion than the universally-prevalent 
 and complacent assumption that if the Ideal is not 
 realizable here and now, it ought to be or might be. 
 This is the secret source from which have issued those 
 wailings over the existence of Evil, and those discussions 
 as to its origin, which for so many ages have troubled the 
 intellects of men. This is the source of that disgust with 
 life, which characterizes those who sit sentimentalizing 
 over the Ideal, without putting forth their hand to help 
 the Actual. What right have we to assume that the 
 highest beauty of character and life is to spring full- 
 equipped from the earth, like Minerva from the head of 
 Jove ? As well expect the aloe-flower to spring in full 
 blossom from its seed by the mere wave of a wand. One 
 secret of the world is, that all great and enduring results 
 in character and life have to be patiently wrought
 
 DYNAMICS. 447 
 
 out in Time ; and to misapprehend this is not so much a 
 presumption of moral delicacy and refinement, as of 
 poverty and weakness of thought. 
 
 But besides the Ideal in Man which Religion exists to 
 satisfy there is also the Real real appetites, passions, 
 sentiments, necessities and luxuries of the body and mind, 
 hunger, thirst, love of life, of liberty, of knowledge, of 
 sympathy, of power. All advance in civilization of one 
 age or people over another consists either in the greater 
 abundance of objects to satisfy these desires, the more 
 just and equitable distribution of them throughout the 
 great body of the people, or in the rise and emphasis of 
 men's aims from the lower of them, up to the higher and 
 highest. If we contrast the actual state, not only of 
 material wealth and prosperity, but of morality, justice, 
 elevation and expansion of mind, at the present time, 
 with what it was some centuries ago, a distinct advance is 
 visible. The decline in war and bloodshed, in cruelty and 
 ferocity, in civil and religious persecutions, in gross excite- 
 ments and sensual indulgences, are all real advances in 
 Civilization. So, too, are the amelioration in manners and 
 social intercourse ; in the criminal law ; the greater rever- 
 ence for human life, for women, and for man as man. And 
 in the coming ages we may confidently anticipate a still 
 further advance in justice, sincerity, sympathy, expansion 
 of mind, benevolence, love of truth, and magnanimity. 
 If, then, we arrest Civilization at any given point in the 
 long line of its evolution, make a section of it, and ask on 
 what the mental and moral characteristics of that section 
 depend, we shall find that their proximate and immediate 
 cause is the third great factor above referred to the 
 Material and Social Conditions. For things will make 
 their own relations, that is to say, theirfown morality 
 material, political, and social and prescribe the aims, 
 aspirations, and ideals of men. Climate, soil, and natural 
 agents united with race and population in determining 
 whether the earlv civilizations should have the*quick and
 
 448 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 mushroom-like growth of the great Oriental monarchies of 
 the Old World, or the slow, compact, and steady advance 
 of Modern European communities. The Material and 
 Social relations of the different peoples, internal and 
 external, unite with these primary conditions to necessitate 
 a particular Structure of Society, a particular distribution 
 of Politipal Power, and this, in its turn, gives rise to a par- 
 ticular distribution of Social Power. And from all these are 
 directly bred the Sentiments, Aspirations, and Ideals of the 
 different peoples, their Public Opinion, and stock of 
 recognized ideas. For the practical relations that exist 
 between man and man, between people and people,, 
 generate a set of practical beliefs, as their images and 
 counterparts. The world, in general, judges of men and 
 things (of what is high and what is low, of what is right 
 and what is wrong, of what is good and what is evil) by 
 the way in which they see them related to each other, in 
 spite of all theories dra\vn from wider, deeper, more 
 subtle and more comprehensive relations. The necessities 
 of peoples, for example, demanded that supreme power 
 should be placed in the hands of one of their number, 
 who was to be called Chief or King ; and the people, seeing 
 the power exercised by him over other men, became 
 imbued with the idea of his immeasurable superiority 
 in nature and attribute over common mortals. In aristo- 
 cratic countries, \vhere the soil has been appropriated 
 by a few great proprietors, the power which such owner- 
 ship gave them from generation to generation over the 
 people that dwelt on the land, gave rise to the idea, almost 
 to the axiom, of the general superiority of these proprietors 
 to all others; and so the doctrine of the inequality of 
 men founded on birth, became a fixed belief in the minds 
 of the people. In democatic countries, on the other hand, 
 where Material and Social Conditions are practically 
 equal, and no one man or class of men is seen habitually 
 to dominate the. rest, but all have equal rights, duties, 
 privileges, and advantages, the generalization that all
 
 DYNAMICS. 449 
 
 men arc equal is the pervading thought, and to assume 
 the contrary would be resented as a serious insult. And 
 thus it is that men's circumstances, surroundings, and 
 relations leave their impress on their ideas and aspirations, 
 as their callings and occupations do on their general out- 
 ward style and demeanour. 
 
 The civilization of any given epoch, then, is the im- 
 mediate result of the Material and Social Conditions of 
 that epoch, and images and reflects them. If Religious 
 Philosophies were to have their own way entirely, they 
 would, by consecrating these material and social relation- 
 ships, perpetuate them unchanged to all time. But we 
 know that the Material and Social Conditions are 
 constantly changing and improving, and that Civilization 
 is constantly advancing. There must be, therefore, some 
 dynamical and active force at work somewhere in Society 
 to cause this advance ; some impetus, initiative, and self- 
 evolved power which is not the mere reflex of the 
 material and social surroundings, but which, while 
 breaking down the old Religious Philosophies, pushes on 
 these conditions to higher and higher developments. 
 Were it not so, indeed, we should, like the lower animals, 
 tread the same monotonous round for ever. And when 
 we ask what this dynamical power is this power that 
 communicates the impulse, sets the ball a-rolling, and 
 initiates a new departure in Civilization and ^regress the 
 answer will be found in that same Ideal in the mind of 
 man which has not as yet been realized in this world, 
 but which cannot rest until it has conformed the real 
 world more and more to its image. It is this Ideal 
 which is constantly building up the New Civilization 
 which ever lies more or less concealed under the Old, and 
 which, when the Old has decayed and fallen to pieces, 
 comes forth to take its place. This Ideal has many sides, 
 but they may be all summed up in the old and well- 
 recognized forms the love of Beauty, the love of Right, 
 the love of Truth. The love of Beaut}', with the splendid 
 
 2 G
 
 450 THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 Art, Poetry, and Music of the ages to which it has given 
 rise, need not detain us here ; as its effects in elevating 
 and refining the mind are so well and so universally 
 recognised. The love of Right, while always softly active, 
 like sunlight, ever and anon bursts forth like a flood of 
 rolling fire when tyranny and oppression are full, blasting 
 and withering; and when the hopes of mankind seem 
 most crushed and forlorn, rising in its majesty to 
 vindicate the infinitude of the soul. But unless 
 reinforced by the reception of some new and regenerating 
 truth into the general mind, or attended by some wide- 
 spread and radical change in the Material and Social 
 (Onditions, its effects are evanescent and transitory; and 
 the startled world, wakened perhaps for a moment from 
 its dreams by the bright meteoric splendour, sinks again 
 into sleep and darkness. It is the love of Truth, making 
 Science our fourth and last great factor its instrument, 
 that is the real and final dynamic and germinative force 
 in Civilization. It finds its agents in those solitary and 
 sequestered individuals, who, impelled by its spirit, throw 
 a more comprehensive glance over the field of existence, 
 see things in subtler and wider relations, open up new 
 riches and magnificence in tracts hitherto barren or 
 unexplored, and give a new and deeper interpretation to 
 life. Such men have been, on the one hand, the Spiritual 
 Thinkers, who have founded Religions and Systems of 
 Philosophy ; and on the other, the Scientific Observers, 
 who have discovered the Physical Laws of Nature. And 
 when these men arise, then it is that the Old Civilization 
 begins to heave and ferment with the fire new-lit in its 
 inwards, which, working outwards from the central heart 
 to the sodden and torpid extremities, gradually transforms 
 and revivifies the whole. But observe that these 
 successive Religions and Philosophies do not follow one 
 another as complete transformations, like the shifting 
 scenes in a panorama, but glide imperceptibly into each 
 other rather, each one being blended and interfused with
 
 DYNAMICS. 45 i 
 
 all that have preceded it. The pure religion of Christ, for 
 example, falling on Pagan times, becomes tinged in its 
 ritual with Pagan idolatry, and in its creed with Pagan 
 philosophy. Its simple and homogeneous structure, 
 when stretched on the loom, is swiftly set upon by Greek 
 metaphysicians, Egyptian mystics, Neo-platonists, Jews, 
 and Orientalists generally, who interweave it with their 
 subtleties, and dye or stain it- with their peculiar super- 
 stitions, sentiments, and habits of thought. Learned 
 Divines are kept busy in Ecumenical Councils and else- 
 where, superintending the selection of fibres, and blending 
 of colours ; an Emperor occasionally standing by and 
 dictating the particular threads of subtlety which are to 
 be interwoven, while his Empress, perhaps, is indulging 
 her preference by choosing the colour which most strikes 
 her fancy. In the meantime, Heresies and Schisms are 
 falling out here and there rents in the texture, slits 
 in the seam which, however, are promptly darned up 
 again ; until, after infinite effort, the vast and variegated 
 web at last issues from the loom, one and indivisible 
 the omnipotent Roman Catholic Church which over- 
 stretches the world. After enwrapping the nations in its 
 all-embracing folds during the long sleep of the Middle 
 Ages, it begins again to show signs of disintegration. 
 Grecian Thought and Culture, set free by the Mahommedan 
 conquests, are again at work, loosening the cohesion of 
 its well-knit texture ; heresies follow one another with 
 ever-increasing rapidity; until, with the Revival of Learning, 
 the great Protestant schism splits it through the centre, 
 and leaves a yawning gap between its opposing sides. 
 But still the disintegration goes on. Liberty of private 
 judgment, once admitted, cannot again be suppressed. 
 Criticism becomes scientific, and, when applied to History 
 and Chronology, gradually destroys the credibility of 
 much of that old and revered record on which the 
 religious faith of ages has been nourished. In the 
 meantime, solitary men, scattered here and there over
 
 45^ THEORY OF PROGRESS. 
 
 Europe, have again taken to investigating Nature at first 
 hand, in one or other small section of her vast operations, 
 and are discovering uniformities and Laws in phenomena 
 hitherto regarded as casual, capricious, or dependent on 
 some Supernatural Will. Starting from different points, 
 and working outwards in enlarging circles, they have 
 gradually extended their generalizations until, meeting and 
 combining as Modern Science, they have eaten away 
 almost the last fibres of the Old Creed, and gone far in 
 remodelling the structure of Society. But Science herself, 
 like the Cosmogonies and Religious Philosophies which 
 preceded her, has not been able to preserve her essential 
 purity throughout. Her earlier generalizations were all 
 more or less tinged with the Metaphysical and quasi- 
 Theological conceptions of the times in which they arose ; 
 and, indeed, not until quite recently, has she altogether 
 freed herself from these impurities. But, having at last 
 succeeded in reducing all the operations of the Material 
 World to one vast uniformity, nothing is now wanting to 
 complete her triumph but that she should animate this 
 otherwise dead and unmeaning mechanism with an intel- 
 ligent and informing Soul. 
 
 While Science in the form of Spiritual Insight and 
 Natural Law has thus removed from above, as it were, 
 those successive Theological stays which, by fixing each 
 existing regime, would prevent Civilization advancing; in 
 the meantime, when applied to the mechanical, chemical, 
 and industrial arts, it has pushed forward from below 
 those Material and Social Conditions out of which each 
 successive Civilization immediately and directly springs. 
 It were needless, indeed, to recount again the discoveries 
 \ and inventions which, since the Middle Ages^have so 
 completely changed the face of the world ; ^suffice it to say 
 only, that by increasing the products of labour and facili- 
 tating their distribution, by diffusing knowledge and 
 equalizing the power of the different classes and peoples, 
 it has gone a great way towards equalising the rights,
 
 DYNAMICS. 453 
 
 duties, privileges, and responsibilities of all, and so pre- 
 paring the way for a rise in men's ideals. And if, as is 
 not improbable, the same inventions, discoveries, and 
 arts, which have broken down the old Feudal Concen- 
 tration of authority and power in the hands of a par- 
 ticular class, and have been gradually equalising the con- 
 ditions of all classes, are now showing a tendency, by the 
 operation of economic laws as inexorable, to an Industrial 
 Concentration no less pernicious, but in a different form, it 
 is to Science that the Future will be confided that Science 
 which, by diving into the deep elements of the problem 
 material and social and ascertaining the Physical and 
 Spiritual Laws on which it depends, will, by again enabling 
 us to equalize the conditions, prepare the way for a new 
 and higher Social regime than any that History has yet 
 recorded. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 INDEX 
 
 A 
 
 Absolute, Metaphysicians' Use of ... 50 , 
 
 Action, Effects of Religion on 223-224,273,281 
 
 Depends on Adaptation to Stage of 
 
 Culture 
 
 274 
 
 ,, Effects of Religion on, Depends on Temperament 276 
 
 ,, Religion no Effect on ... 281 
 
 Effects of Heaven and Hell on 277-278 
 
 Effects of Enthusiasm on 279 
 
 ,, Affected by Ideals, Aims, and Ambitions ... 281 
 
 America, Early History of Colonists in ... 358-359 
 
 Ancestral Spirits, Worship of 243. 
 
 Anthropomorphism, Unavoidable 198 
 
 of Spinoza 198 
 
 of Spencer 199 
 
 Aristocracies, Culture in, and Democracies 366-370 
 
 Do not Value Character 401-402. 
 
 Aristocracy, Class Selfishness of ... 285 
 
 Effect on Masses ... 287 
 
 and Press 288- 
 
 as Ideal 291-292,295 
 
 Effects on Morality 296 
 
 and Degradation of Masses 296- 
 
 and Democracy Compared 297-3OZ 
 
 ,, as Defender of People 320-321 
 
 ,, French 321 
 
 ,, compared with Local Self-government 322 
 
 and Demagogue 346 
 
 2 H
 
 456 INDEX. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Aristocracy, Industrial 350 
 
 Culture in 366-367 
 
 Importance of Class in ... ... ... 367 
 
 Arnold, Matthew, and Conduct ... 29 
 
 ,, and Grand Manner ... ... ... 375 
 
 Art, the Illative Sense ...81-83 
 
 as Balance 253 
 
 Assent, Grammar of ... ... 7-?3 
 
 Illegitimate 76-77 
 
 Legitimate 78 
 
 No Index of Truth 79 
 
 Three Classes of 79 
 
 Association, Power of ... 325 
 
 Authority, Cardinal Newman on ... ... 75 
 
 B 
 
 Bacon and the Laws of the Mind ... 98 
 
 Balance of Power 408 
 
 for Ideal 252 
 
 Religion as 253-258 
 
 to Hell 277 
 
 Balances, Law of, Evolution Corollary of 249 
 
 ,, ,, Law of Evolution compared with ... 250 
 
 ,, ,, ,, in Mind ... 251 
 
 ,, ,, ,, all Religions constructed on ... ... ... 256-257 
 
 Beaconsfield, Lord, and Aristocracy ... 300, 337 
 
 Beauty, Symbol of Divine Cause ... 211 
 
 Belief, Distinction between Knowledge and ... 186 
 
 in World outside us ... ... ... ... 188 
 
 in Mind of Fellow-man ... ... ... ... 188 
 
 Beliefs which cannot be known by Science ... ... ... 188, 203 
 
 Believe, What I am Bound to ... ... ... 203 
 
 Biology, Effect on Metaphysics of 56-57 
 
 Effects of, on Practical Life, Religious Belief, and Thought 61-62 
 
 Bismarck ... ... ... 329 
 
 Brain, Connexion between Mind and ... ... 62,112 
 
 Bright, John 338 
 
 Buckle, his History of Civilization ... 381 
 
 Buddha 258 
 
 Buonaparte 323
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Calvinism, Constructed on Law of Balances 2S7 
 
 Carlyle on Relationship between Lord and Serf ... ... vt-^S 
 
 and Laws of Mind 100-101 
 
 takes Stand on Order ... r ,g I4 
 
 and Emerson 147-148 
 
 his end, Society as a Whole j5 3 
 
 ,, his View of Society X 5, 
 
 and Comte 164-166 
 
 ,, sees Men are led by Imagination ^5 
 
 his Religion 15* 
 
 Differences between, and Comte 166 
 
 his 'Society' 166-167 
 
 his Hero-worship ... 167-168 
 
 his Neglect of Certain Laws of Mind 168 
 
 his Theory of Civilization 383 
 
 on Material and Social Conditions 391 
 
 believed in Exhortation and Preaching Morality 391-392, 394 
 
 Caste 356,437 
 
 Comte's belief in 155 
 
 Causation, Scientific 64,200,204 
 
 not Scientifically known 190 
 
 implies Will 200 
 
 Cause, Great Men Symbols of ... 165,211 
 
 referred to Will 196 
 
 required to Account for whole 196 
 
 must Construe, in Terms of our Experience 200 
 
 ,, Wills the only, we know ... 200 
 
 ,, Human Beings Symbols of 212 
 
 ,, Must Represent, in Terms of Ourselves 239 
 
 ,, Subject-matter of Religion 239 
 
 ,, of Things, Different Explanations of, according to Stage of 
 
 Culture 243, 263-264 
 
 ,, Religion satisfies Demand for 263 
 
 Causes, Law of Wills and , 112,178-179 
 
 ,, Science cannot deal with 177 
 
 ,, Scientific, only Orderly Effects 205 
 
 Centralization 310, 321 
 
 Change or Rotation in Ideals 168-169 
 
 Character of Gods , 242-245 
 
 ,, ,, Law it depends on 240 
 
 ,, not always corresponding to Stage ofj^ulture ... 245 
 
 ,, not Valued in Aristocracies 401 
 
 Christ, Teaching of, and Teaching of Church 266
 
 458 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Christian Dogmas, are they Data of Consciousness ? 229 
 
 Religion, arose out of Wants of the Time 395 
 
 ,, Description of Rise and Fortunes of 451 
 
 Christianity more Tangible than Religion of Humanity 159 
 
 ,, Incompatibility of, with Science ... ... 246 
 
 Influence of St. Paul and St. Augustine on 260 
 
 ,, Emperors on 260 
 
 explains Cause of Things 264 
 
 ,, too High or too Gross 275 
 
 ,, no Effect on Duelling or Caste, &c. 282 
 
 Church, Teaching of 261,266 
 
 and Aristocracy ... ... 297 
 
 preaches Morality ... ... 388,405 
 
 maintains Status Quo ... ... ... ... 430 
 
 Roman Catholic ... 261 
 
 ,, its Ritual .. ... 262 
 
 Circumstances which give Rise to Religion, Herbert Spencer con- 
 centrates on 223 
 
 Effect of, on Morality 358-359 
 
 Civil War in America 326 
 
 Civilization, All Former Histories of, Unsatisfactory 378 
 
 Two Movements of 406-407 
 
 ,, Early Beginnings of 412 
 
 could not advance till Material and Social Conditions 
 
 equalized ... 415 
 
 Advance in, Depends on Material and Social Conditions 447 
 
 Dynamical Force in ... 449-450 
 
 ,, Science has and will Advance it by Equalizing Con- 
 ditions 452-453 
 
 Civilizations without Science 434-435 
 
 in East, Their Want of Scientific Knowledge, caused 
 
 by Material and Social Conditions ... 435-4 36 
 ,, ,, Cause of Supremacy of Priests in ... 436-437 
 
 ,, ,, Stagnation caused by Absence of Science in, 438-439 
 
 Class Legislation Where One Dominates ... ... ... 135 
 
 Importance of, in Aristocracies ... ... 365,367 
 
 Classes, Selfishness of 285 
 
 Morality of 286 
 
 Division into, Effect on Morality of 303, 417 
 
 in England ... ... ... 365 
 
 Equalization of, as Condition of Progress 409-411 
 
 ,, Moral Code of 417 
 
 Clergy 223 
 
 Cloture 332 
 
 Compensation, Law of ... ... ... ... ... ... 265 
 
 Comte 4 2 
 
 takes Stand on Laws of Mind 102
 
 INDEX. 459 
 
 Comte takes Stand on Order 139,146-148 
 
 his Political Scheme 149-150 
 
 preaches Duties not Rights 150, 390 
 
 his Neglect of Two Great Laws of Mind 151 
 
 Spiritual and Temporal Powers of 151,156,161 
 
 his Social Scheme 15!, iyj 
 
 Neglect of Identity of Men 153,155 
 
 his Belief in Caste 154 
 
 his Utopia 156-157 
 
 his Neglect of Imagination 156-162 
 
 his Attempt to get rid of Deity ... 176-180 
 
 How Religion of Humanity arose in Mind of 175 
 
 and Law of Wills and Causes ... 177 
 
 and " Law of Three Stages " 179,240 
 
 and Object for Religious Sentiment 180-181, 212 
 
 on Humanity calling forth Reverence and Love ... 181, 212 
 
 his Generalization drawn from Law of Mind 192, 240 
 
 Flaw in his Deduction from Law of Wills and Causes 194 
 
 does not deny Deity 197 
 
 his Confusion of Planes 207 
 
 his Fallacy as to Object of Religion 207 
 
 makes Religion and Duty identical 208 
 
 his Play on word " Religioa" 210 
 
 makes Humanity Supreme Being 215-216 
 
 thinks Humanity greater than ourselves 216 
 
 regards Religion as Controlling Factor 379 
 
 Failure of his Theory of Progress 379-380 
 
 and Carlyle, Subordinate Material and Social Conditions 389-391 
 
 on Preaching of Morality 389-392 
 
 Concentration 35 1 .453 
 
 Conditions, Material and Social 
 
 Civilization best advanced by Ameliorating 388 
 
 Comte and Carlyle subordinate 389-391 
 
 Amelioration of, raises Morality 396 
 
 Character of Government depends on 398 
 
 Knowledge controlled by 399 
 
 prevent Realization of Ideal 400-403 
 
 control Culture 4 02 
 
 breed Men's Ideals 43 
 
 determine Ideals 403,426 
 
 Immediate Causes of Moral Relationships between Men 425 
 
 Effect of Science in Improving 431 
 
 Equalizing 43 2 
 
 in East are cause of want of Scientific Knowledge ... 435"43 6 
 
 must be ready before Ideal can be Realized 446 
 
 Advance in Civilization depends on 447 
 
 must be changed before Love of Right can take Lasting Effect... 450
 
 460 INDEX. 
 
 Conditions, Material and Social 
 
 Science has and probably will Advance Civilization by 
 
 Equalizing 452-453 
 
 Conditions, Material and Social, Equalization of 
 
 First Condition of Progress 407 
 
 secures Liberty of Europe 408 
 
 necessary for Individual Expansion 411 
 
 condition of Progress in Past ... 412 
 
 rendered Justice possible 414-418 
 
 necessary for Rise of Morality and Civilization ... ... ... 415 
 
 makes possible Ascension of Men's Ideals 418 
 
 by Science . ... 432 
 
 Conditions, Material and Social, the Controlling Factor 
 
 388, 393. 396-405 
 
 Parents act on it 393 
 
 Government acts on it 394 
 
 Press acts on it 394 
 
 Conduct, Religion, Matter of 227 
 
 Constitution of United States 322,326 
 
 Controlling Factor, Material and Social Conditions, the 388, 393, 396-405 
 
 Crusades ... ... ... ... ... 279, 283, 392, 395 
 
 Culture, in Aristocracies and Democracies 366-370 
 
 Morality will Correspond with 398 
 
 prevented by Material and Social Conditions... 402 
 
 D 
 
 Debating Society, Described 338-344 
 
 and House of Commons ... ... ... ... 344 
 
 Deity, required to Account for Good ... ... ... ... ... 116 
 
 Comte's main concern to get rid of ... 175,176 
 
 ... needed to account for whole 194-196 
 
 Comte does not deny 197 
 
 Relation Men stand in to 249 
 
 Deities, Powers of Nature as 241 
 
 appeased ... 257 
 
 Demagogue, Democracies and 337 
 
 Aristocracies and ... ... 346 
 
 .,> his Influence must continue ... ... ... ... 347 
 
 his Influence on Foreign Affairs hurtful ... 348 
 
 Democracies, Tyranny of Majority in 356 
 
 Morality of 360 
 
 Culture in 366-370
 
 INDEX. 461 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Democracies, Manners in 373 
 
 Democracy, Rise of 291 
 
 ,, Checks to Despotism of, in America 324 
 
 Dangers of 306-310 
 
 Danger of, not due to Principle but Circumstances ... 310 
 
 and Slavery 308 
 
 and Smallness of Size ... 308 
 
 and War ... 309 
 
 ,, and Centralization 310 
 
 ,, Insignificance of Individuals in 323 
 
 and Despotism in America 324 
 
 Advance of 327 
 
 Love of Material Prosperity in 327-328 
 
 ,, Tendency to Anarchy in 333 
 
 Conditions Necessary for 329,332-333 
 
 ,, Countries when Ripe for 329,332 
 
 Early History of, in America 358 
 
 ,, Envy in ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 362 
 
 ,, Monotony of ... ... ... ... ... ... 364-365 
 
 ,, Culture in 366-370 
 
 ,, Manners in 373 
 
 Despotism, Danger of, in Democracies 306,308 
 
 ,, ,, in America 324 
 
 ,, Checks to, in America... 324 
 
 Detachment, Power of 91,95-96 
 
 ,, Want of Power of 103, 104, 105, 306, 315 
 
 Power of, in Democracies ... 368 
 
 Devil 107-108, in 
 
 Sin and Evil referred to 112 
 
 not required ... ... 115-116 
 
 and Luther 119 
 
 ,, why retained ... ... 242 
 
 Distinction, Point of 420-421 
 
 Duelling '282, 356 
 
 Duties not Rights 15 
 
 Duty, a Means not the End M3. 1 7 2 
 
 and Religion identical with Comte 208 
 
 Religion gives basis to 271 
 
 E 
 
 Economy, Political 4&. ' r 
 
 Effects of Religion on Mind 
 
 Action in early Civilizations 273
 
 462 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Effects of Religion on Action depend on its adaptation to Culture ... 274 
 
 ,, ,, Temperament 276 
 
 Emerson takes stand on Progress ... 139 
 
 and laws of Mind 99-100,370 
 
 Emotion, Religion matter of 231,235-238 
 
 ,, Intellectual belief coloured by ... ... 236-238 
 
 England, Constitution of 319 
 
 Enthusiasm, Religious ... ... ... ... ... ... 279, 283 
 
 ,, and Culture 394-395 
 
 Envy in Democracies ... ... ... 362 
 
 Equality, Love of ... 359 
 
 Evil, Referred to Devil in 
 
 ,, as Instrument of Individuation 113-114,116,247 
 
 ,, not Positive but Excess 115 
 
 not an end ... ... ... ... 116 
 
 ,, Instruments of, Become Instruments of Good ... 241 
 
 Evolution ... 41 
 
 ,, Corollary of Law of Balances 249 
 
 Law of Balances compared with Law of ... 250 
 
 ,, Law of, gives no Guarantee of Ascension ... 269 
 
 ,, Must Underpin it with Religion 269 
 
 Executive, Want of Steadiness of ... ... 331, 332 
 
 Expansion of Individual, Legislation must provide for 141 
 
 ,, ,, Progress towards ... ... ... ... 144 
 
 ,, ,, and Manners ... 370-372 
 
 ,, ,, End of Nature and of Government ... 139-141 
 Expediency, its Influence on Religion ... 260, 261 
 
 Factor, Science the Impelling 431 
 
 Factors, Four Great, in Civilization 423 
 
 Faith, Religion as matter of 227-231,235 
 
 ,, No Blind 235 
 
 Fear, Man's, in Presence of Nature 268 
 
 Feelings, Satisfaction of, no Proof of Truth of Doctrine 118-120, 122-123 
 
 ,, ,, Newman on 124 
 
 ,, which make up Religious Sentiment ... 181, 211 
 
 ,, Culture of, and Sentiments ... ... 370-372 
 
 ,, the Fibre of Man's being ... 371 
 
 Feudalism 290 
 
 Force, Herbert Spencer on Persistence of ... 65-67
 
 INDEX. 463 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Force, Dynamical, in Civilization 449 
 
 France under Buonaparte 323 
 
 Functions of Religion 263, 266 
 
 G 
 
 Gambetta ... 329 
 
 George, Henry ... 353 
 
 God of Battles 245 
 
 Gods, Law Number of, depends on 179, 240 
 
 Law Character of, depends on 240, 242-243 
 
 as Personifications of Powers of Nature 241-243 
 
 Nature 243 
 
 Tribal ... 243-244 
 
 of Iliad... ... 244 
 
 When character of, does not correspond to Stage of Culture... 245 
 
 Goethe 384, 396 
 
 and Laws of Mind 97-98 
 
 Good and God 116 
 
 Problem to bring it out of Evil 1 17 
 
 Government, Duty of 130 
 
 End of , 139 
 
 in War and Peace ... 329 
 
 Party 329 
 
 Character of, depends on Material and Social Con- 
 ditions 398 
 
 Great Men, Influence of ; 26 
 
 Carlyle and Comte on 165 
 
 Limitations of 171 
 
 Why Comte cannot Worship 183 
 
 as Symbols 165,211 
 
 ,, ,, their position in England 295 
 
 Ground Plan of the World "3 
 
 Guizot, his Theory of Civilization 3& 
 
 H 
 
 Harmony, Truth is : l8 7 
 
 What \ve must believe to get 203 
 
 of Mind demands Cause 2 3
 
 464 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Harmony, Religion gives to Mind 271 
 
 Heaven as balance ... 256 
 
 of Mahomet ... 267 
 
 Christian ... ... ... ... 267 
 
 Little Influence on Action 277 
 
 Hell, Influence on Action of ... 277 
 
 Balance to 277 
 
 Hero-Worship 167-168, 170 
 
 ,, Religion practical 182 
 
 History, when Supernatural Intervention expected ... 12 
 
 under Dominion of Law ... ... 12-13 
 
 Panorama of ... 15-20 
 
 its use for Observation and Comparison 20-21 
 
 no Help to Guide future 22-23 
 
 no Help in choosing Ideals 29-30 
 
 no Guide to Conduct 30 
 
 no Guide to Action 31 
 
 ,, gets its Light from the Present ... ... ... 33-39 
 
 Platitudes of 36 
 
 Philosophical ... 39-43, 87 
 
 discarded as Standpoint 87 
 
 Honour, Laws of ... ... ... ... ... 142, 357 
 
 Human beings, Symbols of Cause 212 
 
 Humanity, as Aggregate 148 
 
 ,, as Organism ... ' ' 149-150 
 
 ,, as Great Being ... ... "... ... ... 149 
 
 not an Organism 152-154, 215 
 
 ,, High Priest of ... ... 151, 155 
 
 ,, as Religion, Confusion of Planes ... 207 
 
 ,, as Object both of Religion and Duty ... 183-184, 208 
 
 ,, and Religions, viewed Historically ... ... 206 
 
 ,, not Logically the Object of Religion ... ... 206-212 
 
 ,, like Religion, calls forth Reverence and Love ... ... 181 
 
 ,, Comte makes it object of Religious Sentiment ... ... 181 
 
 ,, not Object of Religious Sentiment ... 211-212 
 
 ,, greater than Ourselves .' 216 
 
 Huxley, Professor, and Popular Education 299 
 
 I 
 
 Ideal, of Justice ... ... 132-133, 135 
 
 World ... ... ... ... ... ... 140 
 
 ,, Law of Balances for 252, 255
 
 INDEX. 465 
 
 I'AGE 
 
 Ideal, World provided by Religion 252-253, 255-256, 424 
 
 ,, Aristocracy as 291-292 295 
 
 ,, cannot be realized until Material and Social Conditions are 
 
 ready 400-403, 441-442, 445 
 
 ,, Physical Prowess as 419-420- 
 
 ,, Rank and Title as 420-421 
 
 ,, must be point of Distinction and Inequality 420-421 
 
 ,, Forecast of Ascension of 421 
 
 of Race Advanced or Retarded by Religion 442,443, 
 
 ,, is Dynamical Power in Civilization 449- 
 
 ,, Religion enables the Individual to Realize 442 
 
 Ideals, Change and Rotation of 168-169 
 
 ,, bred of Material and Social Conditions 403,426 
 
 ,, National Necessities 419 
 
 ,, Upward Movement of 406 
 
 ,, Ascension of, depends on Equalization of Conditions... 418-420 
 
 slower than Rise of Justice 419 
 
 Outline of Rise of 419-420' 
 
 Identity of Men 152-154, 294 
 
 Comte's neglect of 151-155 
 
 Illative Sense, Cardinal Newman's 70, 72-75, 84 
 
 is Art, or Science applied 81-83. 
 
 Illusions, from want of Detachment ... 103-105,306 
 
 of Democracy 306-318. 
 
 Imagination, Comte's neglect of i5 x t 156-162 
 
 Men are led by 158-162,170- 
 
 ,, Carlyle sees Men are led by 165 
 
 . must be touched 213 
 
 Religion must inspire 214 
 
 ,, Humanity does not touch ... 214-217 
 
 Religion, product of Thought and 221 
 
 Incarnation 109, 137 
 
 India, Deities in 2 34 
 
 Individual, Elevation of, end of Nature and of Government 139-140, 171-172 
 
 Progress of, in History : 44 
 
 Individuation, Principle of ii3- XI 4 
 
 Instruments of IJ 3. 247 
 
 Inequality, Effects of 295-296 
 
 ,, Feudal and Industrial 35 2 
 
 Love of ' 359 
 
 Effects of Social 4 11 
 
 Ideal must be point of 420-421 
 
 Inferior. Relation of Superior and 34'35. 4 11 
 
 Infinite, Metaphysicians' use of the word 
 
 ,, Deity represented as 246-247 
 
 Institutions, seek to trace Origin in the Past X 3 
 
 Effect of Men on, and on Men 25-28
 
 ,466 -INDEX. 
 
 I'AGE 
 
 Instrument, Physical Science as 63 
 
 Cardinal Newman's ... ...72,82 
 
 Intellectual Belief, Religion, matter of ... ...225, 230-232 
 
 coloured by Emotion 236-238 
 
 Intelligence, World as a whole must be referred to 195 
 
 J 
 
 Jehovah ... ... 243, 244, 245, 246 
 
 Mercies of 355,362 
 
 Jews 245 
 
 Justice, how is it done ? ... ... ... ... 131-132 
 
 Ideal of ... 132 
 
 and Ring of Spectators ... 133 
 
 done by pressure of general Conscience ... 136 
 
 outline of rise of ... 412-414 
 
 impossible till conditions are equalized ... ... 414-416 
 
 extension of, by equalization of conditions 418 
 
 K 
 
 Kant, Categories of 53 
 
 and Spencer 58 
 
 Knowledge, distinction between it and Belief 186 
 
 Knox 384 
 
 L 
 
 Law, Comte's, of the Three Stages 42 
 
 that men are alike in essential Nature ... 152,154 
 
 that men are led by Imagination 159 
 
 on which number of Gods depends 179,240 
 
 on which character of Gods depends 240 
 
 that things make their own Morality ... ... 396, 397, 404, 447 
 
 ,, of Balances in Mind ... 251 
 
 ,, and Evolution compared ... 250
 
 INDEX. 467 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Law of Balances in the Ideal World 252 
 
 in Religion 253-258, 266 
 
 ,, ,, Law of Evolution, Corollary of 249- 
 
 of Evolution gives no guarantee of Ascension 269- 
 
 of Might 269,419 
 
 ,, of Wills and Causes 112 
 
 ,, Examples of 178-179' 
 
 ,, ,, determines stages of Religion ... 179,426- 
 
 ,, Comte gets rid of the Deity by 180 
 
 leads to belief in Deity 192 
 
 Far-reachingness of 192-193 
 
 ,, ,, Fallacy in Comte's deduction from 194 
 
 ,, Miracles expected from 233 
 
 ,, intellectual side of Law of Reflexion ... 240 
 
 Laws, of Honour 142- 
 
 neglected by Comte 151 
 
 Carlyle 168 
 
 ,, on which Religions are constructed 221,239 
 
 I concentrate on, not on Circumstances 223 
 
 of Nature, Assent to uniformity of 70-72, 76, 8o-8r 
 
 ,, not object of Religion 181 
 
 cannot give Sense of Security 268 
 
 ,, cannot guarantee Ascension 269' 
 
 of Mind, the new Organon 89- 
 
 ,, standpoint of interpretation 91 
 
 ,, Shakespeare and 94-95- 
 
 ,, must be detached 95-96 
 
 ,, Goethe, Bacon, Emerson, Carlyle 97-101 
 
 Legislation, Class i35> 
 
 ,, follows Power ... 136- 
 
 must provide for expansion 141 
 
 Likeness essential of men 152-154, 294 
 
 Local Legislatures 322-323, 330- 
 
 Locke 52, 53. 7<> 
 
 Lords, House of 289- 
 
 Luther and the Devil ... , "9. 3 8 4 
 
 M 
 
 Maine, Sir Henry 4*3- 
 
 Majority, Tyranny of 3S4-35& 
 
 Contempt of Aristocracies for 354
 
 468 INDEX. 
 
 I'AliE 
 
 Manners, Importance of 372 
 
 ,, in Aristocracies and Democracies Contrasted ... 373-377 
 
 Matter, Attractive and Repulsive Forces of, not Scientifically known 190 
 
 Metaphorical use of the word " Religion " 210 
 
 Metaphors ' ... 93 
 
 Metaphysical Analysis 52-54 
 
 Metaphysicians' use of Infinite and Absolute ... 49-52 
 
 Metaphysics deals with Words 48 
 
 Theological 50 
 
 ends in Analysis 52-54 
 
 not the Organon required ... 54-55, 88 
 
 The Old 60-61 
 
 Effect on Religion and Practical Life of 61 
 
 Practical Effects of 63 
 
 Method, New, for Problem of Civilization 90 
 
 My, different from Herbert Spencer's 223 
 
 Mill, Stuart, takes stand on Progress 139 
 
 his use of " Religion," metaphorically ... 210 
 
 on American War 237 
 
 Mind, how Built up 57 
 
 Connexion between Brain and ... ... ... ... ... 62 
 
 as Standpoint of Interpretation 65 
 
 Laws of Human, as Organon ... ... 89-90 
 
 Thinkers who used, as Organon 91 
 
 Shakespeare's knowledge of 94-95 
 
 Laws of, must be Detached 95-Q6 
 
 Goethe, Bacon, Emerson, Carlyle 97-101 
 
 Science of 102 
 
 its Existence not Scientifically known ... 188 
 
 its Superiority to Matter not Scientifically known 189 
 
 ,, Religion constructed on Laws of 239 
 
 and Matter ... 250 
 
 Action of Law of Balances on 251 
 
 must Balance itself ... 249,251,266 
 
 Effects of Religion on ... 271,272,426 
 
 Mirabeau ... 384 
 
 Miracles, Belief in 38,124 
 
 ,, Expected 127,233 
 
 ,, if one, why not another ? ... ... ... 233 
 
 ,, in Scientific Period and in Theological ... 314 
 
 Monopolies 352 
 
 Monotony of Democracies and Aristocracies ... 364-365 
 
 Moral, Codes of Classes ... ... ... 417 
 
 ,, Sentiment ... ... ... ... ... ... 131 
 
 Morality, Class 286 
 
 ,, Two Codes of 302 
 
 ,, and Supernaturalism ... ... ... ... ... ... 314
 
 INDEX. 469 
 
 Morality and Religion, Root of 3^ 
 
 ,, what it depends on 314-315 
 
 ,, not bound up in any Religion 315 
 
 ,, Contempt for in Aristocracies ... 354 
 
 ,, Effect of Circumstances on 358-360 
 
 of Democracies 360 
 
 ,, Civilization advanced by Preaching of 388 
 
 ,, Comte and Carlyle, and Exhortation to 389-392 
 
 Things make their own 396-398 
 
 depends on Conditions of Life 396 
 
 ,, grows out of Material and Social Conditions 397 
 
 ,, will correspond with Culture 398 
 
 ,, Equalization of Conditions necessary for Advance of ... 415 
 
 ,, must wait till Conditions are ready 446 
 
 Mormonism 232 
 
 Mtiller, Max, on Nirvana 258 
 
 N 
 
 Nature, end of, expansion of Individual 140-141 
 
 ,, Laws of, cannot be object of Religion 181 
 
 ,, ,, give sense of security 268 
 
 ,, ,, can give no guarantee of Progress 270 
 
 ,, Comte leaves it a corpse 217-219 
 
 ,, Powers of, tamed ... 241 
 
 ,, ,, Deities to Savage 241-242 
 
 ,, Gods... ... 243 
 
 ,, Cruelty of 246 
 
 ,, as represented by Law of Evolution and Law of Balances 
 
 respectively 250 
 
 ,, Man's fear in presence of ... 268 
 
 Neglect, of Law of Wills and Causes ' 112 
 
 ,, Comte's, of Imagination 156-162 
 
 ,, Carlyle's, of certain Laws 168 
 
 ,, of element of Time 311-312 
 
 Newman, Cardinal 53 
 
 ,, ,, his Character and Object 68-69 
 
 ,, ,, on Assent and Inference 70-72 
 
 ,, ,, discards Science 70-72, 82 
 
 5) how he determines the True Religion 72-74 
 
 his " Illative Sense " 72-75,84-85 
 
 ,, Art is his Illative Sense 81-83 
 
 and Laws of Mind 102 
 
 makes Satisfaction of Feelings ground of assent... 124
 
 470 INDEX. 
 
 ,,. . PAGE 
 
 Nirvana 258- 
 
 Nobility, Hereditary, Uses of 319 
 
 Novelists and Laws of Human Mind 103 
 
 o 
 
 O'Connell 338 
 
 Opinion, Public ... 118, 282, 314, 315 
 
 Tyranny of 356 
 
 Orator, Admiration of ... 335 
 
 Illusion about ... 335 
 
 Status of, and of Thinker ... ... ... 336 
 
 Qualities admired in ... ... ... 344 
 
 Oratory in Democracies and in Aristocracies ... ... ... ... 337 
 
 at Debating Society 338-344 
 
 at House of Commons 344 
 
 Order ... ... ... 139 
 
 Comte on ... ... 146-148 
 
 and Duty not ends ... ... ... ... ... 172 
 
 Organism, Carlyle regards Society as an ... ... ... ... ... 164 
 
 Humanity as an ...149-151,215 
 
 ,, not an 152-154. 2I 5 
 
 Society not an ... ... 445 
 
 Organon, New ... 89 
 
 My, not a new discovery ... 90 
 
 Cardinal Newman's 81-82 
 
 Origin of Religions, Herbert Spencer on... ... ... ... 221-222 
 
 Supernatural ... 221 
 
 of Things, Religions explain ... ... 263 
 
 explained according to stage of culture ... 263-264 
 
 Panorama of History 15-20 
 
 Past, Interpret, from Present .^ ... 35-39, 42 
 
 ,, a succession of Periods, not Ages ... ... 312-313 
 
 Paul, St 260 
 
 People, Contempt of Aristocracy for ... 354 
 
 Period, Theological ... ...313,316-317 
 
 Periods, Past, A succession of 312 
 
 Persistence of Force 81
 
 INDEX. 
 
 47' 
 
 Persistence of Force, Herbert Spencer's double use of 65-67 
 
 ,, not scientifically known 189-190 
 
 Philistine ... 368 
 
 Philosophy, Religion as 264-265, 281 
 
 ,, in Advance of Religion 265 
 
 Phrenology 369 
 
 Physical Science not Standpoint of Interpretation 63-65 
 
 Plato 265,395 
 
 Polarity, Evolution, Corollary of Law of 249 
 
 Politics, Party 345 
 
 Power of Detachment 90,91,95-96 
 
 ,1 Want of 103-105, 306, 315 
 
 Powers of Mature, Gods as Personifications of 241-242 
 
 Present, to Understand 23 
 
 Press and Politicians deal with Material Interests only ... 288-289 
 
 on Lords 289 
 
 and Literary Men 300-301, 348 
 
 and Statesman 348 
 
 Priests, Importance of, in Eastern Civilizations 436 
 
 Priesthood and Scientists, Agreement of 226 
 
 Progress 139 
 
 ,, Comte and 147 
 
 My own Theory of ... ... ... 393 
 
 Psychology, Effect of, on Religion 59 
 
 ends in Analysis 59 
 
 Public Conscience secures Justice 132 
 
 Opinion 118 
 
 its effects on Action ... 282 
 
 and Morality 3 1 4*3 1 5 
 
 Sentiment, Ring of Spectators 133 
 
 y 
 
 Quality not distinguishable by Physical Science 65 
 
 R 
 
 Railway Kings 33. 353 
 
 Reflex Action 3^ 
 
 Reformation arose out of Wants of Time 395 
 
 2 I
 
 472 INDEX. 
 
 PACK 
 
 Relation in which Men stand to the Deity 249 
 
 Religion, to determine which is True 72, 74 
 
 of Fear 108 
 
 satisfying Feeling no test of its Truth 122 
 
 A, founded on Science 127-128 
 
 ofCarlyle 165 
 
 of Humanity, not believed only by Comtists I 73- I 74 
 
 how it arose in the mind of Comte 174 
 
 constructed on Law of Balances ... 258 
 
 Invisible Wills as objects of ... 175 
 
 Laws of Nature not objects of 181 
 
 Practical Hero-worship 182 
 
 ,, Object of, with Human Attributes 182 
 
 Humanity not logically object of 206-212 
 
 Its subject-matter on the Plane of Transcendental ... 206-207 
 
 changes its object 207 
 
 Comte' s Fallacy as to object of ... ... ... ... 207 
 
 Duty and, identical with Comte ... ... ... ... 208 
 
 and Science, Reconciliation of ... 209 
 
 Metaphorical use of the word 210 
 
 refers to Cause ... ... ... 211 
 
 Herbert Spencer's Theory of Origin of ... 221 
 
 Circumstances which give rise to 223 
 
 its effects on Action ... 223-224,273,281,283. 
 
 an Intellectual Belief ... ... 225, 230-235 
 
 a matter of Conduct and Morality ... ... 227 
 
 Faith 227-229 
 
 not a matter of Faith ... ... ... ... 230-231,235 
 
 a matter of Emotion ... 231,235-238 
 
 Laws on which it is constructed 239 
 
 product of Thought and Cultnre ... ... 239,240,248,379 
 
 Cause, subject-matter of ... ... ... ... ... 239 
 
 behind or in advance of Culture ... ... 245 
 
 as Balance ... 252, 258, 266, 267, 424 
 
 opens up Ideal World 255,424 
 
 Expediency in 260-261 
 
 satisfies demand for Cause ... ... ... ... ... 263. 
 
 Heart and Imagination ... 265-267 
 
 Functions of ... ... 263, 266, 424 
 
 in its character of Philosophy 264,265,281,427 
 
 ,, a Philosophy of the Masses ... ... 264-265 
 
 lags behind Philosophy 265 
 
 gives Sense of Security 268, 424 
 
 Underpin Evolution with 269 
 
 ,, gives promise of Progress and Ascension 269-270 
 
 meaning to Hierarchy of Qualities ... 271 
 
 its effect on the Mind 271,272,426-
 
 INDEX. 473 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Religion, its Effect in early Civilizations 273 
 
 to affect Action, must be adapted to Stage of Culture 274-276 
 
 its effect on Action varies with Temperament 276 
 
 of the Future 277 
 
 its effects on Action, Summary of Complications 280 
 
 no effect on Action 281 
 
 when it runs counter to Necessities of Surroundings ... 282 
 
 as Philosophy 264-265, 281, 427 
 
 and the Element of Time 312 
 
 . and Morality, Root of 314 
 
 .,, Christian, Arose out of Wants of Time 395 
 
 .,, Effects of 423-424 
 
 Normal function to maintain status quo ... ... 428-431 
 
 . Supplement of Science 428-429, 436 
 
 Stages of 433 
 
 .,, its development into Higher Forms by aid of Mental 
 
 Science ... 439-440 
 
 enables the Individual to realize Ideal 442 
 
 . advances or retards Progress of Race, according to Insight 
 
 embodied in its Philosophy 442-444 
 
 cannot jump the element of Time 445 
 
 Christian, description of its Fortunes 451 
 
 Religions all constructed on Law of Balances 256-257 
 
 Genius of Founders of 259 
 
 as Philosophies broken down by Science 433, 439 
 
 Review of various, of the World 443-444 
 
 Religious Dogmas not intuitive 229 
 
 Enthusiasm 279, 283 
 
 Sentiment, Comte's object of 180-181 
 
 feelings which make up 181, 211 
 
 Revelation, Belief in it Natural ... 2 3 J 
 
 Revolution, French ... .,. ... 395 
 
 Right, Love of 45 
 
 Ring of Spectators X 33 
 
 s 
 
 Scheme of Salvation 226,228 
 
 Science of Politics 2 4 
 
 Physical, influence of 45 
 
 n ,, not standpoint of interpretation 63-65 
 
 and the Illative Sense 8 3" 8 5 
 
 of Mind I02 
 
 its Great Works Il8
 
 474 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Science, a Religion founded on 127-128- 
 
 ,, deals with Laws not Causes 177 
 
 ignores Deity 177 
 
 ., Truths which cannot be known by ... ... 188 
 
 cannot know Persistence of Force ... 190 
 
 and the Will 201 
 
 Complement of Religion ... ...428-429,436 
 
 Impelling Factor in Civilization 431 
 
 Effect of, in Improving and Equalizing Men's Conditions 431-432 
 in breaking down Religions as Philosophies 433, 439- 
 
 Civilizations without 434-435 
 
 its absence causes Stagnation of Eastern Civilization 438-439- 
 
 Mental Effect of, in raising Religion into higher forms 439-440 
 
 must animate World with Soul ... 452 
 
 will advance Civilization by Equalizing Conditions ... 452-453. 
 
 Scientific Causation ... ... 200-201 
 
 Knowledge, want of, caused by Material and Social 
 
 Conditions 435-436 
 
 ,, Knowledge, want of, in Eastern Civilizations caused by 
 
 Supremacy of Priests 436-437 
 
 Thinkers as agents in Civilization ... ... 431 
 
 Scientist in search of Harmony no 
 
 Shakespeare interprets Past from Present ... ... ... ... 35. 
 
 his method 35-3& 
 
 his style ...91-95 
 
 Sight and Belief, Relations of 448 
 
 Sin and Evil referred to Devil ... ... 107,111,11? 
 
 no longer referable to Devil 112-113 
 
 Instruments of Individuation ... 113-114 
 
 not positive but excess merely 115 
 
 not ends ... 116 
 
 from the standpoint of Ascetic 115-116 
 
 Society provides for exercise of Passions ... 115. 
 
 as a whole ... ... 139,149,153, 
 
 as a machine ... 154 
 
 Carlyle's view of ... ... 163. 
 
 Comte regards, as an Organism ... 164 
 
 not an Organism ... ... .. 152-154, 215, 445. 
 
 Debating, described ... 338-344 
 
 Debating and House of Commons 344 
 
 Sociology 24, 148- 
 
 Spencer, Herbert, his theory of Evolution and how it was built up ...41-42 
 
 announces unit of Nervous System 57-58 
 
 and Kant 58- 
 
 his two uses of Persistence of Force 65-67 
 
 takes Physical Science as standpoint of Interpretation 65 
 
 his attempt to reconcile Religion and Science 66, 209,
 
 INDEX. 
 
 475 
 
 Spencer, Herbert, differs from Bacon, Emerson, &c 102 
 
 ,, takes stand on Progress 139- 
 
 and Anthropomorphism 199 
 
 >, his theory of Origin of Religions 221 
 
 concentrates on Circumstances, not on Laws ... 223. 
 
 and Law of Balances 249 
 
 his theory of Civilization 385 
 
 Spinoza, Anthropomorphism of 198. 
 
 Spirit of Christ 126 
 
 Spiritual Power of Comte 151,156 
 
 of Middle Ages 160 
 
 ,, the Press ... 161 
 
 Standpoint of Interpretation, Physical Science as 63-65 
 
 States, United, Local Legislatures of, compared with Hereditary 
 
 Nobility 322 
 
 Statesman, Unimportance of, in America 326,348^ 
 
 Exaggerated idea of 345 
 
 Statesmanship, Practical 24 
 
 Supernatural, Drama of Human Destiny shifted to in 
 
 Supernaturalism expected to Return 312 
 
 neglects Law of Wills and Causes 120 
 
 ,, separates Men 123. 
 
 ,, Narrow Sympathies 125-126 
 
 and Morality ... 314 
 
 Supernaturalist in search of Satisfaction for Feelings 107-111 
 
 lays stress on Emotion 121 
 
 ,, appeals to Feelings as Test of Truth 122-123 
 
 Superstition, why not Revived 234 
 
 Symbols, Great Men as 165,211 
 
 ,, Human Beings, of Divine Cause 212 
 
 Importance of 211-212 
 
 T 
 
 Temperament and Religion 276 
 
 Temporal Power of Comte 151,156 
 
 Middle Ages 160 
 
 Ten Commandments J 43> 357 
 
 Theist, Why I am a l8& 
 
 Theologians, Influence of 260 
 
 Theological Period 313. 3*6 
 
 Theories of the World, Bulky 4 
 
 Thinkers, Political, not chosen as Guides 288-289, 347 
 
 Scientific, as agents in Civilization 450
 
 -476 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Three Bankers 151,155 
 
 Time, Neglect of Element of 311-312 
 
 ,, in Politics 316-317 
 
 ,, Source of Endless Wailings 446 
 
 Element of, no Religion can jump 445 
 
 Thucydides 407-408 
 
 "Times," The 400 
 
 Tocqueville, De ... ... ... 354, 368 
 
 To-day ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 407 
 
 Insight into ... ... ... ... 87 
 
 Trade-honour... ... ... ... ... 357 
 
 Tradition, power of ... ... 261 
 
 Tribal Gods 243 
 
 Truth relative to Human Mind 186 
 
 what will harmonize ? ... ... 187 
 
 love of, dynamic force in Civilization ... 450 
 
 Truths which cannot be known by Science 188 
 
 which must be taken for granted 188,228,229 
 
 Are Christian Dogmas, which must be taken for granted ? 228-229 
 Tyndall, Professor, on Religion 213, 236 
 
 u 
 
 Utopia, Comte's ... 156-158, 390 
 
 V 
 
 Valhalla 267 
 
 W 
 
 Will, Sin referred to 112 
 
 Cause of whole must be referred to ... 196 
 
 Involved in Causation 200 
 
 Scientific Account of ... 201 
 
 Effects of denying Real Existence of ... ... 201 
 
 ,, Our only Experience of Cause ... 203
 
 INDEX. 477 
 
 PAGK 
 
 Wills and Causes, Law of 112,178-17^ 
 
 n- i. stages of Religion determined by ... 179,426 
 
 .1 ,, M Number of Gods depends on ... 179,240 
 
 Effect on Religion of 179 
 
 Comte gets rid of Deity by 180 
 
 ,, leads to Belief in Deity 192, 196 
 
 ,, ,, Fallacy in Comte's deduction from ... 194 
 
 Effect of, when known 192-193 
 
 Miracles expected from 233 
 
 Example of 427 
 
 Working-man, Comte's 157 
 
 World, ground plan of 113: 
 
 outside us not Scientifically known 188 
 
 Limited 247 
 
 as a whole must be referred to Supreme Intelligence 426-
 
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