{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_56821/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_56821","id":"gutenberg_56821","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56821","summary":null,"tags":["Aristotle, 384 BC-322 BC","Category: History - Ancient","Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: History - Religious","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Christian ethics","Ethics -- Greece","Ethics -- History","Socrates, 470 BC-399 BC","Utilitarianism"],"text":"Produced by David Thomas\n\n\n\n\n FOUR PHASES OF MORALS\n\n SOCRATES, ARISTOTLE,\n CHRISTIANITY, UTILITARIANISM.\n\n\n BY\n JOHN STUART BLACKIE, F.R.S.E.\n PROFESSOR OF GREEK IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH\n\n SECOND EDITION.\n\n EDINBURGH\n EDMONSTON AND DOUGLAS\n 1874.\n\n\n\n TO\n SIR HENRY HOLLAND, BART.,\n\n M.D., D.C.L.,\n\n PRESIDENT OF THE ROYAL INSTITUTION OP GREAT\n BRITAIN, ETC. ETC.\n\n\nDEAR SIR,--As the substance of this book was originally delivered in\nthe form of Lectures before the Royal Institution, London, I was\nnaturally led, in giving my notes a more exact expression and a larger\nillustration, to do so in connexion with your name--a name which,\nbesides its official significance in all that concerns the Albemarle\nStreet Institution, was recommended to me by that remarkable\ncombination of rare experience of life, enlightened scholarship, and\nvarious knowledge of men and places, which, more than the greatest\nmetaphysical acuteness, or the most extensive academical learning,\nenables a man to be a sound judge of those important practical\nquestions with which the science of Ethics is occupied. As by the\narrangements of the season--1869--of which my course formed a part,\nthe number of Lectures was limited to four, and as I determined to\ntreat the subject in the concrete historically, rather than in the\nform of abstract discussion, it necessarily happened that the four\nphases of morals to which I specially directed attention, viewed in\nreference to the whole system of ethical doctrine, presented an\nincomplete and fragmentary aspect. I endeavoured however, under these\nlimitations, to bring forward those historical manifestations of moral\ntruth which both afforded a ready occasion for discussing some of the\nmost fundamental questions of Ethics, and, from historical and local\nconsiderations, were most fitted to be presented to a British audience\nat the present day. At the same time, there runs through the four\ndiscourses a unity of thought and tendency beyond what the title\nindicates, and which those who are competent to judge will easily\nrecognise. Hoping that you will find nothing in this book but what has\nbeen \u201cattained with honesty, and maintained with moderation\u201d--the\ntest of excellence in such matters which yourself have wisely\nindicated,--and that you may be able to accord to these Discourses in\ntheir written form some portion of that approbation which your\npresence conferred on their oral delivery,\n\n          I am,\n            DEAR SIR,\n              Yours, with sincere esteem,\n                JOHN STUART BLACKIE.\n\n UNIVERSITY, EDINBURGH,\n   _October_ 1871.\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n SOCRATES\n ARISTOTLE\n CHRISTIANITY\n UTILITARIANISM\n\n\n\nSOCRATES.\n\n{1}\n\nAS there is no country which can boast the honour of possessing more\nnames of a world-wide significance than Greece, so among those who\nhold this lofty position there is no name superior to Socrates,\nconcerning whom the Delphic oracle in ancient times, and a great\nutilitarian authority in modern times, agree in testifying that he was\nthe wisest of the wise Greeks.[1.1] And though stout old Cato, in\nancient times, as Plutarch informs us, gruffly enough expressed his\nopinion that the son of Sophroniscus was a pernicious old babbler,\nwhose breath was justly stopped by the cup of hemlock which he drank\nfor his last supper--in harmony with whom the benign old dogmatist\nwhom the modern utilitarians revere as their patriarch declares that\nSocrates and Plato wasted their lives in talking nonsense under the\npretence of teaching philosophy,[1.2]--yet these negative utterances,\nfew and far between, against the fair fame of the father of moral\nscience, have died away almost as quickly as uttered, and are now no\nmore heard in the grand organ-swell of the general admiration of more\nthan two thousand years. {2} Unquestionably if there be any name,\nafter the great Founder of the Christian faith, which is entitled to\nclaim the title of a preacher of righteousness for all times and all\nplaces, it is the name of Socrates; and it is with the view of\nbringing his high merits in tins respect before the general public, in\nas easy a way as is consistent with scholarly accuracy, that I have\nundertaken to write the present paper.\n\nThe subject is one peculiarly attractive to a thinking man, not only\non its own merits, but because of the ample and thoroughly trustworthy\nmaterials which we possess for forming a correct judgment. We are not\nhere, as in the case of Pythagoras, sent to fish for fragments of\ntruth among fanciful writers who lived several hundred years after the\ndeath of the object of their transcendental laudations; but, as in the\ngospel history, we have to deal with the intimate disciples and daily\ncompanions of the great hero of the story. We gather our knowledge of\nthe life and philosophy of Socrates from Xenophon and Plato, both of\nwhom have reported their intercourse with the philosopher in a tone of\nmingled admiration and sobriety which leaves no ground for suspicion.\nOnly with regard to Plato we must take with us this caution, that he\nwas both a poet by temperament and by mental habit a system-builder;\nand, as he chose to set forth his own speculations in a series of\ndramatic dialogues wherein Socrates is the chief speaker, we must\nbeware of accepting, as standing on one common basis, the facts with\nregard to the life of Socrates brought forward in these compositions\nand the doctrines which are put into his mouth. With regard to the\nformer, we may accept Plato\u2019s evidence as a contemporary authority\nwith the {3} utmost confidence; with regard to the latter, we must be\nconstantly on our guard; and indeed, according to my view, it is wise\nnever to accept any statement of Socrates\u2019s doctrine from Plato, of\nwhich the germ at least does not lie plainly in Xenophon. For\nXenophon, just because he was a less original man than Plato, a\npleasing and graceful writer, somewhat on the level of our Addison,\nwas for that reason free from the temptation, or rather had not the\ncapacity, to interpolate anything into his account of the philosopher\nwhich was not consistent with the actual fact. He was a plain man,\nwith no theories to support, and no pretensions to maintain; and as a\nfaithful contemporary recorder of what he heard and saw, a more\ncapable and trustworthy witness could not be desired. We shall\ntherefore draw our sketch of the life and sayings of the great\nAthenian preacher mainly from his pleasant little book, introducing\nthe idealist of the Academy only where he cannot be suspected of using\nhis revered master as a mere dramatic engine, or where his superior\nliterary powers have enabled him to paint a more effective picture.\n\nThe age of Socrates was the age of Pericles, the culminating epoch of\nAthenian glory; he was contemporary with Euripides, Sophocles,\nHerodotus, Thucydides, Hippocrates, Democritus, Anaxagoras,\nAristophanes, Phidias; but, while he shared all the elevating\ninfluences of this ascendant age, growing with its growth and\nblossoming with its blossom, he was not spared the sorrow of quitting\nthe scene beneath the first dark shadows of its decay. That military\nambition which is as much the besetting sin of democracy as of\nautocracy, had precipitated the Athenians, during the latter part of\nthe fifth century {4} before Christ, into a distant expedition which\ncrippled their energies and exhausted their resources; all this, and\ncertain violent revolutionary changes which arose out of it, Socrates\nhad to live through, till at last, a few years before his death, he\nsaw the pride of Periclean Athens laid prostrate at the feet of\nLysander and the rude oligarchy of Laced\u00e6mon. He was born in the year\n469 B.C., eleven years after the naval battle of Salamis which freed\nEurope for ever from the apprehension of Asiatic servitude, exactly at\nthe time when the brilliant but sober policy of Pericles commenced its\nlong period of happy sway over the fortunes of the Athenian state. At\nthis time Simonides and the other great poets who had seen and sung\nthe glorious victories of Marathon and Salamis were swiftly departing\nfrom the scene; but the memory of those patriotic achievements still\nburned vigorously in every Athenian breast, and conspired, with the\nbirth of new and ambitious intellectual aspirations, to surround the\nyouth of the philosopher with an atmosphere the most favourable to\nsocial and intellectual progress. The importance which the\nachievements of the democracy at Marathon and Salamis gave to the\nmiddle and lower classes of society at Athens, broke down the barriers\nwhich ancient aristocratic exclusiveness might have raised against the\npretensions of mere character without position; so that Socrates,\nthough the son of a stone-cutter, and not, like Plato, drawing his\nblood from the old Attic aristocracy, seems to have found free\nentrance into the society of the most distinguished public and\nliterary men of his age. His mother, as he himself took care to inform\nthe world, was a \u201cright worthy and worshipful {5} \u03bc\u03b1\u1fd6\u03b1,\u201d or\nlady-obstetrician; a \u201cwise woman,\u201d as the French say, in matters\nwhere it seems most natural that women should be specially wise; her\nname was Ph\u00e6narete; but in social position, according to our\naristocratic way of talking, she was nobody. What Socrates\u2019s own\nprofession was, or how he supported himself, a very important point in\nthe history of all public men, we unfortunately do not know exactly;\nthat he practised stone-cutting in his early years is not improbable;\nand this may have given rise to the belief mentioned by Pausanias,\nthat a group of the Graces at the entrance of the Propyl\u00e6a was his\nwork; but there is not the slightest indication either in Xenophon or\nPlato that he continued to practise this art, or any other art, in\nafter life. He had therefore no profession; and, as he made no money\nby his philosophy, we must believe that he had been left some small\ncompetence by his father, or some relation, on which he was content to\nlive. That he was extremely poor we know, both from Xenophon and from\nhis own account of himself before the jury at his trial. We know also\nthat his habits of life were remarkably plain and frugal, that he\nrequired little money, and coveted none. That he was in a position to\nhave made money if he had chosen there can be no doubt; but he\nexpressly states that he had relinquished all projects for increasing\nhis income, in order that he might devote himself without distraction\nto the great work of his life. However, with his philosophical notions\nabout mere external grandeur, he seems to have been rich enough to\nlive comfortably with a wife and family. This wife was the noted\nXanthippe, not always the most pleasant companion, and, perhaps not\naltogether {6} without reason, from her point of view, at variance\nwith a husband who showed such utter indifference to worldly\naggrandizement and domestic display; but for this touch of sharpness\nin the temper only, as he argued, the better fitted to be the wife of\na philosopher, or to make a philosopher of her husband; for, as men\nwho wish to learn to ride do not choose the meekest and most docile\nbeast that they can find, but the most spirited, so the husband who\nwishes to rule a wife well should have such an one as it is not easy\nbut difficult to control. This character of the philosopher\u2019s wife\nrests on the authority of Xenophon; Plato nowhere alludes to it; and\nwhatever her temper might have been, Socrates certainly did not\nconsider it so bad as to justify his sons in withholding from her the\nusual love and reverence due from children to their parents; for\n\u201cyou may be sure,\u201d he said, \u201cif she is a little cross sometimes,\nit is for your good; and there is a reason in her objurgations which a\nwise son ought to acknowledge.\u201d\n\nHaving no special occupation or profession in life, Socrates might\nperhaps have passed in Athens for an idle man, a lounger about the\nstreets, and public talker, had there not sprung up about this time a\nclass of men professing to be teachers of eloquence and of all wisdom,\nwith whom he was brought into connexion. These were the Sophists, a\nname which means nothing more than professors or teachers of wisdom.\nLike these men, Socrates was always seen in the streets and public\nplaces of Athens, conversing with the clever young men, and publicly\ndebating all points of speculative and practical interest. He was\ntherefore in outward appearance and to the {7} general eye a mere\nSophist among Sophists. For it is not everybody who cares to know that\ntwo men who fight with the same weapons and in the same style of fence\nmay be fighting for very different causes, on opposite sides, and with\naltogether contrary results. But the truth behind the appearance was,\nthat while the majority of these Sophists taught eloquence as a trade,\nand logical training as an affair of intellectual exhibition, Socrates\npreached virtue as a mission, and the exercise of right reason as the\nonly means of obtaining virtue. We say _mission_ here not as a\nfashionable phrase of the day, but with a special emphasis; for it is\nquite certain, both from the speech of the philosopher at his trial,\nand from not a few passages in Xenophon, that he devoted his life to\nself-improvement in the first place, and to the improvement of his\nfellow-citizens in the second place, with the conscientious\ndevotedness of a man who was strongly impressed with the conviction,\nthat this employment was assigned to him direct from God, whose high\ninjunction he was not at liberty to neglect. His language with regard\nto this is in a precisely similar tone to that of St. Paul when he\nwrites, \u201c_Woe is me if I preach not the gospel_.\u201d The human source\nthrough which he got this mission some writers have been curious to\ntrace, alleging that his master was Anaxagoras, and other things to\nthat effect; but there is no hint of this either in Xenophon or Plato;\nand in fact it is foolish to go in search of a master for a man so\nthoroughly original, so distinct and decided a protester against all\nwho had gone before him. We may be assured, at least, that in the\nmoral philosophy which was the burden of all his teaching, he had no\nmaster but {8} himself (as indeed Xenophon makes him say in express\nwords) and the God to whom he habitually referred his highest\ninspirations; while in regard to other matters he had enjoyed the\ncommon training of all Athenians in music, poetry, gymnastics, and a\nlittle mathematics to boot--a science which, since the days of Thales\n(600 B.C.) and Pythagoras (550 B.C.), had occupied a conspicuous place\nin the higher culture of the Athenians. Of the exact date when he\nassumed a prominent position as a public teacher of wisdom and virtue\nwe have no exact account; it is natural however to suppose, from the\nsobriety and solidity of his character, and from the long-continued\nquiet search after truth which occupied him in his early years, that\nhe did not suddenly emerge into notoriety, but grew up step by step\ninto that general acknowledgment of superior wisdom, on which,\naccording to a well-accredited account, the Delphic oracle was not\nafraid to put its seal. Certain it is that in the year 423 B.C., when\nhe was about forty-seven years of age, he was such a notable character\nin Athens as to have been brought upon the stage by the broad license\nof Attic comedy as the representative of the whole class of Sophists,\nwith whom, by the superficial eye, he was naturally confounded. We\nmust suppose therefore that his reputation as a great public talker\nand debater had been gradually growing, up to that period. And no\ndoubt, even if he had been a man of less original talent, there was\nsomething about his personal appearance and character that could not\nfail to make him the mark of general observation among the busy-idle\ncommunity of Athens. He was no less odd in his features and in his\nmanner than in his doctrines; an \u1f04\u03c4\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 or {9} eccentric person\nIn the general opinion, whom no man knew exactly what to make of. His\nfeatures, the very reverse of classical, are familiar to all the\nfrequenters of our public museums; and are, besides, minutely\ndescribed by both his illustrious disciples. His general appearance\nwas that of a Silenus or Satyr, with a flat, somewhat turned-up, nose,\nfull prominent eyes, big lips, and in later life, as appears from the\nmonuments, a bald head; but these defects were of no avail, even with\nthe beauty-loving Athenians, to diminish the charm of his conversation\nand the power of his address. For, as Alcibiades says in the Platonic\ndialogue, where he is one of the chief speakers, he was a Satyr only\nexternally, but internally full of wonderful shapes and sights of\ngods, like certain hollow figures full of pipes and tubes, seen in the\nstatuaries\u2019 shops, which outwardly were shaped like Sileni, but\nwithin contained a machinery of beautiful sacred images. So, as is\nwont to happen to wise men, his loss became his gain, and his uncomely\nphysiognomy, to all that entered into conversation with him, was the\ncause of an agreeable surprise. Very different in this from a great\nmodern poet, who was sensitive about his club-foot, the Athenian\nphilosopher made a jest of his unclassical nose, saying that if noses\nwere to be valued as they ought to be, by their fitness for performing\nthe proper functions of a nose, his olfactory organ was better than\nthose noses whose shape was vulgarly accounted more classical; for the\nupward cast of his open nostrils made them more ready to receive\nsmells from all quarters, while the comparative flatness of his nasal\nprotuberance removed it from the possibility of interfering with the\nfree {10} vision of his eyes; and as to the prominency of these his\norgans of vision, this was a manifest excellence even more than the\nconformation of his nose, inasmuch as it enabled him to look, not only\nstraight before him in the way that most eyes do, bat sideways also,\nand almost all round, so that he could see when no one suspected him\nof looking at them.\n\nBut it was not only his general oddity, his pleasant humour, and his\nwisdom seasoned with salt that made him a noticeable man amid the\nbrilliant society of Athens: he was moreover a thoroughly healthy man,\nof great powers of endurance, a valiant soldier when his country\nrequired his services, and a good bottle-companion when piety towards\nDionysus, or any occasion of social festivity, according to Attic\nusage, demanded that men should drink largely. On these points we have\na graphic picture put by Plato into the mouth of Alcibiades, which, to\ncomplete our personal portrait here, it will not be amiss to\ntranslate.\n\n\u201cWhen we were together in the campaign at Potid\u00e6a, and I messed\nwith him every day, I found that in the power of enduring toil he\nsurpassed not only me but all the soldiers in the camp. For when, as\nsometimes will happen on the march, we might be at a loss for a\ndinner, Socrates could always fast with the least complaint; while, on\nthe other hand, at our banquetings and junketings he always enjoyed\neverything in the most hearty way; and when he was forced to drink,\neven though not willingly, he could drain cup for cup with the\nstoutest bottle-companion in the camp; and, what is strangest of all,\neven after our stiffest bouts no one ever saw Socrates drunk. And as\nto cold and frost, I remember {11} well, one night in one of those\nsevere Macedonian winters, when there was a very biting frost, and\nevery man either stayed within or went out well encased in warm\nsheepskin jackets and felt shoes, Socrates alone went about in the\nopen air with no other covering than his common mantle, and trod the\nfrosted ground with his bare feet more lightly than others did with\ntheir warm shoes. But I must tell you something more notable of his\ndoings at Potid\u00e6a. One morning he went out early to indulge some\ncontemplations; but not succeeding, as it would appear, in his object,\nwhatever that might be, he remained standing and looking right out\nbefore him till it was near mid-day; and then the soldiers began to\nnotice him, and said one to another that Socrates had been standing\nthere in a brown study from sunrise. Thereafter some of the Ionians\nabout the evening, after supper, took their quilts and carpets out,\nfor it was then mild summer weather, and, shaking them on the ground,\nslept in the open air, keeping an eye at the same time on Socrates to\nsee whether he would remain all night standing in that reverie; and\nwhen they awoke in the morning with the sun, lo! Socrates was standing\nin the same spot; and, after saying a prayer to the sun, shortly\nretired. So much for his contemplative oddities; but it is only fair\nthat I should tell you how he was as good a soldier as a sophist, and\ncould achieve no less notable things with his hand than with his head.\nFor when the battle took place, for my conduct in which the generals\ngave me such honourable marks of distinction, I, who knew the real\nstate of the case, insisted that if any man had distinguished himself\nin the fight it was Socrates, to whom on that occasion {12} I should\nwillingly resign the intended laurels. But though this was quite true,\nthe judges were inclined to favour me; and Socrates came forward and\nasserted with the greatest emphasis that my claims were superior to\nhis; and so I carried off the reward of valour which none but he could\nwith perfect justice claim. Then again when we retreated from Delium,\nafter the defeat I was riding off on horseback, while Socrates and\nLaches followed, as hoplites, on foot, and coming up to them I cried,\nFear not, good friends, I will keep alongside of you and defend you\nfrom the pursuit. On that occasion I admired even more than at\nPotid\u00e6a the conduct of this man; for while both were in danger of\nbeing overtaken it was manifest that Socrates during the whole retreat\ndisplayed far more coolness than Laches, who was by profession a\nsoldier. ... Instead of hurry and trepidation we saw in him only the\nlarge full eye that with wise wariness turned to this side and to that\nin a fashion that seemed to say to all comers that they would find a\nsteady nerve if they came within sword\u2019s length of him. And thus he\ngot out of the rush safely; for so I have always observed that in a\nretreat the men who are most afraid always fare the worst. And many\nother things there are I might relate, which would show clearly what a\nstrange and truly admirable creature this Socrates is. Individual\npersons, behaving in individual cases as excellently as Socrates, it\nmight be easy to point out; but such a compound, a thing in the shape\nof a man so utterly unlike any other man, you will find nowhere,\neither among famous ancients op illustrious moderns. One might make an\nadequate portraiture of Achilles, or Brasidas, of Pericles, or {13}\nNestor, or Antenor, and other famous characters; but such a unique\nmortal as this son of Sophroniscus no man can describe, unless,\nindeed, he chooses to steal my simile, and say that he is a Silenus\nsuperficially, both in his appearance and in his talk, but to those\nwho look deeper his soul is a shrine of most excellent, beautiful, and\nworshipful divinities.\u201d\n\nThis passage will make it plain that Socrates was no mere idle\nspeculator or subtle talker, such as might be found in ancient Athens\nor in any modern German university by scores--but a practical man, and\nan effective citizen of prominent merit. But if he showed courage in\nthe field of battle not inferior to the stoutest and coolest\nprofessional soldier, he displayed a civic virtue on other occasions,\nwhich only the fewest on all occasions have been able to exhibit. This\nvirtue was moral courage; a quality which, when exercised in critical\ncircumstances, raises a man high above the average of his kind,\nwhereas with mere physical courage he is only a more cool and\ncalculating rival of dogs and cocks and tigers, and other ferine\ncombatants. On that memorable occasion, when the whole of Athens was\nfretted into a fever-fit of indignation on account of the neglect of\nthe dead and dying slain by the victors at Arginus\u00e6 (B.C. 406), and\nin the torrent of what appeared to them most righteous wrath, were\neager to overbear all the customary forms of fair judicial trial,\nSocrates happened to be serving as one of the senators whose duty it\nwas to put the question to the assembly of the people in the case of\ngreat public trials; and, a motion having been made that the generals\nwho were guilty of the alleged neglect of pious duty should be\ncondemned to drink the hemlock, and have their property {14}\nconfiscated, it fell to the senators to perform the preparatory step\nin the prosecution. But as the proceedings in the case had been\ndictated by violent excitement, and were decidedly illegal, Socrates\nrefused, in the face of violent popular clamour, to have anything to\ndo with the matter, and lifted up his single protest--one amongst\nfifty--against violating the sacred forms of law at the dictation of\nan excited populace. On this, as on other similar occasions when he\ncame into collision with the public authorities, he maintained a truly\napostolic bearing, using in almost identical terms the language of the\napostles Peter and John, when they were forbidden to preach by the\nSanhedrim: \u201c_Whether it be right in the sight of the gods to hearken\nunto you rather than to the gods, judge ye; but as for me, I have\nsworn to obey the laws, and I cannot forswear myself_.\u201d\n\nWith all this faithfulness, however, in the public service, Socrates\nwas very far from wishing to be what we call a public man; on the\ncontrary, he kept himself systematically out of places which were\neagerly coveted by less able men, and refused to have anything to do\nwith the party politics of the day. This withdrawal from the service\nof the State, to the majority of Greeks, with whom the State was\neverything, could not but appear strange, and tend to increase their\nprejudice against philosophy and philosophers. But Socrates acted\nhere, as in all other matters, with admirable good sense; he felt that\nto be a politician and a preacher of righteousness was to combine two\nvocations practically incompatible; for the popular measure which it\nmight serve the immediate need of the political man to advocate it\nmight not seldom be the first duty of {15} the moralist to condemn.\nBesides, if he took office with men who habitually acted on principles\nof which he could not but disapprove, he would be forced to waste his\nstrength in a fruitless opposition to measures which he could not\nprevent; and in this way it came to pass that, while he utterly\ndisapproved, in the general case, of a good citizen, whether from the\nlove of selfish ease, or from false modesty, or from moral cowardice,\nrefusing to take part in public life, in his own particular work he\nfelt that political activity would be a hindrance, and that it was his\nduty to abstain.\n\nIn these few paragraphs are summed up all that from indisputable\nauthority we know of the personal history of the greatest of heathen\npreachers. The circumstances connected with his death are too closely\ninterwoven with the character of his teaching to be intelligible here.\nWe shall therefore enter now directly into a short exposition of his\nethical teaching; after which we shall be in a condition to consider\nwith an intelligent astonishment how it came to pass that the preacher\nof the noblest doctrine that Athens ever heard, before the preaching\nof Paul on the Hill of Mars, after living in high repute and\npopularity for seventy years, should at last have been made to quit\nthe scene of his moral triumphs, publicly branded with the stigma\nwhich was wont to be attached to the lowest of malefactors and the\nvilest of traitors.\n\nThe two first questions to be asked with regard to any great moral or\npolitical reformer are--What had he to reform? and then, In the work\nof reform who were his antagonists? The first of these questions is\nanswered intelligibly and plainly enough in {16} the current knowledge\nof every schoolboy, that Socrates brought down philosophy from heaven\nto earth, or, as Cicero has it more fully in the Tusculan questions,\n\u201c_Socrates primus philosophiam devocavit e c\u0153lo, et in urbibus\ncollocavit, et in domos etiam introduxit, et coegit de vit\u00e2 et\nmoribus, rebusque bonis et mails qu\u0153rere_.\u201d Now there cannot be any\ndoubt that, both relatively to the time and place where he taught, and\nabsolutely for all times and all places, Socrates by this step did one\nof the highest services to human progress. By a natural vice of the\nhuman imagination we are led to seek in the misty distance for some\npleasant excitement to thought, while neglecting the direct lessons of\nfamiliar wisdom from things under our eyes, which appear contemptible\nonly because they are common. We attempt ambitiously to measure the\nremote movement of the spheres, and to note their imagined music,\nbefore we have brought any order or harmony into the daily course of\nour own lives; we climb all the highest mountains in Europe for a fine\nprospect, when there is likely a much better one to be enjoyed not\nfive miles from our own door. In obedience to this tendency of the\nhuman mind the early philosophy of Greece was occupied principally\n(not altogether certainly, for Pythagoras was a great moralist) with\ncosmical and metaphysical speculations which amused the fancy and\nraised interesting and puzzling problems for thought, without any\nvaluable practical result. When Thales, for one, said that the first\nprinciple of all things was water, he enunciated a great truth; it is\ntrue that wherever there is life there must be humidity; with dryness\ndwells only dust and death and frost. But this was a truth {17}\nleading to no applications; it could neither purify the wells nor\nimprove the wines; no man would be the better in his body or his soul\nfor formulating a cosmical generality of this kind. And if Heraclitus,\nthe sombre sage of Ephesus, advanced a step further in a true\ngeneralization, when he said that fire or heat is the fundamental\nforce which makes water possible, as modern chemistry has amply\ndemonstrated, this doctrine did not advance human nature one step\neither towards outward comfort or inward satisfaction. And of what\navail was it to tell men, as he did, that \u201call things are in a\nperpetual flux,\u201d if he did not teach them how to regulate that flux\nin the flow of their own lives, and to prevent the tidal currents of\ntheir soul from getting into a plash and jabble of conflicting waters\nin the navigation of which no seamancraft could avail against\nmiserable shipwreck? More useless still was it to assert, as\nAnaxagoras is reported to have done, that the sun is a large mass of\nglowing stone or metal, so many times bigger than the earth--a\nproposition which, if it were true, would not teach a poor cowering\nsavage to kindle a stick fire, nor make one olive-tree brighter with\nblossoms that promised a purer and a richer oil; while, if it were not\ntrue, then the whole of your lofty heliacal philosophy is only a blaze\nof lies. The whole history of modern science, indeed, before the\nestablishment of the close and cautious method of experiment\nintroduced by Bacon, shows that all physical inquiry starting from\nunproved assumptions, and ending in sweeping speculations, is only a\nsublime sort of idleness, and a procreation of cloud-phantoms.\nSocrates therefore acted wisely for his own time and place in saying\nto a people fond of {18} curious subtlety and unfruitful speculation.\nLet us have done with this lofty-sounding but essentially hollow talk\nabout sun and moon and stars, and let us know something certain, and\ndo something useful. This we shall achieve if we keep within our own\nlower sphere, and attend to our own work as men; let us order our\nhouses well in the first place, and after that concern ourselves with\nthe order of the universe; if, indeed, this does not rather belong to\nthe gods, who may safely be left to do their cosmical work quietly,\nwithout any Anaxagoras or Archelaus to tempt with adventurous guesses\nthe principles of their administration. Such was the thoroughly\npractical, and, if you will, thoroughly utilitarian tone which, taught\nby Xenophon, we justly view as the starting-point of the Socratic\nphilosophy. And there can be no doubt man is so essentially a\npractical animal, that if even the accurate and curiously verified\nphysical science of these latter days were as destitute of social\napplications and as barren of practical results as Greek science was\nin the days of Socrates, nine hundred and ninety-nine persons of those\nwho now delight to dabble in chemistry and geology would leave these\ninteresting sciences to the few men of a purely speculative character\nwith whom mere knowledge is loved for itself. But when by geology we\nare enabled to unearth coals and gold, and know where to sink wells\nmuch more certainly than by the medi\u00e6val magic of the divining-rod;\nand when by chemistry we improve our stores, bleach our clothes,\npurify our infected chambers, and dye our cloth with hues of which\neven the most skilful of the lichen-gatherers in the Highland glens\nnever dreamt--then, to use a bookseller\u2019s phrase, you are {19} sure\nto interest a large public. But there is another view of the case,\nwhich places the Socratic philosopher on a much more lofty and\nhonourable pedestal. For notwithstanding all the surprising\ndiscoveries and brilliant achievements of modern physical science, it\nmust still remain true that\n\n \u201cThe proper study of mankind is man,\u201d\n\nand that no kind of knowledge ever can surpass either in interest or\nimportance the knowledge of man as a social being, as the member of a\nFamily, of a Church, and of a State. The depreciation of moral science\nwhich we have lately heard from Mr. Buckle and other members of that\nschool is a transitional phenomenon arising out of the one-sided\nculture of the understanding, and a defective emotional, volitional,\nand imaginative organization. If new discoveries are not every day\ntrumpeted in the domain of moral philosophy, it is just because this\nscience, like Euclid, is too certain, too fundamental, and too\nindispensable to have been left to the happy chance of being found out\nafter the lapse of long centuries. Morals are as necessary to the\nacting man as the sun\u2019s light to the growing plant; they are not\ndiscovered, because they always have been and always must be; and the\nonly great result that we have to look for then in them is that they\nshall be more universally recognised, more scientifically handled, and\nmore practically applied. Socrates therefore was right, not only for\nGreece in the fifth century before Christ, but for England at the\npresent moment, and for all times and places, when he proclaimed on\nthe house-tops that the first and most necessary wisdom for all men is\nnot to measure the stars, or {20} to weigh the dust, or to analyse the\nair, but, according to the old Delphic sentence, to know themselves,\nand to realize in all the breadth and depth of its significance what\nit is to be a man, and not a pig or a god. And in attaining this\nknowledge, while he would certainly find that, though a stable\nphysical platform to stand on and a healthy physical atmosphere to\nbreathe are necessary for the production of a normal humanity, yet in\ngeneral the measure of a man\u2019s manhood is to be taken not so much\nfrom what he attaches to himself from without as from what he brings\nwith him from within.\n\n\u201cThe kingdom of heaven is within you\u201d is a pregnant Socratic maxim\nas well as a profound evangelic text, and, in reference to our present\nsubject, simply means that, while the most brilliant discoveries of\nphysical science only minister to our comforts, our conveniences, and\nour furnishings, moral science alone can teach us to be men; for we\nare men by what we are, not by what we have. Gas-pipes, and\nwater-pipes, spinning-jennies, steamboats, steam-coaches, submarine\ntelegraphs, photographs, oleographs, oxyhydrogen, blowpipes, and the\nthousand and one devices for using and controlling nature which we owe\nto advanced physical science, may adorn and improve life in many ways,\nmay multiply production of all kinds infinitely, and facilitate the\ndiffusion of intellectual as well as material benefits; but they have\nno originating power in what is highest; they can create neither\nthought nor character; they are the most useful of ministers, but the\nmost unmeaning of masters. And there can be little doubt that, if\nSocrates were to rise from the grave at the present moment, while,\nwith his, strong {21} common sense and keen eye for the practical, he\nwould joyfully recognise all the wonderful material progress of which\nEngland and America make their boast, he would not the less feel\nhimself constrained to utter an emphatic warning against the danger of\nestimating our national grandeur by the visible pomp of gigantic\nmachinery and complex apparatus rather than by the invisible power of\nnoble purpose and lofty design.\n\nSuch was the attitude of Socrates to the great teachers who since\nThales downwards had preceded him in leading the intellectual advance\nof the most intellectual people of the ancient world. He stood forward\nas a teacher of moral science, as a preacher and philosophical\nmissionary also; for in morals, the separation of theory from practice\nis an inconsistency of which only a feeble and imperfect nature is\ncapable. Who, then, and of what quality, were his antagonists in the\ngreat regenerative work which he undertook? Not so much the physical\nphilosophers, who might still pursue their researches or pamper their\nimaginations in their own speculative corners without disturbing the\nbusy world, except in so far as they now and then might come into\ncollision with theological orthodoxy, but the great untrained mass of\nthe people themselves, and the pretentious array of a class of men who\nput themselves forward as their instructors,--the famous SOPHISTS.\nThe word Sophists signifies professors of wisdom, in which sense\nLucian calls our Saviour \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03bd--_that\ncrucified Sophist_--because He came forward as a public instructor\nprofessing to teach men wisdom. But as wisdom is a vague word (in fact\n\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03cc\u03c2 in Greek signifies _clever_, and even {22} _cunning_ as\noften as _wise_), we must consult the circumstances of time and place\nto know what it exactly meant in any particular instance. The\ngeneration immediately preceding Socrates, when the Sophists first\nbecame prominent, was the era of the great Persian wars, and of the\nnotable uprising of national spirit and of popular power which that\nmemorable struggle called forth. How fiercely the strife between the\nold aristocratic and the new democratic element in Greek society had\nbeen raging in the immediately preceding epoch, the poems of Theognis\nmay serve sufficiently to indicate; and now that by the battle of\nSalamis the political importance of the middle and sub-middle classes\nhad been blazoned forth before universal Greece in glowing characters,\nthe democracy in great commercial cities like Athens at once started\ninto an attitude of hitherto unsuspected significance. New aspirations\nhad been created, new pretensions were put forth, and new guides were\nrequired for a large class of people who felt themselves as it were\nsuddenly shooting up from pupilage into majority. Now what guides had\na people, circumstanced as the Athenians then, were, to look to for\ndirection? The Church in those days--if we may call it a Church--was\nnot a teaching body; its moral efficacy was exercised through sacred\nceremonial and pious hymns; its intellectual agency was almost null.\nAnd though gymnastics and music, including a certain amount of the\nmost popular literary culture, were common, there were no institutions\nlike our Universities, for the severe and systematic discipline of the\nthinking faculties. A cry went up from the heart of the people for\nprophets to enlighten them; but there were no schools {23} of the\nprophets. This state of things was the natural soil from which a class\nof self-constituted popular teachers would grow up; and these teachers\nwere the Sophists. And if we ask further in detail what they taught,\nthe answer will be furnished from the same sources that explain their\nexistence. As the democracy brought them into existence, the demand of\nthe democracy would be the measure of the kind and quality of the\narticle which they were expected to supply; and the article which a\ndemocracy demands for the use of its public spokesmen is always the\nsame,--a certain practical knowledge and shrewdness in the conduct of\naffairs, a certain ready sympathy with, popular prejudices and\npassions, a certain superficial dexterity in argument, and above all,\na fluent and effective style of popular oratory. To supply these wants\nthe acceptable teachers of the people would require to profess a\nknowledge of the great leading principles of law, a familiarity with\npolitical forms and the best methods of controlling masses of men into\nhabits or fits of co-operation, a practical command of logic, so as to\nbe able to turn the point of an argument, or entangle in a net of\nsubtleties an inexperienced jury, and, as the crowning accomplishment,\na faculty of speech, alert and unscrupulous, which might never lack a\nshift to give plausibility to a bad case, and should ever be ready to\nconfound, overwhelm, and dazzle where it was hopeless to refute. Now\nit is easy to perceive that the lessons delivered by the professors of\nthis wisdom, however acceptable to clever and ambitious young\ngentlemen eager to enter upon the arena of public life, could not, in\nthe nature of the case, be conceived in any very exalted tone of\nmorals or be framed so as to inculcate the formation {24} of any\nstrictly honourable rules of conduct. The Sophists were mere\ntradesmen; they were paid for the furnishing of a certain article, and\nthey had to supply that article, of the quality and in the way and\nmanner which might be most agreeable to those on whose patronage they\ndepended. They were therefore, as Socrates constantly pointed out, the\nslaves of the parties by whom they were paid; and if what their\nemployers wanted was the show of wisdom rather than the substance, a\nready command of words and arguments in preference to an earnest and\nsevere search after truth, it was not to be expected that the majority\nof them would give themselves much concern to inculcate a severer\nwisdom. Tradesmen are seldom found acting upon principles which have a\ndirect tendency to frighten customers from their shops. Not that there\nwas anything necessarily bad or immoral in the profession or teaching\nof a Sophist; some of them, evidently, such as Protagoras and\nProdicus, even on the witness of their great adversary Plato, were\nvery proper and respectable gentlemen; few of them, perhaps, grossly\nimmoral; and with those of them who, like Gorgias of Leontium,\nconfined themselves strictly to the teaching of the rules of pure\nrhetoric and elocution, no fault could justly be found any more than\nwith Quinctilian among the later Romans, or Principal Campbell of\nAberdeen among ourselves. But it is plain, from the very nature of the\ncase, that the Sophists, so far as they went a step beyond the\nprovince of strict rhetoric, were placed in a position which rendered\ntheir moral and philosophical teaching a matter of just concern to all\nwho were interested in the education of the youth of Athens, and in\nthe {25} character of her public men. Besides, among an impressible\nand excitable people like the Athenians, fond of display, and\nambitious of popularity, the mere methodized art of talking, apart\nfrom any solid knowledge, and without any high moral inspiration, was\na very dangerous engine to put into the hand of ambitious young\npoliticians. And the fact unquestionably is, according to the\nconcurrent testimony of Xenophon, Plato, Isocrates, Aristotle,--in\nfact, of all antiquity,--that these public teachers generally did\ndispense very shallow and often very dangerous doctrine. They were the\nnatural birth of an age of movement and innovation; and in such an\nage, along with much that may operate as a healthy stimulant to\nprogressive thought, there is always present a drastic admixture of\nthe merely analytic, sceptical, and destructive element, a negative\nforce, strong to impugn the validity of ancient foundations, but weak\nto establish anything equally stable and effective in their place. By\nthe negative and sceptical teachings of these men, Socrates found the\nyouth of Athens shaken from their old moorings, and tossing about amid\nseas of perplexing doubt on the one hand, and unprincipled libertinism\non the other. Every great principle of social order and human right\nthat formerly had been received from venerated tradition, and believed\nby the co-operation of a healthy instinct with a hoary authority, was\nnow denied; and the field was waiting for the appearance of a great\nconstructive prophet, who should bring people back through steps of\nscientific reasoning to a living faith in those maxims of immutable\nmorality which they had originally inherited with the blood from their\nfathers\u2019 veins and the milk from their mothers\u2019 breasts. {26} Such\na great prophet now appeared, and his name was Socrates.[26.1]\n\nWe have now clearly before us the battle-field in which Socrates had\nto appear, and the opponents with whom he had to contend; we see also\nthe cause for which he had to fight. This was nothing {27} less than\nthe establishment of a firm philosophy of human life, a sure guide for\nhuman conduct, and a strong regulator of society. The way now lies\nopen to inquire what special doctrine he taught in order to achieve\nvictory in this struggle; and a careful perusal of Xenophon\u2019s book,\nwhich we regard as the {28} only safe authority in the matter, leads\nto a generalized statement of the Socratic moral philosophy, comprised\nin the following two propositions:--\n\n(I.) Man is naturally a sympathetic and a social animal. He has, no\ndoubt, strong, self-preserving, self-asserting, and self-advancing\ninstincts, which, if left without counteraction, would naturally lead\nto isolation or mutual hostility, and ultimate extermination; but\nthese instincts of isolated individualism are met by yet stronger\ninstincts of sympathy, love, and fellowship, in the ascendency of\nwhich the true humanity of man as distinguished from tigerhood and\nspiderhood consists.\n\n(II.) Man is naturally a reasoning animal, and is only then truly a\nman when his passions are tempered and his conduct regulated by\nreason. The function of reason is the recognition and the realization\nof truth; truth recognised in speculation is science; {29} truth\nrealized in action is a moral life and a well-ordered society.\n\nThese two propositions may appear to many persons now-a-days to\ncontain nothing that is not very vague and very cheap; nevertheless,\nwhen looked into accurately and followed out unconditionally, they\nlead to most important practical consequences; in fact, while their\nconsistent assertion under all circumstances necessarily leads up to a\nnoble and a heroic life, their habitual denial as necessarily leads\ndown to a base and a brutish life. Let us look at them therefore\nsharply in detail.\n\nThe first proposition, as the reader will readily perceive, is\nlevelled directly against the selfish theory of morals which was\nadvocated with more or less openness by many of the Greek Sophists,\nand was prominently put forth in this country, as is generally known,\nat the time of the great Civil War, by the celebrated Thomas Hobbes of\nMalmesbury. That stout speculator, in his treatise on \u201cthe\nPhilosophical Elements of a True Citizen,\u201d lays it down with a\ndistinctness which admits of no qualification, that \u201call society is\neither for gain or for glory; that is, not so much for love of our\nfellows as for love of ourselves;\u201d and again, a few pages further on\nin the same treatise, he puts forth the famous dictum that \u201cthe\nnatural state of man is a war of all men against all men.\u201d Against\nsuch a one-sided, unhuman, unworthy, and altogether false assertion,\nSocrates comes armed, not only with the whole force of a sympathetic,\na social, and a benevolent nature, but with that healthy instinct and\npractical good sense, which in him was prophetic not so much of his\nimmediate disciple Plato as of his great successor Aristotle. {30} In\none of the conversations of the _Memorabilia_ of which the subject is\n\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03b1--a much wider word, let it be well noted, than the English\n\u201cfriendship,\u201d--Critobulus, one of the young followers of the\nphilosopher, is introduced as lamenting over the difficulty of making\nfriends; and the views of Socrates follow in reply. We extract the\nwhole passage:--\n\n\u201cWhat perplexes you, my young friend, said Socrates, seems to be\nthat you have frequently seen even the best men, and of the most noble\nquality, quarrelling with one another, and fanning themselves into\nhostility, even more fierce than that which divides the most worthless\nmembers of society. Just so, said Critobulus, and not only this, but\nthe best-ordered societies, and those States which seem to possess the\nmost delicate sense of public honour, are often found to plunge into\nthe most unjustifiable wars. Where, then, shall we find a place for\nsocial sympathy and true friendship? If the bad by their very nature\ncannot know what love means, if betwixt the bad and the good there can\nbe no fellowship any more than betwixt fire and water, and if finally\nthe good, who practise virtue most severely, in the ambitious contests\nof human life are still found for the most part envying one another\nand hating one another, among what class of men, I ask, are fellowship\nand good faith possible? But, said Socrates, this is by no means such\na simple matter as you seem to think. Nature here as elsewhere has two\nsides. There is naturally implanted in men a social and sympathetic\nelement; for they naturally need one another, and feel for one\nanother, and help one another by co-operation; and alongside of this\nthere exists also an element of hostility; for wherever a {31} great\nnumber of persons find their affections fixed on the same object,\nwhich they cannot all enjoy, opposition and war in reference to that\nobject will naturally ensue. Hence strife and wrath and the passion\nfor aggrandizement, and feelings of envy and dislike toward those who\nin the great competition of life are more successful than ourselves.\nNevertheless, so strong is the sympathetic principle in nature, that\nit penetrates through all these barriers, and joins in bonds of\nbrotherhood all the noble and the good.\u201d\n\nThis passage deserves special prominence in every estimate of the\nphilosophy of Socrates, not only on account of its own strong\npractical good sense--a leading quality of the philosopher\u2019s\nmind--but on account of the complement which it supplies to the other\npart of his doctrine, that virtue is practical reason. How true this\ndoctrine of rational morality is, and how comprehensive, we shall\nendeavour to show immediately; but in the first place, before applying\nreason to the actions of a social being, we must postulate the\nexistence of a sympathetic instinct, without whose impulsive and\nattractive power reason could never be induced to exercise itself in\nany social direction. To prove to a man who has no love in his nature\nthat he ought to love his neighbour, and that without such love no\nsociety is possible (a proof by the way which Hobbes leads very\ntriumphantly), is all very well as a piece of reasoning; but it could\nlead to no practical consequences if the person to whom it was\naddressed was root and branch made up of pure selfishness. It would be\nlike arguing to a tiger that it should become a lamb. In all moral\nquestions, therefore, the motive powers must be supposed {32} as a\nfact; they belong to the nature of a moral being as steam belongs to a\nsteam-engine; and therefore Socrates, whose whole teaching breathes\nthe earnest conviction of the great truth that moral philosophy has no\nmeaning as a theory, but exists only as a fact, is everywhere\nexhibited as a great lover of men. Love of his kind, indeed, was the\nmain inspiration of his life, as in fact it must be that of all men\nwho aspire to the noble position of social reformation in any shape;\ntherefore it was that he was seen constantly in the streets and in the\nmarket-places, and in the public shops, and the _ateliers_ of the\nsculptors, and in festal and convivial celebrations of all kinds;\ntherefore it was that he professed himself on all occasions \u03bc\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\n\u1f10\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2--a passionate admirer of everything beautiful and\nexcellent whether in man or woman; and from this quick and ready\nsympathy with all human excellence it was that, while he spoke the\ntruth on all occasions without fear, there was so little generally of\nharshness in his reproof; nay, he would carry his human forbearance\nand sympathetic complaisance so far on occasions as to visit a\nbeautiful \u1f11\u03c4\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c1\u03b1, and converse with her on the philosophy of\ndress, and the most scientific manner of spreading the net and baiting\nthe hook for her admirers.[32.1] How incongruous would it not be to\nfigure John Calvin or any modern theological doctor relaxing his\ngravity in this region so far; and yet Socrates was as veritable a\nsaint as Calvin, only the men were constitutionally not only\ndifferent, but adverse; besides, Socrates was a Greek, and, so far as\nimpressibility by mere physical beauty is concerned, this {33} implies\nmuch. What the modern Protestant theologian would have thought it a\nsin to look at in the ancient philosopher might have excited an\ninnocent and pious admiration. But the tolerant universality of large\nhuman sympathy in Socrates, however difficult it may be for some men\nto understand, was in fact much less an anomaly in a severe moralist\nthan the selfish theory of Hobbes is in a man pretending to be a man\nat all. To explain such a perverse phenomenon we must bear in mind\nthat the love of singularity in some minds is greater than the love of\ntruth; that some men of great intellectual capacity are deficient in\nsome of the finer instincts that stir heroic breasts, and fail to\nrecognise in others what they have no experience of in themselves;\nthat in the common characters whom one meets in daily life an\nessentially selfish motive can often be traced beneath the gracious\nsurface, where to the public eye only benevolence, philanthropy,\nhumility, and self-denial shine out with genial radiance; that the\nscientific mind has a peculiar pleasure in tracking out such\ninconsistencies; that the speculative mind in its eagerness to embrace\nvarious phenomena under one law is apt to run a-muck against Nature,\ndelighting, as she does sometimes, more in the compromise of various\nprinciples than in the triumph of one; and finally, that men trained\nprincipally in the political and legal world often have a tendency to\ntransfer the selfish principles which are most considered in their\ndomain to other spheres of the social system, where more free scope is\ngiven to the exercise of the benevolent and unselfish propensities.\nThese considerations may perhaps account for the genesis of such an\nincomplete moralist as Hobbes,--it is only {34} the common instance of\na meagre plant growing up in a bad climate. Socrates, on the other\nhand, surprises and puzzles us by his sheer redundancy of ethical\nsensibility; as a tropical vegetation seems sometimes to smother with\nthe exuberance of green life the sober demands of an eye educated in a\ntemperate climate.\n\nLet us now turn to the second proposition: MAN IS A REASONING\nANIMAL;--trite enough, but what does this imply? and how far does it\nbring us when we attempt to answer the question started by Dr. Paley,\n_Why am I bound to keep my word?_ Let us see how Socrates would have\nanswered this question. Through the memoirs he stands forward in no\ncharacter so strongly as in that of the exposer of unrealities.\nHimself the most truthful of all men, throughout a long life he can\nfind nothing better to do than to help others, first to draw the real\ntruth out of themselves, and then, by the touchstone thus acquired, to\ndistinguish the true man in the actual course of life from the fake\npretender. Truth therefore, unadulterated truth in thought and in act,\nwas the pole-star of his navigation. But the recognition and\nrealization of truth is the distinctive function of reason; therefore\ntruthfulness under every form of thought or action is the grand law of\nreasonableness, and in virtue of this the grand rule of human conduct.\nFor no creature can be called upon to act at variance with its own\nnature; and if it should attempt to do so, it will either fail\nutterly--as if a worm should essay to fly--or, succeeding so far in\nthe experiment, as when a bear dances or a man speaks lies habitually,\nthe creature will make itself either ridiculous or contemptible. As\ntherefore you expect {35} your dog to nose well, your cat to mouse\nwell, your horse to race well, and your cow, when well grassed, to\ngive good milk, so expect yourself on all occasions to think and to\nact reasonably, that is truthfully or in conformity with the reality\nof things; and know for certain on each occasion that your thought or\nyour act deviates from right reason, that thus far you are not your\nproper self, you are not, in the full sense of the word, a man; you\nare, in fact, in reference to this matter, acting like a madman. For,\nas Socrates in his familiar way puts it, if a man, imagining himself\ntwelve feet high, should bow his head whenever he entered a door eight\nfeet high, in order to avoid fracture of the skull, would we not call\nsuch a person mad? And if he is justly esteemed insane who in such an\nexorbitant way takes a false measure of his bodily height, why should\none be esteemed sane who habitually makes an equally false estimate of\nhis mental stature? If a person were to imagine that he knew Greek,\nbut whenever he opened his mouth poured forth a mere swallow-twitter\nof inarticulate jargon, could he possibly be held to be of sound mind?\nor if a man should push himself forward into the van of any great\nundertaking, such as the building of bridges or the cutting of\ntunnels, conceiving himself to be able to do these things, when he was\nknown to be ignorant of the simplest practical elements of\narchitecture and engineering, should we not say truly that such a\nperson is labouring under a delusion, which, if not madness, is\nsomething very closely allied to it? From such considerations as these\nSocrates deduced, with all the certainty of mathematical\ndemonstration, that the most imperative duty, and the most binding\n{36} obligation of every man--the postulate, in fact, of all\nreasonable and fruitful activity in life--is \u03b3\u03bd\u1ff6\u03b8\u03b9 \u03c3\u03b5\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd, KNOW\nTHYSELF! and this maxim does not mean, of course, that a man is to go\ninto a corner, and by a series of probings to take the measure of his\nown capacity; it means rather that we shall know our relation to that\nouter world in which our active powers are to be spent; it means that\nwe shall know the world by free intercourse and by cautious trial, and\nthat we shall make it our business with conscientious care to discover\nwhat we are fit for on this stage of things on which the drama of our\nlife is enacted, and what we are not fit for. And always in every\nwork, reasonably undertaken, if the execution is to be enduringly\nsuccessful, let the reasonable and true man study, as the one thing\nneedful, TO BE THE THING THAT HE WOULD SEEM TO BE.\n\nFrom this statement, taken directly from the report of Xenophon, the\nreader will perceive that we have got in Socrates fundamentally only a\nvery modern Scotch friend with a very ancient Greek face, viz., the\nexcellent laird of Craigenputtoch and venerable prophet of Chelsea on\nthe Thames, the burden of whose preaching has always been the\nunveiling of SHAMS. Mr. Ruskin\u2019s Lamp of Truth in Architecture\nshines also manifestly with a kindred light; and in fact it is quite\ncertain, and the most important of all truths to be implanted in the\nyouthful mind when starting on the career of life, that we live in a\nworld of most grave and earnest and stiff realities, that must be\ndealt with in a real and honest way--that is, neither in a superficial\nnor in a false way, nor in an absurd way, nor with any sort of random\nstrokes, but only in a calculated and a reasonable {37} way, and\naccording to the unchangeable nature of things--if not, the penalty is\nsure. If we will mistake a granite rock for a gigot of mutton, we\nshall find that we have dined on something that no culinary art can\nmake at all digestible. Let us examine in rapid detail how far the\ngeneral Socratic principle of acting, reasonably and truthfully will\nbring out the individual virtues which are the most necessary and the\nmost esteemed, whether in the common concerns of life or in those\nseasons of rare culmination when manhood rises into heroism. Now, here\nwe see plainly enough, in the first place, that all the so-called\nintellectual virtues--that is, those that depend on the vigorous and\nwell-directed use of the intellectual faculties--are, by the Socratic\nprinciple, at once provided for in the most effective way. These\nvirtues are foresight, calculation, prudence in every shape, trained\ntalent, professional expertness, and substantial work on scientific\nprinciples in all trades and occupations. The man who does any kind of\nwork in a careless, bungling, or superficial way is not acting as a\nreasonable being; for the first demand of reason, as the truthful\nfaculty in the world of action, is to realize its idea completely and\nthoroughly; and this no hasty and superficial handiwork can pretend to\ndo. Again, if a man, as happens only too often, undertakes a long\nwalk, and having miscalculated the distance, or carried with him\nconfused ideas of north and south, finds himself under the veil of\nnight wandering about in a boggy waste when he ought to have been snug\nin his bed, he has himself to blame: he acted unreasonably in\nundertaking an unknown expedition without exact information or wise\ncalculation; and it is only reasonable {38} that he should be\novertaken by the necessary consequences of all unreasoning procedure\nin a world where Reason is the only law and Truth the unerring judge.\nIn the same way, from want of accurate knowledge, wise foresight, and\ncomprehensive survey, Crimean campaigns are bungled, and Reform Bills\nof most serious consequence are huddled or juggled through a house of\nfretful or feverish senators, and Acts of Parliament are patched up\nwith clauses that contradict one another, and make the preamble look\nlike a bridegroom who finds he has promised eternal fidelity to a\nmistaken bride. All this is unreasonable work, and the men who did it\nwere not exercising their reason at the time of the perpetration; for\nany practical purpose they might as well have been blind, furious,\nfatuous, or asleep. \u2019Tis plain, therefore, that all the efficiency\nof every kind of work done in the world depends on its reasonableness,\nthat is, on its truthfulness; and in full view, so to speak, of the\nimportance of this intellectual virtue Nature has furnished man with a\nmoral excellence closely akin to it. The recognition of truth in the\nstrictly intellectual world becomes, in the world of propulsive\npassions and inspiring emotions, the love of truth. This virtue shows\nitself in frankness, openness, and simplicity of character, and in an\nimperious disdain of all sorts of equivocation, dissembling,\nfalsehood, and disguise, according to the well-known type of the\nheroic character in Homer:\n\n \u201cThat man within my soul I hate, even as the gates of hell,\n Who speaks fair words, but in his heart dark lies and treachery dwell.\u201d\n\nHere Achilles, every one feels, is speaking like a man; and, though\nall truth is not always everywhere {39} to be proclaimed, yet on great\noccasions, where to strike the just mean is difficult, he who in an\nimpulse of fearless fervour vents a little too much truth, is always\nmore admired than the man who from a surcharge of cautious reticence\nspeaks too little. For a lie, in fact, as Plato says in the\n_Republic_, is a thing naturally hateful both to gods and men; nor\nindeed could it be otherwise; for what is all nature but a\nmanifestation in visible forms of a grand army of invisible forces?\nand an untruthful manifestation is no manifestation at all, but rather\na concealment, as if a man should use words to say the very contrary\nof what he means, which words, certainly, whatever effect they might\nhave, could not possibly be any exhibition of his real nature. It is\nplain therefore that a lie is on every occasion a contradiction to the\nessential truthfulness, and an obstacle thrown in the way to the\ndirect purpose, of nature; and whenever lies are told, it will be\nfound that they proceed either from a fundamental feebleness, that is,\nan inherent lack of assertive and demonstrative force, or from fear,\nthat is, a comparative feebleness in respect of some external\nthreatening force, or finally from a systematic perversion or\ninversion of nature in individual cases or unfavourable circumstances,\nwhich operate as an obstruction to the free expression of the\nessential truthfulness of things. In this way individuals whose social\nsympathies have been frosted in early life, may grow up into a\nmonstrous incarnation of selfishness, living by the practice of\nsystematic falsity, of which we have examples enough in the\nprofessional swindlers of whose achievements almost every newspaper\ncontains some record; and whole classes of men, as slaves and helots,\nkept in a {40} state of unnatural bondage and subjection, may learn,\nor rather must learn, to practise lies as their only safety from\ninjustice. Every slave is naturally a liar; for his nature is a false\nnature, and has grown up into a contradiction to all nature, as trees\nby forceful artifice are made to grow downwards seeking the earth,\ninstead of upwards to find the sun. And we may say generally, that\nninety-nine out of every hundred lies that are told in society are\nlies of cowardice; lies of gigantic impudence and unblushing\nselfishness, like the lies of Alexander the false prophet in the\nsecond century, and other gross impostors, being comparatively few;\nthough of course, when they do occur, they excite more attention and\nfigure more largely in the newspapers. And from these considerations\nwe see plainly how it is that the world places such a high value on\nthe virtue of courage; for courage arises mainly from the possession\nof that amount of physical or moral energy which enables a man\ntruthfully and emphatically in a real world to assert himself as an\neffective reality; and in fact there is no character that in the\ngeneral judgment of mankind, and in a special degree to the British\nfeeling, appears more contemptible than the man who, on the appearance\nof any petty danger, or the prospective emergence of a possible\ndifficulty, forthwith sneaks out of his position, gives the open lie\nto his own professions, and the cold shoulder to his best friend. So\ndeep-rooted and so wide-spread, so woven into the living fibres of the\nvery heart of things, is the virtue of truth and truthfulness in\nnature and life, which again, as we have said, is the mere utterance\nof reason; the necessary utterance consequently of an essentially\nreasonable being, and not at all the artificial product of a selfish\ncompact {41} or calculation of any kind, as Hobbes and the other\nadvocates of selfism, more or less modified, affirm. We speak the\ntruth therefore, and we are bound to keep our promise, not because\nexperience proves that society could not exist for a single day under\nthe pervading influence of all sorts of falsehood, nor again because\nit can be proved by a formal induction that to speak the truth, as a\ngeneral rule, is the best way to secure the greatest happiness of the\ngreatest number--though there can be no harm in a man fortifying his\nvirtue by these very true and very philanthropic considerations, if he\nchooses,--but the root of the matter lies deeper and more near to the\nheart of the individual man, springing, as we have said, directly out\nof the essential truthfulness and reasonableness of nature, according\nto the prime postulate not of the philosophy of Socrates only, but of\nPlato and Aristotle also, and all the great teachers of practical\nwisdom amongst the Greeks.\n\nIt does not seem necessary, after what has been said, to expatiate\nlargely on the obvious deduction of the other cardinal virtues from\nthe Socratic principle of Reason or Truth. Wherever we turn our eyes\nit will require little perspicacity to perceive that to do the right\nis on all occasions to do the true thing,--as an apostle has it,\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f00\u03bb\u03ae\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd, _to do the truth_; or, in the words of a great\nson of the Porch, _not to demand that things shall be as we wish,\nbut to wish that things shall be as they are_. The great virtue of\nJustice, for instance, which, in its widest and well-known Platonic\nsense, signifies giving to every person and thing that which\nproperly belongs to it, is nothing but the assertion in act of the\ntruth in reference to their concurrent or adverse claims; for how\ncan a man realize in any {42} relation of life the beautiful Stoical\ndefinition of Right given in the Institutes of Justinian--_Justitia\nest constans et perpetua voluntas suum cuique tribuendi_--how can a\nman assign to each person that which is properly his, unless he knows\ntruly the nature and natural claims not of that person only, but of\nall persons with whom his claim may come into competition? It is plain\ntherefore that Justice is merely knowledge or reason;[42.1] and as the\nclaims of different parties in reference to the same thing are often\nvery various and complicated, hence it is that to be a just judge a\nman does not require to have a benevolent nature--though in cases of\nequity the kindly feelings also must come into play--so much as to\nhave an intellect of large range, of firm grasp, and of subtle power\nof discrimination. And if anybody, with special reference to legal\ndecisions, chooses to ask not only what qualities constitute a good\njudge, but on what principles the idea of property is founded--how he\nis to know the exact boundaries of MEUM and TUUM in particular\ncases,--the answer here also, on the Socratic postulate of truth and\nnatural reasonableness, will be obvious enough. That is mine by the\nlaw of nature and truth and God, which is either a part of me, or the\nnatural and necessary, fruit and product of that vital energy which I\ncall ME; or, more simply, the product of my labour and the issues of\nmy activity are mine; and no man can have a right or a claim\nconsistent with the truth of things, to appropriate the fruit of that\ngrowth whereof the root and the stem and the living branches {43} and\nthe vital juices are a necessary part of me.[43.1] But it is not mere\nlegal justice and a true apportionment of the Mine and Thine that flow\nas a plain corollary from the obligation of acting the truth, but the\nwider equities of Christian charity and toleration; yea, and the very\nconstraining power of the Golden Rule itself is evolved unmistakeably\nfrom the same principle. For what is it that from the time of Greeks\nand Romans down to very recent days has tainted the whole laws of\nEuropean countries with such harsh declarations of intolerant\ndogmatism and merciless persecution? Simply the fact that men, from\ndefect of sympathy and defect of knowledge, had never been trained to\nrealize the truth of things as between the natural right of a majority\nto profess a national creed, and the equally natural right of a\nminority to entertain doubts and to state objections as to the whole\nor any part of such a creed. Intolerance proceeds either from\nnarrowness of view or from deficiency of sympathy; and in either case\nit blinds the bigot to the fact that the right which he has to his own\nopinions never can confer on him any right to dictate opinions to\nothers; the moment he does that he invades a dominion that does not\nbelong to him, and transgresses the truth of Nature; nor will this\ntransgression be less flagrant when it is made by ten millions against\none man, than if it {44} were made by one against ten millions. In the\nsame way all those superficial and inadequate, too often also harsh\nand severe, judgments which we see and read daily amongst men in the\ncommon converse of life, are the result of a habitual carelessness as\nto truth, of which habit only too efficiently conceals the grossness.\nAnd under the bitter inspiration of ecclesiastical and political\nwarfare, men, when speaking of their adversaries, will not only\nlightly excuse themselves from using any special care in testing the\nfacts which it suits their purpose to parade, but they will even\nconsciously present a garbled statement constructed upon the principle\nof pushing into prominence everything that is bad, and keeping out of\nview everything that is good in the character of the person whom it\nmay suit the use of the moment to vilify. And in this way even the\nsacred-sounding columns of an evangelical newspaper may become a\nsystematic manufactory of lies, against which most gross abuse of the\ntruth of Nature the son of Sophroniscus, if he were to appear on earth\nnow, would assuredly lift his protest with tenfold more emphasis than\nhe ever did against the sham knowledge of the most superficial of the\nSophists.\n\nOne or two short paragraphs will enable us now to say all that remains\nto be said on the great principles of the Socratic philosophy of\nEthics.\n\nIn the first place, nothing that has been said here in endeavouring\nshortly to epitomize the leading idea of Socrates with regard to\npractical reason and acted truth, assumes to settle definitively that\nmuch-vexed question, _How far is a man at any time, from any motive,\nand for any object, entitled to tell or to enact {45} a lie?_ In a\ndialogue of considerable length, which Socrates holds with Euthydemus,\na raw and conceited young Athenian, who, because he possessed a great\nlibrary, imagined himself to possess much wisdom, the philosopher is\nrepresented as puzzling the young gentleman with such questions as the\nfollowing: Whether is it lawful for a general, with the view of\nraising the drooping spirits of his soldiers, to give out an unfounded\nreport that friends are coming up to help them? Whether, if a father,\nwhose sick son refuses to take a necessary medicine, shall disguise\nthis medicine under the aspect of food, and by the ministry of this\ndrugged aliment restore his son to health, this act of deceit is right\nor wrong? Or again, if a friend whom we love is given to fits of\nmelancholy, and may be apt in an evil moment to meditate suicide, is\nit an act of culpable theft privately to purloin or forcibly to\nabstract the sword or other lethal instrument of which he may avail\nhimself to commit the fatal act? In such and similar cases, though the\npoint is rather raised than settled, Socrates plainly seems to imply\nthat lies are both natural and beneficial, and therefore ought to be\ntolerated. And in truth, though the extreme dogmatism of certain of\nthe Church Fathers lays down the doctrine that the obligation of\ntruth-speaking and truth-doing is absolute, and admits of no\nexception, yet the common sense of mankind, and the universal practice\nof saints and sinners in all ages and in all countries, goes along\nwith Socrates (and we may add Plato here, _Rep_. ii.) in the\nassertion, that where violence is done to Nature in one way by an\nunnatural overwhelming force, such as occurs in war, then Nature\ndefends herself by a {46} violence to her habitual principles in an\nopposite direction; that is to say, it will be justifiable, on certain\noccasions, and within certain limits, to defeat force by fraud; or, as\nLysander the captor of Athens used to say, where a man may not show\nthe lion\u2019s hide he must wrap himself in the fox\u2019s skin. But the\nvery suspicion with which the general moral sentiment guards the\nextension of this motive, which in extreme cases it allows, shows that\nall deviation from truth is looked upon as the result of a force upon\nNature; and, if it may in certain cases be excused or even\nimperatively commanded, it never brings with it the natural aliment of\nour better nature, which breathes freely only in the wide and pure\natmosphere of truth. The general obligation of truth, therefore,\naccording to the doctrine of Socrates, is not at all weakened by the\noccasional necessity of deceit; for while the one rests firmly on the\nfoundation of the eternal constitution of things, the other is the\nmere shift of the moment, the sudden dictate of an expediency, which\nin noble natures is half ashamed of itself when it succeeds.\n\nAnother well-known dogma of the Socratic philosophy is, that not only\nis Science as the product of Reason the supreme legislative authority\nin all questions of morals, but in point of fact also, that to know\nwhat is right is to do what is good, for no man with his eyes open\nwill perpetrate an act which demonstrably leads to his own\ndestruction. Of this assertion, so contrary to the universal\nexperience of mankind, and so ably refuted by Aristotle and his school\nin the Nicomachean ethics, it need only be said that it is one of\nthose paradoxes in the garb of {47} which all philosophies are apt to\nclothe themselves occasionally, partly for the gratification of the\nteacher, who delights to push his principle to an acme, partly for the\nbenefit of the scholar, whose attention is excited and his imagination\npleased by the startling novelty of the dictum. The proposition of\nSocrates therefore, that knowledge is virtue, and vice not only folly\nbut ignorance, is of the same nature with the paradox of the Stoics,\nthat _the virtuous man can have no enemy_, or that _pain is no evil_,\nor with the precept in the Gospel, which no man ever thinks of obeying\nin the letter, that when a thief takes your cloak you should thank\nhim, like a benign Quaker, for his kindness, and give him your coat\ninto the bargain. But it is possible to defend the paradox of Socrates\ntaken strictly, by saying that when a man does a thing which\ndemonstrably leads to his ruin, he either never had this demonstration\nvividly present to his mind, or, at the moment when the\nself-destroying act was committed, his knowing faculty was blinded and\nsopited, dosed and drugged by his passions, and so; at the time when\nhis knowledge was most required, he was virtually ignorant of what he\nwas about. But there is little profit in puzzling about such\nparadoxical maxims, as, like Berkeley\u2019s theory about the\nnon-existence of matter, they are constantly open to be corrected by\ncommon-sense and the daily experience of life. A Calvinist preaches\nFatalism in the pulpit to-day, but to-morrow flogs his slave or his\nson for abusing his free-will. So a smart twitch of the toothache\nanswers the Stoics when they assert that pain is no evil: and the\nlives of Solomon, King David, and Robert Burns prove that great men in\nall ages have, in {48} their cool moments, been as nobly sagacious as\nSocrates, but not therefore at all moments as consistently virtuous.\n\nThe last point which demands notice here is the relation which virtue\nbears to happiness, and to the much-bespoken utilitarianism of the\nmost recent ethical school in this country. Now the truth with regard\nto this stands patent on the very face of the Socratic argument, and\ncan escape no man who goes through the _Memorabilia_ with ordinary\nsympathy. The happiness of every creature consists in the free and\nunhindered exercise of its characteristic function; the happiness of a\nhorse in racing well, of a dog in nosing well, of a cat in mousing\nwell, of a man in reasoning well, that is, in thinking and acting\nreasonably. For the opposite state of things to this could only exist\non the supposition that the Author of Nature or the Supreme Artificer\n(\u1f41 \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03cc\u03c2, as Socrates and Plato loved to phrase it)\ndelighted in inspiring creatures with a desire, and providing them\nwith a machinery, to do things the direct effect of which is to make\nthem miserable; that is to say, if the demiurge were a demon; of which\ndemoniacal government of the world, however, happily there is no sign;\nfor not even the most tortured victim of toothache, as Dr. Paley\nobserves, has yet found himself warranted in drawing the conclusion\nthat teeth in general were made for no other purpose than that people\nmight be tormented with such excruciating pangs. Happiness, therefore,\nand the reasonable exercise of his faculties by a reasonable creature,\nare identical. No creature can deliberately desire to make itself\nmiserable, and no rational creature can escape misery except by acting\nreasonably. And if, {49} in the language of the schools, any person,\nfrom this point of view, shall call Socrates a eud\u00e6monist,[49.1] a\neud\u00e6monist unquestionably he was. But we must bear in mind that,\nwhile he was the warm advocate of all sorts of happiness and\nenjoyment, and himself at the same time a living picture of vital joy\nand geniality, he never allowed himself to be carried away by the\nperverse and perilous subtlety of a certain school of philosophers,\nboth in ancient and modern times, who thought to do honour to the\neud\u00e6monistic principle by confounding the good with the\npleasurable.[49.2] For the distinction so broadly established in all\nlanguages between Pleasure as an affair of momentary excitement or\ntitillation, and Good as the source of lasting and permanent\nenjoyment, is not to be obliterated by the arbitrary terminology of\nmen who write ethical systems in books. According to the established\nuse of language, from Socrates and St. Paul down to the present hour,\nPleasure cannot be the good of man,--it may be the good of a brute;\nfor as pleasure is momentary happiness, without reason, or it may be\noften in the teeth of reason, so the Good is reasonable and permanent\nhappiness, accompanied, it may be, with a little momentary pain, but\nproductive of lasting satisfaction. So much for eud\u00e6monism. Then, as\nfor utilitarianism, whether it be a different thing from eud\u00e6monism,\nor only a different aspect of the same thing, {50} there is nothing\nmore certain than that Socrates was a utilitarian. The word _useful_\n(\u03c7\u03c1\u03ae\u03c3\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd or \u1f60\u03c6\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd) is constantly occurring in his conversations;\nutility in fact was the starting-point of his whole movement, and\ngives the key-note to all his discussions; for his grand objection, as\nwe saw above, to the physical speculations of his predecessors, was\nthat they were useless, as opposed to which the doctrine which he\npreached was recommended on the ground of its practical utility. Of\nthis utilitarian principle he was indeed so fond, that, like his\ndoctrine of virtue being founded on knowledge, he was inclined to push\nit too far, and certainly did run it, in some cases, to absolute\nfalsity. This appears most strikingly in two dialogues in the Memoirs,\nwhere, in opposition to the idol-worship of mere beauty, so dear to\nthe Greeks, he flatly lays down the counter proposition that nothing\ncan be beautiful except in so far as it serves the purpose for which\nit was intended; in other words, that beauty consists in that\nsuitability or fitness of an article to effect its purpose which makes\nit a useful article. But every one sees that there is a jump in the\nlogic here, which, if Socrates had been as anxious to establish a\nscientific theory of beauty as he was to present rational morals, he\ncertainly could not have made. For though every article, as the\nimperative condition of its existence, ought to answer the purpose for\nwhich it was made, and the article which answers this purpose best is\nthe best article; and though beauty of structure is a something\nsuperadded, and which will always offend if it is plainly at war with\nthe design, fitness, and utility of the structure--for which reason,\nas architects say, the ornamentation {51} ought always to grow out of\nthe construction,--it is quite a different thing to say that beauty\nand fitness or utility are identical. The railway companies in our day\nhave thrown across not a few beautiful rivers and picturesque gorges\nthe ugliest iron bridges that can be conceived; but no doubt they are\nas useful, and perhaps may be more permanent, than stone structures of\na more elegant and graceful design. We shall therefore say that\nSocrates, in his remarks on the \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd, pushed his utilitarian\nprinciples and the extreme practicality of his nature into\nthe domain of the absurd and the false. But within his proper province\nof morals, one cannot see that he was led by his doctrine of utility\ninto any speculative or practical mistake. For the word _useful_ in\nitself is a word which really has no meaning; it is always only a\nstepping-stone to something beyond itself, and receives significance\nonly when from some independent source the end is exhibited which the\nuseful object subserves. When, therefore, Socrates talks about\nmorality being identical with utility, he is not asserting a\nphilosophical principle like the modern writers who use that term; he\nonly means to say that a certain course of conduct founded on reason,\nor certain maxims deduced from reason, are useful to a man to enable\nhim to obtain the end of his existence, that is, a certain happiness\naccording to his opportunities and capacities. And if the advocates of\nthe so-called utilitarian philosophy, finding the utter unmeaningness\nof their favourite shibboleth as a distinctive term, shall tell us\nthat utility means something absolute (which however it can do only by\ninterpolating into itself an altogether foreign idea), if, however,\nthey shall say, as they are {52} in the habit of doing, that that\ncourse of action is useful which tends to promote \u201cthe greatest\nhappiness of the greatest number,\u201d then here they say nothing which\neither Socrates or Plato or the apostle Paul, or Dr. Wollaston or\nImmanuel Kant or in fact any sane man, ever dreamt of contravening. In\nvirtue of his faith in the innate sociabilities of man as opposed to\nthe selfism of Hobbes, Socrates could not but believe that it was his\nduty, after having made his own life reasonable in the first place, to\nhelp other people to get out of the limbo of unreason as speedily as\npossible. This he says again and again in his conversations; in fact,\nhis whole missionary exertions meant nothing else; and the\nphilanthropic power of the missionary impulse which impelled him to\nseek the rational happiness of his fellow-men having once full sway in\nhis heart, the wish for the greatest happiness of the greatest number\nfollowed as a matter of course. Every missionary estimates his success\nand feels his moral enjoyment increased by the number of his converts.\nThe man who desires the happiness of his fellow-beings at all, whether\nas Epicurus or Plato, must desire that happiness to the greatest\nnumber of human beings that can comfortably enjoy it within certain\ngiven limits of space and time.\n\nThe next great division of our subject leads us to consider, what is\nby no means a matter of secondary importance, the peculiar and\ncharacteristic manner in which Socrates inculcated the lofty\nprinciples of his ethical philosophy--the so-called Socratic method of\nteaching and of preaching. Now, with regard to this, in the first\nplace, what lies on the surface is that the Socratic method of\ninculcating the principles of morals consists in a sort of catechising\nor cross-questioning {53} such as is practised by lawyers in\nWestminster Hall, a method which is generally considered not the most\npleasant of operations even there, and which if practised now-a-days\nby private persons, whether in West-end saloons or in East-end\nparlours, would certainly be considered extremely ill-bred. And that\nthis should be the general feeling of all classes of mankind with\nregard to the matter is natural enough; for the object of the\noperation being generally to convince the person operated on that he\nknows nothing about what he professes to know, and to do this by\npublicly entangling him in the web of his own arguments, and forcing\nhim into a self-contradiction, it is obvious that self-esteem and love\nof approbation will, in ninety-nine cases out of the hundred, be\nstrong enough to stir a certain degree of resentment in the breast of\nthe sufferer. Nay, sometimes will he not feel like a poor fish\ncleverly hooked by an expert angler, and played about perhaps more to\nshow the skill of the captor than from any consideration of the\nfeelings of the captive? All this is very true; and no doubt Socrates\nmade not a few enemies by this extremely personal method of exposing\nthe manifold superficialities and incompetencies of the persons with\nwhom he conversed. But, upon the whole, that he was rather a popular\nman, or more correctly, an extremely popular man, in Athens, during a\nlong lifetime, notwithstanding the catastrophe of the hemlock, seems\npretty plain both from Xenophon and Plato. This popularity, in the\nface of what certainly was a rather odious mission, arose both from\nthe kindly sympathetic nature of the man, and from the admirable tact\nwhich the philosopher constantly displayed in dealing {54} with those\nwhom he submitted to the operation of his ethical probe. Though in the\nmajority of cases he was found to end in a direct contradiction of the\noriginal position of his adversary, he always commenced by agreeing\nwith him; and if he saw nothing absolutely to agree with in the way of\nargument, he took care to launch him in a good humour by praising some\nexcellence in him or about him. Thus, in the case of Euthydemus,\nmentioned above as the possessor of a large library, he gives\nprominence to the praiseworthy ambition shown by the young man to\nspend his money rather on the sentences of the wise than on the\nvanities of external pomp and pernicious dissipation; and thus, though\nthe young book-fancier departs at the end of the dialogue altogether\nshorn of his conceit, and thinking the best thing he can do hereafter\nto prove his learning is to hold his tongue, yet he leaves the\nphilosopher with no rankling ill-will, but rather disposed towards him\nas one feels towards a kind and considerate physician who has been\nforced to administer to his patient a nauseous drug. And thus the mild\nmanner of the teacher removed, in a great measure, the offence of the\nlesson; for it is, as an apostle says, \u201cthe wrath of man which\nworketh not the righteousness of God,\u201d in most cases, not the mere\nspeaking of the truth, if the truth be spoken in love. Let us inquire\nnow more particularly how the cross-examination went on. Aristotle, in\na well-known passage of the Metaphysics, tells us that there were two\ninventions to which Socrates might justly lay claim--the defining of\ngeneral terms (\u03c4\u1f78 \u1f41\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03cc\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5), and inductive reasoning\n(\u1f10\u03c0\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u1f76 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9). A modern instance will enable us to understand {55}\nwhat this means. Suppose I get into an argument with any person as to\nwhether A. or B., or any person holding certain opinions, manifesting\ncertain feelings, and acting in a certain way, is a Christian. I say\nhe is; my contradictor says he is not; how, then, shall we settle the\ndifference? Following the example of Socrates, the best procedure\ncertainly will be to ask him to define what he means by a Christian.\nSuppose then he answers, _A Christian is a religious person who\nbelieves in the Nicene Creed_, I immediately reply, The Nicene Creed\nwas not sent forth till the year 325 after Christ; what then do you\nmake of the thousands and hundreds of thousands of Christians who\nlived before that? To this objection the answer of course will be that\nthe Nicene Creed, though not set forth in express articles, did\nvirtually exist as a part of the living faith of all true Christians.\nThen, if I doubt this, I say, Was Origen a Christian, was Justin\nMartyr a Christian? are you sure these two Fathers believed every\narticle of that Creed? My opponent now, in all likelihood, not being\nprofoundly versed in patristic lore, is staggered; and I proceed, we\nshall suppose, to cite some passages from some one of the ante-Nicene\nFathers, which imply dissent from some of the articles of the orthodox\nsymbol. He is then reduced to the dilemma of either denying that this\nFather was a Christian, or (as that will scarcely be allowable)\nwidening his original definition so as to include a variety of cases\nwhich, by the narrowness of the terms, were excluded. I then go on to\ntest the comprehensiveness of the new definition in the same way; and\nif I find that it contains any elements which belong to the species\nand not to {56} the genus, any peculiarities say of modern Calvinism,\nor of medi\u00e6val Popery, that do not belong to the general term\n\u201cChristianity,\u201d I push him into a corner in the same way as\nbefore, till I bring out from his own admissions a pure and broad\ndefinition of the designation Christian, as opposed to Heathen, Jew,\nor any other sort of religious professor. Now the example here given\nwas purposely chosen, to make manifest by a familiar example, what\neveryday experience must teach us, that the principal cause of\ndifference of opinion amongst men is, that people start in argument\nwith some general term, with respect to which they do not know, and\nhave in fact never thought of seriously inquiring, what extent of\nground it covers. So that when the inadequate notions with which the\nminds of untrained persons are possessed have to be replaced by\nadequate ones, the process always resolves itself into a making of\ndefinitions, and a strict scrutiny of some general term, which had\nhitherto passed current without special interrogation. A teacher\ntherefore, who would be practically useful to mankind, and not merely\nmake brilliant oratorical displays to tickle and to amuse, must before\nall things make it his business to see that they have clear ideas, not\non matters of profound and remote speculation, but on the common\ncurrency of general terms which the necessities of social life\nrequire. Such a teacher was Socrates; and hence the logical form which\nhis practical teaching by cross-examination, among a people\npassionately fond of arguing, naturally assumed. A less argumentative\npeople than the Greeks, such as ourselves,--English and Scotch and\nIrish,--will often look on a Socratic dialogue in Plato, or even\nXenophon, {57} as curiously pedantic, which to the Athenians was only\namusingly subtle. Even Socrates, the most practical, and, in the sense\nexplained above, the most utilitarian of men, loved to have his little\nlogical play out of the discussion, in a fashion which to a broad\npractical Briton, unaccustomed to speculation, and impatient, often\nincapable of grappling with a principle, would appear impertinent. So\nmuch for the Socratic hunt after definitions. As to the other point\nmentioned by Aristotle, that Socrates deserves praise as the inventor\nof inductive reasoning, there is really no cause for surprise in the\nmatter. Lord Bacon was not the inventor of this method of dealing with\nfacts; neither indeed, if we look beneath the surface, was Socrates;\nboth induction and deduction exist in a state of constant action and\nreaction in every normally developed human mind; but the praise which\nbelongs to Bacon is that of having pressed the inductive method, with\nstrong adjurations and a special machinery, into the service of\nphysical science; while the praise, no less important, belongs to\nSocrates, of having taught men four hundred years before Christ, to be\nas scrupulously exact in testing by experience their moral ideas, as\nthey now are in proving by experiment their physical theories. Let us\ntake a well-known instance of induction in physical science, and then\nsee how, under certain obvious modifications, the same method of\nprocedure must be adopted in the successful cultivation of the moral\nsciences. We know, for instance, that there exists a marvellous,\nalmost miraculous, force pervading the universe, called Electricity;\nthis is now one of the widest of general terms in the vocabulary of\nphysical science, and arrived at, like {58} all other such terms, by\nthe carefully weighed steps of a long induction. Certain phenomena of\nattraction are first observed, in reference to amber, wax, and other\nbodies, when rubbed, free from the influence of humidity; the same\nphenomena are then observed in other bodies, and accompanied with the\nemission of sparks of light and tiny explosions; by an ingeniously\ncontrived apparatus the force which causes these sparks and these\nexplosions is accumulated, and the effects produced by this higher\npotency of the same force become of course more noticeable, and some\nof these experiments lead a thinking man irresistibly to the notion\nthat what we call electricity, as elicited by us from our electrical\nmachines, is only a sort of mimic thunder and lightning, as crackers\nwith which boys play on the Queen\u2019s birthday are in principle the\nsame as big cannons and Lancaster guns. This idea, once entertained,\nis tested in many different ways, till the conclusion is certainly\narrived at that electricity and lightning are identical. By and by\nother forces, such as magnetism and galvanism, being considered more\ncarefully, and compared with the electricity of the electric machines,\nare found to possess many points of resemblance, and are in time\nconcluded to be fundamentally the same; and now our general term\nelectricity is widened into a cosmical power, which if we fail to\ndefine, the failure will arise not from building on partial facts, but\nbecause our generalization has clearly mounted so high into the domain\nof the Infinite that the finite understanding staggers, and perhaps is\ndoomed for ever to stagger, at the attempt to hold it in firm grasp.\nThus the progress of physical science is a continual process of the\ngiving up of inadequate {59} general terms, and supplying them by\nsomething either exactly adequate, or approximating to adequacy, as\nhigh as the human intellect can hope to ascend. Now to this process\nthe discovery of the true significance of general terms in morals\nforms an exact parallel. Suppose, for instance, a young Englishman\nemerging out of the merely physical delights of cricket and\nboat-racing, and beginning to occupy himself seriously with some of\nthe great social questions of the day. To him morality first presents\nitself, not in the form of logical analysis, the characteristic engine\nof Socrates, but in the concrete form of the Christian Church. He\nstarts therefore with an idea of ethical science as a part of\nChristianity, and of Christianity as he knows it, formulated in\ncertain articles of belief, represented dramatically in certain\nliturgic services, and held together by a certain hierarchy of\noffice-bearers. In this condition it is not to be expected that the\nidea either of Morals, or of Church, or of Religion, or of\nChristianity, will exist in his mind so purified from adventitious and\naccidental matter as to stand the test of strict reasoning. What then\nis to be done with him, if he is not to remain contented with that\npurely local conception of moral and religious truth which belongs to\nhim like his cylindrical hat or his swallow-tail coat, as an affair of\naccepted tradition rather than of reasoned truth? Plainly there is\nonly one course: you must convince him of the insufficiency of his\npremises for warranting any general conclusion at all; and, then\nleading him through the whole moral and ecclesiastical experience of\nthe Christian Church, open to him a wide and a sure field of\nobservation from which legitimate inductions {60} with regard to moral\nand religious ideas comprised in the term Christianity can be made. So\nthat the cross-examination, of which we gave a specimen above, is in\nreality a process of induction as much as the processes in physical\nscience by which electricity is identified with galvanism, and both\nwith magnetism. But if the ethical idea is to emerge perfectly pure\nfrom such an investigation, our young Episcopal philosopher will\nrequire to broaden his conception of morality and religion yet\nfurther, so as to embrace moral phenomena of an important kind beyond\nthe pale of the term Christianity altogether. No doubt Christianity is\nto us, and has been to the most favoured races of humanity, for nearly\ntwo thousand years, the grand bearer of the deepest moral truth; but\nthe religion of Christ does not exist everywhere,--did not exist\ncertainly when a Pythagoras, a Socrates, and a Plato founded their\ngreat schools of moral teaching and training among the Greeks; and\nthus to bring out the ethical idea strong in the internal identity of\nall its various Avatars, our young inquirer must launch out into the\nwide, and in a great measure hitherto unexplored, sea of comparative\nethics and comparative theology. A type of this sort of procedure will\nbe found in the late admirable Baron Bunsen\u2019s book entitled _God in\nHistory_, a work with regard to which even those who do not accept all\nits conclusions must admit that it is constructed upon the only scheme\non which a large and adequate philosophy of ethical and religious\ntruth can be raised.\n\nWe have said that moral investigation, when conducted on the Socratic\nmethod, is as truly inductive as any process in physical science. But\nthere is a {61} distinction, and that a very vital one. In moral\ninquiries we can often start directly with deduction from some inward\nprinciple, implanted in the human mind by the Author of our being. The\nlove of truth, for instance, as above set forth, is one of those\nprinciples; our general term in this case we bring with us; and any\ninduction which we may require is not to prove the existence of such\nan instinct, but to verify, to extend, and to correct our notions of\nits applicability, or perhaps merely to confirm us in our original\nsacred faith, by showing in detail that society never has existed, and\nin fact never can exist, without that regard to truth in all dealings\nof man with man, the necessity of which we had asserted originally\nfrom the constraining power of the inborn moral imperative decree. And\nif our moral principles always existed in a vivid and healthy state,\nthere might be little need for the slow retrogressive process of\ninduction in ethics; but as these instincts are peculiarly liable to\nbe enfeebled, curtailed, and perverted by individual neglect, as well\nas social constraint, the corrective and cathartic process by\ninduction on a more extended basis becomes necessary for the worst\nmen, and not without utility for the best. At the same time, of the\nnoblest minds in the moral world it may always be asserted that their\nwhole life has been rather a practical deduction from lofty truths\ngiven by original inspiration from the Divine Source of all vitality\nthan the product of any induction from an acquired survey of facts.\nThe work of a great moral teacher or reformer, such as the apostle\nPaul or Thomas Chalmers, is in fact a creation as much as the poems of\na Shakespeare or the paintings of a Raphael; and has a {62} manifest\naffinity also with the grand deductions of mathematical genius, which,\nfrom the postulated form of a triangle, a circle, or other figure of\nwhich the conditions are dictated by the mind, not gathered from\nobservation, evolves an array of the most curious relations, of which\nno one had hitherto dreamed, and which are each one as necessary and\nabsolutely true as the postulate from which they came forth. Exactly\nso with Morals. An admitted postulate--say of truthfulness, of love,\nor whatever inborn original principle you please,--may be worked out\nas the world advances into ever new and more noble practical\napplications, which shall be as unconditionally right as the original\ndiving force out of which they grew. And as the propositions of Euclid\ncan be proved _a posteriori_ by empirical measurements, though they do\nnot depend on these measurements, in the same way the great truths of\nethical science may be proved from induction, though in the case at\nleast of great moral teachers they are the direct and pure products of\nan inspired deduction. And both with respect to mathematical and moral\ntruths, it may be said that, while the _a posteriori_ inductive method\nforces assent upon the lowest class of minds, the _a priori_ or\ndeductive method is the spontaneous evolution of the highest class of\nminds, whose dictates are sympathetically accepted by all whom Divine\ngrace may have disposed to be touched by the noble contagion.\n\nSo much for the logical element in the Socratic method. But as his\nlogic was merely the dexterous weapon of a great moral apostleship, we\nmust look on him also from this aspect, and contrast the method of his\nteaching with that of a modern sermon. {63} A sermon is either the\nmost rousing and effective, or the tamest and most ineffective of all\nmoral addresses, according to the character and power of the man who\ndelivers it. If the speaker has a real vocation to address his\nfellow-men on moral subjects, and if he does not deal in vague and\ntrivial generalities, sounding very pious on Sunday, but having no\ndistinct and recognisable reference to the secular business of Monday,\nthen a good sermon may be compared to a discharge of moral\nelectricity, which will arouse many sleepers, or to the setting up of\na sure finger-post, which will direct many wanderers. But if he is\ntame, and a mere professional dealer in certain routine articles of\npiety, which religious people wear as a sort of amulet rather than use\nas a weapon--in this case no species of moral address can be looked on\nas less effective; for it neither rouses nor guides, and instead of\nending in any work in the life of the hearer (and all moral teaching\nthat does not end in a work is vanity), the hearing of it is rather\nlooked on as a sort of work in itself, which, however short, is\ngenerally considered as having been a little too long when it is\nended. Now, as distinguished from both these styles of pulpit address,\nthe Socratic sermon was addressed to the individual man, and could not\nfail to produce a distinct and tangible effect; for it ended always by\nsaying to the hearer, as Nathan said to David, THOU ART THE MAN!\nThere was no escape from the appeal; it might not hover about the ears\nwith a pious hum for half an hour, and then be forgotten; it must\neither be indignantly rejected, or graciously accepted. And herein\nprecisely lay the great distinction between Socrates and the Sophists,\n{64} a distinction which Mr. Grote has so perversely done his best to\nobliterate. Socrates was a preacher; the Sophists were not. Socrates\nwas a patriot fighting and dying earnestly for a great cause; the\nSophists were cunning masters of fence, who had no cause to fight for\nexcept themselves and their own pockets. But Socrates, though in a\nvery different way, was as earnestly a moral reformer in Athens as\nCalvin was in Geneva. When the stern Genevese disciplinarian set\nhimself with all the resolution of a manly nature to put some checks\nand hindrances in the way of the loose practices of the\n\u201cLibertines\u201d of Lake Leman, these respectable people protested\nstrongly against the attempt, saying to the unflinching preacher,\n\u201cIt is your place to explain the Scriptures; what right have you to\nmeddle with other things--to talk about morals and find fault?\u201d And\neven so in Athens there were certain Libertines who used exactly the\nsame language to Socrates. Had you been a mere talker like the other\nSophists, you might have been allowed to talk; talking is a very\ninnocent affair; but your talk is not a mere exhibition of lingual\ndexterity; it means something; it means perhaps danger to the\nState,--certainly it means danger to us; it means that we may be\ncalled to account for our deeds by any man who assumes to have a more\nscrupulous conscience or a more enlightened reason than ourselves; and\nthis is what we will not tolerate.\n\nOne of the oddities of Socrates which seems to have offended the nice\ntaste of the \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2, or men of elegant culture in Athens,\nwas the homeliness of his style and the familiarity of his\nillustrations. This is particularly alluded to by Alcibiades in the\n{65} humorous speech in Plato\u2019s Banquet; from which an extract has\nbeen already made. In the peroration of that speech Alcibiades is made\nto say that not only the personal appearance, but the whole style and\nlanguage of Socrates, had a close affinity to the Sileni and Satyrs;\nfor instead of using elegantly turned sentences and studiously\nselected illustrations, like the Sophists, he was always talking about\n\u201csmiths and tanners and shoemakers, and asses with pack-saddles,\u201d\nand a whole host of such vulgarities, which to the hearer at first\nseemed to make him ridiculous; but by and by they discovered that\nbehind all this rough Satyr\u2019s hide of uncouth expression there\nlurked a truly divine meaning, and the faces of gods peeped out\nthrough the holes of the beggar\u2019s coat. And the same language is\nused in Xenophon by Critias and Charicles when, in the exercise of a\ntyrannical authority, they called upon the philosopher to cease from\nhis dangerous business of talking sedition to the young men. Now, any\nman who considers this matter will perceive that the peculiarity of\nstyle here noted lay partly in the natural character of the man,\npartly was the best style which he could possibly have adopted, if he\nreally wished to do good as a moral missionary, and not merely to\nparade himself before men as a clever talker. The dignity of the\npulpit in modern times is one of the great causes of its comparative\ninefficiency; it will not condescend to familiar subjects; it rejects\nfamiliar illustrations as bad taste, and the consequence too\nfrequently is that it is not received into the confidence of every-day\nlife, and stands apart on too lofty a pedestal to be useful. But as a\nsensible and acute ethical writer remarks, {66} \u201cif moral questions\ndisdain to walk the streets, the philosophy of them must remain in the\nclouds;\u201d[66.1] and so Socrates is justified in his method of testing\nevery lofty principle by a familiar example, and, like Wordsworth, the\nthoughtful poet of the Lakes, teaching us that philosophy is then most\nprofound when it points out what is uncommon in common things, and\nthat he is a wiser man who plucks a lesson from the daisy at his feet\nthan he who wanders for it to the stars above his head.\n\nAnother notable peculiarity of the Socratic method is, that, while in\nthe majority of cases the discussion seems to end in unveiling the\nignorance of pretenders to knowledge, and, as we express it, taking\nthe conceit out of them, in other cases the young examinee, instead of\nbeing convicted of ignorance, is pleasantly surprised at finding that\nhe knows more than he suspected, and goes home with the comfortable\nassurance that he needs not to sink his bucket into any foreign shaft,\nbut really possesses a well of living waters in his own soul, if he\nwill only work it faithfully, and be careful to remove obstructions.\nThe unveiling of this hidden fountain of knowledge to the humble and\nthoughtful inquirer is the famous obstetric process of which Socrates\nhumorously boasted himself a practiser. As his mother\u2019s profession\nwas to help nature to bring her physical births easily and happily to\nthe light, so her son\u2019s business was to practise intellectual\nobstetrics, and help people to deliver themselves of their\nintellectual offspring. In this method of talking there is involved\nthe whole philosophy of the best art of teaching; even as the word\n_education_ by its {67} etymological affinities plainly indicates, in\nso far as it signifies to \u201cdraw out,\u201d not to \u201cput in.\u201d We see\nhere again the practical issue of that fine erotic passion for human\nbeings, that divine rage for humanity, which was the inspiration of\nhis life, and put into his hands the golden key to the hearts of all\nteachable men. While he was the most exact and scientific, he was, at\nthe same time, the least dogmatic and egotistic of moral teachers. He\ndid not desire so much that men should placidly submit to receive his\ndogmas, as that they should be trained to the grand human function of\nshaping out the universal divine idea, or at least some part of it,\neach man for himself, according to his capacity. He wished to be no\nmore than the trencher of the moral soil, not the planter of the seed;\nthe seed lay already in the clod, which being broken, the outward\ninfluences of sun and air and dew excited, from within the growth of\nan essentially divine germ.\n\nLet it be noted under this head, in conclusion, that it was essential\nto the reformatory mission of Socrates that he should teach without a\nfee. The man who practises a trade or a profession may justly demand\nthe wages of his labour; but to preach moral truth, to protest against\npublic sins, and convert sinners, is no profession for which the world\ncan be expected to pay. Those who practise remunerative trades and\nprofessions supply the immediate wants of the world, and are paid in\nthe world\u2019s coin; but for this payment they become the slaves of the\nmasters who employ them, and must give the rightful value for the\nstipulated reward. But a prophet, or an apostle, or a teacher of moral\ntruth in any shape, knows that he is bringing an article to the {68}\nmarket for which there may be no demand; he knows further that, by his\nmere attitude as a preacher, he is assuming a superiority over his\nbrethren which is inconsistent with the equality of position and right\nwhich the act of buying and selling supposes in the parties concerned.\nHe must, above all things, be free in his function; and to accept\nmoney from no one is the first condition of moral independence. Of\nthis the father of the faithful, as we read in the Book of Genesis,\ngave an illustrious example, when he refused to take any of the booty\noffered to him by the king of Sodom, \u201clest thou shouldest say, I\nhave made Abram rich.\u201d And for the same reason manifestly, neither\nthe Hebrew prophets nor the apostle Paul were paid for their\npreaching, nor indeed in the nature of things could he. Savonarola was\nnot paid for publicly preaching against the vicious lives of the\nPopes; Luther was not paid for his manly protest against the\nprostitution of Divine grace in the sale of pardons for tinkling\nsilver; and in the same way Socrates was not, and could not be, paid\nfor his mission of convincing the cleverest persons in Athens of\nignorance, shallowness, and all sorts of inadequacy. In fact he did\nnot come forward as a professional teacher at all. He issued no\nflaming advertisements. He only said that he was a man in search of\nwisdom, and would be glad of any honest man\u2019s company and\nco-operation in the search. The Sophists in this and in so many other\nrespects were altogether different. They made large professions and\naccepted large fees.\n\nIt remains now, in order to complete our sketch, that we give some\nindication of the theological {69} opinions and religious life of\nSocrates; then that we point shortly to his political opinions and\npublic life; and lastly, that we attempt a just estimate of the\ncircumstances and agencies which led to his singularly notable and\nnoble exit from the brilliant stage where he had for so many years\nbeen the prominent performer. That Socrates because he was a moralist\nshould have been also a theologian is not absolutely necessary; it is\nnatural, however; so natural, indeed, that when a great popular\nteacher, like Confucius, though not theoretically an atheist,\npractically ignores religion, we cannot but accept this as a sign of\nsome mental idiosyncrasy alike unfortunate for the teacher and the\ntaught. For to deny a First Cause, or not to assert it decidedly, is\nas if a man, professing to be a botanist, should describe only the\ncharacter of the flower and the fruit as what appears above ground,\nwhile either from stupidity or cross-grained perversity, he ignores\nthe root and the seed, without which the whole beauty of the blossom\nand the utility of the fruit could not exist; or, to take another\nsimile, it is as if a man should curiously describe the cylinders and\nthe pistons and the wheels, the furnaces, the boilers, and the\ncondensing chambers of a steam-engine, and while doing so studiously\navoid mentioning the name of James Watt. One would say, in such a\ncase, that, while the describer deserved great praise for the\nclearness and consistency with which he had set forth the sequence of\nmechanical operations that make up the engine, he had left an\nunsatisfactory impression on the mind, by omitting the grand fact\nwhich rendered the existence of such an engine possible, viz., a\ncreative intellect. We should say that he was a good mechanician and\nan {70} eloquent expounder of machinery, but we could not call him a\nphilosopher; he had stopped short, in fact, at the very point where\nphilosophy finds its thrill of peculiar delight at the vestibule of\nultimate causes. To the scientific man, in the same way, who is either\na speculative atheist or who studiously avoids any allusion to an\noriginal plastic Intellect as the Ultimate Cause of all things and the\nPrimary Force of all forces, the universe is merely a vast unexplained\nmachine, performing a closely concatenated series of unintelligible\noperations, tabulated under the name of Laws; and to the moralist, who\nis only a moralist, society is a machine of another kind, whose wheels\nand pulleys and bands may be curiously described, and must be kept in\nnice order, but of whose genesis he can give no intelligible account.\nIt follows, therefore, that a philosophical moralist must be a theist,\nand that not only on speculative grounds, but from this practical\nconsideration also, that from no source can the Moral Law derive the\nunity and the authority which is essential to it, so efficiently as\nfrom the all-controlling and unifying primary fact which we call\nGOD. Any other keystone contrived by ingenious wits to give\nconsistency to the social arch is artificial; this alone is\nnatural.[70.1] Accordingly we find that from the days of Moses and the\nHebrew prophets, through Solon and Pythagoras to Socrates and Plato;\nfrom Socrates and {71} Plato through the Apostles and Evangelists and\nthe grand army of Church Fathers, to Luther, Calvin, Knox, and the\nother great Reformers of the sixteenth century; from the great\nChurchmen of the Reformation through Leibnitz and Spinoza, and Locke\nand Butler and Kant, down to the very recent and low platform of Paley\nand Austin, the foundation of Morals has been laid in Theology. And of\nall great theological moralists there is none who is at once more\ntheoretically distinct and more practically consistent than Socrates.\nTo him is to be traced the first scientific expression of the great\nargument from design,--an argument, no doubt, which is as old as the\nhuman heart, and exists in all unperverted minds without being\nformulated, but which, in a logical age and among a critical people,\nnot the less demands to be set forth, link by link, and illustrated in\ndetail as Socrates does in the following dialogue, a dialogue which we\nshall translate at length, at once as a notable landmark in\ntheological literature, and as a good illustration of the\nphilosopher\u2019s favourite method of bringing out a grave truth from a\nfamiliar colloquy.\n\n\u201cThere was one Aristodemus, a little man, well known in Athens, not\nonly as one who never either sacrificed to the gods or used\ndivination, but as laughing and jeering at those who did so. This man\nSocrates one day happened to meet, and knowing his tendencies\naddressed him at once thus. Tell me, Aristodemus, are there any\npersons whom you admire particularly for their wisdom? That there are,\nhe replied. Well, said Socrates, let me hear the names of a few.\nHomer, said the other, for epic poetry; Melanippides for dithyrambs;\nfor tragedy, Sophocles; {72} for sculpture, Polycleitus; for painting,\nZeuxis. Then tell me this, which is worthy of the greater admiration,\nthe artist who makes figures which have neither life nor intelligence,\nor He who makes animals that have both life and intelligence? This\nartist, of course, said Aristodemus; for such animals would not be\nmade by chance, but by calculation. Well then, of two classes of\nthings, whereof the one has manifestly been constructed for some\nuseful end, and the other, so far as one can see, for no end at all,\nwhich would you call the product of calculation? Of course the things\nmade for some useful end. Now answer me this,--He who made men at\nfirst, and gave them senses to bring them into contact with the\noutward world, eyes to see and ears to hear, did He furnish them with\nthese organs for a useful purpose or for no purpose at all? and as for\nodours and smells, if we had not nostrils, so far as we are concerned\nthey might as well not have existed; and how could we have had any\nperception of sweet and sour, and all agreeable tastes, had we not\nbeen furnished with a tongue to take, cognisance of such sensations?\nObserve further, how the eye, being naturally a tender organ, is\nsupplied with eyelids as a house with a door, which may be opened to\nreceive pleasant guests, and closed when danger approaches; the\neye-lashes also manifestly serve as a sort of sieve to prevent the\npassage of any injurious particles which the wind might drive against\nthe pupil, while the eyebrows form a sort of coping or fence which\nprevents the sweat from the forehead flowing into the organ of vision.\nNot less wonderful is it that the ear is so formed as to be able to\ntake in an uncounted number of various sounds, and {73} yet is never\nfilled; and in the mouth we are instantly met with the remarkable fact\nin all animals, that, while the front teeth, which take up the food,\nare formed for cutting, the back teeth, which receive it from them,\nare adapted for the after operation of grinding; observe also the\nsituation of the great organ of nourishment, close to eyes and the\nnostrils, which keep a watch against the approach of unhealthy food;\nwhile on the other hand, that part of the food which is useless for\nnutrition, being naturally offensive, is carried off by ducts and\npassages placed at as great a distance as possible from the organs of\nsensation. All these contrivances, so manifestly proceeding from a\npurpose, can we doubt whether we should call works of chance or of\nintellect? Looking at the matter in this light, certainly, said the\nlittle man, I can have no hesitation in saying these are the\ncontrivances of a very wise and benevolent designer. Consider further,\ncontinued Socrates, how there is implanted in all animals a desire of\ncontinuing their species, how the parents have a pleasure in breeding,\nand the offspring are above all things distinguished by the love of\nlife and the fear of death. These also, he said, seem to be the\ncontrivances of some Being who wished that animals should exist. Then,\ncontinued Socrates, consider yourself--do you believe that there is\nsomething in you which we call Intelligence? and, if in you, whence\ncame it? is there no intelligence in the world outside of you? Your\nbody, you perceive, is made up of certain very small portions of solid\nand liquid elements, of which vast quantities exist beyond you, and of\nwhich your body is a part; and if your body is taken from such a vast\nstorehouse of matter, is your mind the only {74} part of you which is\nunderived from any source, and which you seem to have snapped up\nsomehow by good luck? and is it possible, or in any way conceivable,\nthat all this gigantic and beautifully ordered form of things which we\ncall the world should have jumped into its present consistency from\nmere random forces without calculation? Scarcely; but then I do not\nsee the authors of the world as I do of works which men produce here.\nAs little do you see your own soul, said Socrates, which yet is the\nlord of your body, so that, taking your own logic strictly, you must\nconclude that you do all things by chance and nothing by calculation.\nWell then, said Aristodemus, the fact is that I do not despise the\nDivine Power,[74.1] but I esteem all Divine natures too mighty and too\nglorious to require any service from me. For this reason rather they\njustly claim our regard, said Socrates, their might and their glory\nbeing the natural measure of the honour which they ought to receive\nfrom us. Well, be assured, Socrates, that if I could only imagine that\nthe gods had any concern for us, I should not neglect them. And do you\nreally mean to affirm that they actually have no concern for us? Why,\nconsider what they have done for you; in the first place giving you an\nerect stature, which they gave to no other animal, a stature by virtue\nof which you not only see better before you, but can look upwards\nalso, and defend yourself in many ways which with downcast eyes were\nimpossible; and in the next place, not content with giving you feet,\nlike other animals, they have furnished {75} you with hands also, the\norgans by which we practise most of those acts which manifest our\nsuperiority to them;[75.1] and, to crown all, while other animals have\na tongue, man alone possesses this organ of such a nature that by\ntouching the hollow of the mouth with it in various ways he can mould\nthe emitted voice into articulate speech, significant of what thought\nwishes to communicate to thought. Again, the love which is a passion\nthat stirs other animals only at certain seasons of the year, man is\ncapable of enjoying at all seasons; and not only do our capacities of\nbodily efficiency and enjoyment so far surpass those of other animals,\nbut God (\u1f41 \u0398\u03b5\u03cc\u03c2) has implanted in man a soul of the most\ntranscendent capacity. For what other animal, I ask, has a soul which\nenables it to own and to acknowledge the existence of the gods, who\nhave disposed all this mighty order of things of which we are a part?\nWhat race of animals except man pays any worship to the gods?[75.2]\nWhat animal possesses a soul so fit as that of man to guard against\nthe inclemencies of the weather, to prevent or cure disease, to train\nto bodily strength or to intellectual acuteness? and what animal when\nit has learned anything can retain the lesson with equal tenacity? Is\nit not rather plain that, compared with other animals, men live really\nas gods upon the earth, so strikingly superior {76} are they both in\nbodily and intellectual endowments; for neither could a creature with\nman\u2019s reason, but with the body of an ox, have been able fully to\nexecute its purposes; nor, again, could a creature with human hands,\nbut without human intellect, be able to go beyond the brute stage of\nanimal life; and after all this, heaped up as you are with bounties\nand blessings from all sides, will you still persist in thinking that\nyou are a creature neglected by the gods? What, I ask, do you expect\nthem to do for you before they shall have any just claim to your\nregard? I shall expect them, replied Aristodemus, to do for me what\nyou say they do for you, to send me advisers as to what I ought to do\nand what I ought not to do. Be it so; and do you think that your case\nis not already provided for, when the gods on being consulted through\ndivination give an answer which concerns all Athenians? or do you\nimagine when the Greeks, or the whole human race, are warned of coming\nevil by a portent, that you are specially excluded from the benefit of\nthat divine indication? Do you imagine that the gods would have\nimplanted in all human breasts the feeling that they are able to do us\ngood or evil, if they did not possess this power, or that men\nconstantly being deceived by this notion would not by this time have\ndiscovered the delusion? Have you not observed also that the wisest\nnations and the most stable governments are those which are the most\nreligious, and that individual men are then most piously inclined when\ntheir reason is strongest and their passions most under control?\nBelieve me, my dear young friend, that as your soul within you moves\nand manages the body even as it wills, so we ought {77} to believe\nthat the Intelligence which indwelleth the whole of things makes and\ndesigns all things according to its good pleasure, and not to imagine\nthat while our human eye can reach many miles in vision, the Divine\neye should not be able to see all things at a glance, nor that, while\nyour soul can manage matters not here in Athens only, but in Egypt and\nSicily, the intelligence of the Divine Being (\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u0398\u03b5\u03bf\u1fe6) is\nnot able to exercise a comprehensive care at once over the whole and\neach individual In the same way therefore as by performing acts of\nkindness to men you come to learn those who are disposed to show\nkindness to you in return, and as by conferring with men on important\nmatters you know who are able to give sound advice on such matters, if\nwith this disposition you approach the gods, making trial of them if\nbelike they are willing to reveal to you any of those things which are\nnaturally unknown to men, then you will certainly learn by experience\nthat the Divine nature (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd) is of such a kind as to be\nable to see all things, and to hear all things, and to be everywhere\npresent, and to have a providential care of all things.\u201d\n\nSo concludes this interesting dialogue, and the sympathetic reporter\nin winding it up adds, \u201cThe tendency of such discourses appears to\nme plainly to induce men to abstain from unholy and unjust and foul\ndeeds, not only when they are seen of men, but also in a lonely\nwilderness, living constantly under the conviction that whatever men\ndo, and in whatever place, they can in nowise escape the eye of the\nOmniscient.\u201d\n\nLet us now make a few remarks on the theological argument, or the\nargument from design, here sketched {78} in such broad and masterly\nlines. It is an argument, when taken in the gross, and in its grand\noutline, so striking and so convincing, that it is only by confining\nthe eye to a few minute and unessential points that certain precise\nand puzzling minds have conceited themselves that they were able to\nblunt the edge of its force. One class of objectors, unfortunately not\nat all uncommon in recent times, have imagined that they have refuted\nPaley\u2019s famous argument from the watch found on a waste heath, by\nsaying that there is no analogy between a piece of human manufacture\nlike a watch, and a living growth like a plant or an animal. Very\ntrue, so far; a growth is a growth, and a manufacture is a\nmanufacture; the one possesses inherent divine vitality, the other no\nvitality at all; but what follows? Not that an animal and a plant have\nnothing in common, but only that they have not the principle of\nvitality in common; not that the animal may not be constructed on the\nsame principles of design and adaptation on which the watch is\nconstructed, but that the animal to the curious machinery has\nsomething superadded which we call life. The fact of the matter is,\nthat Dr. Paley\u2019s argument would hold equally good if the designing\nsoul that made the supposed watch, instead of being outside in the\nshape of a watch-maker, had been inside, as the principle of vitality\nis in a plant; then we should have called the watch a plant or an\nanimal, and the design would have spoken out from its structure as\nmanifestly as before. There is therefore no difference, so far as\ndesign and calculation are concerned, between a cunningly constituted\ngrowth and a curiously compacted machine. Another class of objectors\nare fond to tell us that things are not {79} what they are by virtue\nof any inherent calculated type, but by a combination of complex\nconditions and circumstances, which in the course of millions of\nmillions of ages work themselves happily into a consistent organism.\nThis is just Epicurus back again in his naked absurdity, almost indeed\nin the same senseless phraseology; as we may see, for instance, in the\nfollowing passage from the _Westminster Review_, on which in the\ncourse of my reading I accidentally stumbled:--\u201cThe positive method\nmakes very little account of marks of intelligence; in its wider view\nof phenomena it sees that these incidents are a minority, and _may\nrank as happy coincidences_; it absorbs them in the singular\nconception of LAW.\u201d Let us attempt to analyse this utterance. It\nis the boast of the Comtian philosophy to find intelligence in the\nworks of Auguste Comte, but not in the works of the Architect of the\nuniverse. Let that pass. In the next place it is indicated that it is\na narrow view of things which discovers DESIGN in creation; a larger\nview reveals LAW; and the few incidents that may seem to indicate\ndesign are perhaps better explained by the old Epicurean method of the\n\u201cfortuitous concourse of atoms.\u201d Never was a greater amount of\nincoherence crammed into a short sentence. The inference which Dr.\nPaley drew from his watch is not in the least affected by the\nnarrowness of the view which the inspection of a watch necessitates;\nnor would the striking evidence of a design in the structure of that\nlittle telescope the human eye, be diminished in the least by\nextending the view to the largest telescope ever made, or to the\nlargest human body in the watch-tower of which a human eye was ever\nplaced. The only legitimate consequence of {80} mounting from the\ncontemplation of an eye, merely as an eye, to its consideration as\npart of a large organism called the human body, would be to increase\nadmiration by the discovery that the little design of the instrument\nwas subservient to the large design of the body, as if, after admiring\na small chamber in a vast building, and praising the cunning of the\narchitect, we should walk through the whole suite of rooms and then\ndiscover some new beauty in the chamber having reference to the great\nwhole of which it was a part. But instead of this our author informs\nus that this wider view \u201cabsorbs the original feeling of design into\nthe singular conception of LAW.\u201d Applied to the supposed case of\nthe small chamber in the large palace, this is flat nonsense. For the\n\u201csingular conception of LAW,\u201d in this case, is just the large\nplan of the whole building, which, along with the small plan of each\npart, proceeded from the comprehensive intellect of the architect.\nWhat is LAW? The reasoning in the above passage implies that it is\nsomething contrary to design, something that absorbs it, nay more,\nsomething that reduces it to the category of a \u201chappy coincidence.\u201d\nBut Law is only a steady self-consistent method of operation, which\nexplains nothing; it is only a fact; and if in this method of\noperation there be manifest order and purpose of producing a reasoned\nand consistent result, the law then becomes a manifestation of design,\nas in the original application of the word to the work of a lawgiver,\na Solon or a Lycurgus whose laws certainly implied a calculated\npurpose of reform and re-organization; or, to take again the watch,\nthe law by which this tiny worker goes, is only the single word which,\ndescribes that {81} ordered complex of calculated movements which the\ndesign of the maker puts into play, for the purpose of marking the\nregular lapse of time. The discovery of a great law, therefore, in an\nordered and calculated system of things, such as the world, may\nenlarge the field in which design is exhibited, but, so far from\nabsorbing, can only tend to make that design more prominent. So much\nfor Comte. But what shall we say of Darwin? If that original and\ningenious investigator of nature really does mean to say that there\nare no original types of things in the Divine mind (I use Platonic\nlanguage purposely, because it is the only language that satisfies the\ndemands of the case), and that a rose became a lily, or a lily a rose,\nby some external power called \u201cnatural selection,\u201d--I reply that I\nshall believe this when I see it; that a modifying influence is one\nthing, and a plastic force another; and that, as an able Hegelian\nphilosopher remarks,[81.1] a selection producing not a random but a\nreasonable result always implies some principle of selection, and a\nselecting agency--that is, the Socratic designing Intellect.\n\nBut there are greater names than those of Comte and Darwin, who have\nbeen quoted as oracular denouncers of all teleology--two of the\ngreatest indeed of all modern names. Bacon and Goethe. The dictum of\nthe great father of modern physical science, that teleology is a\nbarren virgin, has been often repeated. Now, as Bacon was a pious man,\nat least a religious philosopher, he certainly cannot have meant\nAtheism by this; what then did he mean? {82} This question will be\nbest answered by considering what Bacon\u2019s attitude as a philosopher\nwas. He was not, like Aristotle, a calm judicial speculator, making a\ntabulated register of all knowledge; he was rather like Martin Luther,\na man of war; and as the ecclesiastical reformer\u2019s life and doctrine\nderive all their significance from the abuses of the Papacy which they\noverthrew, so Bacon\u2019s position as a polemical thinker is to be\ninterpreted only with reference to the school of thinking which he\nattacked. That school was a school fruitful in theories, discussions,\nand sounding generalities of all kinds, which afforded ample exercise\nto intellectual athletes, but produced no practical result. To put an\nend to this vague and unprofitable talk, the British Bacon, with the\nsame practical instinct which guided the Attic Socrates, though in an\nopposite direction, set himself to establish a scientific method, a\nmethod specially calculated by the interrogation of nature to\nascertain facts, and from the careful comparison of facts to educe\nlaws. With these investigations into elementary scientific facts the\ngeneral philosophical principle of final causes had nothing directly\nto do; nay, it might even act perniciously in an age which had not yet\nlearned the art of careful experiment by accustoming men in an\nindolent sort of way to spin ingenious theories about the final causes\nof certain arrangements in the universe, before they had taken pains\nto ascertain what these arrangements actually were. And when we\nconsider how vast a machine the Cosmos is, and how great the ignorance\nof us curious emmets who set ourselves to interpret its hieroglyphics,\nand to spell its scripture, it will be obvious that a warning against\nthe ready luxury of speculating on final {83} causes was one of the\nmost necessary utterances that might come from the mouth of a reformer\nof scientific method. However far men may rise through the long\ngradation of secondary causes up to the First Cause, and by the slow\nsteps of progress which we call means to a final result, the\npreliminary question of course always is, _What are the facts?_ and\ntill these be accurately ascertained Bacon was fully justified in\nsaying that speculation about final causes is a barren virgin and\nproduces no offspring. But this wise abstinence from assigning final\ncauses at any particular stage of physical research is a quite\ndifferent thing from saying absolutely that there are no marks of\ndesign in the universe, and that those most obvious things which from\nSocrates downwards have been generally esteemed such, may in the\nphraseology of a higher philosophy \u201crank as happy coincidences.\u201d\nThe humble admiration of final causes in the world by the intelligent\nworshipper is one thing, the hasty interpretation of them by every\nforward religionist is another thing. The works of God are not to be\nexpounded, nor His ends and aims descanted on by every talker who may\ndiscourse with fluent propriety on the works of a human toy-maker like\nhimself. Such we may feel confidently was Bacon\u2019s point of view in\nreference to teleological questions. As for Goethe, who was a\nscientific investigator of scarcely less note than a poet, his remark\nto Eckermann on this subject shows that his point of view was exactly\nthe same. Not WHY, or FOR WHAT PURPOSE, or WITH WHAT OBJECT, he\nsays, is the way of putting the question by which science may be\nprofited; the true scientific question is always HOW. Of this there\ncan be no doubt, \u201c_Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere {84}\ncausas!_\u201d the physical inquirer is primarily concerned to know--_how\ndid this come about?_ by what curiously concatenated series of\noperations, starting from a certain point beyond which we cannot rise,\nare certain results produced? Answer this and science is satisfied;\nbut in being so satisfied it proves itself to be a thing of secondary\nand ancillary significance, resting, like the mathematician\u2019s\ndemonstrations, on principles which it belongs to a superior science\nto evolve. The whole doctrine of causes, efficient as well as final,\nbelongs to philosophy, to that grand doctrine of fundamental realities\nwhich dictates to mere science both its starting-point and its goal.\nBut not even in this view is it altogether correct to say that the\nconsideration of design has nothing to do with purely scientific\ninvestigations, and by the purely scientific man had better be\nignored. All we can say is, that it is better that it should be\nignored in certain cases than falsely presumed. But in a world where\neverything is under the government of Law, which is merely the\nexpression of reason and the manifestation of design, nothing could be\nmore Arbitrary and more perverse than the systematic exclusion of\nfinal causes from the philosophy of nature. So far from this, it is\ncertain there can be no philosophy of nature without them; if indeed\natheism can be called a philosophy, and in this nineteenth century,\nMoses and Plato and the Apostle Paul may be cast from their throne to\nmake way for a resuscitated Greek Epicurus in the person of a\nconceited French dogmatist! We shall therefore conclude, in accordance\nwith the teaching of Socrates, that an open eye for final causes not\nonly belongs to wisdom, but may often advance science, when proceeding\n{85} cautiously upon the due observation and connexion of facts;\ninasmuch as, in the words of an able metaphysician, \u201cthis universe\nis not an accidental cavity in which an accidental dust has been\naccidentally swept into heaps for the accidental evolution of the\nmajestic spectacle of organic and inorganic life. That majestic\nspectacle is a spectacle as plainly for the eye of reason as any\ndiagram of the mathematician. That majestic spectacle could have been\nconstructed, was constructed, only in reason, for reason, and by\nreason; and therefore everywhere, from the smallest particle, to the\nlargest system, moulded and modelled and inhabited by DESIGN.\u201d[85.1]\n\nThe theological convictions of Socrates being so strong and so\ndecided, it followed as a necessary consequence, in a person of so\npractical a character, that he should be a pious man, and that he\nshould practise those rites and services by which the dependent\nposition of man towards the gods is most naturally and effectively\nexpressed. If man, as was taught in the above extract, is the only\nanimal capable of religion, then the worship of the Supreme\nIntelligence becomes the peculiar sign, privilege, and glory of his\nhumanity. An irreligious man, a speculative or practical atheist, is\nas a sovereign who voluntarily takes off his crown and declares\nhimself unworthy to reign. Religious worship, therefore, being an act\nwhich a man is specially bound to perform in virtue of his humanity,\nneither Socrates nor any other pious heathen thinker could have any\ndoubt as to the peculiar forms and ceremonies that ought to constitute\nthis act. For all the heathens,--certainly {86} all Greeks and\nRomans,--held that religion was an essential function of the State,\nthat Church and State, as we phrase it, are one and inseparable,\nconsequently that every good subject owed allegiance to the religious\ntraditions and observances of his countrymen, just as he did to the\ncivil laws.[86.1] The gods were to be worshipped by every good citizen\nin every state,--\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u1ff3 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2,--or, as we would say, according to the\nlaw of the land; and as the religions of Greece and Rome were not\nfenced with bristling dogmas in the shape of what we call a {87} Creed\nand Church Articles, but floated quite freely in the region of\nreverential tradition, while, at the same time, in those days, no man\never dreamed of haying a religion for himself any more than of having\na civil government for himself, the conformity even of great thinkers\nto the popular faith was not naturally accompanied by any taint of\nthat species of insincerity which has so often attached to the\nsubscription of modern articles of belief. The right {88} of private\njudgment was exercised by the Greeks only in the domain of\nphilosophical speculation; for teaching the results of these\nspeculations they established schools; but the idea of protesting and\ndissenting and making a private business of religion, for the\nmaintenance of certain ceremonies, forms of church-government, or\nfavourite doctrines, could never have occurred to them. Neither are we\nto think it strange if, even as a matter of speculation, minds of\ngreat original power, like that of Socrates, should feel no\nintellectual repugnance to the main principles of a polytheistic\nfaith. There is nothing fundamentally absurd in Polytheism, provided\nonly a wise superintendent Providence be established somewhere to\noverrule the democratic assembly of subordinate gods; and this the\nGreeks had prominently in the person of Zeus.[88.1] The other gods,\nlike the angels in the Christian theology, however much their power\nmight be exaggerated by the reverence of particular localities, were\nin the comprehensive survey of a philosophic mind only the ministers\nof his supreme will, working harmoniously along with him in the\nsustainment of the divine fabric of the universe. With this view of\nPolytheism, pious-minded men such as Socrates, Xenophon, and Plutarch\ncould be perfectly satisfied; and the extravagant and immoral stories\nabout the gods, which excited the bile of Xenophanes and Plato, needed\nnot necessarily to give them any offence. For why? these stories were\n{89} matter of popular belief, not of intellectual decision or of\nsacerdotal dictation. A great national poet, like Pindar, might\nexplain, or explain away, in the public assembly of the Greeks, any\nlegends that appeared to him to contain matter unworthy of his lofty\nconception of the gods. So of course might a philosopher like\nSocrates. The peasants round Athens believed that the Wind Boreas came\ndown in human form, and carried off the nymph Oreithyia from the banks\nof the Ilissus; this might or might not be true; Socrates certainly\nwas not bound te believe it; and, as he himself tells us in the\nPh\u00e6drus, he was too busy with more important matters to trouble\nhimself with inquiring into the truth or falsehood of sacred legends\nin a country where every fountain had its peculiar worship, and every\nriver its divine genealogy. This easy dealing with questions about\nlegends, however, did not in the least imply any want of sincerity in\nthe attitude of doubting thinkers towards the main articles of the\nPolytheistic creed; on the contrary, the more pliable the legend the\nless danger was there of its standing in the way of an honest\nacceptance of the broad fundamental points of the general creed; and\nit is an altogether gratuitous supposition in a late distinguished\nwriter[89.1] to suppose that when Socrates at his death gave as a\ndying injunction to his friends to sacrifice a cock, which he had\nvowed, to \u00c6sculapius, he did this merely from the effect of habit,\nand that he really did not believe in the existence of the god whom\nthe injunction immediately concerned. While the general evidence of\nthe adherence of Socrates both {90} in theory and practice to the\npopular creed is so strong, we have no right in any particular\ninstance to set him down as insincere. Of his general sincerity on\nthese matters there certainly can be no doubt. It is set forth\ndistinctly in more than one dialogue of Xenophon, and harmonizes\nexactly with all that we read in Plato. The philosopher used the\ncommon kinds of divination practised by his countrymen, and gave\nspecial directions as to the subjects on which a wise man should\nconsult the gods, and on which he should seek for direction from them\nrather than from his own reason. We have special testimony to the fact\nthat on one occasion (see above, page 11) he, after a long period\nof pious meditation, offered up a prayer to the Sun; and one of the\nPlatonic dialogues concludes with a prayer of Socrates in the\nfollowing curt and significant style:--\n\n\u201cO dear Pan, and ye other gods who frequent this spot, grant me, in\nthe first place, to be good within; and as for outward circumstances,\nmay they be such as harmonize well with my inward capacities. Grant me\never to esteem the wise man as the alone wealthy man; and as for gold,\nmay I possess as much of it as a man of moderate desires may know to\nuse wisely.\u201d\n\nSo much for the theological belief and unaffected piety of this great\nman. How intimately he held Religion and Morality to be bound together\nwill best appear from the following dialogue with the Sophist Hippias,\non the foundation of natural right and positive law. We give it at\nlength, as it has a direct bearing on some fundamental principles of\ngeneral jurisprudence which have been largely debated in this country,\nfrom Locke down to Bentham and Mill.\n\n\u201cIs it not strange, Hippias, said Socrates, that {91} when a man\nwishes to have his son taught shoemaking or carpentry or any trade, he\nhas no difficulty in finding a master to whom he may send him for\ninstruction? nay, I have even heard that there are training masters\nwho will teach a horse or an ox to do what they ought to do. But if I\nwish for myself or my son or my servant, to know the principles of\nwhat is right and just, I look in vain for any source whence I might\nget instruction in these important matters. There you are, said\nHippias (who had just returned to Athens after a long absence)--there\nyou are saying exactly the same things that you were saying when I\nleft you! Very true, said Socrates, and not only do I say the same\nthings always, but always about the same things, while you, I presume,\non account of your multiform knowledge, on no occasion require to\nrepeat any old truths. Well, I readily confess that I always prefer,\nwhen I can, to bring out something new. Do you then mean to say that\neven when you know a thing thoroughly, and have occasion to speak\nabout it frequently, you can always continue to say something new? as,\nfor example, if any one were to ask you with how many letters to spell\nSocrates, would you give one reply to-day and another to-morrow? or\nagain, if he should ask if twice five are ten, or any other question\nof arithmetic, would you give different answers at different times?\nWith regard to matters of that kind, O Socrates, there can be no\nvariation; but with regard to what is JUST and RIGHT a man may\nconstantly make new discoveries, as I think I am in a condition to say\nsomething on that subject today, to which neither you nor any man in\nAthens could put in a demurrer. Now, by Hera! said {92} Socrates, if\nyou have really discovered anything important in this province, any\ncharm that might save a jury from the pain of giving a divided\nverdict, or good citizens from the necessity of brawling and wrangling\nwith one another, or mighty States from ruining each other by wars,\nyou have made a discovery indeed for which I envy you--and I really do\nnot know how I can let you quit me at present till I have drawn from\nyou the secret of this discovery. That you shall not do, by Jove! said\nthe Sophist, before you first tell me what your own views are on the\nsubject of RIGHT; for this is an old trick of yours, by captious\nquestions to worm answers out of other people, and laugh at them when\nthey are made to contradict themselves, while you refuse to stand\nquestion, or pronounce a definite opinion on any point. How can you\nsay this, O Hippias, when you perceive that I am continually employed\nin doing nothing but bringing to light my notions on right and wrong?\nIn what discourse did you bring this to light, O Socrates? If not in a\nset discourse, replied the philosopher, certainly by actions; or do\nyou not think that a deed is a much more effective way of declaring a\nman\u2019s moral principles than a word? More effective unquestionably;\nfor of those who say what is just many do what is unjust; but if a\nman\u2019s actions are just there is no injustice in him. Well then,\nHippias, I ask you, did you ever know me either bearing false witness\nor playing the informer, or exciting discontent among the people; or\ndoing any other wrong action? Certainly not. But is not abstaining\nfrom what is wrong the definition of what is right? There you are\nagain! said Hippias; I catch you in the act; you are {93} wriggling\ncunningly out of the position, and instead of telling me what just men\ndo, you tell me what they don\u2019t do. I did so because I honestly\nthought that to abstain from all unjust deeds was a sufficient proof\nof the existence of justice in the breast of the actor. But if a\nnegative answer does not satisfy you, then take this--I say that Right\nis conformity to the laws (\u03c4\u1f78 \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9). Do you then\nliterally mean to say that Right and Law are identical? I do. Well,\nthen, I must tell you, in the first place, that I do not understand\nwhat you mean by Law and Right. You know the laws of the State, I\npresume? Of course. What then are the laws of the State? The laws of\nthe State, said he, are all the enactments which the people have made\nwhen they have agreed among themselves as to what things ought to be\ndone and what things ought not to be done. Then, said Socrates, that\nperson would act according to law who obeyed those enactments, and he\nwould be a lawless person who transgressed them? Unquestionably. Then\nI presume the man who did according to law would act according to\nrights while the man who transgressed the law would do wrong? Of\ncourse. Then you admit that the man who observes law, and the just\nman, or the man who acts according to right, are identical, and the\ntransgressor of law and the unjust man in the same way? This sounds\nvery well, said Hippias; but how can rectitude, or right, be measured\nby the standard of laws which the very persons who make them are often\nthe first to repudiate,--enacting the exact contrary? That is not so\nvery strange, said Socrates, for the same parties who declare war\nto-day may {94} make peace to-morrow. Of course they may, he replied.\nWell, then, I do not comprehend with what distinction you maintain\nthat, whereas persons who observe the rights of war to-day and the\nrights of peace to-morrow are not charged with inconsistency, persons\nobeying any other laws to-day which may be reversed to-morrow are\nchargeable with unsettling the principles of right; or do you really\nmean to stand up as a universal peacemonger, and to say that those who\nserve their country well in war are guilty of a crime? Far from it,\nsaid he. Right, said Socrates; for obedience to the laws is really in\nevery good citizen the one thing needful; and Lycurgus, the famous\nSpartan, would have been not a whit better than other legislators had\nhe not by his institutions worked into the very blood of the people a\nhabit of obedience to the laws; and is it not plain that in all States\nthose governors are universally esteemed the best who know how best to\nmake their laws obeyed, and that the State where the habit of\nobedience is most confirmed is always the most prosperous in peace and\nthe most invincible in war? Nay more, is not concord universally\npraised as the greatest good of States, and do not our venerable\nsenators and our best leaders of the people continually exhort men to\nthis virtue? and is it not a fact that in every Greek State there is a\nspecial oath taken by the citizens that they will cultivate concord,\nand above all things shun strife and sedition among themselves? Now I\ndo not conceive that in the prominence thus given to concord it was\nheld forth as desirable that all the citizens should be of the same\nmind with regard to choruses or flute-players or poets and their\nperformances, but what was intended is that the citizens {95} should\nabove all things obey the laws: for so long as these are generally\nacknowledged, States will be strong and prosperous, but without\nconcord neither house nor family can stand. Each individual also of a\ncommunity can thrive only in this way; the man who obeys the laws will\nalways incur less loss and gain more honour than the lawless man; and\nin the courts, having the law on his side, he will more readily gain\nhis case. And to whom, I ask, would you intrust your property, or your\nson, or your wife, preferably to the man who fears to violate the\nlaws? in whom will the public authorities more readily confide? From\nwhom more than from the observer of the laws may parents or relations,\nor friends or citizens or guests, reasonably expect to receive their\ndue? to whom would enemies rather commit the negotiation of truces and\ntreaties? with whom preferably would any State wish to form an\nalliance? to whom would his allies with greater security intrust the\ndefence of any position, or the command of any detachment? from whom\nwould a benefactor sooner expect to receive a grateful return for the\nbenefit conferred? whom would a man sooner choose for his friend, and\nmore wisely shun as an enemy? In every situation of life the man who\nrespects law is the person whom one would be most benefited by having\nfor his friend, and most damaged by having for his enemy; and, on\nthese grounds, I consider myself justified in concluding generally, O\nHippias, that the man who obeys the law, and the just man, or the man\nwho does the right, is one and the same character; and if you have any\nobjections to this doctrine, I should like much to hear them. By Jove!\nsaid Hippias, I think I am not able to {96} state any valid objections\nto what you have said! Tell me, O Hippias, did you ever hear of what\nwe might call UNWRITTEN LAWS? Yes; those laws I presume you mean\nwhich are the same in all countries. Can we say, then, do you imagine,\nthat men made such laws? How could that be? men could neither come\ntogether for such a purpose, nor, if they did, could they ever agree.\nWho, then, do you think laid down these laws? In my opinion, the gods;\nfor amongst all men the universal instinct is to acknowledge the gods.\nReverence to parents, I presume, falls under the same category--for\nthis is a universal practice. I agree. Then shall we say that the gods\nare also the authors of the law forbidding sexual intercourse between\nparents and their offspring? No; I cannot call this a law coming\ndirectly from the gods. Why not? Because I see certain, men\ntransgressing this law; it is not universal. But the transgression of\na law does not make it less a law; men break many laws; but in the\ncase of the divine laws a penalty waits on the transgressor which it\nis impossible to escape, as men may, and not seldom do, escape the\nconsequences of violated human laws, whether by persistently\nundermining or violently overriding them. But what penalty, Socrates,\nI should like to know, do parents and children incur who practise\nincestuous intercourse? The greatest of all penalties, the begetting\nof children in a bad way. But how bad? for being good themselves, that\nis in good health and of a good stock, what comes from good must of\nnecessity be good. But you forget, rejoined Socrates, that in the\nprocreation of children we must consider not only the original\ngoodness of the stock, but also {97} that the bodies of both\nindividuals concerned in the act should be in their prime; or do you\nperhaps imagine that from unripe bodies, or bodies sinking into decay,\nan equally vigorous and healthy seed can flow, as from those which are\nin their best condition? Certainly not, said Hippias. Then it is\nplain, said Socrates, that the offspring of such intercourse would not\nbe procreated under favourable natural conditions, and according to\nthe unwritten law of nature are for this reason bad and wrong. Take\nnow another instance: ingratitude, I presume, you will grant is always\nand everywhere wrong, while to repay kindness by kindness is\neverywhere an act in harmony with law. Certainly; but this law also is\nfrequently transgressed. Yes; and the transgression brings with it its\nown punishment, in that the violators of this law are at once deprived\nof good friends, and forced to cultivate the goodwill of those who\nthey know must hate them;--for are not those who confer benefits on\ntheir friends good friends, and do not those who never return\nobligations to such friends, make themselves hated by them, while, at\nthe same time, on account of the benefits which may accrue from such\nconnexion, they are obliged to go on courting those very persons by\nwhom they are hated? Now, by Jove, said Hippias, I must confess that\nhere I do see plain traces of a divine law; for that laws should bring\nalong with them their own penalty when broken, is a most rare device,\nto which no mere human legislator has ever yet been able to attain.\nWell then, Hippias, do you think that the gods, when they make laws,\nmake them in accordance with right, or with what is contrary to right?\nNot with what is contrary, assuredly; {98} for if laws are to be made\nin accordance with absolute right, the gods are the only powers that\ncan make them perfectly. And so, Hippias, to finish our long\ndiscourse, we conclude that WITH THE GODS LAW AND RIGHT ARE\nIDENTICAL.\u201d\n\nNow, without maintaining the perfect propriety or sufficiency of all\nthe examples put forward in this argument, the general principles of\nit state the fundamental axioms of moral philosophy in a way which\nmight have saved a certain modern school of ethical writers volumes of\ningenious sophistry, if they had but possessed the natural amount of\nreverence and knowledge which would have enabled them to appreciate\nwhat was good and true in the discourses of the great fathers of their\nown science. For the unwritten laws whose authority the Athenian\nevangelist here so eloquently asserts, in goodly harmony with the\nnoble Hebrew prophet (Jeremiah xxxi. 33) before him, and the heroic\napostle of the Gentiles (Romans ii. 15) four centuries and a half\nlater, are just the natural and necessary fruit of those innate human\nactions and divinely implanted instincts in the region of emotion and\nvolition, which Locke, in an evil day for British philosophy, thought\nit incumbent on him to deny, and by the denial of which a whole school\nof meagre moralists, from Hume to John Stuart Mill, have either\ndragged themselves ingloriously in the mire, or entangled themselves\nin a tissue of the sorriest sophistries. In this dialogue also we see\nhow ably the common sense of the great logical missionary of Greece\nfought its way through that most inconclusive argument against the\nimmutability of moral distinctions derived from the strange and\nabnormal habits of certain savage tribes. {99} A law is not the less a\nlaw, replied Socrates to the sophistical Hippias, because it may be\nsometimes or frequently transgressed; and a divine instinct is not the\nless divine because there are found false instincts and morbid\nsensibilities in individual men, or even in whole tribes. The type of\nany race of animals is not to be taken from monsters, nor is the law\nof the variations of the magnetic needle near ferruginous rocks or in\nan iron vessel to be paraded as a proof that there is no such thing as\nmagnetic polarity. According to the argument of Socrates, as Aristotle\nalso teaches, the aberrations from the norm of human morality in\ncertain persons or tribes, which so confounded Locke, are no more to\nbe held as arguments against the eternity of innate moral distinctions\nthan the existence of sporadic disease or degenerated types of body\ncan be considered as disproving the fact of health, or the braying of\nan incidental ass, or even a troop of asses, can be taken as a\nrefutation of one of Beethoven\u2019s symphonies.\n\nOn the political opinions and conduct of Socrates a very few words\nwill suffice. We have seen above (p. 14) that, like the apostle\nPaul, and the preachers of the gospel generally, he kept himself out\nof all political entanglement; nevertheless as a notable and prominent\ncitizen in what, notwithstanding its great celebrity, we cannot but\ncall a small democratic State, he could not avoid occasionally talking\non subjects of public interest, and giving his opinion freely on the\nconduct of public men. To have done otherwise indeed would have been\nto have imposed silence on himself in regard to not a few matters\nwhich belonged as much to his moral mission as anything that concerned\nthe conduct of private {100} individuals; it would have been also to\nincur the charge of apathy, indifference and cowardice, than which\nnothing could have been more hurtful to his influence as a moral\nteacher. Accordingly, in the book of Xenophon there are not wanting\nindications of his political tendencies, which we shall here attempt\nsummarily to state.\n\nHis fundamental position in regard to all political duties was, as we\nmay have gathered from the conversation with Hippias, the supreme\nobligation on every good citizen to obey the existing laws. In this\nsacred, and sometimes, one might feel inclined to think, over\nscrupulous reverence for law, he agrees with the apostle Paul, but\nruns directly counter to the received maxims of all democracy, both\nancient and modern; for reverence is not an emotion which democracy\ncherishes; and an impassioned majority is apt to consider every law a\nusurpation, which applies a drag to its impetuousness or a bridle to\nits wilfulness.\n\nWhether he was in heart a republican after the Attic type,\nlike Aristotle, or, like his illustrious disciples Plato and\nXenophon, cherished a reactionary partiality for the Spartan or\nmonarchico-aristocratic form of government, is difficult to say.\nCertainly in the _Memorabilia_ there is nothing that savours of an\nadmiration of absolutism, or a blind reverence for Sparta; and though\nthere was in his time a current notion--arising out of recent\npolitical misfortunes--that the Athenian character had degenerated, we\nfind him, in a remarkable conversation with young Pericles, rather\ndisposed to vindicate than to exaggerate the faults of his democratic\nfellow-citizens. At the same time, it is quite certain that as a\nphilosopher, and a man free to look at {101} public affairs from an\nimpartial position, he did not approve of certain principles fondly\ncherished in the practice of the democracy of which he was a member.\nIf therefore in his heart he wished a democracy at all, he must have\nwished it, as Aristotle also did, under those checks, and with that\ntempering admixture of the aristocratic element which would constitute\nit what Aristotle calls a \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1, and what we should call a\nmoderate republic, or a popular government not founded on mere liberty\nand equality, and not subject to the overbearing sway of a mere\nnumerical majority. For in the existing democracy of Athens we find\nhim attributing the military mishaps of his countrymen to the\ncircumstance that their officers had no professional training, and the\ngenerals of the army were in fact for the most part extemporized.[101.1]\nThis was no doubt a very vulnerable point of the democracy; for we\nfind Philip of Macedon in the next century telling the Athenians\nsarcastically that they were surely a very wonderful people, inasmuch\nas they found ten generals to elect every year, whereas he in his\nwhole life had been able to find only one, Parmenio. And in the same\nspirit the pungent father of the Cynics had told them, after a general\nelection, that they had better go and vote publicly that asses were\nhorses, which would certainly be more reasonable than to vote that\ncertain persons whom they had just stamped with the title of generals\nwere soldiers. As little could Socrates, as a thinking man, and a man\nof lofty self-reliance, with a more than common amount {102} of moral\ncourage, approve either of the democratic device of choosing important\npublic officers by the blind chance of the ballot, or of that\nunreasoned usage of all democracies, that a mixed multitude, huddled\ninto the vote, under the influence of sudden passion or subtle\nintrigue, shall, by a mere numerical majority, decide on the most\ncritical questions, which require comprehensive survey, cool decision,\nand impartial judgment. Again, as a man of truth, he had a special\nobjection to the method of governing in democracies by pandering to\nthe prejudices of the people rather than by opposing them; and above\nall things he hated, and was constantly denouncing and exposing, that\nmeretricious and essentially hollow oratory which the man of the\npeople always must practise when the electors, on whose favour he is\ndependent, have their opinions dictated by local interests and\npersonal passions, rather than by large considerations of public right\nand the general good. Lastly, as a moralist, he knew that there is no\nbait more seductive to the human mind than the love of power; to this\nstrong passion democracy applies a constant and potent stimulus; and\nthus acts directly in bringing the worst and not the best men into\nsituations of public influence and trust; for good men are modest, and\nmore apt to feel the responsibilities than to covet the advantages of\npolitical power. Thus far Socrates was decidedly, if not\nanti-republican, at least anti-democratic; but we must bear in mind\nalso that he and, we may add, all the wise Greeks were equally or even\nmore opposed to the cold selfishness of a narrow oligarchy governing\nfor their own aggrandizement; and that, like every man with Hellenic\nblood in his veins, he had an instinctive hatred of {103} tyranny and\noppression in every shape; and proved this, as Xenophon informs us, in\nthe most decided way, by publicly bearding two of the thirty tyrants,\nand pursuing quietly his labours of love in their despite.\n\nThe prosecution and death of Socrates, which we must now sketch, is\none of the most interesting events in history,--useful also in a\nspecial degree as a warning to that large class of persons who are\ninclined to follow the multitude in all things, with unlimited faith\nin the motto VOX POPULI VOX DEI. Never did a people, in this case a\nparticularly shrewd and intelligent people, cased in the hard panoply\nof unreasoned tradition, under the distorting influence of prejudice,\nthe exaggerations of personal spite, and the smooth seductions of\npopular oratory, commit an act of more daring defiance to every\nprinciple of truth and justice. Happily we possess evidence of the\nmost distinct and indubitable description with regard both to the\nnature of the charges brought against the philosopher and the\ndelusions which blinded his judges. In reference to the first point,\nwe have the very words of the indictment, given in the same terms by\nboth Plato and Xenophon. With regard to the second point, wherein the\nreal key to his condemnation lies, we have an ancient comedy--the\nClouds of Aristophanes--in which the state of public feeling and\npopular prejudice in Athens in reference to the philosopher is brought\nas vividly before us as if it had been a matter of yesterday. In this\nplay--one of the wisest certainly, and one of the most humorous, that\never was written--Socrates is put forward as representing the\nSophists; and a picture is drawn of that class of persons, calculated\nto stir up a whole host {104} of indignant feelings, patriotic and\npersonal, against the philosopher. No doubt the whole affair, so far\nas Socrates was concerned, was a tissue of the grossest lies; but\nneither those whose business it is to make jokes for the public, nor\nthe public, who find their pleasure in these jokes, have ever\ndisplayed any very scrupulous care in sifting the materials of their\nmirth. A popular comedy on any event of the day is popular, not\nbecause it is true, but because it cleverly tricks out that view of\nthe matter which the multitude delights to think is true; it is the\nproper pabulum of popular prejudice; and as such there can be no doubt\nthat the gross caricature of Socrates represented in Athens 423 B.C.\nwith great applause, was one of the principal feeders of those local\nfeelings and prejudices by which, twenty-three years afterwards, the\ngreat preacher of righteousness was condemned. For we must bear in\nmind that Socrates was not condemned by a bench of cool lawyers, such\nas decide cases of heresy in the English Church, but by a jury or\npopular assembly, most of whom had already prejudged the case; and\ntrial by jury, as large experience in this country has shown, may as\nreadily be made the willing instrument of popular passion, as the\nstrong bulwark against autocratic or oligarchic oppression. And all\nthese sources of evidence bring us to a conclusion which agrees\nexactly with what might _a priori_ have been predicated from what we\nknow both of the special proclivities of the Athenian people and the\ngeneral tendencies of human beings, when acting in masses, under the\nspur of great political or religious excitement.\n\nTo state the matter more articulately, the view of the philosopher\u2019s\nguilt taken by his accusers and the {105} majority of the jury who\ncondemned him, may be comprised under the following five points:--\n\n(1.) Socrates was one of the Sophists; and to the superficial\nundistinguishing eye of the general public of Athens, like any other\npublic, constitutionally impatient of distinctions, it was as natural\nto confound the philosopher with his antagonists as it was to Tacitus\nand other intelligent Romans to confound the first Christians with\ntheir greatest enemies, the Jews. Whatever odium therefore in public\nestimation attached to the profession and principles of a Sophist,\nnecessarily attached to Socrates, as one of the most prominent of the\nclass. He was accordingly assumed to be guilty under the following\nheads of offence, all of which were truly applicable to the majority\nof the class of men with whom he was identified.\n\n(2.) The Sophists generally did not believe in the gods of their\ncountry, and, more than that, they were sceptical, and even\natheistical, in their whole tone and attitude.\n\n(3.) They did not believe in the immutability of moral distinctions,\nteaching that all morality is based on positive law, custom, fashion,\nassociation, or habit.\n\n(4.) And their profession of these principles was the more dangerous,\nthat it was supported by a specious and plausible art of logic and\nrhetoric, of which the professed object was, with an utter disregard\nof truth, to make the worse appear the better reason.\n\n(5.) The natural and actual effect of this teaching was to corrupt the\nyouth and undermine both domestic and civic morality.\n\n{106}\n\nThis is the full view of the case, as one may gather it from the whole\npleadings; but more definitely and succinctly the actual indictment is\ngiven by Xenophon in this single sentence:--\u201cSOCRATES BEHAVES\nWRONGFULLY IN NOT ACKNOWLEDGING THOSE AS GODS WHOM THE STATE HOLDS TO\nBE GODS, AND IN INTRODUCING NEW GODS OF HIS OWN; HE ACTS WRONGFULLY\nALSO IN CORRUPTING THE YOUTH.\u201d\n\nNow the first question which arises on this charge is, whether such a\nprosecution, according to the law of Athens, was justifiable at all;\nand on this head we are happy to agree with the view of the case so\nably stated by Professor Zeller in his excellent work on the\nPhilosophy of the Greeks. The prosecution, we think, was not\njustifiable; that is, even though the points had been proven, there\nwas no indictable offence. For though unquestionably both by Hellenic\nand Roman law a public action lay in theory against all who did not\nacknowledge the gods of the country, and no man was entitled to\nentertain private gods without State authority; and though as a matter\nof fact several eminent persons, such as Anaxagoras and Diagoras, had\neven in the lifetime of Socrates been tried and banished for the\noffence of impiety, yet the spirit of toleration was now so large, and\nthe license everywhere assumed had been so great, that to condemn an\nhonest thinker to death for simple heterodoxy, in the year 399 B.C.,\nin Athens, was altogether inexcusable, and could be attributed only to\nintense personal spite on the part of his prosecutors, and to the\ncrassest prejudice on the part of the jury who tried him.\n\nBut the case assumes a much more serious aspect, {107} when it stands\nproven in the most distinct terms that, even had the prosecution in\npoint of legal practice been justifiable, the defendant as a matter of\nfact was entirely innocent of all the charges in the indictment. Of\nthis ample evidence shines out in almost every page of the above\nsketch; and more may be found by whoso cares to seek in almost every\nchapter of Xenophon. There is no philosopher of antiquity in whom a\ncheerful piety, according to the traditions of his country, and a\nreasonable morality, were so happily combined. In this view he stands\nout in remarkable completeness when compared whether with Confucius in\nthe far east, or with Aristotle in his own country. He stands also as\na representative man in this respect above Plato, and incarnates fully\nboth the piety and the philosophy of Athens, just as Chalmers was the\nincarnation of the religion, the science, the fervour and the\npractical sagacity of Scotland. Plato, on the other hand, though a man\nof profound piety, as a transcendental speculator was too lofty in his\npoint of view to be able to reconcile himself to the familiar and\nsensuous theology of Homer; while Aristotle was defective altogether\nin the emotional part of his nature, and, like a true encyclop\u00e6dist,\nwas content to register the gods whom he had not the heart to worship.\nAs to the new gods whom Socrates was said to have introduced, this\ncharge could only have arisen from some gross popular blunder about\nthe \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd or genius by whom he used to assert his conduct was\noften guided. What this \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd really was we shall see by and\nby; but even had it been a real familiar spirit, as was crudely\nsupposed, there was nothing in the idea of such spiritual intercourse\ncontrary to the {108} orthodox conceptions of heathen piety. The third\ncharge against him of corrupting the youth, was merely an application\nof the charge of irreligion, with the obvious intention of rousing the\ntender apprehensions of Athenian fathers who believed in the stout old\nMarathonian sturdiness, and hated the subtle glibness of the rising\ngeneration; for in fact, like the late distinguished Baron Bunsen,\nSocrates was peculiarly the friend of young men, and specially zealous\nfor their good. The answer to such a charge was plain, and was similar\nto that which might have been made by the Methodists of the last\ncentury, when they were charged with leading away the people from the\nEstablished Church: If you, the Churchmen, had taken care of the\npeople in the remote corners of Cornwall and Wales, we certainly\nshould never have interfered. So Socrates might well ask his accusers,\nas we find in Plato\u2019s Apology he did: \u201c_If I corrupt the young\nmen, who improves them?_ It was simply because there was no person who\ncared to instruct them in the principles of right that there was room\nfor me to come forward as a teacher at all. Your accusation of me is a\nproof that you neglected your own work.\u201d Why then, we are now\nprepared to ask, was he condemned? The answer to this is unfortunately\nonly too obvious. The causes of his condemnation were five:--\n\n(1.) Because his freedom of speech as a preacher of righteousness had\nmade him not a few enemies in influential quarters. Though entirely\nfree from every taint of bitterness or ill-will, and even playfully\ntolerant to human weaknesses, the very reverse, as we have seen, of a\nmodern Calvin, the moment an argument was started he spared no party,\nwho, by {109} the application of the searching logical test, was found\nto be a dealer in hollow superficialities or pretentious shams; poets,\norators, and politicians equally were made to feel the keen edge of\nhis reproof. Against all and each of these he had spoken more truth\nthan they could easily bear; and of that dangerous seed he was now to\nreap the natural fruit. Truth, which was a jewel of great price to\nhim, was a nauseous drug to many; and the man who administered it\ncould not be looked on with friendly eyes. \u201c_Am I become your enemy\nbecause I tell you the truth?_\u201d was the question directed more than\nfour hundred years afterwards by the great apostle of the Gentiles to\nsome of his perverted churches. So it was also in the days of\nSocrates, and so it must ever be. Men are by nature not lovers of\ntruth, in the first place, but lovers of themselves, of their own\nwishes, of their own fancies, of their own belongings. To become\nlovers of the pure truth they must undergo a process of moral and\nintellectual regeneration--the new birth of oriental philosophy and of\nevangelical doctrine.\n\n(2.) Because the religious antipathies of an orthodox public (and the\nAthenians prided themselves specially on their religiousness) towards\na person accused of heterodoxy, scepticism, and atheism are so strong\nas readily to overbear any evidence that may be adduced to prove the\npersonal piety, and even the literal orthodoxy, of the accused party.\n\n(3.) Because in a democracy, where the judges, or, as we would say,\nthe jury, are a mixed multitude of ignorant and prejudiced people,\nsuch motives are apt to be particularly strong.\n\n(4.) Because Socrates, as a man of high principle, {110} and of a\nperhaps over-strained sense of honour, would not condescend to use any\nof those intrigues, tricks, and supple artifices which are often\napplied successfully to overcome the prejudices of an adverse jury.\nNay, his attitude seemed more that of a man willing to find in death a\nnoble opportunity for putting a seal upon the great work of his life.\nHe pleaded his own case, which no prudent man does who is anxious\nmerely to gain his case; and his speech is rather a proud assertion of\nhimself against his judges than a politic deprecation of their\ndispleasure.\n\n(5.) Because, no doubt, a certain excitement of the public mind\narising out of the troubles of the recent revolutionary government\nestablished by the Spartans, and the restoration of the democracy by\nThrasybulus, was favourable to the bringing of a charge against a\nperson belonging to a class generally suspected by the people, and one\nwho had unquestionably at times spoken his mind freely enough on the\ndefects, absurdities, and blunders of the local democracy. This\npolitical element may certainly have helped; but the charge against\nthe philosopher was not mainly--formally indeed not at all--political,\nas the pleadings both in Xenophon and Plato sufficiently show.\n\nTaking all these things together, remembering how many follies and\nferocities have everywhere been perpetrated in the name of religion,\nand impressed with the full force of what the poet says of the reward\nwont to be paid by the world to persistent speakers of truth--\n\n \u201cDie wenigen die von der Wahrheit was erkannt\n Und th\u00f6richt genug ihr volles Herz nicht wahrten\n Dem P\u00f6bel ihr Gef\u00fchl, ihr Schauen offenbarten\n Hat man von je gekreuzigt und verbrannt,\u201d--\n\n{111}\nsome persons may perhaps feel inclined to think with Mr. Grote that\n\u201cthe wonder rather is that the wise man was not prosecuted sooner.\nIt was only the extraordinary toleration of the Greek people that\nprevented this.\u201d There is a great amount of truth in this remark;\nbut the exercise of polytheistic toleration in the case of Socrates\nwas rendered more easy by the undoubted innocency of the accused, and\nthe host of friends whom his wisdom and goodness had created for him\nas his champions. Had Socrates really been as heterodox in Athenian\ntheology as Michael Servetus was in the theology of the Christian\nworld at the period when, in harmony with universal European law, he\nwas burnt by the Genevese Calvinists, we might then have drawn a\ncontrast between monotheistic intolerance and polytheistic toleration\nin two perfectly similar cases; but as matters really stand, while the\nexecution of Servetus was only a great legal and theological mistake,\nthe death of Socrates must be stamped by the impartial historian as a\ngreat social crime. It was equally against local law and human right,\na rude invasion of blind prejudice, overbearing insolence, and paltry\nspite against the holiest sanctities of human life.\n\nThe details of the death of Socrates, sketched with such graceful\npower and kindly simplicity by Plato in the concluding chapters of the\n_Ph\u00e6do_, are well known; but the present paper would seem imperfect\nwithout some glimpse of that last and most beautiful scene of the\nphilosopher\u2019s career. We shall therefore conclude with that extract;\nand to make the picture of his last days as complete as possible,\nintroduce it by an extract from Plato\u2019s _Apology_, in which the\ndignified self-reliance and serene courage of the sage {112} is\ndescribed with all that rich fulness and easy grace of which the\nwriter was so consummate a master:--\n\n\u201cI should have done what was decidedly wrong, O Athenians, if, when\nthe archons whom you elected ordered me, at Potid\u00e6a, at Amphipolis,\nand at Delium, to accept the post given me in the war, and stand where\nI was ordered to stand at the risk of death,--if then, I say, I had\nnot obeyed the command, and exposed my life willingly for the good of\nmy country; but when the order comes from a god--as I had the best\nreason to believe that a god did order me to spend my life in\nphilosophizing, and in proving myself and others, whether we were\nliving according to right reason,--if in such circumstances I should\nnow, from fear of death, or from any other motive, leave my post, and\nbecome a deserter, this were indeed a sin; and for such an offence any\none might justly bring me before this court on a charge of impiety,\nsaying that I had disobeyed the voice of the god by flinching from\ndeath, and conceiting myself to be wise when I was not wise. For to be\nafraid of death, O Athenians, is in fact nothing else than to seem to\nbe wise when a man is not wise: for it is to seem to have a knowledge\nof things which a man does not know. For no man really knows whether\ndeath may not be to mortal men of all blessings perhaps the greatest;\nand yet they do fear it, as if they knew that it is the greatest of\nevils. And how, I ask, can this be other than the most shameful folly\nto imagine that a man knows what he does not know? or perhaps do I\ndiffer from most other men in this, and if I am wiser at all than any\none, am I wiser in this, that, while not possessing any exact\nknowledge of the state of matters in Hades, I do not {113} imagine\nthat I possess such knowledge; but as to right and wrong, I know for\ncertain, that to disobey a better than myself whether man or god, is\nboth bad and base. On no account therefore will I ever fear and seek\nto avoid what may or may not be an evil, rather than that which I most\ncertainly know to be bad; in so much that if, on the present occasion,\nyou should be willing to acquit me, and refuse to listen to Anytus,\nwho maintained that I either should never have been brought before you\nat all, or you could not do otherwise than condemn me to death,\nbecause your sons, putting in practice the lessons of Socrates, must\nneeds go on without redemption to their ruin--if, notwithstanding this\ndeclaration of my prosecutor, you should still be unconvinced, and\nsay--O Socrates, for the present we discharge you, but on this\ncondition, that for the future you shall not go on philosophizing and\nproving, as you have hitherto done; and, if you are caught doing so,\nthen you shall die--if on these conditions you were now willing to\nacquit me, I should say to you, O Athenians, that, while I cherish all\nloyal respect and love for you, I choose to obey the gods rather than\nmen, and so long as I live and breathe I will never cease\nphilosophizing: and exhorting any of you with whom I may happen to\nconverse, and addressing him as I have been wont, thus,--O my\nexcellent fellow-citizen, the citizen of a State the most famous for\nwisdom and for resources, is it seemly in you to feel no shame if,\nwhile you are spending your strength in the accumulation of money, and\nin the acquisition of civic reputation, you bestow not the slightest\npains to have your soul as well furnished with intelligence as your\nlife is with prosperity? And if any man to {114} this question should\nreply, that, so far as he is concerned, he really does bestow as much\ncare on wisdom as on wealth, then I will not forthwith let him go, but\nwill proceed, as I was wont, to interrogate, and to prove, and to\nargue; and if, as the result of the discussion, he shall appear to me\nnot to possess virtue, but merely to say that he possesses it, I will\nthen go on to reprove him in that by his deeds he prefers what is base\nto what is noble, and foolishly sets the highest value upon that which\nhas the least worth. And in this wise I will speak to every man whom I\nshall converse with, be he citizen, or be he stranger, and the rather\nif he be a fellow-citizen to whom I am bound by nearer and more\nindissoluble ties. For this is precisely what I am commanded to do by\nthe god; and if the god did indeed give forth this command, then must\nI distinctly declare that no greater blessing could be to this city\nthan that, so long as I do live, I should live to execute the divine\ncommand. For what I do day after day treading your streets is simply\nthis, that, speaking to both young and old, I exhort them not to seek\nin the first place money or anything material, but to stretch every\nnerve that their soul may be as excellent as possible; for that virtue\nand all excellence grow not from gold, but rather that gold and all\nthings truly good, both in private and public life, grow to men from\nthe possession of virtue as the root of all good. If by preaching this\ndoctrine I corrupt the youth, let such teaching be declared corrupt:\nbut if any one asserts that I teach other doctrine than this, he is\ntalking unreason. Therefore, O Athenians, do as seemeth you good;\nlisten to Anytus, or listen to him not; acquit me or acquit me not, I\ncan do no otherwise than {115} I have done, though I should die a\nhundred times.\n\n(_At these words murmurs of dissent and disapprobation are heard from\nthe jury_.)\n\n\u201cBe not surprised, O Athenians, nor express displeasure at what I\nhave said; listen rather and hear, for you will be the better and not\nthe worse for anything that I have said, and I have some other things\nto say also of a nature to bring out similar expressions of your\ndissent; but hear me, I beseech you, with patience. This I must\nplainly tell you, that if you put me to death, being such an one as I\nhave described, and doing such things as I do, you will not hurt me so\nmuch as you will hurt yourselves; or, more properly speaking, no man\ncan hurt me, neither Anytus nor Meletus nor any one else; for it is\nnot in the nature of things that a better man should receive essential\nharm from a worse. No doubt a worse man may kill me, or banish me, or\nbrand me with statutable infamy--evils these the greatest possible in\nthe estimation of some, but not certainly in my conviction, who hold\nthe greatest infamy to be even that which this man has brought upon\nhimself, in that wrongfully he endeavours to take away the life of his\nfellow. I am not therefore, in making this present defence, pleading\nmy own cause so much as speaking in your behalf, O Athenians, lest ye\nshould be found sinning against the god in condemning a just man\nunjustly. For if you put me aside you will not easily find another\n(though it may excite a smile when I say so) who may be able or\nwilling to perform the same service for the public good; for even as a\nlarge and mettlesome, though from the size of its body somewhat slow,\nhorse requires {116} a goad to make it run, even so the god seems to\nhave attached me to you, that by spurring and goading, and exhorting\nand reproving you day after day with a pious persistency, I should\nrouse you to the performance of what your dignity requires. Such an\nhonest counsellor, and one who shall as faithfully apply when\nnecessary the profitable pain that belongs to the successful treatment\nof your malady, you may not so readily find again; for which reason I\nsay, fellow-citizens, hear me and spare my life; but if, as is natural\nenough, you take offence, and, like other sleepers, begin to kick and\nto butt at the man who rouses you from your lethargy, nothing is\neasier than killing me; and then when I am gone you will be allowed to\nsleep on in uninterrupted sloth, unless indeed the god shall be\npleased to send some other messenger of grace to pluck you from\ndestruction. And that I truly am such a person as I here profess to\nbe, a real messenger of the gods to you, you may gather from hence\nthat no mere human motive could have induced me now for so many years\nto have neglected my own affairs, and devoted myself to your good,\nlooking upon every man as my father or my brother, and exhorting him\nby every possible suasion to seek for virtue as the only good. And\nthis also I may say, that if in the exercise of this my vocation I had\nexacted any payment or received any pecuniary reward my accusers might\nhave had some ground for their charge; but as the case stands you\nperceive plainly that, while my enemies have brought forward every\npossible charge against me with the most shameless effrontery, to\nsubstantiate which they might imagine themselves in possession of some\n{117} shadow of proof, none of them has produced a single witness to\nthe effect that I ever either received or sought a wage of any kind\nfor the instructions which I imparted. But there is one witness which\nI can produce to rebut such a charge if it were made, a witness which\nwill not fail to silence even the bitterest of my accusers,--even that\npoverty in which I have lived and in which I shall die.\n\n\u201cSo much for the character of my teaching. But perhaps it may seem\nstrange to some one, that, while I go about the city giving counsel to\nevery man in this busy fashion, with all my fondness for business I\nhave not found my way into public life, nor come forward on this stage\nto advise you on public affairs. Now the cause of this is none other\nthan that which you have frequently heard me mention, namely, THAT\nSOMETHING DIVINE AND SUPERHUMAN to which Meletus in his address\nscoffingly alluded; for this is the sober truth, O ye judges, that\nfrom my boyhood I have on all important occasions been wont to hear a\nvoice which, whenever it speaks in reference to what I am about to do,\nalways warns me to refrain, but never urges me to perform.[117.1] This\nvoice it is, {118} and nothing else, which forbade me to meddle with\npublic affairs, and forbade me very wisely, as I can now clearly\nperceive, and with a most excellent result; for of this, O Athenians,\nbe assured, if I had essayed at an early period of my life to manage\nyour public business, I should without doubt have perished long ago,\nand done no good either to you or to {119} myself. And be not wroth\nwith me if in this I tell you the truth; the man does not exist who\nshall be able to save his life anywhere, if he shall set himself\nhonestly and persistently to oppose you or any other multitude of\npeople when you are violently bent on doing things unjust and\nunlawful; whosoever therefore would live on this earth as the champion\nof right and justice, if only for a little while, amongst men, must\nmake up his mind to do good as a private person, and forego all\nambition to serve the public in a political capacity.\u201d\n\nThis is not the tone certainly which any accused person anxious to\nsave his life in pleading before a democratic jury would have adopted,\nwhether at Athens or New York. By the majority of his judges, who came\npredisposed to condemn him, such language could only be interpreted as\nadding insult to injury. If he thinks himself too good to live amongst\nus, why, then, let him die! And in accordance with this sentiment a\nverdict was brought in--only by a small majority however--that he was\nguilty of the charge. This verdict, according to Athenian law, did not\nnecessarily determine the punishment; the accuser asked for death; but\nfrom the smallness of the majority there was every reason to believe\nthat a less punishment would have satisfied the jury, if only the\naccused had shown any willingness to accept it. But in the short\naddress which he made after the verdict of guilty had been given in,\nthough he professed himself willing to pay a fine of thirty min\u00e6,\nwhich his friends had guaranteed, for himself was too poor, yet he\nmade this declaration with such an air of calm superiority, and\naccompanied it with such a proud claim of reward {120} for great\npublic services as his proper civic due, instead of punishment for any\npublic offence, that his judges, being, as they were, made of the\ncommon human stuff, under the feelings of the moment could scarcely do\notherwise than take it as an insult, and so they passed sentence of\ndeath upon the philosopher for contumacy towards themselves, not less\nthan for blasphemy against the gods.\n\nThe fate of Socrates was now fixed; nor did he show any desire to have\nit altered. To such a strict observer of the laws, and a person to\nwhom his moral position before men was of infinitely more consequence\nthan his life, any attempt to escape from prison could have been\nsuggested only to provoke refusal; so he remained in ward thirty days,\ntill the sacred ship should return from the Delian festival, during\nthe absence of which Attic usage forbade the infliction of capital\npunishment on any citizen. Through all this period he is represented\nas preserving the same tone of cheerful seriousness and playful\ndignity which characterized him in his defence before the judges. He\ndiscoursed with his friends on the immortality of the soul; and the\nrecord of this conversation, no doubt, in the argumentative part\nlargely Platonized, but in the fundamental scheme substantially true,\nhas been preserved to the world in the well-known dialogue of the\n_Ph\u00e6do_; the closing chapters of which, exhibiting with a graceful\nand graphic simplicity, never surpassed, the last moments of the\nrevered teacher\u2019s mortal career, supply all that is further required\nto complete the present sketch:--\u201cWell, friends, we have been\ndiscoursing for this last hour on the immortality of the soul, and\nthere are many points about that matter {121} on which he were a bold\nman who should readily dogmatize; but one thing I seem to know full\ncertainly, that whosoever during his earthly life has flung sensual\npleasures behind him, and been studious to adorn his soul, not with\nconventional and adventitious trappings, but with its own proper\ndecoration, temperance and justice, and courage and freedom and\ntruth,--the person so prepared waits cheerfully to perform the journey\nto the unseen world at whatever period Fate may choose to call him.\nYou, Simmias, and Cebes, and the rest of you, my dear friends, will go\nthat road some day, when your hour comes: as for me, to use the phrase\nof the tragic poets, \u2018Destiny even now calls me,\u2019 and it is about\nthe hour that I should be going to the bath; for I think it better to\ntake a bath first before I drink the drug, so that the women may not\nhave the trouble to wash my body when I am gone.\n\n\u201cHere Crito interposed and said, Be it so! but have you no last\ncommands to give to these your friends or to me, in relation to your\nchildren, or any matter by attending to which we might do you a\npleasure? Nothing but what I am always saying, O Crito: if you will\nseriously attend to your own lives and characters, you will do what is\nmost pleasurable to me and mine, and to yourselves, even though you\nshould not be able to agree with me in all that we have been\ndiscoursing; but if you live at random, and neglect yourselves, and do\nnot strive to follow in the traces of a virtuous life, such as we have\nmarked out now, and in many former conversations, you will do no good\neither to me or to yourselves. Well then, said Crito, we will apply\nourselves with all our hearts to this matter; but in {122} what way do\nyou wish that we should bury you? Any way you like, said he, if you\ncan only get hold of me! then with a quiet smile, and looking round\nupon us, he said: I cannot persuade this good Crito that I who am now\ntalking to him, and marshalling the heads of my argument, am the\nveritable Socrates; but he persists in thinking Socrates is that body\nwhich he will see by and by stretched out on the floor, and he asks\nhow he is to bury me? but as to what I have been asserting with many\nwords, that after I have drunk the hemlock I shall be with you no\nlonger, but shall depart to some blessedness of the blest, this I seem\nto have spoken all in vain, so far as he is concerned. Only, for a\nlittle comfort to you, and to myself, I beseech you, dear friends,\ngive Crito security for me, and pledge yourself to the opposite effect\nof the pledge he gave in my behalf before the jury. For he stood\nguarantee that I should remain and wait the result of the trial; but\nfrom you I request that you give him security that, after I die, I\nshall not remain, but forthwith depart, that, in this way, my\nexcellent friend may suffer less grief, and when he sees my body\neither burnt or inhumated, may not grieve for me, as if I were\nsuffering maltreatment, nor say in reference to my body, that they are\neither laying out Socrates on a bier, or carrying him forth to the\nplace of the dead, or laying him in the ground. For be assured of\nthis, most excellent Crito, that to use words in an improper sense is\nnot only a bad thing in itself, but it generates a bad habit in the\nsoul. Be of good cheer therefore, and talk about burying my body, not\nburying me; and as to the manner, manage this business as it shall\nseem best to you, or as may be most in accordance with law and custom.\n\n{123}\n\n\u201cWith these words he rose and went into a side chamber for the bath,\nwith Crito following; but the rest of us he requested to remain.\nAccordingly we remained, conversing with one another on the subject of\nthe recent discourse, and considering sorrowfully our unhappy\ncondition, destined as we were to spend the rest of our days as\norphans deprived of a beloved father. Then after he had bathed, and\nhis children were brought to him--for he had two sons, one\nfull-grown,--and the women also came in--he spoke to them for some\ntime in the presence of Crito, and gave his last commands, and having\nsent them home, came back to us. And now it was near sunset, for he\nhad been a considerable time within; and he came and sat down, and\nafter that did not speak much; and then the officer of the Eleven came\nin and said to him, O Socrates, I shall not have to blame you as I am\nin the way of blaming others, because they reproach me for giving them\nthe draught--me, who have nothing to do with the offence, but who only\nexecute what I am commanded to do by the Archons. But you, as during\nthe whole time that you have been here, you showed a nobility and\ngentleness of disposition which I never knew in another, so now I am\nconvinced that you will accuse not me but those who are the real\nauthors of your death. Now therefore, for you know my message,\nfarewell! and endeavour to bear what must be borne with a light heart.\nAnd with this he wept, and turned and went out. And Socrates, looking\nafter him, said, Fare thou, too, well; and we will do even as you say.\nThen turning to us. What a kind-hearted fellow this is! During the\nwhole period of my abode here he would often come {124} up to me, like\nthe best of men, and now he weeps for me with such generous tears. But\ncome, let us do his bidding, and let some one bring in the drug, if it\nis rubbed down; if not, let the man grate it. But I think, said Crito,\nthat the sun is yet on the mountains, and is not set; and I have known\nothers in your condition who delayed the drinking of the draught till\nthe latest moment, and, even after the officer had made his\nintimation, continued eating and drinking and talking with their\nfriends, whom they desired to have beside them. Be not therefore in a\nhurry; there is abundance of time. Likely enough, said Socrates; and\nthey did wisely what they did, thinking that they would gain something\nthereby; but it were not seemly in me to follow their example, for I\nshould gain nothing by delaying the draught for a few moments except\nto laugh at myself for having clung so eagerly to the remnant of a\nlife that had already run its course. But come, do as I bid you, and\nnot otherwise.\n\n\u201cOn this Crito gave a nod to the boy who was standing near; and the\nboy went out, and after spending some time in grating down the herb,\nreturned, bringing with him the man whose duty it was to administer\nthe drug mingled in a bowl. Well, said Socrates, my good fellow, do\nyou understand this affair, so as to give directions how we are to\nproceed? You have nothing to do, said the man, but to drink the\ndraught, and to walk about till you feel a heaviness about your limbs,\nand then lie down; after that the drink will work for itself. And with\nthis he gave the bowl to Socrates; and he, taking it very graciously,\nand without trembling or changing colour, but in his usual way looking\nthe man broadly {125} in the face, said to him, What do you say as to\nthis draught, may one make a libation of a part of it, or not? We\ngrate down just what we think is a proper measure to drink, and\nnothing more. I understand, said he; but at all events it is lawful to\npray to the gods, that our migration hence may take place with good\nomens, even as I pray now; and so be it. And with these words,\nbringing the bowl to his lips, he quaffed the draught lightly and\npleasantly to the dregs. Whereupon we, who had hitherto been able to\nrepress our sorrow, now that we saw him drinking the poison, and not a\ndrop remaining in the bowl, in spite of every effort burst into tears;\nand I, covering my head with my mantle, began to bewail my fate--my\nfate, not his, considering of what a man and what a friend I was now\ndeprived. But Crito, even before me, not being able to restrain his\ntears, rose up; and as for Apollodorus, who had been weeping all\nalong, he now broke out into such a piteous wail as to rend the hearts\nof all present and crush them with sorrow, except only Socrates\nhimself, who quietly remarked--What is this you are about, my good\nsirs? Did I not send the women away expressly for this purpose, that\nthere might be no extravagant lamentings at my exit, for I have always\nheard that in a sacrifice it is a good omen when the victim receives\nthe blow peacefully. Be quiet, therefore, and possess your souls in\npatience. Whereat we, being ashamed, made an effort to restrain our\ntears. Then he walked up and down, till, feeling his legs become\nheavy, he came, according to the direction, and laid himself down on\nhis back; whereupon the man who gave the bowl came up to him and\ntouched him, and at short intervals examined his feet, and {126} his\nlegs, and then, pressing his foot closely, inquired if he felt\nanything, to which he replied, No; then the man gradually brought his\nhand further and further up, first to his shins and then along the\nleg, asking always if he had any sensation; and when he gave no sign\nwe saw that his limbs were cold and stiff. Then he himself likewise\ntouched his body with his hand and said, _When the numbness comes up\nto my heart then I shall depart_. And after that, when the numbness\nhad reached the lower part of the belly, he suddenly uncovered\nhimself--for when he lay down he had thrown his mantle over his\nface--and said,--which were the last words he uttered--_O Crito, we\nowe a cock to \u00c6sculapius; pay the vow and do not forget_; and with\nthat drew the mantle again over his face. It shall be done, said\nCrito; have you nothing else to say? But now there was no reply; and,\nafter a short interval, a convulsive motion shook the body, and the\nman going up uncovered his face, and we saw that his eyes were fixed.\nThen Crito going up closed his mouth and his eyes. And this, O\nEchecrates, was the end of our beloved companion and friend, a man of\nwhom we may truly say, OF ALL MEN WHOM WE HAVE KNOWN, HE WAS THE\nBEST, THE WISEST, AND THE MOST JUST.\u201d\n\n\n\nARISTOTLE.\n\n{127}\n\nTHERE is a natural sequence in the processes of social culture which\nis well illustrated by the history of Moral Philosophy among the\nGreeks. The man of action comes before the man of literature, the man\nof literature before the man of science. In Greek ethics Socrates was\nthe man of action, Plato the man of literature, and Aristotle the man\nof science. Not, of course, that Plato was merely the literary man, in\nthe trivial modern sense of that word; he was eminently the\nphilosopher--not merely \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03cc\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 but \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03cc\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2--but he put forth his\nphilosophy in a popular form; he addressed himself to the imagination\nas well as the reason; he appealed, as we would say, to the general\npublic; and speaking to men in a human way, on the most interesting of\nhuman topics, through the medium of language artistically handled, he\nfalls manifestly under the broad category of the literary as opposed\nto the scientific man, who works on a special subject, and with a\nspecial faculty. But Aristotle was pre-eminently, and with very marked\nfeatures, the man of knowledge; he came with the dissecting knife in\nhand and addressed himself to those who were willing to make special\ndissections with him for the mere purpose of knowing, and drew a broad\nline of {128} demarcation between the speculative and the practical\nworld. Nevertheless the Stagirite was something more than a knowing\nmachine; he was a man, and by virtue of his Hellenic birth also a\ncitizen. He could not therefore avoid occupying to a certain extent\nthe province of the practical man; and so it has come to pass that in\nthree great works, the _Ethics_, the _Politics_, and the _Rhetoric_,\nhe has transported himself from the teacher\u2019s chair, and entered\ninto competition with Socrates and Plato as a preacher of social\nmorals and a guide to civic conduct. This was well both for him and\nfor us: well for him, because mere knowing can never exhaust the\nriches of a nature so essentially practical as that of man: well for\nus, because otherwise we could scarcely have imagined the phenomenon\nof an intellect at once so complete in all the categories of\nscientific cognition, and so strongly marked with all the sagacity\nthat belongs to the so-called practical man, the man of society, the\nman of business, the accomplished citizen. And it is to this walking\nout into the realm of common life, instead of confining himself like\nso many erudite Germans within the limits of a library or a\nlaboratory, that Aristotle owes no small part of the influence which\nhe has so long exercised, not only in the schools but among\nintelligent men of all classes. In ancient times, when Moral\nPhilosophy was justly regarded as the principal part of that wisdom\nwhich it concerns all men to possess, the Philosopher of the Lyceum\nnever would have been able to assert his place as a public teacher\nalongside of Socrates and Plato had he bestowed only a secondary\nconsideration on the grand arts of living and governing. As it was,\nthe poet-philosopher of the Academy could not but remain {129} the\nmore popular and the more effective moral teacher of the two; but if\nPlato was more attractive and more interesting, and by these qualities\ncommanded a wider audience, it was a great consolation to the lesser\ncircle of the Stagirite\u2019s disciples that, though in his discourses\non moral matters he was more angular and more severe, he was at the\nsame time more shrewd, more sagacious, and more practical. The\nreputation which Aristotle thus maintained among ancient Greeks and\nRomans, both as a speculator and as a wise guide in the conduct of\nlife, was increased rather than diminished when brought into contact\nwith the new moral force of Christianity. No doubt Plato at first was\nthe natural vestibule through which the cultivated Greeks of\nAlexandria entered the temple of Christian faith; but after that\nfaith, partly in league with Plato, and partly in spite of Plato, had\nachieved its natural triumph, Aristotle, the clear, cold, and keen, but\nby no means devout master of all knowledge, by a sort of reaction, as\nit should seem, in the middle ages began to assert an exclusive\ndominance in the schools, both of Christian Europe and, through the\nArabians, in the East. To all who were anxious for clear and exact\nknowledge in matters visible and tangible, the Stagirite was the only\nguide. As the high priest of science he acted in those days of\nsacerdotal direction as the natural complement of faith, not as its\nantagonist; and for this reason he is praised by Dante among the\nsolemn forms of the mighty dead that pace through the dim halls of the\nunseen world, as\n\n \u201cIl gran maestro di color chi sanno.\u201d\n\nThe dethronement which he afterwards suffered at {130} the hands of\nthose twin innovators Luther and Lord Bacon was again a mere matter of\nreaction, and could in its nature be only temporary. Honest Martin\nraged in his own way very furiously against the great dictator of the\nschools, almost as if he had been the Pope:--\u201cAristotle, that\nhistrionic mountebank, who from behind a Greek mask has so long\nbewitched the Church of Christ, that most cunning juggler of souls,\nwhom, if he had not been accredited as of human blood and bone, we\nshould have been justified in maintaining to be the veritable\ndevil.\u201d[130.1] But this we plainly see to be the language of a man\nnot with the balance of truth in his hand, but with the sword of\nsacred wrath in his tongue; and, indeed, the sword was at that time\nvery needful, and wielded with a wise hostility, not against the true.\nAristotle whom we now read and admire, but against the so-called\nAristotelian fence of the schools, used oftener for subtle and shadowy\nexercitation and in defence of the grossest abuses than in the honest\nsearch after truth. Of the real Aristotle Luther knew as little in\nthose days as not a few Christians at the present hour know of true\nChristianity, coming as it does to them through the strangely\ndistorting media of scholastic subtleties, sacerdotal usurpations, and\npure human stupidities of all kinds. As for Lord Bacon, he was no\ndoubt equally right in stoutly protesting against the then\nAristotelian logic as a hindrance rather than a help to the true\nknowledge of nature; while, at the same time, he was no less certainly\nin the wrong if he imagined, or led men to imagine, either that\ninduction was the only method which leads to the discovery of\nimportant truth, or that {131} Aristotle\u2019s writings lent any\ncountenance to those baseless and unfruitful methods of speculation\nwhich were presented under the authority of his name. It was\nnecessary, however, that the human mind should be thoroughly\nemancipated from the dictatorial oppression of the false Aristotle\nbefore the true Aristotle could be reinstated on his throne; and this\nrequired time. Accordingly we find that some of the most original\nthinkers and ingenious scholars of the last century seem to have\nimagined that Aristotle and the Pope were two great usurpers, the one\nin the intellectual, the other in the religious world, whom the great\nProtestant movement of the sixteenth century, in the interest both of\nlearning and religion, had rightfully dethroned. \u201cMr. Harris, for\nexample,\u201d says his biographer, \u201chad imbibed a prejudice, very\ncommon at that time even among scholars, that Aristotle was an obscure\nand unprofitable author, whose philosophy had deservedly been\nsuperseded by that of Mr. Locke.\u201d[131.1] And in perfect harmony with\nthis, Mr. Burton, in his life of Hume, remarks that \u201cthe name of\nAristotle is not once mentioned in Hume\u2019s treatise of human\nnature.\u201d[131.2] Strange revolution of thought in a country where, in\nthe days of John Knox, it had been customary for famous academical\nteachers to say--\u201c_Stultum est dicere Aristotelem errasse!_\u201d And,\nindeed, not only Hume, but Bentham, James Mill, and all the thinkers\nof that century, manifested a strange lust of spinning knowledge out\nof their own bowels, so to speak, with a careless or insolent neglect\nof the great truths handed down for the use of all ages by the master\n{132} thinkers of ancient times. But not even in Scotland, never\nfamous for Greek, could such ignorance last for ever. The French\nRevolution of 1789 shook all men violently out of their old\ncomplacencies, and blew their dainty conceits of all kinds to the\nwinds; things were now to be built up from the foundations, not in the\npolitical world only, but in the intellectual and religious world no\nless; torpid Churches were suddenly fevered with hot activity; in\nliterature the forgotten language of a natural and passionate poetry\nwas to be restored; and in philosophy the ancient foundations of\nstable knowledge were to be laid bare. Under such a violent volcanic\naction it could not be but that both Plato and Aristotle should be\nmade to stand out before lesser names in their true dimensions.\nAristotle especially revealed himself to many thoughtful Germans, and\na few thoughtful Englishmen, as the precursor of Bacon in the use of\nthe great organon of induction; and the hard and cautious genius of\nthe Scotch, under the guidance of a polyhistoric Hamilton, found in\nthe Stagirite a more dignified corner-stone than in Reid for the\nerection of a philosophical edifice which rather sought safety in\nnarrowing than glory in extending the bounds of human speculation. In\nOxford, the stiff conservatism of the College tutors, men trained to\nthe exact knowledge of a few traditional books, more certainly than\nany profound philosophical insight, preserved the Ethics, along with\nthe Logic, of Aristotle as one of the general instruments of juvenile\ndrill; while, outside the academic precincts, liberal statesmen like\nCornewall Lewis and democratic historians like Grote continued to\nquote the Stagirite as the wisest at once and the most cautious of all\n{133} ancient political speculators. Thus the natural balance of\njudgment was restored; and Aristotle, redeemed at once from the\nignorant idolatry of pseudo disciples and the local conceit of men who\nspurned to learn from any but themselves, took his place for ever as\nan intellectual dictator of the first rank, with whom if a man did not\nhappen to agree, it was always more likely that the dissentient had\nwandered into error than that the authority from whom he dissented had\nfailed to fasten his glance upon the truth.\n\nBefore attempting to set forth in its great salient points the ethical\nsystem of Aristotle, it will be at once interesting and useful to\nsketch shortly the leading events of his life, omitting altogether, as\na matter of course, those hundred and one points of uncertain report\nand slippery slander which are wont to attach themselves to the fame\nof any great man as to a natural nucleus. And when a man like\nAristotle is not only a great man according to the common measure of\nhuman greatness, but an altogether extraordinary man, it is as natural\nthat he should be spoken against from all sides as that dogs should\nbark at a stranger. The epiphany of an intellectual giant in any\nassembly of men of average talent makes those appear dwarfs who had\npreviously, not without reason, accounted themselves of reputable\nstature; and as no man likes to be dwarfed, the necessary result of\nsuch an apparition is to set men\u2019s wits agog to find out cunning\ndevices, whereby the overwhelming stature of the huge intruder may\nseem to be curtailed. So Aristotle, we are told, had \u201ca whole host\nof enemies;\u201d and we shall therefore, as just judges, be justified in\nthrowing out of court, as vitiated in its source, the greater part of\nthe merely anecdotal {134} accretions that cling to the name of the\nmighty Stagirite.\n\nThe adjuncts of high social position and freedom from pecuniary\npressure, always advantageous to wise men, hurtful only to fools,\nAristotle enjoyed in a remarkable degree. Born 384 B.C. in a Greek\ntown, but under Macedonian influence, his father, who belonged to an\nold Asclepiad family, as court physician to King Amyntas, had ample\nopportunities of launching him into the world with all the training,\nequipment, and supports that are the natural harbingers of a\nprosperous career. He was not therefore a Greek in the strict sense of\nthe word; and, though he borrowed his language and culture from\nAttica, and sympathized mainly with popular institutions, as his great\nwork on Politics shows, he had good reason to congratulate himself\nthat he did not lose his original citizenship when the eloquence of\nDemosthenes thundered in vain against the gold and the iron of the\nMacedonian. In the period of Aristotle\u2019s youth there was nothing in\nGreece proper to make any thoughtful person lament that he had been\nborn a subject of a sturdy and semi-barbarous but rising monarchy,\nrather than a citizen of an exhausted and decaying democracy; for\nthough the victories of Chabrias had restored in some sort the\nsupremacy of the Athenians at sea, the brilliant career of Epaminondas\nhad elevated Thebes for a moment only to make general Greece more\ndivided and less able to resist the growing power of Macedonia.\nWhether his father had destined him to follow his own profession is\nuncertain; there are however in the _Ethics_, and elsewhere in his\nworks, frequent allusions to the medical art, such as might have been\nexpected from {135} the associations of his parentage; and the\nprominent place given to physical science in his writings seems to\nindicate a tendency partly favoured by the circumstances of his birth,\npartly evoked by the natural progress of the Greek mind in the then\nstage of its development. This only we know certainly, that at the age\nof seventeen, about the time when young men in Scotland generally\nleave school for the university, the future father of encyclop\u00e6dic\nscience was sent to Athens, where he remained for twenty years as a\npupil of Plato in the Academy. But though a pupil, he was anything but\na disciple. Naturally of an inductive rather than a speculative habit\nof mind, and disposed to dissect and to tabulate rather than to\ncollect and to construct, he displayed from year to year a more marked\ndivergence from the great ideal thinker who at that time was\nimpressing his type on the rising intellect of Greece. The reported\ngossip of antiquity has much to say about some bitter rivalry that\narose, and unseemly quarrel that broke out, between the dictatorial\nmaster and the independent pupil; but we need believe nothing of this,\nexcept in so far as it may be an indication of a radical difference of\nintellectual character in the two men, which could not but make itself\nfelt in various ways, more or less inconsistent with the relation of a\nmerely receptive and responsive discipleship. Nothing is more common\nin the intercourse of cultivated men, than that one of the parties\nfinds himself in a condition to respect profoundly what he cannot at\nall agree with, and what he feels bound, ever and anon, decidedly to\ncontrovert. So it fared no doubt with young Aristotle in relation to\nold Plato. Confluence between two souls so differently constituted\nthere {136} could be none. They cannot be compared as one rose may be\ncompared with another, or even as one flower may be contrasted with\nanother flower, but only as things of a totally different nature, may\nbe named in the same sentence to make their incommensurability more\npatent. The intellect of Aristotle was a granite palace, that of Plato\na garden of paradise; Aristotle\u2019s wit was like a sharp knife and a\nweighty hammer, Plato\u2019s like a rolling river and a shining ocean;\nthe one bristled with all carious knowledge, the other blossomed with\nall lofty speculation; Aristotle analysed all things great and small;\nPlato harmonized all things beautiful and grand. Along with this\ninborn diversity of intellectual character, we have reason to suppose\nthat there were certain habits of life and social peculiarities about\nthe Stagirite, which were not without offence to the more strict and\ndevoted Platonists. For that there was a certain tinge of Puritanism,\nand even a sort of lofty pedantry, occasionally manifested in the\ngreat architect of ideas, can, I think, scarcely be doubted by any one\nwho has read his great work--the _Republic_--with an unbribed\njudgment. Now if Plato was somewhat of a philosophical Puritan, in\nAristotle there was presented that combination of a philosopher and a\nman of the world, of the man of principle with the man of practice,\nwhich, because it is difficult to produce, is always rare, and because\nit is rare is always admired. A physician, and above all a court\nphysician, must be a man who enjoys and who understands society: such\nwas Aristotle\u2019s father; and the son, while betaking himself to the\nquiet bowers of the Athenian Academy for the cultivation of thought,\ncould not forget that there was a large busy world without {137} which\nimperiously asserted itself, and from which not even a philosopher\ncould be allowed to withdraw with impunity. It was a characteristic\ntenet of the Peripatetic school that the external trappings and\ndecorations of life are not to be looked down on with a lofty\ncontempt, but rather cared for as serviceable, and in some cases\nnecessary, aids to a perfect life; and so those Quaker-like\naffectations of plain garb, and those over-virtuous abstinences from\n\u201ccakes and ale\u201d and other delights of the merely sensuous part of\nour nature, which some Platonic and Stoic philosophers affected, could\nnot but meet from Aristotle with a practical protest, of which some\nsignificant hint peeps out here and there among the scraps of ancient\nanecdote-mongers and memoir-writers. Plato, we are told, \u201cwas not\npleased with Aristotle\u2019s manner of life, nor with his dress. For\nindeed he was somewhat nice and curious in his apparel, and there was\na particular tidiness about his shoes; and his hair also he had cut\nafter a jaunty fashion, not approved of by men of Plato\u2019s following;\nand he made a display of many rings on his finger. Moreover, there was\na peculiar sarcastic play about his mouth, and, when he spoke, he\ncould prattle away with a notable fluency; all which things seemed not\nto be quite in keeping with the character of a philosopher, and were\nthe occasion that Plato preferred Speusippus and Xenocrates, who\nafterwards became his successors in the Academy.\u201d This picture is,\nno doubt, in the main true; and it can only excite our admiration when\nwe consider that the same man of whom this is told was also noted as\nthe most severe and persistent reader in Athens; his house, indeed,\nwas called by Plato \u201cthe house of the reader;\u201d and the {138}\nlearned geographer Strabo notes him as the first Greek who collected\nbooks on a large scale, and supplied to the Ptolemies of the\nsucceeding age the model of those systematic stores of books with\nwhich they made Alexandria famous. Aristotle therefore may justly be\nregarded as the great prototype of those modern Germans who, like the\nmailed knights of the middle ages, stand up in our libraries, cased in\nthe invulnerable panoply of polyhistoric and encyclop\u00e6dic erudition;\nand he gave birth to that curious sort of intellectual laboriosity,\nwhich when divorced from his genius and his sagacity, produced those\naccumulations of written and printed record, under which the shelves\nof so many libraries groan, by which also, we may justly say, not a\nfew strong intellects have been lost to the living world, smothered\nbeneath heaps of cumbrous babblement, in extent infinite, in value\ninfinitesimal.\n\nAfter the death of Plato in the year 347, Aristotle retired for a few\nyears to the court of his fellow-student and friend Hermias, then\nruler of Atarn\u00e6, on the coast of Asia Minor. This change of scene was\nnecessary for him, while on the one hand his scheme of establishing a\nnew school of philosophy was yet immature, and, on the other hand, the\npolitical relations between Macedonia and Athens were not such as that\nit would be pleasant for him to be identified with a city which might\nsoon be forced into hostility with his natural sovereign. It was\nfruitful also, no doubt, in those shrewd observations on men and\nmanners which stamp so many sagacious pages in his moral and political\ntreatises. From this judicious retirement after a few years he was\ncalled to a field of more {139} honourable and influential activity.\nIn the year 342 he received a letter from Philip of Macedon,\nrequesting him to undertake the office of tutor to his young son\nAlexander. The duties of this position he performed with such results\nto his royal pupil as in such circumstances were to be expected; and\nwith the great advantage to himself of adding the resources of an\nabsolute monarch and a great conqueror to his own private instruments\nfor the prosecution of scientific research. The unexpected death of\nPhilip by the hands of an assassin, called Alexander prematurely to\ndash into that brilliant career of Asiatic victory which has made his\nname no less famous than that of his tutor, who by this event relieved\nat once from personal responsibility and political apprehension, found\nhimself in a position to establish that independent school of wisdom\nat Athens, which now for more than two thousand years has propagated\nitself in the world as the natural and necessary complement to the\nPlatonic style of thought. In the year 334 he pitched his intellectual\ncamp at the Lyceum, in the eastern suburbs of Athens, under Mount\nLycabettus, and here during the space of thirteen years he remained\nexercising towards his scholars the diverse functions of fatherhood\nand fraternity, which in the ancient philosophical associations, as in\nthe early Christian Churches, were so happily combined. After the\ndeath of Alexander, in the year 322, he left Athens and retired to\nChalcis, in Eub\u0153a, where he had a small property; a migration to\nwhich political considerations must have been the main inducement, for\nso distinguished a dependant of the Macedonian court could scarcely\nlook upon himself as safe in {140} the Attic capital the moment that\nthe death of the great conqueror opened up to the most distinguished\npeople whom his arms had subjugated the prospect of political\nliberation. The philosopher, accordingly, when leaving the city of his\nadoption, as it turned out for the last time, with an obvious allusion\nto the fate of Socrates, is reported to have said that he did so in\norder that the Athenians might not again have the opportunity of\nsignalizing themselves by the murder of a philosopher; for, indeed, in\nunlimited democracy generally, and specially in the extreme democracy\nof that time, he had no faith, observing sarcastically that while the\nAthenians had discovered two useful things, wheat and freedom, they\nunderstood how to use the one, but the other they had possessed for a\nshort time, only to abuse. And no doubt he acted wisely in retreating\nfrom a scene where no weight of character or reputation for grave\nwisdom could have shielded him from the combined assault of personal\nmalignity and political rancour so ready in every democratic soil to\nrise with jealous spite against individual eminence and independence.\nThe philosopher was threatened, we are told, with prosecution for\natheism; a charge which, however unfounded to the eye of reason, might\nhave been brought against the Stagirite from the orthodox Athenian\npoint of view with much more justice than about eighty years before it\nhad been brought against the great father of moral science. An atheist\ncertainly, in the strict sense of the term, Aristotle was not, but a\npious believer in the polytheistic theology of his country he was even\nless; piety indeed of any kind is not at all a pronounced feature in\nthe composition of his character. Like many a {141} modern man of\nscience, he had cultivated acuteness at the expense of wonder; and,\nwhile indulging in the omnivorous lust of knowledge, had starved\nveneration, and stunted the growth of some of the most delicate\nemotions of the soul. For devotion is of the very finest fragrance of\nthe emotional life; and as there are some flowers without smell, so\nthere are some souls without piety. In point of religious feeling,\nbeyond all question, both Socrates and Plato were infinitely superior\nto Aristotle.\n\nSuch are the few trustworthy notices that have been preserved to us of\nthe outward fortunes of this great hierarch of encyclop\u00e6dic\nknowledge. He died shortly after his retirement to Chalcis, at the\nearly age of sixty-three, followed immediately by his great\ncontemporary Demosthenes. On his deathbed he named Theophrastus as his\nsuccessor in the chair of the great school of philosophy which he had\nfounded.\n\nWe now proceed to place before the reader a short statement of the\nmost striking characteristics of the ethical philosophy of Aristotle\nas they are set forth in that compact little book, the _Nicomachean\nEthics_. And the first observation proper to make here is the extreme\npracticality that appears not more in the general colour and tone than\nin the individual chapters and paragraphs of this remarkable volume.\nIn criticising the sermons delivered in our Christian pulpits we are\naccustomed to distinguish between doctrinal and practical preaching,\nand to believe that while, in Scotland at least, the former is the\nmore popular and the more easy, the latter is always the more\ndifficult and the more efficient style of moral address. Now what we\nhave to say of Aristotle, as he appears in the _Ethics_, is that he is\nnot a mere {142} writer on ethics, an acute speculator or a subtle\ncasuist, but he presents himself with all the seriousness of a\npreacher, and an eminently practical preacher. No doubt in this\ncapacity he must be regarded both by natural genius and in the general\ntone of his ethical writings as second to his great master Plato; but\nhis influence on the moral culture of the world has not for that\nreason been less. A large class of men, especially in this practical\ncountry, are apt to suspect Plato of nonsense; and these are unwilling\nto take advice in the affairs of common life from a man who, in his\nflights of ideal constructiveness, so far transcends the narrow range\nof their own hard-faced realism. But Aristotle is a man whom no man\ncan suspect of nonsense. He takes what lies before him, and in the\nmost cool practical way conceivable proceeds to analyse it, and to\nspell out its significance. He is not ambitious--at least not in the\ndepartment of morals--of piling a grand system, or of tabulating an\nexhaustive scheme. He is a practical man, as much as you or I am, and\nsees with marked distinctness always what lies in his way. There is no\nfear that under his guidance you will lose yourself in a mist or be\ncarried off your feet in a balloon. He is therefore peculiarly fitted\nfor being put forward as a lay-preacher to a British public; and the\nOxford scholars have done good service to the English youth by giving\nhis famous work on Ethics such a prominent place among classical books\nof the first rank. He is as sensible as Dr. Paley, and a great deal\nmore profound; while, on the other hand, it never occurs to him that\nit is necessary to prepare the way for a plain practical discourse on\nthe conduct of life by abstract discussions {143} on the liberty of\nthe will and the responsibility of free agents. This omission\nPrincipal Grant considers a weakness; I consider it a sign of good\nsense, or, at all events, a remarkable piece of good luck. He assumes\nmorality in the moral world, just as he assumes light and air and\nwater in the physical; he describes a moral man with strong lines and\na firm hand, just as he would describe a healthy man as contrasted\nwith a diseased man. If you have a single eye and an honest purpose,\nyou will not fail to know what he means; if you have not, his book is\nnot for you. There never was a more practical preacher. This word\n_practical_, therefore, I desire the reader to emphasize doubly when\nhe applies himself to the thorough comprehension of the _Nicomachean\nEthics_. There are, no doubt, in this treatise, as in almost every\nGreek book, some half-dozen curious questions raised, which, like the\nsubtle casuistry of the Jesuit doctors, have little practical value;\nfor Aristotle was a Greek, and as such a habitual dealer in\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1, or knotty points, in the solution of which a hard\npractical Scot or a broad burly Englishman would think a single\nsentence wasted. These however belong to the soil, grow up like weeds\namong the best wheat, and, like bad puns in Shakespeare, must be taken\nwith the lot. In the gross and scope of his handling, as we have said,\nthe Stagirite systematically waives all unpractical questions; and in\nthe very arrangement of his book an attentive reader will not fail to\ndiscern that there are certain scientific deficiencies which can be\nexplained fully only from the consideration that the writer had\nvividly realized the difference between what we could call an\nacademical lecture and a sermon, and was {144} determined to make it\nfelt that a lecture on morals, through which the undertones of\nseriousness that belong to a sermon are not heard, is one of the most\nabsurd and unmeaning of all human performances. No doubt this defect\nin respect of strictly scientific method may arise partly from the\nfact that the treatise seems to have been composed at different times,\nand packed up, so to speak, in bundles rather than reared up\narchitecturally into a jointed structure; it is also plain enough to\nany one who can read with a discerning eye that the work was left\nincomplete by the great author, and that the fifth, sixth, and seventh\nbooks, as we now have then, are from a different hand, and of\nmanifestly inferior workmanship; but I consider it not less certain\nthat, had it not been for the dominance of the practical point of\nview, not a few chapters in this most valuable treatise would have\nbeen compacted more aptly into the firmness of a complete organism.\nOnce and again in the first two books of his treatise does he repeat\nthe solemn warning that our object in inquiring into the nature of\nvirtue is, not that we may know what virtue is, but that we may be\nvirtuous. Once and again does he enter a protest against the\nsupersubtle tendencies of his countrymen, always ready to stand and\ndebate, even where the solution of the problem was to be found only in\nmotion and in action. Subtleties of any kind, indeed, are not suitable\nfor a moral discourse; the entertainment of them shows that the\ninquirer has not yet conceived what the purport of the inquiry is;\nethical philosophy refers as distinctly to a deed as a sword refers to\na cut; and all questions about morals are idle, and even pernicious,\nthat do not bear directly on some practical result. {145} We must\ntherefore, so Aristotle argues, in our method of discussion here, not\ninsist on having always those exact proofs and nice definitions which\nin the sciences of measurement and number may fairly be demanded. We\nshould rather seek for an analogy to moral science in such arts as\nmedicine, and say that propriety of conduct, like the health of the\nbody, is liable to much indeterminateness and variation; that to seek\nfor scientific rules which might apply with exactitude to all cases is\nabsurd; that no wise man will attempt to cut logs with razors, and\nthat in such matters of complex practice we must content ourselves\nwith stating some such broad general principles as suit the great\nmajority of cases, and which every man must be left to apply for\nhimself in the experience of life. Of the deep tone of practical\nseriousness which underlies the whole of the _Nicomachean Ethics_, I\nknow no more striking proof than an utterance of Maurice, in the\npreface to his exposition of the Epistles of John, which I shall here\nextract. \u201cI owe unspeakable gratitude,\u201d says that truly\nevangelical moralist, \u201cto the University of Oxford for having put\nAristotle\u2019s _Ethics_ into my hands, and induced me to read it, and\nto think of it. I doubt if I could have received a greater boon from\nany university or any teacher. I will tell you what this book did for\nme. First, it assured me that the principles of morals cannot belong\nto one time or another; that they must belong to all times. Here was\nan old heathen Greek making me aware of things that were passing\nwithin me, detecting my laziness and my insincerity, showing how\nlittle I was doing the things which I professed to do, forcing me to\nconfess that with all the {146} advantages which I enjoyed he was\nbetter than I was. That was one great thing. Next, I could not but\nlearn from him--for he took immense pains to tell me--that it is not\nby reading a book or learning a set of maxims by heart that one gets\nto know anything of morality, that it belongs to life, and must be\nlearned in the daily practice of life. English and Christian writers\nno doubt might have told me the same thing. But I am not sure that\ntheir words would have gone as much home as Aristotle\u2019s did. I might\nhave thought that it was their business, part of their profession, to\nutter those stern maxims, and to hold up such lofty ideals of\nconduct.\u201d And what adds immense force to Aristotle\u2019s preaching,\nespecially with young men, is the feeling that they have here to do\nnot only with a non-professional preacher but with a thorough\ngentleman, and a shrewd man of the world, the friend of princes, and\nof great statesmen and mighty captains. It is seldom indeed that young\nmen in the heat of their blood and the glow of their fancy will listen\nwith much attention to sermons of any kind, even from the best\npreachers; but if they will not receive the word of warning from such\na prophet as Aristotle they will at least have no excuse for sneering\neither at the doctor or the doctrine. In him they will find no\nsarcastic Cynic, content with the negative pleasure of snarling from\nhis private kennel at the faults of men, instead of rising to help\ntheir infirmities; no sickly devotee whose principal occupation\nthrough the dreariness of the present life is to dream and maunder\nabout the glories of the future; no curious registrar of morbid frames\nof mind or dainty nurse of unproductive sentiment. Such caricatures of\nthe spiritual man, {147} justly odious to the vigorous, generous, and\nsanguineous temper of youth, may be found cropping out largely in the\nhistories both of philosophical and religious sectaries; but not a\nhint of them appears in the thoroughly masculine, thoroughly manly,\nand thoroughly healthy Ethics of Aristotle.\n\nThe corner-stone of Aristotle\u2019s moral doctrine, as in that of\nSocrates, lies in the single word \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2, which, whether in its\ninternal side as Reason, or with its outer face as Discourse, was so\npeculiarly the watchword of the Hellenic race. \u201cThe Greeks seek\nafter wisdom;\u201d and wisdom, or \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03af\u03b1, is in all cases the\nresult, and the only possible result, of the just exercise of\n\u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 or reason. We shall not therefore expect to find in the\nStagirite any fundamental principle different from that on which the\nmoral doctrine of Socrates rests--nay, just as some of the most\ncharacteristic maxims of the New Testament can be pointed out in, and\nno doubt were actually borrowed from, the Old Testament, even so, and\nin a much greater degree, was the ethical doctrine of Aristotle\nborrowed in its great leading points from Socrates and Plato. This\nborrowing, however, was not in the style of patchwork; it was an\naffair of natural growth. What we find in Aristotle is not a new\nethical doctrine, but the emphasizing and systematizing of certain\nimportant aspects of an old doctrine. Now the aspect which Aristotle\nstrongly emphasizes as the starting-point of his ethical teaching is\nthe \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 and the \u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd. All men profess to have some object after\nwhich they strive in their life and by their deeds; no man in this\nworld, as Goethe says, can safely live at random: the ship that sails\nat random will be wrecked {148} even in a calm, and the man who lives\nat random will be ruined without the help of any positive vice. What\nthen is it that men must propose to themselves as the \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2, the\nend, object, or purpose of their existence? Generally, all men profess\nto be seeking for the \u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd, or the Good. The question,\ntherefore, which ethical science has to answer is, in the words of the\nWestminster Catechism, _What is the chief end of man?_ What is the\nultimate aim and highest Good, the _summum bonum_, of which the\ncreature called Man is capable? How are we to discover this? Plainly\nin the same way that we discover the chief good of any special kind of\nman,--a man exercising any special professional function. What is the\n_summum bonum_ of a flute-player? Of course to play the flute, and to\nplay the flute well; of a soldier, to fight well; of a shoemaker, to\nmake good shoes; of a brewer, to brew good beer; of a fowler, to snare\nbirds; and of an angler, to hook fish. The chief end, therefore, of\nany creature is found by discovering his natural work or business in\nthe world,--for all things are full of labour, and a man\u2019s duty is\nalways some kind of work. As, then, there is a special work for the\nflute-player or the fowler, which determines his chief good, so, if we\nare to find the chief end of man, we must put our finger on some\ngeneral work or business, which belongs to all men as men, and not as\nengaged in special occupations and practising particular arts. How is\nthis work found? Of course by fixing our attention on the\ndifferentiating element in the human creature. The differentiating\nelement in birds is wings, in fish fins, in worms rings. By this\ndifferentiation, stamped on every creature by the absolute\ndictatorship of {149} Nature, the destiny and the duty, the privilege\nand the glory, of each type of organized existence is inevitably\ndetermined. The creature has nothing to do in the matter but to\nrecognise and to obey; unreasoning creatures unconsciously and\nblindly, choice. The proper work of man, therefore, can lie only in\nwhat in him is most distinctively human; not therefore of course in\nany function of the merely vegetative life which he has in common with\nthe plant; nor again in any function of the merely sensuous life,\nwhich he enjoys in common with, oxen; but in the exercise of that\nfaculty which he alone possesses, and which alone stamps him as\ndistinctively human, viz., REASON. The work of a man, accordingly,\nand the chief end of all men, will be an energizing of the soul,\naccording to reason, or not without reason; and a life according to\nreason will be good, and the chief good; and not only so, but it must\nalso be the pleasure, and the highest pleasure, of the reasonable\nbeing who leads such a life; for the pleasure of every creature lies\nin acting freely and without hindrance according to its distinctive\nnature; and as horses are the pleasure of the rider, and views of the\nlandscape painter, so good actions are the pleasure of good men, and\nreasonable actions the delight of all who live by the use of reason;\nso much so indeed, that he cannot even claim to be numbered amongst\ngood men who, besides doing good deeds, does not likewise rejoice in\ndoing such deeds. Charity given with an unwilling hand is not charity;\nit is a boon extorted.\n\nThis statement taken almost literally from the first eight chapters of\nthe first book of the _Ethics_, will, it is hoped, make the moral\nattitude of Aristotle {150} sufficiently intelligible. He does not\nsay, with Bentham and the modern utilitarians, \u201cLook round about you\nfor what is pleasurable; and that which affords pleasure to you, and\nto the greatest possible number of creatures with whom you are\nsocially connected, is your duty;\u201d but he looks about to find your\ndistinctive excellence, your peculiar faculty among all\ncreatures,--\u201cExercise that,\u201d he says, \u201cand you fulfil your\ndestiny, and attain your chief good. As for pleasure, that you will\nhave also, not as an amulet hung about your neck, but in the very\nnecessity of your energy exercised according to your special nature.\nCultivate what is noblest in you, and you cannot fail to find what is\nmost agreeable. The doing of this, however, is by no means so simple\na matter as in the mere abstract statement might appear. It is the\nbusiness of a man, no doubt, to act reasonably, that is virtuously,\njust as much as it is the business of a bee to bag honey; but it is a\nmuch easier thing for the bee to suck honey from the flowers than for\na man to force fragrant deeds from the stuff that daily life presents.\nHow is this? The difficulty lies in the compound nature of man: a\nnature not compound only, but composed of parts of which one is found\nto be often strangely at variance with the others; so much so, indeed,\nthat while reason is the distinctive faculty of man, and to act\nreasonably is at once his safety, his happiness, and his glory, he\nbears within himself likewise a principle of unreason, an\n\u1f04\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd opposed to his \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2,--a principle in the normal\nstate of man altogether dependent and servile, but which, as things\nare, has a strong tendency to rebel, assert an unruly independence,\nand even cast down from his throne {151} the lawful regent of the\nsoul. This, the reader will remark, is exactly the doctrine of St.\nPaul, with regard to the contrariety of Flesh and Spirit, in the\neighth chapter of the Romans, and expressed in almost the same terms.\nThe exact words of Aristotle are: \u201c_There appear manifestly in human\nbeings some strong natural tendencies different from reason, and not\nonly different, but fighting with and resisting reason_.\u201d But this\nremarkable peculiarity in the complex creature Man does not in the\nleast change the nature of human good; it only adds to it another\nelement which makes it in the end more glorious--the element of\nresistance, struggle, victory, and triumph,--of course always with the\nnecessary alternative of possible feebleness, cowardice, and defeat.\nAnd the same fact,--the same original sin, as our theologians term\nit,--nicely considered, raises a noticeable question about the origin\nof laws and moral obligation; that old question so often discussed by\nthe Sophists, and argued, as we have seen, by Socrates, in his\ndiscourse with Hippias, whether right and wrong exist by nature or by\ninstitution, \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 as they expressed it, or \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u1ff3; and the\nanswer given to this question by the Stagirite, characterized by his\nusual good sense, is that, while the determination of right and wrong\nis not a matter of arbitrary, compulsory imposition, according to the\nselfish theory of Hobbes, but lies deeply rooted in the innermost\nrecesses of human nature, it is nevertheless true that it is the\nnature of man, more perhaps than of any other animal, to require\ntraining and discipline to bring out what is in him; and that virtue,\nin fact, is not virtue till the inborn impulses towards excellence\nhave been fostered and strengthened by those social {152} appliances\nwhich lie in the very primary conditions of human life. We are made\nvirtuous, therefore, neither by nature, nor contrary to nature, nor\nindependently of nature, but we _grow_ virtuous by repeated acts of\nliving according to reason, as we learn to see by using our eyes.\nVirtue is, in fact, a habit;[152.1] and as one fit of drunkenness does\nnot make a man a drunkard, so one act of generosity does not make a\ngenerous man, and the whole roll of the virtues practised only once or\ntwice, however completely, does not make a virtuous man. Hence the\nimmense importance of education, which other animals may dispense\nwith, but not man, and on which, accordingly, both Plato and Aristotle\ninsist, as the one thing needful for the well-being, whether of the\nindividual or of society. The existence of innate tendencies towards\nthe Good does not in the least imply that human nature in its early\nstages may be safely left to itself. These good tendencies may be\ncounteracted by opposite tendencies; they may be overwhelmed by\nadverse circumstance; they may be extinguished; and experience proves\nthat they not seldom are extinguished.\n\nHaving laid this sure foundation in the differentiating element of\nman, the philosopher might naturally have proceeded to prove that,\nassuming man to be naturally a social animal, and widowed with those\ninstincts which make social organization necessary to his normal\nexistence, any application of reason to social existence, that is,\nevery assertion of practical reason in a creature so constituted, is\nwhat we call {153} right, and every omission to assert it, or direct\nassertion of the contrary, is what we call wrong. A right action is an\naction according to the real constitution of things, which reality it\nis the business of reason to discern; a wrong act is an act in\ncontravention of the real constitution of things, and can be performed\nonly when reason is undeveloped or asleep, or by some violent impulse\nor blind illusion led astray: it is an act insulated, contumacious,\nand rebellious, issuing necessarily in confusion and chaos and ruin;\nfor no single unit in a complex whole can assert its mere capricious\nindependent self in practical denial of the totality to which it\nbelongs, without producing discomfort at first, and ultimately being\ncrushed by the firm compactness of the mighty machinery which it has\nrecklessly dared to disturb. How this might have been demonstrated in\ndetail the reader of the preceding discourse on Socrates cannot be\nignorant; but however much it lay in his way, the Stagirite in his\nNicomachean treatise did not choose to enter upon this theme. For this\nprocedure he may have had two sufficient reasons; for, in the first\nplace, he may have thought that view of the matter lay too obviously\nin the whole scheme and handling both of Plato and Socrates, to be\nsusceptible of much novelty at his hands; and in the second place, he\nmay have considered such a demonstration, however cogent in a book, to\nbe less practically useful than some test of right and wrong, which he\nmight be able to formulate. And in the test which he hits upon, as we\nshall presently see, it is quite evident that practical utility rather\nthan theoretic invulnerability was his main object; and this is\nprecisely what, in consistency at once with the nature of the {154}\nsubject, and his own introductory observations, he was directly led to\ndo. His test was simply this, that virtue, or right conduct, is\ngenerally found in the mean between two extremes; for though there may\nbe the same difficulty in pronouncing about the quality of particular\nactions, sometimes, as there is in pronouncing about the state of\nbodily health in any individual, yet, upon a broad view of both cases,\nnothing seems more obvious and more certain than that the unhealthy\ncondition, whether of body or soul, is chiefly indicated by some\ndeficiency or excess. In other words, virtue is a medium, a balance, a\nproportion, a symmetry, a harmony, a nice adjustment of the force of\neach part in reference to the calculated action of the whole. Now, it\nwill at once be seen that this principle is not put forth as anything\nnew; its truth rather consists in its antiquity, and in the\ndeep-rooted experience of all human individuals and all human\nassociations. It is a principle which forms part of the proverbial\nwisdom of all peoples; and the Greeks especially from the oldest times\nwere strong on this point. \u039c\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u1f04\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd--\u03bc\u03ad\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u1f04\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd--\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1f76 \u03bc\u03ad\u03c3\u03c9 \u03c4\u1f78\n\u03ba\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f64\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd--were maxims familiar to every Greek ear long before\nAristotle; and in the realm of speculation, the \u1f00\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2, or\n_number_ of Pythagoras, when applied to morals, really meant nothing\nelse. So in the Proverbs of Solomon we find the well-known\nutterances--\u201c_Hast thou found honey? eat so much as is sufficient\nfor thee, lest thou be filled therewith and vomit it_.\u201d And again:\n\u201c_Be not righteous overmuch, neither make thyself overwise; why\nshouldst thou destroy thyself? Be not overmuch wicked, neither be thou\nfoolish: why shouldst thou die before thy {155} time?_\u201d And our\nShakespeare, whose plays are a grand equestrian march of all wisdom,\nsays to the same effect in his own admirable style--\n\n \u201cThese violent delights have violent ends,\n And in their triumph die: like fire and powder\n Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey\n Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,\n And in the taste confounds the appetite:\n Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;\n Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.\u201d\n\nWhat Aristotle enunciated therefore was merely the most commonplace\nwisdom; and so much the better. Commonplace wisdom is the best kind of\nwisdom for common needs and every-day occasions. It is too late in the\nday now, and was too late in Aristotle\u2019s time certainly, to be\ndiscovering altogether new rules for keeping the consciences and the\nstomachs of the human millions in good order. Things absolutely\nnecessary to healthy existence were necessarily known from the\nearliest ages, unless indeed we imagine that the primeval man was\ncreated in a state of physical and moral disease, that he might grope\nand blunder his way into health, as some theorists assert that he\ngroped and blundered his way from a tiger into a moral being, and from\na monkey into a man. So far unquestionably, Henry Thomas Buckle was\nright: there are no discoveries to be made in morals. We do not\ndiscover the sun; we only recognise it when the clouds are blown and\nthe rain has exhausted itself. So it is in morals--in the light which\nlighteth every man that cometh into the world. We do not discover\nmoral principles by a fingering induction, or in any other way; we\nmerely remove obstructions; we can apply the {156} bellows also and\nblow the small spark into a mighty flame. Our endeavours therefore as\npreachers, and as philosophers, like Aristotle, are not in vain. We\nhave much to do, if not in the way of discovering absolutely new\nprinciples, certainly in a thousand and one ways of applying those\nprinciples. A burning-glass when first invented did not discover the\nsun; it utilized the sun. And in the same way the institution of every\nnew church or the establishment of every new school is an invention in\nmorals, though not a discovery of a new moral principle.\nSabbath-schools were a discovery in morals; Voluntary Churches were a\ndiscovery in morals; Reform Bills were a discovery in morals. And in\nthe world of books, we must say also that the principle of the mean\nasserted and systematically set forth in the Nicomachean Ethics was a\ngreat discovery in moral philosophy. The discovery consisted in the\nsagacity which seized, among a thousand others, a floating proverb, as\nalone fit, or mainly fit, for being made the corner-stone of a\ncomprehensive canon of human conduct. To pick up a rough stone from\nthe road, and polish it, and set it in a ring, and carve upon it the\nsignature of the king\u2019s imperial will, is no small achievement; and\nthis simile precisely appraises the merit of the Stagirite, in\nreference to that old maxim \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u1f04\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd, which we have just\nquoted. He has stamped it with the authority of his own regal\nintellect, in a manner appealing not less effectively to the analytic\nhabits of the scientific man, than to the broad views so dear to the\nso-called practical man. And that he was grandly right in seizing upon\nthis rule of conduct, no person who has ever seriously applied,\nhimself to the wisdom of life, as to the one {157} thing needful, will\nhare any difficulty in admitting. For there is hardly a man of any\nself-knowledge who will not be willing to confess that the greatest\nblunders he has made in the difficult game of life have arisen from\nthe neglect of this rule, as his most signal successes have sprung\nfrom the observance of it. The attainment of this golden mean, indeed,\nin one shape or another, is the constant problem of existence; and it\nwill be difficult to point out any defects of moral character which do\nnot arise either from a certain feebleness and deficiency of some\nnecessary practical energy, or from the exaggeration and\nmisapplication of virtues--a misapplication, be it observed, which\nalmost always proceeds from an excess; for as a mother is apt to have\nher pet child, and an old maid her green parrot, her Skye terrier, or\nher tortoise-shell cat, on which she spends the overflow of her\nnon-utilized sympathies, so every man is apt to have his pet virtue,\nhis idol excellence, on which he prides himself, and of which he is\nfond of making a parade on all proper and improper occasions. It is\nthe excessive sway of the favourite affection that makes a man blind\nto discern and weak to prevent its improper application. This is a\ngreat truth--and somewhat of a comfortable truth, too; for to sin by\nexcess of good is always better than to offend from pure viciousness;\nand man is upon the whole (notwithstanding the floating lies of the\nhour, and the Devil\u2019s Paradise in New York) a blundering rather than\na diabolical creature. The importance of Aristotle\u2019s rule arises\nfrom the fact that it is a regulative principle of universal\napplication; and in this way it may well be taken in the left hand,\nalong with the golden rule in the right {158} hand, \u201cDo unto others\nas ye would that they would do unto you;\u201d for this sacred sentence\nis founded on a just, delicate, and broad sympathy, and belongs rather\nto the emotional element--the moral steam, so to speak--of our nature,\nwhich, to avoid great perils, must always be associated with the\nregulative principle of the mean, or something to that effect. These\ntwo famous maxims indeed may, for practical purposes, be regarded as\ncomplementary of each other. For persons in whom the sympathetic\nemotions predominate are often deficient in the regulative faculty;\nwhile those whose power of regulation is great have sometimes little\nto regulate, and like a great commander with few soldiers, make a very\npoor appearance in the battle-field. In the struggle of life, the man\nwhose sympathetic unselfish impulses are strong will perhaps find more\nbenefit from the constant reference to Aristotle\u2019s mean than even to\nthe Scriptural golden rule; while the well-tempered Aristotelian will,\non the other hand, find it for his advantage to inquire whether the\neven pace at which he goes is not as much owing to the dullness of the\ncharger\u2019s blood as to the skill with which the rider wields the\nrein. For there is no single maxim in morals that will conduct a man\nthrough all practical difficulties without the consideration of some\nother maxim qualifying it, and perhaps, for the nonce, giving it a\nflat contradiction; as I have known a gentleman who confessed to me\nthat by nothing had he been led into so many serious blunders as by\nthe indiscriminate application of this very text, \u201cDo unto\nothers,\u201d etc.; for, being a man of a peculiar idiosyncrasy, and not\nhaving learned that the golden rule applies only to that which we\n{159} hold in common with our fellow-men, and not to those points on\nwhich we differ, he was constantly led into a course of behaviour\ntowards certain persons, meant by him as a great kindness, but taken\nas a serious offence. While he wished not to be troublesome, he was\nconsidered to be neglectful; while he abstained from mentioning\ncertain subjects for fear of rousing painful feelings he was accused\nof coldness and indifference; while he meant to be frank and\nconfiding, he was met with a rebuff that he was rude and impertinent.\nAll this shows how little mere preaching and parading of general\nmaxims has to do with the difficult task of the formation of\ncharacter; and no writer deserves greater praise for having gravely\nenunciated this truth than the author of the Nicomachean Ethics. In\norder fully to realize the value of the Aristotelian mean in the\nconduct of life, we may follow the method of the great moralist\nhimself, and cull a few examples at random for its verification. We\nshall take three virtues--courage, truthfulness, self-esteem--and see\nhow distinctly they stand out each as the middle-point of two vicious\nextremes. That courage is the mean between cowardice and rashness does\nnot require to be told: but what a wide field of operation does this\ntriad open to us, while we proceed to realize it in education, and in\nthe conduct of public affairs, and in the events of life! What a nice\njudgment is required to know at what exact point the too much and the\ntoo little commences, where the right way swerves into an error of\nwhich the consequences may be incalculable! For the mean point is\nvariable; and the hesitation which would be prudence in one person, or\non one occasion, is cowardice in another. A sailor sailing without a\n{160} chart among blind reefs and strong currents--such as occur\neverywhere in the Shetland seas--can scarcely be too cautions; with a\nsoldier, a bold dash into a difficulty with a fearlessness which can,\nscarcely be distinguished from rashness is sometimes the nearest road\nto a brilliant success. And as good amusements are a mimicry of life,\nthere is a moment at bowls, or croquet, or backgammon, or even\ndeliberate whist, when the fortune of a whole game may depend on a\nmove which at other times would be either the most stupid ignorance or\nthe most reckless folly. The wisdom of life, considered as a battle,\ndepends at every moment on the skill to know when to advance and when\nto retreat, when to dash on with the spear, and when to crouch behind\nthe shield; to know this moment is to know the just mean between\nrashness and cowardice, which the Greeks by a very significant name\ncalled manhood (\u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2) or courage. Take another virtue. Of all\ncommodities in the world, the most difficult to deal with is truth.\nIf, indeed, all men went about the streets, like Socrates, in search\nof nothing but truth, and thanking everybody most fervidly for any\ncontribution to his stock of it, even in the most disagreeable shape,\ntruthfulness would be an easy virtue; as easy for a human being, one\nmight imagine, as for a quick fountain to spout water, and for an\neager fire to spit flame. But we all know it is not so--rather quite\notherwise, for truth is an article to which, except in so far as\nparticular truths may happen to prop up their prejudices, to flatter\ntheir vanity, and to inflate their conceit, many persons have serious\nobjections. To fling it in their face is to insult them; to put it\ndown their throats, {161} even with a silver spoon and sugar-candy, a\ndifficult operation. Hence, in the conduct of life, the great\nimportance of not speaking too much truth, lest we frighten people,\nand not speaking too little, lest we learn altogether to live upon\nlies. In mixed society, on account of the extreme sensitiveness of all\nsorts of vain and self-important persons, the rule is generally\nadopted of speaking as little truth as possible--that is, as little\nserious truth about important matters; for truth about trifles will\ndiscompose no one. But this conventional reticence is by no means the\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 which a reasonable compliance with the Aristotelian\nrule in this case would require; for though a surplus of truth is sure\nto make society uncomfortable, and a deluge of it makes it impossible,\na great deficiency will certainly make it tame and stupid; and this is\nthe extreme to which, in this country, we have lately been drifting\nwith a gentle, but not the less a dangerous, current. Even in our\npulpits we find a sort of cowardice sometimes formally enthroned, and\na tame coldness set up as the standard in a place where, above all\nothers, an indiscreet fervour might occasionally be allowed to pass\nfor full cousin to the greatest excellence. Take again, self-esteem,\nwhich is partly an instinct, partly with wise men the result of that\nself-knowledge which long and varied experience ought always to\nproduce. This is a moral mean perhaps even more difficult to strike\nthan truthfulness; for in speaking, or rather not speaking, the truth,\nthe principal difficulty a wise man has to deal with is the weakness\nof a brother; whereas, in estimating himself, the wisest man is\nconstantly liable to be bribed by that love of self which, indeed, is\nthe necessary root of {162} our vitality, but never can be the\nblooming crown of our glory. In reference to this quality, the general\ntendency of the world is towards overestimate; most persons are apt to\nmeasure too highly the value of their own particular strong point, and\nto under-estimate, or altogether misprize, that of their neighbours;\nas a gentleman in the month of August scouring the moors in triumph\nwith a gun will be apt to think himself a much more sublime character\nthan a poet lying lazily on a heather brae, and spinning out pretty\nfancies to the tune of a brown burn that eddies lazily round an old\ngranite boulder; while the rhymer, on the other hand, thinks it a\ndaintier occupation to sympathize quietly with feathered life than to\ntake it away with powder and shot. So it is with us all, women as well\nas men--\n\n \u201cIf a fair girl has but a pretty face,\n She has the wit to know it.\u201d\n\nAnd there is no reason why she should not know it. If a woman does not\nknow her points, according to a high authority, she cannot even dress\nwell; only, experience has proved that the less men and women think\nabout their strong points, except, of course, when they are dressing,\nthe better; for there is no more certain way of committing suicide on\nthe higher moral nature than by falling in love with ourselves. In\nreference to this matter, therefore, it may be thought that the other\nand less common extreme is the more safe--it is better to think too\nlowly of ourselves than too highly. And it is a fact, capable of being\nproved from a hundred biographies, that the greatest men have been the\nleast given to self-glorification; that modesty, as is commonly said,\n{163} is the invariable accompaniment of genuine power, while forward\nconceit, and empty inflation, and boastful exhibition of all kinds,\nare the natural characteristics of the young, the superficial, and the\nsmall. The under-estimate of self often found in connexion with the\nhighest genius, especially in the early period of its experiments,\narises naturally from the high ideal of perfection, by the\ncontemplation of which excellence grows. No young man who puts a few\nwell-adjusted and well-toned figures together on a piece of canvas can\nknow, and certainly ought never to imagine, that he carries Raphael\nand Michael Angelo, and something better than both perhaps, in his\nbosom. But though this be true, I do not know whether I have not seen\nmore sad mistakes made in life by persons who were rather depressed by\ntoo little than elevated by too much self-esteem. I have sometimes\nthought that the conceit so natural to young men is given to them by a\ngracious provision as a superfluity that is sure to be pruned off. The\nworld is constantly employed in pulling down outrageous conceit; but\nwhen a poor fellow starts in the hot race of life, afflicted with that\ndisease which the Greeks call \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03c9\u03c0\u03af\u03b1, or _difficult-facedness_--that\nis, so modest as not to be able to look a fellow-being in the face--I\nmust confess, though I have a kindly feeling towards a person so\ndeficient which I never can have to the smart and pert self-conscious\nmannikin, I feel that the defect of the one is a much greater\nmisfortune, and a malady much more difficult to cure, than the excess\nof the other. With some persons, and indeed whole families, the\ntendency to underrate their own capacity acts like a positive taint in\nthe blood; it cuts the wing from hope, dulls the nerve {164} of\naspiration, and palsies the arm of action. It makes an honest man\nuseless where God has put him, and opens the door for a dishonest man\nwith a little natural confidence to do badly what the honest man for\nsheer lack of confidence has not been able to do at all. The man of\ndefective self-esteem thus commits two great wrongs--he wrongs\nhimself, because he allows himself to be shunted out of his natural\nsphere, and becomes a hindrance where he might have been a help; and\nhe wrongs the public, which lacks both the insight and the leisure to\ndrag modest merit from its den and to look with an unwinking eye on\nthe juggling glamoury of the bold pretender.\n\nBut it is not only in the phases of individual character and the\nexperiences of personal life that the validity of the Aristotelian\nstandard of well-being is strongly asserted. In every sphere of\nexistence through the various drama of the cosmos, we find the same\nprinciple in operation. And we may, without qualification, broadly\npronounce that the world is a \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, an ordered and garnished\nwhole, only in so far as it is held together by the harmonizing law of\nthe mean; otherwise it jerks asunder, and through violent excess bolts\ninto chaos. Take what we call Health, for instance; what is it but the\nrhythmical medium, of normal pulse between the excess of fever and the\ndefect of feebleness? which two extremes, as the common saying is,\nnecessarily meet; for they are both equally removed from healthy life,\nand sisters-uterine to death and dissolution. Then, again, what is\nBeauty? A power which all feel, but few can define; neither shall I\nattempt to define it now. But one thing at least in reference to it is\nquite plain, that it is always a medium {165} betwixt two extremes,\nor, what comes to the same thing, a marriage of extremes. For by such\na marriage, as we see in the commonest processes of chemical action, a\nmean product is produced of a comparatively mild and innocuous\ncharacter. The corrosive acid or alkali is annihilated and a neutral\nsalt comes to view. Exactly so in works of nature or art on which the\nimagination can pleasantly dwell. No extreme is beautiful. The extreme\nof force overwhelms; the extreme of gentleness enfeebles and\nenervates. Therefore, to make a handsome man, we must borrow a few\ntricks of grace from the female; and to make a woman who shall be more\nthan an animated rose or primrose, we must find her infected with a\ncertain dose of firmness and energy from the male. A mere masculine\ncreature, composed altogether of the extreme of strength and force, is\ndisagreeable, and often unbearable; a mere feminine creature in the\nextreme of delicacy, however finely tinted with the \u201c_dolce mistura\ndi rosa e di ligustro_,\u201d which Ariosto lauds, if she is capable only\nof a gentle smile and a soft caress, very soon becomes tiresome. She\nis the extreme of the mere woman, and, like a cooing turtle-dove, soon\nsatiates; and at the apparition of such an unfeathered pigeon we yawn,\nas from the fully-developed unmitigated male bear we shrink. But it is\nin the great movements of the social world--in the rise and fall of\nstock and commercial speculations--no less than in the slow changes\nand violent revolutions of Churches and States, that the operation of\nthe Aristotelian mean is most strikingly exemplified. Moderation,\nindeed, both in Church and State, and on \u2019Change, is the one great\ncondition of safety--no proposition {166} in Euclid is more certain\nthan this: but though this be the wisdom of government and of trade,\nit is a wisdom which political, commercial, and ecclesiastical\nadventurers in all ages have been slow to learn; and in public life we\nconstantly meet with persons who act and speak as if they believed\nthat the triumph of an extreme view is ever the triumph of right, and\nthat the well-being of communities consists in the unlimited sway of\none party and the complete annihilation of all others. And it may be\nsaid also, that, notwithstanding all the warnings of centuries of\nbloody experience, the man or the party that takes the strong\none-sided violent view has, on critical occasions, the best chance to\nsucceed. Wisdom in the days of Solomon lifted up her voice in the\nstreets, and was not heard. It is even so now. The streets are not the\nplace for wisdom. Wisdom requires calm reflection; but the streets are\nfull of hurry and bustle. Aristotle had a serene contempt for the\nmultitude, and the multitude have an instinctive aversion to\nAristotle. When you bring a multitude of men together to be harangued,\nviolent and extreme opinions pronounced in the strongest language are\napt to be the most popular. A one-sided view taxes thought less; a\none-sided speech flatters an ignorant audience, who are capable only\nof one idea--at least only of one at a time--and who delight to hug\nthemselves in the fancy that there is no other idea in the universe.\nAnd the natural leader of a multitude so affected is not, of course,\nyour man of many thoughts, your Aristotle, your Shakespeare, your\nGoethe, but your well-packed, self-contained, little man, full of\nbottled fire impatient to burst forth, who marches from his cradle to\nhis grave capable only {167} of one aspect of things, and who, if the\nnotion by which he is governed happens to jump with the humour of the\ntime, shall become the demagogue of the hour, or, if circumstances\nfavour, the dictator of the age. When, indeed, we consider the\nundeniable fact that great social changes are generally effected\nthrough the agency of excited multitudes and highly stimulated\nparties, we shall not be surprised at the result so often exhibited in\nhistory. That result shows bloody civil wars instead of peaceful\narrangement; faction instead of patriotism; and an oscillation between\nfeverish extremes, instead of a well-calculated balance of social\nforces. The revolutions and reforms which fill the most interesting\npages of history teem with examples of this kind. These revolutions\nand reforms are of two kinds--remedial and constructive, or\ndisintegrating and destructive; and the history of both equally\nillustrates the hopelessness--perhaps it were more correct to say the\nimpossibility--of expecting wisdom and moderation to perform a\nprominent part in the management of the congregated millions of\ndiverse and hostile-minded men under the passionate influences that\naccompany organic change. For these things are generally done in the\nmanner of a battle: parties get heated; the blood is up; first ink is\nshed in oceans, then gall, then blood; and who expects moderation from\nmen with partisan pens or poignards in their hands, and carrying on a\nsystematic trade in all sorts of misrepresentation, slander, and lies?\nWe read sometimes, indeed, of a whole people having by a happy\naccident found out their wisest man--as in the notable example of\nSOLON--and oligarchs and democrats voluntarily submitting themselves\nto {168} him as a just and legal arbiter. The result in this case, as\nwe read, was what might have been expected. The wise man produced a\nwise constitution. The contending claims of the adverse parties were\nadjusted with moderation; and a mingled polity, presenting a just\nmedium between oligarchy, the cold selfishness of the few, and\ndemocracy, the overbearing insolence of the many, was the result. But\nnothing human is permanent; and the next changes did not proceed so\ncomfortably. The democracy, inflated with their military successes at\nMarathon and Salamis, would tolerate no check; their Areopagus, or\nHouse of Lords, was shorn of all influence; the extravagant ambition\nof their popular assemblies was fooled to the top of its bent by the\nunprincipled brilliancy of adventurers like Alcibiades; the constant\nnecessity of maintaining political influence by flinging sops to a\ngreedy multitude produced, as we see in America at the present hour, a\ncorruption of public morals, and a deterioration of the character of\npublic men, against which all patriotic remonstrances were weak:\nfaction assumed the helm; venality became law; and at the moment of\ndanger, when the young Macedonian snake might yet have been crushed,\nthere was found only one honest man among the noisy haranguers of the\nPnyx. And to him they listened only when it was too late. Thus, by the\nexcess of democratic polity fostered by Pericles, the insolence of\ndemocratic ambition spurred by Alcibiades, the languor that followed\nthe over-exertion of the Peloponnesian War, and the corruption that\nbelongs to every extreme form of government, Athens forfeited her\nshort lease of brilliant liberty, and became a slave for more than two\nthousand years. A similar scene {169} was exhibited in the Roman\nForum, which, however, I must refrain from painting out in detail\nhere. Suffice it to say that, so long as a moderate balance between\npatricians and plebeians was maintained, the Aristocratic Republic of\nRome prospered at home and conquered abroad; but no sooner had the\ndemocracy, by the Hortensian law of B.C. 286, asserted the right of\nacting alone in legislative measures, without the co-operation of the\nRoman House of Lords (that is, the Senate), than the seed of\ndestruction was sown. The two parties were now planted face to face on\nindependent ground; two masters in the same house claimed equal power;\nthe peaceful balance became a battle-field; assassinations in the\nForum were the harbingers of butcheries in protracted dramas of civil\nslaughter; violence was followed by exhaustion; and on the bloody\nsteps of a democratic Tribunate the armed nursling of the democracy\nmounted the throne of universal despotism. So the public life of\nAncient Rome ended with faction and a native military monarchy, as\nthat, of Greece in faction and subjection to a foreign power. There\nare some people of a happy innocence of mind who believe that we in\nmodern times, by the help of Christianity and schoolmasters, may haply\nescape all these evils and flourish in a green immortality on the\nearth, if not under present circumstances exactly, at least by and by\nwith the help of manhood suffrage, ballot-boxes, unbearded\npoliticians, and a few other democratic imaginations. I am sorry to\nsay that I do not in the least share in these anticipations: only\nunder one condition is it possible that modern States should escape\nthe disintegrating process which annihilated the constitutions of\nAncient Greece and {170} Rome--they must study moderation; they must\nbe converted to the doctrine of Aristotle; otherwise they must perish.\nThat in free constitutions public affairs should be managed by the\noscillations of opposing parties is necessary and natural: the\nannihilation of parties is possible only with the prostration of\nliberty; but the eternal truth still remains, that if parties will not\nacknowledge certain wise limitations, but push their hostility to\nextremes, the preservation of national liberty is impossible. If, when\norganic reforms are necessary, the wise and moderate men of all\nparties will unite together to make such changes as will satisfy the\njust demands of new claimants, without destroying the equally just\nrights of the old, then, so far as political forces of corruption are\nconcerned, the durability of a constitution may be looked upon as\nsecured; but if the parties, instead of working for a patriotic\npurpose, are more concerned for the momentary success of a\nparliamentary man\u0153uvre than for the ultimate triumph of a great\nprinciple--if, instead of wisely and courageously confronting a\nviolent and unreasonable clamour and quashing outrageous folly with\nstatesmanlike firmness, they waver, and flinch, and yield, and even\ncondescend to the base game (practised in ancient Rome and medi\u00e6val\nFlorence) of outbidding one another in cowardly concessions to an\nuntempered multitude--in this case, neither Christianity nor\nschoolmasters can save any modern State from perdition, either on this\nor on the other side of the Atlantic. For there is not one law of\nmorality for the individual and another for public men, but they are\nboth the same; and it is not so much the form of government as the\ntone of political morality, {171} and the character of politicians,\nthat saves or ruins a State. If in any country the management of\npublic affairs falls into the hands of men who make a trade of\npolitics, and employ an organized machinery of violence, and lies, and\nintrigue, for the purpose of getting into power; and if they consider\npower valuable, not for the purpose of moderating popular passions and\nexposing popular delusions, but for keeping their party in place by\nspreading full sails to the popular breeze, then that country is\nalready in the hands of the destroying Siva, and no constitution can\nsave it. Political wisdom is not to be expected from men who enter the\ngame of public life with the recklessness of professional gamblers;\nand that army will scarcely be looked to for noble achievements in the\nfield which, with Selfishness for its god, has chosen Cunning for its\ncaptain, and planted Cowardice for a guard.\n\nIn these last remarks we have wandered beyond the strict bounds of the\npresent essay into the domain of Politics, and the Art of Government,\nbut not without design; for the _Politics_ and the _Ethics_ are with\nthe Stagirite only two parts of the same work; as indeed with the\nGreeks generally, personal ethics were always conceived of in\nconnexion with the State, in the same way that with thorough and\nconsistent Christians the fruits of social virtue cannot be divorced\nfrom the root of theological faith of which they are the consummation.\nAnd whoever studies the great treatise on the Art of Government with\nthat care, which more than any other work of antiquity its weighty\nconclusions demand, will not fail to observe that the key-note to the\nwhole political system lies in that \u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, or just mean,\n{172} which is the prominent principle of the _Ethics_. But this by\nthe way. What remains for us now, in order that the modern thinker may\nhave a full view of the attitude of Aristotle as a moral philosopher,\nis that we exhibit him discoursing in his own person on some one of\nthose types of social character, which in his third and fourth books\nhe has so skilfully analysed. For this purpose we shall choose the\nsection on \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03af\u03b1 or _great-mindedness_, a chapter eminently\ncharacteristic both of the writer and of the people to whom he\nbelonged, and presenting also, one of the most striking of those\ncontrasts between the attitude of Hellenic and that of Christian\nethics, which it is one object of the present volume to set forth. The\nChapter is the third of Book IV.\n\n\u201cThat great-mindedness has reference to something great is plain\nfrom the name; let us inquire therefore, in the first place, to what\ngreat things it refers; and here it is of no consequence whether we\ntalk formally of the moral habitude itself, or of the person who\npossesses that habitude. Now, a great-minded person is one who esteems\nhimself worthy of great things, being in fact so worthy; for the man\nwho claims for himself what he does not deserve is a fool; but in\nvirtue there can be nothing foolish or unintelligent. This therefore\nis the great-minded man. For though a person\u2019s estimate of himself\nshould be just, for example, if, being worthy of little consideration,\nhe esteems himself accordingly, such an one we call sober-minded, but\nnot great-minded; for without a certain magnitude there is no\ngreatness of soul, just as beauty demands a certain stature, and\nlittle people may indeed be pretty and well-proportioned, but they\n{173} are never called beautiful.[173.1] On the other hand, the man\nwho esteems himself worthy of great things, being not so worthy, we\ncall pretentious and conceited; though not every one who\nover-estimates in some degree his real worth is justly charged with\nconceit. And in the opposite extreme to this, the man who claims less\nthan he deserves is small or mean-minded, whether his real desert be\nsomething great or something moderate; and he remains small-minded\nalso, if, while he is worthy of little, he rates himself at less. But\nthe greatest offender in this case is he who, being worthy of great\nthings, nevertheless considers himself worthy of little or of nothing;\nfor how deep might such a man\u2019s self-esteem have fallen if he had\nbeen really as devoid of moral desert as even with so much real merit\nhe rates himself? Now the great-minded man, in respect of comparative\nmagnitude, seems to stand at an extreme, but in respect of\nself-estimate he is the just mean; for his estimate of himself falls\nneither within nor beyond the mark of truth, while the others fail on\nthe one side by excess, and on the other by defect. Further, the man\nwho deems himself worthy of great things, being so worthy, of course\ndeems himself worthy of the greatest things, and of one thing,\nwhatever that be, pre-eminently great. What then do we mean when we\nsay that a man is worthy, that he may justly claim great things or\nsmall things? We use {174} this language always in reference to\nsomething external. And the greatest of external things is that which\nwe pay to the gods, and that which men in the highest situations\nchiefly desire, and for which among men there arises the most noble\nstruggle of the most noble. This, of course, is honour; for honour is\nthe greatest of external goods. It is in reference therefore to\ndemonstrations of honour and dishonour that the great-minded man\ncomports himself as a wise man ought. And indeed this is a point which\nrequires only to be stated, not argued; for it is manifest that\ngreat-minded men everywhere are spoken of as being great-minded in\nreference to honour; for it is honour above all things of which truly\ngreat men think themselves worthy, and that in the measure of their\ndesert. But the small-minded man is deficient both in relation to\nhimself and in relation to the dignity that belongs to the\ngreat-minded, while the conceited man no doubt sins by excess in\nreference to his own merit, but not in reference to the high estimate\nof himself justly entertained by the great-minded man.\n\n\u201cAgain, it is obvious that the great-minded man, if he is worthy of\nthe greatest consideration, must be not only a good man, but one of\nthe very best; for always the better a man is the greater is his\ndesert, and the best man alone may claim the most. The really\ngreat-minded man, therefore, must be good; or rather, let us say that\nto be entitled to the praise of great-mindedness a man must be great\nin all virtue. Least of all, certainly, is it consistent with the\ncharacter of a great-minded man to droop his crest at the face of\ndanger and run away, or to do any act of injustice; for why should a\nman do anything dishonourable, {175} to whom even the greatest things\nin the world are small measured by the estimate that he entertains of\nhis own worth? And, indeed, it is quite ridiculous to imagine a man of\ngenuine great-mindedness who is not at the same time a virtuous man.\nFor, if he is bad he is certainly not worthy of honour, honour which\nis the reward of virtue, and is given only to the good. Let us say\ntherefore that great-mindedness is a sort of crown and blossom of the\nvirtues, for it elevates all the virtues, and without them it cannot\nexist. For which reason it is a hard thing to be truly great-minded;\nfor this elevation of the soul is not possible without general\ngoodness. We see therefore that it is with demonstrations of honour\nand dishonour that the great-minded man is principally concerned; and\nit is characteristic of him, that when great honour is done him by\ngood persons, he is pleased, but always moderately, because on every\noccasion he only gets what he deserves, or perhaps less; because, in\nfact, virtue never can receive a proper equivalent for itself in the\nshape of anything external: he will not, however, reject any such\noffering, however inferior to his merits, because he will consider\nthat people have given the best they had to give. But the honour that\nhe receives for small services, and from persons of no excellence, he\nwill hold very cheap; for it is not of such respect that he considers\nhimself worthy. Exactly similar is his relation to dishonour; for\ndisrespect in no kind can under any circumstances have reference to\nhim. But honour, though the principal, is not the only external thing\nthat belongs to the great-minded man; money, and power, and\nprosperity, and their opposites, affect him also in their proper place\nand degree, in such a {176} fashion always as that he shall neither be\nmuch elevated by their presence, nor much depressed by their absence.\nFor not even the absence of that honour, which he justly claims, will\nhe allow to affect his peace very deeply, much less the withholding of\nthat wealth and that influence, which are desired by the good only for\nthe sake of the honour which they bring with them. He therefore who\ncan look calmly on the absence of that which is most desired, will not\nbreak his heart because he finds himself destitute of those things\nwhich are valued only as they contribute to the attainment of that\ndesire. For this reason it is that men of a high self-esteem are apt\nto appear proud and contemptuous. It would appear also that the\naccidents of birth and fortune contribute in some degree towards\ngreat-mindedness; for persons of noble birth are considered worthy of\nhonour, and persons of great influence, and wealthy persons; and there\nis a superiority belonging to all such persons, which brings a certain\namount of honour along with it that is grateful to a good man. And it\ncannot be denied that such things have a tendency to engender a\ncertain loftiness of soul, for they are never without honour from some\nquarter. Nevertheless the only thing really deserving of honour is\nvirtue, though where virtue is conjoined with these external\nadvantages it will always command a latter share of public respect.\nBut those who possess such external advantages without virtue have\nneither any reason for thinking themselves deserving of great\nconsideration, nor are they properly called great-minded; for it is\nonly of those who possess virtue that such things can be predicated.\nOn the contrary, those who possess such external goods are apt to\n{177} become insolent and haughty. For without virtue it is by no\nmeans easy to bear prosperity well; and, not bearing it well, such\npersons are apt to conceit themselves better than their neighbours,\nand to despise them, while themselves spend their lives at random, and\ndo what chance throws in their way. For they imitate the manner of the\ngreat-minded man, not being like him in soul; and, while they do\nnothing on which a lofty estimate of themselves might justly be\nfounded, they find it easy to usurp an apparent superiority by looking\ndown upon their fellow-men. This superiority belongs of right to the\ngreat-minded man, for his opinion of himself is founded on reality;\nbut these, as chance may have thrown some exceptional tag of\ndistinction in their way, despise their neighbours. Again, the\ngreat-minded man is not fond of running petty risks, nor indeed is it\nby rash and hasty ventures in any shape that he would catch a small\nbreath of honour; but when a great risk presents itself then he\nwillingly confronts danger, and spares not his life, as deeming life\nsecondary when higher interests are concerned. Moreover, in reference\nto benefits, he is more given to confer than to receive them; for he\nwho confers a benefit always stands in a position of superiority,\nwhile he on whom it is conferred feels inferior. And when a benefit is\nconferred on him, he will repay it in larger measure; for thus the\nbenefactor will seem to be put under a new obligation, having received\nmore than he gave. He seems also to have a more wakeful memory for\nthose on whom he has conferred benefits, than for those from whom he\nhas received them; for the person benefited is always inferior to the\nperson conferring the benefit, {178} and the great-minded man always\nwishes to feel superior. And he does not hear of benefits conferred on\nhim with the same pleasure as benefits which he has conferred on\nothers, for which reason in Homer Thetis does not commemorate her\nservices to Jove; and in the same way the Spartans do not speak to the\nAthenians of the benefits they have conferred on Athens, but of those\nwhich they have received. It is also a mark of the great-minded man\nthat he will either not ask a favour at all, or do it with difficulty;\non the other hand, he is ready to do a service to all, but with this\ndifference, that while he bears himself loftily to those high in\nposition and worldly fortune, he is of easy access and condescending\nto the common man; for not to bow before the mighty is not easy, and\nis possible only to those who are inspired by a high sense of personal\nworth, whereas with common men any man may plant himself on an\nequality; and indeed even a little excess of pride in the presence of\nthe proud is never ignoble, while to be haughty to those beneath us is\nalways the sign of a vulgar mind, and a person of low ambition, as\nwhen one makes a vaunt of strength before the weak. Again, the\ngreat-minded man will not be the first to seize on honourable\ndistinctions when offered, but he will gladly let others precede,\nbeing slow and backward, except, indeed, where a difficult thing is to\nbe done, and a very rare honour achieved; generally he will meddle\nwith few things, but what he does put his hand to must be something\ngreat and nameworthy. We may further note that he will be open and\nabove ground, whether in his hatreds or his friendships, for to\nconceal a man\u2019s feelings is usually a sign of fear. And in every\ncase he will {179} be found more concerned for truth than for opinion,\nand he will shrink as little from an act as from a word that the\noccasion may demand; for his contempt of small men and small things\nmakes him indifferent as to results, and inspires him with a lofty\nconfidence. For which reason also he is much given to speak the truth,\nexcept indeed when he wishes to speak ironically; and it is his delight\nto use a little humorous self-concealment or self-misrepresentation\nwhen he speaks in mixed company. Neither is he able easily to adapt\nhimself to another person, unless, indeed, that person be a special\nfriend, for in this ready adaptability there is generally implied\nsomething slavish, as we see that flatterers have always something\nmenial in their character, and low persons more readily condescend to\nflatter. Nor again is the great-minded man much given to wonder; for\nto him there is nothing great. As little is he apt to store up a\ngrudge; for a great-minded man will not remember trifles, especially\npetty offences, but will rather overlook them. Nor will he indulge in\npersonal remarks of any kind, speaking little either about himself or\nothers; for neither is he careful to be praised, nor pleased that\nothers should be blamed; as little is he given to laud other people,\nor, on the other hand, to speak evil of others, even when they are his\nenemies, except perhaps occasionally, when insolence requires to be\nchastised. Further, about necessary evils, or vexatious trifles, he is\nnot the man to make many bewailings and beseechings, for to behave in\nthis manner a man must take these things much to heart, which he never\ncan. And oftentimes he will be found preferring what is noble and\nbrings no profit, to what is useful and gainful, {180} for his\nself-dependence stands out the more thereby. Finally, as to his\nappearance and manner, it will be noted that the great-minded man is\nslow in his movements, that his voice is deep, and his discourse\nweighty, for it is not natural that one who is not anxious about small\nmatters should be in a hurry, or that a person should be very much\nexcited on common occasions, to whom common matters are unimportant.\nSuch then is the great-minded man. The two extremes between which he\nrepresents the mean, are, as we have said, the man of low\nself-estimate and the man of large pretensions and conceit. Now these\ntwo are manifestly not bad men, for they are not evil-doers; they only\nmiss the ideal of what is true and noble in character. For the man who\nthinks meanly of himself, depriving himself of what he might justly\nclaim as his due, though not a vicious man, suffers under a great vice\nof character, the defect of not knowing himself; for had he known\nhimself, he would certainly have desired to possess the good things to\nwhich he has a natural right. At the same time such a person is not to\nbe called foolish; he is only backward. But such a misprision of\none\u2019s self, however removed from flagrant viciousness, has\nunquestionably a tendency to deteriorate the character; for the\nimagination of their own unworthiness, by which these persons are\npossessed, not only cheats them of valuable external good which might\nnaturally have fallen to their lot, but it causes them also to retire\nfrom many noble and excellent spheres of usefulness, and to shrink\nfrom the performance of most excellent actions. A conceited man, on\nthe other hand, is both foolish and self-ignorant, and exhibits\nhimself in a more {181} ridiculous fashion to the general eye; for\ndeeming himself fit for some honourable office, the moment he appears\nin public his inefficiency is exposed, and he parades himself in showy\ndress, and puts himself into attitudes, and wishes that the whole\nworld should take notice of his good fortune, and claims honour as\nrightfully due to him for such display. There is, however, a greater\nopposition between the man who thinks meanly of himself and the\ngreat-minded man, than between this man and the conceited, person; for\nin truth the mean abnegation of self, the cheapening of a man\u2019s\ncapabilities, and despair of all lofty achievement, is of more common\noccurrence amongst the masses, and on account of its negative\ncharacter leads in the practical warfare of life to more sad\nresults.\u201d[181.1]\n\nFor commenting on some of the remarkable characteristics of this\nchapter, hovering as they do so delicately on the slippery border that\nseparates a justifiable pride from a salutary humility, more apt\noccasion may present itself in our next discourse; in the meantime it\nwill serve more the purpose of the present inquiry to ask, whether\nthere may not be grave objections to a system of ethics based on the\nmere prudential calculation of a mean? and whether, granting this\ncalculation to be wise and salutary, so far as it goes, it may not\nrequire to be strengthened by some stronger force than any which the\nphilosophy of the Stagirite supplies? Now, in the first place, here\nthere is one very common class {182} of objections to the doctrine of\nthe \u03bc\u03ad\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd, to which we hope the whole tone of our previous\nremarks has already supplied the answer. \u201c_Is it possible_,\u201d some\none has often asked, \u201c_to possess too much love? Of what good\nemotion is envy the exaggeration? Can any modification of spite be\nvirtuous? Can any mere deficiency of the quality of truth account for\nthe viciousness of a positive lie?_\u201d To some of these objections\nAristotle has himself supplied the answer; but the best general answer\nto all is their impertinence as bearing upon a treatise which does not\npretend to set forth a curious definition, proof against every subtle\nobjection, but only to supply a useful practical rule. Whosoever\naccepts the _Nicomachean Ethics_ in the practical spirit in which it\nwas written, will soon find, perhaps by no very pleasant experience,\nthat there is nothing more common among good people than to have too\nmuch even of such a rare virtue as Christian love; for there is too\nmuch always when there is too much for the occasion, or too much for\nthe use or the abuse that is likely to be made of it; and unchastened\ngenerosity, inconsiderate philanthropy, and indiscriminate kindness\nare certainly not among the rarest of social faults. Equally certain\nis it that some of our most odious vices are only the despotic\nusurpations of certain instincts, natural and healthy in themselves,\nand when acting under the habitual check of other instincts equally\nnatural, so as to preserve the just balance of a harmonious whole.\nThus envy is merely the natural fruit of a salutary rivalry, when a\ngenerous sympathy is wanting; it is an odious state of mind arising\nout of an excess of rivalry on the one hand, and a deficiency of\nsympathy on the other. Let this style {183} of objections therefore\npass. But a more serious deficiency in the Aristotelian doctrine seems\nto reveal itself, when it is said, This morality is merely prudential\nand calculating; it regulates but it does not move: it supplies the\npilot at the helm, and gives him a curiously marked compass to steer\nby, but it leaves the ship in a stagnant ocean without wind and\nwithout tides. Now there is something in this objection, but not\nnearly so much as appears on the surface. Aristotle certainly is not\nan emotional writer; he does not stir the affections; he will never be\na favourite with women, or with poets, or with evangelists, or with\nany person--and this is by no means the worst sort of person--whose\nhead requires to be reached through his heart. It is not true,\nhowever, that he commits the folly of attempting to construct a\nsteam-engine without steam. He finds the steam there, and the engine\ntoo ready-made, and his only object is to supply a regulator, because\na regulator is the chief thing wanted. Whatever an unprincipled or\nparadoxical Sophist here and there might assert, neither Aristotle nor\nany notable philosopher of antiquity ever thought it necessary, to\ncommence his moral theory with a systematic controversion of the\nHobbesian doctrine that man is naturally all selfish, a creature that\nif left without policemen and executioners would necessarily grow up\ninto a mere intellectual tigerhood. Aristotle assumed, and expressly\nasserts, that man is naturally a social animal; the social instincts\nwhich form families and friendships, clanships and nationalities,\nbeing among the most marked peculiarities of his complex nature:\nthese instincts, he knew well, constantly exist in sufficient and more\n{184} than sufficient strength; they bubble out like streams from the\nmountain side, which require only a calculated control to make them\nuseful; they are the luxuriant overgrowth of a rich soil, which\ndemands, not the stimulus of a strong manure, but the check of a wise\npruning-hook. That this was Aristotle\u2019s view is quite plain; for he\nnot only believes in nature generally, as opposed to the institutions\nand conventions (\u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2) so much in favour with the Sophists, but\nhe devotes two whole books to what he calls \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03b1, a word\ncommonly translated \u201cfriendship,\u201d but which in the Nicomachean\nEthics is used in the widest sense to designate all the social\nsympathies and feelings implanted in man by Nature, with the relations\nspringing therefrom; and this part of his work, as Grant well\nobserves, is treated with a depth and moral earnestness that makes the\nreader feel the supreme importance attached to it by its illustrious\nauthor.[184.1] Aristotle therefore is not to be blamed for ignoring\nthe great motive powers of moral life; he only does not directly\naddress them; it was not his vocation; he was no poet, no apostle; and\neven without poets and apostles, Nature, he might well imagine, was\nalways strong enough for that part of the business. But even without\nthe fervid wheels of passion there lies in the Aristotelian\nphilosophy, at least for a certain class of noble minds, a driving\npower of the most approved efficiency. That driving power is simply\nthe love of perfection. \u201c_Be ye therefore perfect, even as your\nFather which is in heaven is perfect_.\u201d To live in the most\nexcellent way, according {185} to the true excellence of man, is the\nconstant ideal of an Aristotelian philosopher. And so long as the\nlofty consciousness of this ideal bears him up, he requires neither\nwhip nor spur to incite him to continue in a virtuous career. He acts\nin the true spirit of the poet when he says--\n\n \u201cI would do all that best beseems a man;\n Who would do less is none.\u201d\n\nOr, as Burns has it in the well-known lines,--\n\n \u201cThe fear o\u2019 hell\u2019s the hangman\u2019s whip\n  To haud the wretch in order;\n But whaur you feel your honour grip,\n  Let that aye be your border.\u201d\n\nThis is not a bad driving power by any means in the world, as things\ngo. True, it may not make a man a missionary, but it will keep him out\nof the mire, and teach him sooner to die than to do a base action.\nCertainly it will not confine him to the performance of virtues of\nmere prudential calculation.\n\nSo far well. But there is another view which, if we honestly take, we\nshall find it impossible to acquit the Aristotelian morals of a very\nserious defect. This defect is the want of the religious element. In\nsaying this I do not mean to assert that God--or rather the gods--are\nnot mentioned from beginning to end of his famous book; they are\nalluded to in several places, but merely in the form of a passing\nremark, as a pedestrian with a long day\u2019s journey before him may\npick up a primrose from a moist bank, or a fragrant orchis from a dry\nbrae, and fling it away. Now, there is nothing more nobly\ncharacteristic of Christianity than this, that piety is identical\n{186} with morality; that faith and works--not ritual, or ceremonial,\nor externally imposed works at all, of course, but genuine works of\nmoral fervour and moral firmness--are one; stand to one another, at\nleast, as the root does to the flower, or the fruit of a wholesome\nplant, of which not the root but the fruit is the valuable part. That\nthis is the only true and philosophical relation of the two great\nmoral potencies no thinker will deny. Or, to take another simile,\nwhich will suit equally well: Every arch must have its keystone; and\nthe keystone of every solid doctrine of ethics, as of every close\ncompacted system of speculative philosophy, is God. That there is a\ngreat defect here in the Aristotelian ethics is plain. A man might as\nwell write a treatise on the Affections without mention of reverence,\nas set forth a system of morals without mention of God. As the\ndiscipline of a well-ordered family implies the recognition of the\nfather as the great source from which the family flows--as the prime\npower by which it is regulated--so a treatise on human ethics implies\na chapter on human piety, or rather a pervading soul of human piety,\nwithout which all other chapters want their highest inspiration. And\nin this view the Aristotelian author of the \u201c_Magna Moralia_\u201d is\nwrong in blaming Plato for mingling up the doctrine of Virtue with\ndiscussions on the Absolute Good--that is, God. It is important to\ninquire what was the cause of this defect. That the subject was not\naltogether ignored by our philosopher is plain from the single\nsentence of allusion in Book viii. 12. 5; and, indeed, that a man of\nsuch reach of intellect should by mere accident or carelessness have\nomitted such an important factor in all moral calculations {187} seems\nin the highest degree improbable; but so far is the idea of God from\ngiving any colour to his system of Moral Philosophy, that the very\noccurrence of the phrase, \u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u03cc\u03bd, in the last section\nof the Eudemian Ethics, has been justly adduced by Grant among the\nmany proofs of the inauthenticity of that treatise. That Aristotle\nwas a theist is certain, both from other places of his voluminous\nwritings, and specially from a famous passage in the _Metaphysics_\nwhich has lately been brought forward with due prominence by the\nnoble-minded Bunsen in his great work, _God in History_; it seems\nimpossible, indeed, for such a profound thinker as Aristotle to be an\natheist, because, as Schleiermacher well remarks, \u201cPhilosophy cannot\ninquire into the totality of things, without at the same time\ninquiring into their unity, and as the totality of things is the\nworld, so the unity of things is God;\u201d or, as Spinoza has it in one\nof his propositions--\u201c_Quicquid est in Deo est, et nihil sine Deo\nneque esse neque concipi potest_.\u201d But it is one thing to be a\ntheist as a matter of speculative belief, and another thing to be a\nman of devout temper and pious practice. And herein, if I mistake not,\nlies the real cause of the defect in the Ethics now under\nconsideration. For if Aristotle had been a man of any fervour of\nreligious sentiment, he had two courses before him with regard to the\nGreek religion, neither of which he has followed--he might either,\nlike his great master Plato, or Xenophanes of Colophon among the\npre-Socratic thinkers, have attacked the Homeric theology, and shown\nhow its general tendency and some of its most distinctive features\nwere inconsistent with a pure and elevated morality, or, like\nSocrates, {188} Xenophon, Pindar, \u00c6schylus, Plutarch, and many other\nfar-sighted and large-hearted men, he might have taken Jove as the\nimpersonated Providence of Hellenic piety, and, allowing the immoral\ndeities quietly to drop, shown how all the highest qualities of the\nmoral nature of man are collected and concentrated in the supreme\nsovereign of gods and men. In the one case, he would have shown his\nzeal for true religion by his zealous iconoclasm of false gods; in the\nother case, he might have shown a still nobler form of piety by his\nkindly exhibition of the soul of good in things evil. But he did\nneither of these things; and the conclusion plainly is that the\nomission arose from a defect in his mental constitution, which\ncurtailed the reverential faculties of their fair proportions. From\nall which we learn a most important lesson: that the analytic work of\nthe mere understanding, even when practised by a Titan like Aristotle,\nis an inadequate method of reaching the highest form of vital reality,\nor, to use the words of Grant, it forces even the greatest minds at\ntimes to degenerate into a sort of smallness; and, generally, that\nmere intellectual culture never can of itself produce a complete and\nhealthy manhood--never can elaborate for a human soul that rich blood\nwhich then only appears when the watery element of the understanding\nis thoroughly permeated by the red particles of the moral and\nemotional nature. So true is it, to use St. Paul\u2019s language, that\n\u201c_knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth;_\u201d and of charity\nthere is no perfect form except that reverential recognition of the\ncommon fatherhood of God, and the common brotherhood of man, which we\ncall religion. Let this want of the devout element, therefore, stand\n{189} strongly pronounced as a defect in the ethical system of\nAristotle; he is less than Socrates and Plato as a moralist,\nprincipally because he is less in this. Omitting from his calculation\none element of that Nature which is stronger than all philosophies and\nwider than all churches, he has so far failed; and the failure of such\na man in such a field should teach our modern philosophers, physical,\nmechanical, and utilitarian, to beware of following his example.\n\n\n\nCHRISTIANITY.\n\n{190}\n\nAN ancient Greek poet, of grave thoughts and weighty words,\ndescribing the character and functions of one of the great primeval\ndivinities of his country, says that she is\n\n \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f40\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u1f74 \u03bc\u03af\u03b1,\n One shape of many names,\n\nan expression which might have been varied with equal truth, as\n\n One Power of many shapes,\n\nand indicating that the motley polymorphous harlequinade, as it\nappears to us, of a polytheistic Pantheism, is at bottom reducible to\na few fundamental forms; and if this be true of such a shifting\nkaleidoscopic exhibition as popular mythology, it holds good much more\nof popular morals. All moral philosophies are fundamentally the same,\nand cannot indeed be otherwise, being only the variously emphasized\nexpression of the one self-existent and self-organizing Reason--the\n\u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 \u039d\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c2 of Plato--which makes either a physical or a moral\nworld possible. We shall not expect therefore to find absolutely new\nprinciples in the laws which regulate human conduct any more than in\nthe laws of those primary vitalizing forces--Light and Heat--which\n{191} shape and regulate all organism, immutably and infallibly, by\nthe inherent necessity of the great Being of sleepless underived\nenergy of whom they are the manifestation. We shall, on the contrary,\nbelieve with an assured faith, that the principles of morals, and the\nprimary forces of the physical universe, are as immutable and\nself-congruent in the essential nature of things, as the laws of\nmeasure and of magnitude traced out by the mathematician; with this\nadvantage in favour of what has been sometimes ignorantly talked of as\ncontingent truth, that whereas the certainty of mathematical\npropositions depends on the fact that they are founded on\nself-limiting definitions of mere thoughts, with which no disturbing\ncondition, not even the fiat of Omnipotence, can interfere, the\ncertainty of physical and of moral laws flows from this, that they are\nfacts, subject to no man\u2019s definition, and necessarily existing as\nnormal manifestations of the great primary fact, which we call GOD.\nThe variations therefore which undoubtedly are observed in human\nmorals--variations peculiarly notable in the infancy and in the\ndecline both of individuals and of races,--are not contradictions, but\nonly partial, feeble, and inadequate expressions of immutable\nmorality. The ebb of the tide, looked at from a local and narrow point\nof view, is a contradiction to the flow; but both flow and ebb are\nparts of the grand harmonious motion of the sleepless waters of\nancient Ocean. Morals vary under varying conditions of society, as\nplants vary under more or less favourable conditions of growth, or\nlandscapes under more or less happy incidences of solar light; but\nthese variations, so far from contradicting each other, could not even\nexist without {192} a fundamental identity; as the element of likeness\nin the different members of a large family could not exist without a\ncommon parentage. And where there may not be a striking unity of\nexpression, traceable through all the varieties of popular morality,\nthere is always at least, as Mr. Lecky has well pointed out, a unity\nof tendency;[192.1] even as a plant, when it first spreads out the\ngreen lobes of its radical leaves, may present a very different\nappearance from the distinctive leafage of its perfect growth; but the\ntype nothing the less is one, and the necessary law of the whole\ncongruous growth lay in the unity of the germ. There is nothing\naccidental in nature; so neither in morals. All things are necessary;\nall things are self-consistent; all things are harmonious; all things\nupon a whole view of the whole are complete. The distinctive character\ntherefore of such an ethical system as Christianity is to be sought\nnot in the fundamental invariable absolute types of right and wrong,\nwhich are the same everywhere, but mainly in the following two\nthings--_First_, In its method of operation and in the steam power,\nthe strong convictions and fervid passions by which the moral\nmachinery is set in motion; or, to adopt another simile, in the\nfountainheads from which the necessary water-courses of a systematic\nsocial irrigation are supplied. _Secondly_, In the particular virtues\nwhich its method of operation and its moral steam, in conjunction with\nthe nature of the materials acted on, brings on the stage with a\ncertain preference. For though a moral system may, or rather must,\ninclude theoretically all {193} the virtues, and is justly blamed if\nit exclude one, even the smallest, yet from the narrowness of finite\nnatures, and the laws of habit, it seems practically impossible that\nas soon as any moral system becomes a traditional law for great masses\nof men, there should not be manifested a strong tendency to put\ncertain virtues into the foreground, while others are left to find\ntheir places without favour, or even with a certain amount of\ndiscouragement. All soils are not equally favourable to all plants;\nand the most healthy climates, where human beings of the greatest\namount of robustness and grace are produced, have never been free from\npeculiar diseases, springing from a source indissolubly intertwined\nwith the conditions of their remarkable salubrity. Another influence\nalso materially tends to give even the most large and comprehensive\nsystem of Ethics a certain apparent narrowness and one-sidedness in\npractice. A world-regenerating system of Ethics, such as Christianity,\nis not a thing, like a treatise on Logic, written in a book and laid\non the shelf, and allowed quietly to work its way with whosoever may\nchoose to take it up. It is an active, aggressive, invasive power; it\nis a strong medicine to knock down a strong disease; it is a charge of\ncavalry dashing onwards, like a storm, to break the solid squares of\nan opposing infantry, bristling with many spears. Such a movement is\nnecessarily one-sided; all movement is one-sided; speculation only is\ncatholic. We must not therefore expect Christianity, of all moral\nforces the most impetuous and the most imperious, to be free from this\nfault. It had to swoop down, so to speak, on violent wings from the\nspiritual side of our nature upon the sensualism of {194} the Greeks,\notherwise it could not succeed; and its most distinctive features will\nbe found to spring mainly from this necessary attitude of imperious\nhostility. There is no time to temper blows in the moment of battle. A\ngreat victory is never gained by moderate blows; though, when gained,\na wise general will always know how to use it with moderation.\n\nI will now proceed to attempt a sketch of Christian Ethics from the\ntwo points of view here indicated.\n\nFIRST, Let us inquire what is the steam-power, the lever, the motive\nforce of Christian Ethics. And here at once the most distinctive part\nof the Christian moral system meets us in the face; it is presented to\nus prominently, essentially, radically as a religion. It is not merely\nconnected with religion, not only, like the moral philosophy of Dr.\nPaley, willing to stamp its precepts with a religious sanction, and to\nfound moral obligation upon the will of the Supreme Being; much less,\nlike the philosophy of Socrates, ready to fraternize with religion,\nand eager to prove with Heraclitus, the profoundest of the\npre-Socratic thinkers, that all human rules of conduct are derived\nultimately from the necessity of the divine nature.[194.1] It is more\nthan all this; it is a religion; by its mere epiphany it forms a\nchurch; in its starting-point, its career, and its consummation it is\n\u201ca kingdom of Heaven upon earth.\u201d In its method of presentation,\nthough not certainly in its contents, it is as different from its\ngreat ally Platonism {195} as Platonism is from its great enemy, the\nHomeric theology; for Platonism, however nearly allied to\nChristianity, is a philosophy and not a religion; a philosophy which\ndid not even propose to overthrow the Polytheistic faith, whose\npoet-theologer it had so rudely assaulted. The moral philosophy of the\nGreeks, indeed, generally was either a simple wisdom of life in the\nform of precepts loosely strung together, as in the early Gnomic\npoets, or it was a wisdom of life deduced from principles of reason,\nas in all the Socratic and post-Socratic teaching. But the Ethics of\nthe Gospel came down upon men like a flash from Heaven; suddenly,\nviolently, fervidly and explosively, not with a curious apparatus of\nslowly penetrating arguments. There is no talk about reasons here at\nall; the \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 of St. John came afterwards and meant a very\ndifferent thing. \u201c_Repent ye, and be baptized, for the kingdom of\nHeaven is at hand!_\u201d is the form of the Evangelical appeal, in which\nno argument is attempted or indeed required. Your conscience tells you\nthat you are rebels against God; as rebels you can only live under a\ncurse; the whole sense-besotted Greek and Roman world is evidently\nlying under a curse; repent and be converted; return to God and be\nsaved; to man there can be no safety anywhere except in God, who is\nthe source of all good, and in Christ, who gave himself a living\nsacrifice that we might be redeemed from all evil. This is the whole\nstyle of the greatest moral Evangel the world has ever heard;\nabsolutely and simply an act of religion; all immorality is departure\nfrom God, all morality return to God. In the Christian Ethics God is\nnot a secondary figure; he is not brought in merely for a sanction: he\nis the central sun of the {196} whole system, from whose bright\nfountain of perennial excellence all the little twinkling lamps of our\nminor moralities are lighted up. The individual virtues of a Christian\nman are merely the flower and the fruit of a living plant, of which\nthe root is theology and the sap piety; nay more, the piety\naccompanies the flower and the fruit, and imparts to them a fragrance\nand a flavour, which gives them more than half their charm. A rose\nwithout smell would still be a rose; but what a world of difference to\nthe sense and to the sentiment would the absence of that fine\ninvisible essence imply! Christian virtue, in fact, can no more exist\nwithout piety than Socratic virtue can exist without logic. Socrates\nwas, no doubt, a remarkably pious man; but, while the piety of\nSocrates was a strong shoot from his reason, the virtue of a Christian\nis the fair issue of his piety.\n\nThe distinct proof of what we have here stated will be found\neverywhere in the New Testament, but in the Acts of the Apostles\nspecially rather than in the Gospels. For the ideal of Christian\ncharacter we refer naturally to the Sermon on the Mount and to the\ncharacter of our Lord as exhibited in the evangelic narrative; but for\nthe manner in which Christianity was presented to men, for the method\nof operation by which in so short a time it so wonderfully overcame\nthe stern ritualism of the Jew and the fair sensualism of the Greek,\nwe must look to the actual facts of the great early conversions as\nthey are presented to us in the apostolic memoirs of Luke. Let us see\ntherefore, in the first place, what we can learn from the early\nchapters of that most interesting narrative. Now, the starting-point\nhere plainly is the effusion of the Holy Ghost, an influence which,\n{197} whether we take it on this first occasion as miraculous,\naccording to the traditional understanding of the Church, or as\nsomething extraordinary but in the course of nature, is a phenomenon\naltogether different in kind from the action of arguments upon the\nratiocinative faculty of the mind, and had indeed been preceded not by\ninductions or deductions, or analytic dissections, or any scholastic\nexercitations at all, but by meetings for social prayer (i.\n14)--prayer which is the great feeder of the moral nature of man when\nreverting to the original source of all moral life in the form of\nreligion. It was therefore not in the philosophic way of debate and\ndiscussion, but in the religious way of inspiration that the\nregenerative afflatus of the first Christian Ethics came upon the\nJewish and Hellenic world; and it worked, let us say, by a fervid\nmoral contagion, not by the suasion of cool argument. And there can be\nno doubt, that if even in the intellectual world a wise ancient might\njustly say, _Nemo vir magnus sine aliquo afflatu divino unquam fuit_,\nmuch more in the world of moral and political action it is by the\ninfection of noble passions that men are moved to any grand issues,\nnot by the cogency of strong arguments. Melanchthon was as good a\nreasoner as Martin Luther, perhaps a better, but he had not the\nvolcanic fire of his fellow; and it was an eruption of this fire only\nthat could prevail to shake the stout pillars of the Popedom. And it\nwas by an influence manifestly quite akin to the impetuous energetic\neloquence of the great Saxon reformer, that by the first sermon of the\nApostle Peter, as we read, great masses of men were suddenly pricked\nin their hearts, conscience-stung as we phrase it, and in one day\nthree thousand {198} human beings, previously indifferent or hostile,\nwere added to the new moral community afterwards called the Christian\nChurch. Precisely similar in modern times has been the action of the\nso-called religious revivals, which, from the days of the Methodists\ndownwards, have done so much in this country to rouse from a state of\nmoral lethargy the most neglected and the most abandoned portions of\nthe community. Of Martin Boos, the celebrated Bavarian evangelist, we\nare told that his \u201csermon was as if he poured forth flame;\u201d[198.1]\nand not less striking were the moral effects of the eloquent\nWhitefield when he drew the tears in white gutters down the grimy\ncheeks of the congregated Bristol colliers, and, what is even more\nsignificant of his power, in Savannah elicited from the prudential\npockets of sage Benjamin Franklin, sitting before the preacher with a\nstiff determination not to contribute, first a handful of coppers,\nthen three or four silver dollars, and then five golden\npistoles![198.2] Preachings of this kind have been the subject of\nscoffing with light-witted persons in all ages; but they stand firm as\ngrave attestations of the fact that the Christian method of\nconversion, not by logical arguments, but by moral contagion and the\neffusion of the Holy Ghost, has, with the masses of mankind, always\nproved itself the most effective. Socrates did much more perhaps as a\nreformer of sinners than any preacher in the guise of a philosopher\never did; but he could not have done what Whitefield did with the\ncolliers. The arguments of Socrates convinced the few; but the fervour\nof Peter, the loftiness of his religious position, and {199} the felt\nfirmness of his historical foundation converted the many.\n\nAnd this brings us to the second important point in the original\nattitude of Christianity, and the manner in which it moved the moral\nworld. This point is the historical foundation on which the moral\nappeal stood; and this historical foundation was the miraculous life,\ndeath, and resurrection of the Founder of the ethical religion. It\nconcerns us not to inquire here, whether Christ was a real person, or,\nas certain Germans with their ingenious whimsicality will have it, a\nmere myth; as little need we ask whether the miracles were really\nsuspensions of the laws of nature, or were mere acts of remarkable\npower somewhat exaggerated by the wondering narrators; much less can\nit be necessary for the present argument to weigh the evidence for the\ngreat crowning miracle of the resurrection. Concerning these matters,\nevery man must either judge for himself or take the authority of\nnearly two thousand years of effective Christian teaching as a\nsufficient guarantee. But what we have to do with here is simply this:\nthat these facts were believed, that the Apostles stood upon these\nfacts, and that the ethical efficiency of Christianity was rooted in\nthese facts. Take the facts away, or the assured belief in the facts,\nand the existence of such an ethico-religious society as the Christian\nChurch becomes, under the circumstances, impossible. Consider what an\neffect the personality of Socrates had in establishing what we with no\ngreat license of language may call the Socratic Church in Athens. The\nvarious schools of philosophy, first in Athens and then in Rome, were\nsects of that Church. Had Socrates not lived and died {200} with\nvisible power and effect before men, the existence of these schools,\nfathered by this great teacher, would have been impossible. A person\nis the necessary nucleus round which all social organisms form\nthemselves. But the personality of Socrates was a much less important\nelement in the formation of the Socratic schools than that of Christ\nwas in the formation of the Christian Church. Socrates was only a\nteacher--one who, like other teachers, might in time create disciples\nas wise, perhaps wiser than, himself; Christ was a redeemer, whose\nfunction as such could be performed by no vicar, and transmitted to no\nsuccessor: the one was a help and a guide, the other a foundation of\nfaith and a fountain of life. Socrates taught his disciples to become\nindependent of him, and rely on their own perfected reason; from\nChrist His disciples always derive nourishment, as the branches from\nthe vine. And if the relation of Christ to His disciples, conceived\nonly as a living Saviour walking on the earth, was so much closer than\nthat of Socrates to his disciples, how much more intimate does the\nrelation become, when He who lived and died to redeem humanity from\nsin rose from the dead as a living guarantee that all who walked in\nHis ways, should follow up their redemption from sin by a speedy\nvictory over that yet stronger enemy. Death![200.1] From the moment\nthat the resurrection stood amongst the disciples as an accepted fact,\nthe Founder of the religion was not merely a wonder-working man, a\nprophet and the greatest of all the prophets, but He was an altogether\nexceptional and miraculous Person, either {201} God in some mysterious\nway combined into an incorporate unity with man, or at least a Person\nthat, compared with the common type and expression of humanity, might\npass for God. The influence which the belief in the actual existence\nof such a human, and yet in so many regards superhuman, character as\nthe Founder of their faith, must have exercised on the early preachers\nof the gospel, cannot easily be over-estimated. Plato and Plotinus\noften talk of the raptures with which the human soul would be thrilled\nif not only, as now, the shadows and types of the Beautiful, but the\nvery absolute Beautiful itself, the \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd, stood\nrevealed to mortal sight. But granting for the moment that the\nmanifestation of such a vague abstraction is possible, it is quite\ncertain that, when manifested, it could not possibly act upon men with\nanything like the power of a human Christ actually risen from the\ndead. Man, with all his range of imagination, is at bottom as much\nconcrete as any creature, and as little capable of being moved by mere\nabstractions. Jesus Christ, and Him crucified; Christ risen from the\ndead; believe in Him--this was the short summation of that preaching\nof the gospel which regenerated the then world, lying as it did in all\nsorts of wickedness. See how emphatically the resurrection is alluded\nto as the main anchor in all the early preachings of the Apostles\n(Acts ii. 32; iii. 15; iv. 2; v. 30, etc.) And as to St. Paul, he\ndeclares again and again that if Christ be not risen, the faith of\nChristians is vain, and those to whom the world was indebted for its\nmoral regeneration were justly to be accounted amongst the most\nmiserable of men; a method of speaking which plainly implies that, in\nthe Apostle\u2019s {202} estimation, the firm fact of a risen Saviour was\nthe only real assurance that Christians had of a life beyond the\ngrave. So true is the utterance of a distinguished modern divine that\n\u201cthe resurrection was the central point of the apostolic teaching,\nnay more, the central point of history, primarily of religious\nhistory, of which it is the soul. The resurrection is the one central\nlink between the seen and the unseen.\u201d[202.1] Let this, therefore,\nstand firm as the main principle of any just exposition of the\nmachinery by which the ethics of the gospel achieved the conquest of\nthe world. The Church--\u201cthe peculiar people zealous for good\nworks,\u201d of whom St. Peter speaks--was formed out of the world not by\nthe clear cogency of logical arguments, but by the vivid belief in\nmiraculous facts.\n\nBut the miraculous personality of the teacher, however essential to\nthe proclamation and reception of the teaching, was not the teaching\nitself. There were doctrines of an essentially theological character,\nand strong emotions that only religion could excite, which operated\nalong with the unique personality of the Founder in laying a firm\nfoundation for the ethics of the gospel. The most important of these\ndoctrines was the doctrine of the unity of the Godhead. This is a\nmatter with which in Christian countries we are now so familiar that\nnot a few find it difficult to realize how prominent an element it was\nin the Christian creed, and how powerful must have been its action in\nthe creation of a new school of morals in the midst of the heathen\nworld. By the Fathers of the Church, however, in the first and second\ncenturies, the ethical virtue of this element {203} was never\noverlooked; they knew only too well, from their own personal\nexperience most of them, and all of them by what they saw written in\nthe habits and maxims of a corrupt society, how easily Polytheism had\nlent itself to draw a beautiful veil over what was ugly, and to stamp\nthe most debasing vices with consecration. Philosophers, like\nXenophanes and Plato, in whose breasts these things had long ago\nroused a rebellious indignation, might well despair of converting to a\npure morality a people who, though they might be sober on all the\nother days of the year, would think it necessary, as an act of piety,\nto appear publicly intoxicated on the feast of Dionysus. The salt of\ngoodness, it is quite true, which kept the body of Polytheism so long\nfrom rotting, has often been overlooked, principally by the\nexaggeration of Christian writers, seldom remarkable for candour; and\nthe early Fathers of the Church, engaged, as they were, in actual\nwarfare with the many-headed foe, may well be excused if their zeal\nwas not always accompanied by that fairness to which even error is\nentitled. But with the most honest purpose to do justice to the moral\nelement of Polytheism, as we may find it exhibited most favourably\nperhaps in the living pictures of the Homeric poems, it cannot be\ndenied that the obvious deduction from the Polytheistic creed was, in\nall cases to palliate, in some cases even to justify, vice; and that\nthis deduction was often made we may gather from the familiar fact\nthat the most illogical people even now suddenly become very acute\nreasoners, the moment it is necessary to defend their prejudices, or\nto protest against the amendment of their faults. In a system of\nfaith, where every {204} instinct had its god, and every passion its\npatron-saint, it required either a rare training, or a remarkably\nhealthy habit of mind to keep the low and the high in their just seats\nof subordination and supremacy. No doubt the more imperative moral\nvirtues to a well-constituted Heathen mind were conceived as\nrepresented by Jove, who was the real moral governor of the world; and\nthe supremacy of Zeus in Olympus was a sufficient assertion of the\nsuperiority which belongs to the moral law in the little republic of\nthe soul: but as the son of Kronos in the Greek heaven was only a\nlimited monarch, and often, as the Iliad plainly indicates, obliged to\nwink at the contravention of his own commands by the unruly\naristocracy of the skies, so Polytheism could never invest the \u03c4\u1f78\n\u1f21\u03b3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd--the regulating principle of the soul--with the\nabsolute sovereignty which to its nature rightfully belongs.\nChristianity, as an essentially monotheistic faith, applied a perfect\nremedy to this evil. The highest part of man\u2019s nature was now the\nonly sacred part. The flesh, so far from being glorified and\nworshipped, was denounced, degraded, and desecrated as a synonym for\nall corruption. The deification of mere sensuous pleasures, which with\nPolytheists had passed for orthodox, was now impossible; the moral law\nbecame supreme; and surely the sanction which this law requires can\nnever be conceived in more imperative terms than as the distinctly\nenunciated command of the all-powerful, all-wise, and all-beneficent\nFather of the human family. No sanction, deduced from a mere reasoning\nprocess, can ever approach this in broad practical efficiency. It is\nthe impersonated, incarnated, and enthroned Reason, to which all {205}\nreasonable creatures owe an instinctive and a necessary obedience.\n\nBut there is another corollary to a monotheistic creed, which, in\nestimating the influence of Christian faith on Christian Ethics, is by\nno means to be overlooked. If there is only one God, the father of the\nwhole human race, then there is only one family; all men are brethren;\nnationality ceases; philanthropy, or love of men in the widest sense\nof the word, becomes natural; mere patriotism has now only a relative\nvalue; Leonidas is no longer the model hero; the Jew is no longer of\nthe one chosen people; and the Greek, full of wisdom, and full of\nconceit, must condescend to call the ignorant barbarian his brother.\nThis breaking down of the middle wall of partition between Jew and\nGentile, between every nation and its neighbour, removed two of the\ngreatest obstructions which have ever stood in the way of a generous\nmorality, in the shape of what Lord Bacon would have called idols of\nthe place and of the race; these idols could be worshipped no longer;\nand no shibboleth of separation could be mumbled to consecrate the\nunreasonable prejudices which every nation is so apt to entertain\nagainst its neighbour. No doubt towards the propagation of these\ncatholic and cosmopolitan principles, ancient philosophy also, and\nspecially Stoicism, contributed its share;[205.1] the consolidation of\nthe Roman empire and the policy of the Roman emperors worked in the\nsame direction; {206} but the monotheistic creed of the Christian\nChurch, proclaimed with such dignity and moral courage by St. Paul in\nhis discourse on the Hill of Mars, supplied the only effective\nleverage. Compared with what the preaching of St. Paul did for the\ngrand idea, of humanity and fraternity, all that modern science,\nmodern political theories, modern commerce, and modern philosophies\nhave achieved or may yet achieve, can only be counted as a very small\nsupplement.\n\nThe immortality of the soul, the second coming of Christ, and the\nfinal judgment of the world, form together a group of doctrines, the\nrelation of which to moral practice is too deeply felt to require much\ndiscussion in this place. Perhaps, however, everybody does not\nsufficiently consider how peculiarly Christian these doctrines are,\nand how the belief in them, and the moral issues of such belief, must\nnecessarily stand and fall with the faith in some such historical\nreligion as has hitherto formed the framework of the Churches of\nChristendom. For however these doctrines might be dimly conceived and\nvaguely believed by the people who wrote D. M. upon their tombstones,\nand however solemnly imagined and grandly depicted they were in the\neloquent discourses of the great philosopher of Idealism, there are\nfew mistakes greater than to accept these dim conceptions and grand\nimaginings as a proof that the doctrine of the immortality of the\nsoul, as a point of Polytheistic faith, performed the same function in\nmoulding the morality of the ancient Greeks and Romans that it does at\nthe present day among modern Christian peoples. A single\nquotation--one of the most trite--from Homer {207} will suffice to\nshow how utterly unfounded such an idea is. In the Cimmerian visit to\nthe unseen world, the wandering king of Ithaca is made to encounter\nthe hot thane of Thessaly, pacing with a stately fierceness through\nthe Elysian fields, like a king among the shades. On being\ncomplimented to this effect by his visitor, the son of Peleus\nreplies--\n\n \u201cName me not death with praiseful words, noble Ulysses; I\n Would sooner be a bonded serf, the labourer\u2019s tool to ply\n To a small cottar on the heath with wealth exceeding small,\n Than be the Lord of all the Shades in Pluto\u2019s gloomy hall.\u201d\n\nA people who could think and speak thus of the state of souls after\ndeparture from the body, could not derive much practical advantage\nfrom belief in immortality. That belief indeed was held so loosely by\nthe mass of the Greek people that it may rather be described as a dim\nimagination than as a definite conviction. People were rather\nunwilling to believe that their beloved human friends had vanished\ninto the realm of nothingness, than convinced that they had gone to\nwhere on any account it would be at all desirable to go. To a few\nselect heroes no doubt, men like Menelaus, of divine extraction, and\ndivine affinity, a really enviable abode after death in the cloudless\nand stormless islands of the blest was by popular tradition assigned;\na few perpetrators also of enormous crimes, red-hand murderers, open\nblasphemers, and traitors who sold their country for gold were\nconsigned for ever to the ensanguined scourge of the Furies in those\nflaring regions which the genius of Virgil and Dante has so vividly\nportrayed; but if the belief in these exceptional cases inspired some\nto acts of unwonted heroism and {208} deterred others from deeds of\nabhorred foulness, the very good and the very bad in the world are too\nfew in number to admit of the idea that the motives which either stir\nthem to acts of exceptive virtue or deter them from acts of abnormal\ncrime should have any influence in determining the conduct of the\ngreat masses. And as for the philosophers, it was Socrates only and\nPlato who in their teaching gave any special emphasis to the doctrine\nof the immortality of the soul; and no man who has read the most\nfamiliar accounts of the defence which the former delivered to the\njury at his trial, or of his last moments as reported by Plato in the\n_Ph\u00e6do_, can have carried off the impression that the great father of\nmoral philosophy taught that doctrine with any dogmatic decision or\ncertainty. We must say therefore, with Dr. Paley, who, though\nincapable of sounding great depths, had a very clear head, and was a\nvery sensible man, that it was the gospel, and the gospel alone, which\n\u201cbrought life and immortality to light,\u201d and with it introduced\nwhatever real power in elevating or strengthening the moral nature of\nman such a doctrine, when held as a habitual conviction, must exercise\nover the masses of men. What Socrates contemplated calmly as a\nprobable contingency, St Paul and the early Christians gloried in as a\ngrand culmination and a triumphant result. And the effective influence\nof this firm faith on society has been to give an infinitely greater\ndignity to human life, to increase infinitely the moral worth of the\nindividual, and to add a support of wonderful efficacy to those states\nand stages of toilsome existence which stand so much in need of such\nhopeful consolation. That it has always acted, and {209} must always\nact, as a strong aid to virtuous conduct can scarcely be denied,\nthough they of course are poor philosophers and ignoble men who think\nthat virtue could not possibly exist in the world without the belief\nin immortality. There are many motives that force the masses of men to\nbe virtuous, according to the respectable righteousness of the Scribes\nand Pharisees, altogether independent of any prospect of rewards and\npunishments in a future state; and as for men of a more than commonly\ndelicate moral sensibility--persons to whom a life in baseness and\nfoulness would under any conditions be intolerable--it is not to be\nimagined that they would be more virtuous from the prospect of an\neternity of bliss, than they are from the fear of a short season of\nshame. These men will always live nobly, for the same reason that\nwhatever they do they must do well. If they play cricket, they will\nplay a good game; if they ride, they will ride well; and if they boat,\nthey will boat well; and, for the same reason, if they live, they will\nlive well--not because they expect a reward, but because they have no\npleasure in living badly. To them vice is always rottenness,\nputrescence, and loathsomeness; and no man will consciously condemn\nhimself to these who knows what soundness means.\n\nThere is one marked peculiarity about Christian Ethics, growing\ndirectly out of a religious root, and closely connected with certain\ntheological doctrines, which, though indicated in some of the previous\nparagraphs, demands special mention here. We mean what Dr. Chalmers\ncalled its aggressive attitude. The idea of Duty is not necessarily\naggressive; a man may perform his duty quietly, as the spheres {210}\nmove in their orbits, without daring, or even desiring, to meddle with\nthe movements of other members of the great social machine. Even\nChristian Churches in quiet and flat times, as the last century for\ninstance, have been known to content themselves with the unobtrusive\nperformance of a certain round of familiar pieties, undisturbed by any\ndesire to make moral inroads into the domain of remote or even\nadjacent heathenism. But this is certainly not the normal or\nflourishing state of any Christian Church; not the natural state\nindeed of any sect or society, whether religious or philosophical,\nprofessing to possess a healing medicine for the cure of diseased\nsouls. We accordingly found in the first discourse that Socrates was\nin his attitude, however pleasant and playful on the surface, at\nbottom very earnestly aggressive; it was this aggressiveness, in fact,\nthat raised up against him the hostility of those spiteful little\nindividuals to whom more than to popular ill-will he owed his\nmartyr-death. He asserted, as we have seen, a divine mission, and\nacted as a missionary, though always in the manner of a reasoner\nrather than as a preacher. But the aggressive element in early\nChristianity was much stronger than in Socrates; as any one may see at\na glance by comparing the biographical career of St. Paul with that of\nthe Athenian philosopher. And the causes of this were more than one.\nIn the first place, the whole Hebrew nature was more fervid, more\nimpassioned, more prophetic than the Hellenic; and again, the\nautocratic character which belongs to all monotheism, imparted to the\nmoral message of the missionaries an urgency and a lofty intolerance,\nwhich in an atmosphere compounded of polytheism in its lower {211}\nsphere and of logic in its upper sphere was impossible. A divine\ncommand superadded to fervid human sympathies necessarily creates a\nmission in the person who is the subject of them; but the divine\ncommand is much more stringent from an autocratic Jehovah than from a\nlimited monarch like Jove, and the fervour of human sympathy is more\nintense in proportion as the offence of the rebels against the\nsovereign authority is looked upon as more heinous. We are brought\nback therefore again to the great doctrine of the Divine Unity, if we\nwould make it fully evident to ourselves why St. Paul was so much more\naggressive than Socrates: Socrates was only partly a missionary, and\nthe messenger of a god whose authority was limited by an inferior but\nacknowledged authority in other gods; St. Paul was a missionary of the\none true God, to whose authority there could be no limit, and to whose\ncommand there could be no contradiction. From this principle of divine\nautocracy there necessarily grew up the conception of sin, not as\nfolly merely and imperfection, but as contumacy, rebellion, and\ntreason; and the conviction of the exceeding sinfulness of sin and the\nexceeding misery of the sinner became the strongest spur to the\nmissionary activity of the Christian preachers, and gave a true moral\nsublimity to an aggressive attitude, which in a mere reasoner had\nappeared impertinent. Nothing indeed is more remarkable than the\ncontrast between the strong colours in which sin is painted by the\nwriters of the New Testament and its more venial aspect in the mild\nregard of the philosopher. Aristotle can surrender a whole generation\nof young men to the dominion of \u03c0\u03ac\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2 and think nothing more\nabout it. {212} They are as incapable of moral ideas, these young\nsensualists, as swine are of cleanliness; let them wallow in the mire\nfor a season; we shall speak to them, when they have outgrown their\nanimalism. But the converted Pharisee who wrote his burning epistles\nto the young Christian churches in magnificent Rome and luxurious\nEphesus used very different language. Sin with him is a very serious\noffence, on account of which the curse of God lies on the whole world.\nSinners, whether old or young, are by nature the children of wrath;\nand by the act and fact of the transgression of divine law, so utterly\ncast down and degraded from the proper human dignity, that they\nrequire to be born again, and baptized with a fire-baptism before they\ncan be purified from their foulness and restored to the original\nrights and privileges which belonged to them, as to all men, in right\nof their divine fatherhood. Hence the strongly accentuated opposition\nbetween flesh and spirit (Romans vii. viii.; 1 Pet. iv. 3, 4) which no\ndoubt Aristotle, as we have seen above, also mentions; but in the\nStagirite it is only an incidental recognition; in the New Testament\nit is a pervading and overwhelming power, a force which possesses the\natmosphere, a moral storm, which, swooping violently down from the\ndark-throned seat of the Supreme Regent, tears the cloak of\nself-righteousness from the shivering sinner, and exposes him in all\nhis bareness. Plato also and Plotinus use very Christian language when\nthey tell us that to be partakers of true moral beauty the soul\nrequires a \u03ba\u03ac\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 or purification from its natural or\nacquired foulness, and that the necessity of this purification was\nsymbolically indicated in the {213} mysteries.[213.1] Very true; but\nhere again Plato wrote calmly for the few, Paul preached fervidly for\nthe many. And this word _purification_, as connected with the\nChristian idea of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the necessity\nof an ingrafting of a higher moral life by the operation of the Divine\nSpirit, leads me necessarily to specialize the doctrine of the\nAtonement as performing a peculiar function in the ethical attitude\nand moral efficiency of the gospel. The doctrine of the Atonement\narises as the necessary consequence of the Christian conception of sin\nas a polluting, perverting, rebellious, and treasonable principle. An\nerror is reasoned away, but filth must be washed away; guilt must be\natoned; the offender must pray for forgiveness; and the free grace of\nthe Sovereign must restore the traitor to the place and the protection\nwhich belong to him as a loyal subject. Put into a strictly articulate\nform, this doctrine of atonement, not less than its correlative the\nexceeding sinfulness of sin, especially when pushed to its extreme of\nlogical consistency by the so-called federal theologians, is apt to\ngive, and has always given, more or less just cause of offence to\nspeculative minds; but in that broad practical aspect in which it was\noriginally presented to the world, before men began to turn a fervid\nfaith into a curious theology, there can be no doubt that it operated\nmost beneficially in intensifying that hatred of sin which is the\nmother of all {214} holiness, and in enabling many a guilt-laden soul\nto start on the career of a regenerate life with a comfortable\nlightness and an unfettered speed, which from no other source could\nhave flowed so readily.\n\nThe plan of this discourse leads us in the next place to consider the\nindividual virtues to which, by their radical connexion with religion\nand a theological creed, Christian Ethics have shown a preference. But\nbefore attempting this it is obvious to remark how, by the atmosphere\nof piety in which they grow, and the theological soil in which they\nare rooted, the Christian virtues, as a whole and individually, are\nelevated to a much higher platform than belongs to any system of mere\nmoral philosophy; and from this point of view we can understand how\nthe divines of the school called Evangelical have been led to look\ndown with such contempt as they generally do on every form of\nChristian preaching in which a round of mere moral duties is held up\nas in itself capable of performing the functions of a truly Christian\nlife. The Evangelicals, narrow and bigoted as they too often are,\nespecially in points of artificial and traditional orthodoxy, which\nthey are unable to separate from the essence of the gospel, were quite\nright in this matter. It is not the mere duties performed, but the\nmotives from which, and the inspiration by which, they are performed,\nthat make the moral life of a truly Christian man so excellent. It is\nnot merely that he is morally correct in all his intercourse with his\nfellow-men; not merely that he is richly furnished perhaps with all\nthose born amiabilities which an acute Scotch speculator has\ndesignated as but the painted masks of virtue;[214.1] {215} the world\nmay shower its plaudits on such cheap forms of native goodness as\nloudly as it pleases; Christian morality, by virtue of its lofty\nreligious inspiration, aims at something more; the mere righteousness\nof the Scribes and Pharisees it looks upon as an attainment utterly\nunworthy of a high moral ambition, as a vulgar something, the\ncontentment with which would indicate an entire absence of that pure\nmoral ideal, with the acknowledgment of which a religious morality--a\nsystem of ethics founded on the worship of the one true God--must\nnecessarily start. Whatever morality the world may possess, as\nabsolutely indispensable for the common movements of the social\nmachine, Christianity, of course, accepts, but makes no account of in\nits characteristic appeals. It is rather the low maxims, the false\nauthorities, and the spurious virtues, mixed up with the vulgar\nmorality of the many, that it most mercilessly exposes and protests\nagainst. \u201c_Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed in\nthe renewing of your minds_.\u201d \u201c_But you are an elect people, a\nroyal priesthood, a holy nation_.\u201d Such is the lofty tone which it\nassumes, and from the days of St. Paul to Xavier and Howard has\njustified the assumption amply by its deeds. It aspires not merely to\nbe moral; it would be the poetry of morality in a world where prose is\nthe common currency. It intends to hold up to the whole human family a\ndivine ideal of social heroism, which may some day be universally\nadmired but which never can be universally enacted.\n\nLet us now look at the beautiful portraiture of the Christian man in\nthe detail of his most characteristic virtues.\n\nAnd first, as the starting-point here, we must {216} observe that the\nChristian is pre-eminently equipped with that self-denial and\nself-control, and what we generally call strength of character, which\nare the necessary postulates of all moral excellence. A man who will\ntake the world easily will never take it grandly; \u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03c0\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f70\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03ac\u00b7 _omnia pr\u00e6clara tam difficilia quam rara sunt:_ all\nexcellent things are difficult; the Christian recognises the\ndifficulty, but delights in it as the stout old Roman did in the foes\nwhich added fuel to his victories, or as the strong modern engineer\ndoes in mountains, that he may show the triumph of his art in boring\nthrough them or winding round them. Modern sensualists and preachers\nof the low doctrine that pleasure is the only good have delighted to\nfling discredit on this grand Christian virtue of self-denial, as if\nanything great ever was performed without it. The man of genius denies\nhimself in a thousand ways that he may work out a perfect body for the\nimaginary ideals which possess him; the great soldier denies himself\nthrough leagues of hardship that he may repel the rude invader and\npreserve the honour of his country unstained; and the man of virtue\nmust deny himself also, if virtue is a thing which a creature of high\nenterprise and lofty purpose may reasonably have to do with. To lie in\nthe lap of pleasure may be the highest enjoyment of which a feeble\ncharacter is capable; the alternation betwixt sensuous languor and\nsensuous excitement may be the only grateful change of which a\npredominantly sensuous nature can be made to partake; but a strong man\nmust have something difficult to do; and the strong Christian man has\nto \u201cwork out his salvation with fear and trembling;\u201d to mortify\nthe body, lest being overindulged {217} it should learn to be the\nmaster instead of the servant of the soul; and \u201claying aside every\nweighty and the sin which more easily besets him,\u201d learn to \u201crun\nwith patience the race which is set before him.\u201d What race? The race\nof realizing as much goodness as possible in his own personal life\nlend in the life of that society of which he is a part, by the twofold\nprocess of nursing virtues and weeding out vices: an ideal which never\ncan be reached by those who commence life, after the Epicurean\nfashion, with a low calculation of pleasures and pains, but by those\nonly who we inspired by the vision of what Plato preached as divine\nideas, and Paul as divine commands. The recognition of a divine ideal\nin some shape or other is the first step to the prosecution of a\ndivine life; and this alone can supply the inspiration which makes\ndifficulty easy, educes pleasure from pain, and converts the most\nsevere acts of self-denial into the materials of an elevating warfare,\nand the occasion of a glorious triumph.\n\nVery closely connected with the stern self-denial and the manly\nstrength of character so conspicuous in the first Christians was their\nmoral courage. It requires very little knowledge of the world and\nexperience of life to be made aware, in the case of those who are\ncapable of being made aware of these things, that the general habitude\nof the world is not moral courage, but moral cowardice. The majority\nof men, like the majority of dogs I presume, are not physical cowards;\nthe dog is naturally a fighting animal, and so is man. But that the\nmajority of men are moral cowards is certain. No consideration is so\npowerful with schoolboys as that of being laughed at for any\nsingularity in dress or appearance; the slavery of {218} fashion among\ngrown-up persons is founded partly on the same dread; and the fear of\nstanding in a minority restrains many a man in public life from giving\nvoice to a salutary truth, and planting a gag on the barking mouth of\npopular error. I have myself been present at meetings of corporate\nbodies, where I gave my suffrage, confident that I was right in acting\nconsistently on a plain principle of common honesty; and after the\nvote was taken I was told confidentially by some of those who had\nvoted against my views, that they had a strong conviction I was in the\nright, only they could not venture to vote with me in the face of such\nan overwhelming majority! This is the moral courage of the world.\n\u2018Have any of the Scribes and Pharisees believed in him? If so, we\nwill speak out; if not, we keep silence.\u2019 This tendency to follow\nauthority is in many persons, no doubt, the necessary consequence of\ntheir own ignorance; ignorance is always afraid, and it knows by a\nsure instinct that its only safety lies in being led by superior\nknowledge. This no one can blame. But when a man acts against his own\nconviction in giving his vote as a member of a corporate body, or in a\npolitical assembly, to shield himself from the indignation or to gain\nthe favour of an unreasonable multitude,--when, as in pure democracy,\nthe question of right and wrong never comes before a man at all, but\nthe one rule of political life simply is to submit to what such and\nsuch a local majority may choose to dictate,--this is sheer cowardice\nand simple slavery, from which a man of honourable and independent\nmind, not tainted with the baseness of democratic life, must shrink\nwith abhorrence. And so in fact we do find that in democratic\ncountries, where all {219} things are controlled by political cliques,\nwho dictate the local policy, to which the puppet called a Member of\nParliament, or a Deputy, is expected to swear, men of independent\nspirit, manly courage, and large intelligence are found systematically\nto shrink from the arena. How different from this demoralizing miasma\nis the atmosphere which we breathe in the New Testament! There a\nsingle manly individual stands forward, and in the name of God\nsolemnly calls upon men to renounce the dearly-cherished errors, and\nto trample under foot the warmly-worshipped idols of a whole people.\n\u201c_If it be lawful in the sight of God to hearken unto men rather\nthan unto God, judge ye!_\u201d This is what Peter said, speaking the\ntruth boldly, in the face of roaring multitudes, frowning dignitaries,\nand lines of bristling lances. A religion in which such rare manhood\nwas as common as cowardice is common in general society, if it was not\ncrushed in the bud, as Protestantism was in Bohemia, could not but\ngrow up to a mighty tree in the end. The stoical death of the\ngladiators in the Colosseum was wont to draw admiration, and sometimes\neven to extort pity, from the spectators; but their death was\ncompulsory, and the stoicism of their last moments only a theatrical\ngrace to fall decently before an applauding multitude. The Christian,\non the other hand, whether as a fearless preacher or as an unflinching\nmartyr, made a voluntary protest, and chose a self-imposed torture. If\nhe was not a fool or a madman, he was a hero; and the heroism he\ndisplayed was of such a high order, that being repeated only for a\ngeneration or two, it caused the combined force of popular prejudice\nand traditional authority in the heathen world to blush itself into a\n{220} not unwilling subjection. So much of lofty courage and of\ngenuine manhood did subtle Greece and powerful Rome learn from the\nmoral missionaries of poor and despised Palestine!\n\nLet us now cast a glance on that most characteristic and most widely\nbruited of all the Christian virtues, viz., LOVE; which under the\nname of Charity (not \u1f1c\u03c1\u03c9\u03c2, the old satellite of Venus, but\n\u1f00\u03b3\u03ac\u03c0\u03b7), St. Paul in a famous chapter eulogizes as at once the\ncrown and the epitome of all virtues most peculiarly Christian. We\nread also that \u201cLove is the fulfilling of the law;\u201d and a\nwatchword so deliberately chosen and so emphatically sounded must\nalways be pregnant with significance as to the moral character and\nefficiency of the religion to which it belongs. Now the plain\nsignificance which this blazon bears on the face of it is this, that\nif Love be the blossom of all virtue, the root of all vice is the\nopposite of Love, viz., Selfishness. And whosoever has looked into the\nmoral world with any faculty of generalizing, will not fail to have\nobserved that every form of vice is only a diverse manifestation of\nthat untempered, voracious, and altogether monstrous egotism, which,\nin order to purchase for itself a slight advantage or a momentary\ntitillation, would not scruple to plunge a whole universe into\ndisorder and ruin; while, on the other hand, the virtuous man lives as\nmuch by sympathy with the desires of others as by the gratification of\nhis own, and is ready at any moment to dash the bowl of blessedness\nfrom his lips, if he must purchase it by the consignment to misery of\na singly human soul. And if we look at the lower organism of society,\nwe shall find, that as in the republic of science knowledge prospers\nexactly in proportion as {221} the pure love of truth prevails, so in\ncommunities of human beings, the measure of the amount of that\nbrotherly love which man feels to man, taken in its intensity and in\nits diffusion, furnishes an exact test of the amount of moral\nexcellence and consequent happiness--as distinguished from mere\nmaterial prosperity--which is found in any place. The greatest\ndifficulties, indeed, which society has to encounter, spring\nfundamentally from a deficiency of brotherly love,--from every grade\nof carelessness, indifference, and coldness, down to niggardliness,\nshabbiness, and the wretched mania of hoarding jealously what he who\nhoards is afraid to use. Poor-laws, for instance, which are generally\nlooked upon as a necessary evil, exist only because those social\nassociations to which the administration of charity naturally belongs,\nviz., in a Christian country the Christian churches, are not powerful\nor zealous enough adequately to do their duty in relieving human\nmisery; that is to say, because Love, which is professedly the soul of\nthose associations, is either not intense enough where it exists, or\nnot sufficiently diffused, to provide the necessary aid; and thus\npeople are driven to supply the want of voluntary love in the\ncommunity by the exaction of compulsory rates, which may, indeed, save\na few individuals from starvation, but which certainly produce the\ndouble evil of weakening the healthy habit of self-support through all\nclasses of the community, and of stopping the fountain-heads of that\nnatural flow of brotherly aid, which is a virtue only so long as it is\nvoluntary. Now to this selfishness, which may without exaggeration be\ntermed the endemic taint of all human associations, Christianity has\napplied the antidote of Love, in the {222} triple form of love to\nChrist, love to the brethren, and love to the human race;--love to\nChrist as the incarnate type of unselfish benevolence and noble\nself-sacrifice; love to the brethren as fellow-soldiers in the same\nglorious human campaign; love to all men, as sheep of one common fold,\nwhich the further they have strayed the more diligently they are to be\nsought for. How much more intensely and extensively than in any other\nassociation this Love has operated in the Christian churches, from the\ndays of Dorcas and her weeping widows down to Florence Nightingale and\nher Crimean campaign, need not be told; nine-tenths of the most active\nbenevolence of the day in this country are Christian in their origin\nand in their character; and even those persons the favourite\nwatchwords of whose social ethics are borrowed not from Christ but\nfrom Epicurus, will be found to have added a strange grace to the\nphilosophy which they profess by a light borrowed from the religion\nwhich they disown. And if we inquire what are the causes of this\nsuperior prominence given to active benevolence in the Christian\nscheme of ethics, we shall find, as in other instances, that the\npeculiar character of the ethical fruit depends on the root of\nreligion by which the plant is nourished, and the theological soil in\nwhich it was planted. For surely it requires very little thought to\nperceive that the root of all that surpassing love of the human\nbrotherhood lies in the well-known opening words of the most catholic\nof prayers--\u201c_Our_ FATHER _which art in Heaven;_\u201d the aspect\nalso of sin as a contumacy and a rebellion, and a guilt drawing down a\ncurse, necessarily led to a more aggressive philanthropy, with the\nview {223} of achieving deliverance from that curse; but, above all,\nthe doctrine of the immortality of the soul, and the terrible\nconsequences necessarily involved in the idea of an eternal banishment\nfrom the sunshine of the Divine presence, has created an amount of\nsocial benevolence and missionary zeal which under any less potent\nstimulus would have been impossible. The miseries of the more\nneglected and outcast part of humanity present an entirely different\naspect to the calm Epicurean and to the zealous Christian. To the\nChristian the soul of the meanest savage and of the most degraded\ncriminal is still an immortal soul. As when a conflagration bursts out\nin a high turret, where a little child is sleeping within the near\nenswathment of the flames, some adventurous fireman boldly climbs the\nladder, and rushing through the suffocating smoke, snatches the little\ninnocent from the embrace of destruction; so the Christian apostle\nflings himself into the eager host of idolatrous worshippers, and\nrejoices with exceeding joy when he saves if it were but one poor soul\nfrom the jaws of the destroying Siva to whom he was sold. But, as\nmen\u2019s actions are the offspring of their convictions, the Epicurean\nwill find no spur strong enough to shake him out of his easy-chair at\nsuch a spectacle of human degradation. Let the poor sinner be\nworshipping Siva on the banks of the Ganges, or committing slow\nsuicide by what, in the language of the Celtic islands, is strangely\ncalled the water of life,[223.1] your easy sensuous philosopher needs\nnot vex himself about the matter. _Poor idiot! poor sot! poor devil!\nwith his little feeble flame of smoky light which he calls life, let\nhim flicker on another moment, or let him be_ {224} _snuffed out, it\nmatters not; another bubble has burst on the surface of the waters,\nand the mighty ocean of cosmic vitality flows on as full and as free\nand as fathomless as before!_\n\nIn the estimation of Christian love one of the most interesting points\nis its strongly pronounced contrast with what has been called Platonic\nlove. As for that which is commonly called love in novels and in life,\nthough capable of affording a very exquisite bliss in its little\nseason, it is a matter with which mere puberty and the bloom of\nphysical life has so much to do, that except in the way of regulation\n(which is anything but an easy matter), it does not come under the\ncategory of morals at all; only this general remark may be made with\nregard to it, that in all well-conditioned human beings it springs\noriginally from a certain affinity of souls shining through the body,\nas much as from the mere attractions of physical beauty; and in so far\nas this is the case, the purely physical instinct is elevated into the\nsphere of genuine Platonic love. Now, what is Platonic love? As\ndescribed by the great philosopher of Idealism in the _Ph\u00e6drus_, its\nroot lies plainly in the rapturous admiration of excellence, and its\nconsummation in the metamorphosis of the admirer into the perfect\nlikeness of that which he admires; whereas Christian love, most\ncharacteristically so called, has its root in an infinite depth of\ndivine tenderness, and for its fruit broad streams of human pity and\ngrand deeds of human kindness. Platonic love is more contemplative and\nartistic; Christian love more practical and more fruitful; the one is\nthe luxury of an intellectual imagination, the other the appetite of a\nmoral enthusiasm.\n\n{225}\n\nIt would be doing injustice to Christian love, however, to suppose\nthat it has nothing at all in common with intellectual admiration, and\nthat its only spring of movement is pity. \u201cVisiting the fatherless\nand widows in their affliction,\u201d though in our present imperfect\nstate the most characteristic, is not absolutely the most essential,\nfeature in its exercise. If it were so, indeed, the Christian would\nnever be comfortable except in the midst of misery; as a nurse can ply\nher vocation only at the bed of the sick or the wounded. But in fact\nhis infinite tenderness for the lost sinner is produced and heightened\nby his experience of joy from communion with saints; and the\ncontemplation and imitation of the image of moral perfection in the\nperson of the great Captain of his salvation sustains him in his\nunwearied and often apparently hopeless endeavours to gather in\nrecruits to serve under that so glorious captainship. We shall\ntherefore justly say that without a Platonic love, that is, a fine\nspiritual passion for the character and person of Christ, the\nperformance of the thousand and one works of social charity and mercy\nfor which the Christian is so famous would be impossible. But we may\nsay further, that the picture of Charity given in that wonderful\nchapter of St. Paul is very far from confining the sphere of Christian\nhuman-heartedness to that field of healing and of comforting in which\nso many charitable institutions in all Christian countries are the\nwatch-towers. His picture evidently exhibits the ideal of a human\nbeing, not merely in the habit of lifting the fallen, healing the\nsick, and ministering, as the good Samaritan did, to those who may\nhave fallen into the hand of robbers--these are extraordinary {226}\noccurrences, which will excite even the most sluggish to extraordinary\ndemonstrations of human sympathy,--but the apostle of the Gentiles\nwill have it that in our daily intercourse with our fellow-men we\nlearn to live their lives sympathetically as intimately and as\ncompletely as we live our own; that we study on all occasions to\nidentify ourselves with their position and feelings and interests, and\nthen only pass a judgment on their conduct. \u201c_Charity suffereth long,\nand is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not\npuffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is\nnot easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but\nrejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things,\nhopeth all things, endureth all things_.\u201d What a problem is here,\nwhat a lesson of humanity, of catholicity, and of something far more\nhuman than that mere toleration, which the nations of Christendom have\ntaken now nearly two thousand years to learn, since the first\npreaching of the gospel, and are scarcely learning even now! How much\nof our daily judgments, spoken and printed, seems leavened in any\ndegree by the genuine humanity and manifest justice of this divine\nideal? \u201cSpeaking the truth in love\u201d is the acknowledged law of\nChristian intercourse; speaking lies in hatred were often a more\nappropriate text for certain large sections of British practice. We\nought to pass judgment against our brother on our knees, fearful to\noffend; we do it rather, not seldom with pride and insolence and\nimpertinence, mounted on the triumphal car of our own conceit, riding\nrough-shod over the real or imagined faults of our brother. So far\ndoes the ideal of Christian love, in the preaching of the {227}\nChristian apostle, transcend its reality in the lives of men who, if\nnot Christians, at least breathe a Christian atmosphere, and ought to\nhave received some benefit from the inhalation!\n\nFORGIVENESS OF INJURIES is one of the special fruits of Christian\ncharity, which has never been denied its due meed of acknowledgment,\nthough not unaccompanied sometimes with the sarcastic observation that\nthe pious zeal of Christian men has generally been more apt to flame\ninto hatred than their love to blossom into forgiveness. No man has\nyet been able to say of Christians generally, as one may often have\nremarked justly of Quaker ladies, that they have too much milk in\ntheir blood; nor do British and French and German wars seem to have\nabated very much in intensity for the want of a Christian text\nsaying--_Thou shalt love thy friends and hate thine enemies!_ Perhaps,\nalso, some scholar may be able to string together from the pages of\nrare old Plutarch a longer chain of pretty specimens of lofty\nforgiveness of enemies than can readily be picked from modern\nChristian biographies. In the life of Pericles, by that mellow old\nB\u0153otian, I remember to have read that on one occasion this great\nstatesman had to endure for a whole day in the agora a succession of\nimpertinent and irritating attacks from one of those waspish little\ncreatures who love to infest the presence of goodness; and he endured\nit with such untroubled composure that, without taking the slightest\nnotice of his assailant, he executed quietly some incidental matters\nof business, whose urgency demanded immediate attention. In the\nevening the orator returned to his house, still pursued by the gibes\nand scurrilities of his spiteful {228} little adversary. But the great\nman remained unmoved; and as he entered his own gate, quietly said to\nthe janitor--_Take a lamp and show that gentleman back to his home!_ A\nsimilar but more serious instance of large-minded forgiveness of\nenemies is recorded by the same author in his life of Dion, the noble\nSyracusan who about the middle of the fourth century before Christ\nmade a brilliant dash upon Sicily, similar to that which in the middle\nof the last century Prince Charles Edward Stuart made upon Great\nBritain, with this difference, that while the one succeeded gloriously\nin his well-calculated enterprise, the other with his mock-sublime\nrashness ludicrously failed. This Dion, after having planted himself\non the seat of power abandoned by the worthless usurper, found the\ncause of constitutional order, of which he was the champion, suddenly\nendangered by the intrigues of an ambitious demagogue called\nHeracleides; but his plots were timeously discovered, and political\nwisdom sealed to call upon the representative of public order to\nprevent the recurrence of such dangerous dissensions by the death of\nthe conspirator. But the generosity of the disciple of Plato prevailed\nover the severity that would have guided a common politician. Dion\nforgave the offender; only, however, as it soon appeared, that the fox\nchased out of the hole might begin to burrow in another. In this case\nthe Syracusan Platonist behaved like a modern Quaker--nobly as\nconcerned the sentiment of the man, foolishly considering his position\nas a statesman; but while no sensible man might improve of such\nconduct in a ruler, every man feels that the heathen here performed an\nact of which, so far as motive is concerned, {229} the most\naccomplished Christian might be proud. Let the Greeks and Romans\ntherefore have their praise in this matter; let \u201cseekers after\nGod\u201d in heathen times be put forward prominently as ensamples to\nthose who in Christian times rejoice to think that they have found\nHim;[229.1] nor let sympathy be refused to noble deeds because\nperformed from somewhat different motives. The great heathen forgave\nhis enemies because he was too high-minded to allow himself to be\ndiscomposed by petty assailants, and because a great indignation seems\nwasted upon a paltry offence; the true Christian forgives his enemies\nbecause he loves them too fervidly to have any room for hatred, and\nbecause his sidling pity overwhelms his wrath. There is no sin in the\nmagnanimous pride of the heathen; there is more humanity in the quick\nsympathy of the Christian. Anyhow, Christianity may claim this\npeculiar merit, that it has set up that type of conduct as a general\nlaw for every man, which among the ancients was admired as the\nexceptive virtue of the few; and Voltaire certainly revealed one\nsource of his uncompromising hostility to the Christian faith, and\nshowed himself as far below the ideal of heathen as of Christian\nmagnanimity, when he acted so that one of his most illustrious\ndisciples could say of him that \u201che never forgives, and never thinks\nany enemy beneath his notice.\u201d[229.2]\n\nOne of the most interesting of the contrasts generally drawn between\nChristian and heathen ethics, is that which concerns the very\ndifficult virtue of SELF-ESTIMATE. \u201cLet every man,\u201d says St.\nPaul, {230} \u201cstrive not to think of himself beyond what he ought to\nthink, but soberly, according as God has divided to every man the\nmeasure of faith.\u201d And accordingly we find that in the lives of\neminent Christians, as well as in formal treatises on Christian\nethics, humility has always had a prominent place assigned to it in\nthe roll of the virtues. But here again we must beware of running into\na vulgar extreme, by imagining that the Greeks and Romans knew nothing\nof this virtue, and that they systematically fostered pride and\nself-importance. It is no doubt true, as every schoolboy knows, that\nthe word \u03c4\u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03cc\u03c2, which in classical Greek signifies _mean_\nand _paltry_, in New Testament Greek is used to designate that sort of\nperson who thinks of himself modestly, or, as St. Paul in the verse\nquoted says, \u201csoberly;\u201d but the mere change in the shade of colour\nbelonging to certain words when passing from Attic into Alexandrian\nGreek, proves nothing in such a case; and if the matter is to be\nsettled by words, the phrase \u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd used by St. Paul, taking the\nplace of the \u03c4\u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b7 of other passages, is the very word by\nwhich the Greek moralists constantly express that golden mean between\na high and a low estimate of self, which Aristotle their spokesman\nlauds as the habitual tone of the perfectly virtuous man. So far\nindeed was the Hellenic mind from recognising no sin in pride, that it\nlooked upon self-exaltation and ramping self-assertion in every form\nas not only a great sin, but the mother of all sins. This sin they\ndesignated by the significant term \u1f55\u03b2\u03c1\u03b9\u03c2--a word which etymologically\nsignifies _beyond the mark_, and which, if it had not already existed,\nmight well have been coined by {231} Aristotle, had he been given,\nlike Bentham, to the pedantry of making a language for himself.\n\n \u201cEst modus in rebus, sunt certi denique fines\n Quos ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum.\u201d\n\nPride, indeed, is not only the sin by which Lucifer falls in Christian\nangelography, but it peoples Tartarus also in heathen legends; and the\nboastful Salmoneus, whose insane ambition aspires to mimic the thunder\nof Jove, is always the first to be blasted by the bolt. Wherein then\nshall we say lies the difference--for a difference there certainly\nis--between the humility of the Christian and the \u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b7\nof the Greek? The common root of the virtue in both is plain; it is\nthe contrast between mortal and immortal, which belongs equally to\nPolytheism and to Monotheism; pride was not made for man; let him\nworship one God or many gods, he is a poor weak creature at the best,\nand only the more called upon to practise a sober-minded humility\nbecause his winged schemes so often end in creeping deeds. The\nluxuriant pride of our young leafage grows up so frequently into a\nshrivelled blossom and a hollow fruit. Yet there is a difference. In\nMonotheism there is an impassable gulf betwixt God and man which\nexists not in Polytheism. There are steps which lead up with not a few\ngradations from Pericles to Zeus; the son of a Theban Semele may be\nraised into a god, and the son of a god, like Hercules, may indulge\ngrandly in many of the stout carnalities of a mortal man. Here\ntherefore lies the primary ground of the more profound humility of the\nChristian. But there is another, which in practice has proved even\nmore potent,--the intense {232} feeling of the Christian already noted\nwith regard to the exceeding sinfulness of sin. Every Christian looks\nupon sin habitually as a healthy man looks upon the plague; in some\npopular catechisms it is even laid down that \u201cevery sin, even the\nsmallest, deserves God\u2019s wrath and curse both in this world and in\nthat which is to come;\u201d nay, more: certain theologians, deemed by\nsome peculiarly orthodox, have taught that the whole world lies under\na curse on account of the guilt of the great progenitor of the human\nrace, in violating a special divine command, a guilt incurred some six\nthousand years ago, and transmitted in due course of generation to his\nhapless progeny. These dogmas, of course, are only strong caricatures\nof the great fact that every deed, whether good or evil, by the\neternal constitution of things, necessarily transmits its influence\nfrom the earliest to the latest times; families and races therefore\nmay lie for generations under a curse; the Greek tragedy acknowledges\nthis in the strongest terms; but, as in the other cases that we have\nbeen considering, Christianity here not only intensifies a moral\nsentiment familiar to the heathen world, but it extends immensely the\nsurface over which it is diffused. \u00c6schylus and Sophocles could\nrepresent a heavy curse hanging for ages over the royal houses of\nPelops and Labdacus as the consequence of monstrous sins committed by\nthe founders of their families; but Christianity makes no selection in\nthis matter, and flings the blackness of a moral blight in the most\nunqualified phrase over the whole race of Adam. So far as we are\nsinners we are all under a curse, all children of wrath; and no man is\nsupposed to be so virtuous as that he cannot {233} honestly join in\nthe humble response of the Litany, _Lord have mercy on us, miserable\noffenders!_ These words repeated constantly in the weekly or daily\nservice of a whole Church should alone be sufficient to prove how much\nmore the virtue of humility is stamped, so to speak, into the\nChristian soul, than it was into the Hellenic. One cannot imagine\neither Socrates or Pericles using any such strong language. And I must\nconfess, when coming out into the fresh air from the long Morning\nService of the Anglican Church, I have often wondered how far the\nhumble prostration of soul expressed in the refrain of the Litany had\nbeen cordially repeated by the great majority of the worshippers. The\nEnglish, as is well known, are a peculiarly proud and often somewhat\ninsolent people; and for myself, I honestly confess that I have always\nexperienced in reference to my own feelings not a little exaggeration\nin the expressions of soul-prostration employed whether in the spoken\nPresbyterian or in the printed Episcopalian formularies. I do not see\nwhy Christian worshippers should so constantly avoid the language of a\nreasonable virtuous self-satisfaction used by King David in not a few\nplaces, and by Nehemiah. But however this be, and allowing that many\nChristians habitually employ phrases in their church service which are\nplainly at variance with the whole tone and temper of their lives, it\nis after all true that Christianity, if it errs here, errs on the safe\nside, and errs only as the medical men do, by using a very drastic\ndrug to combat a very violent disease. For it is only too obvious that\nself-importance in various forms, not rarely under the decent mask of\nmodesty and diffidence, {234} is the dominant vice of the human\ncharacter. Young men are apt to glory in their strength, young women\nin their beauty, fathers are proud of their offspring, scholars of\ntheir learning, metaphysicians of their subtleties, and poets of the\niridescent and evanescent bubbles of a luxurious fancy and an unpruned\nimagination. Men of science too are apt to be proud of their\nknowledge,--whether a knowledge of what is high or what is low matters\nnot; it is the knowledge which puffs them up, not the thing known,\nwhich indeed, if well weighed, were oftener the motive to humiliation\nthan to exaltation. We are therefore much in need of getting as much\nhumility from the gospel as it is naturally calculated to inspire; and\nit may be observed that the public pulse is always ready to beat in\nunison with the sacred text whenever a man of great original genius\nstands forward, signally marked with the peculiarly Christian type of\nhumility. Such a man was Michael Faraday, the subtle investigator of\nthose secret laws which regulate the molecular action of particles of\nmatter among themselves.\n\n \u201cYet living face to face with these great laws,\n Great truths, great mysteries, all who saw him near,\n Knew him how childlike, simple, free from flaws\n Of temper, full of love that casts out fear.\n\n Untired in charity, of cheer serene,\n Careless or gold or breath of praise to earn;\n Childhood or manhood\u2019s ear content to win,\n And still as glad to teach as meek to learn.\u201d[234.1]\n\nHere we have the general type of a chaste and {235} beautiful\nChristian humility in the shape of a living man. To this no one\nobjects. It is the dogmas and the doctrinal paradoxes of the\nprofessional theologians that are so apt to fret us; to which,\naccordingly, here as in other cases, in judging of Christian ethics,\nwe shall be wise in not attributing too much importance.\n\nBut it were a very great mistake to imagine that in reference to the\nestimate of personal worth Christianity exercises only a repressing,\nand as some may picture it, a depressing, influence. On the contrary,\nthere is no religion that has done so much in creating and fostering the\nfeeling of personal worth and dignity. How is this? Plainly because,\nwhile the Christian doctrine prostrates every man in a humble equality\nbefore God, that very equality makes every man conscious of an equal\npersonality as compared with any other man. All men are sinners; if\nthat be a difficult doctrine to swallow there is one closely connected\nwith it, which is more comfortable: all men are brethren; and if\nbrethren, equal--a wise father has no favouritism. This is another\nconsequence of that monotheistic fatherhood of which we have already\nspoken; it not only abolished nationalities, it created personalities.\nIn the preaching of the gospel each individual is appealed to as a\nperson with separate responsibilities; he has sinned individually, he\nrepents individually, he is redeemed individually. In this affair of\nChristian salvation there is nothing done by proxy. Priests are not\nknown in the Church. The people only are the priesthood;[235.1] each\nindividual in the congregation has the value and the dignity of a\n{236} priest. From this equality of personal dignity before God two\nremarkable phenomena have flowed, both specially characteristic of\nmodern society--the abolition of slavery and the rivalry of religious\nsects. Slavery, of course, must appear an intolerable anomaly to a man\nwho believes that all men are brethren and all sons of God; to call a\nman brother and to sell him as a chattel is a lie too gross to be\ntolerated even by a world accustomed to cheat itself with the\nauthority of all sorts of mere names. And as to the rivalry of\nmultifarious sects and churches, which some people bewail as the one\ngreat gangrene of Christendom, it is really somewhat shallow not to\nsee that in the moral as in the physical world diversity of form only\nproves the richness and the variety of the vital manifestation. The\nexternal unity after which some religious persons sigh existed\nnaturally under heathenism, where the individual conscience was merged\nin the State; exists now also in Popish countries, where the same\nconscience is merged in the Priesthood; but in the Christianity of the\nearly Church, founded as it was on a direct appeal to the conscience\nof the individual sinner, such a purely external and mechanical idea\ncould find no place. The right to exist at all as a Church established\nthe right to dissent from other Churches, by asserting its own\nconvictions when such assertion seemed necessary. This assertion,\nindeed, might often be made foolishly, forwardly--then it was a sin,\nthe sin of schism; but the right to dissent was inherent, it was part\nof the indefeasible birthright of spiritual liberty wherewith Christ\nhad made his people free. In this sense, to talk of humility were to\nestablish slavery; while, on the other hand, to send {237} out\nbranching suckers, which anon take independent root, is merely to\nprove the rich vitality of the stem. Christianity has thus become the\ngreat mother of moral individualism; and the many sects, which are so\napt to annoy us with their petty jealousies, are, when more closely\nviewed, merely a true index to the intensity of our spiritual life.\n\nOn the relation of Christian Ethics to civil AUTHORITY, on the one\nhand, and to the sacred right of LIBERTY on the other, much has been\nwritten, but most frequently by partisans too interested to be capable\nof an impartial judgment. The wisdom of the original preachers of the\nGospel was in nothing more manifest than in the care with which they\navoided mixing themselves up in any way with the social and political\nquestions of the hour; while at the same time they did not omit to\nenunciate principles and to exhibit conduct opposed equally to the\nservility which despotism demands and the licence in which democracy\ndelights. It would be easy to marshal forth an array of texts by which\nthe doctors of divine right on the one hand, and the preachers of the\nsacred right of insurrection on the other, have endeavoured to enlist\nthe Saviour of mankind as a recruit in the internecine wars which they\nhave waged. But however Churchman and Puritan might expound and\ndenounce, the serene face of the Son of Mary looked always strange\nthrough the smoke and sulphur of such struggles; his name was invoked\non both sides with most vehement protestation; but it was difficult\nall the while for the impartial spectator to perceive that he was part\nof the battle; he seemed always to belong to both sides, or to\nneither. But sensible men of all parties {238} have at length become\nconvinced that to attempt to stamp the name of Christ as the special\npatron of our little partisan cliques and warfares is as absurd as to\nexpect that the sun should come down from heaven and confine his\nillumination to our private parlours. As for purely secular parties,\nit is quite certain that both the extremes which divide the political\nworld are equally remote from the spirit of moderation and toleration\nwhich is the very atmosphere that Christian charity breathes. Absolute\ndespotism, or the unlimited authority of one man over his fellows, is\na condition of things which, as Aristotle remarks, could only be\nnatural and legitimate in cases where the one absolute ruler happened\nto be both the strongest and the best man in the community; but to\nacknowledge as absolute rulers those who have no authority for their\nrule but their own imperious will, and are always more likely to be\nthe worst than the best members of the society to which they belong,\nis manifestly as directly opposed to the sense of righteousness in the\nChristian code of morals as to the dictate of reason in the Greek. On\nthe other hand, the right of the mere numerical majority to rule,\nwhich is the characteristic principle of pure democracy, never can be\nadmitted by a religion which teaches that the majority are bad, and\nthat we ought not to follow a multitude to do evil. The equality which\nbelongs to all Christians is not so much an equal right to rule as an\nequal duty to obey; an equal right only to participate in those\nprivileges and obligations which belong to an independent human being,\nnot a mere chattel, as a member of a moral society called the Church,\nand of a legal society called the State. The Christian {239} rejoices\nindeed in his liberty; but it is not in the liberty to do what he\npleases, much less in the liberty of a majority to outbawl and to\noverbear a minority by the mere power of numbers. He is free from the\npollution of sin, from the slavery of the senses, from the forms of a\ncumbrous ritualism, and the exactions of a lordly priesthood; but he\nis not free, and never dreams of being free, from the homage which\nvice ought always to pay to virtue, from the natural subordination\nthat ignorance owes to intelligence, and from the sacred authority of\nlaw. Here Christ and Socrates agree. \u201c_Render unto C\u00e6sar the things\nthat are C\u00e6sar\u2019s, and to God the things that are God\u2019s_.\u201d\n\u201c_Let every soul be subject to the higher powers_.\u201d If laws are\nbad or impolitic, the guilt of their viciousness lies at the door of\nthose who made them, or who gave themselves no concern to have them\naltered. But so long as they are laws let them be obeyed. The first\nduty of the Christian is obedience to all existing laws, respect for\nall established authorities, and a reverence generally for those\ngradations of dignity and excellence into which the fair proportions\nof the social architecture have been piled. Generally speaking he is\nnot an eager politician; the inspiration of large human love which\npossesses his breast tenders him incapable of entering warmly into\nthose party struggles in Church and State with which large human love\nhas seldom much to do. He can neither despise the lowly majority of\nhis fellow-men to please the oligarch, nor trample upon the\nintelligent minority to please the democrat. He has no great appetite\nfor power; he does not covet office; he will not intrigue for place;\nhe will not grasp the sceptre of civic rule with a forward hand, {240}\nbut wield it when it naturally falls to him with firmness as respects\nothers, and with a holy jealousy as respects himself; and he will\nrejoice with trembling then chiefly when the victorious car of his\nparty friends is riding over the prostrate army of his foes. Ambition\nis with him the love of usefulness, not the love of power; he\ncomprehends the spirit which dictated the answer of a pious English\nclergyman when he refused the cure of a parish which was offered him,\nfor the singular reason that \u201cthe emoluments were too large and the\nduty was too small;\u201d[240.1] and he fears the dangers which may flow\nfrom the abuse of authority more than he desires the pleasures which\nare connected with its use.\n\nLet us now, in the last place, inquire how the Christian law of right\nconduct has approved itself in the history of society since the first\ninstitution of the Church. And we seem certainly justified in starting\nhere with the expectation that, moved by such a fervid steam-power,\nstrengthened with such lofty sanctions, and displaying a scheme of\nvirtues at once so manly and so gentle--virtues not preached merely in\nsermons or discussed in ethical treatises, but set forth in the living\nepistles of two such opposite and yet both eminently Christian types\nof character as St. Paul and St. John--so accoutred surely, and clad\nwith the perfect panoply that belongs to a great moral warfare (Eph.\nvi. 13), Christianity could not but go forth conquering and to\nconquer, especially when the living faith in extraordinary, and\nmiraculous demonstrations everywhere accompanied its march; and if it\nhas in any considerable degree failed to fulfil its bright promise in\nregenerating the {241} face of the moral worlds this, in those who\naccepted the religion, must have proceeded mainly from one of three\ncauses: either because the ideal was too high for them, as we are\naccustomed to observe that certain nations are not socially far\nadvanced enough for free constitutions, and thrive best under\ndespotism; or from, the neglect of a regulative force which might\ncheck the natural tendency to excess, extravagance and one-sidedness,\nto which all human movements are liable; or again, from the\ndisturbance of the proper healthy action of the regenerative virtue of\nthe doctrine by the admixture of certain foreign, incompatible, and\ncorrupting elements. Of the first cause of failure nothing need be\nsaid; it is with high morality as with high art, it is and it always\nmust be above the average reach of the great mass of men; and it may\nbe that in morals, as in art, some nations have tacitly agreed to let\nthe high standard drop, and content themselves with attaining a\nmanifestly inferior but more generally attainable ideal. But however\nsuch compromises and refuges of despair may be the necessary wisdom of\npoliticians and of lawyers, who have to deal practically with the\nselfish element in the masses of mankind, in the theory of morals, as\nof art, they can certainly find no place. The Church and the Academy\nmust always set up the highest ideal; if they fail to do so it is only\nbecause the inspiration which created them was originally feeble, or\nhas waxed faint; and if the members of the Church or the scholars of\nthe Academy fail to realize in their lives and in their works the\nperfect pattern which has been set before them, it is the defect of\nthe learner, not the fault of the teacher. No one thinks of elevating\nthe character of art by lowering {242} the standard. And so if\nChristianity is too good for mankind it must just remain too good,\ntill in the slow process of the ages men shall become more worthy of\nit. But the two other causes of failure require to be looked into more\nseriously. To the danger of excess Christian morality is peculiarly\nliable, just because its steam-power is so very strong and its action\nso efficacious. I read but the other day in a newspaper of a girl,\nstudious, as girls are apt to be, of personal beauty, who, having\npicked up somewhere a fact well known to horse-dealers, that arsenic\nhas a specific beneficial action on the skin, set to work of her own\nmotion to mingle her daily potations with an infusion of the potent\nmetal, and did this so assiduously that in a very short time, instead\nof improving her complexion, she had well-nigh removed herself for\never from the society of the living. Now this is exactly what has\nhappened with Christian Ethics. Men have taken too much of a certain\nvirtue, say Reverence--which is the virtue most closely bound up with\nreligion--and have changed it into stupidity. That which was meant to\nelevate human beings out of their finite littleness has been used to\ndepress them below the level of their meanest selves. And not only\nhave Christians by the excessive culture of favourite virtues turned\nthem into caricature, but they have assumed that because they have\nlearned to be Christians they should forget to be men. There are\ncertain human instincts, either purely physical, or closely connected\nwith our animal existence, so strong that the first preachers of the\nevangelic ethics seem to have thought they might be safely left to\ntake care of themselves; but these same instincts certain\nhigh-pressure Christians {243} who came afterwards, with more zeal\nthan sense, thought it their duty studiously to repress, or even\nviolently to extirpate. The result has been that we have seen\nChristianity set at work systematically to maim that humanity which it\nwas intended to heal. As to the third cause of failure, the admixture\nwith foreign elements, it is of the same nature as the water which\ndilutes the milk and the sand which debases the sugar in the\nadulterated traffic of low traders. That such adulteration should\nexist to a large extent in Christianity was unavoidable, so soon as\nthe profession of a religion so high above the measure of vulgar\nethics became respectable. When everybody was born and baptized and\nbribed into Christianity, the morality which each Christian of this\nexternal type professed must have been something as cheap as the blood\nfrom which he was procreated, the water with which he was washed, and\nthe work by which he gained his livelihood.\n\nThe first, and in its epiphany one of the earliest and most\nwide-spread excesses of Christian morality, was ASCETICISM. The\ntemptation to this lies very near, in the practice of the Christian\nlife, and is suggested in the strongest manner by its very language.\nIf sin is the flesh, and some of its most shameless and rampant\nexhibitions are characteristically designated the lusts of the flesh,\nit would seem that the simplest way to get the mastery of such lusts\nis to keep the body under, as St. Paul has it,--to frown upon cakes\nand ale, and perhaps even to extirpate certain passions, as you would\npull up dock by the long tape root, to make more room for the grass.\nNor was this altogether an unreasonable procedure. It might be very\nadmissible, in certain cases, to {244} become a eunuch for the kingdom\nof heaven\u2019s sake; \u201cfor the present need\u201d he who abstained from\nmarriage might save himself from much incumbrance and from some\nmisery. The error lay in setting up that as a general ideal which was\nvaluable only as a device for special occasions, and possible only in\na rational way to persons of a peculiar temperament. Our Saviour\nshowed himself publicly at marriage-feasts as well as retired into the\nmountains; he was found eating and drinking, and even changing water\ninto wine. St. Paul also never denied that a glass of wine was a good\nthing; but Christians afterwards very soon began to act as if the\nstern Baptist of the wilderness, and not the social Jesus of the\nwaysides, had been the pattern set up for their imitation. This\ndegeneration, no doubt, was the fruit of the anti-sensuous impulse\nwhich it had been necessary to give them; and they saw daily in the\nstreets of Rome and of Corinth unseemly spectacles enow, of which the\nlesson seemed to be: it is better to abstain than to be poisoned. Add\nto this that Plato and his Alexandrian successors had thrown the whole\nforce of their ethics of reason on the spiritual side, and spoken of\nthe body often in terms of greater contempt than the Christian\napostles had ever done of the flesh. Of Plotinus, his biographer\nPorphyry tells that \u201che lived like a man who was ashamed of being in\nthe body at all;\u201d and Clemens of Alexandria, one of the most\nintelligent of the Fathers, though not going to the extreme of these\nPlatonic devotees, speaks of a good dinner in a style calculated to\nlead by a violent plunge on the other side into an artificial appetite\nfor dry pease and hard crusts. \u201cWe must not,\u201d he says, \u201chave any\ncare of external things, but be {245} anxious rather to purify the eye\nof the soul and to chasten the flesh. Other animals live that they may\neat; man eats that he may live; for neither is eating his business nor\npleasure his good. Therefore those are strongly to be condemned who\nseek after Sicilian lampreys, M\u00e6andrian eels, Pelorian mussels,\noysters from Abydos, sprats from Lipara, Attic flounders, Mantinean\nturnips, Ascr\u00e6an beetroot, thrushes from Daphne, and Chalcedonian\nraisins.\u201d[245.1] Of course the sensible old Father meant this partly\nas a protest against the monstrous gastronomic luxury of the Romans,\nof which we read in Suetonius and other Latin writers of that age; but\nit seems no less true that he was carried away in these matters by an\nideal of extravagant anti-sensualism, which had then strongly taken\npossession of the Christian Church, and was indeed a rank native\ngrowth of the East, specially of Syria and Egypt, as Church history\nlargely testifies. Nay, even in modern times, and in Western Europe,\nwhere the cold climate partly excuses, partly necessitates, high\nfeeding, we find young persons, in the first start of a religious\nlife, not unfrequently led into a course of ascetic practice, as\nprejudicial to their bodies as the excessive bookwork of the colleges\nis to the mind. Young Whitefield, we are told, suffered not a little\nfrom exercises of this kind; and the prolonged formal fastings\nprescribed as God-pleasing by recent Ritualistic clergymen in this\ncountry, have on more than one occasion enfeebled for a whole lifetime\nthe bodily functions of their virgin devotees. This is sad enough; but\nit is not the worst. Such absurdities make Christianity ridiculous,\nand force revolted nature into the {246} school of a benign Bentham or\nan easy Hume, where one may at all events be moral and reasonable.\nWhen we read in the biography of some modern Anglo-Catholic saint that\nhe feared nothing so much as the soft seduction of a slice of buttered\ntoast, and the golden deliciousness of a glass of Madeira, we begin to\nsigh for Aristotle; it were better to have no religion at all as an\ninspiring soul of morality, than a religion which lends importance to\nsuch puerilities. But if these things have been done by certain\npseudo-Christians, and are paraded even now, there was one belief,\nvery common in the early ages of the Church, which tended not a little\nto intensify the tendencies which lead to them. At all times it is\npossible for the expectation of a future life to encroach on the\nenjoyment of the present; and the growth of the asceticism of the\nfirst centuries was beyond doubt powerfully aided by the overwhelming\ninfluence of a newly promulgated and greedily accepted immortality,\nand yet more perhaps, by the belief in the speedy second coming of\nChrist. The renunciation of the world, and the more characteristic\nworldly enjoyments, becomes of course much more easy when the\nmachinery of the world is shortly expected to stop. And thus the\nweakness of human nature concurred with a number of accidental causes\nto make the ascetic caricature of Christian ethics one of the most\nwide-spread diseases, and an altogether astounding phenomenon in the\nmoral history of man. The ascetic oddities of Diogenes and a few Greek\ncynics were nothing to it. The multitude of strange, and ridiculous,\nand even disgusting forms which it assumed, will be found amply\ndetailed in the second volume of Mr. Lecky\u2019s excellent _History_\n{247} _of European Morals_, and need not be enlarged on here.\n\nOne of the strangest fancies that was ever begotten by the translation\nof sense into nonsense is the idea of the Society of Friends, that\nChristianity forbids war, and that self-defence is a sin.\nUnquestionably Christianity forbids the spirit of hatred and the\ndesire of revenge; for the religion of Christ is a religion of\nmotives, of purity of heart, and of humanity of purpose, and could not\nbut forbid every spring of action that had in it the least tincture of\nselfishness; but hostility between diverse interests is a fact which\nChristianity could not deny, and common sense would not attempt to\nexplain away. What Christianity denounced was the spirit from which\nwars generally arise--\u201c_From whence come wars and fightings among\nyou? Come they not even from your lusts that war in your members?_\u201d\nAnd so far as this is the case, if these lusts were regulated by\nChristian principle--that is, if love and sympathy took the place of\nselfishness and jealousy, the wars that spring from their feverish\nferment and fury would not take place. But this is a quite different\nthing from the natural right of self-defence; there are wars where the\naggression is all on one side, and where to yield to the assault would\nbe to offer a bribe to brigandage; there are wars also of pure\nstupidity, where both parties don\u2019t know what they are about, and\nwhere it is not a pure heart but a disciplined intellect that is\nnecessary to prevent the fray. But whatever be the cause, wherever\nthere is a fermenting bed of conflicting interests of divergent\nopinions and of antagonist passions, even amongst good men wars are\nunavoidable; unless, indeed, such a court of impartial {248} arbiters\ncould be appointed, as it has hitherto proved beyond the reach of\nhuman wit to realize; and what Christian Ethics in this case requires\nis, that, contests of right being unavoidable, after every attempt at\npeaceful adjustment has failed, men should go to war with a certain\nmutual self-respect, and with a generous chivalry such as the knights\nof the middle ages systematically fostered, carrying on hostilities\nlike men, and not like tigers. In this sense it has been proved\nperfectly possible to love our enemies without betraying our rights,\nand will become more and more practicable in the degree that\ninternational recognition becomes more common, and a large Christian\nphilanthropy more diffused. But the idea that Christian love should\nbecome so intense as absolutely to annihilate the instinct of\nself-preservation, and to train every creature to love every other\ncreature a great deal better than itself, is pure maundering, and will\nthen only be tolerated among men when a decadent humanity shall have\nentirely divorced piety from reason, and Buddhism instead of\nChristianity shall have become the religion of the most advanced\npioneers of civilisation.\n\nBut the most general excess which runs, so to speak, in the blood of\nChristian ethics, arises from the overflow of zeal without knowledge,\nat one time boiling over in floods of the most savage intolerance, at\nanother ossified into the rigid features of the most unrelenting\nbigotry. This is an evil which springs naturally from the connexion of\nmorality with religion; and it is an evil of so enormous a magnitude\nthat it seems in some sort to supply an excuse for those inadequate\nethical systems of recent growth which take no cognisance of the\nreverential and devout {249} instincts of human nature, and, after the\nmodel of Aristotle, would build up an architecture of Ethics without\npiety. And if religious zeal generally is prone to run into\nintolerance, it is specially so in the case of monotheism. For\nmonotheism is naturally intolerant; it will bear no assessor on the\nsupreme throne; if true, it is exclusively true. And this is indeed no\nmore than what it is entitled to; but it should be intolerant only of\npolytheism as a system, not uncharitable to polytheists as men;\nwhereas it has become almost a proverb that the zeal of Christian\ntheologians stands divorced not only from charity, but from truth; of\nall disputants men of the clerical profession are the most unfair, so\nmuch so, that among churchmen as a class candour is scarcely a\nmentionable virtue. A candid evangelist is generally a black sheep to\nhis brethren; assuredly he will not be found prominent in Church\ndebates, or forward as a leader of Church parties. But neither must we\nbear too hard upon the clergy in this matter. It is human nature, in\nfact, more than clerical inoculation that is to blame; and we shall\nfind if we look round with an impartial eye, that humanitarian\ndemocrats, anti-church Radicals, scientific crotchet-mongers,\nmathematical formulists, and conceited young poets, are equally\nintolerant in their own way; only religion, like love, by the very\nintensity of its excellence, raises the natural intolerance of human\nnature to its highest power; it is so pleasant to stamp the name of\nGod upon our passions and ride triumphantly over the world in the\ncharacter of armed apostles of the most sacred truth. Hence religious\nwars, which, as all the world knows, have generally proved the most\nbitter and sanguinary; hence conquests, robberies, {250} and\noppressions in the name of the God of Christians; which for systematic\ncruelty, treachery, and all manner of baseness, have not been\nsurpassed in the annals of Spartan helotage or Venetian espionage;\nhence assumptions of infallibility which make reason blush, and\nconsecrations of absurdity which petrify common sense. And when this\nflaming zeal, in more quiet times, has settled down, it does not\ntherefore always cease to exist, but stiffens into bigotry, and,\nunited with that self-importance which is so natural to man, produces\nan exclusiveness and a Pharisaism of which all Christian Churches, in\nseeming rivalry of the Jews, whom they revile, have presented a very\nsharp and well-marked adumbration. If the religious Hindu will not eat\nfrom a Christian\u2019s platter, the religious Episcopalian will not dine\nin the same room or stand on the same platform with the religious\nDissenter. The hissing fervour which originally forbade the approach\nof two adverse churches has now been changed into a dead wall or\npartition, which keeps those who ought to know, and love, and\nco-operate with one another, habitually as far apart as Greeks and\nTurks; so that it has become the most difficult of all social\noperations to unite two Christian churches, separated perhaps by some\nnotion more political than religious, in the prosecution of some\ncommon object which they both confess to be supremely desirable.\n\nThat which makes the ebullition and overflow of religious zeal so\nfatal in its effects, is not merely the excess of the zeal itself,\nwhich like all excess is bad, but the tendency of all religions to\nsubordinate the moral element which they contain to the religious: to\nmake religion a separate business instead of an ethical instrument; to\nhang it as an amulet round {251} the neck, not to breathe it as an\natmosphere of social health, to nurse it as a sacred fire in the\nheart, and to feel it as a power which purifies every passion,\nennobles every motive, and braces the nerve to the robustness of all\nmanly achievement. If there is one characteristic of Christianity more\nprominent than another, it is certainly this, that it is essentially\nan ethical religion; other religions favour certain virtues, or give a\ncertain sanction to all virtues, but Christianity is morality; the\nmoral regeneration is the religion. There are religions which profess\nto possess a power by which its priests can bring down rain, banish\nthe pestilence, make the devil speak truth, and charm a murderer into\nheaven. Christianity knows nothing of these tricks. Its ministers\nsupply no passports by which knaves and sluggards, when they escape\nfrom the body, may pass the celestial police without question. The\nChristian religion is not a special training which pious persons are\nto go through in order to prepare themselves for a future world; it\ncalls upon every man with a loud voice to do the work of God in this\nworld, here where alone work is possible for us; and not until our\nassigned task has been bravely done here, can there be any question of\nwhat promotion may await us there. Had the gospel been intended\naccording to the vulgar prejudice now under consideration, as a\nreligion having an existence apart from the details of everyday\nmorality, John the Baptist certainly would never have been sent as its\nprecursor, nor the Sermon on the Mount been given forth as its\nmanifesto. Neither again does the famous doctrine of St. Paul, that\nmen are saved by faith not by works, in any wise contradict the\nessentially ethical character {252} of the faith which he preached.\nThe works which in the Epistle to the Romans he so unconditionally\ndenounces, are works either of self-conceit or of sacerdotal\nimposition, by which persons uninspired by a lofty moral ideal seek to\nrecommend themselves to God. From such a germ no moral good can\npossibly grow; for as in the realm of speculation the oppressive sense\nof ignorance is the commencement of true knowledge, so in the\npractical world, the honest confession of sin is the commencement of\nsanctification. But how little Christian faith can have any\nsignificance apart from works, the same Apostle shows largely in the\n11th chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, the only part of the New\nTestament by the way in which a formal definition of faith is given,\nand a chapter at the same time from whose copious historical\nillustrations, it is plain to any child that faith is merely a\nreligious synonym for what we in secular language call moral heroism,\na heroism peculiarly marked as Christian only by the distinct\nrecognition on the part of the actor that the moral law which he obeys\nis the accredited will of the Moral Governor whom he serves. Clear as\nthis is, however, there has always been manifested in the Christian\nchurch a tendency to separate faith from works, a tendency which, like\nother aberrations, has sometimes had the hardihood to stilt itself up\ninto the dignity of a dogma, and in this attitude has been known in\nthese latter times under the name of Antinomianism. Of a leaning\ntowards this monstrous doctrine, the Calvinistic churches have been\nspecially accused; and there can be no doubt, that in Scotland and\nother countries where a Calvinistic creed is professed, notions of\nthis kind will always {253} find an open soil in souls of a certain\nnature, notions too that will often be practically acted upon even\nwhere they are not theoretically professed; but it is historically\ncertain, that of all Christian teachers the great Genevan reformer\nhimself was the least chargeable with any absurdity of this kind. On\nthe contrary, he found himself involved in a serious war with the city\nto which he ministered, just because he insisted that his religion\nshould be practical, and his faith if it meant anything, should mean\ngood works; and he carried his point too in the end in spite of those\nwho stoutly protested that the stern limitations of gospel law marked\nout by the preacher, should have nothing practically to do with the\nbroad licence that might be convenient for the libertine and the\npublican. And indeed, it would be the greatest reform that could be\nmade in the Christian church at the present moment, if our popular\npreachers were to give us fewer sermons, and when they did preach,\ntake care, like St. Paul in his Epistles, to have some distinct\npractical point to speak to. For the difficulty of Christian as of all\nethics, lies not in the general rules, but in the special application\nof the rules; and vague condemnations of sin however severe, and\ncommendations of holiness however fervid, will have little effect if\npeople are not to be made to understand distinctly what those phrases\nso awfully sounded forth on Sunday are meant to signify on Monday. The\ndignity of the pulpit, I suspect, like the dignity of history, has\noften made it dull; certain it is, that whether from a false sense of\ndignity, or from a religious zeal without ethical depth, or from\nignorance of those affairs to which ethical maxims must be applied, or\n{254} from fear to offend those whose support is thought necessary,\nthe ministrations of the Christian pulpit lose not a little of their\nefficiency from dealing more in the generalities of sin and holiness,\nthan in special vices and virtues, and from yielding to the easy\ntemptation of expatiating on scholastic subtleties or ecclesiastical\ncrotchets, instead of unravelling the perplexities of social practice,\nor unmasking the disguises of individual character. Many things are\nleft to be handled lightly by the novel-writer, which with much more\neffect might have been handled seriously in the pulpit; and in fact, I\nhave found not a few excellent sermons in novels, which I should have\nsought for in vain in our pulpits; but the misfortune is, that people\nread novels mainly to be amused, and will see the living portrait of\ntheir own follies painted in the firmest lines, and with the most\nglowing colours, without making the slightest attempt to amend their\nfaults. But of this enough. One thing is certain, that no amount of\nfaith, no amount of preaching, and no amount of prayer, can be taken\nas a true measure of the genuine Christianity of any country, unless\nthe faith professed shall be found to be permeating every form of\nsocial life, and elevating every trait of individual character. To any\none who wishes to see what real Christianity can do for a district in\nthe person of a truly evangelic and wise man, I recommend the perusal\nof the life of the Rev. John Frederick Oberlin, who, in the latter\nhalf of the last century, was, during the course of a long life,\npastor of the mountain district of the Ban de la Roche in Alsace. This\nremarkable man was not content with the common ministerial routine of\npreaching and praying; he saw that in the circumstances {255} in which\nhe was placed, nothing was to be done by mere talk; so with pick-axe\nin hand he set himself to make roads; he became the forester of his\nparishioners, and planted trees; their schoolmaster, and built them\nschools; their architect, and reformed their cottages; their deacon,\nand taught them trades; their professor, and lectured to them on\nscience; their physician, and taught them to live according to the\nlaws of health. Thus the faith which he professed turned a neglected\nparish in a few years into a perfect museum of all good works, of\nwhich a religion of the purest love was the soul; and the unobtrusive\nChristian worker, who of this wilderness made a garden, was perhaps\nthe greatest man in France at a time when the thunders of Napoleon\nwere shaking the world from west to east, while his own fame had\nscarcely travelled beyond the bleatings of the sheep of his own\nparish. So little has the noisy applause of the world to do with some\nof the highest forms of Christian virtue.[255.1]\n\nIt remains now only shortly to indicate how Christian ethics has\nsuffered from the admixture of adulterating elements. These are\nnotably three: INTELLECTUALISM, RITUALISM, and SECULARISM.\n\u201cThere is a strange fascination,\u201d says a living distinguished\ntheologian, \u201cin reasoning about mysteries.\u201d[255.2] Every religion\nof course has its mysteries--for a man reverences that only which he\nhas reason to respect, {256} while he cannot fully comprehend it; but\nthe faculty of reverence when exercised on sacred mysteries should\nrather deter men from presumptuous dogmatism than invite them to its\nexhibition. But it has not always proved so in the Church. The\nunsophisticated intellect of the laity might possibly have been\ncontent without the vain attempt to define what is in its nature\nundefinable. It is not the business of man to define God at all; our\nfinite work in reference to all forms of the Infinite is to\nacknowledge, to worship, and to obey. But the meddling intellect of\nprofessional theologians would not allow matters to rest here; they\nproceeded to construct certain curious formul\u00e6 of doctrinal\northodoxy, an intellectual belief in which was substituted for the\nliving ethical faith by which the heathen world had been regenerated.\nMen were now taught to entertain the thoroughly unchristian idea that\nthe acceptance by the cognitive faculty of an array of nicely-worded\npropositions concerning the Divine Nature and the plan of redemption\nwas somehow or other essential to their salvation; was certainly not\nthe least important element in Christian faith, and the non-acceptance\nof which was held as justly excluding the recusant from the communion\nof the saints. This was a sad mistake. The fiery denunciations which\nSt. Peter (2 Pet. ii. 1) and the other apostles uttered against those\nwho \u201cprivily bring in damnable heresies,\u201d were launched not\nagainst intellectual heterodoxies, but against the lusts of the flesh\nand all sorts of sensualism; but now the hated name of heresy was\ntransferred to the imaginary sin of not being able to believe what a\nconclave of foolish or presumptuous Churchmen chose to lay down, and\nartificial creeds {257} were forged and fulminated, and flung with\nstern anathemas and boastful defiance against every honest thinker who\ncould not be brought to believe that faith must show its efficacy\nprincipally by its power of blinding reason and smothering common\nsense. This gigantic dogmatism of the shallow understanding making an\nalliance with the fervid religious zeal which has been already\nmentioned, led consistently to a system of the most organized social\nselfishness that the history of the world knows,--selfishness only the\nmore horrible that it was dignified by the most venerable names, and\nconsecrated by the most sacred ceremonial The office-bearers of the\noriginally free moral community called the Church now declared\nthemselves infallible, and lorded it insolently over the consciences\nof those within the Church, and over both soul and body of those\nwithout its pale. To think on any of the subjects most interesting to\na thinking man was now a sin; men who had the misfortune not to think\nexactly according to the formul\u00e6 prescribed by the Church were\nprosecuted as criminals, condemned as malefactors, burnt at the stake\nas monsters, and refused the humanities of common burial. A compact\nwas made with the civil power that no situation of honour, emolument,\nor trust should be given to any one who was not ready to swear to the\nestablished orthodoxy; and thus, as human nature is constituted, not\nonly was thinking forbidden and absurdity enthroned, but a bribe was\nheld out to public hypocrisy; the conscience of young persons was\nsystematically debauched; and the love of truth and the independent\nsearching of the Christian Scriptures in many Christian churches\nbecame utterly unknown. Such were the fruits of Intellectualism. {258}\nBut these portentous results were not produced by the impertinence of\nthe meddling intellect alone. Such a hideous domination over the\nliberties of the individual conscience could not have been achieved by\none unassisted evil power. During the same period of Christian\ncorruption the other evil influences of RITUALISM and Secularism\nwere both equally active. Of these the first, though with a\ndistinctively religious feature, was in essential character\nanti-Christian. Christianity is a religion of inward motives,\nRitualism a religion of outward forms. It was not enough that the hand\nshould shrink from offending; that the eye should cease from lustful\nwandering; the fountains of evil desire had to be stopped in their\nfirst wellings; the lawyer and the police might concern themselves\nwith the completed act and its consequences; with the evil thought,\nwhich is the germ of all evil deeds, Christianity commenced and\nfinished its purifying action. Occupied with this radical\nregeneration, the preachers of the Gospel never dreamt of prescribing\nminute regulations about attitudes, gestures and postures, crosses,\ncrosiers, candlesticks and change of dresses, decorations with\nbanners, flags, festoons, gilded shrines, jewelled images, and other\nappurtenances of flaunting ceremonial. These might be matters of\ndecency and taste very proper to be attended to; but to have made them\nthe subject of special prescription would have been to assign them an\nimportance which they did not deserve; nay, would have manifestly run\ncounter to the liberty of that religion which they taught, and\nconfounded it with the bondage of that Judaism--a bondage of meats and\ndrinks, new-moons and sabbaths, and other externalities--which neither\n{259} they nor their fathers had been able to bear. And this leads us\nto remark, that the oppressive puerilities of Ritualism in themselves,\nperhaps more ridiculous than pernicious, were, in the case of the\nJews, and are indeed naturally everywhere, closely combined with\nanother evil no less foreign to the genius of Christianity, which we\nmay call SACERDOTALISM. The Jews and the Egyptians had a closely\nbanded hereditary priesthood culminating in a theocracy; the Greeks\nand Romans had a sporadic priesthood of special sacred persons,\ncolleges and places; of these a ritual, often cumbrous, seldom\ngraceful, sometimes shameful, generally ridiculous, was the legitimate\nexponent. Christianity with the performance abolished the performers;\nprayers were declared to be the only incense, a holy life the only\noffering, and a people zealous of good works the only priesthood. But\nthis was too good a doctrine for poor human nature to hold by, or at\nleast for the then stage of civilisation permanently to maintain.\nPeople were only too glad to get theologians to think for them, and\nceremonies to dress up their devout feelings in an imposing though it\nmight be often a tasteless garb. These ceremonies, originally\nindifferent, by the sacred character belonging to the men by whom they\nwere performed, soon became sacrosanct, and the performing priest\nnaturally attributed a special efficacy to those rites of which he was\nthe instrument. Whatever virtue they possessed was derived originally,\nno doubt, like everything else, from God, but specially and\nexclusively through him. He was the conducting rod, the chosen medium\nof bringing down the spiritual electricity from heaven to earth. Thus\nhe became a wonder-worker more potent than the rainmakers {260} of\nAfrican superstition. He had but to open his mouth and wine became\nblood, and bread flesh at the magic mutter of his lips. In a religion\nthus made essentially sacerdotal, where thaumaturgic rites received\nsuch prominence, it was impossible that the ethics of common life\nshould be able to maintain their original place in the idea of its\nfounder. Judaism, in fact, and Heathenism, had been smuggled back into\nthe Church; religion was one thing, moral character another; brigands\nmight rob and kill, and, at the same time, keep up a converse with\nHeaven by the kissing of crosses, the telling of beads, and the\ntramping of pilgrimages; the poles of right and wrong might be\npositively inverted, while piety remained. But a still greater triumph\nfor the evil principle was in store. In the evangelic history of the\nTemptation, it is narrated that the devil, after trying other methods\nof seduction, carried our Lord up into an exceeding high mountain,\nwhere there was a survey of all the kingdoms of the world and the\nglory thereof, and pointing out these the tempter said,--\u201c_All this\nI will give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me_.\u201d This\nargument, as we know, did not succeed with our Lord; but it succeeded\nonly too well with those who came after Him. The marriage of worldly\npower and glory, to an essentially spiritual and unworldly religion,\ngave birth to that last and most potent adulteration which we have\ncalled SECULARISM. There is no necessity, of course, that a modern\nbishop should be a poor man, any more than an ancient patriarch;\nChristian ethics do not forbid a man to have a fat purse any more than\na full stomach; but as a Christian may not live an epicure mainly for\nthe sake of his stomach, so neither {261} may he live for the sake of\nhis purse. And then there is a great difference between the effect of\nworldly prosperity in individuals and in institutions. An individual\nmay be a man of exceptional virtue, and in the face of many\ntemptations may become more virtuous the more he is exposed; but\ninstitutions are composed of the majority, and \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u1f76\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03af, the majority are not heroes. It was natural, therefore, to\nexpect, that as the Christian Church in its first epoch possessed a\nprincipal element of purity in the poverty and the social\ninsignificance of its members, so one great occasion of its corruption\nwould emerge as soon as the profession of the once despised faith\nbecame the high-road to wealth, the badge of social worth, and the\nguarantee of political power, whether, \u201cas at Constantinople, the\nattempt was made to imperialize the Church, or, as at Rome, the Church\nwaxed into the dimensions of an empire.\u201d[261.1] But it was not at\nRome or Constantinople only that the Church was thus secularized.\nWherever official position in a prosperous and popular church presents\nan open career to persons desirous of making a respectable livelihood,\nthere must always be a class of people, more or less numerous, who are\nready to say in their hearts, though they may not dare everywhere to\nsay it openly,--\u201c_Put me, I pray thee, into one of the priests\u2019\noffices, that I may eat a bit of bread_.\u201d Only the means by which\nthis bit of bread may be obtained depends always to a great extent on\nthe character of the patrons; and the corruption of the church\noffice-bearers will always be greater where the appointment to\nvaluable benefices is a mere civil right, {262} belonging to private\nindividuals, than where it remains with its original depositaries, the\ncongregations of the Christian people. No doubt where popular election\nexists in a church there will always be a danger of divisions, and a\nsort of ecclesiastical demagogy or mean subserviency to the passions\nand prejudices of the majority can scarcely be avoided; but this is a\nless evil than open simony, and the usurpation of apostolic functions\nby men who do not, like St. Paul, work with their own hands that they\nmay preach without fear, but preach that they may feed themselves, and\ndress themselves, and amuse themselves, and bring up their sons to\nplay billiards, and their daughters to dance quadrilles with the\naristocracy of the land. This thorough secularisation of religion is\none of the most revolting spectacles that the moral history of the\nworld presents; and to its existence in any country, along with the\nother two adulterations mentioned, must be attributed its full share\nof guilt in creating that reaction in favour of a morality without\nreligion, and a State divorced from Church, which is one of the\nfavourite ideas of the democratic age in which we live. For while\nIntellectualism and Ritualism expose an ethical religion to attack,\nthe one by planting faith in an attitude of hostility to reason, the\nother, by making its worship puerile and ridiculous, the secular\ncorruption cuts deeper and proves suicidal to the very essence and\nsoul of Christianity. For by this infection a religion of the most\nchivalrous love, the purest unselfishness, and the profoundest\nhumility, is worked up into a monstrous combination of selfishness,\npride, and hypocrisy, which tears up the very notion of public virtue\nby {263} the roots; and so in point of fact it came to pass that, in\nthe lives of some of the most conspicuous of Christian pontiffs, there\nwas exhibited to the world a march of scarlet sins, unsurpassed by the\nbestialities of Roman or the ferocities of Byzantine autocrats. In the\nholiest courts of the most holy all was rankness, loathsomeness,\nputrescence; only a theatric show of sanctitude was kept up scarcely\nwith decency, to deceive those who might be deceived by the good\nfortune of not living too near the actors. And thus was realized the\nmost sorrowful example of the truth of the ancient adage--_corruptio\noptimi pessima;_ THE CORRUPTION OF THE BEST THINGS IS THE WORST.\n\n\n\nUTILITARIANISM.\n\n{264}\n\nOF recent British phenomena in the domain of ethical philosophy,\nwhat is called Utilitarianism is the most notable, certainly the most\nnoisy. If, indeed, there is anything distinctive in the most recent\ntone of philosophic thought and sentiment in this country, apart from\nspeculations springing out of pure physical science, it is this very\nthing, or something that claims close kindred with it. It is talked of\nin the streets and commented on in the closet; and numbering, as it\ndoes, amongst its advocates some of the most astute intellects of the\nage, it certainly deserves an attentive examination. No doubt its\nmerits, whatever they be, are likely to fall short of its pretensions;\nfor never was a system ushered in with a greater flourish of trumpets\nand a more stirring consciousness on the part of its promulgators that\na new gospel was being preached which was to save the world at last\nfrom centuries of hereditary mistake. At the watchword of the system,\nshot from Edinburgh to Westminster more than a hundred years ago, the\nson of a London attorney felt \u201cthe scales fall from his eyes;\u201d all\nwas now clear that had hitherto been dim; a distinct test was revealed\nfor marking out by a sharp line a domain where, previous to the\narrival of the great discriminator, all {265} had been mere floating\nclouds, shifting mists, and a\u00ebrial hallucinations; the unsubstantial\nidealism of Plato and the unreasonable asceticism of the New Testament\nwere destined at length to disappear; only let schools be established\nfor the creation of universal intelligence to assert itself by\nuniversal suffrage, and the redemption of the world from imaginary\nmorality and superstitious sentiment would be complete. This, so far\nas my observation has gone, is the sort of tone under the inspiration\nof which the doctrine of Utility has been proclaimed to the world; and\nthat I am not exaggerating but rather understating the self-gratulation\nof the school, is evident from the fact that Dr. Southwood Smith, one\nof Bentham\u2019s most admiring disciples, actually believed and printed\nthat his discovery of the principle of utility marked an era in moral\nphilosophy as important as that achieved for physical science by Sir\nIsaac Newton\u2019s discovery of the principle of gravitation. Nor was\nDr. Smith at all singular in this tone of transcendental laudation.\nThe dogmatism which, as we shall see, was a characteristic feature in\nthe intellectual character of Bentham, was inherited more or less by\nmost of his disciples; and the importance which they attribute to\nthemselves and their own discoveries is only surpassed by the\nsuperciliousness with which they ignore whatever has been done by\ntheir predecessors. This ignoring of the past, indeed, to the best of\nmy judgment, seems to be the radical defect, not only of the\nBenthamites, but of the great body of our British philosophers from\nLocke downwards; we do not start from a large and impartial survey of\nthe inherited results of thought, so much as from some point of local\nor {266} sectional prominence; our petty systems are of the nature of\na reaction rather than an architecture, and like all reactions are\none-sided in their direction and extravagant in their estimate of\ntheir own importance. If scholars sometimes make their learning\nuseless by their ignorance of the present, the men of the present are\nnot less apt to make their intellectual position ridiculous by\nignoring, misunderstanding, or misrepresenting their relation to the\npast;--for a large appreciation of what has been achieved by our\npredecessors alone can guarantee a just estimate of the true value of\nour own labours. All judgments are comparative; and as Primrose Hill\nis a mighty mountain to the boy born within the chime of the Bow\nBells, so Locke and Hume and Bentham may be taken for the greatest\ncaptains of thinking by men to whom Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle are\nunknown.\n\nThe first thing that strikes us in attempting a critical estimate of\nUtilitarianism is its name. Names are sometimes attached to systems\naccidentally, and in that case need not be curiously analysed; but\nwhen they are deliberately chosen by the propounder of a new theory,\nthey are significant, and provoke question. \u201cWHY UTILITY\nPLEASES\u201d is the heading of one of Hume\u2019s chapters; and the answer\nto it simply is, that as Utility consists in the adaptation of means\nto ends, and as the recognition of such adaptation is a peculiar\nfunction of reason, it cannot but be that reasonable creatures should\nreceive pleasure from being affected in a manner so suitable to their\nnature. The eyes, as Plotinus says, are susceptible of pleasure from\nlight, because an impressibility to light is of the essence of their\nquality and {267} the idea of their structure;[267.1] so reason is\nnecessarily pleased with what is reasonable, and utility must please a\ncreature whose whole energy, when he acts according to his best\nnature, is expended in discovering and applying means which shall be\nuseful to secure certain ends. But the answering of this question does\nnot advance us one step in moral philosophy; moral philosophy is a\nscience of ends, not of means--a science of what Aristotle calls the\n\u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b9\u03c4\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03bd, or supreme \u03c4\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2--the ultimate aim. So our new\nphilosophy has taken as a watchword a term that means nothing by\nitself, any more than the terms _plus_ and _minus_ in algebra. To give\nthe term a meaning, the further question must be put, _Useful for\nwhat?_ and then the old commonplace comes out--Useful for what all men\ndesire, Happiness, of course; for \u201call men desire Happiness,\nthat\u2019s past doubt,\u201d says Locke,[267.2] and Aristotle also, for\nthat matter; but we do not consult philosophers to hear such truisms.\nWhat then comes next? The truism is put into an antithetic shape, and\nwe are told as the grand result of the profoundest modern thought that\n_the greatest happiness of the greatest number_ is the ultimate\nprinciple of moral science, the pole-star of all social navigation, by\nattention to which alone the blinding mists of transcendental\nsentiment and the sharp ledges of unnatural asceticism can be avoided.\nBut is this maxim really in any way worthy of the applause with which\nit has been received? May we not well ask, in the first place, _Who\never {268} doubted it?_ If happiness is desirable, and if man is\nnaturally a social and sympathetic animal, as all the ancients took\nfor granted, then the more that can be made to partake of it so much\nthe better. Of this neither Aristotle nor Plato ever had any doubt.\nThey wished every country to contain as large a population as was\ncompatible with the conditions of health; beyond these limits, indeed,\nthey saw a difficulty, and, to prevent the evil of overpopulation,\nwere willing to allow certain remedies which, to modern sentiment, may\nappear harsh and inhuman; but they never doubted that in a\nwell-ordered State happiness was the common right of the many, not the\nspecial privilege of the few; and Aristotle in his _Politics_ lays it\ndown expressly as a reason why oligarchy is to be reckoned among the\nworst forms of government, that it assumes that power is to be used\nfor the interest of the few, not for the good of the many. The famous\nBenthamite formula, therefore, can be regarded only as a very\nappropriate war-cry for an oppressed democracy fighting against an\ninsolent oligarchy; to this praise it is justly entitled, and in this\nsphere it has no doubt been extensively useful; but as a maxim\npretending to enunciate a fundamental principle of ethical philosophy\nit has neither novelty nor pertinence.\n\nThe Utilitarian school, therefore, judged by its name, and by its\nfavourite shibboleth, has no distinctive character; and its chosen\nappellation merely shows an utter deficiency of the first principles\nof a scientific nomenclature. To say that morality consists in\nhappiness, falls logically under the same category with the\nproposition that a cat is an animal--we {269} knew that; but what we\nwish to know is, by what differentiating marks a cat is distinguished\nfrom other animals, and specially from others of the feline family.\nWherein does the special happiness of the creature called Man consist?\nAristotle, to my thinking, answered that question with as much\nprecision as it ever can be answered, and neither Hume nor Bentham\nadded anything to his definition. So far as these spokesmen of modern\nethics said that virtue consisted in acting according to reason, as\nnecessarily involving the greatest happiness of the reasonable being\ncalled Man, they said what was quite true, but nothing that was new;\nthey merely repeated the Stagirite, putting the element of\n\u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1 into the van, which he had wisely kept in the\nrear. So far as they went beyond this, they said what was neither new\nnor true, but only a refurbishment of the old doctrine of Epicurus,\nthat for man, as for beast, pleasure is the only good, and there is no\nneed of a distinctive phraseology for the happiness of creatures so\nessentially the same. What then is the distinctive character of\nUtilitarianism, if we fail to discover it in its name? for that the\nschool, as a matter of fact, does stand on a very distinct basis, and\nin an attitude of very decided antagonism to other systems, is\nunquestioned. Between Paley, the model churchman of the eighteenth\ncentury, and Bentham, the stereotyped hater of all churchmen,\nchurches, and creeds, there is no doubt a great gap; still there is a\nstrong family likeness even between these two extremes of the school;\nand the point in which this likeness asserts itself we think may be\nbest expressed by the phrase EXTERNALISM. From Thomas Hobbes of\nMalmesbury {270} down to Alexander Bain of Aberdeen, the morality of\nthe Utilitarians is a morality in which the moral virtue of the inner\nsoul is as much as possible denied, and the moral virtue of outward\ninstitutional or other machinery as much as possible asserted. Look\neverywhere for the origin of right and wrong--only not in the soul.\nThe kingdom of heaven, according to the prophets of this gospel, is\nnot within you, but without. This, if I am not mistaken, is the\nkeynote which gives a unity and a significance to all the variations\nof Utilitarianism from Bentham to Bain. Let us hear it in their own\nwords: \u201cWhat one expects to find in an ethical principle is\nsomething that points out some _external_ consideration as a means of\nwarranting and guiding the internal sentiments of approbation and\ndisapprobation:\u201d so Bentham. \u201cConscience is moulded on _external_\nauthority as its type.\u201d \u201cUtility sets up an _outward_ standard in\nthe room of an inward, being the substitution of a regard to\n_consequences_ for a mere _unreasoning sentiment_ or feeling:\u201d so\nBain. \u201cThe contest between the morality which appeals to an\n_external_ standard and that which grounds itself on _internal_\nconviction, is the contest of progressive morality against stationary;\nof reason and argument against the deification of mere opinion and\nhabit:\u201d so Mill. The assumptions implied in these last sentences, no\nless than the proposition stated, are peculiarly interesting. They are\nredolent of all that narrowness, exclusiveness, and dogmatism, which\nwe have already noticed as so characteristic of Bentham. It is assumed\nthat the advocates of an innate morality hold it to be a thing that\nacts apart from, or contrary to reason. It is assumed that moral\nprogress is possible only {271} under the action of an ethical system\nfounded on the doctrine of consequences, whereas experience has proved\nthat a morality of motives, such as Christianity contains, is as much\ncapable of expansion and of new applications as any other morality. It\nis assumed that all our sentiments and feelings, that is, the whole\nemotional part of our nature, is to be supposed false, till its right\nto exist and to energize shall have been approved by reason. But what\nif emotions be primary sources of all moral life, which reason indeed\nmay examine, but which it has no more authority to disown than it has\npower to create? What if the emotions and the sentiments, which you\ntreat with such disrespect, really supply the steam without which your\ncurious ratiocinative machinery were utterly worthless? But these\nquestions anticipate part of our coming argument. Meanwhile let\nEXTERNALISM stand here as the only significant designation for the\nsystem of ethics which we are now to examine; and let the word\nUTILITY be remitted to that limbo of vagueness and confusion whence\nit originally came forth.\n\nIt will be most convenient to treat this subject historically, because\nthis method will display in the clearest light the operation of that\none-sided reaction out of which the Lockian philosophy, no less than\nthe Benthamite Ethics took its rise. And here it will be manifest that\nwe cannot altogether escape metaphysics, however odious that word may\nsound to the general English ear; for in our inquiry we must find or\nassert certain first principles which form the foundation of all\nreason, whether practical or speculative; and though metaphysics, like\nclouds, are apt to be misty, they are just as certainly the {272}\nfountain of all moral science, as the clouds are the fathers of the\nrain, which supplies the water that moves the useful machinery of the\nmill. We must therefore start from Mr. Locke, the acknowledged father\nof whatever school of British thinking deserves the name of a\nphilosophy. No doubt before him came Hobbes; but this man stands\nalone, like a huge trap-rock bolt up in a flat country; and therefore\nwe shall let him lie over for a separate treatment, if opportunity\nshould occur; but in tracing up the main line of Utilitarian Ethics\nfrom Mill to Hartley, I found that they ended naturally and\nlegitimately in Locke, just as a net-work of waters may often be\ntraced to one common well-head. Now Locke is the father of what the\nGermans call the empirical philosophy. What does this mean? It simply\nmeans, as any one may see by a superficial glance cast on the first\nchapter of the \u201cEssay on the Human Understanding,\u201d that he\ncommenced his philosophy by a formal declaration of war against the\ndoctrine of INNATE IDEAS inherited by modern thinkers from the\nPlatonists of Athens, Alexandria, and Florence; and, if all innate\nsources of true knowledge are denied, then there remains for morality,\nas for everything else, only the source of external experience, which\ncomes to us not by nature but by acquisition; for according to the use\nof the English language, whatever things a man does not originally\npossess, he acquires. Locke, therefore, in the language of Plato and\nAristotle, denied the existence of \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7, or science properly so\ncalled, which is founded on necessary principles of internal reason,\nand asserted that all knowledge is to be got by \u1f10\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 or\nexperience, in other words, is what the {273} Germans call empirical.\nThat Locke\u2019s ideas on this fundamental question of all speculation\nwere anything but clear we shall see immediately; but on the face of\nthe matter the very noticeable thing is, that in rejecting the\ndoctrine of innate ideas the Englishman does not go directly to Plato\nand Plotinus, the sources from which this doctrine had come, but he\ngoes to war with certain floating loose notions of Herbert and other\ndreamy speculators of his own or the previous generation. Now, this is\nevidently a method of proceeding altogether unphilosophical. If a man\nmeans to refute Christianity scientifically, he does not go to the\nbooks of the Jesuits, but to the New Testament. So the refutation of\nthe doctrine of innate ideas should have commenced with the\nexamination of Plato, its original promulgator. But it was Locke\u2019s\ndestiny to fight against Plato as Bacon fought against Aristotle,\nwithout knowing his adversary. The consequence was in both cases the\nsame; a real battle against a real adversary, and a real victory on\nthe one side against a real defeat on the other; but not the victory\nand not the adversary supposed. The world, however, always willing to\nbe deceived by names, gave the combatants credit for having done a\nmuch greater thing than they had really achieved; it was not the mock\nimage of \u00c6neas, but the real \u00c6neas that Diomede had routed in the\nfight. And so it came to be an accepted fact in this country with\nlarge classes of persons that Locke had driven Plato out of the field,\njust as Bacon had quashed Aristotle. And the deception in the case of\nLocke has lasted longer; and that for a very obvious reason. The\nphysical science movement {274} inaugurated by Bacon led much more\nnaturally to a recognition of the true Aristotle than to a recovery of\nthe genuine Plato. It suited the practical genius of John Bull to\nregard the severe Idealist as a transcendental dreamer; and Mr. Locke\ntaught him to put this shallow prejudice into dignified and grave\nlanguage. A thinker who does such a service to any nation is pretty\nsure to be overrated; and so it fared with Mr. Locke, who besides\nbeing a thinker was a sensible man, and on public affairs held liberal\nopinions in harmony with the progressive element of the age.\nAccordingly a recent juridical writer of the Utilitarian school has\nnot scrupled to call him in the most unqualified terms, \u201cthe\ngreatest and best of philosophers.\u201d[274.1] With this partial\nverdict, however, we do not find that foreign writers agree; and the\nfollowing estimate of the merits of our typical English Philosopher by\na recent German writer, is unquestionably nearer the truth.\n\u201cPrecision and clearness, perspicacity and distinctness, are the\ncharacteristic of Locke\u2019s writings. Acute rather than deep in\nthinking, he is true to the character of his nationality.\u201d[274.2] So\nmuch for the position of our great English \u201cempiric.\u201d Let us now\nlook more nicely at his doctrine, and the reasons of it.\n\nThe philosophy against which Locke argues is, that there exist\n\u201ccertain innate principles, primary notions, \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f14\u03bd\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9,\ncharacters, as it were, stamped on the mind, which the soul receives\nin its very first being, and brings into the world with it\u201d--(i. 2.)\nAnd the assertion of the belief in these innate ideas, he afterwards\nindicates to have approved itself \u201ca {275} short and easy way for\nlazy people, and of no small advantage for those who affect to be\nmasters and teachers. Nor is it a small power it gives one man over\nanother to have the authority to be the dictator of principles, and\nteacher of unquestionable truth, and to make men swallow that for an\ninnate principle which may serve his purpose who teacheth them\u201d--(i.\n4. 24.) From these words it is plain that Locke protested against the\ndoctrine of innate ideas, in the same spirit, and with the same\nobject, that Luther did against the doctrine of the infallibility of\nthe Pope; his mission, he considered, was to rouse reason from its\nlethargy, and to teach men to think with open eyes, not blindly to\nbelieve; and, in so far as he meant this, the mission of the\nphilosophical, as of the religious reformer, was unquestionably right.\nBut, as above remarked, in making this protest, he was fighting\nagainst the language of Plato without knowing, or, so far as we can\nsee, ever attempting to know the ideas of Plato. This will be more\nmanifest from the arguments which he uses. \u201cIf there be such innate\nprinciples,\u201d says he, \u201cit is strange that children and idiots have\nno apprehension of them; children do not join general abstract\nspeculations with their sucking bottles and rattles\u201d--(i. 2.) \u201cIf\nwe attentively consider young children, we shall have little reason to\nthink that they bring many ideas into the world with them\u201d--(i. 4.\n2.) These are Mr. Locke\u2019s words, and they certainly indicate a\nconception of the doctrine of innate ideas the most crass and crude\nthat could well be conceived. Assuredly neither the Athenian, nor the\nAlexandrian, nor the Florentine Platonists, ever dreamt of anything so\nabsurd. Surely Plato knew that children {276} did not march into the\nworld with Euclid\u2019s axioms in their mouth, nor did he believe that\neven a miraculous baby, like himself, came out of his mother\u2019s womb\narmed cap-\u00e0-pie with all the principles of the ideal philosophy, like\nPallas Athena out of the head of Jove. What Plato actually said was,\nthat everything was what it grew to be by virtue of a divine type,\nwhich lay in the germ, and which type was the expression of an\nenergizing thought in the Divine mind; and this type, form, or idea\n(\u03b5\u1f36\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2), he called innate, because it was possessed originally\nas part of the internal constitution of the thing, not acquired from\nwithout. Who the men were who in Locke\u2019s day or before him,\nmaintained the existence of ready-made, panoplied, and full-grown\nideas in the minds of idiots and babies, I do not know; but, so far as\nthe Platonists were concerned, the Englishman was fighting with a\nshadow. Idiots, in any case, as imperfect and abnormal specimens of\ntheir kind, have nothing to do with the argument; and as to children,\nthe things that sleep within them cannot, in the nature of things, be\nknown till they grow up into full leafage and burst in perfect\nblossom. Inborn ideas are not the less inborn because they do not\nexist full-grown at the moment of birth. They did exist for ever in\nthe original self-existent Divine mind; they do exist in the derived\nexistence of the human mind the moment it awakens into consciousness\nof its individualism. In either case they are not acquired; they are\npossessed. Plato\u2019s doctrine, therefore, was, that the germ of all\nhuman ideas lies in the human mind, and is developed from within, not\nderived from anything external. In this, there cannot be the slightest\ndoubt that he spoke wisely; {277} as little that Mr. Locke wrote most\nunwisely, when, in accounting for the origin of our ideas, he said,\n\u201cthe senses at first let in particular ideas and furnish _the empty\ncabinet_.\u201d Here we fall in with one of Mr. Locke\u2019s short similes,\nwhich have proved more effective in spreading his doctrine than his\ndiffuse and somewhat wearisome chapter. \u201cOne of the most common\nforms of fallacious reasoning,\u201d says Mr. Mill, \u201cis that of arguing\nfrom a metaphysical expression as if it were literal.\u201d[277.1] This\nis precisely the error which seems to have run away with the wits of\nthe sensation-philosophers, when they read Mr. Locke\u2019s chapter on\nthe Origin of Ideas. The mind was \u201can empty cabinet,\u201d--if empty,\nit had merely a holding or containing power, before it was filled and\nfurnished altogether and absolutely from without. But a single word\nwill show the inadequacy and the utter falsity of this style of\ntalking. The senses (as Plato long ago showed in the _The\u00e6tetus_) let\nin no _ideas_, they let in _impressions_, which the plastic power of\nmind elaborates into ideas; and again, the mind is in nowise like an\nempty cabinet, in which the senses hang up ready-painted pictures; but\nthe mind, in so far as it creates ideas, and not merely experiences\nsensations, both paints the pictures and hangs them up, and this it\ndoes by an inherent divine power and divine right, of which no mere\nsensation can give any account. In fact there is nothing more hopeless\nthan an attempt to explain the genesis of ideas, connected as it is\nwith the miraculous fact of consciousness, by any sensuous process. It\nwere much nearer the truth to adopt the strong language of a\ndistinguished Scotch metaphysician, and say that {278} \u201cman becomes\nan I or a conscious being, not in consequence of or even on occasion\nof his sensations, but actually in spite of them.\u201d[278.1] The real\nfact of the matter is, as any one may observe in the reasonings of\nyoung persons, that in the formation of ideas the mind is active, not\npassive; and this distinction is strongly expressed in the very\nstructure of some languages, in which verbs, expressive of mere\nsensation, such as verbs of smelling, are followed by the case which\nbelongs to the passive voice, whereas verbs which express both a\nsensation and an intellectual idea, imposed on the sensuous expression\nby the plastic mind, demand the case which belongs to the presence of\nan active and transitive force. The healthy instincts of the human\nrace manifested in the common uses of language, are often more to be\ntrusted in such matters than the subtleties of metaphysicians. Nature,\nat least, which the popular instinct follows, is always complete;\nspeculation is apt to be one-sided. If we will have a simile that may\nexpress both sides of the wonderful fact of knowledge, we may say\nsensation supplies the materials, but the manufacturer of ideas is\nMIND.\n\nI said above that Mr. Locke was a sensible man; and it is nothing\ncontrary to this to admit that by the incautious use of one or two\nstrong similes--\u201cthe empty cabinet, the sheet of blank paper, and\nthe dark room,\u201d--he became the originator of a school which made\nitself famous by the ingenious maintenance of the nonsense that\njudgment and sensation are the same thing. A vain Frenchman, pleased\nto utter glittering paradoxes in gay saloons, might say this, might\neven go so far as to parade the proposition {279} that if horses had\nonly possessed human hands they would have been men, and if men had\nbeen armed with equine hoofs they would have been horses; such\nparadoxes were, no doubt, a logical deduction from the doctrine that\nsensation is the father of ideas, and that all internal faculties are\nthe result of mere external forces; but Mr. Locke was too much of a\nsolid and sober Englishman to allow himself to be led into sheer\nnonsense by the charm of mere logical consistency, and chose rather to\nprove his good sense by his inconsistency. After asserting in the\nstrongest terms that the only origin of ideas is sensation, he goes on\nto divide ideas into ideas of sensation and ideas of reflection, which\ndivision instantly suggests the question--_What is reflection, and\nwhence comes the reflecting power?_ And by raising this question the\nempirical speculator at once brings in the whole of Platonism and\ninnate ideas by a side gate, just after they had been driven out at\nthe grand entrance; for how can this question be answered except in\nthe well-known words of Leibnitz--\u201c_Nihil est in intellectu quod non\nprius fuerit in sensu_, NISI INTELLECTUS IPSE.\u201d Mr. Locke\u2019s\nsuccessors, however, have shown no inclination to follow his example\nin this respect. They have been ambitious of the cheap popular virtue\nof consistency, which even thieves and murderers may achieve; and\nverily they have had their reward. Their master may be compared to a\nman who held out a poison in his right hand, and administered\nforthwith the antidote with his left. His followers, from Helvetius to\nMill, thinking--naturally enough perhaps--that the right hand\ncontained the right thing, instantly snapt it up and ran away with it,\nnot choosing to encumber {280} themselves with the incongruous bounty\nof the left. The fruit has been that climax of nonsense in which half\ntruths always issue when left to blossom by themselves. The\none-sidedness of the philosophy taken from Locke\u2019s right hand,\nwhich, in a popular way we may call Materialism, culminates in the\nNihilism of John Stuart Mill. Under his cunning manipulation not only\nmind vanishes but the outward world also. \u201cIt may be safely laid\ndown as a truth that of the outward world we know and can know\nnothing, except the sensations which we experience from it; ontology\ntherefore is not possible.\u201d So what Plato called the human mind and\nthe New Testament the human soul, becomes only a bundle of sensations.\nBut the fallacy involved in this phraseology is easily pointed out.\nInstead of saying, We know nothing but sensations, he ought to have\nsaid, Nothing but sensations, and the thoughts or ideas vulgarly\ncalled classes of things and laws of nature which we recognise in the\noutward world, by virtue of the thoughts and ideas that arise out of\nthe necessary action of the thinking Unity, the Creator of thoughts\nand ideas within us; and an ontology therefore is possible, because we\nknow what we are as thinking beings by the very act of thinking, and\nwe know what the world is as the general and absolute thought, or\nrather the product and manifestation of absolute thought, by the\nrecognised identity of its working and products with the working and\nproducts of our own minds. In other words, Thought, or Reason, or\nMind--God the absolute thought, and man in his little world of limited\nthinking, is the only thing that is or can be meant by an ontology,\nand is known partly as direct fact, partly as indirect, but {281}\nassured inference from unequivocal manifestation. This is the common\nsense of the whole matter; and whosoever will not accept this may\ncontent himself with Nihilism and Atheism. I cannot.\n\nSo much for the strictly metaphysical part of the empirical doctrine.\nLet us now consider shortly its application to morals. \u201cMoral\nprinciples,\u201d says Mr. Locke (i. 3), \u201care even further removed than\nintellectual ones from any title to be innate. Will any one say that\nthose who live by fraud and rapine have innate principles of truth\nwhich they allow and assent to?\u201d This question displays in the most\nvivid manner the extraordinary misconception, not to say\nwrong-headedness, which possessed the English philosopher as to this\nwhole matter. The nature of innate ideas implies neither universality\nnor inaccessibility to corruption. A man may be born with an innate\nsense for music, though all his fellows were as harsh as asses or as\ndeaf as stones. If some men are colour-blind, and others purblind, and\nothers altogether blind, these defects, inadequacies, or total\neclipses of vision, do not make light intrinsically a less enjoyable\nthing, or the healthy eye an organ less marvellously adapted for\nenjoying it. As with vision so with morals. A whole population given\nto drunkenness does not make drunkenness a whit less beastly, nor will\nthe general practice of fraud and rapine render the appropriation of\nmy labour by another man\u2019s rapacity a whit more reasonable. Again\nsays Mr. Locke (i. 3, 4), \u201cThere cannot any one moral rule be\nproposed whereof a man may not justly demand a reason,\u201d from which\nsentence it plainly appears, that, whereas by innate ideas Plato means\nthe necessary expression of reason in a normally developed {282} mind,\nLocke understands by them some blind unaccountable impulse independent\nof and extrinsic to reason. The supplying of a reason for any course\nof action, say for speaking the truth or keeping a man\u2019s word, does\nnot in the least make that course of action less the product of a\ntruthful instinct in nature, or an innate love of truth. Morality is\nnot the less innate because it is reasonable; but inasmuch as it is an\nessential element in the universal or divine Reason, in virtue of this\nit is necessarily an inborn quality in the individual or human reason,\nalways of course with the probability of those large exceptions and\ndefections which the very nature of finite existence implies. But we\nneed not detain ourselves with a chapter of such shallow\nmisunderstandings. The immoralities and follies of men, though a\nthousand times as many as they are, no more affect the inborn\nnecessity and absolute immutability of the moral law, than the false\nsumming of a class of schoolboys affects the relations of number.\nErrors are as common in arithmetic as in morals; only men hire those\nspecial pleaders, their passions, to justify the moral law, while the\narithmetical blunder is exposed by the master of accounts. But though\nMr. Locke argues against the existence of innate ideas in morals with\neven more self-gratulation than in his psychological account of the\nformation of ideas, we are not to suppose that his ethical theory was\nin any respect identical with that of the modern Utilitarians. He\nsowed the seed for their doctrine, no doubt, but himself had his\ngarner well stored with grain from a very different source. He was a\nChristian, and believed in Divine law; he was a theist and believed in\nGod. The modern Utilitarian believes only in a bundle of {283}\nsensations and in an invariable sequence. By denying innate ideas of\nmorality, Mr. Locke, as his illustrations prove, only meant to\nproclaim the very obvious fact, that, as all men obviously do not\nagree in their principles of action, it is reasonable to demand of\nthem some reason for accepting one principle of action rather than\nanother. No man can object to such a reasonable demand. But this does\nnot prevent him in another place (ii. 33. 11), from talking, as no\nmodern Utilitarian would, of \u201cthe unchangeable rule of right and\nwrong which the law of God hath established.\u201d This method of\nspeaking, common to Locke I believe with many of the most solid\nthinkers of his time, would lead me to class his ethical doctrine\nunder the rubric of what might be called THEOCRATIC INSTITUTIONALISM;\nthat is to say, he looks on morality as the result of a law laid down\nand sanctioned by the ultimate source of all laws, physical as well as\nmoral. This, no doubt, seems to imply something arbitrary, which\nneither Plato nor Aristotle would allow to be possible in any of the\nfundamental manifestations of Divine reason; but notwithstanding this\npreference of the word \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, _law_, to \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, _nature_, had\nthe English thinker been cross-questioned on the subject, he would\nprobably have said that these institutions or laws which God lays on\nman flow necessarily from the excellence of the Divine nature; and\nthis would have been pure Platonism. That he was sound-hearted at\nbottom no less than sound-headed, his book amply proves,\nnotwithstanding the confusion of ideas in which he entangled himself\nby the assertion of propositions which, when logically followed out,\nlead directly to materialism in philosophy, atheism in theology, and\nsensualism in morals.\n\n{284}\n\nThe next significant name in the genealogical tree of modern\nUtilitarianism is DAVID HARTLEY. As it was the distinction of Mr.\nLocke to have given respectability to the vulgar British prejudice\nagainst innate ideas, so the claim of Hartley to reputation rests on\nhis having first given prominence to the doctrine of the association\nof ideas, a doctrine which from its originator down to the most recent\ntimes, plays an important part in every form and phasis of speculative\nand practical externalism. Hartley was a Yorkshireman, born at Armley,\nnear Leeds, in the year 1705, educated at Cambridge originally for the\nChurch; but having a thoughtful mind and a tender conscience, he did\nnot feel himself in a condition to subscribe the Church Articles in\nthe offhand way which academical morality sanctioned; and accordingly\nbetook himself to the study of medicine, an art which he afterwards\npractised with success, first in Newark and London, and then at Bath,\nwhere he died. These facts are of great significance, as indicating\nthe remarkable combination in his character and works of an extremely\nsensitive evangelic morality, with a tendency to give physical\nexplanations of spiritual operations, from which evangelic moralists\nare naturally averse. The object of his great work, _Observations on\nMan_, published in the year 1749, is to give a complete treatise of\nhuman nature on the inductive method of Locke and Newton; and\naccordingly the first volume, which contains his most peculiar views,\nis merely a following into detail of the doctrine of Locke, that all\nour knowledge proceeds from sensation, and that ideas in the brain are\nthe product of impressions on the sensuous nerves. This one-sided\nnotion Hartley {285} pursues into the inmost network and curious\nmembranous wrappings of the brain, and by the action and reaction and\ninteraction of vibrations and vibratiuncles in that region, attempts\nto explain the generation of thought and reasoning; and this he does\nthrough long chapters, and with not a little iteration, in language\nthan which the most extreme materialist could desire nothing more\ncrass. In fact, we find in Hartley the great precursor of those\nmasters of physical science in the present day, who seem to expect\nsome important discovery in mental science from the curious comparison\nof cerebral structure in the monkey and the man. A few short extracts\nwill make this more obvious. \u201cSimple ideas,\u201d he says, \u201crun into\nclusters and create complex ideas\u201d--(i. 75.) Here we have that vague\nuse of the word \u201cidea,\u201d which serves equally for a sensation and a\nthought, and which lies at the bottom of all that strange confusion of\nthought which runs with such unhappy persistency through all the\nspeculations of Mr. Locke. Again, \u201cIdeas, intellect, memory, fancy,\naffections, will, all these are of the same original, and differ only\nin degree, or some accidental circumstance; they are all deducible\nfrom the external impressions made on the senses, the vestiges, or\nideas of these, and their mutual connexion by means of association\ntaken together and operating on one another\u201d (i. 80). And in harmony\nwith this (i. 101), he afterwards gives a formal derivation of ideal\nvibratiuncles from sensory vibrations; and (103) talks of that \u201cidea\nor state of mind, _i.e._ set of compound vibratiuncles, which we term\nthe WILL;\u201d and again (p. 212) he says, \u201cthe permanence of\nsensations is of the nature of an idea.\u201d Here the great {286}\nmystery which puzzled the Greeks so much, the mysterious bond which\nunites the \u1f15\u03bd and the \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac--the one and the many--is solved\nvery decidedly, as it would appear, on the Epicurean side. It is not\nthe one which produces the many, but the many which produce the one;\nthe one--what I call Mind, Will--is only a modification of the many.\nThe radical objection to all this is that every man who is not a\nprofessional metaphysician feels it to be nonsense; the popular\nfeeling protests; Shakespeare, who represents the thoughts and the\nlanguage of a high and a healthy humanity, never talks in this style;\nand, more than that, the profoundest thinkers from Plato down to Hegel\nfind in the proposition that thought is manufactured out of sensations\na much greater mystery than that which this theory was invented to\nexplain. One feels conscious that sensations might go on for ever, and\nnot produce anything that had the slightest semblance to a thought;\njust as rain and sunshine acting on thistle-down from summer to summer\nproduce only thistles and not roses. It appears, indeed, that our\ninductive philosopher is here involving himself in the vulgar fallacy\nof confounding the occasion or the condition of a thing with the\ncause. An accidental occasion, or an indispensable condition, are\nequally remote from the idea of a cause. The accidental occasion, for\ninstance, of a house being built on a certain site, is that a certain\ngentleman, happening to take a walk in a certain district, and being\nnot averse to house-building, determines to have a house on that site;\nthe indispensable condition of the house being erected is that there\nshould be a site for it to stand on, and stone and lime for it to be\nbuilt with; but the only proper efficient {287} cause of the house\nbeing a house is the mind of the architect, the plan which that mind\noriginates, and the instructions which he gives to the contractor, and\nthe contractor to the masons. The sensuous tendency which Hartley\u2019s\nmedical studies had given to his thoughts comes out strongly in\nanother passage (i. 342), where he attempts to explain the evidence of\nmathematical axioms:--\u201cWe infer that 2+2=4 only from prior instances\nof having actually perceived this; and from the necessary coincidence\nof all these instances with all other possible ones.\u201d This recalls a\nfamous passage in J. Stuart Mill\u2019s treatise against Sir W. Hamilton,\nin which he stamps with his authority the ingenious demonstration of a\nLondon barrister, to the effect that \u201cin some possible world two and\ntwo may make five\u201d--where, however, the more recent is grandly\nconsistent as compared with the wavering double-sidedness of the more\nancient speculator. The fact of the matter is, that Hartley, like\nLocke, was swayed at bottom by a sound sense and a lofty religious\nphilosophy which crossed his mechanical theories; whereas the modern\nthinker, not believing in Mind, properly so called, at all, but only\nin a bundle of sensations and a thread of associations, like the\nRomanist Transubstantiation doctors, had no scruple in flinging open\ndefiance in the face of Reason, and making a public ovation of\nunmitigated nonsense. Such is the natural culmination of all one-sided\nphilosophizing. The seed of a favourite fancy grows up into a stately\ndogma; the dogma blossoms into a paradox; and the paradox ripens into\nan absurdity. The extreme nonsensicality of Mill, and the mildly\nmodified error of Hartley with regard to {288} the nature of\nmathematical evidence, arise from the same cause. They are only the\nnatural expression of the principle that thought is sensation and\nsensation is thought; thought the matured sensation, and sensation the\nnascent thought. Mill denies altogether the existence of thought as a\ndistinct thing from sensation; therefore he is quite consistent to say\nthat in some possible world two and two may make five; for it is as a\nthing thought, and not as a thing perceived, that in the science of\nnumber 2+2=4. Mill, in fact, by this paradox, with a hardihood of\nconsistency which is almost sublime, denies the possibility of science\naltogether; there is no \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03bc\u03b7 of any kind possible any\nmore than ontology; only \u1f10\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 is possible--an experience\nof something that is accidentally what it is, and may have been\notherwise. This is the highest power of what the Germans call the\n\u201cLockian empiricism;\u201d and Mr. Mill in asserting the contingency of\nall science, has argued, as a good logician could not but do, from\nthat half of the truth of things which it has been the unfortunate\ndestiny of him and his school to mistake for the whole. As for\nHartley, he qualifies his one-sidedness with a condition which takes\nthe sting from its nonsense, and, like Locke, saves himself by a very\ntransparent inconsistency; for he talks of a \u201c_necessary_\ncoincidence\u201d of a certain number of observed equalities with all\npossible equalities; interpolating thus into the product of sensations\nthe idea of necessity which belongs to a different region altogether,\nand by no possibility could grow out of a mere succession of sensuous\nimpressions and nervous thrills, however often repeated. A tide-waiter\nmay feel convinced that the tide will {289} flow to-morrow just as it\nhas flowed to-day, and has flowed regularly ever since he began to\nobserve its motions; but no degree of strength in this conviction\ncomes up to the certainty which every sane man has that two and two\nnot only always do make four, and always have made four, but in every\npossible world must make four. The two certainties differ not in\ndegree only but in kind; and mathematical demonstration having to do\nonly with thoughts, the creation of pure mind, cannot in the slightest\ndegree be affected by any complete or incomplete realization of these\nthoughts in any time, past, present, or to come. When I say that all\nthe angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, or that the\nangle at the centre of a circle is double the angle at the\ncircumference, I prove this from certain necessary relations of lines\nto lines drawn under conditions of which my thought is the absolute\nmaster. The proof is only the evolution of what lies in the thing,--of\nwhat cannot be otherwise, so long as the figure remains subject to the\ndictatorial power of my conception.\n\nIt will be now quite evident from these specimens, that Hartley\u2019s\nphilosophy is just the sensuous side of Locke worked curiously into\ndetail, with a practical rejection of the intellectual side. Indeed,\nhe says expressly (i. 360) that \u201call our most complex ideas arise\nfrom sensation, and REFLECTION IS NOT A DISTINCT SOURCE, as Mr.\nLocke makes it.\u201d This throwing of reflection overboard is the\nnecessary postulate of all the absurdity that afterwards grew out from\nthe Lockian philosophy; and James Mill accordingly[289.1] disowns the\n\u201cideas of reflection\u201d with {290} the same fatal one-sideness, and,\nit may be added, with the same transparent superficiality of logic;\nfor when a man talks of \u201cgeneralizing states of consciousness,\u201d\nwhat is this but another term for reflection? Generalizing is a\nspecies, and one of the most universally practised species, of\nreflection.\n\nIt was necessary to be thus particular about Hartley\u2019s doctrine on\nthe generation of ideas, because, as expressed in the above passages,\nit is one of the broadest statements of Externalism possible, and if\nconsistently followed out, as it has been by the Mills, neither morals\nnor mathematics can escape from its grasp. According to this doctrine\nthere exists no morality founded on the eternal reasons and relations\nof things, but all notions of right and wrong proceed from association\nalone, from clusters of ideas which are only modified sensations,--all\naffection as well as all reasoning being the mere result of\nassociation--(i. 499.) Let us now inquire a little more closely what\nthis ASSOCIATION is, which performs such marvels in the\ntransmutation of sensations into ideas; for surely never was a word so\nlargely used by philosophical writers in recent times, and so\nvillainously abused. Association is a popular term, and therein\nprecisely lies its large capacity of doing harm, when sophistically\nused. Now what it means in popular language is pretty plain. When I\nthink of London I think of beauty, splendour, magnitude, multitude,\nwealth, din, incalculable noise of rattling cabs above ground and of\nscreeching railways under ground. These are my associations with\nLondon. When I think of Oxford, I think of Greek and Grammars and\nsquare caps, of {291} mitres, and lawn sleeves, High Church and Broad\nChurch, learning and luxury, bigotry and boating, cricket, cram, and\nscholarly conceit. When I think of the Highlands, I think of Bens and\nGlens, of lochs and waterfalls, of steamboats and tourists, of\nsalmon-fishing, grouse-shooting, deerstalking. Free Churches,\nuntrousered legs, and Ossianic poems. There does not seem much mystery\nin this. Ideas must hang together somehow or other; if they did not,\nthey would be like a swarm of mad bees in our head, and would reel\nabout in an unmanageable chaos; if therefore they are to hang together\nin some way, what more natural than that those ideas which come in\ntogether should remain together, and that those which have a family\nlikeness and affinity should arrange themselves into companies. Add to\nthis the natural tendency of black to recall white, and of life to\nsuggest death, and you have the whole three bonds of association among\nhuman thoughts and emotions--contiguity, similarity, and contrast--of\nwhich philosophical writers make parade. Now what is the place which\nbelongs to this popular principle of association in a system of\nmetaphysics or mental philosophy? To me its place appears a very\nsecondary one; and to give it any place at all we must carefully\ndistinguish between accidental and necessary, between ephemeral and\neternal associations, the confounding of which rather seems to stand\nout as the prominent employment of the Sensation philosophers. There\nare two great classes of associations, the one principally of external\nand accidental, the other of internal and necessary origin; the one\ndominant in weak minds, the other in strong minds; the one common to\nus with the brutes, the {292} other altogether impossible to brutes;\nthe one more in the manner of a loose bundle, the other in the style\nof a stable architecture. With people not much given to think\nconsecutively ideas are apt to hang together by certain mere\nsuperficial points of attachment; like drifted matter on an open\nbeach, they lie just as they come in; the most incongruous things\ntogether all in a heap. Such associations, subjected to no controlling\nand discriminating power, are the fruitful source of all vain\nopinions, prejudices, senseless conceits, and hollow reasonings. With\nanother class of people, again, in whom a strict watch is always kept\nover the materials with which sense supplies the mind, we find a\ntotally opposite sort of associations. In this case the influence of\nthe external factor diminishes, while the internal factor comes\nlargely into play. The mind of such persons is not merely a mirror of\nsuch things as may chance to fall upon it, it is a commander-in-chief\nand a dictator, which discriminates, selects, and disposes according\nto an innate ordering faculty, which rejoices to trace out the cognate\norder which everywhere lives beneath the diverse surface of external\nthings. The former of these forms of association is always more or\nless arbitrary; the latter is imperatorial and absolute; the one\nclaims kinship with mere fancy and fashion; the other is reason in the\nrealm of imagination rejoicing in the discovery of what under various\nguises is only a manifestation of the eternally Reasonable. Now the\nfault of the Association theory as used by moralists of the\nUtilitarian school, is that they have left reason altogether out of\nthe account, and fixed their eyes exclusively on those external\nassociations {293} which form the principal furniture of the lower\nclass of minds; nay, they have gone further than this, and\nsystematically explained away the highest ideas, such as Beauty and\nDuty, into mere unsubstantial or monstrous products of some abnormal\nassociation! The applause which Alison received in Edinburgh by the\npublication of a treatise on Beauty, the drift of which was to resolve\nall our ideas of what is excellent in form or expression into mere\narbitrary association; is one of the great reproaches of the Scottish\nphilosophy. Similar ideas with regard to Duty are vented by Professor\nBain.[293.1] Here, as in every other case, we see that it has been the\nbusiness of the successors of Locke in this country to exaggerate his\nerrors and to omit his truths. With regard to association Mr. Locke\n(iii. 33) did the wiser thing when he treated it not as the handmaid,\nmuch less as the substitute, for reason, but rather as its great\nenemy; and in the domain of morals, particularly, Professor Ferrier\ndoes not overstate the matter when he says in his own eloquent way\nthat the Utilitarian philosophy presents to us \u201cnot the picture of a\nman, but that of a weathercock shifting helplessly in the winds of\nsensibility, a wretched association-machine, through which ideas pass,\nlinked together by laws over which the machine has no control.\u201d[293.2]\nAnd another sturdy Scotch thinker, yet alive, justly indignant at the\njuggle which has been played with this word, bursts out into the\nexclamation, \u201cThe Association psychology,--that barren bastard,\nbetween Materialism and Idealism, which, but intended as a jeer to the\npriest, is a disgrace to common-sense.\u201d {294} Thus the Scottish\ninterpreter of Hegel; but though these strong words, in the fulness of\ntheir meaning, may be applicable to his successors, Hartley certainly\nnever intended by his curious interplay of vibrations and\nvibratiuncles to jeer the ministers or to damage the cause of\nChristianity. In this respect he was a perfect parallel to Locke. He\nhad inherited the central idea of all true philosophy,--the idea of\nGod,--from Christianity; and he stuck by that. And if in his first\nvolume he seemed to derive the noblest thing internal from the basest\nthings external, to turn the whole miraculous world of thought and\nfeeling, as Ferrier says, into a wretched \u201cassociation-machine,\u201d\nit was not so bad after all; for behind the machine he believed also\nin the steam, and the imperial mind of Him who made the machine; so in\ntheology he remained a sound theist, and in morals he went so far as\nliterally to stumble on the paradoxical love of \u201cself-annihilation,\u201d\nso prominent in the transcendental ethics of Budd. Hartley was the\nmost pious and the most pure of metaphysical writers; and while he\nbalanced his first proposition that \u201csensations beget ideas\u201d by a\nsecond, that \u201cGod is the source of all Good\u201d (i. 114), and a\nthird, that \u201cFinal causes are the key to all mystery\u201d (i. 366), he\nmight launch his book into the world with a good conscience, and the\nsure hope of a good result, if only people would take him as a whole.\nThis, however, unfortunately, people had not the thought or the will\nto do; the fewest people, Goethe said, can comprehend a whole; so they\ntook up his sensuous association, and left his spiritual piety to\nfloat. He fared in this like St. Paul, whose sound sense, we read,\ncertain persons lightly dismissed, {295} who were forward to wrest his\nmore obscure doctrines to their own destruction.\n\nThere are two points generally discussed in ethical treatises, which\nbelong most naturally to our present rubric; _first_, whether moral\njudgments are performed by a separate faculty called Conscience;\n_second_, whether all our emotions are not originally selfish; whether\nbenevolence, like remorse, is not a derived and compounded rather than\nan original and simple element of our nature. To both these questions\nthe Association theory of Hartley gave the start; for with him, as we\nhave seen, everything is compounded; will, judgment, conscience,\nwhatever acts seem most emphatically to proceed from the imperial I\nwithin, are radically only transmuted sensations, the composite result\nof a curiously interwoven tissue of associations. Now there are no\nquestions in ethical science more easily answered than these.\nConscience is certainly not a separate faculty; it is an exercise of\njudgment, that is, of discriminating reason, accompanied with an\nemotion. You confess to me, for instance, as your friend, that on such\nand such an occasion, from a regard to some petty interest, or a\ndesire to curry favour with some influential person, you displayed a\ncowardly reticence, where an open profession of your sentiments would\nhave been advantageous to the cause of humanity; and you feel ashamed\nof your conduct. Here is nothing but Reason applied to action; and the\nemotion of self-reproach in reference to an unreasonable action, which\nis the exact correlative of the feeling of incongruity which attaches\nitself to a false proposition. Man is not a mere cognitive machine; he\nhas emotions of delight, which make him start from his seat {296} and\ncry out \u03b5\u1f55\u03c1\u03b7\u03ba\u03b1! at the naked perception of a purely speculative\ntruth, much more when he uses his reason on the most important acts\nthat concern the well-being of himself individually, and the society\nof which he is a part. Let anything very good be done by his tribe, or\nnation, or church, if he is a complete man he instantly flames up into\na noble enthusiasm, and becomes ambitious of attempting like deeds;\nlet anything very bad be done, he fumes, in grim indignation, or\nblushes with shame, and is ready to reproach and to condemn, and even\nto trample his proper self under foot. This is the most natural thing\nin the world; the necessary result of applying reason to action at\nall; for a man cannot act without motive power, that is, without\npassions, which may be either noble or base. But though there is no\nseparate faculty called Conscience, there is a peculiar sensibility of\nthe soul in reference to moral action, when judgment is pronounced by\nany individual on the character of any action which he has performed.\nSelf-condemnation, self-reproach, and, in their sharpest potency, what\nare called the stings of remorse, are judgments of reason accompanied\nby emotions, which well deserve a separate name; and just as for the\nclassical Latin _judicium_ when speaking of the fine arts, we now use\nthe peculiar word TASTE, so for our judgments of actions, with the\npeculiar emotions which accompany them, we use the word CONSCIENCE.\nIt is not a new word; it is as old as Periander and Bias;[296.1] it\nhas been used {297} by both heathens and Christians for more than two\nthousand years; and there is no reason why it should be abolished. The\nignoring of its compound character by incurious people can do no harm;\nits analysis into practical reason and passion by the more curious can\ndo little good. When, on the other hand, it is declared generally to\nbe the mere product of association, a great deal of harm may be done;\nfor from this doctrine a consistent one-sided moralist may prove that\nmorals are the mere creatures of habit, fashion, fancy, and caprice,\nas readily and with precisely the same warrant that Alison proved that\nbeauty is an accidental product of the same unreasoning elements. What\nwe ought to say is simply this--there is an enlightened conscience,\nand there is an unenlightened conscience; neither of these can act\nindependently of associations; for associations supply the bonds by\nwhich the materials of thought and feeling are bound into separate\nparcels; but the difference is this: in the enlightened conscience\nfeelings and actions are bound together by associations over which\ncultivated Reason has exercised a control; in the unenlightened\nconscience, where the emotions connected with the performance of\ncertain actions are the crude product of all sorts of random\ninfluences, it is natural that moral judgments should exhibit all\nsorts of inadequacy, perversity, and absurdity. To a conscience so\nconstituted the neglect of a piece of insignificant silly ceremonial\nmay cause more pain than the commission of a murder.\n\nAs to the sophistical refinement that all our social sympathies are\nfundamentally selfish, there can be no doubt that, under the influence\nof that passion for unity which is the inspiration of system-builders,\n{298} Hartley, after Hobbes, did common sense the dishonour of\npublicly propounding this theory. But he propounded it, after his\nfashion, in a very innocent way; in such a way indeed as to show that\nthe whole question arises out of a confusion of language, or, what is\nworse, a studied affectation of using words in a different sense from\nthat in which they are used by the vulgar.[298.1] To the thinker this\nis a matter of indifference; not so to the vulgar: they all insist in\nusing common words in their common sense, and allow the subtle\nqualifications of the philosopher to drop. It is strange, however, to\nobserve that there are even at the present day writers of pith and\njudgment who seem to imagine that there is something more than a mere\njuggle of words in this question. Mr. Barrett, in his _Physical\nEthics_, an ingenious and thoughtful work, says that \u201cthe merit of\nHartley was not only that he showed the ultimate selfishness of all\nmotives, but that he saw the true subordination among the various\nemotions, and their natural evolution from their simple elements.\u201d\nThis sentence, by the simple abuse of a single word, does great\ninjustice to Hartley. The word _selfishness_, in the classical use of\nthe English language, is a word of a very bad odour; it is equivalent\nto the \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03af\u03b1 of the Greeks, and means that excessive regard\nto self which leads a man to disregard and to disown the rights and\nfeelings of other selves in the complex social machine of which he is\na part. Now Hartley {299} does not use this word; he uses a word\ncapable also of a good meaning--_self-interest_, better still if he\nhad stumbled on Bentham\u2019s phrase, _self-regard_. But as it is, the\ningenious association-moralist (i. 458) divides self-interest into\nthree species--\n\n _Gross self-interest_,\n _Refined self-interest_, and\n _Rational self-interest_,\n\nwhich, when analysed, turn out to be altogether different things\nbaptized with the same name. If a rational self-interest convinces me\nthat, when I see my neighbour fall into the sea, it is my duty to jump\nin after him at the risk of being drowned myself, it requires an open\nforce put upon language to say that such an action is the result of\nany kind of deliberate self-regard; it seems more like the result of a\nsocial instinct, and so far from being the product of any sort of\nprudential calculation, it is more likely to be strangled in the first\nconception than brought to a brilliant birth by the consideration of\nself in any shape. It seems to me indeed quite unworthy of anything\nstyling itself philosophy to deal in such manifest quibbles. I might\nin a similar way, for instance, classify all religions under a common\nname, according as they are inspired by\n\n _Gross reverence_,\n _Refined reverence_, and\n _Rational reverence;_\n\nbut though the name is the same in all the three cases, the feeling\nmay be very different, and the {300} product altogether opposed; for\nthe gross reverence of vulgar superstition may be founded on fear,\nwhile the rational reverence of enlightened piety may be based on\nphilosophic wonder and on that perfect love which casteth out fear.\n\nMuch less ingenious than Hartley as a speculator, but more distinct,\nperspicuous, and effective as a writer, was Dr. PALEY, a man whose\nposition among the thinkers of the last century, though somewhat\ndwarfed by the contemporary magnitude of Hume and Bentham, will ever\nsecure him an honourable place among the preachers of the Utilitarian\ndoctrine. As an author, he commanded a wider circle of intelligent\nreaders than any of his contemporaries who handled the same subjects;\nhe was a Churchman too, the only clergyman, so far as I know, among\nthe Utilitarian doctors; and the last of that school--Austin only\nexcepted[300.1]--who did not think it a disgrace but an honour to keep\non friendly terms with Christianity. The salient points of his moral\nphilosophy are four--Utility, the doctrine of Consequences, the Will\nof God, and the Future life. Of the first, what remains to be said\nwill be said more opportunely when, in the next section, we shall have\nto discuss Hume; the doctrine of Consequences a passing hint under\nBentham will dismiss; and for the other two points a few sentences may\nsuffice. \u201cVirtue,\u201d according to Paley, \u201cis the doing good to\nmankind in obedience to the will of God for the sake of everlasting\nhappiness.\u201d {301} This definition characterizes the man, the book,\nthe age, the country, and the profession to which he belonged\nadmirably. It is a definition that, taken as a matter of fact, in all\nlikelihood expressed the feeling of nine hundred and ninety-nine out\nof every thousand British Christians living in these islands in the\ngeneration immediately preceding the French Revolution; still, it is a\ndefinition which contains as many errors as it contains clauses. In\nthe first place, as to the doing good to mankind, it is a principle\nwhich lies at the basis of the doctrine of Utility, and has its origin\ndoubtless not so much in modern anti-Christian systems as in the\nprominence which Christianity gives to works of charity and\nbrotherly-kindness; than which practically of course there can be\nnothing better, but as part of the definition of virtue in this place\nit is faulty; for virtue of various kinds may be exercised where no\nmen exist to be the objects of our benevolence, as with Adam in\nParadise, and Robinson Crusoe in his desert island, and the poet\nCampbell\u2019s Last Man. Then as to the Will of God, that no doubt is a\npower which overrules all; tides and tempests and thunderstorms must\nobey that, and human life of course no less; but what constitutes the\nDivine will, and how is it to be learned, in what way by the\nChristian, and in what other way by the unbeliever? Properly speaking,\nthe will of God rather expresses the ultimate source of virtuous\nconduct than furnishes a practical definition of its quality. Lastly,\nas to the everlasting happiness, this is the greatest blunder of the\nthree. It may no doubt be very true under the relations in which it\nwas spoken, that \u201cif in this life only we have hope in Christ we are\nof all men {302} most miserable:\u201d that was a sentence which applied\nwith the most vivid pointedness to St. Paul and to many others in\nsimilar circumstances; but it is very far from furnishing a warrant\nfor the general proposition that the sure expectation of an\neverlasting reward is a motive necessary for the existence of virtue\nin this mortal life. For if this really were the case, either the\nvirtue of Socrates was no virtue at all, or a virtue far above the\nstandard of any Christian virtue according to Paley\u2019s definition;\nfor Socrates died the death of a martyr with a very doubtful faith of\nwhat might happen to him after death. But, in fact, the prospect of an\nexternal reward is no part of any virtue, either Christian or\nheathen,--rather in many cases would annihilate the very idea of\nvirtue. To give away ten pounds to-day with the sure expectation of\ngetting a thousand pounds for it to-morrow would be no act of\ngenerosity. Aristotle says that a man is bound to be virtuous by the\ndistinctive law of his nature, whether he lives seventy years or seven\nhundred years; and Christianity surely ought to say no less. It is\nplain therefore that Dr. Paley was no great master of definitions.\nNevertheless he wrote a most useful practical book; such a book as\njustly commended itself to the practical English mind; such a book as\nmight have been expected from the finished manhood of a young man of\nwhom when he went to college it had been said by his father, that\n\u201che had by far the clearest head he had ever met with.\u201d A clear\nhead unquestionably is a most useful quality in business and in daily\nlife, but a quality which of itself will not make a great philosopher,\nor even a great man.\n\nDAVID HUME, born at Edinburgh in the year {303} 1710, was older than\nDr. Paley by more than thirty years, though we have placed Paley\nfirst, as with Locke and Hartley completing the band of decidedly\nChristian Externalists. But in Hume we find the father of an\naltogether new school, the real progenitor of that living sect of\nphilosophers whom the popular memory traces back no further than to\nBentham and James Mill. In him therefore we may reasonably expect to\nfind in one form or another all that came afterwards, some parts of\ncourse less worked out and less consistent, but the whole more rich,\nvarious, and complete; and, as in the case of Locke and Hartley, we\nmay probably have cause to rejoice that by a certain broad and\nsalutary inconsistency he saved himself from a narrow and pedantic\ndogmatism. We shall not therefore err in calling him comparatively a\ngreat man, but only comparatively; compared with the highest style of\nmen, great with first-rate position and constructive minds, he is not\ngreat; he is only rich, various, and subtle. Nevertheless in respect\nof those who followed him with kindred tendencies, his stature remains\nunapproached. He is, as Emerson says of Plato, \u201ca terrible destroyer\nof originalities.\u201d In the page of intellectual record he stands\nunquestioned as the man who shook all the easy thinkers of an easy\ncentury out of their easy seats with much observation; but there are\ntwo ways of shaking people out of their seats--first in the manner of\nan architect who pulls down a crazy old cabin in order that he may set\nquarrymen, masons, plasterers, carpenters, painters, and other\nartisans to work that they may erect a palatial structure in its\nstead; secondly, in the manner of a strong Samson, who shakes the\npillars of some temple of Dagon, and buries himself {304} and all the\nPhilistines beneath its roof. That this is too much the manner of Hume\nas a philosopher is obvious; only he does not actually die like\nSamson, but gets himself paralysed for a moment, and then recovers\npartially by virtue of that strong infection of common sense which, as\na Scotchman, he naturally had. We have called him a rich man; for\nunquestionably his treatise on the Principles of Morals, perhaps on\nthe whole the best of his works, exhibits him as at once a subtle\nthinker, a shrewd observer, and a graceful stylist, in a combination\nas happy as it is rare. The man of the world is present here as well\nas the philosopher; and perhaps the philosopher is not fully aware how\nmuch the acceptance of his abstract speculations is due to his secular\nshrewdness and his gentlemanly demeanour. But with all his wealth\nthere is a certain meagreness about Hume arising out of his ignorance\nand entire misprision of the past. It is difficult for a man to write\nwell on morals with an entire disregard of Aristotle and Plato, and\nwith a fashionable Parisian contempt for the New Testament. No doubt\nthis was to a great extent the misfortune of the philosopher rather\nthan his fault; yet the fact remains, and cannot but weigh heavily\nwith all who would make a true estimate of the permanent value of his\ncontributions to ethical philosophy. In Hume\u2019s time, as we have seen\nabove (p. 131), Aristotle had not yet recovered from the supposed\nblows inflicted on him by Bacon--\u201chis fame,\u201d to use Hume\u2019s own\nlanguage, \u201cwas utterly decayed;\u201d[304.1] and as for Plato, St.\nPaul, and St. John, our subtle Scotch David had no organ for them, and\ncould appreciate their excellence {305} as some kilted piper picked up\nfrom Celtic games at Braemar might be expected to appreciate the\nharmonies of Sebastian Bach. Greek certainly he had--the fruit of\nprivate study in his riper years--more than usually falls to the lot\nof Scottish philosophers; and what he had of that noble language he\nknew how to use more effectively and with more grace and originality\nthan many English scholars with ten times his erudition; but in\nreading his Principles of Morals I find no trace of any appreciation\nof the work done by his great Hellenic predecessors; on the contrary,\nI find the strange delusion possessing both him and Bentham that they\nwere commencing a new epoch, and doing for moral science what Newton\nhad done for physical, and what Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Zeno, not\nto mention St. Paul and St John, had altogether failed to do. Hume\u2019s\nown view of his relation to the ancient moralists is distinctly stated\nthus--\u201cI found that the moral philosophy transmitted to us by\nantiquity laboured under the same inconvenience that has been found in\ntheir natural philosophy, of being entirely hypothetical and depending\nmore on invention than experience; every one consulted his fancy in\nerecting schemes of virtue and happiness, without regarding human\nnature, upon which every moral conclusion must depend.\u201d[305.1] The\ncomplacent conceit of this passage to a man who really knows the\nancient moralists, {306} is only less ludicrous than the benign\nself-satisfaction which inspires the well-known overture to the\n_Deontology_ of Bentham. And the conceit becomes the more ludicrous\nwhen, in searching for this new principle which is to redeem ethics\nfrom fancifulness and transport it into certainty, we find nothing but\nthe old Socratic formula:--\n\n Reason + sentiment = virtue = happiness.\n\nNay more; he defines this sentiment to be \u201can internal sense or\nfeeling which nature has made universal in the whole species.\u201d\n_Risum teneatis, amici?_ Here we have the innate ideas of Plato, one\npart of them certainly, which Mr. Locke was supposed to have blown\ninto smoke. And afterwards, in language even more distinctly Platonic,\nin the section \u201cWhy Utility Pleases,\u201d he says, \u201cHad nature made\nno original moral distinctions independently of education,\ndistinctions founded on the original constitution of the mind, the\nwords _honourable_ and _shameful_, _lovely_ and _odious_, _noble_ and\n_despicable_, had never had place in any language; nor could\npoliticians, had they invented those terms, ever have been able to\nrender them intelligible, or make them convey any idea to the\naudience.\u201d We see therefore in these passages plainly, that Hume was\nby no means a thorough and consistent Externalist; he protests stoutly\nagainst Hobbes and all who declare that there is naturally no\ndifference between men and tigers till the policeman introduced it;\nand he does not seem to have approached Professor Bain\u2019s conception,\nthat Conscience is always and everywhere modelled on the statute-book.\nHe agrees entirely with Socrates in assigning to love and the {307}\nsocial affections--the \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03ac--as strong a sway in human\nsociety as to the selfish principle. Here his common sense and his\nknowledge of the world saved him signally from the perverse ingenuity\nof Hartley. It will be observed through all his works, indeed, that\nthough he was fond of puzzling himself as a thinker, he had\nfundamentally far more faith in the common instincts and feelings of\nthe great masses of men than in the conclusions of the metaphysicians.\n\u201cNature,\u201d he says wisely, \u201cwill always assert her rights, and\nprevail in the end over any abstract reasoning whatsoever;\u201d[307.1]\nwhile with regard to individual speculators he says, \u201cIt is easy for\na profound philosopher to commit a mistake in his subtle reasonings,\nand one mistake is the necessary parent of another, while he pushes on\nhis consequences, and is not deterred from embracing any conclusion by\nits unusual appearance or its contradiction to common sense.\u201d[307.2]\nAnd accordingly he makes no scruple of shelving the whole theory of\nthe Ethics of Selfishness by the single sentence that it \u201cseems to\nhave proceeded entirely from that love of simplicity which has been\nthe source of much false reasoning in philosophy.\u201d[307.3] What then\nhave we to lay hold of as distinctively Humian? Hitherto all is mere\nSocrates. A well-disciplined reason and a well-educated natural\ninstinct of benevolence acting together for the public weal.--This is\nUtility; this is Hume; this is Socrates also, and Aristotle; for these\ngreat ancient thinkers had the \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1 and the \u1f60\u03c6\u03ad\u03bb\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd in their\neye and on their tongue as {308} much as any modern Utilitarian. Where\nthen lies the differentiating element of this great progenitor of the\nmost modern school? The difference, we must reply, is partly\nimaginary, arising out of the gross misconception of the character of\nancient philosophy, transparent in all the writings of the\nUtilitarians; partly real, in so far as the ancients, while\nacknowledging Utility as a principle, kept Reason in the foreground,\nwhile the moderns push Utility into the van, and use Reason only as an\ninstrument to make that point alone prominent. The modern Utilitarian\naccordingly looks more to the consequences of the action, the ancient\nRationalist to the quality of the actor; but how this should be looked\nupon as a great discovery in morals, or as tending in any way to the\nelevation of human character or the regeneration of society, seems\ndifficult to understand. It rather appears to me that the prominence\nthus given to the results of action has a tendency to turn the eye of\nmen away from the great work of purifying the sources of action, the\nfoulness of which is the constant cause of foul results; prudential\nconsiderations will be very apt to obtain undue preponderance; and\neverywhere, as Lecky observes, \u201cthe philosophy of sensation will be\nfound to be accompanied with the morals of interest.\u201d\n\nThe extreme meagreness of the Utilitarian doctrine as thus produced\nfrom the propositions of its great progenitor, is something so\nremarkable that one is naturally driven to look about for some cause\nthat may have given artificial importance to a matter in itself so\ninsignificant; and this cause, so far as I can discover, lies nowhere\nso much as in the general reaction against Christianity which\ndistinguished the {309} age of which Voltaire in France was the great\nspokesman, Hume in Scotland, and Bentham in England. Reaction is the\nuniversal law of all mundane forces: and it was not to be expected\nthat Christianity should escape it. Christian ethics being based\npurely, as we have seen, on a regard to the will of God, on purity of\nmotive, and lofty self-sacrifice, even had they been left to work in\nall their natural integrity, would have demanded a doctrine of moral\nconsequences to neutralize the necessary one-sidedness of their\naction. To have a good conscience was a most excellent thing, but to\nhave a clean shirt was also a virtue. The Divine sanction given by\nChristian piety to Christian morals was naturally beneficial, but it\nwas also possible, or rather from human weakness almost certain, that\nthe science of human ethics might lose as much as it gained from\nalliance with Christian theologians, who are only too apt to \u201cbend\nevery branch of knowledge to their own purposes, without much regard\nto the phenomena of nature, or to the unbiassed sentiments of the\nmind.\u201d[309.1] Add to this the tawdry mummeries of ritualism, the\ninsolence of haughty churchmen, the gross worldliness of fat\nbeneficiaries, the morbid sanctitude of pietistical devotees, the\nunnatural austerities of monkish ascetics, and the grim severity of\ndamnatory dogmatists, and we shall easily understand how a revulsion\nshould have taken place, which would not be content till on the throne\nof morals it had supplanted Christ by Socrates, and Socrates by\nEpicurus. And this consideration opens up to us the second notable\nachievement of the subtle Scot in the important field of morals. Not\ncontent with {310} withdrawing virtue as much as possible from the\nregion of personal sentiment into the wider domain of social\nwellbeing, he determined to strike at the root of the whole evil, as\nit appeared to him, by not only attacking Christianity, but by\nundermining that primary idea of CAUSALITY on which the idea of\nreligion and the very conception of a God reposes. This was a daring\nbusiness no doubt; but Hume was not the man to take things of that\nnature overseriously; he would keep himself quite easy as to results;\nhe would not make himself miserable by any unnecessary enthusiasm even\nfor his own philosophy;[310.1] if he did not choke the Church-doctors,\nhe would at least give them something to chew; and at all events he\nmight effect a permanent divorce between human ethics and that\nsectarian theology to which it had been so unpropitiously yoked.\n\nThe foundation of this monstrous doctrine of ATHEISM is laid by our\nsubtle Scotch Epicurus in the following way. In his chapter entitled\n\u201cSceptical Doubts,\u201d speaking of the origin of our ideas of _cause\nand effect_, he says, \u201cWhen we find that any particular objects are\nconstantly conjoined with each other, as the communication of motion\nby one billiard-ball to another, this knowledge arises entirely from\n_experience_, and is not a matter of _\u00e0 priori_ reasoning.\u201d Again:\n\u201cThe effect in this and in every case is totally different from the\ncause; the conjunction of every effect with its cause must appear\narbitrary; every effect is in fact a distinct event from its cause.\nHence we may discover the reason why no philosopher who is rational\nand modest has ever pretended {311} to assign the ultimate cause of\nany natural operation, or to show distinctly the action of that power\nwhich produces any single effect in the universe. The ultimate springs\nor principles productive of natural phenomena are totally shut up from\nhuman curiosity and inquiry.\u201d Then in the next section he goes on to\nargue against the legitimacy of the common postulate of all scientific\nthought, that \u201csimilar sensible qualities proceed from similar\nsecret powers.\u201d \u201cAll that experience can do is to show us a number\nof uniform effects resulting from certain objects, and to teach us\nthat those particular objects at that particular time were endowed\nwith such powers and forces.\u201d After this, in the chapter entitled\n\u201cSceptical Solution of Sceptical Doubts,\u201d he lays it down that\nsince our belief that similar effects imply similar causes does not\ndepend on reasoning, the only, \u201cprinciple on which it depends is\nCustom or Habit.\u201d In fact, \u201cAll inferences from experience are the\neffect of CUSTOM, not of REASONING.\u201d Cause means only \u201ccustomary\nconjunction.\u201d Then, towards the conclusion of the same chapter, he\nsays, \u201cThere is a kind of pre-established harmony between the course\nof nature and the succession of our ideas; and though the Powers and\nForces by which the former is governed be wholly unknown to us, yet\nour thoughts and conceptions have still, we find, gone on in the same\ntrain with the other works of nature. CUSTOM is that principle by\nwhich this correspondence has been effected.\u201d Cognate with these\nchapters on Causation are some discussions that follow on the idea of\npower or necessary connexion, in which he maintains that this idea is\nnot copied either from the observation of the operation of forces\n{312} in the external world or in the world of volition within us;\nthat in all cases what we know is only \u201cthe frequent CONJUNCTION of\nobjects, not their connexion;\u201d \u201call events seem entirely loose and\nseparate; and at bottom we have no idea of connexion or power at all,\nand these words are absolutely without any meaning;\u201d and,\nphilosophically expressed, \u201cthe sentiment or impression from which\nwe form the idea of power or necessary connexion,\u201d is only \u201cthe\ncustomary transition of the imagination from one object to its usual\nattendant.\u201d And so \u201cwe may define a CAUSE to be one object\nfollowed by another, and where all the objects similar to the first\nare followed by objects similar to the second.\u201d Lastly, to crown\nthis whole elaborate edifice of Scottish atheism, we have, in the\nchapter on \u201cProvidence and a Future State,\u201d the following\nsentences:--\u201cWhen we infer any particular cause from an effect, we\nmust proportion the one to the other, and can never be allowed to\nascribe to the cause any qualities but what are exactly sufficient to\nproduce the effect. Allowing, therefore, the gods to be the Authors of\nthe existence or order of the universe, it follows that they possess\nthat precise degree of power, intelligence, and benevolence which\nappears in their workmanship; but nothing further can be proved. The\nsupposition of further attributes is mere hypothesis.\u201d This argument\nis levelled against the perfection of the Divine workmanship and\nattributes. He then proceeds to annihilate, as he conceives, the\nSocratic argument from design in the following fashion:--\u201cIf you saw\na half-finished building, surrounded with heaps of brick and stone and\nmortar, and all the instruments of masonry, {313} you might justly\ninfer from this effect that it was a work of design and contrivance;\nand in reference to works of human art this reasoning is good, because\n_man is a being whom we know by experience_. But the case is not the\nsame with our reasonings from the works of Nature. The Deity is known\nto us only by his productions, and is a single Being in the universe\nnot comprehended under any species or genus, from whose experienced\nattributes or qualities we can by analogy infer any attribute or\nquality in him. The method of reasoning which we legitimately use in\nreference to the intentions and projects of men, can never have place\nwith regard to a Being so remote and incomprehensible, who bears much\nless analogy to any other being in the universe than the sun does to a\nwax taper, and who discovers himself only by some faint traces or\noutlines, beyond which we have no authority to ascribe to him any\nattribute or perfection.\u201d\n\nWe have been at pains to transcribe these articulate sentences\nverbatim, selected from a sweep of some hundred pages of the Essays,\nbecause they really contain all that can be said in justification or\npalliation of that sort of positive or negative atheism which has\nrecently been haunting the intellectual atmosphere of Europe, and\npoisoning the sources of social morality. Let us now see what they\namount to.\n\nIn the first place, then, with regard to the general source of all our\nknowledge of matters of fact, it is quite certain we gain such\nknowledge only from experience; but this of course does not mean\nmerely external experience of external objects. Whatever exists, the\nthinking I that is capable of taking cognisance {314} of objects, no\nless than the objects cognised, are known only by experience, could\nnot be known otherwise. A thing must exist in order that it may be\nknown to exist. Nothing is known by mere abstract reasoning\nindependent of existence. If it be said that mathematics are so known,\nthe answer is, that mathematics imply the existence of a thinker, and\nthe existence of laws of thinking, and further, that the objects of\nmathematical science are thoughts, not existences, mere hypothetical\nconditions and arbitrary limitations of space and time. We are not\ntherefore entitled to start with a presumption that whatever is not\nknown by abstract reasoning falls under the category of mere accident\nor custom; in the wide range of what we know by experience some things\nmay be accidental or customary, many things may be necessary; what\nthings are absolutely necessary the Supreme Cause alone may know; but\nthat customary conjunction is not a sufficient explanation of the\norder of phenomena which we admire in the outer or inner world, human\nreason may be quite strong enough without hesitation to assert. For,\nlet us inquire how the idea of CAUSE arises. According to Mr. Hume\nit is nonsense; it is merely another word for custom; a constant\ncustom is a cause. Now, according to the general sense of mankind in\nall ages, and the use of all languages,--a consent and a use to which\nMr. Hume himself, as we have seen, in another place attaches the\nutmost importance,--while the inconstancy of a custom, by introducing\nthe idea of whim and caprice, excludes the notion of a cause, at least\nof a cause which falls under the category of science, a constant\ncustom is the very thing which naturally suggests the question, What\n{315} is the cause of this constancy? It is therefore something\ndifferent from the constancy; and whether discoverable or not, is not\nto be confounded with the existence of that thing, or series of\nthings, of which it is required as the explanation. Take an example.\nI see a certain person pass along the street before my window every\nmorning at a quarter before nine o\u2019clock, and another person\nfollowing him regularly at ten minutes before nine. Here is a\ncustomary conjunction. If it happened once, or even twice, I should\nask no questions, it might have been what men call accidental; but it\nhas happened every day for six months, and I ask the cause. Am I wrong\nin doing so? Is there no cause? Or do I give a sufficient answer when\nI say it is a customary conjunction, or an invariable sequence? The\ninvariability of the sequence, so far from offering any explanation of\nthe cause, is the very thing that suggests it. I insist on believing\nthat this invariability has a cause, and that it is neither an\naccident nor a custom. Of course it may be possible that I shall not\nbe able to find out the cause; but that there is a cause I believe as\nfirmly as that two and two are four. Now why am I entitled to demand a\ncause here, or in the case of any such conjunction? and what do I mean\nby it? I mean something that has an inherent and necessary virtue to\nproduce effect; and I am entitled to make the demand, just because I\nam a reasonable being, and because the exercise of reason has proved\nto me directly that invariable sequences are not produced except by\nthe persistent application of some calculated force of which\nenergizing reason is the source. I know by experience that whenever\nthis presidency of reason is abolished, the {316} world in which I\nmove instantly becomes a chaos; and the living unity of that mind\nwhich I exercise in thinking, and which brings its own unity into the\nwide sphere of my thoughts, feelings, and actions, displays to me in\nthe most direct way that the unity of plan between the different\nmembers of an invariable sequence can proceed only from that of which\nplan and unity can be predicated, viz., REASON. I derive my notion\nof cause therefore primarily from the most direct and certain of all\nsources, from my own existence; and if Mr. Hume objects that I do not\nknow how my mind acts on my body, or how my limb does not follow my\nwill in the case of palsy in the motor nerves, this ignorance does not\nin the least shake my conviction that a cause is something different\nfrom a custom; a piston or a paddle may be deranged, but the steamboat\nis moved by a cause nevertheless, and that cause is twofold,--the\nsteam, and the mind of James Watt. These conclusions with regard to\nthe works of man even Mr. Hume seems to regard as perfectly\njustifiable; for, like all puzzle-headed paradox-mongers, he is forced\nto forget his own distinctions, and to speak of a cause after all, as\nsomething different from a custom. We are justified, therefore, in\nfinding in the energizing reason of man a cause, and the only\nsufficient cause, for the reasonable works of man. But it is\ndifferent, you say, with the works of God. Different unquestionably in\nsome respects; as the ocean, for example, is different from a drop of\nsalt water, or the sun, as you say, from a wax taper, or a scuffle\nbetween two Irishmen at a fair from a great battle betwixt Prussia and\nFrance. Let it be so. There is an immense difference in magnitude\nbetwixt man and God, betwixt {317} the works of man and the works of\nGod. Still that will not make a gulf sufficiently large to prevent\nmutual recognition. A drop of salt water, the chemist will tell you,\ncontains every element that makes the mighty ocean a salt ocean, and\nnot a fresh-water lake. The smallest spark from the largest\nconflagration is an affair of the same oxygen gas; and petty\ndifferences in the management of the smallest borough in Great Britain\nare the result of the same play of vanities, jealousies, stupidities,\nand spites that provoke the greatest wars on the battle-field of\nEurope. We shall therefore not be deterred by the magnitude of the\nCreator\u2019s works from recognising the excellence of their cause; we\nshall rather feel the more occasion to sing with the royal Hebrew\npsalmist, \u201c_How excellent in all the earth, Lord, our Lord, is Thy\nname!_\u201d No doubt there is another difference that separates human\nwork from Divine. The work of God is vital work, ours is mechanical,\nmere puppetry, all the motive forces of which are borrowed from the\nexhaustless batteries of the Divine electricity. But this is only\nanother reason for wondering with so much the more admiration, and\nworshipping with so much the more fervour. How healthy-minded, how\nnoble, and how sublime, in reference to this matter, does that grand\nold Hebrew singer appear, with the flaming wings of his devout Muse,\ncompared with this peeping Scotch metaphysician, keeping himself\njealously free from the contagion of all intellectual enthusiasm, and\ndiscovering in this glorious universe only \u201csome faint traces and\noutlines\u201d of a self-existent Reason, enough to lead a man into\npuzzles but not to lift him into hymns! Truly a sorry spectacle! They\nwill not {318} worship God, forsooth, these philosophers, because they\ndo not know Him exactly as they know the machinery of their watches,\nbecause they do not see Him with their carnal eyes, because they\ncannot lay their fingers on Him. Well, let me ask them, Does any man\nsee any man? Can any man put his finger upon me, or you, upon that\nwhich is properly called me and you? No; he sees only the man as\nrevealed in his flesh, as manifested in his works. His soul looks\nthrough the windows of his eye; and his eye directs his hand where to\nstrike. We believe in the man; we do not see him. If his works are\nfull of order and beauty and purpose, we conclude that the man is\nreasonable; if they are mere disorder, ugliness, and haphazard, we\nconclude he is unreasonable. Not otherwise with our knowledge of God.\n\u201cNo man hath seen God at any time, nor can see.\u201d Creation is the\nface of God; the sun is the eye of God. Everywhere I see Him in his\nworks radiant with reason, instinct with soul. I know Him as a child\nknows his father, as the shepherd\u2019s dog knows the shepherd, as a\ncommon soldier knows the great projector of the campaign, though he\nmay never have seen him. I may not comprehend many of His movements\n(it would be a strange thing if I did), I may not understand much of\nthat which most nearly concerns myself; but this necessary inadequacy\nof my finite faculty shall not prevent my acknowledgment, my loyalty,\nand my obedience. I know enough of God always to inspire wonder and to\nannihilate criticism; and this is my highest human wisdom.\n\nSo much for the poor sceptical bewilderment of the celebrated David\nHume; into which den of dust {319} and cobwebs I certainly should not\nhave strayed in this discourse, had experience not taught me that to\ndeny God in the macrocosm necessarily leads to the denial of Mind in\nthe microcosm, and to deny mind in man is to disown morality, or at\nleast to stanch it in its principal well-head, and to poison the\npurest of its fountains. In forming a judgment of his character,\nhowever, we must not insist upon applying to him all the logical\nconsequences of his own arguments. That his philosophy is speculative\natheism is quite certain. By \u201cemptying the idea of causation of its\nefficiency,\u201d to use Professor Ferrier\u2019s language,[319.1] \u201cthat\nis, of the element which constitutes its essence, he not only denied\nGod, but he struck a blow which paralysed man\u2019s nature in its most\nvital function;\u201d he was not however consistently and thoroughly an\natheist; as a Scot he had too much sense to remain in his practical\nmoments entangled in the unsubstantial tissue of sophistry and cobwebs\nwhich he had spun for himself in speculation, and his want of piety\nwas a defect of sentiment rather than a revolt of reason.[319.2] We\nmust remember also charitably, that he lived in a flat age, when it\nwas always impossible for a man to be truly great. A little moral\nearnestness, of which the eighteenth century had nothing to give him,\nwould have saved him from a great part of the barren subtlety which\ndisfigures so many pages of his otherwise sagacious, pleasant, and\nprofitable works. When we observe that as the prophet of that age he\nwas in everything acute rather than strong, that in his literary\ntastes {320} he preferred Sophocles to Shakespeare, Epicurus to Plato,\nLucian to the Apostle Paul, and Leo X. to Martin Luther, we shall not\nbe surprised to find his moral treatise tainted with the notion that\nChristian virtue always means asceticism, and that religion is only a\nmore respectable name for superstition. Pity only that in the present\nage some persons should be forward to use his arguments who have not\nthe excuse of his position.\n\nWe have now finished our notice of those who are entitled to be called\nthe founders of the Utilitarian school; those who follow, as the mere\ninheritors of principles already largely discussed, need not detain us\nlong. Of these by far the most distinguished unquestionably is\nBentham; so distinguished indeed, as in popular estimate to be\naccounted, the founder of the school. But there is need of a\ndistinction here. Those men found a school in the proper sense who\nteach the principles which it acknowledges; but in another sense he\nfounds it who applies those principles to practice. In the first\nsense, the founders of the ethical doctrine which we are considering\nwere Locke, Hartley, and Hume; in the other sense, Bentham. His glory\nlies not so much in expounding as in applying principles; he is a\nlawyer and a politician rather than a philosopher. Not however that he\ndid not give himself the airs of a philosopher; this he did with\nobservation, and was accepted by his disciples accordingly. Therein\nlay the mistake. It is not every man, not even every great man, who\nknows how to recognise the limits which nature has laid down to the\nexercise of his faculty. Napoleon the Great, in the pride of imperial\ncommand, overlooked the moral forces that {321} lay slumbering in the\nheart of the people, and was punished by a three days\u2019 cannonade at\nLeipzig, the prelude to his final chastisement at Waterloo. Jeremy\nBentham, because he could tabulate Acts of Parliament with the\nastuteness of a barrister, the purity of a philanthropist, and the\ncomprehensiveness of a statesman, conceited himself throned on a moral\neminence from which he might look down with contempt on Plato and\nSocrates, and all the great moral teachers of the past. In the third\nchapter of the first volume of _Deontology_, or _Doctrine of Duty_, we\nread, \u201cWhile Xenophon was writing history, and Euclid giving\ninstruction in geometry, Socrates and Plato were talking nonsense\nunder pretence of teaching wisdom. This morality of theirs consisted\nin words,--this wisdom of theirs was the denial of matters known to\nevery man\u2019s experience, and the assertion of other matters opposed\nto every man\u2019s experience. And exactly in the proportion in which\ntheir notions on this subject differed from those of the mass of\nmankind, exactly in that proportion were they below the level of\nmankind.\u201d Such an exhibition of ignorance, insolence, and\nimpertinence as this in a man of undoubted genius, were truly\ninexplicable, did we not bear in mind that genius even of the very\nhighest kind is often accompanied by a very decided one-sidedness; and\nmore than that, there were in the circumstances of Bentham\u2019s life\nnot a few things that tended to raise to a maximum the dogmatism with\nwhich he was naturally endowed. He is by no means a solitary example\nof a great man, the sublime of whose excellence has been turned into\nthe ridiculous for lack of a little Christian humility. {322} \u201cWho\nis that young man who discourses on all subjects with such a wealth of\nresources?\u201d said a distinguished guest at Worcester to Bishop\nStillingfleet one day after dinner. \u201cThat is my chaplain, sir,\u201d\nreplied the Bishop; \u201cBentley is his name--Richard Bentley--a very\nremarkable man, a man of gigantic learning, and who might be the\ngreatest man in Europe, had he only a little modesty.\u201d Young Bentham\nhad the misfortune to be a spoiled child--and not without cause, for\nhe was by no means a common boy; his intellectual and moral endowments\nwere both rare; this was the good gift of God; but he was brought up\nas a prodigy; this was the great blunder of his parents. Nor was the\nblunder mended when at a remarkably early age he was sent to Oxford.\nPublic schools and colleges are often admirable institutions for\nteaching young men to find their level, but it was not so with\nBentham; he had the misfortune to be born in a flat century, and fell\namong flat people. Everything that he saw in the great seat of English\nlearning tended rather to pamper than to prune his conceit. He could\nwrite Latin verses as well as the best of them; but he rightly judged\nthat at this time of day, in reference to the highest demands of a\nrational culture, this sort of exercise is at best a very pretty kind\nof trifling, and anything better did not grow there at that time. He\nseems to have got a taste of Aristotle\u2019s Logic--that was part of the\nacademical routine,--but he had logic enough in his own brain, and\ncould not be expected to reap much benefit from any barren\nexercitations of a school-book. Logic is useful only as a flail, when\nit gets corn to thresh from other quarters; of itself it is utterly\n{323} unfruitful. Into the real gist and marrow of Aristotle and Plato\nit does not appear he ever entered, nor amongst the tutors of his\ncollege did any one offer a manuduction into these intellectual\npenetralia; it was the age of elegant grammarians and low churchmen;\nand when the Articles were duly subscribed and the Latin verses\nproperly turned off, there seemed nothing more in prospect for the\nacademical mind but port wine and chapel service, and, in pleasant\nsummer weather, a little languid activity on the bowling-green. But\nthis was not the sort of nutriment which could feed the fine spirit of\na young Bentham, whose food was mere intellectual truth, and his drink\npure human love. He had been born in a Tory family; he was bred in a\nTory college; he had been kidnapped (to his life-long horror) to sign\nthe Articles of a Tory Church; but from all this Toryism the best part\nof his nature had received no nourishment. The consciousness grew, and\none day burst out with a flash upon him, that Toryism was selfishness:\nthat the British people, in common with himself, were lying languid\nand downtrodden, and rotting beneath the selfish dominance of an\noligarchy, an oligarchy perhaps the most powerful that the history of\nthe world knew; for as he knew it, it certainly seemed fourfold,--an\noligarchy of pedants, an oligarchy of priests, an oligarchy of\nlawyers, and an oligarchy of peers. Against all this the spirit of\nyoung Bentham, as courageous as it was pure, rebelled. He would pull\nit all down; though he stood alone in the world, like Plato\u2019s just\nman, he would pull it all down. And so he set himself valiantly to\nprotest against the oligarchy of pedants, founded on a blind reverence\n{324} for the letter of dead books; against the oligarchy of priests,\nfounded on the real desire of power and the pretended admiration of an\nascetic morality; against the oligarchy of lawyers, who strangled the\nrights of the present by the fictions of the past; against the\noligarchy of peers, which in the government of the State preferred the\ninterests of the favoured few to the happiness of the neglected many.\nAnd the issue was that young Bentham returned from Oxford, not to\nprosecute his legal studies at one of the Inns of Court, and advance\nhimself to a position of wealth and honour by practising the curious\nart of giving a reasonable face to the most unreasonable of fictions,\nbut as an armed apostle of intellectual, moral, juridical, and\npolitical democracy, and full of that sort of sacred fury which\ninspired the French democrats when they looked forward to a speedy\nmillennium as the time \u201cwhen the last king should be strangled with\nthe bowels of the last priest.\u201d\n\nThe state of feeling here sketched is the only thing that, in my\nopinion, can afford a satisfactory explanation of the extraordinary\none-sidedness and dogmatism of Bentham\u2019s moral philosophy. It was\nthe creature of a reaction; and such a reaction as is apt to exhibit\nitself most emphatically in the case of the most highly-gifted young\nmen, who however sometimes, as increasing years bring extension of\nview, contrive to work their way to some Aristotelian mean point which\npermits the recognition of two opposite truths. But such was not the\nnature of Bentham. He worshipped the great goddess Consistency, and\ncould see and work only in a straight line. To his dicta there was no\nlimitation, any more than to those {325} of the Pope; he held himself\npractically infallible. So the first thing that he determined to do\nwas to re-establish the Epicurean doctrine that \u201cPleasure is the\nchief good;\u201d for \u201cEpicurus,\u201d he expressly says, \u201cwas the only\none among the ancients who had the merit of having known the true\nsource of morality.\u201d[325.1] After this we need inquire no further.\nThe novelty of this sentence is too dear a price to pay for its\nmanifest error in elevating a species into the dignity of a genus, and\nfor its manifest danger in stamping that which is highest in human\nnature with a label familiarly used to mark what is lowest. The great\nancients whom Bentham despised made \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1 or happiness\nthe genus; and this happiness, they said, one class of men sought to\nattain by \u1f21\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u1f74 or PLEASURE, another class by striving after\nthe \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u1f78\u03bd or the GOOD. This language, founded on the\nhealthy instincts of human nature, the apostles of Christianity\nsanctioned with their authority when they talked of persons being\n\u201clovers of pleasure more than lovers of God;\u201d and to the present\nhour \u201ca man of pleasure\u201d is a phrase familiarly used in the\nEnglish language to express one of the most trifling, contemptible,\nand useless members of society. And the reason of this use of language\nis obvious. Pleasure and Good, so far from being of a kindred nature,\nare generally directly opposite; no doubt they both produce enjoyment,\nbut the enjoyment in the one case is often passive, in the other\nalways active; in the one case generally shunning difficulty, in the\nother rather provoking it; of the former the senses are the main\norgan, of the latter the reason; the sensuous enjoyment man has in\ncommon with a {326} pig, the rational only as a man. It was therefore\na strange service that Bentham assumed himself to have done to moral\nphilosophy by confounding the poles of moral distinction; and his\nconduct can only be palliated, not justified, by the tendency of every\nreaction to swing itself into an extreme. Any peculiar provocation in\nBentham\u2019s time calling upon him to reinstate the gospel of the flesh\nin the rights of which it had been deprived by St. Paul, one does not\nexactly see. Whatever faults he might have discovered in the morality\nof the clerical exclusives, purple doctors, and minute grammarians of\nOxford, asceticism certainly was not one; feastings rather than\nfastings were the order of the day among the Dons; there remains,\ntherefore, only the puerile delight of using a strong phrase, to\npalliate this gross confusion of the received terminology of moral\nscience which he introduced. As for any other principles of morality\nthat Bentham might have, they were merely what every other body had\nalways professed. It did not require Hume, or any other sceptical\nsolver of sceptical doubts, to teach mankind that Benevolence was\nnaturally a good thing, and that no virtues were true virtues which\ndid not tend to the public good. It happened therefore to Bentham, as\nit had happened to other promulgators of new gospels,--that what was\nmost new in his system was least true, and what was most true was\nleast new. The doctrine that Pleasure is the chief good, and that\nEpicurus was a better philosopher than Aristotle, will scarcely now,\nwe apprehend, be seriously maintained; while, on the other hand, the\nmaxim, \u201cthe greatest happiness of the greatest number,\u201d has always\nbeen the war-cry by which the most generous politicians have {327}\nbeen roused, and the load-star by which the most far-seeing statesmen\nhave been guided. It is not, indeed, in the kingdom of ethics,\nstrictly so called, that Bentham\u2019s merit is to be sought; specially\nrather in the outlying fields of jurisprudential and legislative\neconomy, where that doctrine of consequences justly sways, which Paley\nerroneously sought to make regulative in the region of personal\npurpose, pure motive, and noble deed; and for his services in applying\nhis favourite maxim to various departments of political, juridical,\nand social reform, the world can scarcely be sufficiently grateful It\nis not often that so pure a philanthropist enters with victorious axe\nand mattock into domains bristling so rankly with all sorts of\nprofessional prejudice and professional selfishness. In this domain\nlet him be loved as a man, reverenced as a patriarch, and even\nworshipped as a saint--(he was a saint in his own peculiar way\nunquestionably); but let him not be lifted into Christian pulpits or\nacademic chairs to indoctrinate the ingenuous youth of this country in\na curious moral arithmetic how to maximize pleasure and to minimize\npain. Not by such teaching, certainly, were heroes wont to be made in\nSparta, in Athens, or in Rome.\n\nWith Bentham the edifice of Utilitarianism is complete, and there is\nlittle more to say about the matter. Those who came afterwards were\nexpositors, not founders; they employed themselves in explaining the\ndoctrines of their master, sometimes also in explaining them away;\nfor, while bound to maintain the honour of the sect, they were\nsometimes dimly conscious and more than half ashamed of the base\nelement out of which it sprang. One {328} of their foremost spokesmen\nwas JAMES MILL, the father of the present distinguished logician and\npolitician, John Stuart Mill. This gentleman, who is much respected by\nthe school to which he belongs, in the year 1829 published a work\nentitled _An Analysis of the Human Mind_. This treatise I have read\ncarefully, and am constrained to say that it appears to me an\nextremely meagre production; somewhat as if the mind of the author had\nbeen blasted and frosted by the arid and sharp east wind in the face\nof which--near Montrose--he was born. From his life it would appear\nthat he studied at the University of Edinburgh in the days of the\ngreat metaphysical school there, and that he devoted considerable\nattention to Plato. I have not the slightest reason to believe that\nthe great idealist was much known even to the best thinkers in our\nScottish metropolis at that time; but if Mill did study Plato\nthoroughly, it must have been, as Grote has done in our time, for the\npurpose of not understanding him. Certainly in his book I have found\nnothing but the materialistic side of Locke and Hartley worked out\ninto a monstrosity; a cold thin horror of all spiritual mystery, and\nthe shallow conceit that the primary divine force, which we call\nMIND, can be explained by a laboriously minute dissection of a\nmerely physical machinery. Whatever that great juggler Association can\nbe made to do in order to explain knowledge out of sensation, mind out\nof matter, and unity generally out of multiplicity, has been done in\nthis book. For the special ethics of Utilitarianism there is nothing\nin James Mill that the student of Hume and Bentham will be likely to\nthink worth remembering.\n\n{329}\n\nAmong living thinkers there is none who stands before the public more\nprominently as the exponent of the Utilitarian ethics than JOHN\nSTUART MILL.[329.1] But whatever may be the merits of this\ndistinguished writer in the domain of logic, politics, and economics,\nwhich seem most cognate to his genius, there can be little doubt in\nthe minds of thoughtful persons that his book on Utilitarianism has\ndone more to undermine than to sustain the doctrine which it professes\nto expound. And the reason of this lies in a cause which is not less\ncondemnatory of the doctrine than it is complimentary to its champion.\nMr. Mill is too good a man to be the consistent advocate of a system\nwhich, as compared with other systems, is fundamentally bad. He is too\nearnest an apostle of the real moral progress of man to be a\nthoroughgoing disciple of a school whose natural element is Epicurean\nease, sensual indulgence, and prudential calculation. His heart\nrevolted against the degrading tendency of a philosophy which gave a\nprimary importance only to what is low, and left the highest elements\nof human nature to make a respectable show before men with a borrowed\nand secondary vitality. But at the same time, he was a disciple of the\nschool, and the son of his father, and thus by education and a sort of\nintellectual heritage, his head was committed to a doctrine for which\nhis heart was naturally a great deal too good. The consequence was a\nsort of sophistry which, while we see through it, we cannot but\nadmire. Departing from the original idea of his school, that pleasure\nis the only good, and that pleasures differ from one another only in\nintensity, he interpolates into {330} the general idea of quantity of\nhappiness the discriminating element of quality; and thus is thrown\nback virtually on those innate ideas which it is the characteristic\nboast of his school to have discarded. For the essential difference in\nthe quality of high and low pleasures is not a matter to be proved by\nany external induction, but springs directly out of the intellectual\nand emotional nature of man, asserting its own innate superiority\nprecisely as light asserts itself over darkness, and order over\nconfusion. And thus, while he defends Utilitarianism successfully, so\nfar as results go, he succeeds only by throwing overboard all that is\nmost distinctive in the doctrine, and adopting secretly all that is\nmost peculiar to the teaching of his opponents. In ancient times,\nbetween Epicureanism and Stoicism there was a distinct and well-marked\nline of demarcation, which, whether in speculation or in practice, no\nperson could miss; now under Mr. Mill\u2019s manipulation, this\ndistinction vanishes; the love of pleasure with which he started is\nsublimated into the love of virtue, and an ideal enthusiasm for the\ngreatest possible happiness of all sentient creatures is substituted\nfor the real and direct stimulus of pleasure which every man\nunderstands; and a Joseph Mazzini consecrating his whole life with the\nmost intense enthusiasm and the most severe self-denial to the ideal\nof a possible Italian republic, is as much an Epicurean as David Hume\nsneering at all enthusiasm, and pleasing his soul with the delicate\nflatteries of fair dames in a Parisian saloon. This is to confound all\nthings, and to reduce the whole affair to a fence of words rather than\nto a battle of principle. Nor need we be surprised at such a result;\nfor the whole platform of morality in {331} modern times has been so\nelevated through the influence of Christianity that Epicureanism to\nwin a hearing is constrained to profess a standard which shall not\nfall beneath that laid down in the Sermon on the Mount or in the 13th\nchapter of 1st Corinthians; and to do this with nothing but the\nindividual selfish love of pleasure to start with, requires, it may be\nimagined, a very considerable amount of dialectic jugglery and\nshifting glamoury of words. One is forced to explain--keeping\nBentham\u2019s language--how the original, individual, and personal love\nof pleasure, which is and must be selfishness, manages from mere\nexternal considerations, for such only are left open by the deniers of\ninnate ideas, to take the shape of benevolence. Like theologians who\nare bound to stick to an unreasonable creed, and yet, to save its\ncredit, must make it appear reasonable, the Utilitarians, in striving\nto accommodate the principles of the lowest theory of morals to the\ndemands of the highest, have not escaped the awkwardness of the\nstrategist who, while making a real retreat, plays off some movements\nthat look like an advance. Only in this case the strategist knows that\nhe is deceiving his soldiers, and deceiving the enemy; whereas the\nlogician who dexterously assumes a new position while seeming to\nmaintain his old one is the happy victim of his own fallacies. He has\nchanged front by a man\u0153uvre which many persons may be too stupid to\nobserve, and he has saved himself from the disagreeableness of a\nformal recantation. Such dexterous shifts are the convenient refuge of\nall one-sided theorists who insist on taking nature to school, and\ntrimming human souls, like trees in a fruit-garden, after their {332}\nown favourite pattern. Meanwhile nature goes on heaving up her strong\nmoralities from original pure fountains, regardless alike of the\nintense one-eyed dogmatism of the founders of ethical schools, and the\ningenious apologies of their disciples, and makes preachers, as she\nmakes poets, by inspiration, not by induction.\n\nAfter J. S. Mill, the only other living champion of the Utilitarian\nschool who demands special notice here is Professor BAIN. This\nsubtle, various, and accomplished writer, while agreeing with Hume and\nMill in reverting to the old Socratic principle of original benevolent\ninstincts in man, and thus denying pure externalism in one important\npart of the human soul, is nevertheless upon the whole a much more\nthorough-going and consistent externalist than Mr. Mill; so thorough,\nindeed, as not to have hesitated to assert, in the most unqualified\nlanguage, that conscience in the breast is a mere reflection of the\nexternal model in the statute-book, instead of the statute-book being,\nas the Idealists teach, a very fragmentary and inadequate projection\nfrom the moral pattern in a normal conscience. This revival of Hobbism\nin one of its extreme forms is not likely to meet with much acceptance\nin a country where the popular conscience, from long centuries of\ncombined Christian and chivalrous culture, has attained a very high\ndegree of refined sensibility; and the numerous admirers of Mr. Mill,\nwho are grateful to that gentleman for the skill with which he has\ndisposed the ethics of Empiricism in the drapery of Idealism, will\nscarcely be thankful to Mr. Bain for presenting their pet system in\nthe naked prose of its early cradle. The acute northern professor\nwould certainly have {333} been more consistent, though less amiable,\nif he had asserted in its broadest form the Hobbesian doctrine of an\noriginal war of all against all; and he would have found no greater\ndifficulty in evolving from the primeval tiger a Xavier or a Howard,\nthan others have found in elevating the primeval monkey into a Newton\nor La Place.\n\nWe have now concluded our proposed survey of the Utilitarian philosophy,\nand the result may be summarily stated thus:--Utilitarianism generally\nis a method of thinking which, while professing to clear up dim ideas,\nbrings confusion and disorder into every region of human thought and\naction; and specially--\n\n1. Which, by deriving thought from mere sensation, by deducing the one\nfrom the many, instead of the many from the one, and thus reducing\nmind to a mere blank impressibility, confounds the essential\ndistinction between necessary and contingent truth, and renders all\nscience impossible.\n\n2. Which, by confounding causation with sequence, pulls up philosophy\nby the roots, disembowels theology of all substance, and freezes the\nbreath of all natural piety.\n\n3. Which, in the realm of the fine arts, for the harmonies and\ncongruities of eternal reason, substitutes the arbitrary associations\nof ephemeral fashion, local habit, and individual conceit.\n\n4. And which, in the all-important science of human life, degrades\nmorality from a manifestation of true expression, pure emotion, and\nlofty purpose, into a low consideration and a slippery calculation of\nexternal consequences.\n\nThis may seem perhaps a sufficiently condemnatory sentence; but it\ndoes not by any means follow {334} that Utilitarianism has proved\nutterly useless in the world, or that its power for good is exhausted.\nIt is only as a philosophy of human thought, feeling, and action that\nit is weighed in the balance and found wanting; as an aspect of social\nmorals, and in the hands of good men like Bentham and Mill, as an\namiable half of moral truth giving itself out for the whole, it has\ndone good service in its day, and may be expected to do more. No man\ncertainly can quarrel with the zealous endeavour to promote the\ngreatest happiness of the greatest number, provided it be made clear,\nin the first place, wherein human happiness and the true dignity of\nhuman nature consists. And though thinking men abroad, who take a\ncosmopolitan review of our insular sects and parties, will continue to\nlook upon Paleyism and Benthamism as only the natural rank product of\nthe unweeded garden of Locke\u2019s empiricism, practical men in this\ncountry, who are more politicians than philosophers, and more anxious\nto reform their institutions than to remodel their thinking, will\ncontinue to find in the Utilitarian principle a useful war-cry against\ntraditional abuses, and a motto of which no lover of his kind requires\nto be ashamed. Scientific men also working correctly with Baconian\ntools on the forces of the external world, may be ready to ally\nthemselves with a system of ethical philosophy which professes to make\nno assumptions, to proceed by cautious induction, and to educe the\nrole of right not from dim feelings, flaming passions, and lofty\naspirations, but from statistical tables and other externalities that\ncan be felt and fingered. As a practical power, therefore, in this\ncountry, Utilitarianism cannot be considered as extinct; on the {335}\ncontrary, the recent upheaval of the democratic element which Whigs\nand Tories have conspired to produce, cannot but carry along with it,\nfor a season, the glorification of that maxim which so felicitously\nseems to foretell the doom of all aristocratic privilege and\noligarchic abuse. To deal with men in one gregarious mass, counting\nthem only by units without respect to quality, seems characteristic no\nless of Benthamite philosophy than of democratic policy; the element\nof NUMBER is made prominent in both; and both seem to aim at a sort\nof general level of social bliss which can be most easily attained by\ntaking the superfluities from the few and dividing them amongst the\nmany. The heretical and anti-theological tendencies of the age also,\nwill aid the Utilitarian movement; partly, no doubt, because\ntheologians have not always sufficiently considered that a clean\ncottage is sometimes as necessary for the well-being of a people as a\nclean conscience, and partly because those who find in the several\ncreeds of Christendom ground of moral offence, may not be unwilling to\nwelcome in the Utilitarianism of the present day an ethical system\nwhich jealously shuns the contagion of piety, and scarcely with a cold\nand distant reverence recognises God. But this manifest hostility to\nreligion which so characteristically separates the modern Utilitarian\nwriters from Locke and Hartley will in all probability be the first\nthing that shall cause a salutary reaction against them. For religion\nis as essential to human nature as poetry; and however violent men may\nattempt to stamp it out, or supercilious men to overlook it, or meagre\nmen to deny it, it will always know to assert its own place, and ever\nthe more powerfully from the void which {336} its absence has\noccasioned. With democracy, presenting as it does, from every point,\nthe most flattering appeals to individual self-importance, the masses\nof men readily become intoxicated; but from absolute irreligion,\nexcept in fits of social madness, they revolt, and stagger back from\nthe brink of the black abyss which it reveals. The difficulties of the\nChurch Articles may be removed by judicious pruning or happy\ninoculation; but in Atheism there dwells no healing; it is sheer\nemptiness and despair.\n\n [The End]\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES.\n\n[1.1] See the splendid eulogy of the philosopher in J. S. Mill\u2019s essay\n\u201cOn Liberty.\u201d\n\n[1.2] See the famous sentence in the Deontology (vol. i.), which a\nman to believe must have seen,--so gross is the amount of ignorance,\nconceit, and dogmatism that it parades without a mask.\n\n[26.1] The reader will not suppose that we have penned the above\nsentences about the position and character of the Sophists without\nhaving seriously weighed the evidence on the subject, and\nespecially without having taken into account the very able chapter\non Socrates and the Sophists in Grote\u2019s History of Greece. On\nthe contrary, we have read that chapter carefully over several\ntimes, and have on each occasion returned from the perusal with\nthe confirmed conviction that the learned author wrote it as a\nspecial pleader rather than as an impartial historian, and that the\nlight in which he presents this important subject is essentially\nfalse, and distorts, or rather inverts, the real position of the principal\nfigures in the picture. The main features in Grote\u2019s account\nof the matter are that the Sophists are a much calumniated class\nof men; that Socrates was the head of that class, rather than their\nantagonist; and that not the real facts of the case, but the imagination\nof the transcendental Plato, and the caricatures of Aristophanes,\ncarelessly accepted as true history, have been the sources of modern\nideas on the subject. In all this we think Mr. Grote is decidedly\nwrong, running counter at once to the inherent probabilities of the\ncase, and to the unhesitating and concurrent testimony of all\nantiquity. The hollowness of the case of Mr. Grote has been shown\nin detail by Mr. Cope in the Cambridge Philological Journal and by\nmyself in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh; so that\nwe may content ourselves here by simply stating what appears to be\nthe _rationale_ of the process by which the distinguished author of\nthe History of Greece was led into the maintenance of such an\nuntenable position. Now the influences which acted on the learned\nhistorian\u2019s mind in this matter seem reducible to three--(1.) Mr.\nGrote is characteristically a polemical historian; from beginning to\nend of his book he has in his eye, and is writing against, a class of\nwriters who had made it a business, in writing the history of Greece,\nto write against the Athenian democracy, and through that, against\ndemocracy in general. With such a literary mission, Mr. Grote, however\ntriumphant in the main, was constantly exposed to the strong\ntemptation of vindicating characters that had been previously abused,\nand abusing those whose respectability had hitherto stood\nunquestioned; (2.) In the course of his sweeping progress of knocking\ndown old ideals and setting up new ones, no figures were more likely\nto call his chivalrous faculty of vindication into play than the\nSophists; for they were, as we have seen, the natural guides of the\nlusty young democracy, and as such the special favourites of a\nhistorian whose business it was to justify and glorify the Athenians\nin all the characteristic phases of their social and political life.\nAnd to a certain extent no doubt the distinguished historian was right\nin maintaining that the antagonists of Socrates were not so black as\nthey had been painted by many, but represented a considerable element\nof civic worth and respectability. But he was certainly not justified\nin wiping out that antagonism altogether from the record,--an\nantagonism which was just as marked in Athens as that more famous one\nin Jerusalem four centuries later, between the Scribes and Pharisees\nand the first preachers of the Gospel. The manner in which Mr. Grote\nendeavours to confound Socrates with the herd of Sophists, from the\nmere external resemblance of the weapons which they used, is unworthy\nof a great historian. It was enough that such a confusion should have\nblinded the eyes of the Athenian vulgar, and their great jest-maker\nAristophanes, without being made at this time of day to serve as a\nserious vindication of the great mass of Sophistical teachers; but\n(3.) Mr. Grote was led to elevate the Sophists, and so, comparatively,\nto degrade their great antagonist, not only from his position as the\nchampion of Athenian democracy, but from his sympathy with the\nphilosophical principles of the Sophists, as opposed to those of\nSocrates and Plato. These principles are those of the Sensational as\nopposed to what is commonly called the Ideal or Intellectual\nphilosophy, the philosophy which gathers its conclusions exclusively\nfrom what is external, while looking with suspicion on any categorical\nintuitions, God-given instincts, or God-seeking aspirations that may\nassert themselves from within. With this temper Mr. Grote is naturally\nled to take the part of those ancient Greek teachers who held similar\nprinciples; and these are to be found not on the side of Socrates,\nPlato, and Aristotle, but on the side of Protagoras and the Sophists.\nHow strongly his speculative tendencies gravitate in this direction\nthe learned historian has amply shown in his book on Plato, a work in\nwhich the reader will more readily find an eager and acute advocacy of\nthe adversaries of Plato than an intelligent and loving estimate of\nthe great idealist himself. In expounding Plato Mr. Grote put himself\npretty much in the same position that Voltaire would have done had he\nundertaken to write a commentary on the Gospel of John. It is not\nenough, in order to see a thing, that a man have sharp eyes; he must\nhave a soul behind the eye, to teach him both what is to be seen, and\nwhat it signifies when it is seen.\n\n[32.1] See the singular dialogue with Theodote, afterwards mistress\nof Alcibiades, in the _Memorabilia_.\n\n[42.1] Professor Grote says--\u201cLaw is the public reason of a society,\nparticipated in more or less by the mass of individuals, enforcible\nupon all who will not participate in it.\u201d--_On Utilitarianism_.\n\n[43.1] The Communists, who declare war against Capital, can get\nover this only by saying that every society is entitled to demand\nof its members that they shall sacrifice any part of their natural\nrights for the good of the whole to which they belong, and further,\nthat man being essentially a social animal has no right to anything\nexcept as a member of society. The question will then be, whether\nit is good for society to be so exclusively society as to swallow up\nall individualism and what naturally belongs thereto.\n\n[49.1] \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03b1 happiness, literally, well-goddedness,--the state of\na creature to whom the gods are kind.\n\n[49.2] So Austin (_Province of Jurisprudence_, Lecture iv.) calls\n\u201cGood the aggregate of pleasures,\u201d a language borrowed from\nBentham, which Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle would with one\nconsent have repudiated.\n\n[66.1] _On the Philosophy of Ethics_. By S. S. Laurie: Edin. 1866.\n\n[70.1] \u201cAtheism is repugnant to moral and political economy, for it\nnecessarily destroys the idea of morality. If there is no law in\nthe material world, there can be no law in the spiritual and social\nworlds. Every motive for self-restraint is removed; for the idea\nof an object for which to strive is rejected.\u201d--Baring-Gould,\n_Development of Religious Belief_, vol. i. p. 283. An original and\npowerful work.\n\n[74.1] This seems the best way of translating the \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd in the\nmouth of Polytheists. It is a sort of vague step towards Monotheism.\n\n[75.1] As if it were the destiny of modern philosophers to pervert the\nwisdom of the ancients into ridiculous caricature, so we find in\nreference to this matter Helvetius in a well-known passage saying\nseriously that if horses had had hands they would have been men,\nand if men had had hoofs they would have been horses! In this\nway the ingenious fool always makes a knife out of every instrument\nto cut his own fingers.\n\n[75.2] See this point stated more formally in Hegel, _Encyclop\u00e4die_, 50.\n\n[81.1] Darwin, by the use of the term _selection_, turned _accident_ into\n_design_, and was the first to do so.--Stirling on Protoplasm\n(Edinburgh, 1869), p. 69.\n\n[85.1] Stirling on Protoplasm, p. 33.\n\n[86.1] The opposite and characteristically modern view of the origin\nand character of religious duties may be stated most shortly in a\nsentence from a distinguished modern thinker:--\n\n\u201cIf there be a God, then man bears relations to Him, _and his\nduties to God are of a private nature, and therefore not of interest\nto the State, and in no way coming under the jurisdiction of\nScience_. And what the duties are which man owes to God can\nonly be ascertained by a _Revelation_, for they cannot be discovered\nexperimentally.\u201d\n\nThere are two propositions here essentially anti-Socratic, and, in my\nopinion, essentially false:--(1.) That religion belongs to man only as\na private individual, and not as a citizen. This is a favourite idea\nof the most recent times, and has its only root in the fact that on\naccount of the growth of a certain stout and stubborn individualism in\nChristian Churches it has been found practically impossible to make\nChristian men combine socially for the performance of any religious\nfunction. This difficulty, however, belongs not to the nature of\nreligion, but to the imperfection of moral culture in our existing\nethical associations called Churches. The social recognition of the\nSupreme Father still remains as much an ideal in modern times as it\nwas a real in ancient times. The ancients sacrificed in this matter\nthe individual to the State; we, for the glorification of the\nindividual, allow the State to sit shorn of one of its greatest\nglories. Whatsoever a man is bound to do as a moral being\nindividually, he is bound to do socially, _if it be possible_. The\nso-called Voluntary system is a mere shift to save the trouble and\nshirk the difficulty which narrow-minded Christians feel in working\ntogether to give a national expression to common religious feelings\nand common religious convictions.\n\n(2.) The second proposition here is, that religious duties can\nonly be ascertained by Revelation, and come in no way under the\njurisdiction of SCIENCE. To this Socrates answers that religious\nduties are three, _reverence_, _gratitude_, and _obedience_, and that the\nfirst two of these have their root in the commonest instincts and\nmost rudimentary notions of reasonable beings, while the third,\ndepending, as it does, partly on general science, partly on special\nintellectual culture, falls directly under the jurisdiction of Science.\nFor to obey the laws of God we must know them, and we know\nthem, as we know other things, by observation and reflection; for\nthey are not hidden, as some men count hidden, but written everywhere,\nboth within us and without, in the most legible scripture,\nand pressed upon us daily by the most cogent arguments; and no\nman can escape from their obligation. If by duties to God Mr.\nGould understands only special religious observances as expressive\nof our religious sentiments and convictions, then no doubt it is\nquite true that these special forms of expression must either be\nrevealed directly from Heaven, or vary considerably, according to\nthe character and condition of the people who use them; but such\na narrowing of the idea of religious duty, confining it to the accidental\ninstead of the essential, depriving it in fact of its soul and\nvital principle, is most unphilosophical; and I am more willing to\nsuppose that such a thoughtful writer as Mr. Gould should have\nbeen led astray by a fashionable phase of modern thought, than\nthat he should be deliberately guilty of the impertinence of giving\nhis readers the shell of a thing as its definition, when they had a\nright to look for the kernel.\n\n[88.1] Since writing the above I have stumbled on an excellent passage\non the inherent germ of Monotheism in Polytheism, contained in\nBaring Gould\u2019s _Development of Religious Belief_, vol. i. p. 268, etc.\nTo the same purpose the reader may consult my notes on Homer\u2019s\nIliad, viii. 2.\n\n[89.1] Baring-Gould on the _Development of Religious Belief_\n(London, 1869), p. 124.\n\n[101.1] This was written twelve months before the startling events of\nthe late Franco-German war brought the deficiencies of our British\nmilitary system so prominently into public view.\n\n[117.1] This passage teaches us all that can profitably be said on the\nso-called \u03b4\u03b1\u03af\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd or familiar spirit of Socrates. It was plainly nothing\nbut an inward voice dissuading from certain courses of action,\nwhich, as it rested on no grounds of human argumentation, and\ndid not pretend to explain itself, fell to be classed with what we\ncall mysterious instincts and presentiments, and which, as a pious\nman, Socrates, and in my opinion wisely, attributed to the Source\nof all original vital power and spiritual energy, viz., GOD. If men\neat and drink, and sleep and perform other essential functions of\nvitality, by a law which the Creator keeps in His own hands, and\nover which human volition exercises no control, there is no reason\nwhy in the higher region of our moral and intellectual life, behind\nand beyond the domain of our purpose and volition, the great\nSource of all cosmic energy should not reserve for Himself a field\nof deeper influence, and by us necessarily inexplicable. Our understanding,\nwith all its pretensions, is a petty faculty, which asserts\nits power lightly in dissecting what is dead, but proves itself\nfeeble and powerless in all that concerns vital origination. Homer\nconstantly represents his heroes as receiving inspirations of strength,\nand wisdom from the Infinite Source of all strength and wisdom;\nand in accordance with this healthy human instinct Socrates taught\nthat on great and critical occasions he was often directed by a\nmysterious voice, or intimation from the \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd. The only\nthing about the matter which ought to require explanation is the\nmethod in which this divine power acted. Its method of action\nwas negative, never positive, and warning on each occasion from\nwhat was not to be done, never inciting to what should be done.\nThe reason of this, we think, is not far to seek. Socrates was both\npersonally, and in virtue of the people to whom he belonged, a\nreasoner; logic was his lamp through life, and by this clear light\nhe was habitually guided in all common cases. But there are dark\nand doubtful moments in the brightest lives, when even the wisest\nand the most conscientious can find no sure direction in the pros\nand cons that suffice for general guidance; in such cases one is\nthrown back on those radical and fundamental instincts of character\nwhich underlie all reasoning and all purpose; and the particular\nGod-given instinct which was strong in the nature of Socrates was\n_not_ to meddle with certain matters, from which it was doubtful\nwhether his character would come out unscathed. It was therefore\na mysterious instinct of caution that God had implanted in the\nbreast of the philosopher, an instinct of the utmost value to all men\nwho live in the world, but especially useful to one who, like\nSocrates, was always in danger of being drawn by his strong and\nwide sympathies into regions from which, in the interest of his\nhigher mission, it was better that he should retire.\n\n[130.1] Luther\u2019s Briefe, anno 1516.--De Wette, i. p. 16.\n\n[131.1] Life of Harris, by the Earl of Malmesbury.\n\n[131.2] Hume\u2019s life, i. p. 92.\n\n[152.1] \u1f15\u03be\u03b9\u03c2, \u1f26\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f14\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2, with which again St. Paul agrees, Heb. v. 14,\nwhere Aristotle\u2019s favourite word is used.\n\n[173.1] It is interesting here to observe how Aristotle, concurring with\nHomer (_Od._ xiii. 289), makes the distinction, unquestionably just,\nthrough the neglect of which Burke fell into his notable error that\nbeautiful things are always small. He ought to have known that\nthere is the same distinction between _beautiful_ and _pretty_ in English,\nas between \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 and \u1f00\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03c2 in Greek.\n\n[181.1] The scholar will observe that throughout this passage, and\nspecially in this last sentence, I have paraphrased the author a\nlittle, to bring out more clearly his meaning. His style is too curt\nand bald, not to suffer in some cases by strict literalness.\n\n[184.1] Grant\u2019s _Ethics of Aristotle_, vol. i. p. 147.\n\n[192.1] Lecky, _History of European Morals_, vol. i., Introductory\nDiscourse.\n\n[194.1] See the doctrine of Heraclitus in Ritter and Preller\u2019s admirable\ncompend--_Historia Philosophi\u00e6 Gr\u00e6co-Roman\u00e6_--one of the\nbest manuals of the many that we owe to the erudition and judgment\nof the great German people.\n\n[198.1] _Life of Martin Boos_, 1855, p. 25.\n\n[198.2] Life of Franklin in the _Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica_.\n\n[200.1] \u1f41 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f41 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bb\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03b1 \u03b6\u1ff6\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u1fbd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ac\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2\n\u1f38\u03b7\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f10\u03ba \u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03c1\u1ff6\u03bd.--1 Pet. i. 3.\n\n[202.1] Westcott, _The Gospel of the Resurrection_, London, 1867.\n\n[205.1] To persons ignorant of Greek, who may wish to receive a vivid\nimpression of the moral influence of Stoicism, I recommend Long\u2019s\n_Translation of Antoninus_, Lecky\u2019s _History of European Morals_,\nand Farrar\u2019s _Seekers after God_.\n\n[213.1]\n\u1f1c\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b4\u1f74 \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21 \u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b7, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21 \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b1 \u1f00\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u1f74, \u03ba\u03ac\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21 \u03c6\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f74\u00b7 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b1\u1f31 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u1f76\n\u1f40\u03c1\u03b8\u1ff6\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f30\u03bd\u03af\u03c4\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03bc\u1f74 \u03ba\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f10\u03bd \u1f85\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03c3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f10\u03bd\n\u03b2\u03bf\u03c1\u03b2\u03cc\u03c1\u03c9, \u1f45\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd \u03b2\u03bf\u03c1\u03b2\u03cc\u03c1\u1ff3 \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03ba\u03ac\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f36\u03b1 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u1f57\u03b5\u03c2, \u03bf\u1f50 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c3\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1, \u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u1ff3.--PLOTINUS, _Enn_.\ni. 6, p. 55; edit, Kirchhoff, i. 6.\n\n[214.1] Professor Ferrier on Consciousness; _Works_, vol. i. p. 221.\n\n[223.1] _Usque-beatha_--whisky.\n\n[229.1] Read Mr. Farrar\u2019s delightful little work, _Seekers after God_.\n\n[229.2] Burton\u2019s _Life of David Hume_, vol. ii. p. 195.\n\n[234.1] Lines on the death of Faraday.--_Punch_, September 7, 1867--a\nperiodical which though sometimes unjust is never vicious, and\nalways knows to appreciate real excellence.\n\n[235.1] \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03c4\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1,--1 Pet. ii. 9.\n\n[240.1] The Rev. J. W. Fletcher, Rector of Madeley, Shropshire.\n\n[245.1] _P\u00e6dag_. ii. 1-3.\n\n[255.1] It is to be observed, however, that the friends of agricultural\nimprovement in Strasburg used their interest to get the merits of\ntheir pastor known in Paris; and the consequence was that he was\nrewarded with a gold medal after having worked fifty-one years in\nthe unnoticed useful obscurity of his parish. Altogether his\ngolden pastorate lasted for the long space of fifty-nine years.\n\n[255.2] Westcott, _Gospel of the Resurrection_ (1867), p. 96.\n\n[261.1] Westcott, _Gospel of the Resurrection_, p. 98.\n\n[267.1] \u03bf\u1f50 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f04\u03bd \u03c0\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b5\u1f36\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd \u1f40\u03c6\u03b8\u03b1\u03bb\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2 \u1f25\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u1f21\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u1f74\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03b3\u03b5\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2,\n\u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f78\u03bd \u1f04\u03bd \u1f34\u03b4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u1f74 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7.--PLOTINUS, i. 9; Kirchhoff.\n\n[267.2] Locke, ii. 21, 68.\n\n[274.1] Austin.\n\n[274.2] Schwegler, _Geschichte der Philosophie_. Translated by Stirling.\n\n[277.1] _Logic_, chap iii.\n\n[278.1] Ferrier on Consciousness; Posthumous Works, vol. i. p. 255.\n\n[289.1] _Analysis_, ii. 137, 139.\n\n[293.1] _Emotions and Will_, xv. p. 290.\n\n[293.2] On Consciousness; _Works_, i. 195.\n\n[296.1]\n\u0392\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f76 \u1f02\u03bd \u03b5\u1f34\u03b7 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u03b2\u03af\u03bf\u03bd \u1f00\u03c6\u03cc\u03b2\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03c0\u03b5\u03bd \u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u1f74 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2.\n\u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f76 \u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03b8\u03b5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03b5\u1f36\u03c0\u03b5\u03bd \u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u1f74 \u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2.\n                                            STOB\u00c6US, _Sermon_, cvi.\n\n[298.1] Bentham said, \u201cI am a selfish man, as selfish as any man can\nbe; but in me somehow or other selfishness has taken the shape of\nbenevolence\u201d (_Works_, xi. 95). This is neither wit nor sense, but\nan affectation of humility of which one should have thought\nBentham would not have been guilty.\n\n[300.1] The value of Mr. Austin\u2019s work is more juridical than moral,\nand the ethical part of it is so entirely identical with Paley that for\nthe purposes of the present survey it did not seem to demand\nspecial notice.\n\n[304.1] On the Different Species of Philosophy.\n\n[305.1] From a letter written in 1734.--Burton\u2019s _Life of Hume_, i. p.\n35. In Sect. I. of the \u201cInquiry into the Principles of Morals,\u201d he\nsays, \u201cThe ancient philosophers, though they often affirm that\nvirtue is nothing but conformity to reason, yet in general seem to\nconsider morals as deriving their existence from taste and sentiment.\u201d\nThis is directly contrary to the fact.\n\n[307.1] Sceptical Solutions of Sceptical Doubts.\n\n[307.2] On the different Species of Philosophy.\n\n[307.3] On Self-love.\n\n[309.1] Hume\u2019s Essay _On some Verbal Disputes_.\n\n[310.1] \u201cThere is no enthusiasm amongst philosophers.\u201d--_On Providence\nand a Future State_.\n\n[319.1] Ferrier, Works by Grant and Lushington, vol. i. p. 116.\n\n[319.2] See the remarkable letter to Mure of Caldwell in Burton\u2019s\nHume, i. 162.\n\n[325.1] _Introduction to the Principles of Morals, etc._, chap. ii.\n\n[329.1] [J. S. Mill died on the 8th of May 1873.]\n\n[End of Footnotes]","title":"Four Phases of Morals: Socrates, Aristotle, Christianity, Utilitarianism","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":99971}