{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_77019/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_77019","id":"gutenberg_77019","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77019","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Sociology","Ethics","Philosophy and religion"],"text":"WALTER LIPPMANN\n\n\n A\n PREFACE\n TO\n MORALS\n\n\n THE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n NEW YORK MCMXXIX\n\n\n Copyright, 1929.\n By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.\n\n Set up and electrotyped.\n Published May, 1929.\n\n _First printing_\n\n _All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction\n in whole or in part in any form._\n\n\n _Printed in the United States of America by_\n J. J. LITTLE AND IVES COMPANY, NEW YORK\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS\n\n\n PART I\n\n THE DISSOLUTION OF THE ANCESTRAL ORDER\n\n CHAPTER PAGE\n\n I. The Problem of Unbelief 3\n 1. Whirl is King 3\n 2. False Prophecies 5\n 3. Sorties and Retreats 10\n 4. Deep Dissolution 14\n\n II. God in the Modern World 21\n 1. Imago Dei 21\n 2. An Indefinite God 23\n 3. God in More Senses Than One 25\n 4. The Protest of the Fundamentalists 30\n 5. In Man\u2019s Image 35\n\n III. The Loss of Certainty 37\n 1. Ways of Reading the Bible 37\n 2. Modernism: Immortality as an Example 40\n 3. What Modernism Leaves Out 48\n\n IV. The Acids of Modernity 51\n 1. The Kingly Pattern 51\n 2. Landmarks 56\n 3. Barren Ground 61\n 4. Sophisticated Violence 63\n 5. Rulers 65\n\n V. The Breakdown of Authority 68\n 1. God\u2019s Government 68\n 2. The Doctrine of the Keys 71\n 3. The Logic of Toleration 74\n 4. A Working Compromise 76\n 5. The Effect of Patriotism 78\n 6. The Dissolution of a Sovereignty 82\n\n VI. Lost Provinces 84\n 1. Business 84\n 2. The Family 88\n 3. Art 94\n a. The Disappearance of Religious Painting 94\n b. The Loss of a Heritage 96\n c. The Artist Formerly 98\n d. The Artist as a Prophet 101\n e. Art for Art\u2019s Sake 104\n f. The Burden of Originality 106\n\n VII. The Drama of Destiny 112\n 1. The Soul in the Modern World 112\n 2. The Great Scenario 115\n 3. Earmarks of Truth 118\n 4. On Reconciling Religion and Science 121\n 5. Gospels of Science 125\n 6. The Deeper Conflict 131\n 7. Theocracy and Humanism 133\n\n\n PART II\n\n THE FOUNDATIONS OF HUMANISM\n\n Introduction 143\n\n VIII. Golden Memories 145\n\n IX. The Insight of Humanism 152\n 1. The Two Approaches to Life 152\n 2. Freedom and Restraint 153\n 3. The Ascetic Principle 158\n 4. Oscillation between Two Principles 164\n 5. The Golden Mean and Its Difficulties 166\n 6. The Matrix of Humanism 171\n 7. The Career of the Soul 175\n 8. The Passage into Maturity 183\n 9. The Function of High Religion 191\n\n X. High Religion and the Modern World 194\n 1. Popular Religion and the Great Teachers 194\n 2. The Aristocratic Principle 197\n 3. The Peculiarity of the Modern Situation 200\n 4. The Stone Which the Builders Rejected 203\n\n\n PART III\n\n THE GENIUS OF MODERNITY\n\n XI. The Cure of Souls 213\n 1. The Problem of Evil 213\n 2. Superstition and Self-Consciousness 217\n 3. Virtue 221\n 4. From Clue to Practice 226\n\n XII. The Business of the Great Society 232\n 1. The Invention of Invention 232\n 2. The Creative Principle in Modernity 235\n 3. Naive Capitalism 241\n 4. The Credo of Old-Style Business 244\n 5. Old-Style Reform and Revolution 247\n 6. The Diffusion of the Acquisitive Instinct 252\n 7. Ideals 257\n\n XIII. Government in the Great Society 260\n 1. Loyalty 260\n 2. The Evolution of Loyalty 263\n 3. Pluralism 267\n 4. Live and Let Live 269\n 5. Government in the People 272\n 6. Politicians and Statesmen 279\n\n XIV. Love in the Great Society 284\n 1. The External Control of Sexual Conduct 284\n 2. Birth Control 288\n 3. The Logic of Birth Control 293\n 4. The Use of Convention 299\n 5. The New Hedonism 301\n 6. Marriage and Affinity 307\n 7. The Schooling of Desire 311\n\n XV. The Moralist in an Unbelieving World 314\n 1. The Declaration of Ideals 314\n 2. The Choice of a Way 320\n 3. The Religion of the Spirit 326\n\n Appendix: Acknowledgments and Notes 331\n\n Index 339\n\n\n\n\n PART I [p001]\n\n THE DISSOLUTION OF THE ANCESTRAL ORDER\n\n _\u201cWhirl is King, having driven out Zeus.\u201d_\n Aristophanes.\n\n\n\n\n A PREFACE TO MORALS [p003]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE PROBLEM OF UNBELIEF\n\n\n1. _Whirl is King_\n\nAmong those who no longer believe in the religion of their fathers,\nsome are proudly defiant, and many are indifferent. But there are also\na few, perhaps an increasing number, who feel that there is a vacancy\nin their lives. This inquiry deals with their problem. It is not\nintended to disturb the serenity of those who are unshaken in the faith\nthey hold, and it is not concerned with those who are still exhilarated\nby their escape from some stale orthodoxy. It is concerned with those\nwho are perplexed by the consequences of their own irreligion. It deals\nwith the problem of unbelief, not as believers are accustomed to deal\nwith it, in the spirit of men confidently calling the lost sheep back\ninto the fold, but as unbelievers themselves must, I think, face the\nproblem if they face it candidly and without presumption.\n\nWhen such men put their feelings into words they are likely to say\nthat, having lost their faith, they have lost the certainty that their\nlives are significant, and that it matters what they do with their\nlives. If they deal with young people they are likely to say that\nthey know of no compelling reason which certifies the moral code they\nadhere to, and that, therefore, their own preferences, when tested by\nthe ruthless curiosity of their children, seem to have no [p004] sure\nfoundation of any kind. They are likely to point to the world about\nthem, and to ask whether the modern man possesses any criterion by\nwhich he can measure the value of his own desires, whether there is any\nstandard he really believes in which permits him to put a term upon\nthat pursuit of money, of power, and of excitement which has created\nso much of the turmoil and the squalor and the explosiveness of modern\ncivilization.\n\nThese are, perhaps, merely the rationalizations of the modern man\u2019s\ndiscontent. At the heart of it there are likely to be moments of blank\nmisgiving in which he finds that the civilization of which he is a\npart leaves a dusty taste in his mouth. He may be very busy with many\nthings, but he discovers one day that he is no longer sure they are\nworth doing. He has been much preoccupied; but he is no longer sure he\nknows why. He has become involved in an elaborate routine of pleasures;\nand they do not seem to amuse him very much. He finds it hard to\nbelieve that doing any one thing is better than doing any other thing,\nor, in fact, that it is better than doing nothing at all. It occurs\nto him that it is a great deal of trouble to live, and that even in\nthe best of lives the thrills are few and far between. He begins more\nor less consciously to seek satisfactions, because he is no longer\nsatisfied, and all the while he realizes that the pursuit of happiness\nwas always a most unhappy quest. In the later stages of his woe he not\nonly loses his appetite, but becomes excessively miserable trying to\nrecover it. And then, surveying the flux of events and the giddiness\nof his own soul, he comes to feel that Aristophanes must have been\nthinking of him when he declared that \u201cWhirl is King, having driven out\nZeus.\u201d [p005]\n\n\n2. _False Prophecies_\n\nThe modern age has been rich both in prophecies that men would at\nlast inherit the kingdoms of this world, and in complaints at the\nkind of world they inherited. Thus Petrarch, who was an early victim\nof modernity, came to feel that he would \u201chave preferred to be born\nin any other period\u201d than his own; he tells us that he sought an\nescape by imagining that he lived in some other age. The Nineteenth\nCentury, which begat us, was forever blowing the trumpets of freedom\nand providing asylums in which its most sensitive children could\ntake refuge. Wordsworth fled from mankind to rejoice in nature.\nChateaubriand fled from man to rejoice in savages. Byron fled to an\nimaginary Greece, and William Morris to the Middle Ages. A few tried\nan imaginary India. A few an equally imaginary China. Many fled to\nBohemia, to Utopia, to the Golden West, and to the Latin Quarter, and\nsome, like James Thomson, to hell where they were\n\n gratified to gain\n That positive eternity of pain\n Instead of this insufferable inane.\n\nThey had all been disappointed by the failure of a great prophecy. The\ntheme of this prophecy had been that man is a beautiful soul who in the\ncourse of history had somehow become enslaved by\n\n Scepters, tiaras, swords, and chains, and tomes\n Of reasoned wrong, glozed on by ignorance,\n\nand they believed with Shelley that when \u201cthe loathsome mask has\nfallen,\u201d man, exempt from awe, worship, degree, the king over himself,\nwould then be \u201cfree from guilt or [p006] pain.\u201d This was the orthodox\nliberalism to which men turned when they had lost the religion of their\nfathers. But the promises of liberalism have not been fulfilled. We are\nliving in the midst of that vast dissolution of ancient habits which\nthe emancipators believed would restore our birthright of happiness. We\nknow now that they did not see very clearly beyond the evils against\nwhich they were rebelling. It is evident to us that their prophecies\nwere pleasant fantasies which concealed the greater difficulties that\nconfront men, when having won the freedom to do what they wish\u2014that\nwish, as Byron said:\n\n which ages have not yet subdued\n In man\u2014to have no master save his mood,\n\nthey are full of contrary moods and do not know what they wish to do.\nWe have come to see that Huxley was right when he said that \u201ca man\u2019s\nworst difficulties begin when he is able to do as he likes.\u201d\n\nThe evidences of these greater difficulties lie all about us: in the\nbrave and brilliant atheists who have defied the Methodist God, and\nhave become very nervous; in the women who have emancipated themselves\nfrom the tyranny of fathers, husbands, and homes, and with the\nintermittent but expensive help of a psychoanalyst, are now enduring\nliberty as interior decorators; in the young men and women who are\nworld-weary at twenty-two; in the multitudes who drug themselves with\npleasure; in the crowds enfranchised by the blood of heroes who cannot\nbe persuaded to take an interest in their destiny; in the millions, at\nlast free to think without fear of priest or policeman, who have made\nthe moving pictures and the popular newspapers what they are. [p007]\n\nThese are the prisoners who have been released. They ought to be very\nhappy. They ought to be serene and composed. They are free to make\ntheir own lives. There are no conventions, no tabus, no gods, priests,\nprinces, fathers, or revelations which they must accept. Yet the result\nis not so good as they thought it would be. The prison door is wide\nopen. They stagger out into trackless space under a blinding sun. They\nfind it nerve-wracking. \u201cMy sensibility,\u201d said Flaubert, \u201cis sharper\nthan a razor\u2019s edge; the creaking of a door, the face of a bourgeois,\nan absurd statement set my heart to throbbing and completely upset me.\u201d\nThey must find their own courage for battle and their own consolation\nin defeat. They complain, like Renan after he had broken with the\nChurch, that the enchanted circle which embraced the whole of life is\nbroken, and that they are left with a feeling of emptiness \u201clike that\nwhich follows an attack of fever or an unhappy love affair.\u201d Where is\nmy _home_? cried Nietzsche: \u201cFor it do I ask and seek, and have sought,\nbut have not found it. O eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O\neternal in vain.\u201d\n\nTo more placid temperaments the pangs of freedom are no doubt less\nacute. It is possible for multitudes in time of peace and security\nto exist agreeably\u2014somewhat incoherently, perhaps, but without\nconvulsions\u2014to dream a little and not unpleasantly, to have only now\nand then a nightmare, and only occasionally a rude awakening. It is\npossible to drift along not too discontentedly, somewhat nervously,\nsomewhat anxiously, somewhat confusedly, hoping for the best, and\nbelieving in nothing very much. It is possible to be a passable\ncitizen. But it is not possible to be wholly at peace. For serenity of\nsoul requires [p008] some better organization of life than a man can\nattain by pursuing his casual ambitions, satisfying his hungers, and\nfor the rest accepting destiny as an idiot\u2019s tale in which one dumb\nsensation succeeds another to no known end. And it is not possible\nfor him to be wholly alive. For that depends upon his sense of being\ncompletely engaged with the world, with all his passions and all the\nfaculties in rich harmonies with one other, and in deep rhythm with the\nnature of things.\n\nThese are the gifts of a vital religion which can bring the whole of\na man into adjustment with the whole of his relevant experience. Our\nforefathers had such a religion. They quarrelled a good deal about the\ndetails, but they had no doubt that there was an order in the universe\nwhich justified their lives because they were a part of it. The acids\nof modernity have dissolved that order for many of us, and there are\nsome in consequence who think that the needs which religion fulfilled\nhave also been dissolved. But however self-sufficient the eugenic\nand perfectly educated man of the distant future may be, our present\nexperience is that the needs remain. In failing to meet them, it is\nplain that we have succeeded only in substituting trivial illusions\nfor majestic faiths. For while the modern emancipated man may wonder\nhow anyone ever believed that in this universe of stars and atoms and\nmultitudinous life, there is a drama in progress of which the principal\nevent was enacted in Palestine nineteen hundred years ago, it is not\nreally a stranger fable than many which he so readily accepts. He does\nnot believe the words of the Gospel but he believes the best advertised\nnotion. The older fable may be incredible to-day, but when it [p009]\nwas credible it bound together the whole of experience upon a stately\nand dignified theme. The modern man has ceased to believe in it but he\nhas not ceased to be credulous, and the need to believe haunts him. It\nis no wonder that his impulse is to turn back from his freedom, and to\nfind someone who says he knows the truth and can tell him what to do,\nto find the shrine of some new god, of any cult however newfangled,\nwhere he can kneel and be comforted, put on manacles to keep his hands\nfrom trembling, ensconce himself in some citadel where it is safe and\nwarm.\n\nFor the modern man who has ceased to believe, without ceasing to be\ncredulous, hangs, as it were, between heaven and earth, and is at\nrest nowhere. There is no theory of the meaning and value of events\nwhich he is compelled to accept, but he is none the less compelled to\naccept the events. There is no moral authority to which he must turn\nnow, but there is coercion in opinions, fashions and fads. There is\nfor him no inevitable purpose in the universe, but there are elaborate\nnecessities, physical, political, economic. He does not feel himself\nto be an actor in a great and dramatic destiny, but he is subject to\nthe massive powers of our civilization, forced to adopt their pace,\nbound to their routine, entangled in their conflicts. He can believe\nwhat he chooses about this civilization. He cannot, however, escape\nthe compulsion of modern events. They compel his body and his senses\nas ruthlessly as ever did king or priest. They do not compel his mind.\nThey have all the force of natural events, but not their majesty, all\nthe tyrannical power of ancient institutions, but none of their moral\ncertainty. Events are there, and they overpower [p010] him. But they\ndo not convince him that they have that dignity which inheres in that\nwhich is necessary and in the nature of things.\n\nIn the old order the compulsions were often painful, but there was\nsense in the pain that was inflicted by the will of an all-knowing\nGod. In the new order the compulsions are painful and, as it were,\naccidental, unnecessary, wanton, and full of mockery. The modern man\ndoes not make his peace with them. For in effect he has replaced\nnatural piety with a grudging endurance of a series of unsanctified\ncompulsions. When he believed that the unfolding of events was a\nmanifestation of the will of God, he could say: Thy will be done.... In\nHis will is our peace. But when he believes that events are determined\nby the votes of a majority, the orders of his bosses, the opinions of\nhis neighbors, the laws of supply and demand, and the decisions of\nquite selfish men, he yields because he has to yield. He is conquered\nbut unconvinced.\n\n\n3. _Sorties and Retreats_\n\nIt might seem as if, in all this, men were merely going through once\nagain what they have often gone through before. This is not the\nfirst age in which the orthodox religion has been in conflict with\nthe science of the day. Plato was born into such an age. For two\ncenturies the philosophers of Greece had been critical of Homer and\nof the popular gods, and when Socrates faced his accusers, his answer\nto the accusation of heresy must certainly have sounded unresponsive.\n\u201cI do believe,\u201d he said, \u201cthat there are gods, and in a higher sense\nthan that in which [p011] my accusers believe in them.\u201d That is all\nvery well. But to believe in a \u201chigher sense\u201d is also to believe in a\ndifferent sense.\n\nThere is nothing new in the fact that men have ceased to believe in the\nreligion of their fathers. In the history of Catholic Christianity,\nthere has always existed a tradition, extending from the authors of the\nFourth Gospel through Origen to the neo-Platonists of modern times,\nwhich rejects the popular idea of God as a power acting upon events,\nand of immortality as everlasting life, and translates the popular\ntheology into a symbolic statement of a purely spiritual experience.\nIn every civilized age there have been educated and discerning men who\ncould not accept literally and simply the traditions of the ancient\nfaith. We are told that during the Periclean Age \u201camong educated men\neverything was in dispute: political sanctions, literary values, moral\nstandards, religious convictions, even the possibility of reaching any\ntruth about anything.\u201d When the educated classes of the Roman world\naccepted Christianity they had ceased to believe in the pagan gods,\nand were much too critical to accept the primitive Hebraic theories of\nthe creation, the redemption, and the Messianic Kingdom which were so\ncentral in the popular religion. They had to do what Socrates had done;\nthey had to take the popular theology in a \u201chigher\u201d and therefore in a\ndifferent sense before they could use it. Indeed, it is so unusual to\nfind an age of active-minded men in which the most highly educated are\ngenuinely orthodox in the popular sense, that the Thirteenth Century,\nthe age of Dante and St. Thomas Aquinas, when this phenomenon is\nreputed to have occurred, is regarded [p012] as a unique and wonderful\nperiod in the history of the world. It is not at all unlikely that\nthere never was such an age in the history of civilized men.\n\nAnd yet, the position of modern men who have broken with the religion\nof their fathers is in certain profound ways different from that of\nother men in other ages. This is the first age, I think, in the history\nof mankind when the circumstances of life have conspired with the\nintellectual habits of the time to render any fixed and authoritative\nbelief incredible to large masses of men. The dissolution of the\nold modes of thought has gone so far, and is so cumulative in its\neffect, that the modern man is not able to sink back after a period\nof prophesying into a new but stable orthodoxy. The irreligion of\nthe modern world is radical to a degree for which there is, I think,\nno counterpart. For always in the past it has been possible for new\nconventions to crystallize, and for men to find rest and surcease of\neffort in accepting them.\n\nWe often assume, therefore, that a period of dissolution will\nnecessarily be followed by one of conformity, that the heterodoxy of\none age will become the orthodoxy of the next, and that when this\northodoxy decays a new period of prophesying will begin. Thus we say\nthat by the time of Hosea and Isaiah the religion of the Jews had\nbecome a system of rules for transacting business with Jehovah. The\nProphets then revivified it by thundering against the conventional\nbelief that religion was mere burnt offering and sacrifice. A few\ncenturies passed and the religion based on the Law and the Prophets\nhad in its turn become a set of mechanical rites manipulated by the\nScribes and the Pharisees. As against this system Jesus and Paul\n[p013] preached a religion of grace, and against the \u201cletter\u201d of\nthe synagogues the \u201cspirit\u201d of Christ. But the inner light which can\nperceive the spirit is rare, and so shortly after the death of Paul,\nthe teaching gradually ceased to appeal to direct inspiration in the\nminds of the believers and became a body of dogma, a \u201csacred deposit\u201d\nof the faith \u201conce for all delivered to the saints.\u201d In the succeeding\nages there appeared again many prophets who thought they had within\nthem the revealing spirit. Though some of the prophets were burnt,\nmuch of the prophesying was absorbed into the canon. In Luther this\nsense of revelation appeared once more in a most confident form. He\nrejected the authority not only of the Pope and the clergy, but even of\nthe Bible itself, except where in his opinion the Bible confirmed his\nfaith. But in the establishment of a Lutheran Church the old difficulty\nreappeared: the inner light which had burned so fiercely in Luther\ndid not burn brightly or steadily in all Lutherans, and so the right\nof private judgment, even in Luther\u2019s restricted use of the term, led\nto all kinds of heresies and abominations. Very soon there came to be\nan authoritative teaching backed by the power of the police. And in\nCalvinism the revolt of the Reformation became stabilized to the last\ndegree. \u201cEverything,\u201d said Calvin, \u201cpertaining to the perfect rule of\na good life the Lord has so comprehended in His law that there remains\nnothing for man to add to that summary.\u201d\n\nMen fully as intelligent as the most emancipated among us once believed\nthat, and I have no doubt that the successors of Mr. Darrow and Mr.\nMencken would come to believe something very much like it if conditions\npermitted them to obey the instinct to retreat from the chaos [p014]\nof modernity into order and certainty. It is all very well to talk\nabout being the captain of your soul. It is hard, and only a few\nheroes, saints, and geniuses have been the captains of their souls for\nany extended period of their lives. Most men, after a little freedom,\nhave preferred authority with the consoling assurances and the economy\nof effort which it brings. \u201cIf, outside of Christ, you wish by your\nown thoughts to know your relation to God, you will break your neck.\nThunder strikes him who examines.\u201d Thus spoke Martin Luther, and there\nis every reason to suppose that the German people thought he was\ntalking the plainest commonsense. \u201cHe who is gifted with the heavenly\nknowledge of faith,\u201d said the Council of Trent, \u201cis free from an\ninquisitive curiosity.\u201d These words are rasping to our modern ears, but\nthere is no occasion to doubt that the men who uttered them had made\na shrewd appraisal of average human nature. The record of experience\nis one of sorties and retreats. The search for moral guidance which\nshall not depend upon external authority has invariably ended in the\nacknowledgment of some new authority.\n\n\n4. _Deep Dissolution_\n\nThis same tendency manifests itself in the midst of our modern\nuneasiness. We have had a profusion of new cults, of revivals, and of\nessays in reconstruction. But there is reason for thinking that a new\ncrystallization of an enduring and popular religion is unlikely in the\nmodern world. For analogy drawn from the experience of the past is\nmisleading.\n\nWhen Luther, for example, rebelled against the authority [p015] of\nthe Church, he did not suppose the way of life for the ordinary man\nwould be radically altered. Luther supposed that men would continue\nto behave much as they had learned to behave under the Catholic\ndiscipline. The individual for whom he claimed the right of private\njudgment was one whose prejudgments had been well fixed in a Catholic\nsociety. The authority of the Pope was to be destroyed and certain\nevils abolished, but there was to remain that feeling for objective\nmoral certainties which Catholicism had nurtured. When the Anabaptists\ncarried the practice of his theory beyond this point, Luther denounced\nthem violently. For what he believed in was Protestantism for good\nCatholics. The reformers of the Eighteenth Century made a similar\nassumption. They really believed in democracy for men who had an\naristocratic training. Jefferson, for example, had an instinctive fear\nof the urban rabble, that most democratic part of the population. The\nsociety of free men which he dreamed about was composed of those who\nhad the discipline, the standards of honor and the taste, without the\nprivileges or the corruptions, that are to be found in a society of\nwell-bred country gentlemen.\n\nThe more recent rebels frequently betray a somewhat similar inability\nto imagine the consequences of their own victories. For the smashing of\nidols is in itself such a preoccupation that it is almost impossible\nfor the iconoclast to look clearly into a future when there will not\nbe many idols left to smash. Yet that future is beginning to be our\npresent, and it might be said that men are conscious of what modernity\nmeans insofar as they realize that they are confronted not so much with\nthe [p016] necessity of promoting rebellion as of dealing with the\nconsequences of it. The Nineteenth Century, roughly speaking the time\nbetween Voltaire and Mencken, was an age of terrific indictments and\nof feeble solutions. The Marxian indictment of capitalism is a case\nin point. The Nietzschean transvaluation of values is another; it is\nmagnificent, but who can say, after he has shot his arrow of longing\nto the other shore, whether he will find Caesar Borgia, Henry Ford, or\nIsadora Duncan? Who knows, having read Mr. Mencken and Mr. Sinclair\nLewis, what kind of world will be left when all the boobs and yokels\nhave crawled back in their holes and have died of shame?\n\nThe rebel, while he is making his attack, is not likely to feel the\nneed to answer such questions. For he moves in an unreal environment,\none might almost say a parasitic environment. He goes forth to destroy\nCaesar, Mammon, George F. Babbitt, and Mrs. Grundy. As he wrestles\nwith these demons, he leans upon them. By inversion they offer him\nmuch the same kind of support which the conformer enjoys. They provide\nhim with an objective which enables him to know exactly what he thinks\nhe wants to do. His energies are focussed by his indignation. He does\nnot suffer from emptiness, doubt, and division of soul. These are the\nmaladies which come later when the struggle is over. While the rebel is\nin conflict with the established nuisances he has an aim in life which\nabsorbs all his passions. He has his own sense of righteousness and his\nown feeling of communion with a grand purpose. For in attacking idols\nthere is a kind of piety, in overthrowing tyrants a kind of loyalty,\nin ridiculing stupidities [p017] an imitation of wisdom. In the heat\nof battle the rebel is exalted by a whole-hearted tension which is\neasily mistaken for a taste of the freedom that is to come. He is\nunder the spell of an illusion. For what comes after the struggle is\nnot the exaltation of freedom but a letting down of the tension that\nbelongs solely to the struggle itself. The happiness of the rebel is as\ntransient as the iconoclasm which produced it. When he has slain the\ndragon and rescued the beautiful maiden, there is usually nothing left\nfor him to do but write his memoirs and dream of a time when the world\nwas young.\n\nWhat most distinguishes the generation who have approached maturity\nsince the debacle of idealism at the end of the War is not their\nrebellion against the religion and the moral code of their parents,\nbut their disillusionment with their own rebellion. It is common for\nyoung men and women to rebel, but that they should rebel sadly and\nwithout faith in their own rebellion, that they should distrust the\nnew freedom no less than the old certainties\u2014that is something of a\nnovelty. As Mr. Canby once said, at the age of seven they saw through\ntheir parents and characterized them in a phrase. At fourteen they saw\nthrough education and dodged it. At eighteen they saw through morality\nand stepped over it. At twenty they lost respect for their home towns,\nand at twenty-one they discovered that our social system is ridiculous.\nAt twenty-three the autobiography ends because the author has run\nthrough society to date and does not know what to do next. For, as Mr.\nCanby might have added, the idea of reforming that society makes no\nappeal to them. They have seen through all that. They cannot adopt any\nof [p018] the synthetic religions of the Nineteenth Century. They have\nseen through all of them.\n\nThey have seen through the religion of nature to which the early\nromantics turned for consolation. They have heard too much about\nthe brutality of natural selection to feel, as Wordsworth did, that\npleasant landscapes are divine. They have seen through the religion\nof beauty because, for one thing, they are too much oppressed by the\nugliness of Main Street. They cannot take refuge in an ivory tower\nbecause the modern apartment house, with a radio loudspeaker on the\nfloor above and on the floor below and just across the courtyard,\nwill not permit it. They cannot, like Mazzini, make a religion of\npatriotism, because they have just been demobilized. They cannot make\na religion of science like the post-Darwinians because they do not\nunderstand modern science. They never learned enough mathematics and\nphysics. They do not like Bernard Shaw\u2019s religion of creative evolution\nbecause they have read enough to know that Mr. Shaw\u2019s biology is\nliterary and evangelical. As for the religion of progress, that is\npre-empted by George F. Babbitt and the Rotary Club, and the religion\nof humanity is utterly unacceptable to those who have to ride in the\nsubways during the rush hour.\n\nYet the current attempts to modernize religious creeds are inspired\nby the hope that somehow it will be possible to construct a form of\nbelief which will fit into this vacuum. It is evident that life soon\nbecomes distracted and tiresome if it is not illuminated by communion\nwith what William James called \u201ca wider self through which saving\nexperiences come.\u201d The eager search for new religions, [p019] the\nhasty adherence to cults, and the urgent appeals for a reconciliation\nbetween religion and science are confessions that to the modern man\nhis activity seems to have no place in any rational order. His life\nseems mere restlessness and compulsion, rather than conduct lighted by\nluminous beliefs. He is possessed by a great deal of excitement amidst\nwhich, as Mr. Santayana once remarked, he redoubles his effort when he\nhas forgotten his aim.\n\nFor in the modern age, at first imperceptibly with the rise of the\ntowns, and then catastrophically since the mechanical revolution, there\nhave gone into dissolution not only the current orthodoxy, but the\nsocial order and the ways of living which supported it. Thus rebellion\nand emancipation have come to mean something far more drastic than\nthey have ever meant before. The earlier rebels summoned men from one\nallegiance to another, but the feeling for certainty in religion and\nfor decorum in society persisted. In the modern world it is this very\nfeeling of certainty itself which is dissolving. It is dissolving not\nmerely for an educated minority but for everyone who comes within the\norbit of modernity.\n\nYet there remain the wants which orthodoxy of some sort satisfies. The\nnatural man, when he is released from restraints, and has no substitute\nfor them, is at sixes and sevens with himself and the world. For in the\nfree play of his uninhibited instincts he does not find any natural\nsubstitute for those accumulated convictions which, however badly\nthey did it, nevertheless organized his soul, economized his effort,\nconsoled him, and gave him dignity in his own eyes because he was part\nof some greater whole. The acids of modernity are so powerful that they\ndo not [p020] tolerate a crystallization of ideas which will serve as\na new orthodoxy into which men can retreat. And so the modern world\nis haunted by a realization, which it becomes constantly less easy to\nignore, that it is impossible to reconstruct an enduring orthodoxy, and\nimpossible to live well without the satisfactions which an orthodoxy\nwould provide.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II [p021]\n\nGOD IN THE MODERN WORLD\n\n\n1. _Imago Dei_\n\nBy the dissolution of their ancestral ways men have been deprived of\ntheir sense of certainty as to why they were born, why they must work,\nwhom they must love, what they must honor, where they may turn in\nsorrow and defeat. They have left to them the ancient codes and the\nmodern criticism of these codes, guesses, intuitions, inconclusive\nexperiments, possibilities, probabilities, hypotheses. Below the level\nof reason, they may have unconscious prejudice, they may speak with a\nloud cocksureness, they may act with fanaticism. But there is gone that\nineffable certainty which once made God and His Plan seem as real as\nthe lamppost.\n\nI do not mean that modern men have ceased to believe in God. I do\nmean that they no longer believe in him simply and literally. I mean\nthat they have defined and refined their ideas of him until they can\nno longer honestly say that he exists, as they would say that their\nneighbor exists. Search the writings of liberal churchmen, and when\nyou come to the crucial passages which are intended to express their\nbelief in God, you will find, I think, that at just this point their\nuncertainty is most evident.\n\nThe Reverend Harry Emerson Fosdick has written an essay, called \u201cHow\nShall We Think of God?\u201d, which illustrates [p022] the difficulty.\nHe begins by saying that \u201cbelieving in God without considering how\none shall picture him is deplorably unsatisfactory.\u201d Yet the old ways\nof picturing him are no longer credible. We cannot think of him as\nseated upon a throne, while around him are angels playing on harps\nand singing hymns. \u201cGod as a king on high\u2014our fathers, living under\nmonarchy, rejoiced in that image and found it meaningful. His throne,\nhis crown, his scepter, his seraphic retinue, his laws, rewards, and\npunishments\u2014how dominant that picture was and how persistent is the\ncontinuance of it in our hymns and prayers! It was always partly\npoetry, but it had a prose background: there really had been at first a\ncelestial land above the clouds where God reigned and where his throne\nwas in the heavens.\u201d\n\nHaving said that this picture is antiquated, Dr. Fosdick goes on to\nstate that \u201cthe religious man must have imaginations of God, if God\nis to be real to him.\u201d He must \u201cpicture his dealing with the Divine\nin terms of personal relationship.\u201d But how? \u201cThe place where man\nvitally finds God ... is within his own experience of goodness, truth,\nand beauty, and the truest images of God are therefore to be found in\nman\u2019s spiritual life.\u201d I should be the last to deny that a man may,\nif he chooses, think of God as the source of all that seems to him\nworthy in human experience. But certainly this is not the God of the\nancient faith. This is not God the Father, the Lawgiver, the Judge.\nThis is a highly sophisticated idea of God, employed by a modern man\nwho would like to say, but cannot say with certainty, that there exists\na personal God to whom men must accommodate themselves. [p023]\n\n\n2. _An Indefinite God_\n\nIt may be that clear and unambiguous statements are not now possible in\nour intellectual climate. But at least we should not forget that the\nreligions which have dominated human history have been founded on what\nthe faithful felt were undeniable facts. These facts were mysterious\nonly in the sense that they were uncommon, like an eclipse of the sun,\nbut not in the sense that they were beyond human experience. No doubt\nthere are passages in the Scriptures written by highly cultivated men\nin which the Divine nature is called mysterious and unknowable. But\nthese passages are not the rock upon which the popular churches are\nfounded. No one, I think, has truly observed the religious life of\nsimple people without understanding how plain, how literal, how natural\nthey take their supernatural personages to be.\n\nThe popular gods are not indefinite and unknowable. They have a\ndefinite history and their favorite haunts, and they have often been\nseen. They walk on earth, they might appear to anyone, they are\nangered, they are pleased, they weep and they rejoice, they eat and\nthey may fall in love. The modern man uses the word \u2018supernatural\u2019\nto describe something that seems to him not quite so credible as\nthe things he calls natural. This is not the supernaturalism of the\ndevout. They do not distinguish two planes of reality and two orders of\ncertainty. For them Jesus Christ was born of a Virgin and was raised\nfrom the dead as literally as Napoleon was Emperor of the French and\nreturned from Elba.\n\nThis is the kind of certainty one no longer finds in the [p024]\nutterances of modern men. I might cite, for example, a typically modern\nassertion about the existence of God, made by Mr. W. C. Brownell, a\ncritic who could not be reproached with insensitiveness to the value of\ntraditional beliefs. He wrote that \u201cthe influence of the Holy Spirit,\nexquisitely called the Comforter, is a matter of actual experience,\nas solid a reality as that of electro-magnetism.\u201d I do not suppose\nthat Mr. Brownell meant to admit the least possible doubt. But he was\na modern man, and surreptitiously doubt invaded his certainty. For\nelectro-magnetism is not an absolutely solid reality to a layman\u2019s\nmind. It has a questionable reality. I suspect that is why Mr.\nBrownell chose this metaphor; it would have seemed a little too blunt\nto his modern intelligence to say that his faith was founded not on\nelectro-magnetism, but as men once believed, on a rock.\n\nThe attempts to reconstruct religious creeds are beset by the\nmodern man\u2019s inability to convince himself that the constitution of\nthe universe includes facts which in our skeptical jargon we call\nsupernatural. Yet as William James once said, \u201creligion, in her fullest\nexercise of function, is not a mere illumination of facts already\nelsewhere given, not a mere passion, like love, which views things in\na rosier light.... It is something more, namely, a postulator of new\n_facts_ as well.\u201d James himself was strongly disposed toward what he so\ncandidly described as \u201coverbeliefs\u201d; he had sympathy with the beliefs\nof others which was as large and charitable as any man\u2019s can be. There\nwas no trace of the intellectual snob in William James; he was in the\nother camp from those thin argumentative rationalists who find so much\nsatisfaction [p025] in disproving what other men hold sacred. James\nloved cranks and naifs and sought them out for the wisdom they might\nhave. But withal he was a modern man who lived toward the climax of the\nrevolutionary period. He had the Will to Believe, he argued eloquently\nfor the Right to Believe. But he did not wholly believe. The utmost\nthat he could honestly believe was something which he confessed would\n\u201cappear a sorry underbelief\u201d to some of his readers. \u201cWho knows,\u201d he\nsaid, \u201cwhether the faithfulness of individuals here below to their\nown poor overbeliefs may not actually help God in turn to be more\neffectively faithful to his own greater tasks?\u201d Who knows? And on that\nquestion mark he paused and could say no more.\n\n\n3. _God in More Senses Than One_\n\nBut even if there was some uncertainty as to the existence of the God\nwhom William James described, he was at least the kind of God with whom\nhuman beings could commune. If they could jump the initial doubt they\nfound themselves in an exciting world where they might live for a God\nwho, like themselves, had work to do. James wrote the passage I have\nquoted in 1902. A quarter of a century later Alfred North Whitehead\ncame to Harvard to deliver the Lowell Lectures. He undertook to define\nGod for modern men.\n\nMr. Whitehead, like William James, is a compassionate man and on the\nside of the angels. But his is a wholly modernized mind in full command\nof all the conceptual instruments of scientific logic. By contrast with\nthe austerity of Mr. Whitehead\u2019s thinking, James, with his [p026]\nchivalrous offer of fealty to God, seems like one of the last of the\ngreat romantics. There is a God in Mr. Whitehead\u2019s philosophy, and a\nvery necessary God at that. Unhappily, I am not enough of a logician\nto say that I am quite sure I understand what it means to say that\n\u201cGod is not concrete, but He is the ground for concrete actuality.\u201d\nThere have been moments when I imagined I had caught the meaning of\nthis, but there have been more moments when I knew that I had not. I\nhave never doubted, however, that the concept had meaning, and that I\nmissed it because it was too deep for me. Why then, it may be asked, do\nI presume to discuss it? My answer is that a conception of God, which\nis incomprehensible to all who are not highly trained logicians, is a\npossible God for logicians alone. It is not presumptuous to say of Mr.\nWhitehead\u2019s God what he himself says of Aristotle\u2019s God: that it does\n\u201cnot lead him very far toward the production of a God available for\nreligious purposes.\u201d\n\nFor while this God may satisfy a metaphysical need in the thinker, he\ndoes not satisfy the passions of the believer. This God does not govern\nthe world like a king nor watch over his children like a father. He\noffers them no purposes to which they can consecrate themselves; he\nexhibits no image of holiness they can imitate. He does not chastise\nthem in sin nor console them in sorrow. He is a principle with which\nto explain the facts, if you can understand the explanation. He is\nnot himself a personality who deals with the facts. For the purposes\nof religion he is no God at all; his universe remains stonily unaware\nof man. Nothing has happened by accepting [p027] Mr. Whitehead\u2019s\ndefinition which changes the inexorable character of that destiny which\nBertrand Russell depicted when he wrote that\n\n we see, surrounding the narrow raft illumined by the flickering\n light of human comradeship, the dark ocean on whose rolling waves\n we toss for a brief hour; from the great night without, a chill\n blast breaks in upon our refuge; all the loneliness of humanity\n amid hostile forces is concentrated upon the individual soul, which\n must struggle alone, with what of courage it can command, against\n the whole weight of a universe that cares nothing for its hopes and\n fears.\n\nIt is a nice question whether the use of God\u2019s name is not misleading\nwhen it is applied by modernists to ideas so remote from the God men\nhave worshiped. Plainly the modernist churchman does not believe in the\nGod of Genesis who walked in the garden in the cool of the evening and\ncalled to Adam and his wife who had hidden themselves behind a tree;\nnor in the God of Exodus who appeared to Moses and Aaron and seventy of\nthe Elders of Israel, standing with his feet upon a paved walk as if it\nwere a sapphire stone; nor even in the God of the fifty-third chapter\nof Isaiah who in his compassion for the sheep who have gone astray,\nhaving turned everyone to his own way, laid on the Man of Sorrows the\niniquity of us all.\n\nThis, as Kirsopp Lake says, is the God of most, if not all, the\nwritings in the Bible. Yet \u201chowever much our inherited sentiments may\nshrink from the admission, the scientists are to-day almost unanimous\nin saying that the universe as they see it contains no evidence\nof the existence [p028] of any anthropomorphic God whatever. The\nexperimentalist (_i.e._, modernist) wholly agrees that this is so.\nNevertheless he refuses as a rule, and I think rightly\u2014to abandon the\nuse of the word \u2018God.\u2019\u201d In justification of this refusal to abandon the\nword \u2018God,\u2019 although he has abandoned the accepted meaning of the word,\nDr. Lake appeals to a tradition which reaches back at least to Origen\nwho, as a Christian neo-platonist, used the word \u2018God\u2019 to mean, not the\nKing and Father of creation, but the sum of all ideal values. It was\nthis redefinition of the word \u2018God,\u2019 he says, which \u201cmade Christianity\npossible for the educated man of the third century.\u201d It is this same\nredefinition which still makes Christianity possible for educated\nchurchmen like Dr. Lake and Dean Inge.\n\nDr. Lake admits that although this attractive bypath of tradition\n\u201cis intellectually adorned by many princes of thought and lords of\nlanguage\u201d it is \u201cecclesiastically not free from reproach.\u201d He avows\nanother reason for his use of the word \u2018God\u2019 which, if not more\ncompelling, is certainly more worldly. \u201cAtheist\u201d has meant since Roman\ntimes an enemy of society; it gives a wholly false impression of the\nreal state of mind of those who adhere to the platonic tradition. They\nhave been wholly without the defiance which \u201catheism\u201d connotes; on\nthe contrary they have been a few individuals in each age who lived\npeaceably within the shelter of the church, worshiping a somewhat\ndifferent God inwardly and in their own way, and often helping to\nrefresh the more mundane spirit of the popular church. The term\n\u201cagnostic\u201d is almost as unavailable. It was invented to describe a\ntolerant unbelief in the anthropomorphic God. In popular usage it has\ncome [p029] to mean about the same thing as atheist, for the instinct\nof the common man is sound in these matters. He feels that those who\nclaim to be open-minded about God have for all practical purposes\nceased to believe in him. The agnostic\u2019s reply that he would gladly\nbelieve if the evidence would confirm it, does not alter the fact that\nhe does not now believe. And so Dr. Lake concludes that the modernist\nmust use the word \u2018God\u2019 in his own sense, \u201cendeavoring partly to\npreserve Origen\u2019s meaning of the word, and partly shrinking from any\nother policy as open to misconstruction.\u201d\n\nI confess that the notion of adopting a policy about God somehow shocks\nme as intruding a rather worldly consideration which would seem to be\nwholly out of place. But this feeling is, I am sure, an injustice to\nDr. Lake who is plainly and certainly not a worldling. He is moved, no\ndoubt, by the conviction that in letting \u2018God\u2019 mean one thing to the\nmass of the devout and another to the educated minority, the loss of\nintellectual precision is more than compensated by the preservation\nof a community of feeling. This is not mere expediency. It may be the\npart of wisdom, which is profounder than mere reasoning, to wish that\nintellectual distinctions shall not divide men too sharply.\n\nBut if it is wisdom, it is an aristocratic wisdom. And in Dean Inge\u2019s\nwritings this is frankly avowed. \u201cThe strength of Christianity,\u201d\nhe says, \u201cis in transforming the lives of individuals\u2014of a small\nminority, certainly, as Christ clearly predicted, but a large number\nin the aggregate. To rescue a little flock, here and there, from\nmaterialism, selfishness, and hatred, is the task of the [p030] Church\nof Christ in all ages alike, and there is no likelihood that it will\never be otherwise.\u201d\n\nBut in other ages, one thing was otherwise. And in this one thing\nlies the radical peculiarity of the modern difficulty. In other ages\nthere was no acknowledged distinction between the ultimate beliefs of\nthe educated and the uneducated. There were differences in learning,\nin religious genius, in the closeness of a chosen few to God and his\nangels. Inwardly there were even radical differences of meaning. But\ncritical analysis had not made them overt and evident, and the common\nassumption was that there was one God for all, for the peasant who saw\nhim dimly and could approach him only through his patron saint, and for\nthe holy man who had seen God and talked with him face to face. It has\nremained for churchmen of our era to distinguish two or more different\nGods, and openly to say that they are different. This may be a triumph\nof candor and of intelligence. But this very consciousness of what they\nare doing, these very honest admissions that the God of Dean Inge, for\nexample, is only in name the God of millions of other protestants\u2014that\nis an admission, when they understand it, which makes faith difficult\nfor modern men.\n\n\n4. _The Protest of the Fundamentalists_\n\nFundamentalism is a protest against all these definitions and\nattenuations which the modern man finds it necessary to make. It is\navowedly a reaction within the Protestant communions against what\nthe President of the World\u2019s Christian Fundamentalist Association\nrather accurately described as \u201cthat weasel method of sucking the\nmeaning [p031] out of words, and then presenting the empty shells in\nan attempt to palm them off as giving the Christian faith a new and\nanother interpretation.\u201d In actual practice this movement has become\nentangled with all sorts of bizarre and barbarous agitations, with the\nKu Klux Klan, with fanatical prohibition, with the \u201canti-evolution\nlaws,\u201d and with much persecution and intolerance. This in itself\nis significant. For it shows that the central truth, which the\nfundamentalists have grasped, no longer appeals to the best brains\nand the good sense of a modern community, and that the movement is\nrecruited largely from the isolated, the inexperienced, and the\nuneducated.\n\nInto the politics of the heated controversy between modernists and\nfundamentalists I do not propose here to enter. That it is not merely\na dispute in the realm of the spirit is made evident by the President\nof the Fundamentalist Association when he avers that \u201cnothing\u201d holds\nmodernists and fundamentalists together except \u201cthe billions of dollars\ninvested. Nine out of ten of these dollars, if not ninety-nine out of\nevery hundred of them, spent to construct the great denominational\nuniversities, colleges, schools of second grade, theological\nseminaries, great denominational mission stations, the multiplied\nhospitals that bear denominational names, the immense publication\nsocieties and the expensive societies were given by fundamentalists\nand filched by modernists. It took hundreds of years to collect this\nmoney and construct these institutions. It has taken only a quarter of\na century for the liberal bandits to capture them....\u201d\n\nNot all the fundamentalist argument, however, is pitched at this\nlevel. There is also a reasoned case against [p032] the modernists.\nFortunately this case has been stated in a little book called\n_Christianity and Liberalism_ by a man who is both a scholar and a\ngentleman. The author is Professor J. Gresham Machen of the Princeton\nTheological Seminary. It is an admirable book. For its acumen, for its\nsaliency, and for its wit this cool and stringent defense of orthodox\nProtestantism is, I think, the best popular argument produced by either\nside in the current controversy. We shall do well to listen to Dr.\nMachen.\n\nModernism, he says, \u201cis altogether in the imperative mood,\u201d while\nthe traditional religion \u201cbegins with a triumphant indicative.\u201d I\ndo not see how one can deny the force of this generalization. \u201cFrom\nthe beginning Christianity was certainly a way of life. _But how was\nthe life to be produced?_ Not by appealing to the human will, but by\ntelling a story; not by exhortation, but by the narration of an event.\u201d\nDr. Machen insists, rightly I think, that the historic influence of\nChristianity on the mass of men has depended upon their belief that\nan historic drama was enacted in Palestine nineteen hundred years\nago during the reign of the Emperor Tiberius. The veracity of that\nstory was fundamental to the Christian Church. For while all the\nideal values may remain if you impugn the historic record set forth\nin the Gospels, these ideal values are not certified to the common\nman as inherent in the very nature of things. Once they are deprived\nof their root in historic fact, their poetry, their symbolism, their\nethical significance depend for their sanction upon the temperament\nand experience of the individual believer. There is gone that deep,\ncompulsive, organic faith in an external fact which is the essence of\nreligion for all but [p033] that very small minority who can live\nwithin themselves in mystical communion or by the power of their\nunderstanding. For the great mass of men, if the history of religions\nis to be trusted, religious experience depends upon a complete belief\nin the concrete existence, one might almost say the materialization,\nof their God. The fundamentalist goes to the very heart of the matter,\ntherefore, when he insists that you have destroyed the popular\nfoundations of religion if you make your gospel a symbolic record of\nexperience, and reject it as an actual record of events.\n\nThe liberals have yet to answer Dr. Machen when he says that \u201cthe\nChristian movement at its inception was not just a way of life in the\nmodern sense, but a way of life founded upon a message. It was based,\nnot upon mere feeling, not upon a mere program of work, but on an\naccount of facts.\u201d It was based on the story of the birth, the life,\nthe ministry, the death, and the resurrection of Jesus Christ. That\nstory set forth the facts which certify the Christian experience.\nModernism, which in varying degree casts doubt upon the truth of that\nstory, may therefore be defined as an attempt to preserve selected\nparts of the experience after the facts which inspired it have been\nrejected. The orthodox believer may be mistaken as to the facts in\nwhich he believes. But he is not mistaken in thinking that you cannot,\nfor the mass of men, have a faith of which the only foundation is\ntheir need and desire to believe. The historic churches, without any\nimportant exceptions, I think, have founded faith on clear statements\nabout matters of fact, historic events, or physical manifestations.\nThey have never been content [p034] with a symbolism which the\nbeliever knew was merely symbolic. Only the sophisticated in their\nprivate meditations and in esoteric writing have found satisfaction in\nsymbolism as such.\n\nComplete as was Dr. Machen\u2019s victory over the Protestant liberals,\nhe did not long remain in possession of the field. There is a deeper\nfundamentalism than his, and it is based on a longer continuous\nexperience. This is the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church. From\na priest of that church, Father Riggs, has come the most searching\ncriticism of Dr. Machen\u2019s case. Writing in the _Commonweal_ Father\nRiggs points out that \u201cthe fundamentalists are well-nigh powerless.\nThey are estopped, so to speak, from stemming the ravaging waters\nof agnosticism because they cannot, while remaining loyal to the\n(Protestant) reformers ... set limits to destructive criticism of the\nBible without making an un-Protestant appeal to tradition.\u201d Father\nRiggs, in other words, is asking the Protestant fundamentalists, like\nDr. Machen, how they can be certain that they know these _facts_ upon\nwhich they assert that the Christian religion is founded.\n\nThey must reply that they know them from reading the Bible. The\nreply is, however, unsatisfying. For obviously there are many ways\nof reading the Bible, and therefore the Protestant who demands the\nright of private judgment can never know with absolute certainty that\nhis reading is the correct one. His position in a skeptical age is,\ntherefore, as Father Riggs points out, a weak one, because a private\njudgment is, after all, only a private judgment. The history of\nProtestantism shows that the exercise of private judgment as to the\nmeaning of Scripture [p035] leads not to universal and undeniable\ndogma, but to schism within schism and heresy within heresy. From\nthe point of view, then, of the oldest fundamentalism of the western\nworld the error of the modernists is that they deny the facts on which\nreligious faith reposes; the error of the orthodox Protestants is\nthat although they affirm the facts, they reject all authority which\ncan verify them; the virtue of the Catholic system is that along with\na dogmatic affirmation of the central facts, it provides a living\nauthority in the Church which can ascertain and demonstrate and verify\nthese facts.\n\n\n5. _In Man\u2019s Image_\n\nThe long record of clerical opposition to certain kinds of scientific\ninquiry has a touch of dignity when it is realized that at the core of\nthat opposition there is a very profound understanding of the religious\nneeds of ordinary men. For once you weaken the belief that the central\nfacts taught by the churches are facts in the most literal and absolute\nsense, the disintegration of the popular religion begins. We may\nconfidently declare that Mr. Santayana is speaking not as a student of\nhuman nature, but as a cultivated unbeliever, when he writes that \u201cthe\nidea that religion contains a literal, not a symbolic, representation\nof truth and life is simply an impossible idea.\u201d The idea is\nimpossible, no doubt, for the children of the great emancipation. But\nbecause it is impossible, religion itself, in the traditional popular\nmeaning of the term, has become impossible for them.\n\nIf it is true that man creates God in his own image, it is no less true\nthat for religious devotion he must remain [p036] unconscious of that\nfact. Once he knows that he has created the image of God, the reality\nof it vanishes like last night\u2019s dream. It may be that to anyone who is\nimpregnated with the modern spirit it is almost self-evident that the\ntruths of religion are truths of human experience. But this knowledge\ndoes not tolerate an abiding and absorbing faith. For when the truths\nof religion have lost their connection with a superhuman order, the\ncord of their life is cut. What remains is a somewhat archaic, a\nsomewhat questionable, although a very touching, quaint medley of\npoetry, rhetoric, fable, exhortation, and insight into human travail.\nWhen Mr. Santayana says that \u201cmatters of religion should never be\nmatters of controversy\u201d because \u201cwe never argue with a lover about\nhis taste, nor condemn him, if we are just, for knowing so human a\npassion,\u201d he expresses an ultimate unbelief.\n\nFor what would be the plight of a lover, if we told him that his\npassion was charming?\u2014though, of course, there might be no such lady\nas the one he loved.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III [p037]\n\nTHE LOSS OF CERTAINTY\n\n\n1. _Ways of Reading the Bible_\n\nIt is important to an understanding of this matter that we should not\nconfuse the modern practice of redefining God with the ancient use of\nallegory.\n\nFrom the earliest days the words of the Bible have been embroidered\nwith luxuriant and often fantastic meanings. In Leviticus it says,\nfor example, that the meal offering may be baked in an oven, fried in\na pan, or toasted on a plate. This passage, says Origen, proves that\nScripture must have three meanings. It came to have any number of\nmeanings. Thus St. Augustine explained that Eden meant the life of the\nblessed, and its four rivers the four virtues; farther on in the same\nchapter he declares that Eden is the Church, and that its four rivers\nare the four Gospels.\n\nIn the same manner Wyclif in a later age preached a sermon explaining\nthe parable of the Good Samaritan. The man who went down from Jerusalem\nto Jericho represents Adam and Eve; the robbers are the fiends of hell;\nthe priest and Levite who went by on the other side are the patriarchs,\nsaints, and prophets who failed to bring salvation; the Good Samaritan\nis Jesus; the wine which he pours into his wounds is sharp words to\nprick men from sin, and the oil is hope.... Savonarola, we are [p038]\ntold, preached during the whole of Lent, 1492, taking as his text\nNoah\u2019s Ark and \u201cgiving each day a different interpretation of the ten\nplanks of which the Ark was composed.\u201d\n\nBy this method of interpretation the devout adapted the Bible to\ntheir own uses, smoothing away its contradictions and explaining\naway passages, like the command in Genesis to kill uncircumcised\nchildren, which, read literally, would have seemed to them barbarous\nand immoral. We must be careful, however, not to misunderstand this\nmethod of thought. When they said that the beautiful woman in the Song\nof Solomon was the Church, they were not conscious, as we are, that\nthis is a figure of speech. There had not entered into their habits of\nthought the kind of analytical precision in which one thing can mean\nonly one thing. It is no contradiction to say that the allegory was\ntaken literally; certainly there was no sense of unreality about it,\nas there is for us. \u201cThese and similar allegorical interpretations may\nbe suitably put ...\u201d says St. Augustine, speaking here to the educated\nminority, \u201cwithout giving offense to anyone, while yet we believe the\nstrict truth of the history confirmed by its circumstantial narrative\nof facts.\u201d\n\nBut at last men became too analytical and too self-conscious to accept\nthe naive use of allegory. They realized that allegory was a loose\nmethod of interpretation which lent itself easily to the citing of\nscripture in order to justify heresy. If the ten planks in Noah\u2019s Ark\ncould mean a different set of truths on each day in Lent, there was\nno telling what they might come to mean in the end. It was clear,\ntherefore, that allegory was dangerous [p039] and might, as Luther\nsaid, \u201cdegenerate into a mere monkey game\u201d; it was wanton, like \u201ca sort\nof beautiful harlot who proves herself spiritually seductive to idle\nmen.\u201d\n\nThis danger was a result of the general loosening of organic\nfaith which was already evident in Luther\u2019s day. To men who had\nthe unconscious certainties about God and his universe, allegory\nwas a perfectly safe method of interpreting the Bible because all\nthe interpretations, however fantastic, were inspired by the same\npre-judgments and tended therefore to confirm the same convictions. The\nallegories of simple men are like many-colored flowers in one garden,\ngrowing from the same soil, watered by the same rains, turning their\nfaces toward the same sun. But as men became emancipated from their\nancestral way of life, their convictions about God and destiny and\nhuman morality changed. Then the method of allegory ceased to be the\nmerely exuberant expression of the same ancient truths, and became a\nconfusing method of rationalizing all kinds of new experiments. It\npromoted heresy because men had become heretical, where once, while men\nwere devout, it had only embroidered their devotions.\n\n\u201cTo allegorize is to juggle with Scripture,\u201d said Luther. The\nProtestant Reformers could not tolerate that. For they lived in an\nage when faith was already disintegrating, and they had themselves\ndestroyed the authority of an infallible source of religion. \u201cWe must,\u201d\nwrote Calvin, \u201centirely reject the allegories of Origen, and of others\nlike him, which Satan, with the deepest subtlety, has endeavored to\nintroduce into the Church, for the [p040] purpose of rendering the\ndoctrine of Scripture ambiguous and destitute of all certainty and\nfirmness.\u201d\n\nThe insistence of the Reformers on a literal interpretation of the\nBible had, as Dr. Fosdick points out, two unforeseen results. It led\nto the so-called Higher Criticism which in substance is nothing but a\nscientific attempt to find out what the Bible did mean literally to\nthose who wrote it. And this in turn made it practically impossible for\nmodern men to believe all that the Bible literally says. When they read\nthe Bible as allegory they found in it unending confirmation of what\nthey already believed. But when they read it literally, as history, as\nastronomy, and biology, and as a code of laws, it contradicted at many\ncrucial points the practical working convictions of their daily lives.\n\u201cThe consequence is,\u201d says Dr. Fosdick, \u201cthat we face the Biblical\nworld made historically vivid over against the modern world presently\nexperienced, and we cannot use the old method (_i.e._ allegory) of\naccommodating one to the other.\u201d\n\n\n2. _Modernism: Immortality as an Example_\n\nThis predicament forced modern churchmen to seek what Dr. Fosdick calls\n\u201ca new solution.\u201d They could not believe that the Bible was taken down,\nas John Donne put it, by \u201cthe Secretaries of the Holy Ghost.\u201d Yet they\nbelieved, as every sane man does, that the Bible contains wisdom which\nbears deeply upon the conduct of human life. Their problem was to find\na way of picking and choosing passages in the Scriptures, and then of\ninterpreting those which were chosen in such a way as to make them\ncredible to modern men. They had to find some [p041] way of setting\naside the story that God made Eve out of Adam\u2019s rib, that God commanded\nthe massacre of whole populations, and that he enjoyed the slaughter of\nanimals at the sacrifice; but they had at the same time to find a way\nof preserving for the use of modern men the lessons of the ministry of\nJesus and the promise of life everlasting.\n\nThe method they employ is based on a theory. It is a theory that the\nBible contains \u201cabiding messages\u201d placed in a \u201ctransient setting.\u201d The\nBible, for example, is full of stories about devils and angels. Now,\nmodern men do not believe in devils and angels. These are \u201ccategories\u201d\nwhich they have outgrown. But what the devils and angels stood for\nare evils and blessings which modern men still encounter. We have,\ntherefore, only to \u201cdecode\u201d the Bible, and where it speaks of devils\nto see temptations, sin, disease, pain, and suffering, which have a\npsychic origin; where it speaks of angels to remember that sense of\nunseen friendliness which may help us at a crisis in our lives. The old\nwine is still good, but it needs to be put in new bottles. \u201cThe modern\npreacher\u2019s responsibility is thus to decode the abiding meanings of\nScripture from outgrown phraseology.\u201d\n\nThis is not so difficult a thing to do for the devils and the angels.\nBut a little reflection will show, I think, that in dealing with\nthe major themes of religion, the solution is not so easy. The real\ndifficulty appears when Dr. Fosdick attempts to decode the biblical\npromise of immortal life.\n\nHe begins by rejecting completely the resurrection of the flesh and\nany kind of immortality which is imagined as the survival of the\nphysical person. Yet he believes [p042] in \u201cthe persistence of\npersonality through death.\u201d For he maintains that without this belief\nthe final victory of death would signify \u201cthe triumphant irrationality\nof existence\u201d; not to believe in immortality is to submit to \u201cmental\nconfusion.\u201d Speaking quite frankly, however, he cannot easily imagine\n\u201ca completely disembodied existence.\u201d Yet it is obviously not easy to\nimagine the persistence of personality through death once you have made\nup your mind not to imagine a concrete heaven inhabited by well-defined\npersons.\n\nModern churchmen, like Dean Inge for example, who have faced the\ndifficulty more boldly than Dr. Fosdick does, arrive at an intelligible\nexplanation of what they mean by immortality. But they mean something\nwhich is not only very difficult to understand, but extremely difficult\nfor most men to enjoy when they have understood it. They inject\nintelligible meaning into the word \u201ceternal\u201d by employing it in a sense\nwhich is wholly different from that which the common man employs.\nBy immortality he means life that goes on age after age without\nstopping. But the modern churchmen who have really clarified their\nminds are platonists. They apply the word \u201ceternal\u201d to that which is\nindependent of time and existence. Between the two conceptions there\nis the profoundest difference, for in the commonsense of the worldling\nexistence is so precious that he wishes it to continue for ever and\never. But to the platonist existence, or embodiment, is transient,\naccidental, irrational; only that is permanent which is timeless.\nCommonsense demands that if we are immortal we should meet our friend\nagain later and continue our friendship; the platonist [p043] loves\nthe memory of his friend after death as he loved an ideal image of him\nduring his life. In communing with his memories and his ideals he knows\nhimself to be in touch with eternal things. For not even the gods, says\nHomer, can undo the past; no accident of mortality can destroy anything\nwhich can be represented in the mind. Heroes die, but that such heroic\ndeeds were done is a chapter forever, as Mr. Santayana says, in any\ncomplete history of the universe. The thinker dies, but his thoughts\nare beyond the reach of destruction. Men are mortal; but ideas are\nimmortal.\n\nI do not know whether I have known how to state clearly what is meant\nby this platonic view to which, in varying degrees of clarity, all\nemancipated minds turn when they talk of immortality. But, at least, it\nis clear that it is a conception which calls for a radically different\nadjustment to life than that to which the worldling is accustomed. He\ndesires objects to love, goods and successes that are perishable, and\nhe wishes them not to perish. Before he can enter the platonic world,\nbefore he can even attain to a hint of its meaning, he must abandon the\nvery desires of which his hope of immortality is the expression. He\nmust detach himself from his wish to acquire and possess objects that\ndie; he must learn what it means to possess things not by holding them,\nbut by understanding them, and to enjoy them as objects of reflection.\nHe must not only cease to desire immortality as he conceives it, but\nthe material embodiment of things as well. Then only, when he has\nrenounced his love of existence, can he begin to love the forms of\nexistence, and to live among imperishable ideas. [p044] Then, and in\nthis sense only, does he enter into eternal life.\n\nThe ordinary man, when he hears this doctrine expounded, is almost\ncertain to say with the Indian sage: \u201cthe worship of the Impersonal\nlaid no hold upon my heart.\u201d His heart is set on the enjoyment of\nworldly goods, and the doctrine, for all but a few exceptional spirits,\nrequires a radical change of heart. It is forbidding except to the few\nin whom \u201cthe intellect (is) passionate and the passions cold.\u201d For it\ndemands a conversion of their natural desire to possess tangible things\ninto a passion to understand intangible and abstract things. This\nphilosophy is ascetic, unworldly, and profoundly disinterested.\n\nNow it can be argued that this is precisely what the Gospels teach as\nto the meaning of salvation. Excellent authority can be cited from the\nGospel of John and the Epistles of St. Paul to justify this form of\nthe Christian tradition: \u201cFlesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom\nof God\u201d ... \u201cthe things that are seen are temporal, but the things\nthat are not seen are eternal\u201d ... \u201cI see another law in my members,\nwarring against the law of my mind.\u201d It can hardly be denied, as Dean\nInge says, that \u201cwe are able to carry back to the fountain-head that\nChristian tradition\u201d which may quite accurately be described as the\nreligion of the spirit. But mixed with it in the Scripture, there is\nthe other tradition, the popular tradition which may be called the\nreligion of commonsense. Out of this latter have grown the institutions\nof the church and the faith of the mass of men. The religion of the\nspirit has been reserved for a few, \u201ca succession [p045] of lives\nwhich have been sheltered rather than inspired by the machinery and\nstatecraft of a mighty institution,\u201d and while the few who lived the\nlife of the spirit have undoubtedly done much to inspire the popular\nreligion with new insight, they have been, on the whole, a group apart.\n\nYet those who belonged to these two distinct traditions did use the\nsame churches and the same symbolism. There was an even deeper bond of\nunity between them. Both believed that renunciation and self-discipline\nare the way of salvation\u2014in the religion of the spirit as the way to\nenter now into love of eternal things; in the religion of commonsense\nas a rather heavy price paid to God in return for everlasting happiness\nafter death. It may be argued, therefore, by churchmen like Dr.\nFosdick, that the \u201cabiding message\u201d of the Bible about immortality is\nthat men must renounce the world in order to win eternity. That some\nmen mean by eternity a kind of perpetual motion and others a kind of\nabstraction is merely a difference in their habits of thought, and does\nnot impair the validity or the importance of the central experience. If\nthey will renounce their worldly passions, they will find what the idea\nof eternity has to give, no matter what they imagine it to mean.\n\nBut although Dr. Fosdick implies that this solves the difficulty, it\ncan be shown, I believe, that it does not. What he has succeeded in\ndoing is to disentangle from the Bible a meaning for immortality which\nhas a noble tradition behind it and is at the same time intellectually\npossible for a modern man. But the history of religion ought to put\nus on guard against assuming too easily [p046] that a statement of\nthe purest truth is in itself capable of affecting the lives of any\nconsiderable number of people. Dean Inge, who is a very much more\nclear-headed churchman, says quite frankly that \u201ca religion succeeds,\nnot because it is true, but because it suits the worshippers.\u201d Merely\nto tell men, however fervently, that they may conquer mortality by\nrenouncing the flesh, will not go far toward persuading many of them\nto renounce the flesh. There must be, as there has been in all the\nhistoric religions, something more than a statement of the moral law.\nThere must be a psychological machinery for enforcing the moral law.\n\nFor those who are suited to the religion of the spirit no machinery is\nneeded. But for the mass of men who are not naturally suited to it,\na machinery which compels this conversion is indispensable. Jesus in\nhis time, and Gautama Buddha before him, taught a moral law which was\naddressed to those who could receive it. They were not many. Buddhism\nand Christianity became world religions centuries after the death of\ntheir founders, and only when there had been added to the central\nmessage a great organized method of teaching it.\n\nThe essence of such an organization is the title to say with apostolic\ncertainty that the message is true. Churchmen, like Dr. Fosdick, can\nmake no such claim about their message. They reject revelation. They\nreject the authority of any church to speak directly for God. They\nreject the literal inspiration of the Bible. They reject altogether\nmany parts of the Bible as not only uninspired, but false and\nmisleading. They do not believe in God as a lawgiver, judge, father,\nand spectator of human life. [p047] When they say that this or that\nmessage in the Bible is \u201cpermanently valid,\u201d they mean only that in\ntheir judgment, according to their reading of human experience, it is\na well-tested truth. To say this is not merely to deny that the Bible\nis authoritative in astronomy and biology; it is to deny equally that\nit is authoritative as to what is good and bad for men. The Bible thus\nbecomes no more than a revered collection of hypotheses which each man\nmay reject or accept in the light of his own knowledge.\n\nThe lessons may still be true. But they are robbed of their certainty.\nEach man is thrown back upon his own resources; he is denied the\nsupport which all popular religion offers him, the conviction that\noutside himself there is a power on which he can and must lean for\nguidance. In the ancient faith a man said: \u201cI believe this on the\nauthority of an all-wise God.\u201d In the new faith he is in effect\ncompelled to say: \u201cI have examined the alleged pronouncements of an\nall-knowing God; some of them are obviously untrue, some are rather\nrepulsive, others, however, if they are properly restated, I find to be\nexceedingly good.\u201d\n\nSomething quite fundamental is left out of the modernist creeds. At\nleast something which has hitherto been quite fundamental is left\nout. That something is the most abiding of all the experiences of\nreligion, namely, the conviction that the religion comes from God.\nSuppose it were true, which it plainly is not, that Dr. Fosdick by his\nprocess of selection and decoding has retained \u201cprecisely the thing\nat which the Bible was driving.\u201d Still he would be without the thing\non which popular religion [p048] has been founded. For the Bible to\nour ancestors was not simply, as he implies, a book of wisdom. It was\na book of wisdom backed by the power of God himself. That is not an\ninconsiderable difference. It is all the difference there is between a\npious resolution and a moral law.\n\nThe Bible, as men formerly accepted it, contained wisdom _certified_\nby the powers that govern the universe. It did not merely contain many\nwell-tested truths, similar in kind to those which are to be found in\nPlato, Aristotle, Montaigne, and Bernard Shaw. It contained truths\nwhich could not be doubted because they had been spoken by God through\nhis prophets and his Son. They could not be wrong. But once it is\nallowed that each man may select from the Bible as he sees fit, judging\neach passage by his own notions of what is \u201cabiding,\u201d you have stripped\nthe Scriptures of their authority to command men\u2019s confidence and to\ncompel their obedience. The Scriptures may still inspire respect. But\nthey are disarmed.\n\n\n3. _What Modernism Leaves Out_\n\nMany reasons have been adduced to explain why people do not go to\nchurch as much as they once did. Surely the most important reason is\nthat they are not so certain that they are going to meet God when they\ngo to church. If they had that certainty they would go. If they really\nbelieved that they were being watched by a Supreme Being who is more\npowerful than all the kings of earth put together, if they really\nbelieved that not only their actions but their secret thoughts were\nknown and would be remembered by the creator and ultimate judge of the\n[p049] universe, there would be no complaint whatever about church\nattendance. The most worldly would be in the front pews, and preachers\nwould not have to resort so often to their rather desperate expedients\nto attract an audience. If the conviction were there that the creed\nprofessed was invincibly true, the modern congregation would not come\nto church, as they usually do to-day, to hear the preacher and to\nlisten to the music. They would come to worship God.\n\nReligious professions will not work when they rest merely on a kind of\npassive assent; or on intricate reasoning, or on fierce exhortation, or\non a good-natured conspiracy to be vague and highflown. A man cannot\ncheat about faith. Either he has it in the marrow of his bones, or in\na crisis, when he is distracted and in sorrow, there is no conviction\nthere to support him. Without complete certainty religion does not\noffer genuine consolation. It is without the strength to compensate\nour weakness. Nor can it sanction the rules of morality. Ethical codes\ncannot lay claim to unhesitating obedience when they are based upon the\nopinions of a majority, or on the notions of wise men, or on estimates\nof what is socially useful, or on an appeal to patriotism. For they\ndepend then on the force which happens to range itself behind them at a\nparticular time; or on their convenience for a moment. They are felt to\nbe the outcome of human, and therefore quite fallible, decisions. They\nare no necessary part of the government of the universe. They were not\ngiven by God to Moses on Sinai. They are not the commandments of God\nspeaking through his Infallible Church.\n\nA human morality has no such sanction as a divine. [p050] The\nsanction of a divine morality is the certainty of the believer that it\noriginated with God. But if he has once come to think that the rule of\nconduct has a purely human, local, and temporal origin, its sanction is\ngone. His obedience is transformed, as ours has been by knowledge of\nthat sort, from conviction to conformity or calculated expediency.\n\nWithout certainty there can be no profound sense that a man\u2019s own\npurpose has become part of the purpose of the whole creation. It\nis necessary to believe in a God who is active in the world before\na man can feel himself to be, as St. Paul said, \u201ca fellow laborer\u201d\nwith God. Yet this sense of partnership with a Person who transcends\nthe individual\u2019s own life, his own ego, and his own capacities, is\nfundamental in all popular religion. It underlies all the other\nelements of religion. For in the certainty that he is enlisted with\nGod, man finds not only comfort in defeat, not only an ideal of\nholiness which persuades him to renounce his immediate desires, but an\necstatic mobilizing of all his scattered energies in one triumphant\nsense of his own infinite importance.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV [p051]\n\nTHE ACIDS OF MODERNITY\n\n\n1. _The Kingly Pattern_\n\nWhat I have said thus far can be reduced to the statement that it is\ndifficult for modern men to conceive a God whom they can worship. Yet\nit would be a crude misunderstanding of religious experience to assume\nthat it depends upon a clear conception of God. In truly religious\nmen the experience of God is much more intensely convincing than any\ndefinition of his nature which they can put into words. They do not\ninsist on understanding that which they believe, for their belief\ngives them a consciousness of divinity which transcends any conviction\nthey could reach by the understanding. They are not oppressed by the\nconflict between reason and faith because the testimony of faith\nis irresistible. It may become so irresistible that any attempt to\nunderstand is finally held, as it was by John Chrysostom, to be an\nimpertinence.\n\nSt. Chrysostom, who is described by the _Catholic Encyclopedia_ as the\nmost prominent doctor of the Greek Church and the greatest preacher\never heard in a Christian pulpit, is a striking example of how in\nother ages a man who was both learned and devout was able to surmount\nthe intellectual difficulties which to-day cause so much trouble for\nmodernists and fundamentalists alike. Chrysostom was born at Antioch\nin the middle of the Fourth Century and grew up in a time when the\nintellectual [p052] foundations of Christianity were intensely\ndisputed. The Catholic theology had not yet emerged victoriously, and\nAntioch was the theatre of fierce struggles between Pagans, Manich\u00e6ans,\nGnostics, Arians, Jews, and others. These struggles turned in\nconsiderable measure upon just such attempts to define and comprehend\nGod as now confuse the teaching of the Protestant Church. Among the\nsectarians there were some who claimed that it was possible \u201cto know\nGod exactly\u201d and it was against them that Chrysostom preached that\n\u201che insults God who seeks to apprehend His essential being.\u201d For \u201cthe\ndifference between the being of God and the being of man is of such a\nkind that no word can express it and no thought can appraise it.... He\ndwells, says St. Paul, in an unapproachable light.\u201d Even the angels in\nheaven are stupefied by the glory and majesty of God: \u201cTell me,\u201d he\nsays, \u201cwherefore do they cover their faces and hide them with their\nwings? Why but that they cannot endure the dazzling radiance and its\nrays that pour from the Throne?\u201d\n\nHere in language so eloquent that the author became known as\nChrysostom, \u201cthe golden-mouthed,\u201d we have the doctrine that \u201ca\ncomprehended God is no God,\u201d that \u201cGod is incomprehensible because He\nis blessed and blessed because He is incomprehensible.\u201d But if we look\nmore closely at what Chrysostom actually says, it is apparent that he\nhas a much clearer idea of God than he knows. He conceives of God as\nthe creator, the ruler, and the judge of the universe. When he says\nthat God is incomprehensible he means that it is impossible for a human\nbeing to imagine what it would be like to be God. But [p053] that does\nnot prevent Chrysostom from knowing what it is like to be the creature\nof the incomprehensible God. He is very definitely on his knees before\nthe throne of a divine king whose radiance is so dazzling that he\ncannot look his Lord in the face.\n\nThere is thus a very solid intellectual conception embedded in the\nfaith of this great teacher who staked everything on the assertion that\nit is impossible to conceive God. The conception is there but it has\nnot been isolated and realized. It is unconsciously assumed. We find\nthe same thing in Luther when he said: \u201cI venture to put my trust in\nthe one God alone, the invisible and incomprehensible, who hath created\nHeaven and Earth and is alone above all creatures.\u201d For in spite of\nthe fact that Luther calls God incomprehensible, he is able to make a\nnumber of extremely important statements about him. He is able to say\nthat God is the only God, that he created the earth, that there is a\nheaven, that God created heaven, and that God alone is above all his\ncreatures. To know that much about God is to comprehend the function of\nGod if not his nature.\n\nNow if we examine the religious difficulty of modern men, we find,\nI think, that they do not lack the sense of mystery, of majesty, of\nterror, and of wonder which overwhelm Chrysostom and Luther. The\nemotional disposition is there. But it is somehow inhibited from\npossessing them utterly. The will to believe is checked by something\nin their experience which Chrysostom did not have. That something is\nthe sense that the testimony of faith is not wholly credible, that the\nfeeling of sanctity is no assurance of the existence of sacred powers,\nthat awe and [p054] wonder and terror in the breast of the believer\nare not guarantees that there exist real objects that are awful and\nwonderful. The modern man is not incapable of faith, but he has within\nhim a contrary passion, as instinctive and often as intense as faith,\nwhich makes incredible the testimony of his faith.\n\nIt is that contrary passion, and not the thin argumentation of atheists\nand agnostics, which lies, I think, at the root of what churchmen call\nmodern irreligion. It is that passion which they must understand if\nthey are ever to understand the modern religious difficulty. For just\nas men could surmount any intellectual difficulty when their passion to\nbelieve was whole-hearted, so to-day, when the passion to disbelieve\nis so strong, they are unable to believe no matter how perfectly their\ntheological dilemmas are resolved.\n\nWe must ask ourselves, then, what there is in modern men which makes\nthe testimony of faith seem more or less incredible to them. We have\nseen in the citations from Chrysostom and Luther that the testimony of\nfaith really contains a large number of unconscious statements of fact\nabout the universe and how it is governed. It is these statements of\nfact which we are no longer able to assume unconsciously, and having\nbecome conscious of them they are rather incredible. But why are they\nno longer unconsciously assumed and why are they incredible? The answer\nis, I think, that they have ceased to be consistent with our normal\nexperience in ordinary affairs.\n\nThe faith of Chrysostom and Luther is entangled with, and supported\nupon, the assumption that the universe [p055] was created and is\ngoverned by a father and king. They had projected upon the universe\nan imaginary picture which reflected their own daily experience of\ngovernment among men. These pictures of how the universe is governed\nchange with men\u2019s political experience. Thus it would not have been\neasy for an Asiatic people to imagine the divine government in any\nother way but as a despotism, and Yahveh, as he appears in many\nfamous portraits in the Old Testament, is very evidently an Oriental\nmonarch inclined to be somewhat moody and very vain. He governs as he\nchooses, constrained by no law, and often without mercy, justice, or\nrighteousness. The God of medi\u00e6val Christianity, on the other hand,\nis more like a great feudal lord, supreme and yet bound by covenants\nto treat his vassals on earth according to a well-established system\nof reciprocal rights and duties. The God of the Enlightenment in the\nEighteenth Century is a constitutional monarch who reigns but does not\ngovern. And the God of Modernism, who is variously pictured as the\n_\u00e9lan vital_ within the evolutionary process, or as the sum total of\nthe laws of nature, is really a kind of constitutionalism deified.\n\nProvided that the picture is so consistent with experience that it\nis taken utterly for granted, it will serve as a background for the\nreligious experience. But when daily experience for one reason or\nanother provides no credible analogy by which men can imagine that\nthe universe is governed by a supernatural king and father, then the\ndisposition to believe, however strong it may be at the roots, is like\na vine that reaches out and can find nothing solid upon which to grow.\nIt cannot support [p056] itself. If faith is to flourish, there must\nbe a conception of how the universe is governed to support it.\n\nIt is these supporting conceptions\u2014the unconscious assumption that\nwe are related to God as creatures to creator, as vassals to a king,\nas children to a father\u2014that the acids of modernity have eaten away.\nThe modern man\u2019s daily experience of modernity makes instinctively\nincredible to him these unconscious ideas which are at the core of the\ngreat traditional and popular religions. He does not wantonly reject\nbelief, as so many churchmen assert. His predicament is much more\nserious. With the best will in the world, he finds himself not quite\nbelieving.\n\nIn the last four hundred years many influences have conspired to make\nincredible the idea that the universe is governed by a kingly person.\nAn account of all of these influences would be a history of the growth\nof modern civilization. I am attempting nothing so comprehensive or\nso ambitious. I should like merely to note certain aspects of that\nrevolutionary change which, as Lord Acton says, came \u201cunheralded\u201d\nand \u201cfounded a new order of things ... sapping the ancient reign of\ncontinuity.\u201d For that new order of things has made it impossible for\nus to believe, as plainly and literally as our forefathers did, that\nthe universe is a monarchy administered on this planet through divinely\ncommissioned, and, therefore, unimpeachably authoritative ministers.\n\n\n2. _Landmarks_\n\nIn a famous passage at the beginning of _Heretics_, Mr. Chesterton\nsays that \u201cnothing more strangely indicates the enormous and silent\nevil of modern society than [p057] the extraordinary use which is\nmade nowadays of the word \u2018orthodox.\u2019 In former days the heretic was\nproud of not being a heretic. It was the kingdom of the world and the\npolice and the judges who were heretics. He was orthodox. All the\ntortures born out of forgotten hells could not make him admit that he\nwas heretical. But a few modern phrases have made him boast of it. He\nsays with a conscious laugh, \u2018I suppose I am very heretical,\u2019 and looks\naround for applause. The word \u2018heresy\u2019 not only means no longer being\nwrong; it practically means being clear-headed and courageous.\u201d\n\nMr. Chesterton goes on to explain that this change of attitude has come\nabout because \u201cpeople care less for whether they are philosophically\nright than they used to care.\u201d It may be so. But if they cared as much\nor more, it would not help them. To be orthodox is to believe in the\nright doctrines and to follow the ancient rules of living deduced from\na divine revelation. The modern man finds that the doctrines do not fit\nwhat he believes to be true, and that the rules do not show him how\nto conduct his life. For he is confronted at every turn with radical\nnovelties about which his inherited dogma teaches him something which\nis plainly unworkable, or, as is even more often the case, teaches him\nnothing at all.\n\nIn the old world there were, of course, novelties, too. But the pace\nof change was so slow that it did not seem to cause radical change.\nThere was ample time to make subtle and necessary revisions of the\nfundamental assumptions of right and wrong without seeming to challenge\nthe distinction between right and wrong. Looking back at it in long\nperspective we can see now that there was [p058] a constant evolution\nof the Christian faith from the Apostles to the later councils of the\nChurch. But in relation to the life of any individual the change was so\nslow that men could honestly believe that the Catholicism of Hildebrand\nwas identical with the Christianity of Paul. Men had few means of\nreconstructing the past, and few ways of knowing how great was the\nvariety of belief at any one time within the frontiers of Christendom.\nWithin their horizon, change came too slowly to seem like change,\nbecause only that seems to move which moves rather fast.\n\nFor that reason the large changes which took place were not vividly\nrealized. The small, quick changes, of which men were conscious, could\ntherefore easily be made to seem, especially since men were not too\nexact and observant, as inevitable deductions from unchanging premises.\nEven in the great arguments over the nature of Christ, the rights of\nChurch and Empire, the meaning of grace and transubstantiation, both\nsides appealed in theory to the same premises. Each side asserted that\nit was following the true revelation. And since ordinary men for the\nmost part never heard the other side, except from their own priests and\ndoctors, they had no reason for doubting that the side on which they\nhappened to find themselves was absolutely right. They did not have to\nchoose between competing creeds; they had merely to defend their creed,\nwhich was the true one, against the enemies of God. And so if they were\ndisturbed by the quarrel, they were not disturbed much by doubt.\n\nThe grand adjustments were taken for granted, and within that framework\nmen could make the minor adjustments patiently and elaborately, letting\nthem become [p059] habitual and well-worn. This, perhaps, is the\nsecret of the charm that an old civilization has for us to-day. We\nfeel that here is a way of life which men have had time to refine and\nto embellish. The modern man in a progressive community has neither\nthe time nor the energy for this delightful superficiality. He is\ntoo busy solving fundamental problems. He is so free to question his\npremises that he is no longer free to work out his conclusions. His\nphilosophy of life is like the skyscraper; it is nine-tenths structure.\nSo much effort has gone into constructing it, and making it fit to\nbear the strains, it is so new and yet it will so soon be out of\ndate, that nobody is much interested in the character of it. But a\nmedi\u00e6val cathedral, like the medi\u00e6val philosophy, was built slowly over\ngenerations and was to last forever; it is decorated inside and out,\nwhere it can be seen and where it cannot be seen, from the crypt to the\nroof.\n\nThe modern man is an emigrant who lives in a revolutionary society and\ninherits a protestant tradition. He must be guided by his conscience.\nBut when he searches his conscience, he finds no fixed point outside of\nit by which he can take his bearings. He does not really believe that\nthere is such a point, because he himself has moved about too fast to\nfix any point long enough in his mind. For the sense of authority is\nnot established by argument. It is acquired by deep familiarity and\nindurated association. The ancient authorities were blended with the\nancient landmarks, with fields and vineyards and patriarchal trees,\nwith ancient houses and chests full of heirlooms, with churchyards\nnear at hand and their ancestral graves, with old men who remembered\nwise sayings they [p060] had heard from wise old men. In that kind of\nsetting it is natural to believe that the great truths are known and\nthe big questions settled, and to feel that the dead themselves are\nstill alive and are watching over the ancient faith.\n\nBut when creeds have to be proved to the doubting they are already\nblighted; arguments are for the unbelievers and the wavering, for\nthose who have never had, and for those who have lost these primordial\nattachments. Faith is not a formula which is agreed to if the weight\nof evidence favors it. It is a posture of man\u2019s whole being which\npredisposes him to assimilate, not merely to believe, his creed.\nWhen the posture is native to him, in tune with the rhythm of his\nsurroundings, his faith is not dependent upon intellectual assent. It\nis a serene and whole-hearted absorption, like that of the infant to\nits mother, in the great powers outside which govern his world. When\nthat union of feeling is no longer there, as it is not there for a\nlarge part of our talkative fundamentalist sects, we may be sure that\ncorrosive doubting has begun. The unlovely quality of much modern\nreligiosity is due to these doubts. So much of its belief is synthetic.\nIt is forced, made, insisted upon, because it is no longer simple and\ninevitable. The angry absurdities which the fundamentalists propound\nagainst \u201cevolution\u201d are not often due to their confidence in the\ninspiration of the Bible. They are due to lack of confidence, to doubt\nresisted like an annoying tune which a man cannot shake out of his\nhead. For if the militant fundamentalists were utterly sure they are\nright, they would exhibit some of that composure which the truly devout\ndisplay. Did they [p061] really trust their God, they would trust\nlaws, politicians, and policemen less. But because their whole field of\nconsciousness is trembling with uncertainties they are in a state of\nfret and fuss; and their preaching is frousy, like the seductions of an\nold coquette.\n\n\n3. _Barren Ground_\n\nThe American people, more than any other people, is composed of\nindividuals who have lost association with their old landmarks. They\nhave crossed an ocean, they have spread themselves across a new\ncontinent. The American who still lives in his grandfather\u2019s house\nfeels almost as if he were living in a museum. There are few Americans\nwho have not moved at least once since their childhood, and even if\nthey have staid where they were born, the old landmarks themselves\nhave been carted away to make room for progress. That, perhaps, is one\nreason why we have so much more Americanism than love of America. It\ntakes time to learn to love the new gas station which stands where the\nwild honeysuckle grew. Moreover, the great majority of Americans have\nrisen in the world. They have moved out of their class, lifting the\nold folks along with them perhaps, so that together they may sit by\nthe steam pipes, and listen to the crooning of the radio. But more and\nmore of them have moved not only out of their class, but out of their\nculture; and then they leave the old folks behind, and the continuity\nof life is broken. For faith grows well only as it is passed on from\nparents to their children amidst surroundings that bear witness,\nbecause nothing changes radically, to a deep permanence in the order of\nthe world. It is true, [p062] no doubt, that in this great physical\nand psychic migration some of the old household gods are carefully\npacked up and put with the rest of the luggage, and then unpacked and\nset up on new altars in new places. But what can be taken along is at\nbest no more than the tree which is above the ground. The roots remain\nin the soil where first they grew.\n\nThe sidewalks of a city would in any case be a stony soil in which to\ntransplant religion. Throughout history, as Spengler points out, the\nlarge city has bred heresies, new cults, and irreligion. Now when we\nspeak of modern civilization we mean a civilization dominated by the\nculture of the great metropolitan centers. Our own civilization in\nAmerica is perhaps the most completely urbanized of all. For even the\nAmerican farmers, though they live in the country, tend to be suburban\nrather than rural. I am aware of how dominating a role the population\noutside the great cities plays in American life. Yet it is in the\nlarge cities that the tempo of our civilization is determined, and the\ntendency of mechanical inventions as well as economic policy is to\ncreate an irresistible suction of the country towards the city.\n\nThe deep and abiding traditions of religion belong to the countryside.\nFor it is there that man earns his daily bread by submitting to\nsuperhuman forces whose behavior he can only partially control. There\nis not much he can do when he has ploughed the ground and planted his\nseed except to wait hopefully for sun and rain from the sky. He is\nobviously part of a scheme that is greater than himself, subject to\nelements that transcend his powers and surpass his understanding. The\ncity is an acid that dissolves [p063] this piety. How different it is\nfrom an ancient vineyard where men cultivate what their fathers have\nplanted. In a modern city it is not easy to maintain that \u201creverent\nattachment to the sources of his being and the steadying of his life by\nthat attachment.\u201d It is not natural to form reverent attachments to an\napartment on a two-year lease, and an imitation mahogany desk on the\nthirty-second floor of an office building. In such an environment piety\nbecomes absurd, a butt for the facetious, and the pious man looks like\na picturesque yokel or a stuffy fool.\n\nYet without piety, without a patriotism of family and place, without\nan almost plant-like implication in unchangeable surroundings, there\ncan be no disposition to believe in an external order of things. The\nomnipotence of God means something to men who submit daily to the\ncycles of the weather and the mysterious power of nature. But the city\nman puts his faith in furnaces to keep out the cold, is proudly aware\nof what bad sewage his ancestors endured, and of how ignorantly they\nbelieved that God, who made Adam at 9 A.M. on October 23 in the year\n4004 B.C., was concerned with the behavior of Adam\u2019s children.\n\n\n4. _Sophisticated Violence_\n\nMuch effort goes into finding substitutes for this radical loss of\nassociation. There is the Americanization movement, for example,\nwhich in some of its public manifestations has as much resemblance to\npatriotism as the rape of the Sabine women had to the love of Dante\nfor Beatrice. There is the vociferous nationalism of the [p064]\nhundred percenters which is always most eloquent when it is about to\nbe most rowdy. There are the anxious outcries of the sectarians who\nin their efforts to revive the religion of their fathers show the\nutmost contempt for the aspirations of their sons. There is Mr. Henry\nFord hastily collecting American antiques before his cars destroy\nthe whole culture which produced them. There is Mr. Lothrop Stoddard\nlooking every man in the eye to see whether it is Nordic blue. There\nare a thousand and one patently artificial, sometimes earnest, often\nfantastic fundamentalist agitations. They are all attempts to impose\nquickly by one kind of sophisticated violence or another a posture of\nfaith which can be genuine only when it belongs to the unquestioned\nmemories of the soul. They are a shrill insistence that men ought to\nfeel that which no man can feel who does not already feel it in the\nmarrow of his bones.\n\nNovelties crowd the consciousness of modern men. The machinery of\nintelligence, the press, the radio, the moving picture, have enormously\nmultiplied the number of unseen events and strange people and queer\ndoings with which he has to be concerned. They compel him to pay\nattention to facts that are detached from their backgrounds, their\ncauses and their consequences, and are only half known because they are\nnot seen or touched or actually heard. These experiences come to him\nhaving no beginning, no middle, and no end, mere flashes of publicity\nplaying fitfully upon a dark tangle of circumstances. I pick up a\nnewspaper at the start of the day and I am depressed and rejoiced to\nlearn that: anthracite miners have struck in Pennsylvania; that a price\nboost [p065] plot is charged; that Mr. Ziegfeld has imported a blonde\nfrom England who weighs 112 pounds and has pretty legs; that the Pope,\non the other hand, has refused to receive women in low-necked dress and\nwith their arms bare; that airplanes are flying to Hawaii; and that the\nMayor says that the would-be Mayor is a liar....\n\nNow in an ordered universe there ought to be place for all human\nexperiences. But it is not strange that the modern newspaper reader\nfinds it increasingly difficult to believe that through it all there is\norder, permanence, and connecting principle. Such experience as comes\nto him from the outside is a dissonance composed of a thousand noises.\nAnd amidst these noises he has for inner guidance only a conscience\nwhich consists, as he half suspects, of the confused echoes of earlier\ntunes.\n\n\n5. _Rulers_\n\nHe cannot look to his betters for guidance. The American social system\nis migratory, revolutionary, and protestant. It provides no recognized\nleaders and no clear standards of conduct. No one is recognized as the\ninterpreter of morals and the arbiter of taste. There is no social\nhierarchy, there is no acknowledged ruling class, no well-known system\nof rights and duties, no code of manners. There are smart sets, first\nfamilies, and successful people, to whom a good deal of deference is\npaid and a certain tribute of imitation. But these leaders have no real\nauthority in morals or in matters of taste because they themselves have\nfew standards that are not the fashions of a season. They exercise,\ntherefore, an almost autocratic power over deportment at the country\nclub. [p066] But what they believe about God, salvation, or the\ndestiny of America nobody knows, not even they themselves.\n\nThere have been perhaps three ruling classes in America, the Puritan\nmerchants, the Knickerbocker gentry, and the Cavalier planters of\nthe South. Each presided for a few generations over an ordered\ncivilization. But the New Englanders uprooted themselves and went west,\nand those who have been left behind are marooned in a flood of aliens.\nThe Knickerbocker squirearchy dissolved in the commercial greatness of\nNew York, and the southern aristocracy was overthrown and ruined by a\nsocial revolution which culminated in the Civil War. They have left no\nsuccessors, and unless and until American society becomes stabilized\nonce more somewhere for a few generations, they are not likely to have\nany successors.\n\nOur rulers to-day consist of random collections of successful men and\ntheir wives. They are to be found in the inner circles of banks and\ncorporations, in the best clubs, in the dominant cliques of trade\nunions, among the political churchmen, the higher manipulating bosses,\nthe leading professional Catholics, Baptists, Methodists, Irish,\nGermans, Jews, and the grand panjandrums of the secret societies.\nThey give orders. They have to be consulted. They can more or less\neffectively speak for, and lead some part of, the population. But none\nof them is seated on a certain throne, and all of them are forever\nconcerned as to how they may keep from being toppled off. They do not\nknow how they happen to be where they are, although they often explain\nwhat are the secrets of success. They have been educated to achieve\nsuccess; few of them have been educated to exercise power. Nor [p067]\ndo they count with any confidence upon retaining their power, nor of\nhanding it on to their sons. They live, therefore, from day to day, and\nthey govern by ear. Their impromptu statements of policy may be obeyed,\nbut nobody seriously regards them as having authority.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V [p068]\n\nTHE BREAKDOWN OF AUTHORITY\n\n\n1. _God\u2019s Government_\n\nThe dissolution of the ancestral order is still under way, and much\nof our current controversy is between those who hope to stay the\ndissolution and those who would like to hasten it. The prime fact about\nmodernity, as it presents itself to us, is that it not merely denies\nthe central ideas of our forefathers but dissolves the disposition to\nbelieve in them. The ancestral tradition still lives in many corners of\nthe world. But it no longer represents for us, as it did for Dante and\nfor St. Thomas Aquinas seven hundred years ago, the triumphant wisdom\nof the age. A child born in a modern city may still learn to use the\nimages of the theological drama, but more or less consciously he is\nmade to feel that in using them he is not speaking of things that are\nliterally and exactly true.\n\nIts dogma, as Mr. Santayana once said, is insensibly understood to\nbe nothing but myth, its miracles nothing but legend, its sacraments\nmere symbols, its bible pure literature, its liturgy just poetry, its\nhierarchy an administrative convenience, its ethics an historical\naccident, and its whole function simply to lend a warm mystical aureole\nto human culture and ignorance. The modern man does not take his\nreligion as a real account of the constitution, the government, the\nhistory, and the actual destiny of the [p069] universe. With rare\nexceptions his ancestors did. They believed that all their activities\non this earth had a sequel in other activities hereafter, and that\nthey themselves in their own persons would be alive through all the\nstretches of infinite time to experience this fulfilment. The sense of\nactuality has gone out of this tremendous conception of life; only the\nechoes of it persist, and in our memories they create a world apart\nfrom the world in which we do our work, a noble world perhaps in which\nit is refreshing to dwell now and then, and in anxiety to take refuge.\nBut the spaces between the stars are so great; the earth is now so\nsmall a planet in the skies; man is so close, as St. Francis said, to\nhis brother the ass, that in the daylight he does not believe that a\ngreat cosmic story is being unfolded of which his every thought and act\nis a significant part. The universe may have a conscious purpose, but\nhe does not believe he knows just what it is; humanity may be acting\nout a divine drama, but he is not certain that he knows the plot.\n\nThere has gone out of modern life a working conviction that we are\nliving under the dominion of one supreme ideal, the attainment of\neternal happiness by obedience to God\u2019s will on earth. This conviction\nfound its most perfect expression in the period which begins with St.\nAugustine\u2019s _City of God_ and culminates in the _Divine Comedy_ of\nDante. But the underlying intuitions are to be found in nearly all\npopular religion; they are the creature\u2019s feeling of dependence upon\nhis creator, a sense that his destiny is fixed by a being greater than\nhimself. At the bottom of it there is a conviction that the universe\nis governed by superhuman persons, that the daily visible [p070]\nlife of the world is constitutionally subject to the laws and the\nwill of an invisible government. What the thinkers of the Middle Ages\ndid was to work out in elaborate detail and in grandiose style the\nconstitutional system under which supernatural government operates. It\nis not fanciful, and I hope not irreverent, to suggest that the great\ndebates about the nature of the Trinity and the Godhead were attempts\nto work out a theory of divine sovereignty; that the debates about\nelection and predestination and grace are attempts to work out a theory\nof citizenship in a divine society. The essential idea which dominates\nthe whole speculation is man\u2019s relation to a heavenly king.\n\nAs this idea was finally worked out by the legists and canonists and\nscholastics\n\n every ordering of a human community must appear as a component part\n of that ordering of the world which exists because God exists,\n and every earthly group must appear as an organic member of that\n _Civitas Dei_, that God-State, which comprehends the heavens and\n the earth. Then, on the other hand, the eternal and other-worldly\n aim and object of every individual man must, in a directer or an\n indirecter fashion, determine the aim and object of every group\n into which he enters.\n\n But as there must, of necessity, be connection between the various\n groups, and as all of them must be connected with the divinely\n ordered Universe, we come by the further notion of a divinely\n instituted Harmony which pervades the Universal Whole and every\n part thereof. To every Being is assigned its place in that whole,\n and to every link between Beings corresponds a divine decree....\n\nThere is no need to suppose that everyone in the Middle Ages\nunderstood the theory, as Gierke describes it here, [p071] in all its\narchitectural grandeur. Nevertheless, the theory is implicit in the\nfeeling of simple men. It is the logical elaboration of the fundamental\nbelief that the God who governs the world is no mere abstraction made\nup of hazy nouns and a vague adoration, but that, as Henry Adams says,\nhe is the feudal seigneur to whom Roland, when he was dying, could\nproffer \u201chis right-hand glove\u201d as a last act of homage, such as he\nmight have made to Charlemagne, and could pray:\n\n O God the Father who has never lied,\n Who raised up Saint Lazarus from death,\n And Daniel from the lions saved,\n Save my soul from all the perils\n For the sins that in my life I did!\n\n\n2. _The Doctrine of the Keys_\n\nThe theory of divine government has always presented some difficulties\nto human reason, as we can see even in St. Augustine, who never clearly\nmade up his mind whether the City of God was the actual church presided\nover by the Bishop of Rome or whether it was an ideal and invisible\ncongregation of the saved. But we may be sure that to plainer minds it\nwas necessary to believe that God governs mankind through the agency\nof the visible church. The unsophisticated man may not be realistic,\nbut he is literal; he would be quite incapable, we may be sure, of\nunderstanding what St. Thomas meant when he asked \u201cwhy should not the\nsame sacred letter ... contain several senses founded on the literal?\u201d\nHe would accept all the senses but he would accept them all literally.\nAnd taking them literally he would have to believe that [p072] if God\ngoverns the world, he governs it, not in some obscure meaning of the\nterm, but that he actually governs it, as a king who is mightier than\nCharlemagne, but not essentially unlike Charlemagne.\n\nThe disposition to believe in the rule of God depended, therefore, upon\nthe capacity to believe in a visible church upon earth which holds its\ncommission from God. In some form or another all simple people look\nto a priestly caste who make visible the divine power. Without some\nsuch actualization the human imagination falters and becomes vagrant.\nThe Catholic Church by its splendor and its power and its universality\nduring the Middle Ages must have made easily credible the conception\nof God the Ruler. It was a government exercising jurisdiction over\nthe known world, powerful enough to depose princes, and at its head\nwas the Pope who could prove by the evidence of scripture that he was\nthe successor to Peter and was the Vice-gerent of God. To ask whether\nthis grandiose claim was in fact true is, from the point of view of\nthis argument, to miss the point. It was believed to be true in the\nMiddle Ages. Because it was believed, the Church flourished. Because\nthe Church flourished, it was ever so much easier to be certain that\nthe claim was true. When men said that God ruled the world, they had\nevidence as convincing as we have when we say that the President is\nhead of the United States Government; they were convinced because they\ncame into daily contact with God\u2019s appointees administering God\u2019s laws.\n\nIt is this concrete sense of divine government which modern men have\nlost, and it may well be that this is where the Reformation has\nexercised its most revolutionary [p073] effect. What Luther did was\nto destroy the pretensions not only of the Roman Catholic Church, but\nof any church and of any priestly class to administer God\u2019s government\non earth. The Protestant reformers may not have intended to destroy\nas deeply as they did; the theocracies established by Calvin and Knox\nimply as much. But, nevertheless, when Luther succeeded in defying the\nHoly See by rejecting its claim that it was the exclusive agent of God,\nhe made it impossible for any other church to set up the same claim and\nsustain it for any length of time.\n\n Now Christ says that not alone in the Church is there forgiveness\n of sins, but that where two or three are gathered together in His\n name, they shall have the right and the liberty to proclaim and\n promise to each other comfort and the forgiveness of sins.... We\n are not only kings and the freest of all men, but also priests\n forever, a dignity far higher than kingship, because by that\n priesthood we are worthy to appear before God, to pray for others,\n and to teach one another mutually the things which are of God.\n\nThis denial of the special function of the priesthood did not, of\ncourse, originate with Luther. Its historical antecedents go back to\nthe primitive Christians; there is quotable authority for it in St.\nAugustine. It was anticipated by Wyclif and Huss and by many of the\nmystics of the Middle Ages. But Luther, possibly because the times were\nripe for it, translated the denial of the authority of the priesthood\ninto a political revolution which divided Christendom. When the\nReformation was an accomplished fact, men looked out upon the world\nand no longer saw a single Catholic Apostolic Church as the visible\nembodiment of God\u2019s government. A large part of [p074] mankind, and\nthat an economically and politically powerful part, no longer believed\nthat Christ gave to Simon Peter and his successors at the Roman See the\nKeys of the Kingdom of Heaven with the promise that \u201cwhatsoever thou\nshalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt\nloose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.\u201d\n\n\n3. _The Logic of Toleration_\n\nAs a result of the great religious wars the governing classes were\nforced to realize that unless they consented to the policy of\ntoleration they would be ruined. There is no reason to suppose that\nexcept among a few idealists toleration has ever been much admired\nas a principle. It was originally, and in large measure it still is,\nnothing but a practical necessity. For in its interior life no church\ncan wholly admit that its rivals may provide an equally good vehicle of\nsalvation.\n\nMartin Luther certainly had none of the modern notion that one church\nis about as good as the next. To be sure he appealed to the right\nof private judgment, but he made it plain nevertheless that in his\nopinion \u201cpagans or Turks or Jews or fake Christians\u201d would \u201cremain\nunder eternal wrath and an everlasting damnation.\u201d John Calvin let\nit be known in no uncertain tone that he did not wish any new sects\nin Geneva. Milton, writing his beautiful essay on liberty, drew the\nline at Papists. And in our own day the _Catholic Encyclopedia_ says\nin the course of an eloquent argument for practical civic toleration\nthat \u201cas the true God can tolerate no strange gods, the true Church\nof Christ can tolerate no strange churches beside herself, [p075]\nor, what amounts to the same, she can recognize none as theoretically\njustified.\u201d This is the ancient dogma that outside the church there is\nno salvation\u2014_extra ecclesiam nulla salus_. Like many another dogma\nof the Roman church, it is not even in theory absolutely unbending.\nThus it appears from the allocution of Pope Pius IX, _Singulari quadam_\n(1854), that \u201cthose who are ignorant of the true religion, if their\nignorance is invincible (which means, if they have never had a chance\nto know the true religion) are not, in this matter, guilty of any fault\nin the sight of God.\u201d\n\nAs a consequence of the modern theory of religious freedom the\nchurches find themselves in an anomalous position. Inwardly, to\ntheir communicants, they continue to assert that they possess the\nonly complete version of the truth. But outwardly, in their civic\nrelations with other churches and with the civil power, they preach\nand practice toleration. The separation of church and state involves\nmore than a mere logical difficulty for the churchman. It involves a\ndeep psychological difficulty for the members of the congregation.\nAs communicants they are expected to believe without reservation\nthat their church is the only true means of salvation; otherwise the\nmultitude of separate sects would be meaningless. But as citizens\nthey are expected to maintain a neutral indifference to the claims of\nall the sects, and to resist encroachments by any one sect upon the\nreligious practices of the others. This is the best compromise which\nhuman wisdom has as yet devised, but it has one inevitable consequence\nwhich the superficial advocates of toleration often overlook. It is\ndifficult to remain warmly convinced that the authority [p076] of any\none sect is divine, when as a matter of daily experience all sects have\nto be treated alike.\n\nThe human soul is not so divided in compartments that a man can be\nindifferent in one part of his soul and firmly believing in another.\nThe existence of rival sects, the visible demonstration that none has\na monopoly, the habit of neutrality, cannot but dispose men against an\nunquestioning acceptance of the authority of one sect. So many faiths,\nso many loyalties, are offered to the modern man that at last none\nseems to him wholly inevitable and fixed in the order of the universe.\nThe existence of many churches in one community weakens the foundation\nof all of them. And that is why every church in the heyday of its power\nproclaims itself to be catholic and intolerant.\n\nBut when there are many churches in the same community, none can make\nwholly good the claim that it is catholic. None has that power to\ndiscipline the individual which a universal church exercises. For, as\nDr. Figgis puts it, when many churches are tolerated, \u201cexcommunication\nhas ceased to be tyrannical by becoming futile.\u201d\n\n\n4. _A Working Compromise_\n\nIf the rival churches were not compelled to tolerate each other, they\ncould not, consistently with their own teaching, accept the prevailing\ntheory of the public school. Under that theory the schools are silent\nabout matters of faith, and teachers are supposed to be neutral on the\nissues of history and science which bear upon religion. The churches\npermit this because they cannot agree on the dogma they would wish to\nhave taught. The Catholics would rather have no dogma in the schools\nthan [p077] Protestant dogma; the fundamentalists would rather have\nnone than have modernist. This situation is held to be a good one. But\nthat is only because all the alternatives are so much worse. No church\ncan sincerely subscribe to the theory that questions of faith do not\nenter into the education of children.\n\nWherever churches are rich enough to establish their own schools, or\npowerful enough to control the public school, they make short work\nof the \u201cgodless\u201d school. Either they establish religious schools of\ntheir own, as the Catholics and Lutherans have done, or they impose\ntheir views on the public schools as the fundamentalists have done\nwherever they have the necessary voting strength. The last fight of\nMr. Bryan\u2019s life was made on behalf of the theory that if a majority\nof voters in Tennessee were fundamentalists then they had the right\nto make public education in Tennessee fundamentalist too. One of the\nstanding grievances of the Catholic Church in America is that Catholics\nare taxed to support schools to which they cannot conscientiously send\ntheir children.\n\nAs a matter of fact non-sectarianism is a useful political phrase\nrather than an accurate description of what goes on in the schools. If\nthere is teaching of science, that teaching is by implication almost\nalways agnostic. The fundamentalists point this out, and they are quite\nright. The teaching of history, under a so-called non-sectarian policy,\nis usually, in this country, a rather diluted Protestant version of\nhistory. The Catholics are quite right when they point this out.\nOccasionally, it may be, a teacher of science appears who has managed\nto assimilate his science to his theology; now and then a Catholic\nhistory teacher [p078] will depart from the standard textbooks to give\nthe Catholic version of disputed events during the last few hundred\nyears. But the chief effect of the non-sectarian policy is to weaken\nsectarian attachment, to wean the child from the faith of his fathers\nby making him feel that patriotism somehow demands that he shall not\npress his convictions too far, that commonsense and good fellowship\nmean that he must not be too absolute. The leaders of the churches\nare aware of this peril. Every once in a while they make an effort\nto combat it. Committees composed of parsons, priests, and rabbis\nappear before the school boards and petition that a non-sectarian\nGod be worshipped and the non-controversial passages of the Bible be\nread. They always agree that the present godless system of education\ndiminishes the sanctions of morality and the attendance at their\nrespective churches. But they disagree when they try to agree on the\nnature of a neutral God, and they have been known to dispute fiercely\nabout a non-controversial text of the Ten Commandments. So, if the\nsects are evenly balanced, the practical sense of the community turns\nin the end against the reform.\n\n\n5. _The Effect of Patriotism_\n\nModern governments are not merely neutral as between rival churches.\nThey draw to themselves much of the loyalty which once was given to the\nchurches. In fact it has been said with some truth that patriotism has\nmany of the characteristics of an authoritative religion. Certainly\nit is true that during the last few hundred years there has been\ntransferred to government a considerable [p079] part of the devotion\nwhich once sustained the churches.\n\nIn the older world the priest was a divinely commissioned agent and\nthe prince a divinely tolerated power. But by the Sixteenth Century\nMelanchthon, a friend of Luther\u2019s, had denied that the church could\nmake laws binding the conscience. Only the prince, he said, could do\nthat. Out of this view developed the much misunderstood but essentially\nmodern doctrine of the divine right of kings. In its original historic\nsetting this doctrine was a way of asserting that the civil authority,\nembodied in the king, derived its power not from the Pope, as God\u2019s\nviceroy on earth, but by direct appointment from God himself. The\ndivine right of kings was a declaration of independence as against\nthe authority of the church. This heresy was challenged not only by\nthe Pope, but by the Presbyterians as well. And it was to combat\nthe Presbyterian preachers who insisted on trying to dictate to the\ngovernment that King James I wrote his _True Law of Free Monarchy_,\nasserting the whole doctrine of the Divine Right of Kings.\n\nIn the Religious Peace of Augsburg an even more destructive blow was\nstruck at the ancient claim of the church that it is a universal power.\nIt was agreed that the citizen of a state must adopt the religion of\nhis king. _Cuius regio ejus religio._ This was not religious liberty as\nwe understand it, but it was a supreme assertion of the civil power.\nWhere once the church had administered religion for the multitude, and\nhad exercised the right to depose an heretical king, it now became\nthe prerogative [p080] of the king to determine the religious duties\nof his subjects. The way was open for the modern absolute state, a\nconception which would have been entirely incomprehensible to men who\nlived in the ages of faith.\n\nWe must here avoid using words ambiguously. When I speak of the\nabsolute state, I do not refer to the constitutional arrangement of\npowers within the state. It is of no importance in this connection\nwhether the absolute power of the state is exercised by a king,\na landed aristocracy, bankers and manufacturers, professional\npoliticians, soldiers, or a random majority of voters. It does not\nmatter whether the right to govern is hereditary or obtained with the\nconsent of the governed. A state is absolute in the sense which I\nhave in mind when it claims the right to a monopoly of all the force\nwithin the community, to make war, to make peace, to conscript life,\nto tax, to establish and disestablish property, to define crime, to\npunish disobedience, to control education, to supervise the family,\nto regulate personal habits, and to censor opinions. The modern state\nclaims all these powers, and in the matter of theory there is no real\ndifference in the size of the claim between communists, fascists, and\ndemocrats. There are lingering traces in the American constitutional\nsystem of the older theory that there are inalienable rights which\ngovernment may not absorb. But these rights are really not inalienable\nbecause they can be taken away by constitutional amendment. There\nis no theoretical limit upon the power of the ultimate majorities\nwhich create civil government. There are only practical limits. They\nare restrained by inertia, and by prudence, even by good will. But\nultimately [p081] and theoretically they claim absolute authority as\nagainst all foreign states, as against all churches, associations, and\npersons within their jurisdiction.\n\nThe victory of the civil power was not achieved everywhere at the same\ntime. Spasmodically, with occasional setbacks, but in the long run\nirresistibly, the state has attained supremacy. In the feudal age the\nmonarch was at no time sovereign. The Pope was the universal lawgiver,\nnot only in what we should call matters of faith, but in matters\nof business and politics as well. As late as the beginning of the\nSeventeenth Century, Pope Paul V insisted that the Doge of the Venetian\nRepublic had no right to arrest a canon of the church on the charge of\nflagrant immorality. When, nevertheless, the canon was arrested, the\nPope laid Venice under an interdict and excommunicated the Doge and the\nSenate. But the Venetian Government answered that it was founded on\nDivine Right; its title to govern did not come from the church. In the\nend the Pope gave way, and \u201cthe reign of the Pope,\u201d says Dr. Figgis,\n\u201cas King of Kings was over.\u201d\n\nIt was as a result of the loss of its civil power that the Roman Church\nevolved the modern doctrine of infallibility. This claim, as Dr. Figgis\npoints out, is not the culmination but the (implicit) surrender of\nthe notions embodied in the famous papal bull, _Unam Sanctam_. The\nPope could no longer claim the political sovereignty of the world; he\nthen asserted supreme rights as the religious teacher of the Catholic\ncommunion. \u201cThe Pope, from being the Lord of Lords, has become the\nDoctor of Doctors. From being the mother of states, the Curia [p082]\nhas become the authoritative organ of a teaching society.\u201d\n\n\n6. _The Dissolution of a Sovereignty_\n\nThus there has gradually been dissolving the conception that the\ngovernment of human affairs is a subordinate part of a divine\ngovernment presided over by God the King. In place of one church which\nis sovereign over all men, there are now many rival churches, rival\nstates, voluntary associations, and detached individuals. God is no\nlonger believed to be a universal king in the full meaning of the\nword king, and religious obedience is no longer the central loyalty\nfrom which all other obligations are derived. Religion has become\nfor most modern men one phase in a varied experience; it no longer\nregulates their civic duties, their economic activities, their family\nlife, and their opinions. It has ceased to have universal dominion,\nand is now held to be supreme only within its own domain. But there\nis much uncertainty as to what that domain is. In actual affairs,\nthe religious obligations of modern men are often weaker than their\nsocial interests and generally weaker than the fiercer claims of\npatriotism. The conduct of the churches and of churchmen during the\nWar demonstrated that fact overwhelmingly. They submitted willingly or\nunwillingly to the overwhelming force of the civil power. Against this\nforce many men claim the right of revolution, or at least the right of\npassive resistance and conscientious objection. Sometimes they base\ntheir claims upon a religious precept which they hold sacred. But even\nin their disobedience to Caesar they are forced to acknowledge that\nloyalty in the modern world is complex, that it has become [p083]\ndivided and uncertain, and that the age of faith which was absolute\nis gone for them. However reverent they may be when they are in their\nchurches, they no longer feel wholly assured when they listen to the\nteaching that these are the words of the ministers of a heavenly king.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI [p084]\n\nLOST PROVINCES\n\n\n1. _Business_\n\nIn any scheme of things where the churches, as agents of God, assert\nthe right to speak with authority about the conduct of life they should\nbe able to lay down rules about the way business shall be carried on.\nThe churches once did just that. In some degree they still attempt to\ndo it. But the attempts have grown feebler and feebler. In the last\nsix hundred years the churches have fought a losing battle against the\nemancipation of business from religious control.\n\nThe early Christian writers looked upon business as a peril to the\nsoul. Although the church was in itself, among other things, a large\nbusiness corporation, they did not countenance business enterprise.\nMoney-making they called avarice and money-lending usury, just as they\nspoke of lust when they meant sexual desire. They had sound reasons of\ntheir own for this attitude. They knew from observation, perhaps even\nfrom introspection, that the desire for riches is so strong a passion\nthat men possessed by it will devote only their odd moments to God. The\nobjection to a business career was like the objection to fornication;\nit diverted the energies of the soul.\n\nThere were, no doubt, worldly reasons as well which account for the\nlong resistance of the medi\u00e6val Church [p085] to what we now regard\nas the highest form of capitalistic endeavor. The Church belonged to\nthe feudal system. The Pope and his bishops were in fact great feudal\nlords. They thrived best in a social order where men lived upon the\nland. They had a premonition that the rise of capitalism, with its\nlarge cities, its financiers, merchants, and proletarian workers, was\nbound to weaken the secular authority of the church and to dissolve the\ninfluence of religion in men\u2019s lives. They failed in their resistance,\nbut surely one can hardly say that their vision was not prophetic.\nThe drastic legislation of the church against business was enacted\nin the early days of capitalism; it was inspired, like the English\ncorn laws and many another agrarian measure, by a determination to\npreserve a landed order of society. Thus in discussing whether money\nmight properly be loaned out at interest Pope Innocent IV argued that\nif this were permitted \u201cmen would not give thought to the cultivation\nof their land, except when they could do naught else ... even if they\ncould get land to cultivate, they would not be able to get the beasts\nand implements for cultivating it, since the poor themselves would not\nhave them, and the rich, both for the sake of profit and security,\nwould put their money into usury rather than into smaller and more\nrisky investments.\u201d The argument is the same as that which the American\nfarmer makes when he complains that the bankers in Wall Street prefer\nto lend money to business men and to speculators rather than to farmers.\n\nBut the solid reasons which once inspired the church\u2019s opposition to\nbusiness do not concern us here. The opposition was unsuccessful, the\nreasons were forgotten, and [p086] the old pronouncements against\nusury were looked upon as quaint and unworldly. For the new economic\norder which displaced feudalism, the Catholic Church, at least, had no\nprogram. It did not adapt itself readily to the spirit of commercial\nenterprise which captured the active minds of Northern Europe. The\nProtestant churches did adapt themselves and contrived to preach a\ngospel which encouraged, where Roman Catholicism had discouraged, the\nenterprising business man. They preached the divine duty of labor. \u201cAt\nthe day of doom,\u201d said John Bunyan, \u201cmen shall be judged according to\ntheir fruits. It will not be said then, Did you Believe? But, were you\nDoers, or Talkers only?\u201d As this preaching became more concrete, to\nbe a doer meant to do work and make money. Baxter in his _Christian\nDirectory_ wrote that \u201cif God show you a way in which you may lawfully\nget more than in another way (without wrong to your soul or to any\nother), if you refuse this, and choose the less gainful way, you cross\none of the ends of your calling, and you refuse to be God\u2019s steward.\u201d\nRichard Steele in _The Tradesman\u2019s Calling_ pointed out that the\nvirtues enjoined on Christians\u2014diligence, moderation, sobriety, and\nthrift\u2014are the very qualities which are most needed for commercial\nsuccess. For \u201cgodly wisdom ... comes in and puts due bounds\u201d to his\nexpenses, \u201cand teaches the tradesman to live rather somewhat below than\nat all above his income.\u201d\n\nHowever edifying such doctrine may have been, it was clearly an\nabandonment of the right, once so eloquently asserted by the church,\nthat it had the authority to regulate business in the interest of man\u2019s\nspiritual welfare. That right is still sometimes asserted. Sermons are\nstill [p087] preached about business ethics; there are programs of\nChristian socialism and Christian capitalism. Churchmen still interest\nthemselves, often very effectively, to reform some flagrant industrial\nabuse like the sweating of women and children. But the modern efforts\nto moralize business and to subordinate profit-seeking to humane ends\nare radically different from those of the medi\u00e6val church. They are\nadmittedly experimental\u2014that is to say, debatable\u2014since they do not\nderive their authority from revelation. And they are presented as an\nappeal to reason, to conscience, to generosity, not as the commandments\nof God. The Council of Vienna in 1312 declared that any ruler or\nmagistrate who sanctioned usury and compelled debtors to observe\nusurious contracts would be excommunicated; all laws which sanctioned\nmoney-lending at interest were to be repealed within three months. The\nchurches do not speak in that tone of voice to-day.\n\nThus if an organization like the Federal Council of Churches of Christ\nis distressed by, let us say, the labor policy of a great corporation,\nit inquires courteously of the president\u2019s secretary whether it would\nnot be possible for him to confer with a delegation about the matter.\nIf the churchmen are granted an interview, which is never altogether\ncertain, they have to argue with the business man on secular grounds.\nWere they to say that the eight-hour day was the will of God, he\nwould conclude they were cranks, he would surreptitiously press the\nbuzzer under his desk, and in a few moments his secretary would appear\nsummoning him to an important board meeting. They have to argue with\nhim, if they are to obtain a hearing, about the effect on health,\nefficiency, turnover, [p088] and other such matters which are worked\nup for them by economists. As churchmen they have kindly impulses, but\nthere is no longer a body of doctrine in the churches which enables\nthem to speak with authority.\n\nThe emancipation of business from religious control is perhaps even\nmore threatening to the authority of the churches than the rivalry of\nsects or the rise of the civil power. Business is a daily occupation;\ngovernment meets the eye of the ordinary men only now and then. That\nthe main interest in the waking life of most people should be carried\non wholly separated from the faith they profess means that the churches\nhave lost one of the great provinces of the human soul. The sponsors\nof the Broadway Temple in New York City put the matter in a thoroughly\nmodern, even if it was a rather coarse, way when they proclaimed a\ncampaign to sell bonds as \u201ca five percent investment in your Fellow\nMan\u2019s Salvation\u2014Broadway Temple is to be a combination of Church and\nSkyscraper, Religion and Revenue, Salvation and 5 Percent\u2014and the 5\npercent is based on ethical Christian grounds.\u201d The five percent, they\nhastened to add, was also based on a gilt-edged real-estate mortgage;\nthe salvation, however, was, we may suppose, a speculative profit.\n\n\n2. _The Family_\n\nThe family is the inner citadel of religious authority and there the\nchurches have taken their most determined stand. Long after they had\nabandoned politics to Caesar and business to Mammon, they continued\nto insist upon their authority to fix the ideal of sexual relations.\nBut here, too, the dissolution of their authority has proceeded\n[p089] inexorably. They have lost their exclusive right to preside\nover marriages. They have not been able to maintain the dogma that\nmarriage is indissoluble. They are not able to prevent the remarriage\nof divorced persons. Although in many jurisdictions fornication and\nadultery are still crimes, there is no longer any serious attempt to\nenforce the statutes. The churches have failed in their insistence that\nsexual intercourse by married persons is a sin unless it is validated\nby the willingness to beget a child. Except to the poorest and most\nignorant the means of preventing conception are available to all. There\nis no longer any compulsion to regard the sexual life as within the\njurisdiction of the commissioners of the Lord.\n\nReligious teachers knew long ago what modern psychologists have\nsomewhat excitedly rediscovered: that there is a very intimate\nconnection between the sexual life and the religious life. Only men\nliving in a time when religion has lost so much of its inward vitality\ncould be shocked at this simple truth, for the churches, when their\ninspiration was fresh, have always known it. That is why they have\nlaid such tremendous emphasis upon the religious control of sexual\nexperience, have extolled chastity, have preached continence after\nmarriage except where parenthood was in view, have inveighed against\nfornication, adultery, divorce, and all unprocreative indulgence, have\ninsisted that marriages be celebrated within the communion, have upheld\nthe parental authority over children. They were not prudish. That is\na state of mind which marks the decay of vigorous determination to\ncontrol the sexual life. The early teachers did not avert their eyes.\nThey did not mince their words. For they knew what they were doing.\n[p090]\n\nMen like St. Paul and St. Augustine knew in the most direct way what\nsexual desire can do to distract the religious life; how if it is not\nsternly regulated, and if it is allowed to run wild, it intoxicates\nthe whole personality to the exclusion of spiritual interests. They\nknew, too, although perhaps not quite so explicitly, that these same\npassions, if they are repressed and redirected, may come forth as\nan ecstasy of religious devotion. They were not reformers. They did\nnot think of progress. They did not suppose that the animal in man\ncould somehow be refined until it was no longer animal. When Paul\nspoke of the law of his members warring against the law of his mind,\nand bringing him into captivity to the law of sin, he had made a\nrealistic observation which any candid person can verify out of his own\nexperience. There was no vague finical nonsense about this war of the\nmembers against the inward man seeking delight in the law of God.\n\nIf the sexual impulse were not deeply related to the religious life,\nthe preoccupation of churchmen with it throughout the ages would be\nabsurd. They have not been preoccupied in any comparable degree with\nthe other physiological functions of the body. They have concerned\nthemselves somewhat with eating and drinking, for gluttony and\ndrunkenness can also distract men from religion. But hunger and thirst\nare minor passions, far more easily satisfied than lust, and in no way\nso pervasive and imperious. The world, the flesh, and the devil may\nusually be taken to mean sexual desire. Around it, then, the churches\nhave built up a ritual, to dominate it lest they be dominated by it.\nTenaciously and with good reason they have fought against surrendering\ntheir authority. [p091]\n\nWith equally great insight they have kept the closest possible\nassociation with family life especially during the childhood of\nthe offspring. Here again they anticipated by many long ages the\ndiscoveries of modern psychologists. They have always known that it is\nin the earliest years, before puberty, that tradition is transmitted.\nMuch is learned after puberty, but in childhood education is more than\nmere learning. There education is the growth of the disposition, the\nfixing of the prejudices to which all later experience is cumulative.\nIn childhood men acquire the forms of their seeing, the prototypes of\ntheir feeling, the style of their character. There presumably the very\npattern of authority itself is implanted by habit, fitted to the model\npresented by the child\u2019s parents. There the assumption is fixed that\nthere are wiser and stronger beings whom, in the nature of things, one\nmust obey. There the need to obey is fixed. There the whole drift of\nexperience is such as to make credible the idea that above the child\nthere is the father, above the father a king and the wise men, above\nthem all a heavenly Father and King.\n\nIt is plain that any change which disturbs the constitution of the home\nwill tend profoundly to alter the child\u2019s sense of what he may expect\nthe constitution of the universe to be. There are many disturbing\nchanges of which none is more important surely than the emancipation\nof women. The God of popular religion has usually been an elderly\nmale. There have been some female divinities worshipped in different\nparts of the world as there have been matriarchal societies. But by\nand large the imagination of men has conceived God as a father. They\nhave magnified to a cosmic scale what they [p092] had seen at home.\nIt was the male who created the child. It was his seed that the mother\ncherished in her womb. It was the male who provided for the needs of\nthe family, even if the woman did the hard work. It was the male who\nfended off enemies. It was the male who laid down the law. It was\nthe name of the male parent which was preserved and passed on from\ngeneration to generation. Everything conspired to fix the belief that\nthe true order of life was a hierarchy with a man at the apex.\n\nThis general notion becomes less and less credible as women assert\nthemselves. The child of the modern household is soon made to see that\nthere are at least two persons who can give him orders, and that they\ndo not always give him the same ones. This does not educate him to\nbelieve that there is one certain guide to conduct in the universe.\nThere are likely to be two guides to conduct in his universe, as women\ninsist that they are independent personalities with minds of their\nown. This insistence, moreover, tends rather to disarrange the notion\nthat the father is the creator of the child. An observant youngster,\nespecially in these days of frank talk about sex, soon becomes aware of\nthe fact that the role of the male in procreation is a relatively minor\none. But most disturbing of all is the very modern household in which\nthe woman earns her own living. For here the child is deprived of the\nopportunity, which is so conducive to belief in authority, of seeing\ndaily that even his mother is dependent upon a greater person for the\ngood things in life.\n\nAlthough women, by and large, are by no means able to earn as much\nmoney as men, the fact which counts is that they can earn enough to\nsupport themselves. They [p093] may not actually support themselves.\nBut the knowledge that they could, as it becomes an accepted idea in\nsociety, has revolutionary consequences. In former times the woman was\ndependent upon her husband for bed, board, shelter, and clothing. Her\nwhole existence was determined by her mating; her sexual experience was\nan integral part of her livelihood and her social position. But once it\nhad become established that a woman could live without a husband, the\nintimate connection between her sex and her career began to dissolve.\n\nThe invention of dependable methods of preventing conception has\ncarried this dissolution much further. Birth control has separated the\nsexual act from the whole series of social consequences which were\nonce probable if not inevitable. For with the discovery that children\nneed be born only when they are wanted, the sexual experience has\nbecome increasingly a personal and private affair. It was once an\ninstitutional affair\u2014for the woman. For the man, from time immemorial,\nthere have been two sorts of sexual experience\u2014one which had no public\nconsequences, and one which entailed the responsibilities of a family.\nThe effect of the modern changes, particularly of woman\u2019s economic\nindependence and of birth control, is to equalize the freedom and the\nobligations of men and women.\n\nThat the sexual life has become separated from parenthood and that\ntherefore it is no longer subject to external regulation, is evident.\nWhile the desires of men and women for each other were links in a chain\nwhich included the family and the household and children, authority,\nand by that token religious authority, could hope to fix the sexual\n[p094] ideal. When the chain broke, and love had no consequences\nwhich were not too subtle for the outsider to measure, the ideal of\nlove was fixed not by the church in the name of God, but by prudence,\nconvention, the prevailing rules of hygiene, by taste, circumstances,\nand personal sensibility.\n\n\n3. _Art_\n\n\n_(a) The Disappearance of Religious Painting_\n\nTo walk through a museum of Western European art is to behold a\npeculiarly vivid record of how the great themes of popular religion\nhave ceased to inspire the imagination of modern men. One can visualize\nthere the whole story of the dissolution of the ancestral order and\nof our present bewilderment. One can see how toward the close of\nthe Fifteenth Century the great themes illustrating the reign of a\nheavenly king and of the drama of man\u2019s salvation had ceased to be\nnaively believed; how at the close of the next century which witnessed\nthe Reformation and the Counter-Reformation, the beginnings of modern\nscience, the growth of cities, and the rise of capitalism, religious\npainting ceased to be the concern of the best painters; and finally\nhow in the last hundred years painters have illustrated by feverish\nexperimentation the modern man\u2019s effort to find an adequate substitute\nfor the organizing principle of the religion which he has lost.\n\nIt has been said by way of explanation that painters must sell their\nwork, and they must, therefore, paint what the rich and powerful\nwill buy. Thus it is pointed out that in the Middle Ages they worked\nunder the patronage of the Church; in the Renaissance their patrons\nwere paganized [p095] princes and popes, and artists made pictures\nwhich, even when the theme was religious, were no longer Christian in\nspirit. Later in the north of Europe the bourgeoisie acquired money and\nstation, and the Dutch painters did their portraits, and made faithful\nrepresentations of their kitchens and their parlors. A little later\nFrench painters at the Court of Versailles made pictures for courtiers,\nand in our time John Sargent painted the wives of millionaires. To say\nall this is to say that the ruling classes in the modern world are no\nlonger interested in pictures which illustrate or are inspired by the\nreligion they profess.\n\nThis attempt at an explanation in terms of supply and demand may or\nmay not be sound for the ordinary run of painters. It leaves out of\naccount, however, those very painters who are the most significant\nand interesting. It leaves out of account the painters who, by heroic\nrefusal to supply the existing market, deserve universal respect, and\nin many cases have won an ultimate public vindication. These men do not\nfit into the theory of supply and demand, for they endured poverty and\nderision in order to paint what they most wanted to paint. They are not\nof the tribe, which Mr. Walter Pach calls Ananias, who betray the truth\nthat is in them. But for that truth they did not draw upon the themes\nnor the sense of life which almost all of them must have been taught\nwhen they were children. They did not paint religious pictures. They\npainted landscapes, streets, interiors, still life, heads, persons,\nnudes. Whatever else they perceived and tried to express, they did\nnot see their objects in the perspective of human destiny and divine\ngovernment. There is no reason, then, to say that religious painting,\neven in the [p096] broadest sense of the term, has disappeared because\nthere is no effective demand for it. Obviously it has disappeared\nbecause the will to produce it has disappeared.\n\n\n_(b) The Loss of a Heritage_\n\nIn setting the religious tradition aside as something with which they\nare not concerned when they are at work, artists are merely behaving\nlike modern men. It is plain that the religious tradition has become\nprogressively less relevant to anyone who as painter or sculptor is\nengaged in making images. This is a direct result of that increasing\nsophistication of religious thought which was signalized in Europe\nby the iconoclasm of the Protestant reformers and the puritanism of\nthe Catholic Counter-Reformation. Before the acids of modernity had\nbegun to dissolve the organic reality of the ancient faith, there was\nno difficulty about picturing God the Father as a patriarch and the\nVirgin Mary as a young blonde Tuscan mother. There was no disposition\nto disbelieve, and so the imagination was at once nourished by a great\nheritage of ideas and yet free to elaborate it. But when the authority\nof the old beliefs was challenged, a great literature of controversy\nand definition was let loose upon the world. And from the point of\nview of the artist the chief effect of this effort to argue and to\nstate exactly, to defend and to rebut, was to substitute concepts for\npictorial ideas. When the nature of God became a matter of definition,\nit was obviously crude and illiterate to represent him as a benign\nold man. Thus the more the theologians refined the dogmas of their\nreligion the more impossible they made it for painters to express its\nsignificance. No painter who ever lived could [p097] make a picture\nwhich expressed the religion of the Rev. Harry Emerson Fosdick. There\nis nothing there which the visual imagination can use.\n\nPainters have, therefore, a rather better reason than most men for\nhaving turned their backs upon the religious tradition. They can say\nwith a clear conscience that the contemporary churches have removed\nfrom that tradition those very qualities which once made it an\ninexhaustible source of artistic inspiration. They need only point to\nmodern religious writing in their own support: at its best it has the\nqualities of an impassioned argument and more often it is intolerably\nflat and vague because in our intellectual climate skepticism dissolves\nthe concreteness of the imagery and leaves behind sonorous adjectives\nand opaque nouns.\n\nThe full effects of this separation of the artist from the ancient\ntraditions of Christendom have been felt only in the last two or three\ngenerations. It is no doubt true that the modern disbelief had its\nbeginnings many generations ago, perhaps in the Fifteenth Century, but\nthe momentum of the ancient faith was so great that it took a long\ntime, even after corrosive doubt had started, before its influence came\nto an end. The artists of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries may\nnot have been devout, but they lived in a society in which the forms of\nthe old order, the hierarchy of classes, the sense of authority, and\nthe general fund of ideas about human destiny, still had vast prestige.\nBut in the Nineteenth Century that old order was almost completely\ndissolved and the prestige of its ideas destroyed. The artist of the\nlast two or three generations has confronted the world without any\naccepted understanding [p098] of human life. He has had to improvise\nhis own understanding of life. That is a new thing in the experience of\nartists.\n\n\n_(c) The Artist Formerly_\n\nIn 787 the Second Council of Nic\u00e6a laid down the rule which for nearly\nfive hundred years was binding upon the artists of Christendom:\n\n The substance of religious scenes is not left to the initiative\n of the artists: it derives from the principles laid down by the\n Catholic Church and religious tradition.... His art alone belongs\n to the painter, its organization and arrangement belong to the\n clergy.\n\nThis was a reasonable rule, since the Church and not the individual was\nheld to be the guardian of those sacred truths upon which depended the\nsalvation of souls and the safety of society. The notion had occurred\nto nobody that the artist was divinely inspired and knew more than\nthe doctors of the church. Therefore, the artist was given careful\nspecifications as to what he was to represent.\n\nThus when the Church of St. Urban of Troyes decided to order a set of\ntapestries illustrating the story of St. Valerian and of his wife, St.\nCecilia, a learned priest was deputed to draw up the contract for the\nartist. In it he wrote among other specifications that: \u201cthere shall be\nportrayed a place and a tabernacle in the manner of a beautiful room,\nin which there shall be St. Cecilia, humbly on her knees with her hands\njoined, praying to God. And beside her shall be Valerian expressing\ngreat admiration and watching an angel which, being above their heads,\nshould be holding two crowns made of lilies and of roses, [p099] which\nhe will be placing the one on the head of St. Cecilia and the other on\nthe head of Valerian, her husband....\u201d\n\nThe rest, one might suppose, was left to the artist\u2019s imagination.\nBut it was not. Having been given his subject matter and his theme,\nhe was bound further by strict conventions as to how sacred subjects\nwere to be depicted. Jesus on the Cross had to be shown with his mother\non the right and St. John on the left. The centurion pierced his left\nside. His nimbus contained a cross, as the mark of divinity, whereas\nthe saints had the nimbus without a cross. Only God, the angels,\nJesus Christ, and the Apostles could be represented with bare feet;\nit was heretical to depict the Virgin or the Saints with bare feet.\nThe purpose of these conventions was to help the spectator identify\nthe figures in the picture. Thus St. Peter was given a short beard\nand a tonsure; St. Paul was bald and had a long beard. It is possible\nthat these conventions, which were immensely intricate, were actually\ncodified in manuals which were passed on from master to apprentice in\nthe workshops.\n\nAs a general rule the ecclesiastics who drew up specifications did not\ninvent the themes. Thus the learned priest who drafted the contract for\nthe tapestry of St. Cecilia drew his material from the encyclopedia\nof Vincent de Beauvais. This was a compendium of universal knowledge\ncovering the whole of history from Creation to the Last Judgment. It\nwas a source book to which any man could turn in order to find the\ntruth he happened to need. It contained all of human knowledge and the\nanswer to all human problems. By the Thirteenth Century there were a\nnumber of these encyclopedias, of which the greatest was [p100] the\n_Summa_ of St. Thomas Aquinas. From these books churchmen took the\nthemes which they employed their artists to embellish. The artist\nhimself had no concern as to what he would paint, nor even as to how\nhe would paint it. That was given, and his energies could be employed\nwithout the travail of intellectual invention, upon the task of\nexpressing a clear conception in well-established forms.\n\nIt must not be supposed, of course, that either doctrines, lore, or\nsymbolism were uniformly standardized and exactly enforced. In an age\nof faith, contradictions and discrepancies are not evident; they are\nmerely variations on the same theme. Thus, while it may be true that\nenthusiastic medi\u00e6valists like M. M\u00e2le have exaggerated the order\nand symmetry of the medi\u00e6val tradition, they are right, surely, on\nthe main point, which is that the organic character of the popular\nreligion provided a consensus of feeling about human destiny which,\nin conjunction with the resources of the popular lore, sustained and\norganized the imagination of medi\u00e6val artists. Because religious faith\nwas simple and genuine, it could absorb and master almost anything.\nThus the clergy ruled the artists with a relatively light hand, and\nthey were not disturbed if, in illuminating the pages of a Book of\nHours, the artist adorned the margins with a picture of Bacchus or the\nlove of Pyramus and Thisbe.\n\nIt was only when the clergy had been made self-conscious by the\ncontroversies which raged around the Reformation that they began in any\nstrict and literally-minded modern sense to enforce the rule laid down\nat Nic\u00e6a in 787. At the Council of Trent in 1563 the great liberty of\nthe artist within the Christian tradition came to an end: [p101]\n\n The Holy Council forbids the placing in a church of any image\n which calls to mind an erroneous dogma which might mislead the\n simple-minded. It desires that all impurity be avoided, that\n provocative qualities be not given to images. In order to insure\n respect for its decisions, the Holy Council forbids anyone to place\n or to have placed anywhere, and even in churches which are not open\n to the public, any unusual image unless the bishop has approved it.\n\nIn theory this decree at Trent is not far removed from the decree at\nNic\u00e6a nearly one thousand years earlier. But in fact it is a whole\nworld removed from it. For the dogmas at Nic\u00e6a rested upon naive faith\nand the dogmas at Trent rested upon definition. The outcome showed the\ndifference, for within a generation Catholic scholars made a critical\nsurvey of the lore which medi\u00e6val art had employed, and on grounds of\ntaste, doctrine, and the like, condemned the greater part of it. After\nthat, as M. M\u00e2le says, there might still be artists who were Christians\nbut there was no longer a Christian art.\n\n\n_(d) The Artist as Prophet_\n\nWhether the necessity of creating his own tradition is a good or a bad\nthing for the artist, there can be no doubt that it is a novel thing\nand a burdensome one. Artists have responded to it by proclaiming one\nof two theories: they have said that the artist, being a genius, was a\nprophet; when they did not say that, they said that religion, morality,\nand philosophy were irrelevant, and that art should be practiced for\nart\u2019s sake. Both theories are obviously attempts to find some personal\nsubstitute for those traditions upon which artists in all other ages\nhave been dependent. [p102]\n\nThe theory of the artist as prophet has this serious defect: there\nis practically no evidence to support it. Why should there be? What\nconnection is there between the capacity to make beautiful objects and\nthe capacity to discover truth? Surely experience shows that it is\nsomething of a marvel when a great artist appears who, like Leonardo\nor Goethe, is also an original and important thinker. Indeed, it is\nreasonable to ask whether the analysis and abstraction which thinking\ninvolves are not radically different psychological processes from\nthe painter\u2019s passionate appreciation of the appearance of things.\nCertainly to think as physicists think is to strip objects of all\ntheir secondary characters, not alone of their emotional significance,\nbut of their color, their texture, their fragrance, and even of their\nsuperficial forms. The world as we know it through our senses has\ncompletely disappeared before the physicist begins to think about\nit. And in its place there is a collection of concepts which have no\npictorial value whatsoever. These concepts are by definition incapable\nof being visualized, and when as a concession to human weakness, his\nown or his pupil\u2019s, the scientist constructs a mechanical model to\nillustrate an idea, this model is at best a crude analogy, and in no\nreal sense the portrait of that idea.\n\nThus when Shelley made Earth say:\n\n I spin beneath my pyramid of night,\n Which points into the heavens ...\n\nhe borrowed an image from astronomy. But this image, which is, I think,\nsuperb poetry, radically alters the original scientific idea, for\nit introduces into a realm of purely [p103] physical relations the\nnotion of a gigantic spectator with a vastly magnified human eye. There\nare, no doubt, many other concepts in science which, if poets knew\nmore science, would lend themselves to translation into equally noble\nimages. But these images would not state the scientific truth.\n\nThe current belief that artists are prophets is an inheritance from\nthe time when science had no critical method of its own, and poets,\nbeing reflective persons, had at least as good a chance as anyone\nelse of stumbling upon truths which were subsequently verified. It is\ndue in some measure also to the human tendency to remember the happy\nguesses of poets and to forget their unhappy ones, a tendency which\nhas gone far to sustain the reputations of fortune-tellers, oracles,\nand stockbrokers. But above all, the reputation of the artist as one\nwho must have wisdom is sustained by a rather genial fallacy: he finds\nexpression for the feelings of the spectator, and the spectator rather\nquickly assumes that the artist has found an explanation for the world.\n\nYet unless I am greatly mistaken the modern painter has ceased not\nonly to depict any theory of destiny but has ceased to express any\nimportant human mood in the presence of destiny. One goes to a museum\nand comes out feeling that one has beheld an odd assortment of nude\nbodies, copper kettles, oranges, tomatoes, and zinnias, babies, street\ncorners, apple trees, bathing beaches, bankers, and fashionable ladies.\nI do not say that this person or that may not find a picture immensely\nsignificant to him. But the general impression for anyone, I think, is\nof a chaos of anecdotes, perceptions, fantasies, and little [p104]\ncommentaries, which may be all very well in their way, but are not\nsustaining and could readily be dispensed with.\n\nThe conclusive answer to the romantic theory of the artist as prophet\nis a visit to a collection of modern paintings.\n\n\n_(e) Art for Art\u2019s Sake_\n\nThis brings us to the other theory, which is that art has nothing to do\nwith prophecy, wisdom, and the meaning of life, but has to do only with\nart. This theory must command an altogether different kind of respect\nthan the sentimental theory of the artist as prophet. This indeed is\nthe theory which most artists now hold. \u201cI am convinced,\u201d says Mr. R.\nH. Wilenski in his book _The Modern Movement in Art_, \u201cthat all the\nmost intelligent artists of Western Europe in recent centuries have\nbeen tormented by this search for a justification of their work and a\ncriterion of its value; and that almost all such artists have attempted\nto solve the problem by some consciously-held idea of art; or in other\nwords that in place of art justified by service to a religion they have\nsought to evolve an art justified by service to an idea of art itself.\u201d\n\nThe instinct of artists in this matter is, I think, much sounder than\nthe rationalizations which they have constructed. As working artists\nthey do not think of themselves as seers, philosophers, or moralists.\nThey do not wish to be judged as thinkers, but as painters, and they\nare justifiably impatient with the Philistines who are interested\nprimarily in the subject matter and its human significance. The painter\nknows quite well that in the [p105] broadly human sense he has no\nspecial qualifications as story-teller or wise man. What he is driving\nat, therefore, in his expression of contempt for the subject matter of\nart is the wish that he might again be in the position of the medi\u00e6val\nartist who did not have to concern himself _as artist_ with the\nsignificance of his themes. The intuition behind the theory of art for\nart\u2019s sake is the artist\u2019s wish to be free of a responsibility which\nhe has never before had put upon him. The peculiar circumstances of\nmodernity have thrust upon him, much against his will and regardless of\nhis aptitudes, the intolerably heavy burden of doing for himself what\nin other ages was done for him by tradition and authority.\n\nThe philosophy which he has invented is an attempt to prove that\nno philosophy is necessary. Carried to its conclusion, this theory\neventuates in the belief that painting must become an arrangement of\nforms and colors which have no human connotation whatsoever for the\nartist or the spectator. These arrangements represent nothing in the\nreal world. They signify nothing. They are an esthetic artifice in the\nsame sense that the more esoteric geometries are logical artifices.\nThis much can at least be said of them: they are a consistent effort\nto practice the arts in a world where there is no human tradition upon\nwhich the representative arts can draw.\n\nThis absolute estheticism is not, however, art without philosophy. Some\nsort of philosophy is implied in all human activity. The artist who\nsays that it is delightful above all other things to realize the pure\nform of objects, regardless of whether this object is a saint, a lovely\nwoman, or a dish of fruit, has made a very important [p106] statement\nabout life. He has said that the ordinary meanings which men attach\nto objects are of no consequence, that their order of moral values is\nultimately a delusion, that all facts are equally good and equally bad,\nand that to contemplate anything, it does not matter what, under the\naspect of its esthetic form, is to realize all that the artist can give.\n\nThis, too, is a philosophy and a very radical philosophy at that. It\nis in fact just the philosophy which men were bound to construct for\nthemselves in an age when the traditional theory of the purpose of life\nhad lost its meaning for them. For they are saying that experience\nhas no meaning beyond that which each man can find in the intense\nrealization of each passing moment. He must fail, they would feel, if\nhe attempts to connect these passing moments into a coherent story\nof his whole experience, let alone the whole experience of the human\nrace. For experience has no underlying significance, man himself has\nno station in the universe, and the universe has no plan which is more\nthan a drift of circumstances, illuminated here and there by flashes of\nself-consciousness.\n\n\n_(f) The Burden of Originality_\n\nAs a matter of fact this doctrine is merely the esthetic version of the\nrather crude mechanistic materialism which our grandfathers thought\nwas the final conclusion of science. The connection is made evident in\nthe famous \u201c_Conclusions_\u201d to \u201c_The Renaissance_\u201d which Walter Pater\nwrote in 1868, and then omitted from the second edition because \u201cit\nmight possibly mislead some of those young men into whose hands it\nmight fall.\u201d In this [p107] essay there was the startling, though\nit is now hackneyed, assertion that \u201cto burn always with this hard,\ngem-like flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life,\u201d and\nthat \u201cof this wisdom, the poetic passion, the desire of beauty, the\nlove of art for art\u2019s sake, has most; for art comes to you professing\nfrankly to give nothing but the highest quality to your moments as they\npass, and simply for those moments\u2019 sake.\u201d What is never quoted, and\nis apparently forgotten, is the reasoning by which Pater arrived at\nthe conclusion that momentary ecstasy is the end and aim of life. It\nis, if we turn back a few pages, that scientific analysis has reduced\neverything to a mere swarm of whirling atoms, upon which consciousness\ndiscerns impressions that are \u201cunstable, flickering, inconsistent.\u201d It\nwas out of this misunderstanding of the nature of scientific concepts\nthat Pater developed his theory of art for the moment\u2019s sake.\n\nI dwell upon this only in order to show that what appeared to be an\nestheticism divorced from all human concern was really a somewhat\ncasual by-product of a fashionable misunderstanding at the time\nPater was writing. We should find that to-day equally far-reaching\nconclusions are arrived at by half-understood popularizations of\nBergson or Freud. I venture to believe that any theory of art is\ninevitably implicated in some philosophy of life, and that the only\nquestion is whether the artist is conscious or unconscious of the\ntheory he is acting upon. For unless the artist deals with purely\nlogical essences, provided he observes and perceives anything in\nthe outer world, no matter how he represents it or symbolizes it or\ncomments upon it, there must be implicit in it some attitude [p108]\ntoward the meaning of existence. If his conclusion is that human\nexistence has no meaning, that, too, is an attitude toward the meaning\nof existence. The medi\u00e6val artist worked on much less tangled premises.\nHe painted pictures which illustrated the great hopes and fears of\nChristendom. But he did not himself attempt to formulate those hopes\nand fears. He accepted them more or less ready made, understanding\nthem and believing in them because, as a child of his age, they were\nhis hopes and fears. But because they existed and were there for\nhim to work upon, he could put his whole energy into realizing them\npassionately. The modern artist would like to have the same freedom\nfrom preoccupation, but he cannot have it. He has first to decide what\nit is that he shall passionately realize.\n\nIn effect the medi\u00e6val artist was reproducing a story that had often\nbeen told before. But the modern artist has to undergo a whole\npreliminary labor of inventing, creating, formulating, for which there\nwas almost no counterpart in the life of a medi\u00e6val artist. The modern\nartist has to be original. That is to say, he has to seize experience,\npick it over, and drag from it his theme. It is a very exhausting task,\nas anyone can testify who has tried it.\n\nThat surely is why we hear so much of the storm and stress in the soul\nof a modern artist. The craftsman does not go through agonies over the\nchoice of words, images, and rhythms. The agony of the modern artist\nlies in the effort to give birth to the idea, to bring some intuition\nof order out of the chaos of experience, to create the idea with which\nhis art can deal. We assume, [p109] quite falsely I think, that this\nact of \u2018creation\u2019 is an inherent part of the artist\u2019s task. But if we\nrefrain from using words loosely, and reserve the word creation to\nmean the finding of the original intuition and idea, then creation is\nplainly not a necessary part of the artist\u2019s equipment. Creation is\nan obligation which the artist has had thrust upon him as a result of\nthe dissolution of the great accepted themes. He is compelled to be\ncreative because his world is chaotic.\n\nThis labor of creation has no connection with his gifts as a painter.\nThere is no more reason why a painter should be able to extemporize\na satisfactory interpretation of life than that he should be able to\ngovern a city or write a treatise on chemistry. Giotto surely was as\nprofoundly original a painter as the world is likely to see; it has\nbeen said of him by Mr. Berenson, who has full title to speak, that he\nhad \u201ca thoroughgoing sense for the significant in the visible world.\u201d\nBut with all his genius, what would have been Giotto\u2019s plight if,\nin addition to exercising his sense of the significant, he had had\nto create for himself all his standards of significance? For Giotto\nthose standards existed in the Catholic Christianity of the Thirteenth\nCentury, and it was by the measure of these standards, within the\nframework of a great accepted tradition, that he followed his own\npersonal sense of the significant. But the modern artist, though he had\nGiotto\u2019s gifts, would not have Giotto\u2019s freedom to use them. A very\nlarge part of his energies, consciously or unconsciously, would have\nto be spent in devising some sort of substitute for the traditional\nview of life which Giotto took for granted. For there is no longer an\naccepted view of [p110] life organized in stories which all men know\nand understand.\n\nThere is instead a profusion of creeds and philosophies, fads and\nintellectual experiments among which the modern painter, like every\nother modern man, finds himself trying to choose a philosophy of\nlife. Everybody is somewhat dithered by these choices: the business\nof being a Shavian one year, a Nietzschean the next, a Bergsonian\nthe third, then of being a patriot for the duration of the war, and\nafter that a Freudian, is not conducive to the serene exercise of a\npainter\u2019s talents. For these various philosophies which the artist\npicks up here and there, or by which he is oftener than not picked\nup and carried along, are immensely in dispute. They are not clear.\nThey are rather personal and somewhat accidental visions of the world.\nThey are essentially unpictorial because they originate in science and\nare incompleted, abstracted teachings for the meaning of things. As a\nresult the art in which they are implicit is often uninteresting, and\nusually unintelligible, to those who do not happen to belong to the\nsame cult.\n\nThe painter can hardly expect to invent for himself a view of life\nwhich will bring order out of the chaos of modernity. Yet he is\ncompelled to try, for he is engaged in setting down a vision of the\nworld, and every vision of the world implies some sort of philosophy.\nThe effects of the modern emancipation are more clearly evident in the\nhistory of painting during the last hundred years than in almost any\nother activity, because in the galleries hang in frames the successive\nattempts of men, who are deeply immersed in the modern scene, to set\ndown their [p111] statements about life. Mr. Wilenski, who is an\nastute and well-informed critic, has estimated that during the last\nhundred years in Paris a new movement in painting has been inaugurated\nevery ten years. That would correspond fairly accurately to the birth\nand death of new philosophies in the advanced and most emancipated\ncircles.\n\nWhat was happening to painting is precisely what has happened to all\nthe other separated activities of men. Each activity has its own ideal,\nindeed a succession of ideals, for with the dissolution of the supreme\nideal of service to God, there is no ideal which unites them all, and\nsets them in order. Each ideal is supreme within a sphere of its own.\nThere is no point of reference outside which can determine the relative\nvalue of competing ideals. The modern man desires health, he desires\nmoney, he desires power, beauty, love, truth, but which he shall desire\nthe most since he cannot pursue them all to their logical conclusions,\nhe no longer has any means of deciding. His impulses are no longer\nparts of one attitude toward life; his ideals are no longer in a\nhierarchy under one lordly ideal. They have become differentiated. They\nare free and they are incommensurable.\n\nThe religious synthesis has dissolved. The modern man no longer holds a\nbelief about the universe which sustains a pervasive emotion about his\ndestiny; he no longer believes genuinely in any idea which organizes\nhis interests within the framework of a cosmic order.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII [p112]\n\nTHE DRAMA OF DESTINY\n\n\n1. _The Soul in the Modern World_\n\nThe effect of modernity, then, is to specialize and thus to intensify\nour separated activities. Once all things were phases of a single\ndestiny: the church, the state, the family, the school were means to\nthe same end; the rights and duties of the individual in society, the\nrules of morality, the themes of art, and the teachings of science\nwere all of them ways of revealing, of celebrating, of applying the\nlaws laid down in the divine constitution of the universe. In the\nmodern world institutions are more or less independent, each serving\nits own proximate purpose, and our culture is really a collection of\nseparate interests each sovereign within its own realm. We do not put\nshrines in our workshops, and we think it unseemly to talk business\nin the vestibule of a church. We dislike politics in the pulpit and\npreaching from politicians. We do not look upon our scholars as priests\nor upon our priests as learned men. We do not expect science to sustain\ntheology, nor religion to dominate art. On the contrary we insist with\nmuch fervor on the separation of church and state, of religion and\nscience, of politics and historical research, of morality and art, of\nbusiness and love. This separation of activities has its counterpart\nin a separation of selves; the life of a modern man is not so much\nthe [p113] history of a single soul; it is rather a play of many\ncharacters within a single body.\n\nThat may be why the modern autobiographical novel usually runs to two\nvolumes; the author requires more space to explain how his various\npersonalities came to be what they were at each little crisis of\nadolescence and of middle age than St. Augustine, St. Thomas \u00e0 Kempis,\nand St. Francis put together needed in order to describe their whole\ndestiny in this world and the next. No doubt we are rather long-winded\nand tiresome about the complexities of our souls. But from the\nknowledge that we are complex there is no escape.\n\nThe modern man is unable any longer to think of himself as a single\npersonality approaching an everlasting judgment. He is one man to-day\nand another to-morrow, one person here and another there. He does not\nfeel he knows himself. He is sure that no one else knows him at all.\nHis motives are intricate, and not wholly what they seem. He is moved\nby impulses which he feels but cannot describe. There are dark depths\nin his nature which no one has ever explored. There are splendors which\nare unreleased. He has become greatly interested in his moods. The\nprecise nuances of his likes and dislikes have become very important.\nThere is no telling just what he is or what he may become, but there\nis a certain breathless interest in having one of his selves watch and\ncomment upon the mischief and the frustrations of his other selves.\nThe problems of his character have become dissociated from any feeling\nthat they involve his immortal destiny. They have become dissociated\nfrom the feeling that they deeply matter. From the feeling that [p114]\nthey are deeply his own. From the feeling that there is any personality\nto own them. There they are: his inferiority complex and mine, your\nsadistic impulse and Tom Jones\u2019s, Anna\u2019s father fixation, and little\nWillie\u2019s pyromania.\n\nThe thoroughly modern man has really ceased to believe that there is\nan immortal essence presiding like a king over his appetites. The\nword \u2018soul\u2019 has become a figure of speech, which he uses loosely,\nsometimes to mean his tenderer aspirations, sometimes to mean the\nwhole collection of his impulses, sometimes, when he is in a hurry,\nto mean nothing at all. It is certainly not the fashion any longer to\nthink of the soul as a little lord ruling the turbulent rabble of his\ncarnal passions; the constitutional form in popular psychology to-day\nis republican. Each impulse may invoke the Bill of Rights, and have\nits way if the others will let it. As Bertrand Russell has put it: \u201cA\nsingle desire is no better and no worse, considered in isolation, than\nany other; but a group of desires is better than another group if all\nof the first group can be satisfied, while in the second group some are\ninconsistent with others,\u201d but since, unhappily as is usually the case,\ndesires are extremely inconsistent, the uttermost that the modern man\ncan say is that the victory must go to the strongest desires. Morality\nthus becomes a traffic code designed to keep as many desires as\npossible moving together without too many violent collisions. When men\ninsist that morality is more than that, they are quickly denounced, in\ngeneral correctly, as Meddlesome Matties, as enemies of human liberty,\nor as schemers trying to get the better of their fellow men. Morality,\nconceived as a discipline [p115] to fit men for heaven, is resented;\nmorality, conceived as a discipline for happiness, is understood by\nvery few. The objective moral certitudes have dissolved, and in the\nliberal philosophy there is nothing to take their place.\n\n\n2. _The Great Scenario_\n\nThe modern world is like a stage on which a stupendous play has just\nbeen presented. Many who were in the audience are still spellbound,\nand as they pass out into the street, the scenario of the drama still\nseems to them the very clue and plan of life. In the prologue the earth\nwas without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep.\nThen at the command of God the sun, the moon, the stars, the earth, its\nplants and its animals, then man, and after him woman, were created.\nAnd in the epilogue the blessed were living in the New Jerusalem, a\ncity of pure gold like clear glass, with walls laid on foundations of\nprecious stones. Between the darkness that preceded creation and the\nglory of this heavenly city which had no need of the sun, a plot was\nunfolded which constitutes the history of mankind. In the beginning man\nwas perfect. But the devil tempted him to eat the forbidden fruit, and\nas a punishment God banished him from paradise, and laid upon him and\nhis descendants the curse of labor and of death.\n\nBut in meting out this punishment, God in his mercy promised ultimately\nto redeem the children of Adam. From among them he chose one tribe who\nwere to be the custodians of this promise. And then in due time he\nsent his Son, born of a Virgin, to teach the gospel of salvation, and\nto expiate the sin of Adam upon a cross. [p116] Those who believed\nin this gospel and followed its commandments, would at the final day\nof reckoning enter into the heavenly Jerusalem; the rest would be\nconsigned to the devil and his everlasting torments.\n\nInto this marvelous story the whole of human history and of human\nknowledge could be fitted, and only in accordance with it could they\nbe understood. This was the key to existence, the answer to doubt,\nthe solace for pain, and the guarantee of happiness. But to many who\nwere in the audience it is now evident that they have seen a play, a\nmagnificent play, one of the most sublime ever created by the human\nimagination, but nevertheless a play, and not a literal account of\nhuman destiny. They know it was a play. They have lingered long enough\nto see the scene shifters at work. The painted drop is half rolled\nup; some of the turrets of the celestial city can still be seen, and\npart of the choir of angels. But behind them, plainly visible, are the\nstruts and gears which held in place what under a gentler light looked\nlike the boundaries of the universe. They are only human fears and\nhuman hopes, and bits of antique science and half-forgotten history,\nand symbols here and there of experiences through which some in each\ngeneration pass.\n\nConceivably men might once again imagine another drama which was as\ngreat as the epic of the Christian Bible. But like _Paradise Lost_\nor _Faust_, it would remain a work of the imagination. While the\nintellectual climate in which we live is what it is, while we continue\nto be as conscious as we are of how our own minds work, we could not\nagain accept naively such a gorgeous fable of our destiny. Yet only\nfive hundred years ago the whole [p117] of Christendom believed that\nthis story was literally and objectively true. God was not another\nname for the evolutionary process, or for the sum total of the laws of\nnature, or for a compendium of all noble things, as he is in modernist\naccounts of him; he was the ruler of the universe, an omnipotent,\nmagical King, who felt, who thought, who remembered and issued his\ncommands. And because there was such a God, whose plan was clearly\nrevealed in all its essentials, human life had a definite meaning,\nmorality had a certain foundation, men felt themselves to be living\nwithin the framework of a universe which they called divine because it\ncorresponded with their deepest desires.\n\nIf we ask ourselves why it is impossible for us to sum up the meaning\nof existence in a great personal drama, we have to begin by remembering\nthat every great story of this kind must assume that the universe\nis governed by forces which are essentially of the same order as\nthe promptings of the human heart. Otherwise it would not greatly\ninterest us. A story, however plausible, about beings who had no human\nqualities, a plot which unfolded itself as utterly indifferent to our\nown personal fate, would not serve as a substitute for the Christian\nepic. This is the trouble with the so-called religion of creative\nevolution: even if it is true, which is far from certain, it is so\nprofoundly indifferent to our individual fate, that it leaves most men\ncold. For there are very few who are so mystical as to be able to sink\nthemselves wholly in the hidden purposes of an unconscious natural\nforce. This, too, as the Catholic Church has always insisted, is the\ntrouble with pantheistic religion, for if everything is [p118] divine,\nthen nothing is peculiarly divine, and all the distinctions of good and\nevil are meaningless.\n\nThe story must not only assume that human ideals inspire the whole\ncreation, but it must contain guarantees that this is so. There must\nbe no doubt about it. Science must confirm the moral assumptions; the\nhighest and most certain available knowledge must clinch the conviction\nthat the story unfolded is the secret of life.\n\n\n3. _Earmarks of Truth_\n\nReligious teachers who were close to the people have always understood\nthat they must perform wonders if they were to make their God\nconvincing and their own title to speak for him valid. The writer of\nExodus, for example, was quite clear in his mind about this:\n\n And Moses answered and said, But, behold, they will not believe me,\n nor hearken unto my voice: for they will say, The Lord hath not\n appeared unto thee.\n\n And the Lord said unto him, What is that in thine hand? And he\n said, A rod.\n\n And he said, Cast it on the ground. And he cast it on the ground,\n and it became a serpent; and Moses fled from before it.\n\n And the Lord said unto Moses, Put forth thine hand, and take it by\n the tail. And he put forth his hand, and caught it, and it became a\n rod in his hand:\n\n That they may believe that the Lord God of their fathers, the God\n of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, hath appeared\n unto thee.\n\nEven in the wildest flights of his fancy the common man is almost\nalways primarily interested in the prosaic consequences. If he believes\nin fairies he is not likely [p119] to imagine them as spirits\ninhabiting a world apart, but as little people who do things which\naffect his own affairs. The common man is an unconscious pragmatist:\nhe believes because he is satisfied that his beliefs change the course\nof events. He would not be inspired to worship a god who merely\ncontemplates the universe, or a god who created it once, and then\nrested, while its destiny unfolds itself inexorably. To the plain\npeople religion is not disinterested speculation but a very practical\nmatter. It is concerned with their well-being in this world and in an\nequally concrete world hereafter. They have wanted to know the will of\nGod because they had to know it if they were to put themselves right\nwith the king of creation.\n\nThose who professed to know God\u2019s will had to demonstrate that they\nknew it. This was the function of miracles. They were tangible evidence\nthat the religious teacher had a true commission. \u201cThen those men, when\nthey had seen the miracle (of the loaves and the fishes) that Jesus\ndid, said, This is of a truth that prophet that should come into the\nworld.\u201d When Jesus raised the dead man at the gate of the city of Nain,\n\u201cthere came a fear on all: and they glorified God, saying, That a great\nprophet is risen up among us; and, That God hath visited his people.\u201d\nThe most authoritative Catholic theologians teach that miracles \u201care\nnot wrought to show the internal truth of the doctrines, but only to\ngive _manifest_ reasons why we should accept the doctrines.\u201d They are\n\u201cessentially an appeal to knowledge,\u201d demonstrations, one might almost\nsay divine experiments, by which men are enabled to know the glory and\nthe providence of God. [p120]\n\nThe Catholic apologists maintain that God can be known by the exercise\nof reason, but the miracle helps, as it were, to clinch the conviction.\nThe persistent attachment of the Catholic Church to miracles is\nsignificant. It has a longer unbroken experience with human nature than\nany other institution in the western world. It has adapted itself to\nmany circumstances, and under the profession of an unalterable creed it\nhas abandoned and then added much. But it has never ceased to insist\nupon the need of a physical manifestation of the divine power. For with\nan unerring instinct for realities, Catholic churchmen have understood\nthat there is a residuum of prosaic, matter-of-factness, of a need to\ntouch and to see, which verbal proofs can never quite satisfy. They\nhave resolutely responded to that need. They have not preached God\nmerely by praising him; they have brought God near to men by revealing\nhim to the senses, as one who is great enough and good enough and\nsufficiently interested in them to heal the sick and to make the floods\nrecede.\n\nBut to-day scientists are ever so much superior to churchmen at this\nkind of demonstration. The miracles which are recounted from the pulpit\nwere, after all, few and far between. There are even theologians who\nteach that miracles ceased with the death of the Apostles. But the\nmiracles of science seem to be inexhaustible. It is not surprising,\nthen, that men of science should have acquired much of the intellectual\nauthority which churchmen once exercised. Scientists do not, of course,\nspeak of their discoveries as miracles. But to the common man they have\nmuch the same character as miracles. They are [p121] wonderful, they\nare inexplicable, they are manifestations of a great power over the\nforces of nature.\n\nIt cannot be said, I think, that the people at large, even the\nmoderately educated minority, understand the difference between\nscientific method and revelation, or that they have decided upon\nreflection to trust science. There is at least as much mystery in\nscience for the common man as there ever was in religion; in a sense\nthere is more mystery, for the logic of science is still altogether\nbeyond his understanding, whereas the logic of revelation is the logic\nof his own feelings. But if men at large do not understand the method\nof science, they can appreciate some of its more tangible results.\nAnd these results are so impressive that scientific men are often\nembarrassed by the unbounded popular expectations which they have so\nunintentionally aroused.\n\nTheir authority in the realm of knowledge has become virtually\nirresistible. And so when scientists teach one theory and the Bible\nanother, the scientists invariably carry the greater conviction.\n\n\n4. _On Reconciling Religion and Science_\n\nThe conflicts between scientists and churchmen are sometimes ascribed\nto a misunderstanding on both sides. But when we examine the proposals\nfor peace, it is plain, I think, that they are in effect proposals\nfor a truce. There is, for example, the suggestion first put out, I\nbelieve, in the Seventeenth Century that God made the universe like\na clock, and that having started it running he will let it alone\ntill it runs down. By this ingenious metaphor, which can neither be\nproved nor disproved, [p122] it was possible to reconcile for a time\nthe scientific notion of natural law with the older notion of God as\ncreator and as judge. The religious conception was held to be true for\nthe beginning of the world and for the end, the scientific conception\nwas true in between. Later, when the theatre of the difficulty was\ntransferred from physics and astronomy to biology and history, a\nvariation was propounded. God, it was said, created the world and\ngoverns it; the way he creates and governs is the way described by\nscientists as \u2018evolution.\u2019\n\nAttempts at reconciliations like these are based on a theory that it\nis feasible somewhere in the field of knowledge to draw a line and\nsay that on one side the methods of science shall prevail, on the\nother the methods of traditional religion. It is acknowledged that\nwhere experiment and observation are possible, the field belongs to\nthe scientists; but it is argued that there is a vast field of great\ninterest to mankind which is beyond the reach of practical scientific\ninquiry, and that here, touching questions like the ultimate destiny\nof man, the purpose of life, and immortality, the older method of\nrevelation, inspired and verified by intuition, is still reliable.\n\nIn any truce of this sort there is bound to be aggression from both\nsides. For it is a working policy rather than an inwardly accepted\nconviction. Scientists cannot really believe that there are fields of\npossible knowledge which they can never enter. They are bound to enter\nall fields and to explore everything. And even if they fail, they\ncannot believe that other scientists must always fail. Their essays,\nmoreover, create disturbance and doubt which orthodox churchmen are\nforced to resent. For in [p123] any division of authority, there must\nbe some ultimate authority to settle questions of jurisdiction. Shall\nscientists determine what belongs to science, or shall churchmen? The\nquestion is insoluble as long as both claim that they have the right to\nexpound the nature of existence.\n\nAnd so while the policy of toleration may be temporarily workable, it\nis inherently unstable. Therefore, among men who are at once devoted\nto the method of science and sensitive to the human need of religion,\nthe hope has arisen that something better can be worked out than a\npurely diplomatic division of the mind into spheres of influence. Mr.\nWhitehead, for example, in his book called _Science and the Modern\nWorld_, argues \u201cthere are wider truths and finer perspectives within\nwhich a reconciliation of a deeper religion and a more subtle science\nwill be found.\u201d He illustrates what he means in this fashion. Galileo\nsaid the earth moves and the sun is fixed; the Inquisition said the\nearth is fixed and the sun moves; the Newtonian astronomers said that\nboth the sun and the earth move. \u201cBut now we say that any one of these\nthree statements is equally true, provided you have fixed your sense of\n\u2018rest\u2019 and \u2018motion\u2019 in the way required by the statement adopted. At\nthe date of Galileo\u2019s controversy with the Inquisition, Galileo\u2019s way\nof stating the facts was beyond question the fruitful procedure for the\nsake of scientific research. But at that time the concepts of relative\nmotion were in nobody\u2019s mind; so that the statements were made in\nignorance of the qualifications required for the more perfect truth....\nAll sides had got hold of important truths.... [p124] But with the\nknowledge of those times, the truths appeared to be inconsistent.\u201d\n\nThis is reconciliation through a higher synthesis. But I cannot help\nfeeling that the scientist has here produced the synthesis, and that\nthe churchmen have merely provided one of the ideas which are to be\nsynthesized. Mr. Whitehead argues in effect that a subtler science\nwould confirm many ideas that were once taken on faith. But he holds\nunswervingly to the belief of the scientist that his method contains\nthe criterion of truth. In his illustration the reconciliation between\nGalileo, the Inquisition, and the Newtonian physicists is reached if\nall three parties accept \u201cthe modern concept of relative motion.\u201d\nBut the modern concept of relative motion was reached by scientific\nthought, and not by apostolic revelation. To Mr. Whitehead, therefore,\nthe ultimate arbiter is science, and what he means by reconciliation is\na scientific view of the universe sufficiently wide and sufficiently\nsubtle to justify many of the important, but hitherto unverified,\nclaims of traditional religion. Mr. Whitehead, it happens, is an\nEnglishman as well as a great logician, and it is difficult to resist\nthe suspicion that he conceives the church of the future as enjoying\nthe dignities of an Indian Maharajah, with a resident scientist behind\nthe altar.\n\nA reconciliation of this kind may soften the conflict for a while.\nBut it cannot for long disguise the fact that it is based on a denial\nof the premises of faith. If the method of science has the last word,\nthen revelation is reduced from a means of arriving at absolute\ncertainty to a flash of insight which can be trusted if and when it\nis verified by science. Under such terms of peace, the religious\n[p125] experiences of mankind become merely one of the instruments of\nknowledge, like the microscope and the binomial theorem, usable now\nand then, but subject to correction, and provisional. They no longer\nyield complete, ultimate, invincible truths. They yield an hypothesis.\nBut the religious life of most men has not, until this day at least,\nbeen founded upon hypotheses which, when accurately stated, included a\ncoefficient of probable error.\n\n\n5. _Gospels of Science_\n\nBecause its prestige is so great, science has been acclaimed as a new\nrevelation. Cults have attached themselves to scientific hypotheses\nas fortune-tellers to a circus. A whole series of pseudo-religions\nhave been hastily constructed upon such dogmas as the laws of\nnature, mechanism, Darwinian evolution, Lamarckian evolution, and\npsychoanalysis. Each of these cults has had its own Decalogue of\nScience founded at last, it was said, upon certain knowledge.\n\nThese cults are an attempt to fit the working theories of science to\nthe ordinary man\u2019s desire for personal salvation. They do violence\nto the integrity of scientific thought and they cannot satisfy the\nlayman\u2019s need to believe. For the essence of the scientific method is\na determination to investigate phenomena without conceding anything to\nnaive human prejudices. Therefore, genuine men of science shrink from\nthe attempts of poets, prophets, and popular lecturers to translate\nthe current scientific theory into the broad and passionate dogmas\nof popular faith. As a matter of common honesty they know that no\ntheory has the kind of absolute verity which [p126] popular faith\nwould attribute to it. As a matter of prudence they fear these popular\ncults, knowing quite well that freedom of inquiry is endangered when\nmen become passionately loyal to an idea, and stake their personal\npride and hope of happiness upon its vindication. In the light of human\nexperience, men of science have learned what happens when investigators\nare not free to discard any theory without breaking some dear old\nlady\u2019s heart. Their theories are not the kind of revelation which the\nold lady is seeking, and their beliefs are relative and provisional to\na degree which must seem utterly alien and bewildering to her.\n\nHere, for example, is the conclusion of some lectures by one of the\ngreatest living astronomers. I have italicized the words which the dear\nold lady would not be likely to hear in a sermon:\n\n I have dealt mainly with two salient points\u2014the problem of the\n source of a star\u2019s energy, and the change of mass which must\n occur if there is any evolution of faint stars from bright stars.\n I have shown how these _appear_ to meet in the _hypothesis_ of\n the annihilation of matter. I _do not hold this as a secure\n conclusion_. I _hesitate even to advocate it as probable_, because\n there are many details which seem to me to throw _considerable\n doubt_ on it, and I have formed a strong impression that there\n must be _some essential point which has not yet been grasped_.\n I _simply_ tell it you as the _clue_ which at the moment we are\n _trying_ to follow up\u2014_not knowing whether it is false scent or\n true_. I should have liked to have closed these lectures by leading\n up to some great climax. But perhaps it is more in accordance with\n the true conditions of scientific progress that they should _fizzle\n out_ with a glimpse of the _obscurity_ which marks the frontiers of\n present knowledge. I do not apologize for the [p127] _lameness_ of\n the conclusion, _for it is not a conclusion_. I _wish I could feel\n confident that it is even a beginning_.\n\nThis great climax, to which Dr. Eddington was unable to lead up, is\nwhat the layman is looking for. We know quite well what the nature\nof that great climax would be: it would be a statement of fact which\nrelated the destiny of each individual to the destiny of the universe.\nThat is the kind of truth which is found in revelation. It is the kind\nof truth which men would like to find in science. But it is the kind of\ntruth which science does not afford. The difficulty is deeper than the\nprovisional character of scientific hypothesis; it is not due merely to\nthe inability of the scientist to say that his conclusion is absolutely\nsecure. The layman in search of a dogma upon which to organize his\ndestiny might be willing to grant that the conclusions of science\nto-day are as yet provisional. What he tends to misunderstand is that\neven if the conclusions were guaranteed by all investigators now and\nfor all time to come, those conclusions would still fail to provide him\nwith a conception of the world of which the great climax was a prophecy\nof the fate of creation in terms of his hopes and fears.\n\nThe radical novelty of modern science lies precisely in the rejection\nof the belief, which is at the heart of all popular religion, that\nthe forces which move the stars and atoms are contingent upon the\npreferences of the human heart. The science of Aristotle and of the\nSchoolmen, on the other hand, was a truly popular science. It was in\nits inspiration the instinctive science of the unscientific man. \u201cThey\nread into the cause and goal of the universe,\u201d as Dr. Randall has said,\n\u201cthat which alone [p128] justifies it for man, its service of the\ngood.\u201d They provided a conception of the universe which was available\nfor the religious needs of ordinary men, and in the _Divine Comedy_ we\ncan see the supreme example of what science must be like if it is to\nsatisfy the human need to believe. The purpose of the whole poem, said\nDante himself, \u201cis to remove those who are living in this life from the\nstate of wretchedness, and to lead them to the state of blessedness.\u201d\nMedi\u00e6val science, which follows the logic of human desire, was such\nthat Dante could without violence either to its substance or its spirit\nsay at the summit of Paradise:\n\n To the high fantasy here power failed; but already my desire and\n will were rolled\u2014even as a wheel that moveth equally\u2014by the Love\n that moves the sun and the other stars.\n\nThis is the great climax which men instinctively expect: the ability\nto say with perfect assurance that when the truth is fully evident it\nwill be seen that their desire and will are rolled by the love that\nmoves the sun and the other stars. They hope not only to find the will\nof God in the universe but to know that his will is fundamentally like\ntheir own. Only if they could believe that on the basis of scientific\ninvestigation would they really feel that science had \u2018explained\u2019 the\nworld.\n\nExplanation, in this sense, cannot come from modern science because\nit is not in this sense that modern science attempts to explain the\nuniverse. It is wholly misleading to say, for example, that the\nscientific picture of the world is mechanical. All that can properly\nbe said is that many scientists have found it satisfying to think\nabout the universe as if it were built on a mechanical model. \u201cIf\nI [p129] can make a mechanical model,\u201d said Lord Kelvin, \u201cI can\nunderstand it. As long as I cannot make a mechanical model all the way\nthrough, I cannot understand it.\u201d But what does the scientist mean by\n\u201cunderstanding it\u201d? He means, says Professor Bridgman, that he has\n\u201creduced a situation to elements with which we are so familiar that we\naccept them as a matter of course, so that our curiosity rests.\u201d Modern\nmen are familiar with machines. They can take them apart and put them\ntogether, so that even though we should all be a little flustered if\nwe had to tell just what we mean by a machine, our curiosity tends to\nbe satisfied if we hear that the phenomenon, say, of electricity or of\nhuman behavior, is like a machine.\n\nThe place at which curiosity rests is not a fixed point called \u2018the\ntruth.\u2019 The unscientific man, like the Schoolmen of the Middle Ages,\nreally means by the truth an explanation of the universe in terms of\nhuman desire. What modern science means by the truth has been stated\nmost clearly perhaps by the late Charles S. Peirce when he said\nthat \u201cthe opinion which is fated to be ultimately agreed to by all\nthose who investigate, is what we mean by the truth, and the object\nrepresented in this opinion is the real.\u201d When we say that something\nhas been \u2018explained\u2019 by science, we really mean only that our own\ncuriosity is satisfied. Another man, whose mind was more critical,\nwho commanded a greater field of experience, might not be satisfied\nat all. Thus \u201cthe savage is satisfied by explaining the thunderstorm\nas the capricious act of an angry God.... (But) even if the physicist\nbelieved in the existence of the angry god, he would not be satisfied\nwith this explanation of the thunderstorm [p130] because he is not so\nwell acquainted with angry gods as to be able to predict when anger\nis followed by a storm. He would have to know why the god had become\nangry, and why making a thunderstorm eased his ire.\u201d But even carrying\nthe explanation to this point would not be carrying it to its limit.\nFor there is no formal limit. The next scientist might wish to know\nwhat a god was and what anger is. And when he had been told what their\nelements are, the next man might be dissatisfied until he had found the\nelements of these elements.\n\nThe man who says that the world is a machine has really advanced no\nfurther than to say that he is so well satisfied with this analogy that\nhe is through with searching any further. That is his business, as long\nas he does not insist that he has reached a clear and ultimate picture\nof the universe. For obviously he has not. A machine is something in\nwhich the parts push and pull each other. But why are they pushing and\npulling, and how do _they_ work? Do they push and pull because of the\naction of the electrons in their orbits within the atoms? If that is\ntrue, then how does an electron work? Is it, too, a machine? Or is it\nsomething quite different from a machine? Shall we attempt to explain\nmachines electrically, or shall we attempt to explain electricity\nmechanically?\n\nIt becomes plain, therefore, that scientific explanation is altogether\nunlike the explanations to which the common man is accustomed. It does\nnot yield a certain picture of anything which can be taken naively as\na representation of reality. And therefore the philosophies which have\ngrown up about science, like mechanism or [p131] creative evolution,\nare in no way guaranteed by science as the account of creation in\nGenesis is guaranteed by the authority of Scripture. They are nothing\nbut provisional dramatizations which are soon dissolved by the progress\nof science itself.\n\nThat is why nothing is so dead as the scientific religion of yesterday.\nIt is far more completely dead than any revealed religion, because the\nrevealed religion, whatever may be the defects of its cosmology or its\nhistory, has some human experience at its core which we can recognize\nand to which we may respond. But a religion like scientific materialism\nhas nothing in it, except the pretension that it is a true account of\nthe world. Once that pretension is exploded, it is wholly valueless as\na religion. It has become a collection of discarded concepts.\n\n\n6. _The Deeper Conflict_\n\nIt follows from the very nature of scientific explanation, then, that\nit cannot give men such a clue to a plan of existence as they find\nin popular religion. For that plan must suppose that existence is\nexplained in terms of human destiny. Now conceivably existence might\nagain be explained, as it was in the Middle Ages, as the drama of human\ndestiny. It does not seem probable to us; yet we cannot say that it\nis impossible. But even if science worked out such an explanation, it\nwould still be radically different from the explanations which popular\nreligion employs.\n\nFor if it were honestly stated, it would be necessary to say first,\nthat it is tentative, and subject to disproof by further experiment;\nsecond, that it is relative, in that [p132] the same facts seen from\nsome other point and with some other purpose in mind could be explained\nquite differently; third, that it is not a picture of the world, as\nGod would see it, and as all men must see it, but that it is simply\none among many possible creations of the mind into which most of the\ndata of experience can be fitted. When the scientist had finished\nsetting down his qualifications, the essence of the matter as a simple,\ndevout man sees it, would have evaporated. Certainty, as the devout\ndesire it, would be gone; verity, as they understand it, would be gone;\nobjectivity, as they imagine it, would be gone. What would remain\nwould be a highly abstracted, logical fiction, suited to disinterested\ninquiry, but utterly unsuited to be the vehicle of his salvation.\n\nThe difficulty of reconciling popular religion with science is far\ndeeper than that of reconciling Genesis with Darwin, or any statement\nof fact in the Bible with any discovery by scientists. It is the\ndifficulty of reconciling the human desire for a certain kind of\nuniverse with a method of explaining the world which is absolutely\nneutral in its intention. One can by twisting language sufficiently\n\u201creconcile\u201d Genesis with \u201cevolution.\u201d But what no one can do is to\nguarantee that science will not destroy the doctrine of evolution the\nday after it has been triumphantly proved that Genesis is compatible\nwith the theory of evolution. As a matter of fact, just that has\nhappened. The Darwinian theory, which theologians are busily accepting,\nis so greatly modified already by science that some of it is almost as\nobsolete as the Babylonian myth in Genesis. The reconciliation which\ntheologians are attempting is an impossible one, because one of the\n[p133] factors which has to be reconciled\u2014namely, the scientific\ntheory, changes so rapidly that the layman is never sure at any one\nmoment what the theory is which he has to reconcile with religious\ndogma.\n\nYet the purpose of these attempts at reconciliation is evident enough.\nIt is to find a solid foundation for human ideals in the facts of\nexistence. Authority based on revelation once provided that foundation.\nIt gave an account of how the world began, of how it is governed, and\nof how it will end, which made pain and joy, hope and fear, desire and\nthe denial of desire the central motives in the cosmic drama. This\naccount no longer satisfies our curiosity as to the nature of things;\nthe authority which certifies it no longer commands our complete\nallegiance. The prestige, which once adhered to those who spoke by\nrevelation, has passed to scientists. But science, though it is the\nmost reliable method of knowledge we now possess, does not provide\nan account of the world in which human destiny is the central theme.\nTherefore, science, though it has displaced revelation, is not a\nsubstitute for it. It yields a radically different kind of knowledge.\nIt explains the facts. But it does not pretend to justify the ways of\nGod to man. It enables us to realize some of our hopes. But it offers\nno guarantees that they can be fulfilled.\n\n\n7. _Theocracy and Humanism_\n\nThere is a revolution here in the realm of the spirit. We may describe\nit briefly by saying that whereas men once felt they were living under\nthe eye of an all-powerful spectator, to-day they are watched only by\ntheir neighbors [p134] and their own consciences. A few, perhaps, act\nas if posterity were aware of them; the great number feel themselves\naccountable only to their own consciences or to the opinion of the\nsociety in which they live. Once men believed that they would be judged\nat the throne of God. They believed that he saw not only their deeds\nbut their motives; there was no hole deep enough into which a man could\ncrawl to hide himself from the sight of God; there was no mood, however\nfleeting, which escaped his notice.\n\nThe moral problem for each man, therefore, was to make his will conform\nto the will of God. There were differences of opinion as to how this\ncould be done. There were differing conceptions of the nature of God,\nand of what he most desired. But there was no difference of opinion on\nthe main point that it was imperative to obey him. Whether they thought\nthey could serve God best by burnt offerings or a contrite heart, by\nslaying the infidel or by loving their neighbors, by vows of poverty or\nby the magnificence of their altars, they never doubted that the chief\nduty of man, and his ultimate chance of happiness, was to discover and\nthen to cultivate a right relationship to a supreme being.\n\nThis was the major premise upon which all human choices hinged. There\nfollowed from it certain necessary conclusions. In determining what was\na right relationship to God, the test of rightness lay in a revelation\nof the putative experience of God and not in the actual experience of\nHis creatures. It was God alone, therefore, who really understood the\nreasons for righteousness and its nature. \u201cThe procedure of Divine\nJustice,\u201d said [p135] Calvin, \u201cis too high to be scanned by human\nmeasure or comprehended by the feebleness of human intellect.\u201d That was\ngood which man understood was good in the eyes of God, regardless of\nhow it seemed to men.\n\nThus the distinction between good and evil, including not only all\nrules of personal conduct but the whole arrangement of rights and\nduties in society, were laws established not by the consent of the\ngoverned, but by a king in heaven. They were his commandments. By\nobedience men could obtain happiness. But they obtained it not because\nvirtue is the cause of happiness but because God rewarded with\nhappiness those who obeyed his commandments. Men did not really know\nwhy God preferred certain kinds of conduct; they merely professed to\nknow what kind of conduct he preferred. They could not really ask\nthemselves what the difference was between good and evil. That was a\nsecret locked in the nature of a being whose choices were ultimately\ninscrutable. The only question was what he willed. Even Job had to be\ncontent without fathoming his reasons.\n\nThe moral commandments based upon divine authority were, in the nature\nof things, rather broad generalizations. Obviously there could not be\nspecial revelation as to the unique aspects of each human difficulty.\nThe divine law, like our ordinary human law, was addressed to typical\nrather than to individual cases. Nevertheless, for much the greater\npart of recorded history men have accepted such law without questioning\nits validity. They could not have done so if the rules of morality had\nnot, at least in some rough way, worked. It is not difficult to see\nwhy they worked. They were broad rules of conduct imposed [p136] upon\npeople living close to the soil, upon people, therefore, whose ways of\nliving changed little in the course of generations. The same situations\nwere so nearly and so often repeated that a typical solution would on\nthe whole be satisfactory.\n\nThese typical solutions, such as we find in the Mosaic law or the\ncode of Hammurabi, were no doubt the deposits of custom. They had,\ntherefore, become perfected in practice, and were solidly based upon\nhuman experience. In the society in which they originated, there was\nnothing arbitrary or alien about them. When, therefore, the lawgiver\ncarried these immemorial usages up with him on to Sinai, and brought\nthem down again graven on tablets of stone, the rationality of the\nrevelation was self-evident. It appeared to be arbitrary only when a\nradical change in the way of life dissolved the premises and the usages\nupon which the authoritative code was established.\n\nThat dissolution has proceeded to great lengths within the centuries\nwhich we call modern. The crisis was reached, it seems, during the\nEighteenth Century, and in the teaching of Immanuel Kant it was made\nmanifest to the educated classes of the western world. Kant argued\nin the _Critique of Pure Reason_ that the existence of God cannot be\ndemonstrated. He then insisted that without belief in God, freedom, and\nimmortality, there was no valid and true morality. So he insisted that\nGod must exist to justify morality. This highly sophisticated doctrine\nmarks the end of simple theism in modern thought. For Kant\u2019s proof of\nthe existence of God was nothing but a plea that God ought to exist,\nand the whole temper [p137] of the modern intellect is to deny that\nwhat ought to be true necessarily is true.\n\nInsofar as men have now lost their belief in a heavenly king, they have\nto find some other ground for their moral choices than the revelation\nof his will. It follows necessarily that they must find the tests of\nrighteousness wholly within human experience. The difference between\ngood and evil must be a difference which men themselves recognize and\nunderstand. Happiness cannot be the reward of virtue; it must be the\nintelligible consequence of it. It follows, too, that virtue cannot be\ncommanded; it must be willed out of personal conviction and desire.\nSuch a morality may properly be called humanism, for it is centered not\nin superhuman but in human nature. When men can no longer be theists,\nthey must, if they are civilized, become humanists. They must live\nby the premise that whatever is righteous is inherently desirable\nbecause experience will demonstrate its desirability. They must live,\ntherefore, in the belief that the duty of man is not to make his\nwill conform to the will of God but to the surest knowledge of the\nconditions of human happiness.\n\nIt is evident that a morality of humanism presents far greater\ndifficulties than a morality premised on theism. For one thing, it\nis put immediately to a much severer test. When Kant, for example,\nargued that theism was necessary to morality, his chief reason was that\nsince the good man is often defeated on earth, he must be permitted to\nbelieve in a superhuman power which is \u201cable to connect happiness and\nmorality in exact harmony with each other.\u201d Humanism is not provided\nwith such [p138] reserves of moral credit; it cannot claim all\neternity in which its promises may be fulfilled. Unless its wisdom in\nany sphere of life is demonstrated within a reasonable time in actual\nexperience, there is nothing to commend it.\n\nA morality of humanism labors under even greater difficulties.\nIt appears in a complex and changing society; it is an attitude\ntoward life to which rational men necessarily turn whenever their\ncircumstances have rendered a theistic view incredible. It is just\nbecause the simpler rules no longer work that the subtler choices\nof humanism present themselves. These choices have to be made under\nconditions, like those which prevail in modern urban societies, where\nthe extreme complexity of rapidly changing human relations makes it\nvery difficult to foresee all the consequences of any moral decision.\nThe men who must make their decisions are skeptical by habit and\nunsettled amidst the novelties of their surroundings.\n\nThe teachers of a theistic morality, when the audience is devout, have\nonly to fortify the impression that the rules of conduct are certified\nby God the invisible King. The ethical problem for the common man is\nto recognize the well-known credentials of his teachers. In practice\nhe has merely to decide whether the priest, the prince, and the\nelders, are what they claim to be. When he has done that, there are no\nradical questions to be asked. But the teachers of humanism have no\ncredentials. Their teaching is not certified. They have to prove their\ncase by the test of mundane experience. They speak with no authority,\nwhich can be scrutinized once and for all, and then forever accepted.\nThey can proclaim no rule of conduct with certainty, for they have no\ninherent personal [p139] authority and they cannot be altogether sure\nthey are right. They cannot command. They cannot truly exhort. They\ncan only inquire, infer, and persuade. They have only human insight\nto guide them and those to whom they speak must in the end themselves\naccept the full responsibility for the consequences of any advice they\nchoose to accept.\n\nYet with all its difficulties, it is to a morality of humanism that men\nmust turn when the ancient order of things dissolves. When they find\nthat they no longer believe seriously and deeply that they are governed\nfrom heaven, there is anarchy in their souls until by conscious effort\nthey find ways of governing themselves.\n\n\n\n\n PART II [p141]\n\n THE FOUNDATIONS OF HUMANISM\n\n _The stone which the builders rejected,\n The same is become the head of the corner?_\n Luke XX, 17.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION [p143]\n\n\nThe upshot of the discussion to this point is that modernity destroys\nthe disposition to believe that behind the visible world of physical\nobjects and human institutions there is a supernatural kingdom from\nwhich ultimately all laws, all judgments, all rewards, all punishments,\nand all compensations are derived. To those who believe that this\nkingdom exists the modern spirit is nothing less than treason to God.\n\nThe popular religion rests on the belief that the kingdom is an\nobjective fact, as certain, as definite, and as real, in spite of\nits invisibility, as the British Empire; it holds that this faith\nis justified by overwhelming evidence supplied by revelation,\nunimpeachable testimony, and incontrovertible signs. To the modern\nspirit, on the other hand, the belief in this kingdom must necessarily\nseem a grandiose fiction projected by human needs and desires. The\nhumanistic view is that the popular faith does not prove the existence\nof its objects, but only the presence of a desire that such objects\nshould exist. The popular religion, in short, rests on a theory which,\nif true, is an extension of physics and of history; the humanistic view\nrests on human psychology and an interpretation of human experience.\n\nIt follows, then, that in exploring the modern problem it is necessary\nconsciously and clearly to make a choice between these diametrically\nopposite points of view. The [p144] choice is fundamental and\nexclusive, and it determines all the conclusions which follow. For\nobviously to one who believes that the world is a theocracy, the\nproblem is how to bring the strayed and rebellious masses of mankind\nback to their obedience, how to restore the lost provinces of God the\ninvisible King. But to one who takes the humanistic view the problem is\nhow mankind, deprived of the great fictions, is to come to terms with\nthe needs which created those fictions.\n\nIn this book I take the humanistic view because, in the kind of world I\nhappen to live in, I can do no other.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII [p145]\n\nGOLDEN MEMORIES\n\n\nIt will be granted, I suppose, that there would be no need for\ncertainty about the plan and government of the universe if, as a\nmatter of course, all our desires were regularly fulfilled. In a world\nwhere no man desired what he could not have, there would be no need to\nregulate human conduct and therefore no need for morality. In a world\nwhere each man could have what he desired, there would be no need for\nconsolation and for reassuring guarantees that justice, mercy, and love\nwill ultimately prevail. In a world where there was perfect adjustment\nbetween human desires and their environment, there would be no problem\nof evil: we should not know the meaning of sin, sorrow, crime, fear,\nfrustration, pain, and emptiness. We do not live in such a well-ordered\nworld. But we can imagine it by making either of two assumptions:\nthat we have ceased to desire anything which causes evil, or that\nomnipotence fulfills all our desires. The first of these assumptions\nleads to the Nirvana of the Buddhists, where all craving has ceased and\nthere is perfect peace. The second leads to the heaven of all popular\nreligions, to some paradise like that of Mohammed perhaps where, as Mr.\nSantayana says, men may \u201csit in well-watered gardens, clad in green\nsilks, drinking delicious sherbets, and transfixed by the gazelle-like\nglance of some young girl, all innocence and fire.\u201d [p146]\n\nAmong educated men it has always been difficult to imagine a heaven\nof fulfilled desires. For since no two persons have exactly the\nsame desires, one man\u2019s imagination of heaven may not suit another\nman\u2019s. In general, the attempts which have been made to picture the\nChristian heaven reflect the temperaments of highly contemplative\nspirits, and it is customary nowadays to say that this heaven would\nbe a most uninteresting place. No doubt it would be to those who are\nnot contemplative. But the objectors have missed the main point, which\nis that no one is supposed to pass through the pearly gates who is\nnot suited to dwell in Paradise. That is what St. Peter is there for,\nto see that the unfit do not enter; the other places, Purgatory and\nthe Inferno, are available to those spirits who could not be happy in\nHeaven. There are, by definition, no uncongenial spirits in Heaven.\nThere were once, but Satan and his followers were thrown out headlong,\nand they now live in places which are suited to their temperaments. A\ndevout man may quite properly, therefore, advise those who do not think\nthey would enjoy Heaven to go to Hell.\n\nThe attempt to imagine a heaven is an attempt to conceive a world in\nwhich the disorders of human desire no longer exist. Now it is in their\nprayers that men have sought to come to terms with their disorders, and\ntheir prayers reveal most concretely how much the hunger for certainty\nand for help is a hunger for the fulfillment of desire. For prayer,\nsays Father Wynne, is \u201cthe expression of our desires to God whether\nfor ourselves or for others.\u201d In the higher reaches of religion \u201cthe\nexpression is not intended to instruct or direct God what to do, but to\n[p147] appeal to His goodness for the things we need; and the appeal\nis necessary, not because He is ignorant of our needs or sentiments,\nbut to give definite form to our desires, to concentrate our whole\nattention on what we have to recommend to Him, to help us appreciate\nour close personal relation with Him.\u201d But in order to know what to\npray for, we need grace, that is to say, God Himself must teach us what\nto ask Him for. We can be sure that we should pray for salvation, but\nin particular we need guidance from God \u201cto know the special means that\nwill most help us in any particular need.\u201d But besides the spiritual\nobjects of prayer \u201cwe are to ask also for temporal things, our daily\nbread and all that it implies, health, strength, and other worldly or\ntemporal goods ...\u201d; we are to pray also for escape from evils, \u201cthe\npenalty of our sins, the dangers of temptation, and every manner of\nphysical or spiritual affliction.\u201d\n\nThere has, however, always been a logical difficulty about offering\npetitions to an all-wise and all-powerful Providence. Thus in the\n_Dialogue of Dives and Pauper_, which was published in 1493, the\nquestion is put: \u201cWhy pray we to God with oure mouth sithe he knowyth\nalle oure thoughte, all our desire, al our wyl and what us nedeth?\u201d\nTo this question the only answer which was not evasive came from the\nmystics who led a life of contemplation. Prayer, they said, is not mere\npetition; it is communion with God. It is not because prayer gives a\nman what he wants, but because it \u201cones the soul to God,\u201d that it is\nrational and necessary. This, too, is the conception of prayer held by\na liberal pastor like Dr. Fosdick who looks with scorn upon \u201cclamorous\npetition to an [p148] anthropomorphic God\u201d and says that \u201ctrue prayer\n... is to assimilate ... (the) spirit which is God (that) ... surrounds\nour lives.\u201d The same idea, stated in somewhat more precise language,\nis set down by Mr. Santayana when he says that \u201cin rational prayer the\nsoul may be said to accomplish three things important to its welfare:\nit withdraws within itself and defines its good, it accommodates itself\nto destiny, and it grows like the ideal which it conceives.\u201d\n\nBut, of course, this is not the way the common man through the ages\nhas conceived prayer. In fact he must have prayed before he had any\nclear conception of what a prayer is or of whom it is addressed to.\nThus we are told that in Arcadia the girls invoked Hera by the title of\n\u201cHera the Girl,\u201d the married women prayed to \u201cHera the Married One,\u201d\nand the widows prayed to \u201cHera the Widow.\u201d Sometimes the prayer is a\nspontaneous expression of sorrow or of delight, a lyrical cry which\nhas no ulterior purpose and is addressed to no one. Sometimes prayer\nis a magical formula which compels the deity to listen and to obey.\nThe subject is both complicated and obscure. But this much at least is\nclear: along with elements which can be described only as spontaneous\nand lyrical, with traces of magic, and at times with a purely\ndisinterested desire to commune with God, simple people have looked\nupon prayer as \u201can instrument for applying God\u2019s illimitable power to\ndaily life.\u201d\n\nPopular discussion of prayer has often been extremely practical: \u201cHow\ncan prayer be made most efficient? Is it by ordinary Masses or by other\noffices? Is it by the elaboration or the multiplication of services?\u201d\nLady Alice [p149] West who died in 1395 ordered 4400 Masses \u201cin the\nmost haste that it may be do, withynne xiiii nyght next after my\ndeces.\u201d Thomas Walwayn who died in 1415 left orders for 10,000 Masses\n\u201cwith oute pompe whyche may not profyt myn soule.\u201d John Plot, however,\nwished his Masses said \u201cwith solempne seruise that ys for to sayn\nwyth Belle Ryngyng.\u201d There was debate as to whether prayers were most\neffective if said in Rome or in the Holy Land ... by certain priests\nrather than by others ... by the friars rather than by the priests ...\nwhether there were more potent prayers than the _Pater_ ... whether\nprayers should be addressed to the Father, the Son, or to St. Mary\n... whether St. Mary could be approached best through her mother, St.\nAnne....\n\nIt is not necessary to dogmatize by saying that prayer is magic, or\nsoliloquy, or communion, or petition for this and that, in order to\nsee that it is the expression of a human need. The quality of the need\nvaries. It may be anything from a desire for rain to a desire for\nfriendship with unseen spirits, but always it illustrates the saying\nthat \u201call men stand in need of God.\u201d\n\nIf we ask ourselves what we mean by \u2018need,\u2019 we must answer, I suppose,\nthat the resources of our own natures and the power we are able to\nexercise over events are insufficient to satisfy the cravings of our\nnatures. We must eat, but we cannot be sure that drought will not\ndestroy the crops. We are beset by enemies, and we are not sure we\ncan conquer them. We are threatened by earthquake, storm, and disease\nagainst which we cannot wholly protect ourselves. We become deeply\nattached to other persons. But they must die and we must die, and we\ncannot stay [p150] the doom. In brief, we find ourselves in a world in\nwhich our hopes are defeated.\n\nSomehow we are so constituted that we demand the impossible. There is\nin us somewhere an intimation that we ought not to be defeated. But\nwhere did this intimation come from? How is it that we are not born\nsatisfied with our mortality, content with our fate? Why is it that the\nnormal fate of man seems to us abnormal? What is there in the back of\nour heads which keeps telling us that life as we find it is not what it\nought to be?\n\nThe biologist might answer, I suppose, that this craving for a\ndifferent kind of world is simply our own consciousness of that blind\npush of natural forces which create the variations on which natural\nselection works to produce the survival of the fittest. Nature, he\nmight say, is wholly indifferent to the outcries of the individual;\nthis vast process of which each of us is so insignificant a part,\nkeeps going because there is in all the parts a superabundant urging\nto go on. There is no human economy in it and no human order. Man, for\nexample, has far more sexual desire than is needed for the rational\npropagation of the species. But there is no rational plan in nature. It\nworks here, and everywhere, on the principle that by having too much\nthere will surely be enough; the seeds which do not germinate, the\nseedlings which perish, the desires which are left over, are no concern\nof nature\u2019s. For nature has no concern. There is no concern except that\nwhich we ourselves feel, and that is a mere flicker on the stream of\ntime, and will soon go out.\n\nWhile there is no way of gainsaying that this explanation is true,\nit is true only if we look at life from the particular point of view\nwhich the biologist adopts. If, however, [p151] we look inwardly\nupon ourselves, instead of surveying our species from the outside, we\nfind, I think, that this sense that the world ought not to be what it\nis seems to originate in a kind of dim memory that it once was what\nwe feel it ought to be. Indeed, so vivid is this memory that for ages\nmen took it to be an account of historical events; in absolute good\nfaith they constituted for themselves the picture of a Golden Age which\nexisted before evil came into the world. Hope was, therefore, a kind\nof memory; the ideal was to achieve something which had been lost. The\nmemory of an age of innocence has haunted the whole of mankind. It has\nbeen a light behind their present experience which cast shadows upon\nit, and made it seem insubstantial and not inevitable. Before this\nlife, there had been another which was happier. And so they reasoned\nthat what once was possible must somehow be possible again. Having once\nknown the good, it was unbelievable that evil should be final.\n\nEven after criticism has dissolved the beautiful legends in which it\nwas embodied, this memory of a Golden Age persists. It persists as an\nintimation of our own inward experience, and like an uneasy spirit it\nintrudes itself upon our most realistic efforts to accept the world\nas we find it. For it takes many shapes, which sometimes deceive us,\nappearing then not as the memory of a happiness we have lost, but as\nthe anticipation of utopia to come.\n\nIt is an intimation that man is entitled to live in the land of heart\u2019s\ndesire. It is a deep conviction that happiness is possible, and all\ninquiry into the foundations of morals turns ultimately upon whether\nman can achieve this happiness by pursuing his desires, or whether he\nmust first learn to desire the kind of happiness which is possible.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX [p152]\n\nTHE INSIGHT OF HUMANISM\n\n\n1. _The Two Approaches to Life_\n\nThe land of heart\u2019s desire is a place in which no man desires what he\ncannot have and each man can have what he desires. There have been\ngreat differences of opinion among men as to how they could best enter\nthis happy land.\n\nIf they thought their natural impulses were by way of being lecherous,\ngreedy, and cruel, they have accepted some form of the classical and\nChristian doctrine that man must subdue his naive impulses, and by\nreason, grace, or renunciation, transform his will. If they thought\nthat man was naturally innocent and good, they have accepted some one\nof the many variants of liberalism, and concerned themselves not with\nthe reform of desire but with the provision of opportunities for its\nfulfilment.\n\nThere are differences of emphasis among liberals, but they all accept\nthe same premise, which is that if only external circumstances are\nfavorable the internal life of man will adjust itself successfully.\nSo completely does this theory of human nature dominate the field of\ncontemporary thought that modern men are rarely reminded, and then only\nby those whom it is the fashion to ignore, that they are challenging\nthe testimony not merely of their maiden aunts, but of all the greatest\nteachers of wisdom. [p153] Yet if the modern man is an optimist on\nthe subject of his impulses, the reason is to be found less in his own\nself-confidence than in his distrust of men and in his intoxication\nover things.\n\nOwing to the dissolution of the ancestral order he has learned to\ndistrust those who exercise authority. Owing to the progress of science\nhe has acquired an unbounded confidence in his capacity to create\ndesirable objects. He is so rebellious and so constructive that he has\nstill to ask himself whether the free and naive pursuit of desirable\nobjects can really produce a desirable world. Yet in all the books of\nwisdom that is the question which confronts him. There it is written in\nmany languages and in the idiom of many different cultures that if man\nis to find happiness, he must reconstruct not merely his world, but,\nfirst of all, himself.\n\nIs this wisdom dead and done with, or has it a bearing upon the deep\nuneasiness of the modern man? The answer depends upon what we must\nconceive to be the nature of man.\n\n\n2. _Freedom and Restraint_\n\nIt is significant that fashions in human nature are continually\nchanging. There are, as it were, two extremes: at the one is the belief\nthat our naive passions are evil, at the other that they are good,\nand between these two poles, the prevailing opinion oscillates. One\nmight suppose that somewhere, perhaps near the center, there would be\na point which was the truth, and that on that point men would reach\nan agreement. But experience shows that there is no agreement, and\nthat there is no known point [p154] where the two views are perfectly\nbalanced. The fact is that the prevailing view is invariably a rebound\nfrom the excesses of the other, and one can understand it only by\nknowing what it is a reaction from.\n\nIt is impossible, for example, to do justice to Rousseau and\nthe romantics without understanding the dead classicism, the\nconventionalities, and the tyrannies of the Eighteenth Century. It is\nequally impossible to do justice to the Eighteenth Century without\nunderstanding the licentiousness of the High Renaissance and the\npolitical disorders resulting from the Reformation. These in their turn\nbecome intelligible only when we have understood the later consequences\nof the medi\u00e6val view of life. No particular view endures. When human\nnature is wholly distrusted and severely repressed, sooner or later it\nasserts itself and bursts its bonds; and when it is naively trusted, it\nproduces so much disorder and corruption that men once again idealize\norder and restraint.\n\nWe happen to be living in an age when there is a severe reaction\nagainst the distrust and repression practiced by those whom it is\ncustomary to describe as Puritans. It is, in fact, a reaction against a\ndegenerate form of Puritanism which manifested itself as a disposition\nto be prim, prudish, and pedantic. For latter-day Puritanism had become\na rather second-rate notion that less obvious things are more noble\nthan grosser ones and that spirituality is the pursuit of rarefied\nsensations. It had embraced the idea that a man had advanced in the\nrealm of the spirit in proportion to his concern with abstractions, and\ncults of grimly spiritual persons devoted themselves to the worship of\nsonorous generalities. All this associated itself [p155] with a rather\npreposterous idealism which insisted that maidens should be wan and\neasily frightened, that draperies and decorations should conceal the\nessential forms of objects, and that the good life had something to do\nwith expurgated speech, with pale colors, and shadows and silhouettes,\nwith the thin music of harps and soprano voices, with fig leaves and\na general conspiracy to tell lies to children, with philosophies that\ndenied the reality of evil, and with all manner of affectation and\nself-deception.\n\nYet in these many attempts to grow wings and take off from the things\nthat are of the earth earthy, it is impossible not to recognize a\nresemblance, somewhat in the nature of a caricature, to the teaching of\nthe sages. There is no doubt that in one form or another, Socrates and\nBuddha, Jesus and St. Paul, Plotinus and Spinoza, taught that the good\nlife is impossible without asceticism, that without renunciation of\nmany of the ordinary appetites, no man can really live well. Prejudice\nagainst the human body and a tendency to be disgusted with its habits,\na contempt for the ordinary concerns of daily experience is to be\nfound in all of them, and it is not surprising that men, living in an\nage of moral confusion like that associated with the name of the good\nQueen Victoria, should have come to believe that if only they covered\nup their passions they had conquered them. It was a rather ludicrous\nmistake as the satirists of the anti-Victorian era have so copiously\npointed out. But at least there was a dim recognition in this cult of\nthe genteel that the good life does involve some kind of conquest of\nthe carnal passions.\n\nThat conception of the good life has become so repulsive [p156] to the\npresent generation that it is almost incapable of understanding and\nappreciating the original insight of which the works of Dr. Bowdler and\nMrs. Grundy are a caricature. Yet it is a fact, and a most arresting\none, that in all the great religions, and in all the great moral\nphilosophies from Aristotle to Bernard Shaw, it is taught that one of\nthe conditions of happiness is to renounce some of the satisfactions\nwhich men normally crave. This tradition as to what constitutes the\nwisdom of life is supported by testimony from so many independent\nsources that it cannot be dismissed lightly. With minor variations it\nis a common theme in the teaching of an Athenian aristocrat like Plato,\nan Indian nobleman like Buddha, and a humble Jew like Spinoza; in\nfact, wherever men have thought at all carefully about the problem of\nevil and of what constitutes a good life, they have concluded that an\nessential element in any human philosophy is renunciation. They cannot\nall have been so foolish as Anthony Comstock. They must have had some\ninsight into experience which led them to that conclusion.\n\nIf asceticism in all its forms were as stupid and cruel as it is now\nthe fashion to think it is, then the traditions of saintliness and\nof heroism are monstrously misleading. For in the legends of heroes,\nof sages, of explorers, inventors and discoverers, of pioneers and\npatriots, there is almost invariably this same underlying theme of\nsacrifice and unworldliness. They are poor. They live dangerously. By\nordinary standards they are extremely uncomfortable. They give up ease,\nproperty, pleasure, pride, place, and power to attain things which are\ntranscendent and rare. They live for ends which seem to yield them\n[p157] no profit, and they are ready to die, if need be, for that\nwhich the dead can no longer enjoy. And yet, though there is nothing\nin our current morality to justify their unworldliness, we continue to\nadmire them greatly.\n\nIn saying all this I am not trying to clinch an argument by appealing\nto great names. There is much in the teaching of all the spiritual\nleaders of the past which is wholly obsolete to-day, and there is no\ncompulsive authority in any part of their teaching. They may have been\nas mistaken in their insight into the human soul as they usually were\nin their notions of physics and history. To say, then, that there is\nan ascetic element in all the great philosophies of the past is not\nproof that there must be one in modern philosophy. But it creates a\npresumption, I think, which cannot be ignored, for we must remember\nthat the least perishable part of the literature and thought of the\npast is that which deals with human nature. Scientific method and\nhistorical scholarship have enormously increased our competence in\nthe whole field of physics and history. But for an understanding of\nhuman nature we are still very largely dependent, as they were, upon\nintrospection, general observation, and intuition. There has been no\nrevolutionary advance here since the hellenic philosophers. That is why\nAristotle\u2019s ethics is still as fresh for anyone who accustoms himself\nto the idiom as Nietzsche, or Freud, or Bertrand Russell, whereas\nAristotle\u2019s physics, his biology, or his zoology is of interest only to\nantiquarians.\n\nIt is, then, as an insight into human nature, and not as a rule\nauthoritatively imposed or highly sanctioned by the prestige of great\nmen, that I propose now to inquire what meaning there is for us in the\nfact that men in the [p158] past have so persistently associated the\ngood life with some form of ascetic discipline and renunciation. The\nmodern world, as it has emancipated itself from its ancestral regime,\nhas assumed almost as a matter of course that the human passions, if\nthoroughly liberated from all tyrannies and distortions, would by their\nfulfilment achieve happiness. All those who teach asceticism, deny\nthis major premise of modernity, and the result is that the prevailing\nphilosophy is at odds on the most fundamental of all issues with the\nwisdom of the past.\n\n\n3. _The Ascetic Principle_\n\nThe average man to-day, when he hears the word asceticism, is likely\nto think of St. Simeon Stylites who sat on top of a pillar, of hermits\nliving in caves, of hair-shirts, of long fasts, chastity, strange\nvigils, and even of tattooing, self-mutilation, and flagellation. Or\nif he does not think of such examples, which the modern man regards as\npathological and for the psychiatrist to explain, the word asceticism\nmay connote some such attitude of mind as Herbert Asbury has recorded\nin the biography of his kinsman, Bishop Asbury, the founder of American\nMethodism, of whom a friend, who knew him well, wrote: \u201cI never saw\nhim indulge in even innocent pleasantry. His was the solemnity of an\napostle; it was so interwoven with his conduct that he could not put\noff the gravity of the bishop either in the parlour or the dining-room.\nHe was a rigid enemy to ease; hence the pleasures of study and the\ncharms of recreation he alike sacrificed to the more sublime work\nof saving souls.... He knew nothing about pleasing the flesh at the\nexpense of duty; flesh [p159] and blood were enemies with whom he\nnever took counsel.\u201d\n\nIf asceticism meant only this sort of thing, it might be interesting\nonly as a curiosity. But apart from the asceticism of primitive peoples\nand of the pathological, there is a sane and civilized asceticism which\npresents a quite different face. There is, for example, the argument of\nSocrates in the _Ph\u00e6do_ that the body is a nuisance to a philosopher in\nsearch of truth. It is, he says, \u201ca source of endless trouble to us by\nreason of the mere requirement of food; and is liable also to diseases\nwhich overtake and impede us in the search after true being: it fills\nus full of loves, and lusts, and fears, and fancies of all kinds, and\nendless foolery, and in fact, as men say, takes away from us the power\nof thinking at all. Whence come wars, and fightings, and factions?\nWhence but from the body and the lusts of the body? Wars are occasioned\nby the love of money, and money has to be acquired for the sake and in\nthe service of the body; and by reason of all these impediments we have\nno time to give to philosophy; and, last and worst of all, even if we\nare at leisure and betake ourselves to some speculation, the body is\nalways breaking in upon us, causing us turmoil and confusion in our\ninquiries, and so amazing us that we are prevented from seeing the\ntruth.\u201d\n\nPlato, in pursuing the argument in this particular dialogue, concludes\nthat because the body is such a nuisance the only pure philosopher is\na dead one. It is, perhaps, a logical conclusion. But in other places,\nparticularly in the _Republic_, Plato described a system of education\nwhich he thought would produce philosophers: the neophytes [p160]\nwere put through a stern discipline of hard living and gymnastics and\nlearning, were compelled to live in tents, to own nothing which they\ncould call their own, and to cut themselves off from all family ties.\n\nWhen the description of this regime provokes Adeimantus to remark\nthat \u201cyou are not making the men of this class particularly happy,\u201d\nSocrates is made to reply that while it is not his object to make any\nclass particularly happy, yet it would not surprise him if in the given\ncircumstances even this class were very happy. When we look further\nfor his meaning, we find it to be that the guardians are trained by\ntheir ascetic discipline to abandon all private aims and to find their\nhappiness in an appreciation of a perfectly ordered commonwealth. If\nwe understand this we shall, I believe, understand what civilized\nasceticism means. We shall have come back to the original meaning of\nthe word itself, which is derived from the Greek \u1f00\u03c3\u03ba\u03ad\u03c9, \u201cI practice,\u201d\nand \u201cembodies a metaphor taken from the ancient wrestling place or\npal\u00e6stra, where victory rewarded those who had best trained their\nbodies.\u201d An ascetic in the original meaning of the term is an athlete;\nand it was in this spirit that the early Christians trained themselves\ndeliberately as \u201cathletes of Christ\u201d to bear without flinching the\ntortures of their martyrdom.\n\nWhen asceticism is irrational, it is a form of totemism or fetich\nworship and derives from a belief that certain things are tabu or\nthat evil spirits can be placated by human suffering. Or without any\ncoherent belief whatsoever asceticism may be merely a perversion\narising out of that ambivalence of the human passions which often makes\npain, inflicted on others or self-inflicted, an exquisite [p161]\npleasure. But when asceticism is rational, it is a discipline of the\nmind and body to fit men for the service of an ideal. Its purpose\nis to harden and to purify, to suppress contrary passions, and thus\nto intensify the passion for the ideal. \u201cI chastise my body,\u201d said\nSt. Paul, \u201cand bring it into subjection.\u201d The Church, especially in\nthe earlier centuries, was compelled to fight continually against\nirrational asceticism, and as late as the Middle Ages, the Inquisition\npursued sects which regarded marriage as the \u201cgreater adultery\u201d and\npracticed self-emasculation. The rational view was the view of St.\nJerome: \u201cBe on your guard when you begin to mortify your body by\nabstinence and fasting, lest you imagine yourself to be perfect and a\nsaint; for perfection does not consist in this virtue. It is only a\nhelp; a disposition; a means, though a fitting one, for the attainment\nof true perfection.\u201d\n\nNow when St. Paul said that he had to bring his body into subjection,\nwhen Aristotle defined the barbarians\u2019 ideal as \u201cthe living as one\nlikes,\u201d when Plato made Socrates say that the soul is infected by\nthe body, when Buddha preached the extinction of all craving, when\nSpinoza wrote that because we rejoice in virtue we are able to\ncontrol our lusts, they accepted a view of human nature which is\nquite diametrically opposed to one which has had wide currency in our\ncivilization since the Renaissance.\n\nThis contrary view was undoubtedly provoked by the evils which came\nfrom the attempt to put the ascetic principle extensively into\npractice. Rabelais is by all odds the most convincing of the moderns\nwho revolted, for [p162] Rabelais not only talked about the natural\nman but actually knew him and delighted in him. Thus when Villers\nwrites to Madame de Sta\u00ebl that in her work \u201cprimitive, incorruptible,\nnaive, passionate nature\u201d is \u201cin conflict with the barriers and\nshackles of conventional life,\u201d we feel, I think, that neither Villers\nnor the lady would really have cared very much for primitive nature in\nall its naivete. The natural man that they were talking about lived\nin Arcady and his passions were as violent as those of a lapdog;\nthroughout the romantic movement, with rare exceptions, the talk about\npassion and impulse and instinct has this air of unreality and of\nneurotic confusion. There is not in it, as there is in Rabelais, for\nexample, an honest gusto for the passions that are to be liberated\nfrom the restraints imposed by that \u201crabble of squint-minded fellows,\ndissembling and counterfeit saints, demure lookers, hypocrites,\npretended zealots, tough friars, buskin-monks, and other such sects of\nmen, who disguise themselves like masquers to deceive the world.\u201d\n\nRabelais advised his readers that if they desired to become good\nPantagruelists, \u201cthat is to say, to live in peace, joy, health, making\nyourself always merry\u2014never trust those men that always peep out\nthrough a little hole.\u201d And in establishing the Abbey of Theleme,\nGargantua furnished it magnificently and barred the gates against\nbigots, hypocrites, dissemblers, attorneys, barristers, usurers,\ndrunkards, and cannibals; he invited in all noble blades and brisk\nand handsome people, faithful expounders of the Scripture, and lovely\nladies, proper, fair, and mirthful. \u201cTheir life,\u201d he says, \u201cwas spent\nnot in laws, statutes, or rules, but at their own free will and\npleasure. [p163] They rose from bed when they thought good, drank,\nate, worked, slept, when the desire came to them. None did awaken them,\nnone constrained them either to drink or eat, nor to do any other\nthing: for so had Gargantua established it. The Rule of their order had\nbut one clause: _Do What Thou Wilt._\u201d\n\nBut there was a catch in this rule. Not only had drunkards and\ncannibals been excluded in the first place, but Rabelais assures us\nthat those who were admitted, because they were \u201cfree, well born, well\neducated, and accustomed to good company, have by nature an instinct\nand spur which prompts them to virtuous acts and withdraws them from\nvice. This they call honor.\u201d And in another passage Rabelais limits the\npropensities of the natural man even more radically when he speaks of\n\u201ca certain gaiety of spirit _cured_ in contempt of chance and fortune.\u201d\n\nThere is always a catch in any doctrine of the natural goodness of man.\nFor mere passive obedience to impulse as it comes and goes, without\neffort to check it or direct it, ends in something like Alfred de\nMusset\u2019s Rolla, of whom it was said:\n\n It was not Rolla who ruled his life,\n It was his passions; he let them go\n As a drowsy shepherd watches the water flow.\n\nSo even Dora Russell at the crisis of her assault upon the Christian\ntradition advises us to \u201clive by instinct _and_ intelligence,\u201d which\nmust mean, if it means anything, that intelligence is to be in some\nrespects the master as well as the servant of instinct. That this is\nwhat Mrs. Russell means is abundantly plain by her fury at capitalists,\nimperialists, [p164] conservatives, and churchmen, whose instincts\nlead them to do things of which she does not approve. For like her\ndistinguished husband she trusts those impulses which are creative and\nbeneficent, and distrusts those which are possessive and destructive.\nThat is to say, like every other moralist, she trusts those parts of\nhuman nature which she trusts.\n\n\n4. _Oscillation between Two Principles_\n\nThese cycles of action and reaction are disastrous to the establishment\nof a stable humanism. A theocratic culture depends upon an assured\nview of the way in which God governs the universe, and as long as\nthat view suits the typical needs of a society made stable by custom,\nthe theocratic culture is stable. But humanism arises in complex\nand changing societies, and if it is to have any power to make life\ncoherent and orderly, it must hold an assured view of how man can\ngovern himself. If he oscillates aimlessly between the belief that he\nmust distrust his impulses and the belief that he may naively obey\nthem, it is impossible for him to fix any point of reference for\nthe development of his moral code, his educational plans, his human\nrelationships, his politics, and his personal ideals.\n\nIt is not hard to see, I think, why he oscillates in this fashion\nbetween trust and distrust. He cannot obey every impulse, for he has\nconflicting impulses within himself. There are also his neighbors with\ntheir impulses. They cannot all be satisfied, for the very simple\nreason that the sum of their demands far outruns the available supply\nof satisfactions. There is not room enough, there are not objects\n[p165] enough in the world to fulfill all human desires. Desires are,\nfor all practical purposes, unlimited and insatiable, and therefore any\nethics which does not recognize the necessity of putting restraint upon\nnaive desire is inherently absurd. On the other hand, it is impossible\nto distrust every impulse, for the only conclusion then is to commit\nsuicide. Buddha did, to be sure, teach that craving was the source\nof all misery, and that it must be wholly extinguished. But it is\nevident from an examination of what he actually advised his disciples\nto renounce, that while they were to be poor, chaste, unworldly, and\nincurious about the nature of things, they were to be rewarded with\nthe highest of all satisfactions, and were to be \u201clike the broad\nearth, unvexed; like the pillar of the city gate, unmoved; like a\npellucid lake, unruffled.\u201d For Nirvana meant, as Rhys Davids says, the\nextinction of a sinful, grasping condition of mind.\n\nConfronted by two opposed views of human nature, neither of which can\nbe taken unreservedly, moralists have had to pick and choose, deciding\nhow much or how little they would trust the different impulses. But\nthere is no measure by which they could decide how much of an impulse\nis virtuous, how much more is intemperate, and how much more than\nthat is utterly sinful. The attempts to regulate the sexual impulse\nillustrate the difficulty. Shall the moralist call the complete\nabsence of all conscious sexual desire virtue? Then he disobeys the\ncommandment to be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth. Shall\nhe then limit virtuous desire to that which is felt for a lawful\nmate? That implies that man and woman must mate with the first person\nfor whom they feel any sexual desire. [p166] But this cannot always\nbe arranged. The first person may be otherwise engaged. It becomes\nnecessary then to permit a certain amount of promiscuous, though\nunfulfilled, sexual desire in the process of sexual selection. And\nthen having somehow gotten past that difficulty, and with two persons\nsafely mated, a whole new series of problems arise out of the question\nof how far sexual satisfaction depends for its virtue upon its being\nthe successful means to, or more subtly still, the intended means\nto, procreation. I shall not pursue the matter further. The attempt\nto measure the degree in which impulse is to be permitted to express\nitself is obviously full of difficulties.\n\nThe moral problem remains utterly insoluble as long as men regard it as\nan attempt to separate their good impulses from their bad ones, and to\ndecide how much their good impulses are to be encouraged. Morality, if\nit is not fixed by custom and authority, becomes a mere matter of taste\ndetermined by the idiosyncrasies of the moralist.\n\n\n5. _The Golden Mean and Its Difficulties_\n\nAristotle faced this fundamental difficulty of humanism in the\n_Ethics_. He had expounded the theory that happiness is due to virtue,\nand that virtue is a mean between two extremes. There must, he said, be\nneither defect nor excess of any quality. We must, in brief, go so far\nbut no further in obedience to our impulses. Thus between rashness and\ncowardice the mean is courage; between prodigality and niggardliness\nit is liberality; between incontinence and total abstinence it is\ntemperateness; between ostentation and meanness it is magnificence;\nbetween empty boasting and little-mindedness it is magnanimity; between\n[p167] flattery and moroseness it is friendliness; between bashfulness\nand impudence it is modesty; between arrogance and false modesty, it is\ntruthfulness.\n\nSo runs the Aristotelian catalogue, and probably no code ever described\nso well the ideal of a gentleman. But having laid down his general\nprecepts, Aristotle, unlike most moralists, faced the difficulty of\napplying them. He recognized that it is one thing to accept the theory\nof a golden mean, and quite another to know where that mean lies. \u201cFor\nin each case it is difficult to find the mean ... thus it is easy, and\nin every man\u2019s power to be angry, and to give and spend money; but to\ndetermine the person to whom, and the quantity, and the time, and the\nmotive, and the manner, is no longer in every man\u2019s power, nor is it\neasy; therefore excellence is rare, and praiseworthy and honorable.\u201d\nFor while the mean between excess and defect is excellent, \u201cit is easy\nto miss a mark, but difficult to hit it.\u201d\n\nIf we look at the matter more closely in order to find out why moral\ncodes are, as Aristotle says, so hit and miss, we must, I think, come\nto the conclusion that there is an undetected fallacy in most moral\nthinking which renders moral insight abortive. It is that fallacy which\nI now propose to examine.\n\nA moral code like Aristotle\u2019s, which we may fairly regard as the\nrational prototype of all humanistic codes, consists of an inventory\nof good and bad appetites and of good and bad satisfactions. All\nconventional moralizing, which does not rest on the sheer fiat of\npublic opinion, custom, or God, assumes the existence of some such\ninventory of permissible desires and permissible fulfilments. But what\n[p168] does the making of such inventories mean? It means that good\nand evil are believed to be objective qualities of the natural world\nlike weight, dimension, and motion, that certain desires are inherently\ngood, certain others are inherently bad, and that the same is true\nof the different objects of desire. But this is nothing but what is\nknown as the pathetic fallacy. For surely each desire and each object\nas such, taken separately without relation to anything else, is as\ninnocent and as neutral as the forces that move the planets.\n\nThe categories of good and evil would not apply if there were no\nsentient being to experience good and evil. In such a world no object\nwould be any better or any worse than any other object; nobody talks\nabout good and bad electrons. All electrons are morally alike because\nno sentient being can tell them apart. Nor would the categories of\ngood and evil apply to a world in which each impulse was in a vacuum\nof its own. In such a world all our impulses would be like our\ndigestive tracts on a day when we do not know we have a stomach. If\nour impulses did not impinge upon each other and upon objects there\nwould be no problem of good and evil. Therefore the quality of good\nand evil lies not in impulses as such, nor in objects as such, but in\nthe relationship between impulses and objects. Therefore the making of\ninventories is fundamentally misleading.\n\nThere is another fallacy which is closely associated with this one.\nWe make lists of our impulses. A standard list which is much used\ncomprises the following: flight, repulsion, curiosity, pugnacity,\nself-abasement, self-assertion, parental, reproductive, gregarious,\nacquisitive, constructive. [p169] Whether this is a good list or not\nis neither here nor there. Through the ages men have been making such\nlists in the fond belief that they were analyzing the human character.\nNo doubt these terms describe something; we all recognize that these\nwords are the names of impulses that move us. But if we consider them\nfurther, we must also recognize that these impulses do not move all\npersons the same way, nor any one person the same way at all times in\nhis life and under all circumstances.\n\nIt is hardly necessary, I am sure, to labor the point very much. There\nis the instinct to be curious: it disposes one man to measure the\ndiameter of Betelgeuse when he is forty years old; when he was a child\nit disposed him to find out whether he could hang up a cat by its\ntail; that curious child\u2019s companion in the experiment on the cat was\ndisposed, when he grew up, to take much trouble in finding out how much\nincome tax his neighbor paid and whether his employer was faithful to\nhis wife. The parental instinct of one man is to launch his child on\nthe world as an independent human being; in another man the instinct\nmanifests itself as a determination to have children who will depend\nupon him and cater to him all his days long. So when we make lists of\nour impulses we really do not know enough about them to pass judgment.\nFor desires are complex, and their greatest complexity lies in the fact\nthat they change.\n\nThe objects of desire are no less complex. Take, for example, a jade\ngoddess. To a Chinese coolie it is an object with mysterious powers, a\npart of the mechanism which governs the universe. But the jade goddess\nis now in a Fifth Avenue shop window, and a policeman on his beat\n[p170] sees it. It is a green stone figure to him. The dealer inside\nknows that it is rare and is worth a thousand dollars. The collector\ncould enjoy it immensely if he possessed it. The connoisseur finds\nintricate pleasure in it as a work of art and an elaborate interest in\nit as a memento of a whole culture. The objects of desire, then, are\nnot simple things. We help to create them. We say that this man desires\nthat woman. But what, in fact, does he desire? A few moments of ecstasy\nfrom her body, something which a thousand women could give him equally\nwell, or an intimate union with so much of her whole being that for\nthat very reason she is unique to him? The quality of his passion and\nthe character of his mistress will depend in a very large degree on how\nmuch of her being he takes into account. It depends also, I hasten to\nadd, on how much there is to take into account.\n\nAt any moment in our lives we desire only those objects which we are\nthen capable of desiring and in the way we are then capable of desiring\nthem. But our desires do not remain fixed from the cradle to the grave.\nThey change. And as they change the desirability of objects about us\nchanges too. It is impossible, then, to make lists of good and evil\ndesires and of good and evil objects. For good and evil are qualities\nin the relationship between variable desires and variable objects of\ndesire.\n\nThe attempt to construct moral codes on the basis of an inventory\nis an attempt to understand something which is always in process of\nchange by treating it as a still life and taking snapshots of it. That\nis what moralists have almost always attempted to do. They have tried\nto capture the essence of a changing thing in a collection [p171] of\nfixed concepts. It cannot be done. The reality of human nature is bound\nto elude us if we look only at a momentary cross-section of it. To\nunderstand it, therefore, for the purposes of moralizing, we have to\nrevise our intellectual apparatus, and learn to look upon each moment\nof behavior not as the manifestation of certain fixed elements in human\nnature, but as a stage in the evolution of human nature. We grow up,\nmature, and decline; being endowed with memory and the capacity to form\nhabits, our conduct is cumulative. We drag our past along with us and\nit pushes us on. We do not make a new approach to each new experience.\nWe approach new experiences with the expectations and habits developed\nby previous experience, and under the impact of novelty these\nexpectations and habits become modified.\n\n\n6. _The Matrix of Humanism_\n\nThe conception of human nature as developing behavior is, of course,\naccepted by all modern psychologists. If they study the child they are\nbound to consider him as potentially an adult. If they study the adult\nthey are bound to regard him as originally a child. Abnormal psychology\nmakes sense only insofar as it can be understood as an abnormal\ndevelopment of the personality, regardless of whether that abnormality\nis traceable to pre-natal variations, to organic disease, or to\nfunctional disturbance. Folk psychology, whether or not one accepts the\ninteresting but speculative hypothesis that there is a parallel between\nthe development of the individual and the development of the race, is\nanother mode of investigating the evolution of behavior. The concept\nof development [p172] is thoroughly established in psychology as the\nmajor clue to the understanding of human nature.\n\nThe moralist, since he is concerned with human nature, is compelled\nto employ this concept. But he employs it somewhat differently than\nthe scientist. Being a moralist, he is interested in understanding the\nprinciples of behavior in order that he may understand the principles\nof right behavior. The psychologist, as such, is interested in the\ndevelopment of behavior, regardless of whether that development leads\nto misery or to happiness. He studies the various processes no matter\nwhere they lead. For in science the concept of development implies\nno judgment as to whether there is a good or a bad development. The\ndevelopment of an idiot and of a genius are on the same footing, and\nare theoretically of equal interest. But to the moralist the study of\ndevelopment is focussed on the effort to discover those processes of\ndevelopment which can be made to produce right relationships between\nthe individual and his environment, and by a right relationship he is\nbound to mean one in which there is an harmonious adjustment between\ndesires and the objects of desire. How often, and how nearly, it\nis possible for human beings to approximate such perfection is an\nunanswerable question. The proof of that pudding lies in the eating\nof it, and it is not the function of the moralist under humanism to\nguarantee the outcome. His function is to point out as clearly as it is\npossible to do so the path which presumably leads toward the good life.\n\nIn describing that path he is bound to depend upon the best available\ninsight into the processes by which good and bad adjustments are made.\nIn the present state of [p173] our knowledge this means that he must\nrely to a very large degree upon his own intuitions, commonsense, and\nsense of life. Great progress has been made in scientific psychology\nwithin the last generation, enough progress, I think, to supplement\nin important ways our own unanalyzed and intuitive wisdom about life.\nBut it would be idle to suppose that the science of psychology is\nin a stage where it can be used as a substitute for experienced and\npenetrating imaginative insight. We can be confident that on the whole\na good meteorologist can tell us more about the weather than even the\nmost weather-wise old sea captain. But we cannot have that kind of\nconfidence in even the best of psychologists. Indeed, an acquaintance\nwith psychologists will, I think, compel anyone to admit that, if they\nare good psychologists, they are almost certain to possess a gift\nof insight which is unaccounted for by their technical apparatus.\nDoubtless it is true that in all the sciences the difference between\na good scientist and a poor one comes down at last, after all the\ntechnical and theoretical procedure has been learned, to some sort of\nresidual flair for the realities of that subject. But in the study\nof human nature that residual flair, which seems to be composed of\nintuition, commonsense, and unconsciously deposited experience, plays a\nmuch greater role than it does in the more advanced sciences.\n\nThe uses of psychology to the moralist are, therefore, in confirming\nand correcting, in broadening and organizing, his insight into human\nnature. He is confronted, of course, with a great deal of confusion.\nThere is, to begin with, no agreed terminology, and therefore it is\noften almost impossible to know whether two psychologists [p174]\nusing the same word mean the same thing. Anyone who has stumbled about\namidst words like instinct, impulse, consciousness, the unconscious,\nwill know how confusing it all is. Psychologists are still using a\nliterary language in which the connotations of words tend to overwhelm\ntheir precise signification. To make the confusion greater there is\nthe elaborate system-making, the headstrong generalizing, and the\nfierce dogmatism which have produced the psychological sects. But all\nof this is characteristic of a young science, and if that is borne in\nmind, there is nothing disconcerting about it. The Eighteenth Century\nin dealing with the Newtonian physics, and the Nineteenth in dealing\nwith the Darwinian biology, went through a hullabaloo similar to\nthat which we are now going through in connection with behaviorism,\npsychoanalysis, and the so-called _gestalt-theorie_. Our only concern\nhere is to ask whether underneath all the controversy there is not some\ntrustworthy common ground on which the moralist can stand.\n\nI have already said that there was common ground in the concept of\ndevelopment. We can go further than that, however, and say, I think,\nthat with the help of psychology we are in position now to construct\nreliable and useful pictures, which confirm and correct our own\nintuitive understanding, of the infantile and of the mature approach\nto experience. We can, as it were, fix these two poles and regard the\nhistory of each soul as the history of its progress from infantilism\nto maturity. We are by no means able as yet to describe all the phases\nof development between these two poles; we know that progress is\noften temporarily interrupted, often completely [p175] arrested, and\nsometimes turned into a rout. But insofar as we are able to realize\nclearly what a fully matured character is like, the word progress has\na meaning because we know what we mean by the goal of moral effort.\nThat goal is maturity. If we knew all the stages in the development to\nmaturity, and how to control them, we should have an adequate science\nof education, we could deal successfully with functional disorders, we\nshould have a very great mastery of the art of life. For the problems\nof education are at bottom problems in how to lead the child from one\nstage of development to another until at last he becomes an harmonious\nand autonomous personality; the functional disorders of the character\nare problems in the fixations and repressions on the path to maturity;\nthe art of living is to pass gracefully from youth to old age, and, at\nlast, as Montaigne said, to learn to die.\n\nIt is this progress which we have to understand and imaginatively to\nconceive. For in conceiving it we conceive the matrix of humanism. In\nthis conception is to be found, I believe, the substitute for that\nconception of divine government which gives shape and form to the\ntheocratic culture. To replace the conception of man as the subject of\na heavenly king, which dominates the whole ancestral order of life,\nhumanism takes as its dominant pattern the progress of the individual\nfrom helpless infancy to self-governing maturity.\n\n\n7. _The Career of the Soul_\n\nIf our scientific knowledge of human nature were adequate, we could\nachieve in the humanistic culture that which all theologies have tried\nto achieve: we could found [p176] our morality on tested truths.\nThey would be truths about the development of human nature, and not,\nas in the popular religions, truth of physics and of history. But\nour knowledge of human nature is inadequate, and therefore, like the\nteachers of popular religion, we have in place of exact knowledge\nto invent imaginative fictions in the hope that the progress of\nscience will confirm and correct, but will not utterly contradict,\nour hypotheses. We can claim no more than this: for our understanding\nof human nature we are compelled to use our insight and the best\navailable psychological science of our age, exactly as Dante, for his\nunderstanding of the divine constitution of the universe, had to use\nthe accepted astronomy of his day. If our psychology turns out to be\nwrong, the only difference will be that we shall have to discard an\nhypothesis whereas our forefathers had to discard a revealed dogma.\n\nThe sketch which I am about to make of the progress from infancy to\nmaturity is to be taken, then, not as tested scientific truth, but as\nan imaginative construction. It will be, if you like, a modern fable\nwhich symbolizes rather than describes, as the primitive legends of the\nsun god symbolized, rather than described, the observed facts. Because\nit is an imaginative construction, the same meaning might be expressed\nin other ways and with many variations of detail. But though the\nfiction itself is of no consequence, the meaning it conveys is of the\nhighest consequence, and it is confirmed, as I shall attempt to show,\nnot only by ordinary insight but by the deepest wisdom of the greatest\nteachers.\n\nFreud, in a famous paper, has described the passage [p177] from\ninfancy to maturity as a transition from the dominion of momentary\npleasure and pain to the dominion of reality. This theory is not\npeculiar to psychoanalysis in any of its several schools, and it does\nnot depend upon the controverted points of doctrine. It is, in fact,\nmore or less of a commonplace in psychological thought. I am employing\nit here because a distinguished colleague of Freud\u2019s, Dr. S. Ferenczi\nof Budapest, has made an attempt to indicate the chief stages in the\ndevelopment between these two poles of experience. It is a most useful\nbit of speculation, and while I believe it could be duplicated in terms\neither of behaviorism or of the _gestalt-theorie_, I do not happen to\nhave come across any portrait of the idea which is as vivid as Dr.\nFerenczi\u2019s.\n\nThe first stage of human development, says Ferenczi, takes place in\nthe womb where the embryo lives as a parasite of the mother\u2019s body.\nAn outer world exists for it only in a very restricted degree; all it\nneeds for protection, warmth, and nourishment is assured by the mother.\nBecause everything is there which is necessary for the satisfaction\nof the instincts, Ferenczi calls this the Period of Unconditional\nOmnipotence.\n\nIt is, therefore, rather disagreeable and perhaps terrifying to be\nborn, for with the detachment from the mother and the \u201crude disturbance\nof the wish-less tranquillity he had enjoyed in the womb,\u201d the trouble\nof living begins, and evokes feelings which might perhaps be described\nas a longing to recover the perfect pre-natal adjustment. Nurses\ninstinctively recognize this longing, says Ferenczi, and as soon as\nthe infant expresses his discomfort by struggling and crying, they\ndeliberately create a situation [p178] which resembles as closely\nas possible the one he has just left. They lay him down by the warm\nbody of the mother, or wrap him up in soft, warm coverings, shield his\neyes from the light and his ears from noise. The illusion is more or\nless complete, for, of course, the infant is unaware of the activities\nof the nurse. For all he knows \u201chis wishes are realized simply by\nimagining the satisfaction of them.\u201d Ferenczi calls this the Period of\nMagical-Hallucinatory Omnipotence.\n\nBut this period does not last very long, since the nurse is unable\nto anticipate every desire that the growing infant feels. \u201cThe\nhallucinatory representation of the wish-fulfilment soon proves\ninadequate to bring about any longer a real wish-fulfilment.\u201d So the\ninfant has to give signals, and the more complicated his wishes become\nthe more signals he has to give. He begins to use a gesture-language,\nand if there is a willing nurse always at hand without too many\nnew-fangled notions, the child gets what he wants for the mere trouble\nof expressing his wants. Ferenczi calls this the Period of Omnipotence\nby the Help of Magic Gestures.\n\nBut as time goes on and as the number of his wants increase these\ngestures lose some of their magic. The number of the conditions\nincrease to which he has to submit. \u201cThe outstretched hand must often\nbe drawn back empty.... Indeed, an invincible hostile power may\nforcibly oppose itself to this gesture and compel the hand to resume\nits former position.\u201d At this point his sense of reality begins; the\nsense, that is to say, of something outside himself which does not\nsubmit to his wishes. \u201cTill now the \u2018all-powerful\u2019 being has been\nable [p179] to feel himself one with the world that obliged him\nand followed his every nod, but gradually there appears a painful\ndiscordance in his experiences.\u201d Because all experiences are no longer\nincorporated in the ego, Ferenczi calls this the Projection Phase.\n\nBut though the child has now begun to discern the existence of reality,\nhis sense of that reality is still quite imperfect. At first, perhaps,\nhe regards this outer world, though it opposes his wishes, as having\nqualities like his own. Ferenczi calls this the Animistic Period.\nThe child then begins to talk and to substitute for gestures actual\nstatements of what he desires. Provided he lives in a household bent on\nfulfilling his wants as soon as possible, he retains to a very great\ndegree the illusion that his wishes are sovereign. Ferenczi calls this\nthe Period of Magic Thoughts and Magic Words.\n\nFinally, if he matures successfully, he passes into the last period\nwhere he is no longer under the domination of the pleasure-principle:\nthe feeling of omnipotence gives way to the full appreciation of the\nforce of circumstances. Now unfortunately neither Freud nor Ferenczi,\nnor, so far as I know, any other psychoanalyst, devotes much attention\nto this last phase of maturity in which the sense of reality has become\nperfected. They are preoccupied with pathology; that is to say, with\nthe problems which arise out of a failure to attain this last stage in\nwhich the adult makes a complete adjustment with his world because his\nwishes are matured to accept the conditions which reality imposes.\n\nYet it is this last stage which plainly constitutes the goal of moral\neffect, for here alone the adult once again [p180] recovers that\nharmony between himself and his environment which he lost in that\nperiod of infancy when he first discovered that his wishes were no\nlonger sovereign. It is the memory of that earliest harmony which he\ncarries with him all his days. This is his memory of a golden age,\nhis intimation, as Wordsworth says, of immortality. But insofar as he\nexpects by an infantile philosophy to recover that heaven which lay\nabout him in his infancy, he is doomed to disappointment. In the womb,\nand for a few years of his childhood, happiness was the gratification\nof his naive desires. His family arranged the world to suit his wishes.\nBut as he grows up, and begins to be an independent personality, this\nprovidence ministering to his wishes disappears. He can then no longer\nhope that the world will be adjusted to his wishes, and he is compelled\nby a long and difficult process of learning and training to adjust his\nwishes to the world. If he succeeds he is mature. If he is mature, he\nis once again harmonious with the nature of things. He has virtue. And\nhe is happy.\n\nThe process of maturing consists then of a revision of his desires\nin the light of an understanding of reality. When he is completely\ninfantile there is nothing in the world but his wishes. Therefore, he\ndoes not need and does not have an understanding of the outer world.\nIt exists for him merely as gratification or denial. But as he begins\nto learn that the universe is not composed of his wishes, he begins to\nsee his wishes in a context and in perspective. He begins to acquire\na sense of space and to learn how much there is beyond his reach,\nuntil at last he realizes how small a figure he is on this earth, and\nhow small a part of the universe is the solar system of which [p181]\nours is one of the smaller planets. He has learned a lot from the\ndays when he put out his hand and reached for the moon. He begins,\nalso, to acquire a sense of time and to realize that the moment in\nwhich he feels the intense desire to seize something is an instant\nin a lifetime, an infinitesimal point in the history of the race. He\nacquires a sense of birth and decay and death, a knowledge that that\nwhich he craves, his craving itself, and he himself who feels that\ncraving, did not have this craving yesterday and will no longer have\nit to-morrow. He acquires a sense of cause and effect, a knowledge,\nthat is to say, that the sequences of events are not to be interrupted\nby his preferences. He begins to discern the existence of other beings\nbeside himself, and to understand that they too have their preferences\nand their wishes, that these wishes are often contrary to his own,\nand that there is not room enough in the world, nor are there things\nenough, to gratify all the wishes of everybody.\n\nThus to learn the lessons of experience is to undergo a transvaluation\nof the values we bring with us from the womb and to transmute our\nnaive impulses. The breakdown of the infantile adjustment in which\nprovidential powers ministered to every wish compels us either to flee\nfrom reality or to understand it. And by understanding it we create new\nobjects of desire. For when we know a good deal about a thing, know how\nit originated, how it is likely to behave, what it is made of, and what\nis its place amidst other things, we are dealing with something quite\ndifferent from the simple object naively apprehended.\n\nThe understanding creates a new environment. The more subtle and\ndiscriminating, the more informed and [p182] sympathetic the\nunderstanding is, the more complex and yet ordered do the things\nabout us become. To most of us, as Mr. Santayana once said, music is\na pleasant noise which produces a drowsy revery relieved by nervous\nthrills. But the trained musician hears what we do not hear at all; he\nhears the form, the structure, the pattern, and the significance of an\nideal world. A naturalist out of doors perceives a whole universe of\nrelated life which the rest of us do not even see. A world which is\nordinarily unseen has become visible through the understanding. When\nthe mind has fetched it out of the flux of dumb sensations, defined\nit and fixed it, this unseen world becomes more real than the dumb\nsensations it supplants. When the understanding is at work, it is as if\ncircumstance had ceased to mutter strange sounds and had begun to speak\nour language. When experience is understood, it is no longer what it is\nwholly to the infant, very largely to youth, and in great measure to\nmost men, a succession of desirable objects at which they instinctively\ngrasp, interspersed with undesirable ones from which they instinctively\nshrink. If objects are seen in their context, in the light of their\norigin and destiny, with sympathy for their own logic and their own\npurposes, they become interesting in themselves, and are no longer\nblind stimuli to pleasant and unpleasant sensations.\n\nFor when our desires come into contact with the world created by\nthe understanding, their character is altered. They are confronted\nby a much more complex stimulus which evokes a much more complex\nresponse. Instead of the naive and imperious lust of our infantile\nnatures which is to seize, to have and to hold, our lusts are offset\n[p183] by other lusts and a balance between them is set up. That is\nto say, they are made rational by the ordered variety with which the\nunderstanding confronts them. We learn that there are more things in\nheaven and earth than we dreamed of in our immature philosophy, that\nthere are many choices and that none is absolute, that beyond the\nmountains, as the Chinese say, there are people also. The obviously\npleasant or unpleasant thus becomes less obviously what we felt it\nwas before our knowledge of it became complicated by anticipation and\nmemory. The immediately desirable seems not quite so desirable and the\nundesirable less intolerable. Delight is perhaps not so intense nor\npain so poignant as youth and the romantics would have them. They are\nabsorbed into a larger experience in which the rewards are a sustained\nand more even enjoyment, and serenity in the presence of inescapable\nevil. In place of a world, where like children we are ministered to\nby a solicitous mother, the understanding introduces us into a world\nwhere delight is reserved for those who can appreciate the meaning and\npurpose of things outside ourselves, and can make these meanings and\npurposes their own.\n\n\n8. _The Passage into Maturity_\n\nThe critical phase of human experience, then, is the passage from\nchildhood to maturity; the critical question is whether childish\nhabits and expectations are to persist or to be transformed. We grow\nolder. But it is by no means certain that we shall grow up. The human\ncharacter is a complicated thing, and its elements do not necessarily\nmarch in step. It is possible to be a sage in some [p184] things and\na child in others, to be at once precocious and retarded, to be shrewd\nand foolish, serene and irritable. For some parts of our personalities\nmay well be more mature than others; not infrequently we participate in\nthe enterprises of an adult with the mood and manners of a child.\n\nThe successful passage into maturity depends, therefore, on a breaking\nup and reconstruction of those habits which were appropriate only to\nour earliest experience.\n\nIn a certain larger sense this is the essence of education. For unless\na man has acquired the character of an adult, he is a lost soul no\nmatter how good his technical equipment. The world unhappily contains\nmany such lost souls. They are often in high places, men trained\nto manipulate the machinery of civilization, but utterly incapable\nof handling their own purposes in any civilized fashion. For their\npurposes are merely the relics of an infancy when their wishes were\nlaw, and they knew neither necessity nor change.\n\nWhen a childish disposition is carried over into an adult environment\nthe result is a radically false valuation of that environment. The\nsymptoms are fairly evident. They may appear as a disposition to feel\nthat everything which happens to a man has an intentional relation to\nhimself; life becomes a kind of conspiracy to make him happy or to make\nhim miserable. In either case it is thought to be deeply concerned with\nhis destiny. The childish pattern appears also as a deep sense that\nlife owes him something, that somehow it is the duty of the universe to\nlook after him, and to listen sharply when he speaks to it. The notion\nthat the universe is full of [p185] purposes utterly unknown to him,\nutterly indifferent to him, is as outrageous to one who is imperfectly\nmatured as would be the conduct of a mother who forgot to give a hungry\nchild its lunch. The childish pattern appears also as a disposition to\nbelieve that he may reach out for anything in sight and take it, and\nthat having gotten it nobody must ever under any circumstances take\nit away. Death and decay are, therefore, almost an insult, a kind of\nmischief in the nature of things, which ought not to be there, and\nwould not be there, if everything only behaved as good little boys\nbelieve it should. There is indeed authority for the belief that we\nare all being punished for the naughtiness of our first grandmother;\nthat work and trouble and death would not really be there to plague us\nbut for her unhappy transgression; that by rights we ought to live in\nparadise and have everything we want for ever and ever.\n\nHere, too, is the source of that common complaint of the world-weary\nthat they are tired of their pleasures. They have what they yearned\nfor; yet having it they are depressed at finding that they do not care.\nTheir inability to enjoy what they can have is the obverse of the\ndesire to possess the unattainable: both are due to carrying over the\nexpectations of youth into adult life. They find themselves in a world\nunlike the world of their youth; they themselves are no longer youths.\nBut they retain the criteria of youth, and with them measure the world\nand their own deserts.\n\nHere, too, is the origin of the apparent paradox that as men grow older\nthey grow wiser but sadder. It is not a paradox at all if we remember\nthat this wisdom which [p186] makes them sadder is, after all, an\nincompleted wisdom. They have grown wiser as to the character of the\nworld, wiser too about their own powers, but they remain naive as to\nwhat they may expect of the world and themselves. The expectations\nwhich they formed in their youth persist as deeply ingrained habits\nto worry them in their maturity. They are only partially matured;\nthey have become only partially wise. They have acquired skill and\ninformation, but the parts of them which are adult are embedded in\nother parts of their natures which are childish. For men do not\nnecessarily mature altogether and in unison; they learn to do this\nand that more easily than they learn what to like and what to reject.\nIntelligence is often more completely educated than desire; our outward\nbehavior has an appearance of being grown up which our inner vanities\nand hopes, our dim but powerful cravings, often belie. In a word, we\nlearn the arts and the sciences long before we learn philosophy.\n\nIf we ask ourselves what is this wisdom which experience forces upon\nus, the answer must be that we discover the world is differently\nconstituted than we had supposed it to be. It is not that we learn more\nabout its physical elements, or its geography, or the variety of its\ninhabitants, or the ways in which human society is governed. Knowledge\nof this sort can be taught to a child without in any fundamental way\ndisturbing his childishness. In fact, all of us are aware that we once\nknew a great many things which we have since forgotten. The essential\ndiscovery of maturity has little if anything to do with information\nabout the names, the locations, and the sequences of facts; it is the\nacquiring of a different sense [p187] of life, a different kind of\nintuition about the nature of things.\n\nA boy can take you into the open at night and show you the stars;\nhe might tell you no end of things about them, conceivably all that\nan astronomer could teach. But until and unless he feels the vast\nindifference of the universe to his own fate, and has placed himself\nin the perspective of cold and illimitable space, he has not looked\nmaturely at the heavens. Until he has felt this, and unless he can\nendure this, he remains a child, and in his childishness he will\nresent the heavens when they are not accommodating. He will demand\nsunshine when he wishes to play, and rain when the ground is dry, and\nhe will look upon storms as anger directed at him, and the thunder as a\npersonal threat.\n\nThe discovery that our wishes have little or no authority in the world\nbrings with it experience of the necessity that is in the nature of\nthings. The lesson of this experience is one from which we shrink and\nto which few ever wholly accommodate themselves. The world of the child\nis a kind of enchanted island. The labor that went into procuring his\nfood, his clothes, his toys, is wholly invisible at first. His earliest\nexpectations are, therefore, that somehow the Lord will provide. Only\ngradually does the truth come home to him how much effort it costs to\nsatisfy his wants. It takes even longer for him to understand that not\nonly does he not get what he wants by asking for it but he cannot be\nsure to get what he wants by working for it. It is not easy to accept\nthe knowledge that desire, that prayer, that effort can be and often\nare frustrated, that in the nature of things [p188] there is much\nfumbling, trial and error, deadlock and defeat.\n\nThe sense of evil is acquired late; by many persons it is never\nacquired at all. Children suffer, and childhood is by no means so\nunreservedly happy as some make it out to be. But childish suffering\nis not inherently tragic. It is not stamped with the irrevocability\nwhich the adult feels to be part of the essence of evil. Evil for the\nchild is something which can be explained away, made up for, done away\nwith. Pretentious philosophies have been built on this fancy purporting\nsomehow to absorb the evil of the world in an all-embracing goodness,\nas a child\u2019s tears are dried by its mother\u2019s kisses. The discovery that\nthere is evil which is as genuine as goodness, that there is ugliness\nand violence which are no less real than joy and love, is one of those\ndiscoveries that the adult is forced somehow to accept in his valuation\nof experience.\n\nAnd then there is the knowledge, which only experience can give, that\neverything changes and that everything comes to an end. It is possible\nto tell a child about mortality, but to realize it he must live long\nenough to experience it. This knowledge does not come from words; it\ncomes in feeling, in the feeling that he himself is older, in the\ndeath of kin and friends, in seeing well-known objects wear out, in\ndiscarding old things, in awakening to the sense that there is a whole\nnew generation in the world which looks upon him as old. There is an\nintimation of immortality in our youth because we have not yet had\nexperience of mortality. The persons and the things which surround us\nseem eternal because [p189] we have known them too briefly to realize\nthat they change. We have seen neither their beginning nor their end.\n\nIn the last analysis we have no right to say that the world of youth is\nan illusion. For the child it is a true picture of the world in that\nit corresponds to, and is justified in, his experience. If he did not\nhave to grow older, it would be quite sufficient because nothing in his\nexperience would contradict it. Our sense of life as we mature is quite\ndifferent, but there is no reason to think that it has any absolute\nfinality. Perhaps if we lived several hundred years we should acquire\na wholly different sense of life, compared with which all our adult\nphilosophy would seem quite callow.\n\nThe child\u2019s sense of life can be called an illusion only if it is\ncarried over into manhood, for then it ceases to fit his experience and\nto be justified by events. The habits formed in a childish environment\nbecome progressively unworkable and contradictory as the youth is\nthrust out from the protection of his family into an adult environment.\nThen the infantile conviction that his wants will somehow be met\ncollides with the fact that he must provide for himself. The world\nbegins to seem out of joint. The child\u2019s notion that things are to be\nhad for the asking becomes a vast confusion in which words are treated\nas laws, and rhetoric as action. The childish belief that each of us is\nthe center of an adoring and solicitous universe becomes the source of\nendless disappointments because we cannot reconcile what we feel is due\nus with what we must resign ourselves to. The sense of the unreality of\nevil, which our earliest experience seemed to justify, [p190] becomes\na deep preference for not knowing the truth, an habitual desire to\nthink of the world as we should prefer it to be; out of this rebellion\nagainst truth, out of this determination that the facts shall conform\nto our wishes, are born all manner of bigotry and uncharitableness.\nThe child\u2019s sense that things do not end, that they are there forever,\nbecomes, once it is carried over into maturity, a vain and anxious\neffort to possess things forever. The incapacity to realize that\nthe objects of desire will last only a little while makes us put an\nextravagant value upon them, and to care for them, not as they are and\nfor what they can actually give us, but for what we foolishly insist\nthey ought to be and ought always to give us.\n\nThe child\u2019s philosophy rests upon the assumption that the world outside\nis in gear with his own appetites. For this reason an adult with a\nchildish character will ascribe an authority to his appetites which may\neasily land him in fanaticism or frustration, in a crazy indulgence\nor a miserable starvation. And to the environment he will ascribe a\nwillingness to conform to him, a capacity to be owned by him, which\nland him in all sorts of delusions of grandeur. Only the extreme\ncases are in the asylums. The world is full of semi-adult persons who\nsecretly nurse the notion that they are, or that by rights they ought\nto be, Don Juan, Cr\u0153sus, Napoleon, or the Messiah.\n\nThey have brought with them the notion that they are still as\nintimately attached to nature and to society as the child is to its\nhousehold. The adult has to break this attachment to persons and\nthings. His world does not permit him to remain fused with it, but\ncompels him to stand away from things. For things no longer obey\n[p191] his wishes. And therefore he cannot let his wishes become\ntoo deeply involved in things. He can no longer count on possessing\nwhatever he may happen to want. And therefore he must learn to want\nwhat he can possess. He can no longer hold forever the things at which\nhe grasps; for they change, and slip away. And therefore he must\nlearn to hold on to things which do not slip away and change, to hold\non to things not by grasping them, but by understanding them and by\nremembering them. Then he is wholly an adult. Then he has conquered\nmortality in the only way mortal men can conquer it. For he has ceased\nto expect anything of the world which it cannot give, and he has\nlearned to love it under the only aspect in which it is eternal.\n\n\n9. _The Function of High Religion_\n\nIn the light of this conception of maturity as the ultimate phase\nin the development of the human personality, we are, I think, in\na position to understand the riddle which we set ourselves at the\nbeginning of this chapter. I asked what significance there was for us\nin the fact that men have so persistently associated the good life\nwith some form of ascetic discipline and renunciation. The answer is\nthat asceticism is an effort to overcome immaturity. When men do not\noutgrow their childish desires, they seek to repress them. The ascetic\ndiscipline, if it is successful, is a form of education; if it is\nunsuccessful, it is an agonized conflict due to an imperfect education\nor an incapacity to grow up. By the same token, moral regulations\nimposed on others, insofar as they are at all rational, and not methods\nof exploitation or expressions of jealousy, are attempts to curb the\nsocial disorders [p192] which result from the activities of grown-up\nchildren.\n\nIt follows that asceticisms and moralities are at best means to an\nend; they are more or less inadequate substitutes for the educational\nprocess and the natural growth of wisdom. They are often confused\nwith virtue, but they are not virtue. For virtue is the quality of\nmature desire, and when desire is mature the tortures of renunciations\nand of prohibitions have ceased to be necessary. \u201cBlessedness,\u201d says\nSpinoza, \u201cis not the reward of virtue, but virtue itself; nor should\nwe rejoice in it for that we restrain our lusts, but, on the contrary,\nbecause we rejoice therein we can restrain our lusts.\u201d The mature\ncharacter may be attained by growth and experience and insight, or by\nascetic discipline, or by that process of being reborn which is called\nconversion; when it is attained, the moral problem of whether to yield\nto impulse or to check it, and how much to check it and how much to\nyield, has disappeared. A mature desire is innocent. This, I think, is\nthe final teaching of the great sages. \u201cTo him who has finished the\nPath, and passed beyond sorrow, who has freed himself on all sides,\nand thrown away every fetter, there is no more fever of grief,\u201d says a\nBuddhist writer.\n\n The Master said,\n\n \u201cAt fifteen I had my mind bent on learning.\n\n \u201cAt thirty, I stood firm.\n\n \u201cAt forty, I had no doubts.\n\n \u201cAt fifty, I knew the decrees of Heaven.\n\n \u201cAt sixty, my ear was an obedient organ for the reception of truth.\n\n \u201cAt seventy, I could follow what my heart desired, without\n transgressing what was right.\u201d\n\n[p193] To be able, as Confucius indicates, to follow what the heart\ndesires without coming into collision with the stubborn facts of life\nis the privilege of the utterly innocent and of the utterly wise. It is\nthe privilege of the infant and of the sage who stand at the two poles\nof experience; of the infant because the world ministers to his heart\u2019s\ndesire and of the sage because he has learned what to desire. Perhaps\nthis is what Jesus meant when he told his followers that they must\nbecome like little children.\n\nIf this is what he meant, and if this is what Buddha, Confucius, and\nSpinoza meant, then we have here the clue to the function of high\nreligion in human affairs. I venture, at least, to suggest that the\nfunction of high religion is to reveal to men the quality of mature\nexperience, that high religion is a prophecy and an anticipation of\nwhat life is like when desire is in perfect harmony with reality. It\nannounces the discovery that men can enter into the realm of the spirit\nwhen they have outgrown all childishness.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X [p194]\n\nHIGH RELIGION AND THE MODERN WORLD\n\n\n1. _Popular Religion and the Great Teachers_\n\nIn popular thought it is taken for granted that to be religious is to\naccept in some form or other the theocratic view that God governs the\nuniverse. If that assumption is correct then the orthodox who inveigh\nagainst the godlessness of contemporary thought and the militant\natheists who rejoice in this godlessness are both right when they\ninsist that religion is disappearing. Insofar as religion is identical\nwith a belief in theocracy, it has indeed lost much of its reality for\nmodern men.\n\nThere is little doubt, I think, that popular religion has been\nalways and everywhere theocratic in principle. If, then, we are to\ndefine as religion that which the overwhelming majority of mankind\nhave cherished, it would be necessary to concede at once that the\ndissolution of the belief in a supernatural government of human affairs\nis a dissolution of religion itself. But if that is conceded, then it\nis necessary to concede also that many whom the world recognizes as\nits greatest religious teachers were not themselves religious men. For\nit could be demonstrated, I think, that in the central intuition of\nAristotle, of the author of the Fourth Gospel, of Buddha, of Spinoza,\nto name only originating minds, the theocratic principle is irrelevant.\nNo one of these teachers held the belief, [p195] which is at the\nheart of theocratic religion, that the relationship between God and\nman is somehow analogous with that of a king to his subjects, that\nthe relationship is in any sense a transaction between personalities\ninvolving, however subtly, a quid pro quo, that God\u2019s will and the\nhuman will are interacting forces.\n\nIn place of the popular conception of religion as a matter of\ncommandments and obedience, reward and punishment, in a word, as a\nform of government, these great teachers placed their emphasis upon\nthe conversion, the education, and the discipline of the human will.\nSuch beliefs as they had about God were not in the nature of oaths of\nallegiance to a superior; their concern was not to placate the will of\nGod but to alter the will of man. This alteration of the human will\nthey conceived as good not because God commands it, but because it\nis intrinsically good for man, because by the test of experience it\nyields happiness, serenity, whole-heartedness. Belief is not, as it is\nin popular religion, an act which by creating a claim upon divinity\ninsures man\u2019s salvation; the force of belief, as Mr. Whitehead has put\nit, is in \u201ccleansing the inward parts.\u201d Thus religion becomes \u201cthe art\nand the theory of the internal life of man, so far as it depends on the\nman himself and on what is permanent in the nature of things.\u201d\n\nThe difference between religion conceived as the art and theory of\nthe internal life of man and religion conceived as cosmic government\nis the great difference between the religion of these great sages and\nthe religion of the multitude. Though in matters of this kind the\ndistinction is not always absolutely clear in every case, [p196] on\nthe whole it cannot be disputed, I believe, that the difference is real\nand of fundamental importance. If we observe popular religions as they\nare administered by ecclesiastical establishments, it is overwhelmingly\nplain that their main appeal rests upon the belief that through their\noffices the devout are able to obtain eternal salvation, and even\nearthly favors, from an invisible king. But if we observe truly, I\nthink, we shall see also that side by side with the popular religion,\nsometimes in open conflict with it, sometimes in outward conformity\nwith it, there is generally to be found in cultivated communities a\nminority to whom religion is primarily a reconditioning of their own\nsouls. They may be mystics like Eckhart, they may be platonists like\nOrigen or Dean Inge, they may be protestants like St. Augustine and\nLuther in certain phases of their thought, they may be humanists like\nErasmus and Montaigne; as of Confucius, it may be said of them that\n\u201cthe subjects on which the Master did not talk were: extraordinary\nthings, feats of strength, disorder, and spiritual beings.\u201d They may\nbe inside the churches or outside them, but in intention, in the inner\nmeaning of their religion, they are wholly at variance with the popular\ncreeds. For in one form or another they reject the idea of attaining\nsalvation by placating God; in one form or another they regard\nsalvation as a condition of the soul which is reached only by some kind\nof self-discipline.\n\nIt must be obvious that religion, conceived in this way, \u201cas the art\nand theory of the internal life of man,\u201d is not dissolved by what I\nhave been calling the acids of modernity. It is the popular religion\nwhich is dissolved. [p197] But just because this vast dissolution is\ndestroying the disposition to believe in a theocratic government of\nthe universe, just because men no longer find it wholly credible that\ntheir affairs are subject to the ordinances of a heavenly king, just\nbecause they no longer vividly believe in an invisible power which\nregulates their lives, judges them, and sustains them, their only hope\nof salvation lies in a religion which provides an internal discipline.\n\nThe real effect of modernity upon religion, therefore, is to make the\nreligion which was once the possession of an aristocracy of the spirit\nthe only possible kind of religion for all modern men.\n\n\n2. _The Aristocratic Principle_\n\nTo those who want salvation cheap, and most men do, there is very\nlittle comfort to be had out of the great teachers. Spinoza might have\nbeen speaking for all of them when he said:\n\n If the way which I have pointed out ... seems exceedingly hard, it\n may nevertheless be discovered. Needs must it be hard, since it is\n so seldom found. How would it be possible, if salvation were ready\n to our hand, and could without great labor be found, that it should\n be by almost all men neglected? But all things excellent are as\n difficult as they are rare.\n\nBut why, we may ask, is salvation by almost all men neglected? The\nanswer is that they do not desire that which they have never learned to\ndesire. \u201cOne cannot,\u201d as Voltaire said, \u201cdesire that which one does not\nknow.\u201d Can a man love good wine when he has drunk nothing but ginger\nbeer? Did we have naturally and instinctively [p198] a taste for\nthat which constitutes the happiness of the saved, we should already\nbe saved, and their happiness would be ours. We lack the taste, which\nis, I suppose, another way of saying what the theologians meant when\nthey spoke of original sin. To be saved, in the sense which the sages\nhad in mind, is by conversion, education, and self-discipline to have\nachieved a certain quality and harmony of the passions. Then the good\nlife is possible. But although men have often heard this said, and have\nread about it, unless in some measure they already desire it, the whole\nteaching remains mere words and abstractions which are high, cold,\nand remote. As long as they feel that the way to happiness is through\na will other than their own, and that somehow events can in this\nfashion be made to yield to their unregenerate wishes, in this world or\nanother, the wisdom of the sages will not touch their hearts, and the\nway which is pointed out will be neglected.\n\nWisdom will seem inhuman. In a sense it is inhuman, for it is so\nuncommon. Those who have it speak a strange language, of which the\nwords perhaps have a familiar sound, but the meaning is too high and\nabstract; their delights are strange delights, and unfathomable, like\na passion which we have never known. And if we encounter them in their\nlives or in their writings, they seem to us a mixture of grandeur\nand queerness. For they are at once more deeply at home in the world\nthan the transients who make up most of mankind; yet, because of the\nquality of their passions, they are not wholly of the world as the\nworldling understands it. But unless the worldling is entirely without\nthe capacity to transcend himself, he is [p199] bound in such an\nencounter to catch a glimpse now and then of an experience where there\nis a serenity he himself has never known, a peace that passes his\nunderstanding, an ecstasy exquisite and without regret, and happiness\nso clarified that it seems like brilliant and kindly light.\n\nYet no teacher has ever appeared in the world who was wise enough\nto know how to teach his wisdom to all mankind. In fact, the great\nteachers have attempted nothing so utopian. They were quite well aware\nhow difficult for most men is wisdom, and they have confessed frankly\nthat the perfect life was for a select few. It is arguable, in fact,\nthat the very idea of teaching the highest wisdom to all men is the\nrecent notion of a humanitarian and romantically democratic age, and\nthat it is quite foreign to the thought of the greatest teachers.\nGautama Buddha, for example, abolished caste within the religious\norder which he founded, and declared that the path to Nirvana was open\nto the lowest outcast as well as to the proudest Brahman. But it was\nnecessary to enter the order and submit to its stringent discipline.\nIt is obvious that Buddha never believed that very many could or would\ndo that. Jesus, whom we are accustomed to think of as wholly catholic\nin his sympathies, spoke the bitter words: \u201cGive not what is holy to\nthe dogs and cast not your pearls before swine.\u201d In Mohammedanism that\nwhich is mystical is esoteric: \u201call those emotions are meant only for\na small number of chosen ones ... even some of the noblest minds in\nIslam restrict true religious life to an aristocracy, and accept the\nignorance of the multitude as an irremediable evil.\u201d\n\nThere is an aristocratic principle in all the religions [p200] which\nhave attained wide acceptance. It is significant that Jesus was content\nto leave the governance of the mass of men to Caesar, and that he\ncreated no organization during his lifetime beyond the appointment\nof the Apostles. It is significant, because it shows how much more\nhe was concerned with the few who could be saved than with arranging\nthe affairs of the mass of mankind. Plato, who was a more systematic\nteacher than either Jesus or Buddha, did work out an elaborate social\norder which took account not only of the philosophers, but of all the\ncitizens of the state. But in that very attempt he rested upon the\npremise that most men will not attain the good life, and that for\nthem it is necessary to institute the laws. \u201cThe worthy disciples of\nphilosophy will be but a small remnant,\u201d he said, \u201c... the guardian ...\nmust be required to take the longer circuit, and toil at learning as\nwell as at gymnastics, or he will never reach the highest knowledge of\nall which is his proper calling.\u201d\n\nPerhaps because they looked upon the attempts as hopeless, perhaps\nbecause they did not know how to go about it, perhaps because they\nwere so wise, the greatest teachers have never offered their full\nwisdom to the multitude. Like Mr. Valiant-for-truth in _The Pilgrim\u2019s\nProgress_ they said: \u201cMy sword I give to him that shall succeed me in\nmy pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it.\u201d\n\n\n3. _The Peculiarity of the Modern Situation_\n\nBut because the teaching of the sages was incomprehensible, the\nmultitude, impressed but also bewildered, ignored them as teachers and\nworshipped them as gods. [p201] In their wisdom the people were not\ninterested, but in the legends of their power, which rumor created,\nthere was something understandable. And thus, the religions which have\nbeen organized around the names of great spiritual teachers have been\npopular in proportion, one might almost say, to the degree in which the\noriginal insight into the necessity for conversion and self-discipline\nhas been reduced to a system of commands and promises which the common\nman can understand.\n\nFor popular religion is suited to the capacities of the unconverted.\nThe adherents of a popular religion necessarily include an enormous\nnumber of people who are too young, or too feeble, too dull or too\nviolent, too unstable or too incurious, to have any comprehension\nwhatsoever of anything but the simplest scheme of rewards and\npunishments. An organized religion cannot neglect them if it has any\npretensions to being universal. The great ecclesiastical establishments\nhave often sheltered spiritual lives, and drawn new vitality from\nthem. But fundamentally the great churches are secular institutions;\nthey are governments preoccupied inevitably with the regulation of\nthe unregenerate appetites of mankind. In their scriptures there is\nto be found the teaching that true salvation depends upon internal\nreform of desire. But since this reform is so very difficult, in\npractice the churches have devoted themselves not so much to making\nreal conversions, as to governing the dispositions of the unconverted\nmultitude.\n\nThey are immensely engaged by the task of administering their moral\ncodes, persuading their congregations with promises, and threatening\nthem with punishments [p202] if they do not keep their childish\nlusts within bounds. The fact that they use rewards and punishments,\nand appeal even to Caesar, is evidence enough that they are dealing\nwith the unconverted. The fact that they invoke authority is in\nitself evidence that they are speaking to the naive. The fact that\nthey pretend to have certain knowledge about the constitution of the\nuniverse is evidence that they are interested in those who are not wise\nenough to understand the limitations of knowledge. For to the few who\nare converted, goodness is pleasant, and needs no sanctions. It needs\nno authority, for it has been verified by experience. But when men have\nto be coerced into goodness, it is plain that they do not care for it.\n\nNow although the great teachers saw clearly enough the difference\nbetween the popular religion and their own insight, they were under\nno great compulsion to try and overcome it. They accepted the fact\nthat the true religion was esoteric and for the few. They saw that it\ndemanded the re-education of desire, but they had no systematic and\ntested knowledge of how new habits can be formed. Invincible as was\ntheir insight into the principle of happiness, they were compelled\nto depend upon introspection, and to generalize from a limited\nobservation. They understood that the good life was in some degree an\nacquired disposition; they were aware that it is not easily or naively\nacquired.\n\nFor those who somehow had the disposition, the teachers instituted\nstern disciplines which were really primitive experiments in the\nre-education of desire. But there was no very urgent practical need\nwhich impelled them to search for ways of making disciplines more\n[p203] widely available. Those who submitted to them were in general\nindividuals who were already out of the ordinary. The mass of mankind\nlived solidly within the framework of custom and the psychological\ncompulsions of theocracy. There was no pressing reason, as there is\nto-day, now that this ancestral order is dissolved, why anyone should\nseek to formulate a mode of life by which ordinary men, thrown upon\ntheir own resources, can find their way without supernatural rules,\ncommands, punishments, and compensations. In the past there were a\nfew men here and there who had somehow, for reasons which we do not\nunderstand, outgrown the ancestral society in which they lived. But the\nsociety itself remained. It sheltered them. And it ruled the many.\n\nThe peculiarity of our modern situation is that multitudes, instead of\na few, are compelled to make radical and original adjustments. These\nmultitudes, though they have lost the ancient certainties, have not\noutgrown the needs to which they ministered. They need to believe,\nbut they cannot. They need to be commanded, but they cannot find a\ncommander. They need support, and there is none. Their situation is\nadult, but their dispositions are not. The religion of the spirit would\nsuit their needs, but it would seem to be beyond their powers.\n\n\n4. _The Stone Which the Builders Rejected_\n\nThe way of life which I have called high religion has in all ages\nseemed so unapproachably high that it has been reserved for a voluntary\naristocracy of the spirit. It has, in fact, been looked upon not only\nas a kind of splendid idiosyncrasy of a few men here and there, but\n[p204] as incompatible, in essence, with the practical conditions\nunder which life is lived. It is for these reasons, no doubt, that\nthe practice of high religion has almost invariably been associated\neither with a solitary asceticism or with a specially organized life in\nmonastic establishments. High religion has been regarded as something\nseparate from the main concerns of mankind.\n\nIt is not difficult to see why this was so if we realize that the\ninsight into the value of disinterestedness, which is the core of high\nreligion, was not a sudden discovery nor a complete one, anywhere or\nany time. Like all other things associated with evolutionary man, this\ninsight must have had very crude beginnings; it would be possible\nto show, I think, that there have been many tentative and partial\nperceptions of it which, under the clarifying power of men of genius,\nhave at times become coherent. When we remember that we are dealing\nwith an insight into the qualities of a matured personality, there is\nno reason to suppose that the full significance of this insight has\never been completely exhausted. It seems far more likely that the sages\ndemonstrated the existence of the realm of the spirit, but that it\nstill remains to be thoroughly explored.\n\nIf that is true then the attempt to live by these partial insights\nmust necessarily have presented inordinate practical difficulties.\nPythagoras, for example, seems to have grasped the idea that the\ndisinterested study of mathematics and music was cleansing to the\npassions and also that in order to be disinterested it was necessary\nto have purity of mind. So when he established his society in Southern\nItaly he evidently attempted to combine the [p205] serious pursuit\nof science with an ascetic discipline. But the pursuit of science was\ntoo much for the mass of the faithful who assumed that \u201cto follow\nPythagoras meant to go barefoot and to abstain from animal flesh and\nbeans.\u201d And this in turn was too much for the dignity of the learned\nwho proceeded to dissociate themselves from the disciplinary aspect of\nthe Pythagorean teaching. It is a fair conclusion, I think, that the\nbreakdown of this early experiment must have been due fundamentally to\nthe fact that Pythagoras could not have known any tested method either\nof equipping his followers to appreciate science or anything beside a\ncrude asceticism as a means of moral discipline. If this is true, then\nthe reason for the failure lay in the fact that though the original\ninsight was marvelously good, it was not implemented with the necessary\ntechnical knowledge for applying it. Only a few, we may suppose, who\nwere already by the accidents of nature and nurture suited to the\nPythagorean ideal, can ever have successfully applied it.\n\nIn the Christian pursuit of the higher religious life the practical\ndifficulties presented themselves in a different way. In its beginning\nChristianity was a sect of obscure men and women who were out of\ntouch with the intellectual interests of the Roman world. They were\npersecuted aliens both in Palestine and elsewhere, and they came to\nthe conclusion that the Roman Empire and all its concerns was the\nKingdom of Satan. This, together with the widespread belief in the\nSecond Coming of Christ, dissociated the Christian life at the outset\nfrom the life of the world. Later on, when Christianity became the\nofficial religion of the Empire, and the Church a great [p206] secular\ninstitution which concerned itself with government and property and\ndiplomacy and war, those who wished to live as nearly as possible\naccording to the original meaning of the Gospels were quite evidently\ncompelled to withdraw and live a separated life. \u201cIf any man love the\nworld, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the\nworld, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride\nof life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world\npasseth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God\nabideth forever.\u201d\n\nAlthough for some centuries the monasteries were the centers of what\nlearning there was, the impressions left by monasticism on mankind\nseems to have been that the highest type of religious life is not\ndisinterested in human affairs, but uninterested; that it requires not\nmerely the renunciation of worldly desires, but of the world itself.\nThe insight was imperfect, and therefore as an example to mankind the\npractice was abortive and confusing. Yet only an uncomprehending person\ncan fail to see that the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience\nproceeded from a profound, if partial, understanding of human nature\nand its most perfect harmony. Plainly all manner of disorder both in\nsociety and in the individual result from greed, uncontrollable sexual\ndesire, arrogance, and imperiousness. That was so plain to the early\nChristians, and on the other hand it was so little plain how those\npowerful passions could be civilized, that the monastics in effect gave\nup and attempted to excise them entirely from their natures. In this\nthey did not succeed.\n\nHad they known any way of curing the fever of human [p207] passion\nexcept by attempting to excise it, the insight of high religion would\nhave had some practicable meaning for those who did not withdraw from\nthe world. But no way was known, and therefore the practice of high\nreligion had to mean separation from human society and violence to\nhuman nature. But why was there no other way known of overcoming the\nchaos of the passions? Was it because there is no other way? If that\nwere so then the world is as hopeless as the early Christians thought\nit was; indeed it is more hopeless because it does not show any signs,\nas they believed, of coming to an end. Was it because the early\nChristian Fathers were not wise enough to discover a way? It is always\na good rule, I think, to discard any idea based on the premise that the\nbest minds of another age were congenitally inferior to our own. My\nconviction is that necessity is the mother of discovery and invention,\nand that the reason why the insight of high religion and the methods\nof practicing it were so imperfectly developed, is that there was no\npractical necessity for developing them.\n\nThe mass of men lived in an ancestral order which was regulated by\ncustom and authority, and made endurable by usage and compensatory\nconsolations. The organic quality of that society into which they\nfitted took care of their passions; those who had outgrown such a\nsociety, or were so constituted that they did not fit it, were the\nexceptions. From them came the insight of high religion; for them a\nseparated life was a possible solution of their personal problems.\nThere was nothing in the nature of things to compel men to work out a\nway of life, I won\u2019t say for all men, but at least for many men, by\nwhich [p208] they could govern their own natures. Behind any such\neffort there would almost certainly have to be an urgent need. For the\ninertia of the human race is immense.\n\nIt is my thesis that because the acids of modernity have dissolved\nthe adjustments of the ancestral order, there exists to-day on a\nscale never before experienced by mankind and of an urgency without a\nparallel, the need for that philosophy of life of which the insight\nof high religion is a prophecy. For it is immature and unregenerate\ndesire which creates the disorders and the frustrations that confound\nus. The preoccupation of the popular religion has been to find a way of\ngoverning these disorders and of compensating for their frustrations.\nThe preoccupation of high religion is with the regeneration of the\npassions that create the disorders and the frustrations. Insofar as\nmodernity has dissolved the power of the popular religion to govern\nand to compensate, the need for a high religion which regenerates\nbecomes imperative, and what was once a kind of spiritual luxury of the\nfew has, under modern conditions, become an urgent necessity of the\nmany. The insight of high religion which has hitherto indicated a kind\nof bypath into rare experiences is now a trail which the leaders of\nmankind are compelled to take.\n\nThere is implied in this a radical displacement in the field of morals.\nThe main interest of the practical moralist in the past has been to\ninterpret, administer, and enforce a moral code. He knew what was\nright. The populace acknowledged that he knew what was right. His\ntask was to persuade and compel them to do what was right. There was\na tacit assumption, which was [p209] quite correct, that very often\nthe populace and even the moralist himself would much rather have done\nwhat was wrong. Very often they did it. Then they were punished in\nthis world or in the next. But to-day the moralist finds himself in\na different position. He is no longer absolutely sure that he knows\nwhat is right. The populace, even if it respects him, is disinclined\nto believe that a thing is right simply because he says it is. The\npopulace continues very frequently to prefer what was once regarded\nas wrong. It no longer knows whether it is right or wrong, and of\ncourse it gives itself the benefit of the doubt. The result is that\nthere no longer exists a moral code which the moralist can interpret,\nadminister, and enforce. The effect of that is moral anarchy within\nand without. Since there is no principle under modern conditions which\nauthorizes the re-establishment of a moral code, the moralist, unless\nhe revises his premises, becomes entirely ineffectual. To revise his\npremises can, under the circumstances, mean only one thing: that he\noccupies himself with the problem of how to encourage that growth\ninto maturity, that outgrowing of naive desire, that cultivation of\ndisinterestedness, which render passion innocent and an authoritative\nmorality unnecessary.\n\nThe novelty of all this lies in the fact that the guardians of morality\namong the people are compelled at last to take seriously what the\nteachers of wisdom have taught. The insight of high religion may\nbe said, then, to be a discovery in the field of human experience\ncomparable with those prophetic conceptions in the natural sciences\nwhich, after being looked upon for long periods as a [p210] curiosity,\nare at last, because circumstances are ripe, seen to be the clue\nto otherwise insoluble perplexities. The concept of evolution was\ndiscovered by sheer insight innumerable times before the time of\nDarwin. Not much came of it until the rapid evolution of human affairs\nafter the industrial revolution had somehow brought this neglected\ninsight into focus with men\u2019s interests. There are many conceptions in\nthe science of the Greeks which are true intimations of what modern\nphysicists have found. But an insight of this sort comes into its own\nonly when circumstances conspire to make it inevitably appropriate.\nIt is my contention that in the field of morals circumstances are\nproducing a somewhat analogous condition: that the insight of the sages\ninto the value of disinterestedness has become the clue to otherwise\ninsoluble perplexities.\n\n\n\n\n PART III [p211]\n\n THE GENIUS OF MODERNITY\n\n _Where is the way where light dwelleth?_\n Job 38:19.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI [p213]\n\nTHE CURE OF SOULS\n\n\n1. _The Problem of Evil_\n\nThe greatest of all perplexities in theology has been to reconcile the\ninfinite goodness of God with his omnipotence. Nothing puts a greater\nstrain upon the faith of the common man than the existence of utterly\nirrational suffering in the universe, and the problem which tormented\nJob still troubles every devout and thoughtful man who beholds the\nmonstrous injustices of nature. If there were no pain in the world\nexcept that which was felt by responsible beings who had knowingly\ntransgressed some law of conduct, there would, of course, be no problem\nof evil. Pain would be nothing but a rational punishment. But the pain\nwhich is suffered by those who according to all human standards are\ninnocent, by children and by animals, for example, cannot be fitted\ninto any rational theory of reward and punishment. It never has been.\nThe classic attempts to solve the problem of evil invariably falsify\nthe premises. This falsification may for a time satisfy the inquirer,\nbut it does not settle the problem. That is why the problem is forever\npresenting itself again.\n\nThe solutions which have been proposed neglect one or the other of the\nattributes of God: tacitly or otherwise either his infinite power or\nhis infinite love is denied. [p214] In the Old Testament, at least\nin the older parts of it, the power of God is exalted at the expense\nof his goodness. For it is simply impossible by any human standard\nand within any intelligible meaning of the words to regard Yahveh as\nwholly good. His cruelty is notorious and his capriciousness is that\nof an Oriental despot. It is admitted, I believe, by all but the most\nliterally-minded of the fundamentalists that there are innumerable\nincidents in the Old Testament which have to be expurgated if the Bible\nis to be used as a source book of conduct for impressionable children.\nNow for the ancient Hebrews who conceived God in their fashion, the\nproblem of evil did not exist because it had not occurred to them that\na ruler should be just and good as well as great and powerful.\n\nAs men came to believe that God must be just, beneficent, and loving,\nthe problem soon presented itself. And in the Book of Job, which is\nsupposed to date from the Fifth or Fourth Century B.C., we have a\npoignant effort to solve it. Job\u2019s conclusion is that the goodness of\nJehovah is among the \u201cthings too wonderful for me.\u201d He accepts the\njudgments of God, and acknowledges their goodness by attributing to God\na kind of goodness which is unlike the human conception of goodness.\nHe holds fast to the premise that God is omnipotent\u2014\u201cI know that thou\ncanst do all things\u201d\u2014and the other premise that God is beneficent\nhe redefines. Job\u2019s mind was satisfied, and it is reported that he\nprospered greatly thereafter. What had really happened was that Job\ngave up the attempt to prove that God was like Job, that the world was\nas Job wished it to be, and so piously and with his mind at [p215]\nrest he made the best of things, and went about his affairs.\n\nIn Job the solution is reached by claiming that what seems evil to\nus would really be recognized as goodness if our minds were not so\nlimited. To the naive this is no solution at all, for it depends\nupon using the word \u2018good\u2019 in two senses; actually it was a perfect\nsolution, for Job had resigned himself to the fact that God and the\nuniverse in which he was manifest are not controlled by human desires.\nThose who refused to accept this solution involved themselves in\nintricate theorizing. Some of them argued that evil is an illusion.\nThis theory has been widely held, though it is rather difficult to\nsee how, if evil is an illusion, good is not also an illusion. The\none seems as vividly real as the other. It has also been argued by\nsome that evil is not important. This, of course, does not solve the\ntheoretical problem. In fact it ignores the problem and is really\na piece of advice as to how men ought to conduct themselves in the\npresence of God. Many have argued, also, that evil exists in the world\nto test human character, that by bearing it and conquering it men prove\ntheir worth. There is a core of truth in this observation as there is\nin the theory that many things are not so bad as they seem. But it does\nnot explain why a good and all powerful Deity chose to make men go\nthrough a school of suffering to achieve goodness, when he might have\ncreated them good in the first place.\n\nThese theoretical difficulties have furnished the material for endless\ndebate. I shall not pursue the matter in all its intricacies, but I\nventure to point out that what is attempted in all these solutions is\nultimately to make plain [p216] why the ruler of the universe does\nnot order things as we should order them if we had his power. Once\nwe confess, as Job finally did, that the plan of the universe is not\nwhat we naively wish it would be, there is no problem of evil. For the\nwhole difficulty arises because of our desire to impute to the universe\nitself, or to the god who rules it, purposes like our own; failing to\nfind them, we are disappointed, and are plunged into elaborate and\ninterminable debate.\n\nThe final insight of Job, though it seems to be consistent with the\northodox popular religion, is really wholly inconsistent with the\ninwardness of popular religion. The God of the Book of Job does not\nminister to human desires, and the story of Job is really the story\nof a man\u2019s renunciation of the belief in such a God. It is the story\nof how a man learned to accept life maturely. The God whose ways Job\nfinally acknowledges is no longer a projection of Job\u2019s desires. He is\nlike the God of Spinoza who cannot be cajoled into returning the love\nof his worshipper. He is, in short, the God of an impersonal reality.\n\nWhether God is conceived as a creator of that reality, who administers\nit inexorably, or whether he is identified with reality and is\nconceived as the sum total of its laws, or whether, as in the language\nof modern science, the name of God is not employed at all, is a matter\nof metaphysical taste. The great divide lies between those who think\ntheir wishes are of more than human significance and those who do\nnot. For these latter the problem of evil does not arise out of the\ndifficulty of reconciling the existence of evil with their assumptions.\nThey do not assume that reality must conform to human desire. The\n[p217] problem for them is wholly practical. It is the problem of how\nto remove evil and of how to bear the evil which cannot be removed.\n\nThus from the attempt to explain the ways of God in the world as it now\nis, nature and human nature being what they are, the center of interest\nis shifted to an attempt to discover ways of equipping man to conquer\nevil. This displacement has in fact taken place in the modern world.\nIn their actual practice men do not try to account for evil in order\nthat they may accept it; they do not deny evil in order that they may\nnot have to account for it; they explain it in order that they may deal\nwith it.\n\n\n2. _Superstition and Self-Consciousness_\n\nThis change of attitude toward evil is not, as at first perhaps it\nmay seem, merely a new way of talking about the same thing. It alters\nradically the nature of evil itself. For evil is not a quality of\nthings as such. It is a quality of our relation to them. A dissonance\nin music is unpleasant only to a musical ear. Pain is an evil only if\nsomeone suffers, and there are those to whom pain is pleasure and most\nmen\u2019s evil their good. For things are neutral and evil is a certain way\nof experiencing them.\n\nTo realize this is to destroy the awfulness of evil. I use the word\n\u2018awful\u2019 in its exact sense, and I mean that in abandoning the notion\nthat evil has to be reconciled with a theory of how the world is\ngoverned, we rob it of universal significance. We deflate it. The\npsychological consequences are enormous, for a very great part of all\nhuman suffering lies not in the pain itself, but in the [p218] anxiety\ncontributed by the meaning which we attach to it. Lucretius understood\nthis quite well, and in his superb argument against the fear of death\nhe reasoned that death has no terror because nothing can be terrible to\nthose who no longer exist. Before we were born, he says, \u201cwe felt no\ndistress when the Poeni from all sides came together to do battle....\nFor he whom evil is to befall, must in his own person exist at the\nvery time it comes, if the misery and suffering are haply to have any\nplace at all.\u201d St. Thomas defines superstition as the vice of excess\nin religion, and in this sense of the word it may be said that the\neffect of the modern approach is to take evils out of the context of\nsuperstition.\n\nThey cease to be signs and portents symbolizing the whole of human\ndestiny and become specific and distinguishable situations which have\nto be dealt with. The effect of this is not only to limit drastically\nthe meaning, and therefore the dreadfulness, of any evil, but to\nsubstitute for a general sense of evil an analytical estimate of\nparticular evils. They are then seen to be of long duration and of\nshort, preventable, curable, or inevitable. As long as all evils are\nbelieved somehow to fit into a divine, if mysterious, plan, the effort\nto eradicate them must seem on the whole futile, and even impious.\nThe history of medical progress offers innumerable instances of how\nmen have resisted the introduction of sanitary measures because they\ndreaded to interfere with the providence of God. It is still felt, I\nbelieve, in many quarters, even in medical circles, that to mitigate\nthe labor pains in childbirth is to blaspheme against the commandment\nthat in pain children shall be brought forth. An aura of dread [p219]\nsurrounds evil as long as evil situations remain entangled with a\ntheory of divine government.\n\nThe realization that evil exists only because we feel it to be\npainful helps us not only to dissociate it from this aura of dread\nbut to dissociate ourselves from our own feelings about it. This is a\nmomentous achievement in the inner life of man. To be able to observe\nour own feelings as if they were objective facts, to detach ourselves\nfrom our own fears, hates, and lusts, to examine them, name them,\nidentify them, understand their origin, and finally to judge them, is\nsomehow to rob them of their imperiousness. They are no longer the same\nfeelings. They no longer dominate the whole field of consciousness.\nThey seem no longer to command the whole energy of our being. By\nbecoming conscious of them we in some fashion or other destroy their\nconcentration and diffuse their energy into other channels. We cease to\nbe possessed by one passion; contrary passions retain their vitality,\nand an equilibrium tends to establish itself.\n\nJust what the psychological mechanism of all this is I do not pretend\nto say. It is something to which psychologists are giving increasing\nattention. But since Hellenic times the phenomenon which I have been\ndescribing has been well known. It was undoubtedly what the Sophists\nmeant by the injunction: know thyself. It was in large measure to\nachieve control through detachment that Socrates elaborated his\ndialectic, for the Socratic dialectic is an instrument for making men\nself-conscious, and therefore the masters of their motives. Spinoza\ngrasped this principle with great clarity. \u201cAn emotion,\u201d he says,\n\u201cwhich is a passion ceases to be a passion as soon as we [p220] form a\nclear and distinct idea of it.\u201d He goes on to say that \u201cinsofar as the\nmind understands all things as necessary, it has more power over the\nemotions, or is less passive to them.\u201d\n\nThe more recent discoveries in the field of psychoanalysis are an\nelaboration of this principle. They are based on the discovery of\nFreud and Breuer at the close of the last century that a catharsis of\nemotion is often obtained if the patient can be made to recall, and\nthus to relive by describing it, the emotional situation which troubles\nhim. The release of the psychic poison is known technically as an\nabreaction. Where the new psychology supplements the insights of the\nSophists, of Socrates, and Spinoza, is in the demonstration that there\nare powerful passions affecting our lives of which it is impossible by\nordinary effort of memory \u201cto form a clear and distinct idea.\u201d They are\nsaid to be unconscious, or more accurately, I suppose, they are out\nof the reach of the normal consciousness. Freud and his school have\ninvented an elaborate technic by which the analyst is able frequently\nto help the patient thread his way back through a chain of associations\nto the buried passion and fetch it into consciousness.\n\nThe special technic of psychoanalysis can be tested only by scientific\nexperience. The therapeutic claims made by psychoanalysts, and their\ntheories of the functional disorders, lie outside the realm of this\ndiscussion. But the essential principle is not a technical matter.\nAnyone can confirm it out of his own experience. It has been discovered\nand rediscovered by shrewd observers of human nature for at least\ntwo thousand years. To become detached from one\u2019s passions and to\nunderstand them consciously [p221] is to render them disinterested. A\ndisinterested mind is harmonious with itself and with reality.\n\nThis is the principle by which a humanistic culture becomes bearable.\nIf the principle of a theocratic culture is dependence, obedience,\nconformity in the presence of a superhuman power which administers\nreality, the principle of humanism is detachment, understanding, and\ndisinterestedness in the presence of reality itself.\n\n\n3. _Virtue_\n\nIt can be shown, I think, that those qualities which civilized men,\nregardless of their theologies and their allegiances, have agreed to\ncall virtues, have disinterestedness as their inner principle. I am not\ntalking now about the eccentric virtues which at some time or other\nhave been held in great esteem. I am not talking about the virtue of\nnot playing cards, or of not drinking wine, or of not eating beef, or\nof not eating pork, or of not admitting that women have legs. These\nlittle virtues are historical accidents which may or may not once\nhave had a rational origin. I am talking about the central virtues\nwhich are esteemed by every civilized people. I am talking about such\nvirtues as courage, honor, faithfulness, veracity, justice, temperance,\nmagnanimity, and love.\n\nThey would not be called virtues and held in high esteem if there were\nno difficulty about them. There are innumerable dispositions which are\nessential to living that no one takes the trouble to praise. Thus it is\nnot accounted a virtue if a man eats when he is hungry or goes to bed\nwhen he is ill. He can be depended upon to take care of his immediate\nwants. It is only those actions which [p222] he cannot be depended\nupon to do, and yet are highly desirable, that men call virtuous. They\nrecognize that a premium has to be put upon certain qualities if men\nare to make the effort which is required to transcend their ordinary\nimpulses. The premium consists in describing these desirable and rarer\nqualities as virtues. For virtue is that kind of conduct which is\nesteemed by God, or public opinion, or that less immediate part of a\nman\u2019s personality which he calls his conscience.\n\nTo transcend the ordinary impulses is, therefore, the common element in\nall virtue. Courage, for example, is the willingness to face situations\nfrom which it would be more or less natural to run away. No one thinks\nit is courageous to run risks unwittingly. The drunken driver of an\nautomobile, the boy playing with a stick of dynamite, the man drinking\nwater which he does not know is polluted, all take risks as great as\nthose of the most renowned heroes. But the fact that they do not know\nthe risks, and do not, therefore, have to conquer the fear they would\nfeel if they did know them, robs their conduct of all courage. The\ntest is not the uselessness or even the undesirability of their acts.\nIt is useless to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel. But it is brave,\nassuming the performer to be in his right mind. It is a wicked thing\nto assassinate a king. But if it is not done from ambush, it is brave,\nhowever wicked and however useless.\n\nBecause courage consists in transcending normal fears, the highest kind\nof courage is cold courage; that is to say, courage in which the danger\nhas been fully realized and there is no emotional excitement to conceal\nthe danger. The world instantly recognized this in Colonel Lindbergh\u2019s\n[p223] flight to Paris. He flew alone; he was not an impetuous fool,\nbut a man of the utmost sobriety of judgment. He had no companion to\nkeep his courage screwed up; he knew exactly what he was doing, yet\napparently he did not realize the rewards which were in store for him.\nThe world understood that here was somebody who was altogether braver\nthan the average sensual man. For Colonel Lindbergh did not merely\nconquer the Atlantic Ocean; he conquered those things in himself which\nthe rest of us would have found unconquerable.\n\nThe cold courage of a man like Noguchi who, though in failing health,\nwent into one of the unhealthiest parts of Africa to study a deadly\ndisease, could come only from a nature which was overwhelmingly\ninterested in objects outside itself. Noguchi must have known exactly\nhow dangerous it was for him to go to Africa, and exactly how horrible\nwas the disease to which he exposed himself. To have gone anyway is\nreally to have cared for science in a way which very few care for\nanything so remote and impersonal. But even courage like Lindbergh\u2019s\nand Noguchi\u2019s is more comprehensible than the kind of courage which\nanonymous men have displayed. I am thinking of the four soldiers at\nthe Walter Reed Hospital who let themselves be used for the study\nof typhoid fever. They did not even have Lindbergh\u2019s interest in\nperforming a great feat or Noguchi\u2019s interest in science to buoy them\nup and carry them past the point where they might have faltered. Their\ncourage was as near to absolute courage as it is possible to imagine,\nand I who think this cannot even recall their names.\n\nTo understand the inwardness of courage would be, I [p224] think, to\nhave understood almost all the other important virtues. It is \u201cnot only\nthe chiefest virtue and most dignifies the haver,\u201d but it embodies\nthe principle of all virtue, which is to transcend the immediacy of\ndesire and to live for ends which are transpersonal. Virtuous action\nis conduct which responds to situations that are more extensive,\nmore complicated, and take longer to reach their fulfillment, than\nthe situations to which we instinctively respond. An infant knows\nneither vice nor virtue because it can respond only to what touches it\nimmediately. A man has virtue insofar as he can respond to a larger\nsituation.\n\nHe has honor if he holds himself to an ideal of conduct though it is\ninconvenient, unprofitable, or dangerous to do so. He has veracity\nif he says and believes what he thinks is true though it would be\neasier to deceive others or himself. He is just if he acknowledges the\ninterests of all concerned in a transaction and not merely his own\napparent interest. He is temperate if, in the presence of temptation,\nhe can still prefer Philip sober to Philip drunk. He is magnanimous if,\nas Aristotle says, he cares \u201cmore for truth than for opinion,\u201d speaks\nand acts openly, will not live at the will of another, except it be a\nfriend, does not recollect injuries, does not care that he should be\npraised or that others should be blamed, does not complain or ask for\nhelp in unavoidable or trifling calamities. For such a man, as the word\n\u2018magnanimous\u2019 itself implies, is \u201cconversant with great matters.\u201d\n\nA man who has these virtues has somehow overcome the inertia of his\nimpulses. Their disposition is to respond to the immediate situation,\nand not merely to the situation [p225] at the moment, but to the most\nobvious fragment of it, and not only to the most obvious fragment,\nbut to that aspect which promises instant pleasure or pain. To have\nvirtue is to respond to larger situations and to longer stretches of\ntime and without much interest in their immediate result in convenience\nand pleasure. It is to overcome the impulses of immaturity, to\ndetach one\u2019s self from the objects that preoccupy it and from one\u2019s\nown preoccupations. There are many virtues in the catalogues of\nthe moralists, and they have many different names. But they have a\ncommon principle, which is detachment from that which is apparently\npleasant or unpleasant, and they have a common quality, which is\ndisinterestedness, and they spring from a common source, which is\nmaturity of character.\n\nFew men, if any, possess virtue in all its varieties because few men\nare wholly matured to the core of their being. We are for the most part\nlike fruit which is partly ripened: there is sourness and sweetness in\nour natures. This may be due to the casualness of our upbringing; it\nmay be due to unknown congenital causes; it may be due to functional\nand organic disease, to partial inferiorities of mind and body. But\nit is due also to the fact that we can give our full attention only\nto a few phases of our experience. With the equipment at our disposal\nwe are forced to specialize and to neglect very much. Hence the\nmature scientist with petty ambitions and ignoble timidities. Hence\nthe realistic statesman who is a peevish husband. Hence the man who\nmanages his affairs in masterly fashion and bungles every personal\nrelationship when he is away from his office. Hence the loyal friend\nwho is a [p226] crooked politician, the kind father who is a merciless\nemployer, the champion of mankind who is an intolerable companion.\nIf any of these could carry over into all their relationships the\nqualities which have made them distinguished in some, they would be\nwholly adult and wholly good. It would not be necessary to imagine the\nideal character, for he would already exist.\n\nIt is out of these practical virtues that our conception of virtue has\nbeen formed. We may be sure that no quality is likely to have become\nesteemed as a virtue which did not somewhere and sometime produce\nat least the appearance of happiness. The virtues are grounded in\nexperience; they are not idle suggestions inadvertently adopted because\nsomebody took it into his head one fine day to proclaim a new ideal.\nThere are, to be sure, certain residual and obsolete virtues which\nno longer correspond to anything in our own experience and now seem\nutterly arbitrary and capricious. But the cardinal virtues correspond\nto an experience so long and so nearly universal among men of our\ncivilization, that when they are understood they are seen to contain a\ndeposited wisdom of the race.\n\n\n4. _From Clue to Practice_\n\nThe wisdom deposited in our moral ideals is heavily obscured at the\npresent time. We continue to use the language of morality, having no\nother which we can use. But the words are so hackneyed that their\nmeanings are concealed, and it is very hard, especially for young\npeople, to realize that virtue is really good and really relevant.\n[p227] Morality has become so stereotyped, so thin and verbal, so\nencrusted with pious fraud, it has been so much monopolized by the\ntender-minded and the sentimental, and made so odious by the outcries\nof foolish men and sour old women, that our generation has almost\nforgotten that virtue was not invented in Sunday schools but derives\noriginally from a profound realization of the character of human life.\n\nThis sense of unreality is, I believe, due directly to the widespread\nloss of genuine belief in the premises of popular religion. Virtue is\na product of human experience: men acquired their knowledge of the\nvalue of courage, honor, temperance, veracity, faithfulness, and love,\nbecause these qualities were necessary to their survival and to the\nattainment of happiness. But this human justification of virtue does\nnot carry conviction to the immature, and would not of itself break up\nthe inertia of their naive impulses. Therefore, virtue which derives\nfrom human insight has to be imposed on the immature by authority;\nwhat was obtained on Sinai was not the revelation of the moral law but\ndivine authority to teach it.\n\nNow the very thing which made moral wisdom convincing to our ancestors\nmakes it unconvincing to modern men. We do not live in a patriarchal\nsociety. We do not live in a world which disposes us to a belief\nin theocratic government. And therefore insofar as moral wisdom is\nentangled with the premises of theocracy it is unreal to us. The\nvery thing which gave authority to moral insight for our forefathers\nobscures moral insight for us. They lived in the kind of world which\ndisposed them to practice [p228] virtue if it came to them as a divine\ncommandment. A thoroughly modernized young man to-day distrusts moral\nwisdom precisely because it is commanded.\n\nIt is often said that this distrust is merely an aspect of the normal\nrebellion of youth. I do not believe it. This distrust is due to a\nmuch more fundamental cause. It is due not to a rebellion against\nauthority but to an unbelief in it. This unbelief is the result of\nthat dissolution of the ancient order out of which modern civilization\nis emerging, and unless we understand the radical character of this\nunbelief we shall never understand the moral confusion of this age. We\nshall fail to see that morals taught with authority are pervaded with\na sense of unreality because the sense of authority is no longer real.\nMen will not feel that wisdom is authentic if they are asked to believe\nthat it derives from something which does not seem authentic.\n\nWe may be quite certain, therefore, that we shall not succeed in making\nthe traditional morality convincingly authentic to modern men. The\nwhole tendency of the age is to make it seem less and less authentic.\nThe effort to impose it, nevertheless, merely deepens the confusion by\nconverting the discussion of morals from an examination of experience\ninto a dispute over its metaphysical sanctions. The consequence of this\ndispute is to drive men, especially the most sensitive and courageous,\nfurther away from insight into virtue and deeper and deeper into mere\nnegation and rebellion. What they are actually rebelling against is the\ntheocratic system in which they do not believe. But because that system\nappears to them to claim a vested interest in morality they empty out\nthe baby with the [p229] bath, and lose all sense of the inwardness of\ndeposited wisdom.\n\nFor that reason the recovery of moral insight depends upon\ndisentangling virtue from its traditional sanctions and the\nmetaphysical framework which has hitherto supported it. It will be\nsaid, I know, that this would rob virtue of its popular prestige. My\nanswer is that in those communities which are deeply under modern\ninfluences the loss of belief in these very traditional sanctions and\nthis very metaphysical framework has robbed virtue of its relevance.\nI should readily grant that for communities and for individuals which\nare outside the orbit of modernity, it is neither necessary nor\ndesirable to disentangle morality from its ancient associations. It is\nalso impossible to do so, for when the ancestral order is genuinely\nalive, there is no problem of unbelief. But where the problem exists,\nwhen the ancient premises of morality have faded into mere verbal\nacknowledgments, then these ancient premises obscure vision. They have\nceased to be the sanctions of virtue and have become obstructions to\nmoral insight. Only by deliberately thinking their way past these\nobstructions can modern men recover that innocence of the eye, that\nfresh, authentic sense of the good in human relations on which a living\nmorality depends.\n\nI have tried in these pages to do that for myself. I am under no\nillusion as to the present value of the conceptions arrived at.\nI regard them simply as a probable clue to the understanding of\nmodernity. If the clue is the correct one, the more we explore the\nmodern world the more coherence it will give to our understanding of\nit. A true insight is fruitful; it multiplies insight, until at last\nit not [p230] only illuminates a situation but provides a practical\nguide to conduct. I believe the insight of high religion into the value\nof disinterestedness will, if pursued resolutely, untangle the moral\nconfusion of the age and make plain, as it is not now plain, what we\nare really driving at in our manifold activity, what we are compelled\nto want, what, rather dimly now, we do want, and how to proceed about\nachieving it. To say that is to say that I believe in the hypothesis.\nI do believe in it. I believe that this valuation of human life, which\nwas once the possession of an \u00e9lite, now conforms to the premises of a\nwhole civilization.\n\nThe proof of that must lie in a detailed and searching examination\nof the facts all about us. If the ideal of human character which\nis prophesied in high religion is really suitable and necessary in\nmodern civilization, then an examination ought to show that events\nthemselves are pregnant with it. If they are not, then all this is\nmoonshine and cobwebs and castles in the air. Unless circumstance and\nnecessity are behind it, the insight of high religion is still, as it\nhas always been hitherto, a noble eccentricity of the soul. For men\nwill not take it seriously, they will not devote themselves to the\ndiscovery and invention of ways of cultivating maturity, detachment,\nand disinterestedness unless events conspire to drive them to it.\n\nThe realization of this ideal is plainly a process of education in\nthe most inclusive sense of that term. But it will not do much good\nto tell mothers that they should lead their children away from their\nchildishness; an actual mother, even if she understood so abstruse a\nbit of advice, and did not reject it out of hand as a reflection upon\nthe [p231] glory of childhood, would insist upon being told very\nconcretely what this good advice means and how with a bawling infant in\nthe cradle you go about cultivating his capacity to be disinterested.\nIt is not much better to offer the advice to school teachers; they will\nwish to know what they must not do that they now do, and what they must\ndo that they leave undone. But the answers to these questions are no\nmore to be had from the original concept than are rules for breeding\nfine cattle to be had from the theory of evolution and Mendel\u2019s law. By\nthe use of the concept, psychologists and educators may, if the concept\nis correct and if they are properly encouraged, thread their way by\ndialectic and by experiment to practical knowledge which is actually\nusable as a method of education and as a personal discipline.\n\nIf they are to do that they will have to see quite clearly just how\nand in what sense the ideal of disinterestedness is inherent and\ninevitable in the modern world. The remaining chapters of this book are\nan attempt to do that by demonstrating that in three great phases of\nhuman interest, in business, in government, and in sexual relations,\nthe ideal is now implicit and necessary.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII [p232]\n\nTHE BUSINESS OF THE GREAT SOCIETY\n\n\n1. _The Invention of Invention_\n\nOne of the characteristics of the age we live in is that we are forever\ntrying to explain it. We feel that if we understood it better we should\nknow better how to live in it, and should cease to be aliens who do not\nknow the landmarks of a strange country. There is, however, a school\nof philosophic historians who argue that this sense of novelty in the\nmodern world is an illusion, and that as a matter of fact mankind has\npassed before through the same phase of the same inexorable cycle. The\nboldest of them, like Oswald Spengler, cite chapter and verse to show\nthat there have been several of these great cycles of development from\nincubation through maturity to decay, and that our western civilization\nwhich began about 900 A.D. is now in the phase which corresponds with\nthe century after Pericles in the classical world.\n\nThat the analogy is striking no reader of Spengler will deny who can\nendure Spengler\u2019s procrustean determination to make the evidence fit\nthe theory. We can see the growth of towns at the expense of the\nfarms, the rise of capitalism, the growth of international trade and\nfinance, a development of nationalism, of democracy, attempts at the\nabolition of war through international organization, and with it all\na dissolution of the popular religion, of [p233] the traditional\nmorality, and vast and searching inquiry into the meaning of life.\nThere is little doubt that the speculation of the Greek philosophers\nseems extraordinarily fresh to us, because they were confronted with a\nsituation in many respects remarkably like our own.\n\nBut however nicely such analogies are worked out they are superficial\nand misleading. There is something radically new in the modern world,\nsomething for which there is no parallel in any other civilization.\nThis new thing is usually described as power-driven machinery. Thus\nMr. Charles A. Beard says that \u201cwhat is called Western or modern\ncivilization by way of contrast with the civilization of the Orient or\nMedi\u00e6val times is at bottom a civilization that rests upon machinery\nand science as distinguished from one founded on agriculture or\nhandicraft commerce. It is in reality a technological civilization ...\nand ... it threatens to overcome and transform the whole globe.\u201d By way\nof illustrating how deeply machinery affects human life, Mr. Beard says\nthat because they are untouched by this machine civilization \u201cthere\nare more fundamental resemblances between the culture of a peasant in\na remote village in Spain and that of a peasant in a remote village\nin Japan than between the culture of a Christian priest of the upper\nPyrenees and that of a Baptist clergyman in a thriving manufacturing\ntown in Illinois.\u201d\n\nMr. H. G. Wells uses much the same argument to show that in spite of\nthe apparent similarities there is an essential difference between our\ncivilization and the later phases of the classical. \u201cThe essential\ndifference,\u201d he says, \u201cbetween the amassing of riches, the extinction\nof small farmers and small business men, and the phase of [p234] big\nfinance in the latter centuries of the Roman republic on the one hand,\nand the very similar concentration of capital in the eighteenth and\nnineteenth centuries on the other, lies in the profound difference in\nthe character of labor that the mechanical revolution was bringing\nabout. The power of the old world was human power; everything depended\nultimately upon the driving power of human muscle, the muscle of\nignorant and subjugated men. A little animal muscle, supplied by draft\noxen, horse traction, and the like contributed. Where a weight had to\nbe lifted, men lifted it; where a rock had to be quarried, men chipped\nit out; where a field had to be ploughed, men and oxen ploughed it;\nthe Roman equivalent of the steamship was the galley with its banks of\nsweating rowers.... The Roman civilization was built upon cheap and\ndegraded human beings; modern civilization is being rebuilt upon cheap\nmechanical power.\u201d\n\nThese differences are genuine enough, and yet it is doubtful whether\nMr. Wells has described the really \u201cnew thing in human experience.\u201d\nAfter all a great deal of cheap man power is still used in conjunction\nwith cheap mechanical power; it is somewhat of an idealization to\ntalk as if the machine had supplanted the drudge. What Mr. Wells has\nin mind, of course, is that in the Roman world a vast proportion of\nmankind were doomed to \u201cpurely mechanical drudgery\u201d whereas in the\nmodern world there is tangible hope that they will be released from it.\nThey are not yet released from it, however, and their hope of release\nrests upon the really new element in human experience.\n\nThe various mechanical inventions from James Watt\u2019s [p235] steam\nengine to the electric dishwasher and vacuum cleaner are not this new\nelement. All these inventions, singly or collectively, though they have\nrevolutionized the manner of human life, are not the ultimate reason\nwhy men put such hope in machines. Their hope is not based on the\nmachines we possess. They are obviously a mixed blessing. Their hope is\nbased on the machines that are yet to be made, and they have reason to\nhope because a really new thing has come into the world. That thing is\nthe invention of invention.\n\nMen have not merely invented the modern machines. There have been\nmachines invented since the earliest days, incalculably important, like\nthe wheel, like sailing ships, like the windmill and the watermill.\nBut in modern times men have invented a method of inventing, they have\ndiscovered a method of discovery. Mechanical progress has ceased to\nbe casual and accidental and has become systematic and cumulative. We\nknow, as no other people ever knew before, that we shall make more\nand more perfect machines. When Mr. Beard says that \u201cthe machine\ncivilization differs from all others in that it is highly dynamic,\ncontaining within itself the seeds of constant reconstruction,\u201d he is,\nI take it, referring to this supreme discovery which is the art of\ndiscovery itself.\n\n\n2. _The Creative Principle in Modernity_\n\nAlthough the disposition to scientific thought may be said to have\noriginated in remote antiquity, it was not until the Sixteenth Century\nof our era that it ceased to appear spasmodically and as if by chance.\nThe Greeks had their schools on the shores of the \u00c6gean, in Sicily,\n[p236] and in Alexandria, and in them some of the conclusions and much\nof the spirit of scientific inquiry was imaginatively anticipated.\nBut the conscious organized effort to relate \u201cgeneral principles to\nirreducible and stubborn facts,\u201d as Mr. Whitehead puts it, began about\nthree hundred years ago. The first society chiefly devoted to science\nseems to have been founded by della Porta at Naples in 1560, but it\nwas closed by the ecclesiastical authorities. Forty years later the\n_Accademia dei Lincei_ was founded at Rome with Galileo among its early\nmembers. The Royal Society of London was chartered in 1662. The French\nAcademy of Sciences began its meetings in 1666, the Berlin Academy in\n1700, the American Philosophical Association was proposed by Benjamin\nFranklin in 1743 and organized in 1769.\n\nThe active pursuit of science is a matter, then, of only a few hundred\nyears. The practical consequences in the form of useful inventions are\nstill more recent. Newcomen\u2019s air-and-steam engine dates from 1705,\nbut it was not until 1764 that James Watt produced a practicable steam\nengine. It was not until the beginning of the Nineteenth Century that\ninvention really got under way and began to transform the structure\nof civilization. It was not until about 1850 that the importance of\ninvention had impressed itself upon the English people, yet they were\nthe first to experience the effects of the mechanical revolution. They\nhad seen the first railway, the first steamboat, the illumination\nof towns by gas, and the application of power-driven machinery to\nmanufacture. Professor Bury fixes the Exhibition of London in 1851 as\nthe event which marks the public recognition of the role of science\n[p237] in modern civilization. The Prince Consort who originated the\nExhibition said in his opening speech that it was designed \u201cto give\nus a true test and a living picture of the point of development at\nwhich the whole of mankind has arrived in this great task, and a new\nstarting-point from which the nations will be able to direct their\nfurther exertions.\u201d\n\nBut this public recognition was at first rather sentimental and\ngaping. The full realization of the place of science in modern life\ncame slowly, and only in our generation can it be said that political\nrulers, captains of industry, and leaders of thought have actually\nbegun to appreciate how central is science in our civilization, and to\nact upon that realization. In our time governments have begun to take\nscience seriously and to promote research and invention not only in\nthe art of war, but in the interest of trade, agriculture, and public\nhygiene. Great corporations have established laboratories of their\nown, not merely for the perfecting of their own processes, but for\nthe promotion of pure research. Money has become available in great\nquantities for scientific work in the universities, and the educational\ncurriculum down to the lowest grades has begun to be reorganized not\nonly in order to train a minority of the population for research and\ninvention, but to train the great majority to understand and use the\nmachines and the processes which are available.\n\nThe motives and the habits of mind which are thus brought into play at\nthe very heart of modern civilization are mature and disinterested.\nThat may not be the primary intention, but it is the inevitable\nresult. No doubt [p238] governments encourage research in order to\nhave powerful weapons with which to overawe their neighbors; no doubt\nindustries encourage research because it pays; no doubt scientists\nand inventors are in some measure moved by the desire for wealth and\nfame; no doubt the general public approves of science because of the\npleasures and conveniences it provides; no doubt there is an intuitive\nsense in modern communities that the prospects of survival both for\nnations and for individuals are somehow related to their command of\nscientific knowledge. But nevertheless, whatever the motives which\ncause men to endow laboratories, to work patiently in laboratories or\nto buy the products, the fact remains that inside the laboratory, at\nthe heart of this whole business, the habit of disinterested realism in\ndealing with the data is the indispensable habit of mind. Unless this\nhabit of mind exists in the actual research, all the endowments and\nhonorary degrees and prize awards will not produce the results desired.\nThis is an original and tremendous fact in human experience: that a\nwhole civilization should be dependent upon technology, that this\ntechnology should be dependent upon pure science, and that this pure\nscience should be dependent upon a race of men who consciously refuse,\nas Mr. Bertrand Russell has said, to regard their \u201cown desires, tastes,\nand interests as affording a key to the understanding of the world.\u201d\n\nWhen I say that the refusal is conscious I do not mean merely that\nscientists tell themselves that they must ignore their prejudices.\nThey have developed an elaborate method for detecting and discounting\ntheir prejudices. It consists of instruments of precision, an accurate\nvocabulary, [p239] controlled experiment, and the submission not only\nof their results but of their processes to the judgment of their peers.\nThis method provides a body in which the spirit of disinterestedness\ncan live, and it might be said that modern science, not in its crude\nconsequences but in its inward principle, not, that is to say, as\nmanifested in automobiles, electric refrigerators, and rayon silk, but\nin the behavior of the men who invent and perfect these things, is\nthe actual realization in a practicable mode of conduct which can be\nlearned and practiced, of the insight of high religion. The scientific\ndiscipline is one way in which this insight, hitherto lyrical and\npersonal and apart, is brought down to earth and into direct and\ndecisive contact with the concerns of mankind.\n\nIt is no exaggeration to say that pure science is high religion\nincarnate. No doubt the science we have is not the whole incarnation,\nbut as far as it goes it translates into a usable procedure what in the\nteaching of the sages has been an esoteric insight. Scientific method\ncan be learned. The learning of it matures the human character. Its\nvalue can be demonstrated in concrete results. Its importance in human\nlife is indisputable. But the insight of high religion as such could be\nappreciated only by those who were already mature; it corresponded to\nnothing in the experience and the necessities of the ordinary man. It\ncould be talked about but not taught; it could inspire only the few who\nwere somehow already inspired. With the discovery of scientific method\nthe insight has ceased to be an intangible and somewhat formless idea\nand has become an organized effort which moves mankind more profoundly\nthan anything else in human affairs. Therefore, [p240] what was once\na personal attitude on the part of a few who were somewhat withdrawn\nand disregarded has become the central principle in the careers of\ninnumerable, immensely influential, men.\n\nBecause the scientific discipline is, in fact, the creative element in\nthat which is distinctively modern, circumstances conspire to enhance\nits prestige and to extend its acceptance. It is the ultimate source\nof profit and of power, and therefore it is assured of protection and\nencouragement by those who rule the modern state. They cannot afford\nnot to cultivate the scientific spirit: the nation which does not\ncultivate it cannot hold its place among the nations, the corporation\nwhich ignores it will be destroyed by its competitors. The training of\nan ever increasing number of pure scientists, of inventors, and of men\nwho can operate and repair machinery is, therefore, a sheer practical\nnecessity. The scientific discipline has become, as Mr. Graham Wallas\nwould say, an essential part of our social heritage. For the machine\ntechnology requires a population which in some measure partakes of the\nspirit which created it.\n\nNaturally enough, however, the influence of the scientific spirit\nbecomes more and more diluted the further one goes from the work of the\nmen who actually conceive, discover, invent, and perfect the modern\nmachines. From Faraday, Maxwell, and Hertz who did the chief work\nwhich made possible the wireless it is a long way to the broker who\nsells radio stock or the householder with his six-tube set. I have not\nbeen supposing that these latter partake in any way of the original\nspirit which made the radio possible. But it is a fact of enormous\nconsequences, [p241] cumulative in its effect upon the education of\nsucceeding generations, that the radio, and all the other contrivances\naround which modern civilization is constructed, should be possible\nonly by the increasing use of a scientific discipline.\n\n\n3. _Naive Capitalism_\n\nThe application of science to the daily affairs of men was acclaimed\nat first with more enthusiasm than understanding. \u201cThat early people,\u201d\nsaid Buffon, speaking of the Babylonians, \u201cwas very happy, because\nit was very scientific.\u201d Entranced with the success of the Newtonian\nphysics and by the dazzling effect of inventions, the intellectuals\nof the Eighteenth Century persuaded themselves that science was a\nmessianic force which would liberate mankind from pain, drudgery, and\nerror. It was believed that science would somewhat mysteriously endow\nmankind with invincible power over the forces of nature, and that men,\nif they were released from the bondage of religious custom and belief,\ncould employ the power of science to their own consummate happiness.\nThe mechanical revolution, in short, was inaugurated on the theory\nthat the natural man must be liberated from moral conventions and that\nnature must be subjugated by mechanical instruments.\n\nThere are intelligible historical reasons why our great grandfathers\nadopted this view. They found themselves in a world regulated by the\ncustoms and beliefs of a landed society. They could not operate their\nfactories successfully in such a society, and they rebelled fiercely\nagainst the customs which restricted them. That rebellion [p242]\nwas rationalized in the philosophy of _laissez-faire_ which meant in\nessence that machine industry must not be interfered with by landlords\nand peasants who had feudal rights, nor by governments which protected\nthose rights. On the positive side this rebellion expressed itself in\ndeclarations of the rights of man. These declarations were a denial of\nthe vested rights of men under the old landed order and an assertion of\nthe rights of men, particularly the new middle-class men, who proposed\nto make the most of the new industrial and mechanical order. By the\nrights of men they meant primarily freedom of contract, freedom of\ntrade, freedom of occupation\u2014those freedoms, that is to say, which\nmade it possible for the new employer to buy and sell, to hire and fire\nwithout being accountable to anyone.\n\nThe prophet of this new dispensation was Adam Smith. In the _Wealth of\nNations_ he wrote that\n\n All systems either of preference or of restraint ... being thus\n completely taken away, the obvious and simple system of natural\n liberty establishes itself of its own accord. Every man, as long as\n he does not violate the laws of justice, is left perfectly free to\n pursue his own interest his own way, and to bring both his industry\n and capital into competition with those of any other man, or order\n of men.\n\nThe employing class in the early days of capitalism honestly believed,\nand indeed its less enlightened members still believe to this very\nday, that somehow the general welfare will be served by trusting\nnaively to the acquisitive instincts of the employing capitalist. Thus\nat the outset the machine technology was applied under the direction\nof men who scorned as sentimental, when they [p243] did not regard\nas subversive, that disinterestedness which alone makes possible the\nmachine technology itself. They did not understand science. They merely\nexploited certain of the inventions which scientists produced. What\nthey believed, insofar as they had any philosophy, was that there\nexists a preestablished harmony in the universe\u2014an \u201cobvious and\nsimple system of natural liberty,\u201d in Adam Smith\u2019s language, \u201cwhich\nestablishes itself of its own accord\u201d\u2014by which if each man naively\npursued his primitive impulse to have and to hold in competition with\nother men, peace, prosperity, and happiness would ensue.\n\nThey did not ensue. And the social history of the last seventy-five\nyears has in large measure been concerned with the birth pains of an\nindustrial philosophy that will really suit the machine technology and\nthe nature of man. For the notion that an intricate and delicately\npoised industrial mechanism could be operated by uneducated men\nsnatching competitively at profits was soon exposed as a simple-minded\ndelusion.\n\nIt was discovered that if each banker was permitted to do what seemed\nto him immediately most profitable, the result was a succession of\ndisastrous inflations and deflations of credit; that if natural\nresources in oil, coal, lumber, and the like were subjected to the\ncompetitive principle, the result was a shocking waste of irreplaceable\nwealth; that if the hiring and firing of labor were carried on under\nabsolute freedom of contract, a whole chain of social evils in the form\nof child labor, unsuitable labor for women, sweating, unemployment,\nand the importation of cheap and unassimilable labor resulted; that if\nbusiness men were left to their own devices the consumer of necessary\n[p244] goods was helpless when he was confronted with industries\nin which there was an element of monopoly. There is no need here to\nrecount the well-known story of how in every modern community the\ntheory of free competition has in the course of the last generation\nbeen modified by legislation, by organized labor, by organized business\nitself. So little has _laissez-faire_ worked under actual experience\nthat all the powers of the government have actually had to be invoked\nto preserve a certain amount of compulsory \u201cfree competition.\u201d For the\nindustrial machine, as soon as it passes out of the early phase of\nrough exploitation in virgin territory, becomes unmanageable by naively\ncompetitive and acquisitive men.\n\n\n4. _The Credo of Old-Style Business_\n\nIt was frequently pointed out by moralists like Ruskin and William\nMorris, and by churchmen as well, that this \u201cobvious and simple system\nof natural liberty\u201d by which \u201cevery man was left perfectly free to\npursue his own interest his own way,\u201d was not only contrary to the\ndogmas of the popular religion but irreconcilable with moral wisdom.\nThe credo of the unregenerate business man was utterly atheistical in\nits premises, for it displaced the notion that there is any higher\nwill than his own to which the employer is accountable. It was more\nthan atheistical, however; it was, in Aristotle\u2019s sense of the word,\nbarbarous in that it implied \u201cthe living as one likes\u201d with virtually\ncomplete acquiescence in the supremacy of the acquisitive instinct.\n\nThere is no reason to suppose that such theoretical comments on the\ncredo of naive capitalism did more than [p245] rub off a little\nof its unction. Capitalism may be, as Mr. Maynard Keynes has said,\n\u201cabsolutely irreligious ... often, though not always, a mere congeries\nof possessors and pursuers.\u201d Were the credo workable in practice, some\nway would have been found of anointing it with attractive phrases. The\nreal reason for the gradual abandonment of the credo, proclaimed by\nAdam Smith and repeated so steadily since his day, is that the credo\nof naive capitalism is deeply at variance with the real character\nof modern industry. It rests upon false premises, is therefore\ncontradicted by experience, and has proved to be unworkable.\n\nThe system of natural liberty assumes that if each man pursues his own\ninterest his own way, each man will promote his interest. There is an\nunanalyzed fallacy in this theory which makes it utterly meaningless.\nIt is assumed that each man knows his own interest and can therefore\npursue it. But that is precisely what no man is certain to know, and\nwhat few men can possibly know if they consult only their own impulses.\nThere is nothing in the natural equipment of man which enables him to\nknow intuitively whether it will be profitable to increase his output\nor reduce it, to enter a new line of business, to buy or to sell, or to\nmake any of the other thousand and one decisions on which the conduct\nof business depends. Since he is not born with this wisdom, since\nhe does not automatically absorb it from the air, to pursue his own\ninterest his own way is a fairly certain way to disaster.\n\nThe fallacy of the theory of natural liberty is undetected in a\nbonanza period of industrial development. Where the business man has\nunexhausted natural resources to [p246] draw upon, where there is a\nsurplus of customers competing for his goods, he can with naive and\nfurious energy pursue his own interests his own way and reap enormous\nprofits. There is no real resistance from the outside; there are no\nstubborn and irreducible facts to which he must adjust himself. He\ncan proceed with an infantile philosophy to achieve success. But this\nbonanza period when the omnipotence of the capitalist is unthwarted,\nand his omniscience therefore assumed, soon comes to an end. In\nadvanced communities the mere multiplication of industries produces\nsuch a complicated environment that the business man is compelled to\nsubstitute considered policies for his intuitions, objective surveys\nfor his guesses, and conferences world without end for his natural\nliberties.\n\nWhat has upset the idea of the old-style business man that he knows\nwhat\u2019s what is that the relevant facts are no longer visible. The owner\nof a primitive factory might have known all his working men and all\nhis customers; the keeper of a little neighborhood shop may still, to\na certain extent, know personally his whole business. But for most\nmen to-day the facts which matter vitally to them are out of sight,\nbeyond their personal control, intricate, subject to more or less\nunpredictable changes, and even with highly technical reporting and\nanalysis almost unintelligible to the average man.\n\nIt is, of course, the machine process itself which has created these\ncomplications. Men are forced to buy and sell in markets that for many\ncommodities are world-wide: they do not buy and sell in one market\nbut in many markets, in markets for raw materials, in markets for\nsemi-finished goods, in wholesale and retail markets, in labor [p247]\nmarkets, in the money market. They employ and are employed in corporate\norganizations which are owned here, there, and everywhere. They compete\nnot only with their obvious competitors in the same line of business,\nbut with competitors in wholly different lines of business, automobiles\nwith railroads, railroads with ships, cotton goods with silk and silk\nwith artificial silk, pianos with furs and cigarettes with chewing gum.\nThe modern environment is invisible, complex, without settled plan,\nsubtly and swiftly changing, offering innumerable choices, demanding\ngreat knowledge and imaginative effort to comprehend it.\n\nIt is not a social order at all as the Greek city state or the feudal\nsociety was a social order. It is rather a field for careers, an arena\nof talents, an ordeal by trial and error, and a risky speculation. No\nman has an established position in the modern world. There is no system\nof rights and duties to which he is clearly subject. He moves among\nthese complexities which are shrouded in obscurity, making the best he\ncan out of what little it is possible for him to know.\n\n\n5. _Old-Style Reform and Revolution_\n\nNaive capitalism\u2014that is to say, the theory of each for himself\naccording to such light as he might happen to possess\u2014produced such\nmonstrous evils the world over that an anti-capitalist reaction was\nthe inevitable result. What had happened was that the most intricate\nand consequential technology which man has ever employed on this\nplanet was given over to the direction of a class of enterprising,\nacquisitive, uneducated, and undisciplined [p248] men. No doubt it\ncould not have been otherwise. The only discipline that was known was\nthe discipline of custom in a society of farmers, hand-workers, and\ntraders. The only education available was one based on the premises\nof the past. The revolution in human affairs produced by the machine\nbegan slowly, and no one could have anticipated its course. It would\nbe absurd, therefore, to complain in retrospect over the fact that\nno one was prepared for the industrial changes which took place.\nThe only absurdity, and it is still a prevalent one, is to go on\nsupposing that the political philosophy and the \u201ceconomic laws\u201d which\nwere extemporized to justify the behavior of the first bewildered\ncapitalists have any real bearing upon modern industry.\n\nBut it is almost equally absurd to take too seriously the \u201creforms\u201d\nand \u201csolutions\u201d which were devised by kindhearted men to alleviate\nthe pains suffered by those who were hurt by the results of this\nearly capitalist control of the machine. These proposals, when they\nare examined, turn out almost invariably to have been proposals for\ncoercing or for abolishing the then masters of industry. I do not\nmean to deny the utility of the long series of legislative enactments\nwhich began about the middle of the Nineteenth Century and are still\nbeing elaborated. The factory acts, the regulatory laws, the measures\ndesigned to protect the consumers against fraud were, looked at singly,\ngood, bad, or indifferent. As a whole they were a necessary attempt\nto police those who had been left free to pursue their own interest\ntheir own way. But when it has been said that they were necessary,\nand that they are still necessary, it is important to realize just\nwhat they [p249] imply. They imply that the masters of industry are\nunregenerate and will remain unregenerate. The whole effort to police\ncapitalism assumes that the capitalist can be civilized only by means\nof the police. The trouble with this theory is that there is no way\nto make sure that the policemen will themselves be civilized. It\npresupposes that somehow politicians and office-holders will be wise\nenough and disinterested enough to make business men do what they would\nnot otherwise do. The fundamental problem, which is to find a way of\ndirecting industry wisely, is not solved. It is merely deposited on the\ndoorsteps of the politician.\n\nThe revolutionary programs sponsored by the socialists in the half\ncentury before the Great War were based on the notion that it is\nimpossible to police the capitalist-employers and that, therefore, they\nshould be abolished. In their place functionaries were to be installed.\nThe theory was that these functionaries, being hired by the state and\nbeing deprived of all incentive for personal profit, would administer\nthe industrial machine disinterestedly. The trouble with this theory is\nin its assumption that the removal of one kind of temptation, namely,\nthe possibility of direct personal pecuniary profit\u2014will make the\nfunctionaries mature and disinterested men.\n\nThis is nothing but a new variant of the ascetic principle that it is\npossible to shut off an undesirable impulse by thwarting it. Human\nnature does not work that way. The mere frustration of an impulse like\nacquisitiveness produces either some new expression of that impulse or\ndisorders due to its frustration. It produces, that is to say, either\ncorruption or the lethargy, the pedantry, and the [p250] officiousness\nwhich are the diseases of bureaucracy the world over. The socialists\nare right, as the early Christians were right, in their profound\ndistrust of the acquisitive instinct as the dominant motive in society.\nBut they are wrong in supposing that by transferring the command of\nindustry from business men to socialist officials they can in any\nfundamental sense alter the acquisitive instinct. That can be done only\nby refining the human character through a better understanding of the\nenvironment. I do not mean to say that a revolution like the Russian\ndoes not sweep away a vast amount of accumulated rubbish. I am talking\nnot about the salutary destruction which may accompany a revolution,\nbut of the problem which confronts the successful revolutionists when\nthey have to carry on the necessary affairs of men.\n\nWhen that time comes they are bound to find that the administration\nof industry under socialism no less than under capitalism depends\nupon the character of the administrators. Corrupt, stupid, grasping\nfunctionaries will make at least as big a muddle of socialism as\nstupid, selfish, and acquisitive employers can make of capitalism.\nThere is no escape from this elementary truth, and all social policies\nwhich attempt to ignore it must come to grief. They are essentially\nutopian. The early doctrine of _laissez-faire_ was utopian because it\nassumed that unregenerate men were destined somehow to muddle their\nway to a harmonious result. The early socialism was utopian because it\nassumed that these same unregenerate men, once the laws of property had\nbeen altered, would somehow muddle their way to a harmonious result.\nBoth ignored the chief lesson of human experience, which is [p251] the\ninsight of high religion, that unregenerate men can only muddle into\nmuddle.\n\nA dim recognition of this truth has helped to inspire the procedure of\nthe two most recent manifestations of the revolutionary spirit. I refer\nto bolshevism and to fascism. It is proper, I believe, to talk of them\nas one phenomenon for their fundamental similarities, as most everyone\nbut the bolshevists and the fascists themselves has noted, are much\ngreater than their superficial differences. They were attempts to cure\nthe evils resulting from the breakdown of a somewhat primitive form\nof capitalism. In neither Russia nor Italy had modern industrialism\npassed beyond its adolescent phase. In both countries the prevailing\nsocial order for the great mass of people was still pre-machine and\npre-industrial. In both countries the acids of modernity had not yet\neaten deeply into the religious disposition of the people. In both\ncountries the natural pattern of all government was still the primitive\npattern of the hierarchy with an absolute sovereign at the top. The\nbolshevik dictatorship and the fascist dictatorship, underneath all\ntheir modernist labels and theories, are feudal military organizations\nattempting to subdue and administer the machine technology.\n\nThe theorists of the two dictatorships are, however, men educated under\nmodern influences, and the result is that their theories are an attempt\nto explain the primitive behavior of the two dictatorships in terms\nwhich are consistent with modern ideas. The formula reached in both\ninstances is the same one. The dictatorships are said to be temporary.\nTheir purpose, we are told, is to put the [p252] new social order\ninto effect, and to keep it going long enough by dictation from on top\nto give time for a new generation to grow up which will be purged of\nthose vices which would make the new order unworkable. The bolshevists\nand fascists regard themselves as ever so much more realistic than\nthe old democratic socialists and the _laissez-faire_ liberals whom\nthey have executed, exiled, or dosed with castor oil. In an important\nsense they are more realistic. They have recognized that a substitute\nfor primitive capitalism cannot be inaugurated or administered by a\ngeneration which has been schooled in the ways of primitive capitalism.\nAnd therefore the oligarchy of dictators, as a conscious, enlightened,\nsuperior, and heavily armed minority, propose to administer the\nindustrial machine as trustees until there is a generation ready to\naccept the responsibilities.\n\nIt would be idle to predict that they will not succeed. But it is\nreasonable, I believe, to predict that if they succeed it will\nbe because they are administering relatively simple industrial\narrangements. It is precisely because the economic system of Russia is\nstill fundamentally pre-capitalist and pre-mechanical that the feudal\norganization of the bolshevists is most likely to survive. Because\nthe economic system of Italy is more modern than Russia\u2019s, the future\nof the fascist dictatorship is much less assured. For insofar as the\nmachine technology is advanced, it becomes complex, delicate, and\ndifficult to manage by commands from the top.\n\n\n6. _The Diffusion of the Acquisitive Instinct_\n\nWhile both the bolshevists and the fascists look upon [p253]\nthemselves as pathfinders of progress, it is fairly clear, I think,\nthat they are, in the literal meaning of the term, reactionary. They\nhave won their victories among the people to whom modern large scale\nindustrial organization is still an unnatural and alien thing. It is no\naccident that fascism or bolshevism took root in Italy and Spain, but\nnot in Germany and England, in Hungary but not in Austria, in Poland\nbut not in Czechoslovakia, in Russia but not in Scandinavia, in China\nbut not in Japan, in Central America but not in Canada or the United\nStates. Dictatorship, based on a military hierarchy, administering\nthe affairs of the community on behalf of the \u201cnation\u201d or of the\n\u201cproletariat,\u201d is nothing but a return to the natural organization of\nsociety in the pre-machine age. Some countries, like Russia, Mexico,\nand China, for example, are still living in the pre-machine age.\nOthers, like Italy, had become only partially industrialized when they\nwere subjected to such strains by the War that they reverted to the\nfeudal pattern of behavior. Unable to master the industrial process by\nmethods which are appropriate to it, the fascists and the bolshevists\nare attempting to master it by methods which antedate it. That is why\nmilitary dictatorship in a country like Mexico may be looked upon as\nthe normal type of social control, whereas in Italy it is regressive\nand neurotic. Feudal habits are appropriate to a feudal society; in\na semi-industrialized nation they are a social disease. It is the\ndisease of frightened and despairing men who, having failed to adjust\nthemselves to the reality of the industrial process, try, by main\nforce and awkwardness, to adjust the machine process to a pre-machine\nmentality. [p254]\n\nThe more primitive the machine process is\u2014that is, the more nearly it\nresembles the petty handicrafts of earlier days\u2014the better are the\nchances for survival of a bolshevist or fascist dictatorship. Where\nthe machine technology is really established and advanced it is simply\nunmanageable by militarized functionaries. For when the process has\nbecome infinitely complicated, the subdivision of function is carried\nso far, the internal adjustments are so numerous and so varied that\nno collection of oligarchs in a capital city, however much they may\nlook like supermen, can possibly direct the industrial system. In its\nadvanced stages, as it now exists in England, Germany, or the United\nStates, nobody comprehends the system as a whole. One has only to\nglance over the financial pages of an American newspaper, to look at\nthe list of corporations doing business, to try and imagine the myriad\ndaily decisions at a thousand points which their business involves,\nin order to realize the bewildering complexity of modern industrial\nsociety. To suppose that all that can be administered, or even\ndirected, from any central point by any human brain, by any cabinet of\nofficeholders or cabal of revolutionists, is simply to have failed to\ntake it in. Here is the essential reason why bolshevism and fascism\nare, as we say, un-American. They are no less un-Belgian, un-German,\nun-English. For they are unindustrial.\n\nThe same reasons which make dictatorship unworkable are rapidly\nrendering obsolete the attempts to reform industry by policing it.\nEvery year as the machine technology becomes more elaborated, the\nlegislative control for which the pre-war progressives fought becomes\nless [p255] effective. It becomes more and more difficult for\nlegislatures to make laws to protect the workers which really fit the\nrapidly changing conditions of work. Hence the tendency to put the real\nlaw-making power in the hands of administrative officials and judges\nwho can adjust the general purpose of the law to the unclassifiable\nfacts of industry. The whole attempt to regulate public utilities in\nthe interest of the consumer is chaotic, for these organizations, by\ntheir intricacies, their scale, and their constant revolutions in\ntechnology, tend to escape the jurisdiction of officials exercising\na local jurisdiction. The current outcry against the multiplication\nof laws and the meddling of legislatures is in part, but not wholly,\nthe outcry of old-fashioned business men demanding their old natural\nliberty to pursue their own interest their own way. The outcry is\ndue no less to a recognition that the industrial process is becoming\ntoo subtly organized to be policed successfully by the wholesale,\nuninformed enactments of legislatures.\n\nYet the very thing which makes an advanced industrial organization\ntoo complex to be directed by a dictatorship, or to be policed by\ndemocratic politicians, is forcing the leaders of industry to evolve\nforms of self-control. When I say that they are being forced to do this\nI am not referring to those ostentatiously benevolent things which are\ndone now and then as sops to Cerberus. There is a certain amount of\nreform undertaken voluntarily by men who profess to fear \u2018bolshevism,\u2019\nand if not bolshevism, then Congress. That is relatively unimportant.\nSo also is the discovery that it pays to cultivate the good will of\nthe public. What I am referring to is the fact that the [p256] sheer\ncomplexity of the industrial system would make it unmanageable to\nbusiness men, no less than to politicians or dictators, if business men\nwere not learning to organize its control.\n\nIt is the necessity of stabilizing their own business, of directing\ntechnical processes which are beyond the understanding of stockholders,\nof adjusting the supply and demand of the multitudinous elements\nthey deal in, which is the compelling force behind that divorce\nbetween management and ownership, that growing use of experts and of\nstatistical measurements, and that development of trade associations,\nof conferences, committees, and councils, with which modern industry\nis honeycombed. The captain of industry in the romantic sense tends to\ndisappear in highly evolved industrial organizations. His thundering\ncommands are replaced by the decisions of executives who consult with\nrepresentatives of the interests involved and check their opinions\nby the findings of experts. The greater the corporation the more\nthe shareholders and the directors lose the actual direction of the\ninstitution. They cannot direct the corporation because they do\nnot really know what it is and what it is doing. That knowledge is\nsubdivided among the executives and bureau chiefs and consultants, all\nof them on salary; each of them is so relatively small a factor in the\nwhole that his personal success is in very large degree bound up with\nthe success of the institution. A certain amount of jealousy, intrigue,\nand destructive pushing, of office politics, in short, naturally\nprevails, men being what they are. But as compared with the old-style\nbusiness man, the ordinary executive in a great corporation is\nsomething quite strange. He is [p257] so little the monarch of all he\nsurveys, his experience is so continually with stubborn and irreducible\nfacts, he is so much compelled to adjust his own preferences to the\npreferences of others, that he becomes a relatively disinterested\nperson. The more clearly he realizes the nature of his position in\nindustry, the more he tends to submit his desires to the discipline of\nobjective information. And the more he does this the less dominated\nhe is by the acquisitiveness of immaturity. He may on the side gamble\nacquisitively in the stock market or at the race track, but in relation\nto his business his acquisitive instinct tends to become diffused and\nto be absorbed in the job itself.\n\n\n7. _Ideals_\n\nIt is my impression that when machine industry reaches a certain scale\nof complexity it exerts such pressure upon the men who run it that they\ncannot help socializing it. They are subject to a kind of economic\nselection under which only those men survive who are capable of taking\na somewhat disinterested view of their work. A mature industry, because\nit is too subtly organized to be run by naively passionate men, puts a\npremium upon men whose characters are sufficiently matured to make them\nrespect reality and to discount their own prejudices.\n\nWhen the machine technology is really advanced, that is to say when it\nhas drawn great masses of men within the orbit of its influence, when\na corporation has become really great, the old distinction between\npublic and private interest becomes very dim. I think it is destined\nlargely to disappear. It is difficult even to-day to say [p258]\nwhether the great railways, the General Electric Company, the United\nStates Steel Corporation, the bigger insurance companies and banks are\npublic or private institutions. When institutions reach a point where\nthe legal owners are virtually disfranchised, when the direction is in\nthe hands of salaried executives, technicians, and experts who hold\nthemselves more or less accountable in standards of conduct to their\nfellow professionals, when the ultimate control is looked upon by the\ndirectors not as \u201cbusiness\u201d but as a trust, it is not fanciful to say,\nas Mr. Keynes has said, that \u201cthe battle of socialism against unlimited\nprivate profit is being won in detail hour by hour.\u201d\n\nInsofar as industry itself evolves its own control, it will regain its\nliberty from external interference. To say that is to say simply that\nthe \u201cnatural liberty\u201d of the early business man was unworkable because\nthe early business man was unregenerate: he was immature, and he was\ntherefore acquisitive. The only kind of liberty which is workable in\nthe real world is the liberty of the disinterested man, of the man who\nhas transformed his passions by an understanding of necessity. He can,\nas Confucius said, follow what his heart desires without transgressing\nwhat is right. For he has learned to desire what is right.\n\nThe more perfectly we understand the implications of the machine\ntechnology upon which our civilization is based, the easier it will be\nfor us to live with it. We shall discern the ideals of our industry in\nthe necessities of industry itself. They are the direction in which it\nmust evolve if it is to fulfill itself. That is what ideals are. They\nare not hallucinations. They are not a collection [p259] of pretty and\ncasual preferences. Ideals are an imaginative understanding of that\nwhich is desirable in that which is possible. As we discern the ideals\nof the machine technology we can consciously pursue them, knowing that\nwe are not vainly trying to impose our casual prejudices, but that we\nare in harmony with the age we live in.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII [p260]\n\nGOVERNMENT IN THE GREAT SOCIETY\n\n\n1. _Loyalty_\n\nThe difficulty of discovering an industrial philosophy which fits\nmachine industry on a large scale has proved less trying than the\ndiscovery of a political philosophy which fits the modern state. I do\nnot know why this should be so unless it be that, as compared with\npoliticians, business men have had a closer opportunity to observe\nand more pressing reasons for trying to understand the transformation\nwrought by machinery and scientific invention. Certainly even the best\npolitical thinking is notably inferior in realism and in pertinence\nto the economic thinking which now plays so important a part in the\ndirection of industry. To a very considerable degree the writer on\npolitics to-day is about where the economist was when all economic\ntheory began and for all practical purposes seemed to end with Robinson\nCrusoe and his man Friday. Nobody takes political science very\nseriously, for nobody is convinced that it is a science or that it has\nany important bearing on politics.\n\nIn very considerable measure political theory in the modern world\nis sterilized by its own ideas. There have been passed down from\ngeneration to generation a collection of concepts which are so hallowed\nand so dense that their only use is to excite emotions and to obscure\ninsight. [p261] How many of us really know what we are talking\nabout when we use words like the state, sovereignty, independence,\ndemocracy, representative government, national honor, liberty, and\nloyalty? Very few of us, I think, could define any of these terms\nunder cross-examination, though we are prepared to shed blood, or at\nleast ink, in their behalf. These terms have ceased to be intellectual\ninstruments for apprehending the facts we have to deal with and have\nbecome push buttons which touch off emotional reflexes.\n\nAs good a way as any to raise the temperature of political debate is to\ntalk about loyalty. Everybody regards himself as loyal and resents any\nimputation upon his loyalty, yet even a cursory inspection of this term\nwill show, I think, that it may mean any number of different things.\nIt is clearest when used in a military sense. A loyal soldier is one\nwho obeys his superior officer. A loyal officer is one who obeys his\ncommander-in-chief. But just exactly what is a loyal commander-in-chief\ncannot be told so easily. He is loyal to the nation. He is loyal to the\nbest interests of the nation. But what those best interests may be,\nwhether they mean making peace or carrying the war into the enemy\u2019s\ncountry, is an exceedingly debatable question. When the citizen\u2019s\nloyalty is in question the whole matter becomes immensely subtle. Must\nhe be loyal to every law and every command issued by the established\nauthorities, kings, legislators, and aldermen? There are many who would\nsay that this is the definition of civic loyalty, to obey the law\nwithout qualifications while it is a law. But such definition puts the\ntaint of disloyalty on almost all citizens [p262] of the modern state.\nFor the fact is that all the laws on the books are not even known, and\nthat a considerable portion are entirely disregarded, and many it is\nimpossible to obey. The definition, moreover, places outside the pale\nmany who rank as great patriots, men who defied the law out of loyalty\nto some principle which the lawmakers have rejected. But what makes\nmatters even more complicated is the fact that in modern communities\nthe principle is accepted that the commands of the established\nauthorities not only may be criticized but that they ought to be.\n\nAt this stage of political development the military element in\nloyalty has virtually disappeared. The idea of toleration, of freedom\nof speech, and above all the idea of organized opposition, alters\nradically the attributes of the sovereign. For a sovereign who has to\nbe obeyed but not believed in, whose decisions are legitimate matters\nof dispute, who may be displaced by his bitterest opponents, has lost\nall semblance of omnipotence and omniscience. \u201cHe has sovereignty,\u201d\nwrote Jean Bodin, \u201cwho, after God, acknowledges no one greater than\nhimself.\u201d Our governors command only for the time being\u2014and within\nstrict limits. Their authority is only such as they can win and hold.\nPolitical loyalty under these conditions, whatever else it may be,\nis certainly not unqualified allegiance to those who hold office, to\nthe policies they pursue, or even to the laws they enact. Neither the\ngovernment as it exists, nor its conduct, nor even the constitution by\nwhich it operates, exercises any ultimate claim upon the loyalty of the\ncitizen. The most one can say, I think, is that the loyal citizen is\none who loves his country and regards the status quo as an arrangement\nwhich he [p263] is at liberty to modify only by argument, according to\nwell-understood rules, without violence, and with due regard for the\ninterests and opinions of his fellow men. If he is loyal to this ideal\nof political conduct he is as loyal as the modern state can force him\nto be, or as it is desirable that he should be.\n\n\n2. _The Evolution of Loyalty_\n\nBroadly speaking, the evolution of political loyalty passes through\nthree phases. In the earliest, the most primitive, and for almost all\nmen the most natural, loyalty is allegiance to a chieftain; in the\nmiddle phase it tends to become allegiance to an institution\u2014that is\nto say, to a corporate, rather than to a human, personality; and in the\nlast phase it becomes allegiance to a pattern of conduct. The kind of\ngovernment which any community is capable of operating is very largely\ndetermined by the kind of loyalty of which its members are capable.\n\nIt is plain, for example, that among a people who are capable only of\nloyalty to another human being the political system is bound to take\nthe shape of a hierarchy, in which each man is loyal to his superior,\nand the man at the top is loyal to God alone. Such a society will be\nfeudal, military, theocratic. If it is successfully organized it will\nbe an ordered despotism, culminating, as the feudal system did, in\nGod\u2019s Vice-gerent on earth. If it is unsuccessfully organized, as for\nexample, in the more backward countries of Central America to-day,\nthe system of personal allegiances will produce little factions each\nwith its chief, all of them contending for, without quite achieving,\nabsolute power. This type of organization is so fundamentally [p264]\nhuman that it prevails even in communities which think they have\noutgrown it. Thus it appears in what Americans call a political\nmachine, which is nothing but a hierarchy of professional politicians\nheld together by profitable personal loyalties. The political boss\nis a demilitarized chieftain in the direct line of descent from his\nprototypes.\n\nThe modern world has come to regard organization on the basis of human\nallegiances as alien and dangerous. Yet the political machine exists\neven in the most advanced communities. The reason for that is obvious.\nWith the enfranchisement of virtually the whole adult population,\npolitical power has passed into the hands of a great mass of people\nmost of whom are altogether incapable of loyalty to institutions,\nmuch less to ideas. They do not understand them. For these voters\nthe only kind of political behavior is through allegiance to a human\nsuperior, and modern democracies are considered fortunate if the\npolitical leaders and bosses on whom these human allegiances converge\nare relatively loyal to the institutions of the country. This, for\nexample, is the meaning of the dramatic speech in which President\nCalles on September 1, 1928, voluntarily renounced the continuation of\nhis own dictatorship. \u201cFor the first time in Mexican history,\u201d he said,\n\u201cthe Republic faces a situation (owing to the assassination of General\nObregon) whose dominant note is the lack of a military leader, which\nis going to make it finally possible for us to direct the policy of\nthe country into truly institutional channels, striving to pass once\nfor all from our historical condition of one-man rule to the higher,\nmore dignified, more useful, and more civilized condition of a nation\nof laws and institutions.\u201d It is [p265] hardly to be supposed that\nPresident Calles thought that the Mexican people as a whole could pass\nonce for all from their historical condition of one-man rule. What he\nmeant was that the political chieftains to whom the people were loyal\nought thereafter to arrange the succession and to exercise power not\nas seemed desirable to them, or as they might imagine that God had\nprivately commanded them, but in accordance with objective rules of\npolitical conduct.\n\nThe conceptions of sovereignty which we inherit are derived from the\nprimitive system of personal allegiances. That is why the conception\nof sovereignty has become increasingly confused as modern civilization\nhas become more complex. In the Middle Ages the theory reached its\nsymmetrical perfection. Mankind was conceived as a great organism in\nwhich the spiritual and temporal hierarchies were united as the soul\nis united with the body in \u201can inseverable connection and an unbroken\ninteraction which must display itself in every part and also throughout\nthe whole.\u201d But of course even in the Middle Ages the symmetry of this\nconception was marred by the fierce disputes between the Emperors and\nthe Popes. After the Sixteenth Century the whole conception began to\ndisintegrate. There appeared a congeries of monarchs each claiming to\nrule in his territory by divine right. But obviously when there are\nmany agents of the Lord ruling men, and when they do not agree, the\ntheory of sovereignty in its moral aspects is in grave difficulties.\n\nAs time went on, limitations of all kinds began to be imposed upon\nsovereigns. The existence at the same time of many sovereigns produced\nthe need of international law, for obviously there could have been no\ninternational [p266] law in a world where all of mankind, barring\ninfidels who did not have to be considered, were under one sovereign\npower. The limitations imposed by international law from without were\naccompanied by limitations imposed from within.\n\nThese limitations from within were based on quite practical\nconsiderations. There grew up slowly in the Middle Ages the idea\nthat the State originated \u201cin a contract of Subjection made between\nPeople and Ruler.\u201d The first modern writer to argue effectively that\ngovernment was based not on a warrant from the Lord, but on a \u201csocial\ncompact\u201d is said to have been Richard Hooker, a clergyman of the\nEstablished Church, who held, in 1594, that the royal authority was\nderived from a contract between the king and the people. This idea\nsoon became popular, for it suited the needs of all those who did not\nparticipate in the privileges of the absolute monarchy. It suited not\nonly the Church of England, when as in Hooker\u2019s time it was assailed,\nbut also the dissenting churches, and then the rising middle class\nwhose ambitions were frustrated by the landed nobles with the king at\ntheir head. The doctrine of the social compact was expounded in many\ndifferent forms in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries by men like\nMilton, Spinoza, Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau.\n\nAs an historical theory to explain the origin of human society it\nis of course demonstrably false, but as a weapon for breaking up\nthe concentration of sovereign power and distributing it, the idea\nhas played a mighty role in history. It is almost certain to appear\nwherever there is an absolutism which men feel the need of checking.\nBut the [p267] theory of the social compact disappears when power\nhas become so widely diffused that no one can any longer locate\nthe sovereign. That is what is happening in the advanced modern\ncommunities. The sovereign, whom it was once desirable to put under\ncontract, has become so anonymous and diffuse that his very existence\nto-day is a legal fiction rather than a political fact. And loyalty\nby the same token is no longer provided with a personal superior of\nindubitable prestige to which it can be attached.\n\n\n3. _Pluralism_\n\nThe relationship between lord and vassals in which each man attaches\nhimself for better or worse to some superior person tends gradually to\ndisappear in the modern world. Its passing was somewhat prematurely\nannounced by the Declaration of the Rights of Man; it did not wholly\ndisappear by the dissolution of the bonds which bound one man to\nanother, for the psychological bonds are stronger than the legal.\nNevertheless the effect of modern civilization is to dissolve these\npsychological bonds, to break up clannishness and personal dependence.\nMen and women alike tend to become more or less independent persons\nrather than to remain members of a social organism.\n\nThe reason for this lies in the diversification of their interests.\nLife in the ancestral order was not only simpler and contained within\nnarrower limits than it is to-day, but there was a far greater unity\nin the activity of each individual. Working the land, fighting,\nraising a family, worshipping, were so closely related that they could\nbe governed by a very simple allegiance to the chief of the tribe\n[p268] or the lord of the manor. In the modern world this synthesis\nhas disintegrated and the activities of a man cannot be directed by a\nsimple allegiance. Each man finds himself the center of a complex of\nloyalties. He is loyal to his government, he is loyal to his state, he\nis loyal to his village, he is loyal to his neighborhood. He has his\nown family. He has his wife\u2019s family. His wife has her family. He has\nhis church. His wife may have a different church. He may be an employer\nof thousands of men. He may be an employee. He must be loyal to his\ncorporation, to his trade union, or his professional society. He is\na buyer in many different markets. He is a seller in many different\nmarkets. He is a creditor and a debtor. He owns shares in several\nindustries. He belongs to a political party, to clubs, to a social set.\nThe multiplicity of his interests makes it impossible for him to give\nhis whole allegiance to any person or to any institution.\n\nIt may be, in fact for most men it must be, that in each of these\nassociations he follows a leader. In any considerable number of people\nit is certain that they will group themselves in hierarchical form.\nIn every club, in every social circle, in every trade union, in every\nstockholders\u2019 meeting there are leaders and their lieutenants and the\nled. But these allegiances are partial. Because a man has so many\nloyalties each loyalty commands only a segment of himself. They are\nnot, therefore, whole-hearted loyalties like that of a good soldier\nto his captain. They are qualified, calculated, debatable, and they\nare sanctioned not by inherent authority but by expediency or inertia.\n[p269]\n\nThe outward manifestation of these complex loyalties of the modern man\nis the multitude of institutions through which the affairs of mankind\nare directed. Now since each of these corporate entities represents\nonly a part of any man\u2019s interest, except perhaps in the case of the\npaid executive secretary, none of these institutions can count to the\nbitter end upon the undivided loyalty of all its members. The conflicts\nbetween institutions are in considerable measure conflicts of interest\nwithin the same individuals. There is a point where the activity of a\nman\u2019s trade union may so seriously affect the value of the securities\nhe owns that he does not know which way his interest lies. The\ncriss-crossing of loyalties is so great in an advanced community that\nno grouping is self-contained. No grouping, therefore, can maintain a\nmilitary discipline or a military character. For when men strive too\nfiercely as members of any one group they soon find that they are at\nwar with themselves as members of another group.\n\nThe statement that modern society is pluralistic cannot, then, be\ndismissed as a newfangled notion invented by theorists. It is a sober\ndescription of the actual facts. Each man has countless interests\nthrough which he is attached to a very complex social situation.\nThe complexity of his allegiance cannot fail to be reflected in his\npolitical conduct.\n\n\n4. _Live and Let Live_\n\nOne of the inevitable effects of being attached to many different,\nsomewhat conflicting, interdependent groupings is to blunt the edges\nof partisanship. It is possible to [p270] be fiercely partisan only\nas against those who are wholly alien. It is a fair generalization to\nsay that the fiercest Democrats are to be found where there are the\nfewest Republicans, the most bloodthirsty patriots in the safest swivel\nchairs. Where men are personally entangled with the groups that are\nin potential conflict, where Democrats and Republicans belong to the\nsame country club and where Protestants and Catholics marry each other,\nit is psychologically impossible to be sharply intolerant. That is\nwhy astute directors of corporations adopt the policy of distributing\ntheir securities as widely as they can; they know quite well that\neven the most modest shareholder is in some measure insulated against\nanti-corporate agitation. It is inherent in the complex pluralism of\nthe modern world that men should behave moderately, and experience\namply confirms this conclusion.\n\nThere is little doubt that in the great metropolitan centers there\nexists a disposition to live and let live, to give and take, to agree\nand to agree to differ, which is not to be found in simple homogeneous\ncommunities. In complex communities life quickly becomes intolerable if\nmen are intolerant. For they are in daily contact with almost everybody\nand everything they could conceivably wish to persecute. Their victims\nwould be their customers, their employees, their landlords, their\ntenants and perhaps their wives\u2019 relations. But in a simple community\na kind of pastoral intolerance for everything alien adds a quaint\nflavor to living. For the most part it vents itself in the open air.\nThe terrible indictments drawn up in a Mississippi village against the\nPope in Rome, the Russian nation, the vices of Paris, and the [p271]\nenormities of New York are in the main quite lyrical. The Pope may\nnever even know what the Mississippi preacher thinks of him and New\nYork continues to go to, but never apparently to reach, hell.\n\nWhen an agitator wishes to start a crusade, a religious revival, an\ninquisition, or some sort of jingo excitement, the further he goes from\nthe centers of modern civilization the more following he can attract.\nIt is in the backwoods and in the hill country, in kitchens and in\nold men\u2019s clubs, that fanaticism can be kindled. The urban crowd, if\nit has been urban for any length of time and has become used to its\nenvironment, may be fickle, faddish, nervous, unstable, but it lacks\nthe concentration of energy to become fiercely excited for any length\nof time about anything. At its worst it is a raging mob, but it is\nnot persistently fanatical. There are too many things to attract its\nattention for it to remain preoccupied for long with any one thing.\n\nTo responsible men of affairs the complexity of modern civilization is\na daily lesson in the necessity of not pressing any claim too far, of\nunderstanding opposing points of view, of seeking to reconcile them, of\nconducting matters so that there is some kind of harmony in a plural\nsociety. This accounts, I think, for the increasing use of political\ndevices which are wholly unknown in simpler societies. There is, for\nexample, the ideal of a civil service. It is wholly modern and it is\nquite revolutionary. For it assumes that a great deal of the business\nof the state can and must be carried on by a class of men who have no\npersonal and no party allegiance, who are in fact neutral in politics\nand concerned only with the execution [p272] of a task. I know how\nimperfectly the civil service works, but that it should exist at all,\nand that the ideal it embodies should be generally acknowledged,\nis profound testimony as to how inherent in the modern situation\nis the concept of disinterestedness. The theory of an independent\njudiciary arises out of the same need for disinterested judgment.\nEven more significant, perhaps, is the use in all political debates\nof the evidence of technicians, experts, and neutral investigators.\nThe statesman who imagined he had thought up a solution for a social\nproblem while he was in his bath would be a good deal of a joke; even\nif he had stumbled on a good idea, he would not dare to commit himself\nto it without elaborate preliminary surveys, investigations, hearings,\nconferences, and the like.\n\nMen occupying responsible posts in the Great Society have become aware,\nin short, that their guesses and their prejudices are untrustworthy,\nand that successful decisions can be made only in a neutral spirit by\ncomparing their hypotheses with their understanding of reality.\n\n\n5. _Government in the People_\n\nIt has been the cause of considerable wonder to many persons that the\nmost complex modern communities, where the old loyalties are most\ncompletely dissolved, where authority has so little prestige, where\nmoral codes are held in such small esteem, should nevertheless have\nproved to be far more impervious to the strain of war and revolution\nthan the older and simpler types of civilization. It has been Russia,\nChina, Poland, Italy, Spain, rather than England, Germany, Belgium,\nand the United States which have been most disorderly in the post-war\n[p273] period. The contrary might have been expected. It might well\nhave been anticipated that the highly organized, delicately poised\nsocial mechanisms would disintegrate the most easily.\n\nYet it is now evident why modern civilization is so durable. Its\nstrength lies in its sensitiveness. The effect of bad decisions is\nso quickly felt, the consequences are so inescapably serious, that\ncorrective action is almost immediately set in motion. A simple society\nlike Russia can let its railroads go gradually to wrack and ruin, but\na complex society like London or New York is instantly disorganized\nif the railroads do not run on schedule. So many persons are at once\naffected in so many vitally important ways that remedies have to be\nfound immediately. This does not mean that modern states are governed\nas wisely as they should be, or that they do not neglect much that they\ncannot really afford to neglect. They blunder along badly enough in all\nconscience. There is nevertheless a minimum of order and of necessary\nservices which they have to provide for themselves. They have to keep\ngoing. They cannot afford the luxury of prolonged disorder or of a\ngeneral paralysis. Their own necessities are dependent on such fragile\nstructures, and everyone is so much affected, that when a modern state\nis in trouble it can draw upon incomparable reserves of public spirit.\n\n\u201cI made ninety-one local committees in ninety-one local communities to\nlook after the Mississippi flood,\u201d Mr. Hoover once explained, \u201cthat\u2019s\nwhat I principally did.... You say: \u2018a couple of thousand refugees are\ncoming. They\u2019ve got to have accommodations. Huts. [p274] Water-mains.\nSewers. Streets. Dining-halls. Meals. Doctors. Everything.\u2019... So\nyou go away and they go ahead and just simply do it. Of all those\nninety-one committees there was just one that fell down.\u201d Mr. Hard,\nwho reports these remarks, goes on to make Mr. Hoover say that: \u201cNo\nother Main Street in the world could have done what the American\nMain Street did in the Mississippi flood; and Europe may jeer as it\npleases at our mass production and our mass organization and our mass\neducation. The safety of the United States is its multitudinous mass\nleadership.\u201d Allowing for the fact that these remarks appeared in a\ncampaign biography at a time when Mr. Hoover\u2019s friends were rather\nconcerned about demonstrating the intensity of his patriotism, there\nis nevertheless substantial truth in them. I am inclined to believe\nthat \u201cmultitudinous mass leadership\u201d will be found wherever industrial\nsociety is firmly established, that is to say, wherever a people has\nlived with the machine process long enough to acquire the aptitudes\nthat it calls for. This capacity to organize, to administer affairs,\nto deal realistically with necessity, can hardly be due to some\ncongenital superiority in the American people. They are, after all\nonly transplanted Europeans. That their aptitudes may be somewhat more\nhighly developed is not, however, inconceivable: the new civilization\nmay have developed more freely in a land where it did not have to\ncontend with the institutions of a military, feudal, and clerical\nsociety.\n\nThe essential point is that as the machine technology makes social\nrelations complex, it dissolves the habits of obedience and dependence;\nit disintegrates the centralization [p275] of power and of leadership;\nit diffuses the experience of responsible decision throughout the\npopulation, compelling each man to acquire the habit of making\njudgments instead of looking for orders, of adjusting his will to the\nwills of others instead of trusting to custom and organic loyalties.\nThe real law under which modern society is administered is neither the\naccumulated precedents of tradition nor a set of commands originating\non high which are imposed like orders in an army upon the rank and file\nbelow. The real law in the modern state is the multitude of little\ndecisions made daily by millions of men.\n\nBecause this is so, the character of government is changing radically.\nThis change is obscured for us in our theorizing by the fact that our\npolitical ideas derive from a different kind of social experience.\nWe think of governing as the act of a person; for the actual king we\nhave tried to substitute a corporate king, which we call the nation,\nthe people, the majority, public opinion, or the general will. But\nnone of these entities has the attributes of a king, and the failure\nof political thinking to lay the ghosts of monarchy leads to endless\nmisunderstanding. The crucial difference between modern politics and\nthat to which mankind has been accustomed is that the power to act and\nto compel obedience is almost never sufficiently centralized nowadays\nto be exercised by one will. The power is distributed and qualified so\nthat power is exerted not by command but by interaction.\n\nThe prime business of government, therefore, is not to direct the\naffairs of the community, but to harmonize the direction which the\ncommunity gives to its affairs. [p276] The Congress of the United\nStates, for example, does not consult the conscience and its God and\nthen decree a tariff law. It enacts the kind of tariff which at the\nmoment represents the most stable compromise among the interests which\nhave made themselves heard. The law may be outrageously unfair. But if\nit is, that is because those whose interests are neglected did not at\nthat time have the power to make themselves felt. If the law favors\nmanufacturers rather than farmers, it is because the manufacturers\nat that time have greater weight in the social equilibrium than the\nfarmers. That may sound hard. But it is doubtful whether a modern\nlegislature can make laws effective if those laws are not the formal\nexpression of what the persons actually affected can and wish to do.\n\nThe amount of law is relatively small which a modern legislature can\nsuccessfully impose. The reason for this is that unless the enforcement\nof the law is taken in hand by the citizenry, the officials as such\nare quite helpless. It is possible to enforce the law of contracts,\nbecause the injured party will sue; it is possible to enforce the law\nagainst burglary, because almost everybody will report a burglary to\nthe police. But it is not possible to enforce the old-fashioned speed\nlaws on the highways because the police are too few and far between,\nthe pedestrians are uninterested, and motorists like to speed. There is\nhere a very fundamental principle of modern lawmaking: insofar as a law\ndepends upon the initiative of officials in detecting violations and in\nprosecuting, that law will almost certainly be difficult to enforce. If\na considerable part of the population is hostile to the law, and if the\n[p277] majority has only a platonic belief in it, the law will surely\nbreak down. For what gives law reality is not that it is commanded by\nthe sovereign but that it brings the organized force of the state to\nthe aid of those citizens who believe in the law.\n\nWhat the government really does is not to rule men, but to add\noverwhelming force to men when they rule their affairs. The passage\nof a law is in effect a promise that the police, the courts, and the\nofficials will defend and enforce certain rights when citizens choose\nto exercise them. For all practical purposes this is just as true when\nwhat was once a private wrong to be redressed by private action in law\ncourts on proof of specific injury has been made by statute a public\nwrong which is preventable and punishable by administrative action.\nWhen the citizens are no longer interested in preventing or punishing\nspecific instances of what the statute declares is a public wrong, the\nstatute becomes a dead letter. The principle is most obviously true in\nthe case of a sumptuary law like prohibition. The reason prohibition\nis unenforceable in the great cities is that the citizens will not\nreport the names and addresses of their bootleggers to the prohibition\nofficials. But the principle is no less true in less obvious cases,\nas, for example, in tariffs or laws to regulate railroads. Thus it is\ndifficult to enforce the tariff law on jewels, for they are easily\nsmuggled. Insofar as the law is enforced it is because jewelers find\nit profitable to maintain an organization which detects smuggling.\nBecause they know the ins and outs of the trade, and have men in all\nthe jewelry markets of the world who have an interest in catching\nsmugglers, it is possible for the United [p278] States Government to\nmake a fair showing in administering the law. The government cannot\nfrom hour to hour inspect all the transactions of its people, and\nany law which rests on the premise that government can do this is\na foolish law. The railroad laws are enforced because shippers are\nvigilant. The criminal laws depend upon how earnestly citizens object\nto certain kinds of crime. In fact it may be said that laws which make\ncertain kinds of conduct illicit are effective insofar as the breach\nof these laws arouses the citizenry to call in the police and to take\nthe trouble to help the police. It is not enough that the mass of the\npopulation should be law-abiding. A minority can stultify the law if\nthe population as a whole is not also law-enforcing.\n\nThis is the real sense in which it can be said that power in the modern\nstate resides not in the government but in the people. As that phrase\nis usually employed it alleges that \u2018the people,\u2019 as articulated by\nelected officials, can govern by command as the monarch or tribal\nchieftain once governed. In this sense government by the people is a\ndelusion. What we have among advanced communities is something that\nmight perhaps be described as government in the people. The naively\ndemocratic theory was that out of the mass of the voters there arose a\ncloud of wills which ascended to heaven, condensed into a thunderbolt,\nand then smote the people. It was supposed that the opinion of masses\nof persons somehow became the opinion of a corporate person called The\nPeople, and that this corporate person then directed human affairs like\na monarch. But that is not what happens. Government is in the people\nand stays there. Government is [p279] their multitudinous decisions in\nconcrete situations, and what officials do is to assist and facilitate\nthis process of governing. Effective laws may be said to register an\nunderstanding among those concerned by which the law-abiding know\nwhat to expect and what is expected of them; they are insured with\nall the force that the state commands against the disruption of this\nunderstanding by the recalcitrant minority. In the modern state a law\nwhich does not register the inward assent of most of those who are\naffected will have very little force as against the breakers of that\nlaw. For it is only by that inward assent that power becomes mobilized\nto enforce the law. The government in the person of its officials, its\npaltry inspectors and policemen, has relatively little power of its\nown. It derives its power from the people in amounts which vary with\nthe circumstances of each law. That is why the same government may act\nwith invincible majesty in one place and with ludicrous futility in\nanother.\n\n\n6. _Politicians and Statesmen_\n\nThe role of the leader would be easier to define if it were agreed\nto give separate meanings to two very common words. I mean the words\n\u201cpolitician\u201d and \u201cstatesman.\u201d In popular usage a vague distinction\nis recognized: to call a man a statesman is eulogy, to call him a\npolitician is to be, however faintly, disparaging. The dictionary, in\nfact, defines a politician as one who seeks to subserve the interests\nof a political party _merely_; as an afterthought it defines him as\none skilled in political science: a statesman. And in defining a\nstatesman the [p280] dictionary says that he is a political leader of\ndistinguished ability.\n\nThese definitions can, I think, be improved upon by clarifying the\nmeanings which are vaguely intended in popular usage. When we think\noffhand of a politician we think of a man who works for a partial\ninterest. At the worst it is his own pocket. At the best it may be\nhis party, his class, or an institution with which he is identified.\nWe never feel that he can or will take into account all the interests\nconcerned, and because bias and partisanship are the qualities of\nhis conduct, we feel, unless we are naively afflicted with the same\nbias, that he is not to be trusted too far. Now the word \u2018statesman,\u2019\nwhen it is not mere pomposity, connotes a man whose mind is elevated\nsufficiently above the conflict of contending parties to enable him to\nadopt a course of action which takes into account a greater number of\ninterests in the perspective of a longer period of time. It is some\nsuch conception as this that Edmund Burke had in mind when he wrote\nthat the state \u201cought not to be considered as nothing better than a\npartnership in a trade of pepper and coffee, calico or tobacco, or\nsome other such low concern, to be taken up for a little temporary\ninterest and to be dissolved by the fancy of the parties.... It is a\npartnership in a higher and more permanent sense\u2014a partnership in all\nscience; a partnership in all art; a partnership in every virtue and in\nall perfection. As the ends of such a partnership cannot be obtained\nin many generations it becomes a partnership not only between those\nwho are living, but between those who are dead and those who are to be\nborn.\u201d [p281]\n\nThe politician, then, is a man who seeks to attain the special objects\nof particular interests. If he is the leader of a political party he\nwill try either to purchase the support of particular interests by\nspecific pledges, or if that is impracticable, he will employ some\nform of deception. I include under the term \u2018deception\u2019 the whole art\nof propaganda, whether it consists of half-truths, lies, ambiguities,\nevasions, calculated silence, red herrings, unresponsiveness, slogans,\ncatchwords, showmanship, bathos, hokum, and buncombe. They are, one and\nall, methods of preventing a disinterested inquiry into the situation.\nI do not say that any one can be elected to office without employing\ndeception, though I am inclined to think that there is a new school of\npolitical reporters in the land who with a kind of beautiful cruelty\nare making it rather embarrassing for politicians to employ their old\ntricks. A man may have to be a politician to be elected when there is\nadult suffrage, and it may be that statesmanship, in the sense in which\nI am using the term, cannot occupy the whole attention of any public\nman. It is true at least that it never does.\n\nThe reason for this is that in order to hold office a man must array in\nhis support a varied assortment of persons with all sorts of confused\nand conflicting purposes. When then, it may be asked, does he begin to\nbe a statesman? He begins whenever he stops trying merely to satisfy or\nto obfuscate the momentary wishes of his constituents, and sets out to\nmake them realize and assent to those hidden interests of theirs which\nare permanent because they fit the facts and can be harmonized with the\ninterests of their neighbors. The politician says: \u201cI [p282] will give\nyou what you want.\u201d The statesman says: \u201cWhat you think you want is\nthis. What it is possible for you to get is that. What you really want,\ntherefore, is the following.\u201d The politician stirs up a following; the\nstatesman leads it. The politician, in brief, accepts unregenerate\ndesire at its face value and either fulfills it or perpetrates a fraud;\nthe statesman re-educates desire by confronting it with the reality,\nand so makes possible an enduring adjustment of interests within the\ncommunity.\n\nThe chief element in the art of statesmanship under modern conditions\nis the ability to elucidate the confused and clamorous interests which\nconverge upon the seat of government. It is an ability to penetrate\nfrom the naive self-interest of each group to its permanent and real\ninterest. It is a difficult art which requires great courage, deep\nsympathy, and a vast amount of information. That is why it is so rare.\nBut when a statesman is successful in converting his constituents from\na childlike pursuit of what seems interesting to a realistic view of\ntheir interests, he receives a kind of support which the ordinary glib\npolitician can never hope for. Candor is a bitter pill when first it is\ntasted but it is full of health, and once a man becomes established in\nthe public mind as a person who deals habitually and successfully with\nreal things, he acquires an eminence of a wholly different quality from\nthat of even the most celebrated caterer to the popular favor. His hold\non the people is enduring because he promises nothing which he cannot\nachieve; he proposes nothing which turns out to be a fake. Sooner or\nlater the politician, because he deals in unrealities, is found out.\nThen he either goes to jail, or he is tolerated [p283] cynically as a\npicturesque and amiable scoundrel; or he retires and ceases to meddle\nwith the destinies of men. The words of a statesman prove to have value\nbecause they express not the desires of the moment but the conditions\nunder which desires can actually be adjusted to reality. His projects\nare policies which lay down an ordered plan of action in which all the\nelements affected will, after they have had some experience of it,\nfind it profitable to co-operate. His laws register what the people\nreally desire when they have clarified their wants. His laws have force\nbecause they mobilize the energies which alone can make laws effective.\n\nIt is not necessary, nor is it probable, that a statesmanlike policy\nwill win such assent when it is first proposed. Nor is it necessary\nfor the statesman to wait until he has won complete assent. There are\nmany things which people cannot understand until they have lived with\nthem for a while. Often, therefore, the great statesman is bound to\nact boldly in advance of his constituents. When he does this he stakes\nhis judgment as to what the people will in the end find to be good\nagainst what the people happen ardently to desire. This capacity to\nact upon the hidden realities of a situation in spite of appearances\nis the essence of statesmanship. It consists in giving the people\nnot what they want but what they will learn to want. It requires the\ncourage which is possible only in a mind that is detached from the\nagitations of the moment. It requires the insight which comes only from\nan objective and discerning knowledge of the facts, and a high and\nimperturbable disinterestedness.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV [p284]\n\nLOVE IN THE GREAT SOCIETY\n\n\n1. _The External Control of Sexual Conduct_\n\nWhile the changes which modernity implies affect the premises of\nall human conduct, the problem as a whole engages the attention of\nrelatively few persons. The larger number of men and women living\nwithin the orbit of the Great Society are no doubt aware that their\ninherited beliefs about religion, politics, business, and sex do not\nsquare entirely with the actual beliefs upon which they feel compelled\nto act. But the fundamental alterations in political and economic\nideals which the machine technology is inducing come home to each man\nonly indirectly and partially. The consequences are subtle, delayed,\nand what is even more important, they are outside the scope of the\nordinary man\u2019s personal decision. There is little that is urgent,\nimmediate, or decisive which he can do, even if he understands them,\nabout the changes in the structure and purpose of industry and the\nstate. Most men can manage, therefore, to live without ever attempting\nto decide for themselves any fundamental question about business or\npolitics. But they can neither ignore changes in sexual relations nor\ndo they wish to. It is possible for a man to be a socialist or an\nindividualist without ever having to make one responsible decision\nin which his theories play any part. But what he thinks [p285]\nabout divorce and contraception, continence and license, monogamy,\nprostitution, and sexual experience outside of marriage, are matters\nthat are bound at some point in his life to affect his own happiness\nimmediately and directly. It is possible to be hypocritical about\nsex. But it is not possible for any adult who is not an\u00e6sthetic to be\nindifferent. The affairs of state may be regulated by leaders. But the\naffairs of a man and a woman are inescapably their own.\n\nThat obviously is the reason why in the popular mind it is immediately\nassumed that when morals are discussed it is sexual morals that are\nmeant. The morals of the politician and the voter, of the shareholder\nand executive and employee, are only moderately interesting to the\ngeneral public: thus they almost never supply the main theme of popular\nfiction. But the relation between boy and girl, man and woman, husband\nand wife, mistress and lover, parents and children, are themes which\nno amount of repetition makes stale. The explanation is obvious. The\nmodern audience is composed of persons among whom only a comparatively\nnegligible few are serenely happy in their personal lives. Popular\nfiction responds to their longings: to the unappeased it offers some\nmeasure of vicarious satisfaction, to the prurient an indulgence, to\nthe worried, if not a way out, then at least the comfort of knowing\nthat their secret despair is a common, and not a unique, experience.\n\nYet in spite of this immense preoccupation with sex it is\nextraordinarily difficult to arrive at any reliable knowledge of what\nactual change in human behavior it reflects. This is not surprising.\nIn fact this is the very [p286] essence of the matter. The reason it\nis difficult to know the actual facts about sexual behavior in modern\nsociety is that sexual behavior eludes observation and control. We know\nthat the old conventions have lost most of their authority because we\ncannot know about, and therefore can no longer regulate, the sexual\nbehavior of others. It may be that there is, as some optimists believe,\na fine but candid restraint practiced among modern men and women. It\nmay be that incredible licentiousness exists all about us, as the\ngloomier prophets insist. It may be that there is just about as much\nunconventional conduct and no more than there has always been. Nobody,\nI think, really knows. Nobody knows whether the conversation about\nsex reflects more promiscuity or less hypocrisy. But what everybody\nmust know is that sexual conduct, whatever it may be, is regulated\npersonally and not publicly in modern society. If there is restraint it\nis, in the last analysis, voluntary; if there is promiscuity, it can be\nquite secret.\n\nThe circumstances which have wrought this change are inherent in modern\nways of living. Until quite recently the main conventions of sex were\nenforced first by the parents and then by the husband through their\ncontrol over the life of the woman. The main conventions were: first,\nthat she must not encourage or display any amorous inclinations except\nwhere there was practical certainty that the young man\u2019s intentions\nwere serious; second, that when she was married to the young man\nshe submitted to his embraces only because the Lord somehow failed\nto contrive a less vile method of perpetuating the species. All the\nminor conventions were [p287] subsidiary to these; the whole system\nwas organized on the premise that procreation was the woman\u2019s only\nsanction for sexual intercourse. Such control as was exercised over\nthe conduct of men was subordinate to this control over the conduct of\nwomen. The chastity of women before marriage was guarded; that meant\nthat seduction was a crime, but that relations with \u201clost\u201d or unchaste\nwomen were tolerated. The virtuous man, by popular standards, was one\nwho before his marriage did not have sexual relations with a virtuous\nwoman. There is ample testimony in the outcries of moralists that even\nin the olden days these conventions were not perfectly administered.\nBut they were sufficiently well administered to remain the accepted\nconventions, honored even in the breach. It was possible, because of\nthe way people lived, to administer them.\n\nThe woman lived a sheltered life. That is another way of saying\nthat she lived under the constant inspection of her family. She\nlived at home. She worked at home. She met young men under the\nzealous chaperonage of practically the whole community. No doubt,\ncouples slipped away occasionally and more went on than was known or\nacknowledged. But even then there was a very powerful deterrent against\nan illicit relationship. This deterrent was the fear of pregnancy.\nThat in the end made it almost certain that if a secret affair were\nconsummated it could not be kept secret and that terrible penalties\nwould be exacted. In the modern world effective chaperonage has become\nimpracticable and the fear of pregnancy has been virtually eliminated\nby the very general knowledge of contraceptive methods. [p288]\n\nThe whole revolution in the field of sexual morals turns upon the fact\nthat external control of the chastity of women is becoming impossible.\n\n\n2. _Birth Control_\n\nThe Biblical account of how Jehovah slew Onan for disobeying his\nfather\u2019s commandment to go to his brother\u2019s widow, Tamar, and \u201cperform\nthe duty of an husband\u2019s brother,\u201d shows that the deliberate prevention\nof conception is not a new discovery. Mr. Harold Cox must be right when\nhe says \u201cit is fairly certain that in all ages and in all countries\nmen and women have practiced various devices to prevent conception\nwhile continuing to indulge in sexual intercourse.\u201d For while I know\nof no positive evidence to support this, it appears to be self-evident\nthat the human race within historical times has not multiplied up to\nthe limits of human fecundity. Since it is hardly probable that this\nhas been due to the continence of husbands, nor wholly to infanticide,\nabortion, infant mortality, and postponement of marriage, it is safe to\nconclude that birth control is an ancient practice.\n\nNevertheless, it was not until the Nineteenth Century that the\npractice of contraception began to be publicly advocated on grounds\nof public policy. Until the industrial age the weight of opinion was\noverwhelmingly in favor of very large families. Kings and nobles needed\nsoldiers and retainers: \u201cAs arrows in the hand of a mighty man, so are\nthe children of youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of\nthem. They shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies\nin the [p289] gate.\u201d Fathers of families desired many sons. The early\nfactory owners could use abundant cheap labor. There had been men from\nPlato\u2019s time who had their doubts about the value of an indefinitely\ngrowing population. But the substantial opinion down to the end of\nthe Eighteenth Century was Adam Smith\u2019s that: \u201cthe most decisive mark\nof the prosperity of any country is the increase of the number of its\ninhabitants.\u201d\n\nApparently it was the sinister character of the early factory system,\nand the ominous unrest which pervaded Europe after the French\nRevolution, which rather suddenly changed into pessimism this bland\noptimism about an ever growing population. Malthus published the first\nedition of his _Essay on Population_ in 1798. This book is undoubtedly\none of the great landmarks of human culture, for it focussed the\nattention of Europe on the necessity of regulating the growth of\npopulation. Malthus himself, it seems, hoped that this regulation\ncould be achieved by the postponement of marriage and by continence.\nIt is not clear whether he disapproved of what is now called\nneo-Malthusianism, or whether he did not regard it as practicable.\nNevertheless, within less than twenty-five years James Mill in the\n_Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica_ had in guarded fashion put forward the\nneo-Malthusian principle, and shortly thereafter, that is in 1823, an\nactive public propaganda was set on foot, most probably by Francis\nPlace, by means of what were known as the \u201cdiabolical handbills.\u201d\nThese leaflets were addressed to the working classes and contained\ndescriptions of methods for preventing conception. Some of them were\nsent to a good lady named Mrs. Fildes, who [p290] indignantly, but\nmistakenly from her point of view, assisted the nefarious propaganda\nby exposing it in the public prints. Fifty years later Mr. Bradlaugh\nand Mrs. Besant had themselves indicted and tried for selling an\nillustrated edition of Knowlton\u2019s _Fruits of Philosophy_. After that\nadvertisement, neo-Malthusian principles and practices were known and\nwere, therefore, available to all but the poorest and most illiterate.\n\nNo propaganda so threatening to the established moral order ever\nencountered such an ineffective opposition. I do not know how much\nmoney has been spent on the propaganda nor how many martyrs have had\nto coerce reluctant judges to try them. But it is evident that once it\nwas known that fairly dependable methods of contraception exist, the\npeople took the matter into their own hands. For the public reasons by\nwhich neo-Malthusianism was justified were also private reasons. The\nsocial philosopher said that population must be adjusted to the means\nof subsistence. Man and wife said that they must have only as many\nchildren as they could afford to rear. The eugenist said that certain\nstocks ought not to multiply. Individual women decided that too many\nchildren, or even any children, were bad for their health. But these\nwere not the only reasons which explain the demand for neo-Malthusian\nknowledge. There was also the very plain demand due to a desire to\nenjoy sexual intercourse without social consequences.\n\nOn this aspect of birth control the liberal reformers have, I think,\nbeen until recently more than a little disingenuous. They have been\narguing for the removal of the prohibitory laws, and they have built\ntheir case on two [p291] main theses. They have argued, first, that\nthe limitation of births was sound public policy for economic and\neugenic reasons; and second, that it was necessary to the happiness\nof families, the health of mothers, and the welfare of children. All\nthese reasons may be unimpeachable. I think they are. But it was idle\nto pretend that the dissemination of this knowledge, even if legally\nconfined to the instruction of married women by licensed physicians,\ncould be kept from the rest of the adult population. Obviously that\nwhich all married couples are permitted to know every one is bound\nto know. Human curiosity will make that certain. Now this is what\nthe Christian churches, especially the Roman Catholic, which oppose\ncontraception on principle, instantly recognized. They were quite\nright. They were quite right, too, in recognizing that whether or\nnot birth control is eugenic, hygienic, and economic, it is the most\nrevolutionary practice in the history of sexual morals.\n\nFor when conception could be prevented, there was an end to the theory\nthat woman submits to the embrace of the male only for purposes of\nprocreation. She had to be persuaded to co-operate, and no possible\nreason could be advanced except that the pleasure was reciprocal.\nShe had to understand and inwardly assent to the principle that it\nis proper to have sexual intercourse with her husband and to prevent\nconception. She had, therefore, to give up the whole traditional theory\nwhich she may have only half-believed anyway, that sexual intercourse\nwas an impure means to a noble end. She could no longer believe that\nprocreation alone mitigated the vileness of cohabiting with a man, and\nso she had to change her valuation [p292] and accept it as inherently\ndelightful. Thus by an inevitable process the practice of contraception\nled husbands and wives to the conviction that they need not be in the\nleast ashamed of their desires for each other.\n\nBut this transvaluation of values within the sanctity of the marital\nchamber could hardly be kept a secret. What had happened was that\nmarried couples were indulging in the pleasures of sex because\nthey had learned how to isolate them from the responsibilities of\nparenthood. When we talk about the unconventional theories of the\nyounger generation we might in all honesty take this fact into account.\nThey have had it demonstrated to them by their own parents, by those\nin whom the administering of the conventions is vested, that under\ncertain circumstances it is legitimate and proper to gratify sexual\ndesire apart from any obligation to the family or to the race. They\nhave been taught that it is possible to do this, and that it may be\nproper. Therefore, the older generation could no longer argue that\nsexual intercourse as such was evil. It could no longer argue that it\nwas obviously dangerous. It could only maintain that the psychological\nconsequences are serious if sexual gratification is not made incidental\nto the enduring partnership of marriage and a home. That may be, in\nfact, I think it can be shown to be, the real wisdom of the matter.\nYet if it is the wisdom of the matter, it is a kind of wisdom which\nmen and women can acquire by experience alone. They do not have it\ninstinctively. They cannot be compelled to adopt it. They can only\nlearn to believe it.\n\nThat is a very different thing from submitting to a convention upheld\nby all human and divine authority. [p293]\n\n\n3. _The Logic of Birth Control_\n\nWith contraception established as a more or less legitimate idea in\nmodern society, a vast discussion has ensued as to how the practice\nof it can be rationalized. In this discussion the pace is set by\nthose who accept the apparent logic of contraception and are prepared\nboldly to revise the sexual conventions accordingly. They take as\ntheir major premise the obvious fact that by contraception it is\npossible to dissociate procreation from gratification, and therefore\nto pursue independently what Mr. Havelock Ellis calls the primary and\nsecondary objects of the sexual impulse. They propose, therefore, to\nsanction two distinct sets of conventions: one designed to protect\nthe interests of the offspring by promoting intelligent, secure, and\ncheerful parenthood; the other designed to permit the freest and\nfullest expression of the erotic personality. They propose, in other\nwords, to distinguish between parenthood as a vocation involving public\nresponsibility, and love as an art, pursued privately for the sake of\nhappiness.\n\nAs a preparation for the vocation of parenthood it is proposed\nto educate both men and women in the care, both physical and\npsychological, of children. It is proposed further that mating for\nparenthood shall become an altogether deliberate and voluntary\nchoice: the argument here is that the duties of parenthood cannot\nbe successfully fulfilled except where both parents cheerfully and\nknowingly assume them. Therefore, it is proposed, in order to avert the\ndangers of love at first sight and of mating under the blind compulsion\nof instinct, that a period of free experimentation [p294] be allowed\nto precede the solemn engagement to produce and rear children. This\nengagement is regarded as so much a public responsibility that it is\neven proposed, and to some extent has been embodied in the law of\ncertain jurisdictions, that marriages for parenthood must be sanctioned\nby medical authority. In order, too, that no compulsive considerations\nmay determine what ought to be a free and intelligent choice, it is\nargued that women should be economically independent before and during\nmarriage. As this may not be possible for women without property\nof their own during the years when they are bearing and rearing\nchildren, it is proposed in some form or other to endow motherhood.\nThis endowment may take the form of a legal claim upon the earnings of\nthe father, or it may mean a subsidy from the state through mothers\u2019\npensions, free medical attention, day nurseries, and kindergartens. The\nprinciple that successful parenthood must be voluntary is maintained\nas consistently as possible. Therefore, among those who follow the\nlogic of their idea, it is proposed that even marriages deliberately\nentered into for procreation shall be dissoluble at the will of either\nparty, the state intervening only to insure the economic security of\nthe offspring. It is proposed, furthermore, that where women find the\nvocation of motherhood impracticable for one reason or another, they\nmay be relieved of the duty of rearing their children.\n\nNot all of the advanced reformers adopt the whole of this program, but\nthe whole of this program is logically inherent in the conception of\nparenthood as a vocation deliberately undertaken, publicly pursued, and\nmotivated solely by the parental instincts. [p295]\n\nThe separate set of conventions which it is proposed to adopt for the\ndevelopment of love as an art have a logic of their own. Their function\nis not to protect the welfare of the child but the happiness of lovers.\nIt is very easy to misunderstand this conception. Mr. Havelock Ellis,\nin fact, describes it as a \u201cdivine and elusive mystery,\u201d a description\nwhich threatens to provide a rather elusive standard by which to fix a\nnew set of sexual conventions. But baffling as this sounds, it is not\nwholly inscrutable, and a sufficient understanding of what is meant can\nbe attained by clearing up the dangerous ambiguity in the phrase \u201clove\nas an art.\u201d\n\nThere are two arts of love and it makes a considerable difference\nwhich one is meant. There is the art of love as Casanova, for example,\npracticed it. It is the art of seduction, courtship, and sexual\ngratification: it is an art which culminates in the sexual act. It\ncan be repeated with the same lover and with other lovers, but it\nexhausts itself in the moment of ecstasy. When that moment is reached,\nthe work of art is done, and the lover as artist \u201cafter an interval,\nperhaps of stupor and vital recuperation\u201d must start all over again,\nuntil at last the rhythm is so stale it is a weariness to start at\nall; or the lover must find new lovers and new resistances to conquer.\nThe aftermath of romantic love\u2014that is, of love that is consummated\nin sexual ecstasy\u2014is either tedium in middle age or the compulsive\nadventurousness of the libertine.\n\nNow this is not what Mr. Ellis means when he talks about love as an\nart. \u201cThe act of intercourse,\u201d he says, \u201cis only an incident, and not\nan essential in love.\u201d Incident to what? His answer is that it is an\nincident to an [p296] \u201cexquisitely and variously and harmoniously\nblended\u201d activity of \u201call the finer activities of the organism,\nphysical and psychic.\u201d I take this to mean that when a man and woman\nare successfully in love, their whole activity is energized and\nvictorious. They walk better, their digestion improves, they think\nmore clearly, their secret worries drop away, the world is fresh and\ninteresting, and they can do more than they dreamed that they could\ndo. In love of this kind sexual intimacy is not the dead end of desire\nas it is in romantic or promiscuous love, but periodic affirmation of\nthe inward delight of desire pervading an active life. Love of this\nsort can grow: it is not, like youth itself, a moment that comes and is\ngone and remains only a memory of something which cannot be recovered.\nIt can grow because it has something to grow upon and to grow with;\nit is not contracted and stale because it has for its object, not the\nmere relief of physical tension, but all the objects with which the\ntwo lovers are concerned. They desire their worlds in each other, and\ntherefore their love is as interesting as their worlds and their worlds\nare as interesting as their love.\n\nIt is to promote unions of this sort that the older liberals are\nproposing a new set of sexual conventions. There are, however,\nreformers in the field who take a much less exalted view of the sexual\nact, who regard it, indeed, not only as without biological or social\nsignificance, but also as without any very impressive psychological\nsignificance. \u201cThe practice of birth control,\u201d says Mr. C. E. M. Joad,\nfor example, \u201cwill profoundly modify our sexual habits. It will enable\nthe pleasures of sex to be tasted without its penalties, and it will\nremove the most [p297] formidable deterrent to irregular intercourse.\u201d\nFor birth control \u201coffers to the young ... the prospect of shameless,\nharmless, and unlimited pleasure.\u201d But whether the reformers agree with\nMr. Ellis that sexual intimacy is, as he says, a sacrament signifying\nsome great spiritual reality, or with Mr. Joad that it is a harmless\npleasure, they are agreed that the sexual conventions should be revised\nto permit such unions without penalties and without any sense of shame.\n\nThey ask public opinion to sanction what contraception has made\nfeasible. They point out that \u201ca large number of the men and women\nof to-day form sexual relationships outside marriage\u2014whether or\nnot they ultimately lead to marriage\u2014which they conceal or seek to\nconceal from the world.\u201d These relationships, says Mr. Ellis, differ\nfrom the extra-marital manifestations of the sexual life of the past\nin that they do not derive from prostitution or seduction. Both of\nthese ancient practices, he adds, are diminishing, for prostitution is\nbecoming less attractive and, with the education of women, seduction\nis becoming less possible. The novelty of these new relations, the\nprevalence of which is conceded though it cannot be measured, lies in\nthe fact that they are entered into voluntarily, have no obvious social\nconsequences, and are altogether beyond the power of law or opinion to\ncontrol. The argument, therefore, is that they should be approved, the\nchief point made being that by removing all stigma from such unions,\nthey will become candid, wholesome, and delightful. The objection of\nthe reformers to the existing conventions is that the sense of sin\npoisons the spontaneous goodness of such relationships. [p298]\n\nThe actual proposals go by a great variety of fancy names such as free\nlove, trial marriage, companionate marriage. When these proposals are\nexamined it is evident they all take birth control as their major\npremise, and then deduce from it some part or all of the logical\nconsequences. Companionate marriage, for example, is from the point\nof view of the law, whatever it may be subjectively, nothing but\na somewhat roundabout way of saying that childless couples may be\ndivorced by mutual consent. It is a proposal, if not to control, then\nat least to register, publicly all sexual unions, the theory being that\nthis public registration will abolish shame and furtiveness and give\nthem a certain permanence. Companionate marriage is frankly an attempt\nat a compromise between marriages that are difficult to dissolve and\nclandestine relationships which have no sanction whatever.\n\nThe uncompromising logic of birth control has been stated more clearly,\nI think, by Mr. Bertrand Russell than by anyone else. Writing to Judge\nLindsey during the uproar about companionate marriage, Mr. Russell said:\n\n I go further than you do: the things which your enemies say about\n you would be largely true of me. My own view is that the state\n and the law should take no notice of sexual relations apart from\n children, and that no marriage ceremony should be valid unless\n accompanied by a medical certificate of the woman\u2019s pregnancy.\n But when once there are children, I think that divorce should be\n avoided except for very grave cause. I should not regard physical\n infidelity as a very grave cause and should teach people that\n it is to be expected and tolerated, but should not involve the\n begetting of illegitimate children\u2014not because illegitimacy is\n bad in [p299] itself, but because a home with two parents is\n best for children. I do not feel that the main thing in marriage\n is the feeling of the parents for each other; the main thing is\n cooperation in bearing children.\n\nIn this admirably clear statement there is set forth a plan for that\ncomplete separation between the primary and secondary function of\nsexual intercourse which contraception makes possible.\n\n\n4. _The Use of Convention_\n\nIt is one thing, however, to recognize the full logic of birth control\nand quite another thing to say that convention ought to be determined\nby that logic. One might as well argue that because automobiles can be\ndriven at a hundred miles an hour the laws should sanction driving at\nthe rate of a hundred miles an hour. Birth control is a device like the\nautomobile, and its inherent possibilities do not fix the best uses to\nbe made of it.\n\nWhat an understanding of the logic of birth control does is to set\nbefore us the limits of coercive control of sexual relations. The law\ncan, for example, make divorce very difficult where there are children.\nIt could, as Mr. Bertrand Russell suggests, refuse divorce on the\nground of infidelity. On the other hand the law cannot effectively\nprohibit infidelity, and as a matter of fact does not do so to-day.\nIt cannot effectively prohibit fornication though there are statutes\nagainst it. Therefore, what Mr. Russell has done is to describe\naccurately enough the actual limits of effective legal control.\n\nBut sexual conventions are not statutes, and it is important to define\nquite clearly just what they are. In the [p300] older world they were\nrules of conduct enforceable by the family and the community through\nhabit, coercion, and authority. In this sense of the word, convention\ntends to lose force and effect in modern civilization. Yet a convention\nis essentially a theory of conduct and all human conduct implies some\ntheory of conduct. Therefore, although it may be that no convention\nis any longer coercive, conventions remain, are adopted, revised, and\ndebated. They embody the considered results of experience: perhaps the\nexperience of a lonely pioneer or perhaps the collective experience of\nthe dominant members of a community. In any event they are as necessary\nto a society which recognizes no authority as to one which does. For\nthe inexperienced must be offered some kind of hypothesis when they\nare confronted with the necessity of making choices: they cannot be so\nutterly open-minded that they stand inert until something collides with\nthem. In the modern world, therefore, the function of conventions is to\ndeclare the meaning of experience. A good convention is one which will\nmost probably show the inexperienced the way to happy experience.\n\nJust because the rule of sexual conduct by authority is dissolving,\nthe need of conventions which will guide conduct is increasing.\nThat, in fact, is the reason for the immense and urgent discussion\nof sex throughout the modern world. It is an attempt to attain an\nunderstanding of the bewilderingly new experiences to which few men or\nwomen know how to adjust themselves. The true business of the moralist\nin the midst of all this is not to denounce this and to advocate that,\nbut to see as clearly as he can into the meaning of it, so that out\nof the chaos of [p301] pain and happiness and worry he may help to\ndeliver a usable insight.\n\nIt is, I think, to the separation of parenthood as a vocation from love\nas an end in itself that the moralist must address himself. For this is\nthe heart of the problem: to determine whether this separation, which\nbirth control has made feasible and which law can no longer prevent, is\nin harmony with the conditions of human happiness.\n\n\n5. _The New Hedonism_\n\nAmong those who hold that the separation of the primary and secondary\nfunctions of the sexual impulse is good and should constitute the major\npremise of modern sexual conventions, there are, as I have already\npointed out, two schools of thought. There are the transcendentalists\nwho believe with Mr. Havelock Ellis that \u201csexual pleasure, wisely used\nand not abused, may prove the stimulus and liberator of our finest and\nmost exalted activities,\u201d and there are the unpretentious hedonists\nwho believe that sexual pleasure is pleasure and not the stimulus or\nliberator of anything important. Both are, as we say, emancipated:\nneither recognizes the legitimacy of objective control unless a child\nis born, and both reject as an evil the traditional subjective control\nexercised by the sense of sin. Where they differ is in their valuation\nof love.\n\nHedonism as an attitude toward life is, of course, not a new thing in\nthe world, but it has never before been tested out under such favorable\nconditions. To be a successful hedonist a man must have the opportunity\nto seek his pleasures without fear of any kind. Theodorus of Cyrene,\n[p302] who taught about 310 B.C., saw that clearly, and therefore\nto release men from fear openly denied the Olympian gods. But the\nnewest hedonism has had an even better prospect than the classical:\nit finds men emancipated not only of all fear of divine authority\nand human custom but of physical and social consequences as well. If\nthe pursuit of pleasure by carefree men were the way to happiness,\nhedonism ought, then, to be proving itself triumphantly in the modern\nworld. Possibly it is too early to judge, but the fact is nevertheless\nhighly significant, I think, that the new hedonists should already have\narrived at the same conclusion as the later hedonists in the classical\nworld. Hegesias, for example, wrote when hedonism had already had a\ngreat vogue: he was called, rather significantly, the \u201cpersuader to\ndie.\u201d For having started from the premise that pleasure is the end of\nlife, he concluded that, since life affords at least as much pain as\npleasure, the end of life cannot be realized. There is now a generation\nin the world which is approaching middle age. They have exercised the\nprivileges which were won by the iconoclasts who attacked what was\nusually called the Puritan or Victorian tradition. They have exercised\nthe privileges without external restraint and without inhibition. Their\nconclusions are reported in the latest works of fiction. Do they report\nthat they have found happiness in their freedom? Well, hardly. Instead\nof the gladness which they were promised, they seem, like Hegesias, to\nhave found the wasteland.\n\n\u201cIf love has come to be less often a sin,\u201d says that very discerning\ncritic of life and letters, Mr. Joseph Wood Krutch, \u201cit has come also\nto be less often a supreme privilege. [p303] If one turns to the\nsmarter of those novelists who describe the doings of the more advanced\nset of those who are experimenting with life\u2014to, for example, Mr.\nAldous Huxley or Mr. Ernest Hemingway,\u2014one will discover in their\ntragic farces the picture of a society which is at bottom in despair\nbecause, though it is more completely absorbed in the pursuit of love\nthan in anything else, it has lost the sense of any ultimate importance\ninherent in the experience which preoccupies it; and if one turns to\nthe graver of the intellectual writers,\u2014to, for example, Mr. D. H.\nLawrence, Mr. T. S. Eliot, or Mr. James Joyce,\u2014one will find both\nexplicitly and implicitly a similar sense that the transcendental value\nof love has become somehow attenuated, and that, to take a perfectly\nconcrete example, a conclusion which does no more than bring a man and\nwoman into complete possession of one another is a mere bathos which\ndoes nothing except legitimately provoke the comment, \u2018Well, what of\nit?\u2019 One can hardly imagine them concerned with what used to be called,\nin a phrase which they have helped to make faintly ridiculous, \u2018the\nright to love.\u2019 Individual freedom they have inherited and assumed\nas a right, but they are concerned with something which their more\nrestricted forefathers assumed\u2014with, that is to say, the value of love\nitself. No inhibitions either within or without restrain them, but they\nare asking themselves, \u2018What is it worth?\u2019 and they are certainly no\nlonger feeling that it is obviously and in itself something which makes\nlife worth the living.\n\n\u201cTo Huxley and Hemingway\u2014I take them as the most conspicuous exemplars\nof a whole school\u2014love is at times only a sort of obscene joke. The\nformer in particular has [p304] delighted to mock sentiment with\nphysiology, to place the emotions of the lover in comic juxtaposition\nwith quaint biological lore, and to picture a romantic pair \u2018quietly\nsweating palm to palm.\u2019 But the joke is one which turns quickly bitter\nupon the tongue, for a great and gratifying illusion has passed away,\nleaving the need for it still there. His characters still feel the\npsychological urge, and, since they have no sense of sin in connection\nwith it, they yield easily and continually to that urge; but they\nhave also the human need to respect their chief preoccupation, and\nit is the capacity to do this that they have lost. Absorbed in the\npursuit of sexual satisfaction, they never find love and they are\nscarcely aware that they are seeking it, but they are far from content\nwith themselves. In a generally devaluated world they are eagerly\nendeavoring to get what they can in the pursuit of satisfactions which\nare sufficiently instinctive to retain inevitably a modicum of animal\npleasure, but they cannot transmute that simple animal pleasure into\nanything else. They themselves not infrequently share the contempt with\nwhich their creator regards them, and nothing could be less seductive,\nbecause nothing could be less glamorous, than the description of the\ndebaucheries born of nothing except a sense of the emptiness of life.\u201d\n\nThis \u201cgenerally devaluated world,\u201d of which Mr. Krutch speaks, what\nis it after all, but a world in which nothing connects itself very\nmuch with anything else? If you start with the belief that love is\nthe pleasure of a moment, is it really surprising that it yields only\na momentary pleasure? For it is the most ironical of all illusions\nto suppose that one is free of illusions in contracting any [p305]\nhuman desire to its primary physiological satisfaction. Does a man\ndine well because he ingests the requisite number of calories? Is he\nfreer from illusions about his appetite than the man who creates an\ninteresting dinner party out of the underlying fact that his guests and\nhe have the need to fill their stomachs? Would it really be a mark of\nenlightenment if each of them filled his stomach in the solitary and\nsolemn conviction that good conversation and pleasant companionship are\none thing and nutrition is another?\n\nThis much the transcendentalists understand well enough. They do\nnot wish to isolate the satisfaction of desire from our \u201cfinest\nand most exalted activities.\u201d They would make it \u201cthe stimulus and\nthe liberator\u201d of these activities. They would use it to arouse to\n\u201cwholesome activity all the complex and interrelated systems of the\norganism.\u201d But what are these finest and most exalted activities which\nare to be stimulated and liberated? The discovery of truth, the making\nof works of art, meditation and insight? Mr. Ellis does not specify. If\nthese are the activities that are meant, then the discussion applies to\na very few of the men and women on earth. For the activities of most\nof them are necessarily concerned with earning a living and managing\na household and rearing children and finding recreation. If the art\nof love is to stimulate and liberate activities, it is these prosaic\nactivities which it must stimulate and liberate. But if you idealize\nthe logic of birth control, make parenthood a separate vocation,\nisolate love from work and the hard realities of living, and say that\nit must be spontaneous and carefree, what have you done? You have\nseparated [p306] it from all the important activities which it might\nstimulate and liberate. You have made love spontaneous but empty, and\nyou have made home-building and parenthood efficient, responsible, and\ndull.\n\nWhat has happened, I believe, is what so often happens in the first\nenthusiasm for a revolutionary invention. Its possibilities are so\ndazzling that men forget that inventions belong to man and not man to\nhis inventions. In the discussion which has ensued since birth control\nbecame generally feasible, the central confusion has been that the\nreformers have tried to fix their sexual ideals in accordance with the\nlogic of birth control instead of the logic of human nature. Birth\ncontrol does make feasible this dissociation of interests which were\nonce organically united. There are undoubtedly the best of reasons\nfor dissociating them up to a point. But how completely it is wise\nto dissociate them is a matter to be determined not by saying how\ncompletely it is possible to dissociate them, but how much it is\ndesirable to dissociate them.\n\nAll the varieties of the modern doctrine that man is a collection of\nseparate impulses, each of which can attain its private satisfaction,\nare in fundamental contradiction not only with the traditional body of\nhuman wisdom but with the modern conception of the human character.\nThus in one breath it is said in advanced circles that love is a series\nof casual episodes, and in the next it transpires that the speaker is\nin process of having himself elaborately psychoanalyzed in order to\ndisengage his soul from the effects of apparently trivial episodes\nin his childhood. On the one hand it is asserted that sex pervades\neverything and on the other that sexual behavior is inconsequential.\n[p307] It is taught that experience is cumulative, that we are what\nour past has made us and shall be what we are making of ourselves now,\nand then with bland indifference to the significance of this we are\ntold that all experiences are free, equal, and independent.\n\n\n6. _Marriage and Affinity_\n\nIt is not hard to see why those who are concerned in revising sexual\nconventions should have taken the logic of birth control rather than\nknowledge of human nature as their major premise. Birth control is an\nimmensely beneficent invention which can and does relieve men and women\nof some of the most tragic sorrows which afflict them: the tragedies of\nthe unwanted child, the tragedies of insupportable economic burdens,\nthe tragedies of excessive child bearing and the destruction of youth\nand the necessity of living in an unrelenting series of pregnancies. It\noffers them freedom from intolerable mismating, from sterile virtue,\nfrom withering denials of happiness. These are the facts which the\nreformers saw, and in birth control they saw the instrument by which\nsuch freedom could be obtained.\n\nThe sexual conventions which they have proposed are really designed to\ncure notorious evils. They do not define the good life in sex; they\npoint out ways of escape from the bad life. Thus companionate marriage\nis proposed by Judge Lindsey not as a type of union which is inherently\ndesirable, but as an avenue of escape from corrupt marriages on the\none hand and furtive promiscuity on the other. The movement for free\ndivorce comes down to this: it is necessary because so many marriages\n[p308] are a failure. The whole theory that love is separate from\nparenthood and home-building is supported by the evidence in those\ncases where married couples are not lovers. It is the pathology of\nsexual relations which inspires the reformers of sexual conventions.\n\nThere is no need to quarrel with them because they insist upon remedies\nfor manifest evils. Deep confusion results when they forget that these\nremedies are only remedies, and go on to institute them as ideals.\nIt is better, without any doubt, that incompatible couples should\nbe divorced and that each should then be free to find a mate who is\ncompatible. But the frequency with which men and women have to resort\nto divorce because they are incompatible will be greatly influenced by\nthe notions they have before and during marriage of what compatibility\nis, and what it involves. The remedies for failure are important. But\nwhat is central is the conception of sexual relations by which they\nexpect to live successfully.\n\nThey cannot\u2014I am, of course, speaking broadly\u2014expect to live\nsuccessfully by the conception that the primary and secondary functions\nof sex are in separate compartments of the soul. I have indicated\nwhy this conception is self-defeating and why, since human nature is\norganic and experience cumulative, our activities must, so to speak,\nengage and imply each other. Mates who are not lovers will not really\ncooperate, as Mr. Bertrand Russell thinks they should, in bearing\nchildren; they will be distracted, insufficient, and worst of all they\nwill be merely dutiful. Lovers who have nothing to do but love each\nother are not really to be envied; love and nothing else very soon is\nnothing else. The emotion of love, in spite [p309] of the romantics,\nis not self-sustaining; it endures only when the lovers love many\nthings together, and not merely each other. It is this understanding\nthat love cannot successfully be isolated from the business of living\nwhich is the enduring wisdom of the institution of marriage. Let the\nlaw be what it may be as to what constitutes a marriage contract and\nhow and when it may be dissolved. Let public opinion be as tolerant\nas it can be toward any and every kind of irregular and experimental\nrelationship. When all the criticisms have been made, when all\nsupernatural sanctions have been discarded, all subjective inhibitions\nerased, all compulsions abolished, the convention of marriage still\nremains to be considered as an interpretation of human experience. It\nis by the test of how genuinely it interprets human experience that the\nconvention of marriage will ultimately be judged.\n\nThe wisdom of marriage rests upon an extremely unsentimental view of\nlovers and their passions. Its assumptions, when they are frankly\nexposed, are horrifying to those who have been brought up in the\npopular romantic tradition of the Nineteenth Century. These assumptions\nare that, given an initial attraction, a common social background,\ncommon responsibilities, and the conviction that the relationship is\npermanent, compatibility in marriage can normally be achieved. It is\nprecisely this that the prevailing sentimentality about love denies.\nIt assumes that marriages are made in heaven, that compatibility is\ninstinctive, a mere coincidence, that happy unions are, in the last\nanalysis, lucky accidents in which two people who happen to suit\neach other happen to have met. The convention of marriage rests on\nan interpretation of [p310] human nature which does not confuse the\nsubjective feeling of the lovers that their passion is unique, with\nthe brutal but objective fact that, had they never met, each of them\nwould in all probability have found a lover who was just as unique.\n\u201cLove,\u201d says Mr. Santayana, \u201cis indeed much less exacting than it\nthinks itself. Nine-tenths of its cause are in the lover, for one-tenth\nthat may be in the object. Were the latter not accidentally at hand,\nan almost identical passion would probably have been felt for some one\nelse; for, although with acquaintance the quality of an attachment\nnaturally adapts itself to the person loved, and makes that person\nits standard and ideal, the first assault and mysterious glow of the\npassion is much the same for every object.\u201d\n\nThis is the reason why the popular conception of romantic love as the\nmeeting of two affinities produces so much unhappiness. The mysterious\nglow of passion is accepted as a sign that the great coincidence has\noccurred; there is a wedding and soon, as the glow of passion cools, it\nis discovered that no instinctive and preordained affinity is present.\nAt this point the wisdom of popular romantic marriage is exhausted. For\nit proceeds on the assumption that love is a mysterious visitation.\nThere is nothing left, then, but to grin and bear a miserably dull and\nnagging fate, or to break off and try again. The deep fallacy of the\nconception is in the failure to realize that compatibility is a process\nand not an accident, that it depends upon the maturing of instinctive\ndesire by adaptation to the whole nature of the other person and to the\ncommon concerns of the pair of lovers.\n\nThe romantic theory of affinities rests upon an immature [p311] theory\nof desire. It springs from an infantile belief that the success of\nlove is in the satisfactions which the other person provides. What\nthis really means is that in childlike fashion the lover expects\nhis mistress to supply him with happiness. But in the adult world\nthat expectation is false. Because nine-tenths of the cause, as Mr.\nSantayana says, are in the lover for one-tenth that may be in the\nobject, it is what the lover does about that nine-tenths which is\ndecisive for his happiness. It is the claim, therefore, of those\nwho uphold the ideal of marriage as a full partnership, and reject\nthe ideal which would separate love as an art from parenthood as a\nvocation, that in the home made by a couple who propose to see it\nthrough, there are provided the essential conditions under which\nthe passions of men and women are most likely to become mature, and\ntherefore harmonious and disinterested.\n\n\n7. _The Schooling of Desire_\n\nThey need not deny, indeed it would be foolish as well as cruel for\nthem to underestimate, the enormous difficulty of achieving successful\nmarriages under modern conditions. For with the dissolution of\nauthority and compulsion, a successful marriage depends wholly upon the\ncapacity of the man and the woman to make it successful. They have to\naccomplish wholly by understanding and sympathy and disinterestedness\nof purpose what was once in a very large measure achieved by habit,\nnecessity, and the absence of any practicable alternative. It takes\ntwo persons to make a successful marriage in the modern world, and\nthat fact more than doubles its difficulty. For these reasons alone\nthe modern state ought to do what it [p312] would none the less be\ncompelled to do: it ought to provide decent ways of retreat in case of\nfailure.\n\nBut if it is the truth that the convention of marriage correctly\ninterprets human experience, whereas the separatist conventions are\nself-defeating, then the convention of marriage will prove to be the\nconclusion which emerges out of all this immense experimenting. It\nwill survive not as a rule of law imposed by force, for that is now, I\nthink, become impossible. It will not survive as a moral commandment\nwith which the elderly can threaten the young. They will not listen.\nIt will survive as the dominant insight into the reality of love and\nhappiness, or it will not survive at all. That does not mean that all\npersons will live under the convention of marriage. As a matter of fact\nin civilized ages all persons never have. It means that the convention\nof marriage, when it is clarified by insight into reality, is likely\nto be the hypothesis upon which men and women will ordinarily proceed.\nThere will be no compulsion behind it except the compulsion in each man\nand woman to reach a true adjustment of his life.\n\nIt is in this necessity of clarifying their love for those who are\nclosest to them that the moral problems of the new age come to a\npersonal issue. It is in the realm of sexual relations that mankind is\nbeing schooled amidst pain and worry for the novel conditions which\nmodernity imposes. It is there, rather than in politics, business, or\neven in religion, that the issues are urgent, vivid, and inescapable.\nIt is there that they touch most poignantly and most radically the\norganic roots of human personality. And it is there, in the ordering of\ntheir personal attachments, [p313] that for most men the process of\nsalvation must necessarily begin.\n\nFor disinterestedness in all things, as Dean Inge says, is a mountain\ntrack which the many are likely in the future as in the past to find\ncold, bleak, and bare: that is why \u201cthe road of ascent is by personal\naffection for man.\u201d By the happy ordering of their personal affections\nthey may establish the type and the quality and the direction of their\ndesires for all things. It is in the hidden issues between lovers,\nmore than anywhere else, that modern men and women are compelled, by\npersonal anguish rather than by laws and preachments or even by the\npersuasions of abstract philosophy, to transcend naive desire and to\nreach out towards a mature and disinterested partnership with their\nworld.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV [p314]\n\nTHE MORALIST IN AN UNBELIEVING WORLD\n\n\n1. _The Declaration of Ideals_\n\nOf all the bewilderments of the present age none is greater than that\nof the conscientious and candid moralist himself. The very name of\nmoralist seems to have become a term of disparagement and to suggest\na somewhat pretentious and a somewhat stupid, perhaps even a somewhat\nhypocritical, meddler in other men\u2019s lives. In the minds of very many\nin the modern generation moralists are set down as persons who, in the\nwords of Dean Inge, fancy themselves attracted by God when they are\nreally only repelled by man.\n\nThe disesteem into which moralists have fallen is an historical\naccident. It so happens that those who administered the affairs of the\nestablished churches have, by and large, failed utterly to comprehend\nhow deep and how inexorable was the dissolution of the ancestral order.\nThey imagined either that this change in human affairs was a kind of\ntemporary corruption, or that, like the eighty propositions listed in\nthe Syllabus of Pope Pius IX, it could be regarded as due to \u201cerrors\u201d\nof the human mind. There were, of course, churchmen who knew better,\nbut on the whole those who prevailed in the great ecclesiastical\n[p315] establishments could not believe that the skepticism of mind\nand the freedom of action which modern men exercise were due to\ninexorable historic causes. They declined to acknowledge that modern\nfreedom was not merely a wilful iconoclasm, but the liquidation of an\nolder order of human life.\n\nBecause they could not comprehend the magnitude of the revolution in\nwhich they were involved, they set themselves the task of impeding its\nprogress by chastising the rebels and refuting their rationalizations.\nThis was described as a vindication of morals. The effect was to\nassociate morality with the vindication of the habits and dispositions\nof those who were most thoroughly out of sympathy with the genuine\nneeds of modern men.\n\nThe difficulties of the new age were much more urgent than those which\nthe orthodox moralists were concerned with. The moralists insisted\nthat conduct must conform to the established code; what really worried\nmen was how to adjust their conduct to the novel circumstances which\nconfronted them. When they discovered that those who professed to be\nmoralists were continuing to deny that the novelty of modern things had\nany bearing upon human conduct, and that morality was a word signifying\na return to usages which it was impossible to follow, even if it were\ndesirable, there was a kind of tacit agreement to let the moralists be\nmoral and to find other language in which to describe the difference\nbetween good and bad, right and wrong. Mr. Joad is not unrepresentative\nof this reaction into contempt when he speaks of \u201cthe dowagers, the\naunts, the old maids, the parsons, the town councillors, the clerks,\nthe members of vigilance committees and purity [p316] leagues, all\nthose who are themselves too old to enjoy sex, too unattractive to\nobtain what they would wish to enjoy, or too respectable to prefer\nenjoyment to respectability.\u201d Thus for many the name of moralist came\nto be very nearly synonymous with antipathy to the genius and the\nvitality of the modern age.\n\nBut it is idle for moralists to ascribe the decline of their influence\nto the perversity of their fellow creatures. The phenomenon is\nworld-wide. Moreover, it is most intensely present at precisely those\npoints where the effect of science and the machine technology have\nbeen most thoroughly manifested. The moralists are not confronted\nwith a scandal but with history. They have to come to terms with a\nprocess in the life of mankind which is working upon the inner springs\nof being and altering inevitably the premises of conduct. They need\nnot suppose that their pews are empty and that their exhortations are\nignored because modern men are really as wilful as the manners of the\nyounger generation lead them to conclude. Much of what appears to be a\ntough self-sufficiency is protective: it is a brittle crust covering\ndepths of uncertainty. If the advice of moralists is ignored, it is\nnot because this generation is too proud to listen, or unaware that\nit has anything to learn. On the contrary there is such curiosity and\nquestioning as never before engaged so large a number of men. The\naudience to which a genuine moralist might speak is there. If it is\ninattentive when the orthodox moralist speaks, it is because he seems\nto speak irrelevantly.\n\nThe trouble with the moralists is in the moralists themselves: they\nhave failed to understand their times. They [p317] think they are\ndealing with a generation that refuses to believe in ancient authority.\nThey are, in fact, dealing with a generation that cannot believe in\nit. They think they are confronted with men who have an irrational\npreference for immorality, whereas the men and women about them are\nridden by doubts because they do not know what they prefer, nor why.\nThe moralists fancy that they are standing upon the rock of eternal\ntruth, surveying the chaos about them. They are greatly mistaken.\nNothing in the modern world is more chaotic\u2014not its politics, its\nbusiness, or its sexual relations\u2014than the minds of orthodox moralists\nwho suppose that the problem of morals is somehow to find a way of\nreinforcing the sanctions which are dissolving. How can we, they say in\neffect, find formulas and rhetoric potent enough to make men behave?\nHow can we revive in them that love and fear of God, that sense of the\ncreature\u2019s dependence upon his creator, that obedience to the commands\nof a heavenly king, which once gave force and effect to the moral code?\n\nThey have misconceived the moral problem, and therefore they\nmisconceive the function of the moralist. An authoritative code of\nmorals has force and effect when it expresses the settled customs of\na stable society: the pharisee can impose upon the minority only such\nconventions as the majority find appropriate and necessary. But when\ncustoms are unsettled, as they are in the modern world, by continual\nchange in the circumstances of life, the pharisee is helpless. He\ncannot command with authority because his commands no longer imply the\nusages of the community: they express the prejudices of the moralist\nrather than the practices of men. When that [p318] happens, it is\npresumptuous to issue moral commandments, for in fact nobody has\nauthority to command. It is useless to command when nobody has the\ndisposition to obey. It is futile when nobody really knows exactly\nwhat to command. In such societies, wherever they have appeared among\ncivilized men, the moralist has ceased to be an administrator of usages\nand has had to become an interpreter of human needs. For ages when\ncustom is unsettled are necessarily ages of prophecy. The moralist\ncannot teach what is revealed; he must reveal what can be taught. He\nhas to seek insight rather than to preach.\n\nThe disesteem into which moralists have fallen is due at bottom to\ntheir failure to see that in an age like this one the function of the\nmoralist is not to exhort men to be good but to elucidate what the\ngood is. The problem of sanctions is secondary. For sanctions cannot\nbe artificially constructed: they are a product of agreement and\nusage. Where no agreement exists, where no usages are established,\nwhere ideals are not clarified and where conventions are not\nfollowed comfortably by the mass of men, there are not, and cannot\nbe, sanctions. It is possible to command where most men are already\nobedient. But even the greatest general cannot discipline a whole army\nat once. It is only when the greater part of his army is with him that\nhe can quell the mutiny of a faction.\n\nThe acids of modernity are dissolving the usages and the sanctions to\nwhich men once habitually conformed. It is therefore impossible for the\nmoralist to command. He can only persuade. To persuade he must show\nthat the course of conduct he advocates is not an arbitrary pattern\n[p319] to which vitality must submit, but that which vitality itself\nwould choose if it were clearly understood. He must be able to show\nthat goodness is victorious vitality and badness defeated vitality;\nthat sin is the denial and virtue the fulfilment of the promise\ninherent in the purposes of men. The good, said the Greek moralist, is\n\u201cthat which all things aim at\u201d; we may perhaps take this to mean that\nthe good is that which men would wish to do if they knew what they were\ndoing.\n\nIf the morality of the naive hedonist who blindly seeks the\ngratification of his instincts is irrational in that he trusts immature\ndesire, disregards intelligence and damns the consequences, the\nmorality of the pharisee is no less irrational. It reduces itself to\nthe wholly arbitrary proposition that the best life for man would be\nsome other kind of life than that which satisfies his nature. The true\nfunction of the moralist in an age when usage is unsettled is what\nAristotle who lived in such an age described it to be: to promote good\nconduct by discovering and explaining the mark at which things aim. The\nmoralist is irrelevant, if not meddlesome and dangerous, unless in his\nteaching he strives to give a true account, imaginatively conceived,\nof that which experience would show is desirable among the choices\nthat are possible and necessary. If he is to be listened to, and if\nhe is to deserve a hearing among his fellows, he must set himself\nthis task which is so much humbler than to command and so much more\ndifficult than to exhort: he must seek to anticipate and to supplement\nthe insight of his fellow men into the problems of their adjustment to\nreality. He must find ways to make clear and ordered and expressive\nthose concerns [p320] which are latent but overlaid and confused by\ntheir preoccupations and misunderstandings.\n\nCould he do that with perfect lucidity he would not need to summon the\npolice nor evoke the fear of hell: hell would be what it really is,\nand what in all inspired moralities it has always been understood to\nbe, the very quality of evil itself. Nor would he find himself in the\nabsurd predicament of seeming to argue that virtue is highly desirable\nbut intensely unpleasant. It would not be necessary to praise goodness,\nfor it would be that which men most ardently desired. Were the nature\nof good and evil really made plain by moralists, their teachings would\nappear to the modern listener not like exhortations from without, but\nas Keats said of poetry: \u201ca wording of his own highest thoughts and ...\nalmost a remembrance.\u201d\n\n\n2. _The Choice of a Way_\n\nWhat modernity requires of the moralist is that he should see with an\ninnocent eye how men must reform their wants in a world which is not\nconcerned to make them happy. The problem, as I have tried to show, is\nnot a new one. It has been faced and solved by the masters of wisdom.\nWhat is new is the scale on which the problem is presented\u2014in that so\nmany must face it now\u2014and its radical character in that the organic\nbonds of custom and belief are dissolving. There ensues a continual\nnecessity of adjusting their lives to complex novelty. In such a\nworld simple customs are unsuitable and authoritative commandments\nincredible. No prescription can now be written which men can naively\nand obediently follow. They have, therefore, to reeducate their\n[p321] wants by an understanding of their own relation to a world\nwhich is unconcerned with their hopes and fears. From the moralists\nthey can get only hypotheses\u2014distillations of experience carefully\nexamined\u2014probabilities, that is to say, upon which they may begin to\nact, but which they themselves must constantly correct by their own\ninsight.\n\nIt is difficult for the orthodox moralists to believe that amidst the\nruins of authority men will ever learn to do this. They can point to\nthe urban crowds and ask whether anyone supposes that such persons are\ncapable of ordering their lives by so subtle an instrument as the human\nunderstanding. They can insist with unanswerable force that this is\nabsurd: that the great mass of men must be guided by rules and moved\nby the symbols of hope and fear. And they can ask what there is in\nthe conception of the moralist as I have outlined it which takes the\ncharacter of the populace into account.\n\nWhat I take into account first of all is the fact, which it seems to\nme is indisputable, that for the modern populace the old rules are\nbecoming progressively unsuitable and the old symbols of hope and fear\nprogressively unreal. I ascribe that to the inherent character of the\nmodern ways of living. I conclude from this that if the populace must\nbe led, if it must have easily comprehended rules, if it must have\ncommon symbols of hope and fear, the question is how are its leaders\nto be developed, rules to be worked out, symbols created. The ultimate\nquestion is not how the populace is to be ruled, but what the teachers\nare to think. That is the question that has to be settled first: it is\nthe preface to everything else.\n\nFor while moralists are at sixes and sevens in their own [p322]\nsouls, not much can be done about morality, however high or low may\nbe our estimates of the popular intelligence and character. If it\nwere necessary to assume that ideals are relevant only if they are\nuniversally attainable, it would be a waste of time to discuss them.\nFor it is evident enough that many, if not most men, must fail to\ncomprehend what modern morality implies. But to recognize this is not\nto prophesy that the world is doomed unless men perform the miracle\nof reverting to their ancestral tradition. This is not the first time\nin the history of mankind when a revolution in the affairs of men\nhas produced chaos in the human spirit. The world can endure a good\ndeal of chaos. It always has. The ideal inherent in any age is never\nrealized completely: Greece, which we like to idealize as an oasis of\nrationality, was only in some respects Hellenic; the Ages of Faith\nwere only somewhat Christian. The processes of nature and of society\ngo on somehow none the less. Men are born and they live and die with\nsome happiness and some sorrow though they neither envisage wholly nor\nnearly approximate the ideals they pursue.\n\nBut if civilization is to be coherent and confident it must be _known_\nin that civilization what its ideals are. There must exist in the form\nof clearly available ideas an understanding of what the fulfilment of\nthe promise of that civilization might mean, an imaginative conception\nof the good at which it might, and, if it is to flourish, at which\nit must aim. That knowledge, though no one has it perfectly, and\nthough relatively few have it at all, is the principle of all order\nand certainty in the life of that people. By it they can clarify the\npractical conduct [p323] of life in some measure, and add immeasurably\nto its dignity.\n\nTo elucidate the ideals with which the modern world is pregnant is\nthe original business of the moralist. Insofar as he succeeds in\ndisentangling that which men think they believe from that which\nit is appropriate for them to believe, he is opening his mind to\na true vision of the good life. The vision itself we can discern,\nonly faintly, for we have as yet only the occasional and fragmentary\ntestimony of sages and saints and heroes, dim anticipations here and\nthere, a most imperfect science of human behavior, and our own obscure\nendeavor to make explicit and rational the stresses of the modern\nworld within our own souls. But we can begin to see, I think, that the\nevidence converges upon the theory that what the sages have prophesied\nas high religion, what psychologists delineate as matured personality,\nand the disinterestedness which the Great Society requires for its\npractical fulfilment, are all of a piece, and are the basic elements of\na modern morality. I think the truth lies in this theory.\n\nIf it does, experience will enrich and refine it, and what is now an\nabstract principle arrived at by intuition and dialectic will engender\nideas that marshal, illuminate, and anticipate the subtle and intricate\ndetail of our actual experience. That at least can be our belief. In\nthe meantime, the modern moralist cannot expect soon to construct a\nsystematic and harmonious moral edifice like that which St. Thomas\nAquinas and Dante constructed to house the aspirations of the medi\u00e6val\nworld. He is in a much earlier phase in the evolution of his world,\nin the phase of inquiry and prophecy rather than of ordering and\nharmonizing, [p324] and he is under the necessity of remaining close\nto the elements of experience in order to apprehend them freshly.\nHe cannot, therefore, permit the old symbols of faith and the old\nformulations of right and wrong to prejudice his insight. Insofar as\nthey contain wisdom for him or can become its vehicles, he will return\nto them. But he cannot return to them with honor or with sincerity\nuntil he has himself gone and drunk deeply at the sources of experience\nfrom which they originated.\n\nOnly when he has done that can he again in any honest sense take\npossession of the wisdom which he inherits. It requires wisdom to\nunderstand wisdom; the music is nothing if the audience is deaf.\nIn the great moral systems and the great religions of mankind are\nembedded the record of how men have dealt with destiny, and only the\nthoughtless will argue that that record is obsolete and insignificant.\nBut it is overlaid with much that is obsolete and for that reason it\nis undeciphered and inexpressive. The wisdom it contains has to be\ndiscovered anew before the old symbols will yield up their meaning.\nThat is the only way in which Bacon\u2019s aphorism can be fulfilled,\nthat \u201ca little philosophy inclineth man\u2019s mind to atheism, but depth\nin philosophy bringeth men\u2019s minds about to religion.\u201d The depth\nin philosophy which can bring them about is a much deeper and more\npoignant experience than complacent churchmen suppose.\n\nIt can be no mere settling back into that from which men in the ardor\nof their youth escaped. This man and that may settle back, to be sure;\nhe may cease to inquire though his questions are unanswered. But such\nconformity is sterile, and due to mere weariness of mind and [p325]\nbody. The inquiry goes on because it has to go on, and while the\nvitality of our race is unimpaired, there will be men who feel with Mr.\nWhitehead that \u201cto acquiesce in discrepancy is destructive of candor\nand of moral cleanliness,\u201d and that \u201cit belongs to the self-respect of\nintellect to pursue every tangle of thought to its final unravelment.\u201d\nThe crisis in the religious loyalties of mankind cannot be resolved by\nweariness and good nature, or by the invention of little intellectual\ndevices for straightening out the dilemmas of biology and Genesis,\nhistory and the Gospels with which so many churchmen busy themselves.\nBeneath these little conflicts there is a real dilemma which modern men\ncannot successfully evade. \u201cWhere is the way where light dwelleth?\u201d\nThey are compelled to choose consciously, clearly, and with full\nrealization of what the choice implies, between religion as a system of\ncosmic government and religion as insight into a cleansed and matured\npersonality: between God conceived as the master of that fate, creator,\nprovidence, and king, and God conceived as the highest good at which\nthey might aim. For God is the supreme symbol in which man expresses\nhis destiny, and if that symbol is confused, his life is confused.\n\nMen have not, hitherto, had to make that choice, for the historic\nchurches have sheltered both kinds of religious experience, and the\nsame mysteries have been the symbols of both. That confusion is no\nlonger benign because men are no longer unconscious of it. They are\naware that it is a confusion, and they are stultified by it. Because\nthe popular religion of supernatural governments is undermined, the\nsymbols of religion do not provide clear channels [p326] for religious\nexperience. They are choked with the debris of dead notions in which\nmen are unable to believe and unwilling to disbelieve. The result is a\nfrustration in the inner life which will persist as long as the leaders\nof thought speak of God in more senses than one, and thus render all\nfaith invalid, insincere, and faltering.\n\n\n3. _The Religion of the Spirit_\n\nThe choice is at last a personal one. The decision is rendered not by\nargument but by feeling. Those who believe that their salvation lies\nin obedience to, and communion with, the King of Creation can know how\nwhole-hearted their faith is by the confidence of their own hearts. If\nthey are at peace, they need inquire no further. There are, however,\nthose who do not find a principle of order in the belief that they are\nrelated to a supernatural power. They cannot be argued into the ancient\nbelief, for it has been dissolved by the circumstances of their lives.\nThey are deeply perplexed. They have learned that the absence of belief\nis vacancy; they know, from disillusionment and anxiety, that there is\nno freedom in mere freedom. They must find, then, some other principle\nwhich will give coherence and direction to their lives.\n\nIf the argument in these pages is sound, they need not look for and,\nin fact, cannot hope for, some new and unexpected revelation. Since\nthey are unable to find a principle of order in the authority of a\nwill outside themselves, there is no place they can find it except\nin an ideal of the human personality. But they do not have to invent\nsuch an ideal out of hand. The ideal way of life for men who must make\ntheir own terms with experience and find [p327] their own happiness\nhas been stated again and again. It is that only the regenerate, the\ndisinterested, the mature, can make use of freedom. This is the central\ninsight of the teachers of wisdom. We can see now, I think, that it\nis also the mark at which the modern study of human nature points. We\ncan see, too, that it is the pattern of successful conduct in the most\nadvanced phases of the development of modern civilization. The ideal,\nthen, is an old one, but its confirmation and its practical pertinence\nare new. The world is able at last to take seriously what its greatest\nteachers have said. And since all things need a name, if they are to be\ntalked about, devotion to this ideal may properly be called by the name\nwhich these greatest teachers gave it; it may be called the religion\nof the spirit. At the heart of it is the knowledge that the goal of\nhuman effort is to be able, in the words I have so often quoted from\nConfucius, to follow what the heart desires without transgressing what\nis right.\n\nIn an age when custom is dissolved and authority is broken, the\nreligion of the spirit is not merely a possible way of life. In\nprinciple it is the only way which transcends the difficulties. It\nalone is perfectly neutral about the constitution of the universe, in\nthat it has no expectation that the universe will justify naive desire.\nTherefore, the progress of science cannot upset it. Its indifference to\nwhat the facts may be is indeed the very spirit of scientific inquiry.\nA religion which rests upon particular conclusions in astronomy,\nbiology, and history may be fatally injured by the discovery of new\ntruths. But the religion of the spirit does not depend upon creeds and\ncosmologies; it has no vested interest in any particular truth. It is\n[p328] concerned not with the organization of matter, but with the\nquality of human desire.\n\nIt alone can endure the variety and complexity of things, for the\nreligion of the spirit has no thesis to defend. It seeks excellence\nwherever it may appear, and finds it in anything which is inwardly\nunderstood; its motive is not acquisition but sympathy. Whatever is\ncompletely understood with sympathy for its own logic and purposes\nceases to be external and stubborn and is wholly tamed. To understand\nis not only to pardon, but in the end to love. There is no itch in\nthe religion of the spirit to make men good by bearing down upon them\nwith righteousness and making them conform to a pattern. Its social\nprinciple is to live and let live. It has the only tolerable code of\nmanners for a society in which men and women have become freely-moving\nindividuals, no longer held in the grooves of custom by their ancestral\nways. It is the only disposition of the soul which meets the moral\ndifficulties of an anarchical age, for its principle is to civilize the\npassions, not by regulating them imperiously, but by transforming them\nwith a mature understanding of their place in an adult environment.\nIt is the only possible hygiene of the soul for men whose selves have\nbecome disjointed by the loss of their central certainties, because\nit counsels them to draw the sting of possessiveness out of their\npassions, and thus by removing anxiety to render them harmonious and\nserene.\n\nThe philosophy of the spirit is an almost exact reversal of the\nworldling\u2019s philosophy. The ordinary man believes that he will be\nblessed if he is virtuous, and therefore virtue seems to him a price\nhe pays now for a blessedness he [p329] will some day enjoy. While\nhe is waiting for his reward, therefore, virtue seems to him drab,\narbitrary, and meaningless. For the reward is deferred, and there is\nreally no instant proof that virtue really leads to the happiness he\nhas been promised. Because the reward is deferred, it too becomes\nvague and dubious, for that which we never experience, we cannot truly\nunderstand. In the realm of the spirit, blessedness is not deferred:\nthere is no future which is more auspicious than the present; there\nare no compensations later for evils now. Evil is to be overcome now\nand happiness is to be achieved now, for the kingdom of God is within\nyou. The life of the spirit is not a commercial transaction in which\nthe profit has to be anticipated; it is a kind of experience which is\ninherently profitable.\n\nAnd so the mature man would take the world as it comes, and within\nhimself remain quite unperturbed. When he acted, he would know that he\nwas only testing an hypothesis, and if he failed, he would know that he\nhad made a mistake. He would be quite prepared for the discovery that\nhe might make mistakes, for his intelligence would be disentangled from\nhis hopes. The failure of his experiment could not, therefore, involve\nthe failure of his life. For the aspect of life which implicated his\nsoul would be his understanding of life, and, to the understanding,\ndefeat is no less interesting than victory. It would be no effort,\ntherefore, for him to be tolerant, and no annoyance to be skeptical.\nHe would face pain with fortitude, for he would have put it away\nfrom the inner chambers of his soul. Fear would not haunt him, for\nhe would be without compulsion to seize anything and without anxiety\n[p330] as to its fate. He would be strong, not with the strength of\nhard resolves, but because he was free of that tension which vain\nexpectations beget. Would his life be uninteresting because he was\ndisinterested? He would have the whole universe, rather than the prison\nof his own hopes and fears, for his habitation, and in imagination all\npossible forms of being. How could that be dull unless he brought the\ndullness with him? He might dwell with all beauty and all knowledge,\nand they are inexhaustible. Would he, then, dream idle dreams? Only if\nhe chose to. For he might go quite simply about the business of the\nworld, a good deal more effectively perhaps than the worldling, in\nthat he did not place an absolute value upon it, and deceive himself.\nWould he be hopeful? Not if to be hopeful was to expect the world to\nsubmit rather soon to his vanity. Would he be hopeless? Hope is an\nexpectation of favors to come, and he would take his delights here and\nnow. Since nothing gnawed at his vitals, neither doubt nor ambition,\nnor frustration, nor fear, he would move easily through life. And so\nwhether he saw the thing as comedy, or high tragedy, or plain farce, he\nwould affirm that it is what it is, and that the wise man can enjoy it.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX [p331]\n\nACKNOWLEDGMENTS\n\n\nAt the suggestion of the publishers, the references which follow have\nbeen segregated in an appendix instead of being scattered as footnotes\nthrough the text. They felt, rightly enough, I think, that in a book of\nthis character the purpose of the notes was to acknowledge indebtedness\nfor the material cited rather than to support the argument, and\nthat the reader would prefer not to have the text encumbered by the\napparatus of a kind of scholarship to which the author makes no\npretensions.\n\nWhile these notes, except in a few instances, refer only to matter\nactually used in the text, they are also an approximate bibliography\nof the works which I have consulted. I wish I could adequately\nacknowledge the obligation I owe to my teachers, William James, George\nSantayana, and Graham Wallas, though that perhaps is self-evident. I\nshould like to thank Miss Jane Mather and Miss Orrie Lashin for help\nin the preparation of the manuscript. I am under special obligation\nto my wife, Faye Lippmann, without whose assistance I could not have\ncompleted the book.\n\n W. L.\n\nNew York City, January, 1929.\n\n\n\n\n NOTES [p332]\n\n[Transcriber\u2019s note: a standard page of this book had 31 or 32 lines.]\n\n\nPAGE LINE\n\n 4 32 Quoted in Irving Babbitt, _Rousseau and Romanticism_, p. 181.\n\n 5 4 John Herman Randall Jr., _The Making of the Modern Mind_,\n p. 118.\n\n 5 21 From _The City of Dreadful Night_, cited, Babbitt, op.\n cit., p. 332.\n\n 5 24 For discussion of this theme, cf. Babbitt, op. cit.\n passim.\n\n 5 29 Shelley, _Prometheus Unbound_, Act III, Scene IV.\n\n 6 12 From Byron, _The Island_, cited, Babbitt, op. cit., p. 186.\n\n 6 16 From T. H. Huxley, _Address on University Education_,\n delivered, 1876, at the formal opening of Johns Hopkins\n University. I am indebted to Mr. Henry Hazlitt for the\n quotation.\n\n 7 11 Cited, Babbitt, op. cit., p. 341.\n\n 7 20 Nietzsche, _Thus Spake Zarathustra_, LXIX, cited,\n Babbitt, op. cit., p. 261.\n\n 11 12 Cf. W. R. Inge, _The Platonic Tradition in English\n Religious Thought_.\n\n 11 19 W. C. Greene, Introduction to Selection from the\n _Dialogues of Plato_, p. xxiv.\n\n 13 27 Calvin, _Institutes_, Book IV, Chapter X, Paragraph 7,\n cited A. C. M\u2019Giffert, _Protestant Thought Before Kant_, p.\n 90.\n\n 21 32 Harry Emerson Fosdick, _Adventurous Religion_, p. 59.\n\n 24 8 W. C. Brownell, Scribner\u2019s Magazine, Vol. XXX, p. 112,\n cited in footnote, William James, _The Varieties of\n Religious Experience_, p. 115.\n\n 24 25 William James, _The Varieties of Religious Experience_,\n p. 518.\n\n 25 12 James, op. cit., p. 519.\n\n 26 7 Alfred North Whitehead, _Science and the Modern World_,\n pp. 249\u2013250.\n\n 27 12 Bertrand Russell, _A Free Man\u2019s Worship_, in _Mysticism\n and Logic_, p. 54.\n\n 27 27 Kirsopp Lake, _The Religion of Yesterday and Tomorrow_.\n\n 30 2 W. R. Inge, _Science, Religion and Reality_, p. 388. [p333]\n\n 31 3 Cf. W. B. Riley, _The Faith of the Fundamentalists_,\n Times Current History, June, 1927.\n\n 34 18 _Fundamentalism and the Faith_, Commonweal, Aug. 19,\n 1925.\n\n 35 25 George Santayana, _Reason in Religion_, p. 97.\n\n 37 22 The material in this section is taken from Harry Emerson\n Fosdick, _The Modern Use of the Bible_.\n\n 40 2 Fosdick, op. cit., p. 83.\n\n 42 5 Fosdick, _The Desire for Immortality_, in _Adventurous\n Religion_.\n\n 44 10 W. R. Inge, _The Philosophy of Plotinus_, Vol. II, p. 166.\n\n 44 23 W. R. Inge, _The Platonic Tradition in English Religious\n Thought_.\n\n 47 30 Fosdick, _The Modern Use of the Bible_.\n\n 51 22 Cf. Rudolf Otto, _Chrysostom on the Inconceivable in\n God_, in _The Idea of the Holy_. Appendix I; cf. also\n the _Catholic Encyclopedia_, Vol. VIII, p. 452; cf. also\n William James, _The Varieties of Religious Experience_,\n Lecture III.\n\n 56 21 Lord Acton, inaugural _Lecture on the Study of History_,\n in _Lectures on Modern History_.\n\n 70 29 Otto Gierke, _Political Theories of the Middle Ages_\u2014\n Translated by F. W. Maitland, p. 7.\n\n 71 14 From the Song of Roland, cited, Henry Adams,\n _Mont-Saint-Michel and Chartres_, p. 29.\n\n 72 18 For an analysis of the texts on which this claim was\n based, cf. James T. Shotwell and Louise Ropes Loomis, _The\n See of Peter_.\n\n 73 18 Cited in A. C. M\u2019Giffert, _Protestant Thought Before\n Kant_, p. 44.\n\n 74 7 For a comprehensive condemnation by the Holy See of\n modern opinions which undermine the authority of the Roman\n Catholic Church, see the Syllabus of Pius IX (1864) and\n the Syllabus of Pius X (1907). The Syllabus of 1864 lists\n and condemns eighty principal errors of our time, and\n is described by the Catholic Encyclopedia (Vol. XIV, p.\n 369) as opposition \u201cto the high tide of that intellectual\n movement of the Nineteenth Century which strove to sweep\n away the foundations of all human and Divine order.\u201d\n The Syllabus of 1907 condemns sixty-five propositions\n of the Modernists which would \u201cdestroy the foundations\n of all natural and supernatural knowledge.\u201d (Catholic\n Encyclopedia, Vol. XIV, [p334] p. 370.) It should be noted\n that there is difference of opinion among Catholic scholars\n as to the binding power of these two pronouncements, and\n also that their meaning is open to elaborate interpretation.\n\n 75 2 _Catholic Encyclopedia_, Vol. XIV, p. 766.\n\n 76 20 J. N. Figgis, _Political Thought in the Sixteenth\n Century_, Cambridge Modern History, Vol. III, p. 743.\n\n 79 4 Cf. J. N. Figgis, op. cit., p. 742.\n\n 80 20 For an able recent exposition by an American of this\n theory of absolutism, cf. Charles C. Marshall, _The Roman\n Catholic Church in the Modern State_.\n\n 85 24 Cited R. H. Tawney, _Religion and the Rise of\n Capitalism_, p. 44.\n\n 86 13 Cited Tawney, op. cit., p. 243.\n\n 98 6 The facts cited in this section are from: E. M\u00e2le, _L\u2019Art\n Religieux du XIIIeme Si\u00e8cle en France_, and _L\u2019Art\n Religieux de la Fin du Moyen-Age en France_. But cf. G. G.\n Coulton, _Art and the Reformation_.\n\n 102 28 _Prometheus Unbound_, cited A. N. Whitehead, _Science\n and the Modern World_, p. 119.\n\n 104 23 R. H. Wilenski, _The Modern Movement in Art_, p. 5.\n\n 109 10 Cf. Diego Rivera, _The Revolution in Painting_, in\n Creative Art, Vol. IV, No. 1. \u201cAnd there is absolutely\n no reason to be frightened because the subject is so\n essential. On the contrary, precisely because the\n subject is admitted as a prime necessity, the artist is\n absolutely free to create a thoroughly plastic form of\n art. The subject is to the painter what the rails are\n to a locomotive. He cannot do without it. In fact, when\n he refuses to seek or accept a subject, his own plastic\n methods and his own esthetic theories become his subject\n instead. And even if he escapes them, he himself becomes\n the subject of his work. He becomes nothing but an\n illustrator of his own state of mind, and in trying to\n liberate himself he falls into the worst form of slavery.\n That is the cause of all the boredom which emanates\n from so many of the large expositions of modern art, a\n fact testified to again and again by the most different\n temperaments.\u201d\n\n 109 18 Bernard Berenson, _The Florentine Painters of the\n Renaissance_, p. 19.\n\n 111 4 Cf. R. H. Wilenski, _The Modern Movement in Art_, p. 119.\n\n 116 4 Cf. George Santayana, _Reason in Religion_, pp. 92 et\n seq. [p335]\n\n 119 28 Cf. _Catholic Encyclopedia_, Vol. X, p. 342.\n\n 123 17 Whitehead, _Science and the Modern World_, p. 257.\n\n 127 2 A. S. Eddington, _Stars and Atoms_, p. 121.\n\n 128 1 John Herman Randall Jr., _The Making of the Modern Mind_,\n p. 100.\n\n 128 9 _Epist. ad Can Grand_, cited in footnote to _Paradiso_ in\n the Temple Classics.\n\n 129 3 Cf. P. W. Bridgman, _The Logic of Modern Physics_, p. 45.\n\n 129 23 C. S. Peirce, _How to Make Our Ideas Clear in Chance,\n Love and Logic_, edited by Morris R. Cohen.\n\n 130 4 Bridgman, op. cit., p. 38.\n\n 135 2 Cited L. R. Farnell, _The Attributes of God_, p. 275.\n\n 137 31 Cf. M. C. Otto, _Natural Laws and Human Hopes_, pp. 32\n et seq.\n\n 146 29 The _Catholic Encyclopedia_, Vol. XII, p. 345.\n\n 147 29 Cf. B. L. Manning, _The People\u2019s Faith in the Time of\n Wyclif_.\n\n 148 3 Fosdick, _Adventurous Religion_, p. 85 et seq.\n\n 148 9 Santayana, _Reason in Religion_, p. 43.\n\n 148 17 L. R. Farnell, _The Attributes of God_, p. 15.\n\n 149 14 Manning, op. cit.\n\n 159 2 Herbert Asbury, _A Methodist Saint, The Life of Bishop\n Asbury_, p. 265.\n\n 160 20 Cf. _Encyclopedia Britannica_, \u201cAsceticism.\u201d\n\n 161 17 Cf. _Catholic Encyclopedia_, Vol. I, p. 768.\n\n 162 5 Quoted in Irving Babbitt, _Rousseau and Romanticism_, p. 45.\n\n 162 19 _Rabelais_, Book II, Chapter 34.\n\n 163 6 Cited Henry Osborn Taylor, _Thought and Expression in the\n Sixteenth Century_, Vol. I, p. 330.\n\n 163 25 Babbitt, op. cit., p. 161.\n\n 163 28 Cf. Dora Russell, _The Right to be Happy_.\n\n 164 5 Cf. Bertrand Russell, _Political Ideals_.\n\n 165 17 T. W. Rhys Davids, _Buddhism_, p. 111.\n\n 166 22 _Ethics_, Book II, Chapter 9.\n\n 177 3 S. Freud, _Formulierung \u00fcber die zwei Prinzipien des\n psychischen Geschehens_, 1911, Jahrb, Bd., I, s. 411.\n\n 177 10 S. Ferenczi, _Stages in the Development of the Sense of\n Reality_, 1913. In _Contributions to Psychoanalysis_,\n translated by Dr. Ernest Jones.\n\n 192 13 Spinoza, _Ethics_, Part V, Prop. XLII.\n\n 192 23 Cf. T. W. Rhys Davids, _Buddhism_, p. 110.\n\n 192 31 _Confucian Analects_, Book II, Chapter 4.\n\n 195 25 A. N. Whitehead, _Religion in the Making_, pp. 15\u201316. [p336]\n\n 196 20 _Analects_ VII, XX.\n\n 197 24 _Ethics_, Part V, Prop. XLII.\n\n 199 19 Cf. T. W. Rhys Davids, _Buddhism_, p. 84.\n\n 199 30 C. Snouck Hurgronje, _Mohammedanism_, p. 82.\n\n 200 18 _Republic_, VI, 495, 504.\n\n 205 5 Cf. J. Burnet, _Philosophy_ in _The Legacy of Greece_,\n edited by R. W. Livingstone, p. 67.\n\n 218 9 Lucretius, _On the Nature of Things_, Book Third,\n Translation by H. A. J. Munro.\n\n 220 1 Spinoza, _Ethics_, Part V, Prop. III.\n\n 220 4 Id., Part V, Prop. VI.\n\n 224 28 Aristotle, _Ethics_, Book IV, Chapter III.\n\n 232 18 Oswald Spengler, _The Decline of the West_.\n\n 233 25 C. A. Beard, _Is Western Civilization in Peril?_\n Harper\u2019s Magazine, August, 1928.\n\n 234 17 H. G. Wells, _The Outline of History_, Vol. II, pp. 394\u20135.\n\n 235 30 A. N. Whitehead, _Science and the Modern World_, p. 4.\n\n 236 10 W. T. Sedgwick and H. W. Tyler, _A Short History of\n Science_, p. 269. Cf. Martha Ornstein, _The Role of\n Scientific Societies in the Seventeenth Century_.\n\n 237 7 J. B. Bury, _The Idea of Progress_, p. 330.\n\n 238 16 For a most illuminating description of the behavior of a\n great scientific investigator, cf. Claude Bernard, _An\n Introduction to the Study of Experimental Medicine_.\n\n 238 26 Bertrand Russell, _Mysticism and Logic_, p. 42.\n\n 240 19 Cf. Graham Wallas, _Our Social Heritage_, Chapter I.\n\n 241 12 John Herman Randall Jr., _The Making of the Modern\n Mind_, p. 279.\n\n 242 24 Adam Smith, _The Wealth of Nations_, Book IV, Chapter 9.\n\n 245 4 Cited in R. H. Tawney, _Religion and the Rise of\n Capitalism_, p. 286.\n\n 265 19 Otto Gierke, _Political Theories of the Middle Age_,\n Translated by F. W. Maitland, p. 23.\n\n 266 9 Id., p. 88.\n\n 266 12 Cf. J. W. Garner, _Introduction to Political Science_, p. 92.\n\n 267 7 For a discussion of the concept of sovereignty in the\n modern world, cf. Otto Gierke, _Political Theories of\n the Middle Ages_; J. N. Figgis, _Churches in the Modern\n State_; Lord Acton, _History of Freedom and Other Essays_;\n H. J. Laski, _A Grammar of Politics_; Kung Chuan Hsiao,\n _Political Pluralism_.\n\n 274 11 William Hard, _Who\u2019s Hoover?_ p. 193.\n\n 280 31 _Reflections on the French Revolution_, cf. Garner, op.\n cit., p. 112. [p337]\n\n 288 6 Genesis XXXVIII; cf. Harold Cox, _The Problem of\n Population_, pp. 208\u2013211, for an interpretation of the\n story of Onan in the light of Deut. XXV, which shows that\n the crime of Onan was not the spilling of his seed, but a\n breach of Jewish tribal law in refusing \u201cto perform the\n duty of a husband\u2019s brother\u201d with his brother\u2019s widow.\n\n 289 1 Psalm 127, cf. Cox, op. cit.\n\n 289 9 The historical data are from A. M. Carr-Saunders, _The\n Population Problem_, Chapter I.\n\n 295 6 Havelock Ellis, _Love as an Art_, in Count Hermann\n Keyserling\u2019s _The Book of Marriage_, p. 388.\n\n 295 21 Santayana, _The Life of Reason_, Vol. II, p. 10.\n\n 297 3 C. E. M. Joad, _Thrasymachus_, or _The Future of Morals_,\n pp. 54\u201355.\n\n 297 15 Havelock Ellis, _The Family_, in _Whither Mankind_, p. 216.\n\n 299 4 Quoted in Judge Ben B. Lindsey and Wainwright Evans, _The\n Companionate Marriage_, p. 210.\n\n 302 18 Cf. Alfred Weber, _History of Philosophy_, p. 72.\n\n 304 24 _Love\u2014Or the Life and Death of a Value_, Atlantic\n Monthly, August, 1928.\n\n 310 14 _Reason in Society_, p. 22.\n\n 313 6 W. R. Inge, _The Philosophy of Plotinus_, Vol. II, p. 161.\n\n 320 15 John Keats, Letters to John Taylor, Feb. 27, 1818\u2014in\n _Oxford Book of English Prose_, No. 379.\n\n\n\n\n INDEX [p339]\n\n\n Absolute state, 80\n\n Absolutism, 266\n\n _Accademia dei Lincei_, 236\n\n \u201cAcids of modernity.\u201d _See_ Modernity.\n\n Acquisitive instinct, 250\n\n Acton, Lord, 56\n\n Adams, Henry, 71\n\n Adeimantus, 160\n\n Adultery, 89\n\n \u201cAgnostic,\u201d 28, 77\n\n Agnostics, 29, 54\n\n Agnosticism, 34\n\n Allegiance, 263, 265, 267, 268\u2013269\n\n Allegory, 37, 38\u201340\n\n American farmer, 85, 276\n\n Americanism, 61, 63, 274\n\n American Philosophical Association, 236\n\n Anabaptists, 15\n\n Analysis, scientific, 107\n\n Ananias, 95\n\n Anarchy, moral, 209\n\n Anne, St., 149\n\n Anthropomorphism, 28, 148\n\n Anti-evolution laws, 31\n\n Antioch, 51, 52\n\n Apostles, 58, 99, 120, 200\n\n Aquinas, St. Thomas, 11, 68, 71, 100, 218, 323\n\n Arcadia, 148, 162\n\n Arians, 52\n\n Aristocracy, 15\n\n Aristophanes, 4\n\n Aristotle, 26, 48, 127, 156, 157, 161, 166\u2013167, 194, 224, 244, 319\n\n Art, 112;\n Christian, 101;\n for art\u2019s sake, 101, 104\u2013105, 107\n\n Artist, modern, 108\u2013109\n\n Artists and the Catholic Church, 98\u2013101, 104\n\n Asbury, Bishop, 158\n\n Asbury, Herbert, 158\n\n Asceticism, 155, 156\u2013161, 191, 192, 204, 205\n\n Astronomers, Newtonian, 123\n\n Atheism, 28, 324\n\n \u201cAtheist,\u201d 28, 29\n\n Atheists, 6, 54, 194\n\n Augsburg, Peace of, 79\n\n Augustine, St., 37, 38, 69, 71, 73, 113, 196\n\n Authority, 13, 14, 166, 202, 262, 272, 317, 326;\n divine, 135;\n ecclesiastical, 14\u201315, 35, 76, 93, 133, 236;\n moral, 9\n\n\n Bacon, 324\n\n Baxter, 86\n\n Beard, Charles A., 233, 235\n\n Beauty, religion of, 18\n\n Beauvais, Vincent de, 99\n\n Behavior, 171\u2013172, 186\n\n Behaviorism, 174, 177\n\n Belief, childish, 185, 189, 190\n\n Berenson, 109\n\n Bergson, 107\n\n Berlin Academy, 236\n\n Besant, Mrs., 290\n\n Betelguese, 169\n\n Bible, 13, 23, 27, 34\u201335, 37, 38\u201339, 40, 41, 44, 45, 46, 47\u201348, 60,\n 78, 121, 131, 132, 162, 214, 288;\n epic of, 116, 117\n\n Biblical world, 40\n\n Bigotry, 190\n\n Bill of Rights, 114\n\n Biologists, 150\u2013151, 325\n\n Birth control, 93, 285, 287, 289\u2013291, 292\u2013293, 296\u2013297, 298\u2013299, 301,\n 305\u2013306, 307\n\n Bishop of Rome, 71\n\n Bodin, Jean, 262\n\n Bolshevism, 251\u2013253, 254\u2013255 [p340]\n\n Bradlaugh, 290\n\n Breuer, 220\n\n Bridgman, Prof., 129\n\n Broadway Temple, 88\n\n Brownell, W. C., 24\n\n Bryan, 77\n\n Buddha, 46, 155, 156, 161, 165, 193, 194, 199, 200\n\n Buffon, 241\n\n Bunyan, John, 86\n\n Bureaucracy, 249\u2013250\n\n Burke, Edmund, 280\n\n Bury, Prof. John B., 236\n\n Business, 231, 284;\n and the Catholic Church, 84\u201388;\n organized, 244;\n stabilization of, 256\n\n Byron, 5, 6\n\n\n Calles, 264, 265\n\n Calvin, 13, 39, 73, 74, 135\n\n Calvinism, 13\n\n Canby, Henry Seidel, 17\n\n Capitalism, 16, 85, 245, 247\u2013248, 250\u2013251;\n primitive, 251\u2013252;\n rise of, 232, 245\u2013246\n\n Capitalists, 242;\n abolition of, 249\u2013250;\n coercion of, 248\u2013249\n\n Capitalistic credo, 244\u2013245\n\n Caste, 199\n\n Catholic Church, 7, 15, 34, 35, 37, 38, 39, 49, 58, 72, 73, 77, 81,\n 84\u201385, 86, 94, 98, 117, 120, 161, 205\u2013206, 291\n\n _Catholic Encyclopedia_, 51, 74\n\n Catholicism, 11, 15, 35, 58, 78, 81, 86, 109\n\n Catholics, 74, 76\u201377\n\n Cause and effect, 181\n\n Cecilia, St., 98\u201399\n\n Certainty, feeling of, 19, 21, 322\n\n Certainty, moral. _See_ Moral certainty.\n\n Chateaubriand, 5\n\n Chesterton, G. K., 56\u201357\n\n Children and the churches, 91, 93\n\n Christ, 13, 14, 23, 29\u201330, 33, 58, 74, 99, 205;\n _See also_ Jesus.\n\n \u201cChrist, athletes of,\u201d 160\n\n Christian capitalism, 87\n\n _Christian Directory_, 86\n\n Christian doctrine, 152, 163\n\n Christian Fathers, 207\n\n Christianity, 8\u20139, 11, 29\u201330, 32, 34, 55, 58, 205\u2013206, 250;\n foundations of, 51\n\n _Christianity and Liberalism_, 32\n\n Christian socialism, 87\n\n Chrysostom, St., 51\u201354\n\n Church and state, 75, 79\u201380, 112\n\n Church attendance, 48\n\n Church councils, 58\n\n Church of England, 266\n\n Church of St. Urban, 98\n\n _City of God_, 69, 71;\n _See also \u201cCivitas Dei.\u201d_\n\n Civilization, cycle of, 232;\n modern, 4, 9, 62, 230, 233\u2013234, 237, 240, 241, 265, 267, 271, 273,\n 300, 327;\n Roman, 233\u2013234;\n technological, 233, 238, 240\n\n Civil service, 271\u2013272\n\n Civil War, 66\n\n _Civitas Dei_, 70;\n _See also \u201cCity of God.\u201d_\n\n Commercial enterprise, 86\n\n Commonsense, religion of, 44, 45\n\n _Commonweal_, 34\n\n Communities, homogeneous, 270\u2013271\n\n Competition, 247;\n free, 244\n\n Compulsions, old and new, 9\u201310\n\n Comstock, Anthony, 156\n\n Conceptions of God, 51;\n Eighteenth-Century, 55;\n Luther\u2019s, 53;\n medi\u00e6val, 55, 71\u201372;\n Modernist, 55;\n Oriental, 55;\n St. Chrysostom\u2019s, 52\u201353\n\n Concepts, fixed, 171\n\n _Conclusions to The Renaissance_, 106\n\n Conduct, human, 145, 230, 284, 323\n\n Conformity, 12, 324\u2013325, 328\n\n Confucius, 193, 196, 258, 327\n\n Conventions, new, 12\n\n Conversion, 192, 198\n\n Council of Vienna, 87\n\n Counter-Reformation, 94, 96\n\n Courage, 222\u2013223\n\n Cox, Harold, 288 [p341]\n\n Creation, 99;\n theory of, 11\n\n Creative evolution, 18, 117, 131\n\n Creator, dependence on, 69\n\n Credulity, modern, 8\u20139\n\n Creeds, profusion of, 110\n\n _Critique of Pure Reason_, 136\n\n Cults, modern, 9, 14, 125\u2013126\n\n Culture, theocratic, 164, 175, 221\n\n Curia, 81\n\n Curiosity, 129\u2013130\n\n Custom, 166, 167, 241, 327\n\n\n Dante, 11, 68, 69, 128, 323\n\n Darwin, 210\n\n Darwinism, 125, 132, 174\n\n Darrow, Clarence, 13\n\n Davids, Rhys, 165\n\n Decoding the Bible, 41, 47\n\n Della Porta, 236\n\n Democracy, 15, 264, 278\n\n Desire, reform of, 201, 202, 282, 320\u2013321\n\n Desires, human, 145, 146, 165, 167\u2013170, 172, 180, 182, 186, 190, 193,\n 206, 216, 310\u2013311, 319\n\n Destiny, human, 133, 184, 218, 324\n\n Development, concept of, 171\u2013172, 174, 191;\n industrial, 245\u2013246, 252, 253\u2013254, 255, 257, 258\n\n _Dialogue of Dives and Pauper_, 147\n\n Dictatorship, military, 253, 264\n\n Disciplines, 202, 203, 205\n\n Disillusionment, 17, 326\n\n Disinterestedness, 204, 206, 209, 210, 221, 225, 230\u2013231, 237,\n 238\u2013239, 243, 258, 272, 281, 283, 311, 313, 323, 327, 330\n\n Disorders, social, 191\u2013192, 206\n\n Disposition to believe, 143\n\n _Divine Comedy_, 69, 128\n\n Divine government, sense of, 72, 95, 194;\n theory of, 71\u201372, 82, 175\n\n Divine right of kings, 79, 265\n\n Divorce, 299, 308\n\n Doge, 81\n\n Dogma, 13, 96, 125, 133, 176, 244\n\n Domain of religion, 82\n\n Donne, John, 40\n\n Doubt, freedom from, 16\n\n\n Ecclesiastical establishments, 196, 201, 314\u2013315\n\n Eckhart, 196\n\n Economic order, new, 86, 246\u2013248\n\n Eddington, Dr., 127\n\n Eden, 37\n\n Education, 175, 184, 191, 192, 198, 230\n\n Eighteenth Century, 154, 174, 266, 289\n\n _\u00c9lan vital_, 55\n\n Eliot, T. S., 303\n\n Ellis, Havelock, 293, 295\u2013296, 297, 301, 305\n\n Emancipation, 19;\n of women, 91\u201392\n\n Emotions, 220\n\n _Encyclopedia Britannica_, 289\n\n England, 253\u2013254, 272, 273\n\n Environment, 145, 172, 180, 181, 184, 189, 190, 247, 250\n\n Epistles of St. Paul, 44\n\n Erasmus, 196\n\n _Essay on Population_, 289\n\n Estheticism, 105, 107\n\n Ethical codes, 49, 165\n\n _Ethics_, 166\n\n Evil, problem of, 145, 156, 213, 214, 216\u2013217, 218, 329;\n sense of, 188, 189, 218\u2013219\n\n Evils, social, 243\n\n Evolution, 60, 117, 122, 125, 132, 171, 210, 231;\n _See also_ Creative evolution.\n\n Excommunication, 76\n\n Executives, modern business, 256\u2013257\n\n Exhibition of London, 236\u2013237\n\n Existence, 108, 117, 123\n\n Exodus, 27, 118\n\n Experience, Christian, 33;\n esthetic, 106;\n lessons of, 181, 182, 183, 186, 188, 189, 192, 195, 227;\n scientific, 220\n\n\n Faith, age of, 83, 322;\n questions of, 77 [p342]\n\n Fallacy, 167, 168\n\n Family, 88, 91\u201392, 93\n\n Fanaticism, 271\n\n Faraday, 240\n\n Fascism, 251\u2013253, 254\n\n _Faust_, 116\n\n Federal Council of Churches of Christ, 87\n\n Ferenczi, Dr. S., 177\u2013179\n\n Fetich worship, 160\n\n Feudal system, 85\u201386, 242, 252, 253, 263, 266\u2013267\n\n Figgis, Dr., 76, 81\n\n Fildes, Mrs., 289\u2013290\n\n Flaubert, 7\n\n Ford, Henry, 64\n\n Fornication, 89\n\n Fosdick, Rev. Harry Emerson, 21\u201322, 40, 41, 42, 45\u201346, 47, 97, 147\u2013148\n\n Fourth Gospel, 11, 44, 194\n\n Francis, St., 69, 113\n\n Franklin, Benjamin, 236\n\n Freedom, 17, 136, 242, 262, 315, 326, 327;\n religious, 75\n\n French Academy of Sciences, 236\n\n Freud, 107, 157, 176, 177, 179, 220\n\n _Fruits of Philosophy_, 290\n\n Fundamentalism, 30\u201331, 34\u201335, 64\n\n Fundamentalists, 31, 33\u201334, 51, 60, 77\n\n\n Galileo, 123\u2013124, 236\n\n Gargantua, 162\u2013163\n\n Genesis, 27, 38, 131, 132, 325\n\n Geneva, 74\n\n Genteel, cult of, 155\n\n Gentleman, ideal of, 167\n\n Germany, 254, 272\n\n _Gestalt-theorie_, 174, 177\n\n Gierke, 70\n\n Giotto, 109\n\n Gnostics, 52\n\n God, attributes of, 213\u2013214, 215\u2013216\n\n Gods, Greek, 10, 302\n\n Godlessness, 194\n\n Gods, popular. _See_ Theology, popular.\n\n Golden Age, 151\n\n Golden mean, 166\u2013167, 180\n\n Good and evil, 135, 137, 153, 168, 170, 172, 214\u2013215, 320\n\n \u201cGood life,\u201d 156, 172, 191, 202, 319, 323\n\n Good Samaritan, 37\n\n Gospels, 37, 44, 206, 325\n\n Government, 231, 275\u2013276, 278\u2013279\n\n Grace, meaning of, 58;\n religion of, 12\n\n Greek Church, 51\n\n\n Hammurabi, code of, 136\n\n Happiness, pursuit of, 4, 153, 166, 198, 328\u2013329\n\n Heaven, Christian, 146\n\n Hedonism, 301\u2013302, 304, 319\n\n Hegesias, 302\n\n Hellenism, 322\n\n Hemingway, Ernest, 303\n\n Hera, 148\n\n _Heretics_, 56\n\n Heroism, 156\n\n Hertz, 240\n\n Heterodoxy, 12, 62\n\n Hierarchies, 92, 263, 265, 268\n\n Higher Criticism, 40\n\n \u201cHigher sense,\u201d 11\n\n High religion, 193, 203\u2013204, 207, 208, 230, 239;\n function of, 193;\n insight of, 207\u2013208, 209, 230, 239, 251\n\n Hildebrand, 58\n\n Historians, philosophic, 232\n\n Historical scholarship, 157\n\n History, 143, 157\n\n Hobbes, 266\n\n Holy Land, 149\n\n Holy See, 73, 74\n\n Homer, 10, 43\n\n Hooker, Richard, 266\n\n Hoover, 273\u2013274\n\n Hope and fear, 321, 330\n\n Hosea, 12\n\n Human development, 177, 234\n\n Humanism, 137\u2013139, 143\u2013144, 164, 166, 167, 172, 175, 196, 221\n\n Humanity, religion of, 18 [p343]\n\n Human nature, 157, 161, 164, 165, 169, 171\u2013172, 173, 175\u2013176,\n 183\u2013184, 207, 227, 306, 327\n\n Huss, 73\n\n Huxley, Aldous, 303\n\n Huxley, Thomas Henry, 6\n\n\n Iconoclasm, 17, 96, 315\n\n Iconoclasts, 15, 302\n\n Idealism, debacle of, 17\n\n Ideals, foundation of, 133, 224, 323;\n succession of, 111\n\n Ideas, crystallization of, 20\n\n Idols, smashing of, 15, 16\n\n Illusions, 8, 189, 232\n\n Immortality, 11, 41\u201343, 45, 122, 180, 188\n\n Impersonal, worship of the, 44\n\n Impulses, 165\u2013166, 168, 169, 192, 222, 224, 227, 306\n\n Industry, ideals of, 258\u2013259;\n modern, 248, 251, 255\u2013256, 260, 273\u2013274, 288\n\n Inertia, human, 208, 227\n\n Infallibility, 81\n\n Infantilism, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 181, 182, 184, 185, 189\u2013190, 191\n\n Inferno, 146\n\n Inge, Dean, 28, 29\u201330, 42, 44, 46, 196, 313, 314\n\n Inquiry, disinterested, 132;\n freedom of, 126\n\n Inquisition, 123\u2013124, 161\n\n Inspiration, 13, 46\n\n Intelligence, 186;\n machinery of, 64\n\n Interests, diversification of, 267\u2013268, 269\u2013270, 274, 328\n\n Internal life, 152, 195, 196\n\n Invention of invention, 235\n\n Inventions, mechanical, 234\u2013235\n\n Irreligion, modern, 12, 53\u201354\n\n Isaiah, 12\n\n Italy, 251\u2013253, 272\n\n\n James I, 79\n\n James, William, 18, 24\u201326\n\n Jefferson, 15\n\n Jehovah, 12, 214, 288;\n _See also_ Yahveh.\n\n Jerome, St., 161\n\n Jesus, 12, 46, 99, 119, 155, 193, 199, 200;\n _See also_ Christ.\n\n Jews, 52\n\n Joad, C. E. M., 296, 297, 315\u2013316\n\n Job, 213\u2013216\n\n Job, Book of, 214, 216\n\n John, Gospel of. _See_ Fourth Gospel.\n\n John, St., 99\n\n Joyce, James, 303\n\n Judaism, 12\n\n Judgment, private, 15, 34\n\n\n Kant, Immanuel, 136\u2013137\n\n Keats, 320\n\n Kelvin, Lord, 129\n\n Keynes, Maynard, 245, 258\n\n Knowledge, limitations of, 202\n\n Knowlton, 290\n\n Knox, 73\n\n Krutch, Joseph Wood, 302\u2013303, 304\n\n Ku Klux Klan, 31\n\n\n Labor, organized, 244\n\n _Laissez-faire_, 242, 244, 250, 252\n\n Lake, Kirsopp, 27\u201329\n\n Lamarckism, 125\n\n \u201cLand of heart\u2019s desire,\u201d 151\u2013152\n\n Last Judgment, 99\n\n Law enforcement, 277\u2013278\n\n Law, international, 265\u2013266\n\n Lawrence, D. H., 303\n\n Leadership, mass, 274\u2013275\n\n Legislation, modern, 275\u2013276, 279\n\n Lent, 1492, 38\n\n Leviticus, 37\n\n Lewis, Sinclair, 16\n\n Liberalism, 6, 152\n\n Liberals, Protestant, 34;\n religious, 21, 33\n\n Liberty, natural, 243, 244\u2013246, 258\n\n Life, art of, 175, 326\u2013327;\n medi\u00e6val view of, 154, 323;\n wisdom of, 156, 330\n\n Lindbergh, Col. Charles A., 222\u2013223 [p344]\n\n Lindsey, Judge, 298, 307\n\n Locke, 266\n\n Love, art of, 293, 295, 301, 303, 305, 308\u2013309;\n value of, 302\u2013304, 306, 310\n\n Lowell Lectures, 25\n\n Loyalty, 261\u2013263, 268\u2013269, 272, 325\n\n Lucretius, 218\n\n Luther, 13, 14\u201315, 39, 53\u201354, 73\u201374, 79, 196\n\n Lutheran Church, 13\n\n Lutherans, 77\n\n\n Machen, Prof. J. Gresham, 32, 33\u201334\n\n Machine process, 246, 253\u2013254, 274\n\n Machine technology, 242\u2013243, 247, 251, 252, 254, 257, 258\u2013259, 274,\n 284, 316\n\n M\u00e2le, 100, 101\n\n Malthus, 289\n\n Manich\u00e6ans, 52\n\n Man, nature of, 152, 243\n\n Manner of life, 235\n\n Markets, 246\u2013247\n\n Marriage, 89, 286, 288, 289, 291, 309, 310\u2013311, 312;\n companionate, 298, 307\n\n Marxianism, 16\n\n Mary, St. _See_ Virgin Mary.\n\n Masses, 148\u2013149, 278\n\n Matriarchal societies, 91\n\n Maturity, 174\u2013175, 176\u2013177, 179\u2013180, 183\u2013184, 185, 186, 189, 190,\n 191\u2013192, 204, 209, 225, 230, 237, 239, 313, 323, 325, 327,\n 328\u2013329\n\n Maxwell, 240\n\n Mazzini, 18\n\n Meaning of things, 183\n\n Mechanism, 125, 128, 130\u2013131\n\n Medical progress, 218\n\n Melanchthon, 79\n\n Mencken, H. L., 13, 16\n\n Mendel\u2019s law, 231\n\n Messianic Kingdom, 11\n\n Methodism, 6;\n American, 158\n\n Mexico, 253, 265\n\n Middle Ages, 70\u201372, 73, 94, 129, 131, 161, 265, 266\n\n Mill, James, 289\n\n Milton, 74, 266\n\n Minority, recalcitrant, 279\n\n Miracles, 118, 119\u2013120\n\n Mississippi flood, 273\u2013274\n\n Modernism, 18, 32, 33, 59, 77, 117, 217\n\n Modernists, 27, 28, 29, 31, 32, 35, 42, 51\n\n Modernity, 5, 8, 14, 15, 19, 56, 68, 96, 105, 110, 112, 143, 158,\n 196\u2013197, 208, 229, 251, 284, 316, 318, 320, 321\n\n Modern man, 4, 8\u201310, 12, 19, 21, 24, 40, 41, 51, 54, 57, 59, 94, 111,\n 112, 113, 114, 152, 153, 158, 161, 194, 203, 227\u2013228, 315, 316\n\n Modern men. _See_ Modern man.\n\n _Modern Movement in Art, The_, 104\n\n Modern spirit, 36, 110, 143\n\n Modern state, 260, 262\u2013263, 267, 272\u2013273, 275, 279, 311\n\n Modern world, 14, 19, 20, 268\u2013269, 270, 300, 311, 322\u2013324\n\n Mohammed, 145\n\n Mohammedanism, 199\n\n Monasticism, 204\u2013206\n\n Montaigne, 48, 175, 196\n\n Moral certainty, 9\u201310, 15, 115\n\n Moral codes, 3, 49, 135, 167, 170, 171, 201, 208\u2013209, 226, 228, 272,\n 317, 319\n\n Moral confusion, 155, 228, 230\n\n Moral effect, 179\u2013180\n\n Moral effort, 175\n\n Moral guidance, 14, 205\n\n Moral insight, 227\u2013228, 229\n\n Moralists, 164, 165, 166, 167, 170, 172, 173, 208\u2013209, 225, 244, 300,\n 314\u2013315, 316\u2013319, 320\u2013321, 323\n\n Morality, 114\u2013115, 117, 136, 137\u2013139, 145;\n divine, 49\u201350;\n sanctions of, 78, 166, 176, 228;\n theistic, 138;\n _See also_ Morals.\n\n Moral law, 46, 48, 191, 233 [p345]\n\n Moral philosophies, 156\n\n Moral problem, 134, 166, 168, 192, 229, 312, 317\n\n Morals, 17, 112, 151, 157, 192, 208, 210, 227\u2013228, 229, 241, 322;\n _See also_ Morality.\n\n Moral values, 106\n\n Morris, William, 5, 244\n\n Mortality, 188, 191\n\n Mosaic law, 136\n\n Moses, 49\n\n Moving pictures, 6\n\n Music, 182\n\n Musset, Alfred de, 163\n\n Mystics, 147, 196\n\n\n Nain, 119\n\n Naples, 236\n\n Nationalism, 63\u201364, 232\n\n Natural goodness, 163\n\n Natural man, 19, 162, 163, 241\n\n Natural selection, 18, 150\n\n Nature and science, 241\n\n Nature, laws of, 117, 122, 125, 150, 165, 195;\n religion of, 18\n\n Necessity, experience of, 187\n\n Need to believe, 125, 203\n\n Neo-Malthusianism, 289\u2013290\n\n Neo-Platonism, Christian, 28\n\n Neo-Platonists, modern, 11\n\n New Jerusalem, 115, 116\n\n Newspapers, popular, 6, 64\u201365\n\n New York, 66, 271, 273\n\n Nic\u00e6a, Second Council of, 98, 100, 101\n\n Nietzsche, 7, 157\n\n Nietzscheanism, 16\n\n Nineteenth Century, 5, 16, 18, 174, 288, 309\n\n Nirvana, 145, 165, 199\n\n Noah\u2019s Ark, 38\n\n Noguchi, 223\n\n Non-sectarianism, 77\u201378\n\n Novels, autobiographical, 113\n\n\n Objectivity, 132\n\n Obregon, Gen., 264\n\n Old Testament, 55, 214\n\n Onan, 288\n\n Order, ancestral, 68, 153, 207, 208, 228, 267, 314, 322;\n cosmic, 8, 195, 202, 216;\n industrial, 242\n\n Origen, 11, 28, 29, 37, 39, 196\n\n Original sin, 198\n\n \u201cOrthodox,\u201d 57, 122\n\n Orthodoxy, 10, 11, 12, 19\u201320, 32, 35, 194, 216\n\n \u201cOverbeliefs,\u201d 24\n\n\n Pach, Walter, 95\n\n Pagans, 52\n\n Painting, religious, 94\u201396, 97\u201398\n\n Pantagruelists, 162\n\n Pantheism, 117\u2013118\n\n Paradise, 128, 145, 146\n\n _Paradise Lost_, 116\n\n Parenthood, 292\u2013294, 301, 305\n\n Paris, 111, 223\n\n Passions, harmony of, 198, 206, 208\n\n _Pater_, 149\n\n Pater, Walter, 106\u2013107\n\n Patriotism, 18, 78, 82\n\n Paul, St., 12\u201313, 50, 52, 58, 90, 99, 155, 161\n\n Peace of mind, 7\u20138\n\n Peirce, Charles S., 129\n\n Periclean Age, 11, 232\n\n Personality, persistence of, 42\n\n Peter, St., 72, 74, 99, 146\n\n Petrarch, 5\n\n _Ph\u00e6do_, 159\n\n Pharisees, 12, 317, 319\n\n Philistines, 104\n\n Philosophers, Greek, 10, 159, 233, 235\u2013236\n\n Philosophy, 324;\n industrial, 243, 260;\n modern, 157, 158;\n political, 260\n\n Physicists, 102, 124, 129\n\n Physics, 143, 157, 174, 241\n\n _Pilgrim\u2019s Progress, The_, 200\n\n Place, Francis, 289\n\n Plato, 10, 48, 156, 159, 161, 200, 289\n\n Platonic tradition, 28\n\n Platonism, 43\n\n Platonists, 42\u201343, 196\n\n Pleasure and pain, 177, 179, 302 [p346]\n\n Plot, John, 149\n\n Plotinus, 155\n\n Political conduct, 264\u2013265, 284\n\n Political machine, 264\n\n Politician, the, 279\u2013282\n\n Pope, the, 13, 15, 72, 79, 81, 85, 265, 270\u2013271\n\n Pope Innocent IV, 85\n\n Pope Paul V, 81\n\n Pope Pius IX, 75\n\n Population, growth of, 289\u2013291\n\n Post-Darwinians, 18\n\n Pragmatism, 119\n\n Prayer, 146\u2013149\n\n Pre-machine age, 253\n\n Presbyterians, 79\n\n Priesthood, 73\n\n Primitive peoples, 159\n\n Procreation, 166\n\n Progress, religion of, 18\n\n Prohibition, 31, 277\n\n Propaganda, 281\n\n Prophet, artist as, 101\u2013102, 103, 104\n\n Prophets, 12\n\n Protestantism, 15, 30, 32, 34, 52, 77, 86\n\n Protestants, 34\u201335\n\n Pseudo-religions, 125\n\n Psychiatry, 158, 159\n\n Psychoanalysis, 6, 125, 174, 177, 179, 220\n\n Psychology, 143, 171, 172, 173, 174, 220;\n abnormal, 171;\n folk, 171;\n popular, 114;\n scientific, 173, 176\n\n Public interest, 257\u2013258\n\n Public opinion, 167\n\n Public schools, 76\u201377\n\n Public utilities, regulation of, 254\u2013255\n\n Purgatory, 146\n\n Puritanism, 154, 302\n\n Purpose, cosmic, 9\n\n Pythagoras, 204\u2013205\n\n\n Rabelais, 161, 162\u2013163\n\n Randall, Dr., 127\u2013128\n\n Rationalists, 24\u201325\n\n Rationalization, 39\n\n Reality, 177, 179, 180, 193, 216, 272, 312, 319\n\n Reason and faith, 51, 121\n\n Rebellion, 16\u201317, 19, 190\n\n Rebels, 15\u201318, 19\n\n Reconstruction, essays in, 14\n\n Redemption, 11, 115\n\n Reformation, 13, 72\u201373, 94, 154\n\n Reformers, Eighteenth-Century, 15;\n Protestant, 34, 39, 40, 73, 96\n\n Relative motion, 124\n\n Religion, 8, 10, 17, 18\u201319, 23, 112, 123, 131, 284, 324;\n aristocracy in, 197, 200, 202, 203;\n need of, 123;\n of the spirit, 44, 46, 196\u2013197, 203, 205\u2013206, 327\u2013328;\n popular, 14, 32\u201333, 47, 50, 69, 91, 94, 127, 131\u2013132, 143, 145,\n 176, 194, 195\u2013196, 201, 202, 208, 216, 227, 232, 244, 325 (_See\n also_ Theology, popular);\n traditional, 122, 124, 203\n\n Religious experience, 33, 90\u201391, 125, 325\u2013326\n\n Religious synthesis, 111, 124\n\n Religious thought, 96\n\n Religious wars, 74\n\n Religious writing, 97\n\n Renaissance, 94\u201395, 161;\n High, 154\n\n Renan, 7\n\n Renunciation, 45, 156, 157, 191, 192, 206\n\n _Republic_, 159\u2013160\n\n Revelation, 124, 126, 127, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 143, 318, 326;\n logic of, 121;\n sense of, 13\n\n Revivals, 14\n\n Revolution, French, 289;\n industrial, 210, 248;\n mechanical, 19, 234, 236, 241, 248, 289;\n Russian, 250\u2013251;\n spiritual, 133\u2013134\n\n Rewards and punishments, 201, 202, 213\n\n Riggs, Father, 34\n\n Righteousness, sense of, 16\n\n Right of revolution, 82\n\n Right to believe, 25\n\n Rights of men, 242, 267\n\n Roland, 71 [p347]\n\n Roman Catholic Church. _See_ Catholic Church.\n\n Roman Empire, 58, 205\n\n Romantics, 18, 26, 154\n\n Rome, 149, 236\n\n Rousseau, 154, 266\n\n Royal Society of London, 236\n\n Ruskin, 244\n\n Russell, Bertrand, 27, 114, 157, 238, 298\u2013299, 308\n\n Russell, Dora, 163\n\n Russia, 250\u2013253, 272, 273\n\n\n Sages, teaching of, 198, 200, 210, 239\n\n Saintliness, 156\n\n Salvation, 75, 88, 147, 195\u2013197, 198, 201, 313\n\n Santayana, George, 19, 35, 36, 43, 68, 145, 148, 182, 310, 311\n\n Sargent, John, 95\n\n Savonarola, 37\n\n Schoolmen, 127, 129\n\n Science, 10, 18, 19, 112, 120, 123, 153, 176, 205;\n and religion, 123\u2013124, 132\u2013133;\n concepts in, 102\u2013103, 107, 122;\n Greek, 210;\n logic of, 121;\n medi\u00e6val, 128;\n method of, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 157, 239;\n modern, 127, 128, 236\u2013237, 239, 316;\n popular, 127;\n pure, 237\u2013238, 239\n\n _Science and the Modern World_, 123\n\n Scientific discipline, 239\u2013240, 241\n\n Scientific explanation, 130, 131\n\n Scientific hypotheses, 125, 126\u2013127\n\n Scientific inquiry, 35, 123, 236\n\n Scientific materialism, 131\n\n Scientific method. _See_ Science, method of.\n\n Scientific research, 236\u2013237, 238\n\n Scientific spirit, 240, 327\n\n Scientific theory, 133, 209\n\n Scribes, 12\n\n Scriptures. _See_ Bible.\n\n Self-discipline, 45, 196\u2013197, 198\n\n Serenity, 7\u20138\n\n Sex, 284\u2013285, 288, 299\u2013300, 306, 308;\n and religion, 89\u201390\n\n Sexual conventions, 299\u2013300, 301, 307\u2013308\n\n Sexual ideal, 93\u201394, 293, 301, 305\u2013306, 307\n\n Sexuality, 150, 165\u2013166, 303\u2013304\n\n Sexual relations, 231, 284\u2013287, 288\u2013289, 291\u2013292, 295\u2013296, 297, 299,\n 308, 312\n\n Shaw, George Bernard, 18, 48, 156\n\n Shelley, 5\u20136, 102\n\n Simeon Stylites, St., 158\n\n Sinai, 136, 227\n\n Smith, Adam, 242, 243, 245\n\n \u201cSocial compact,\u201d 266\u2013267\n\n Socialism, 249\u2013250, 258\n\n Socialists, 249, 250, 252\n\n Social system, American, 65\u201367, 273\u2013274\n\n Society, 19, 190, 206, 207, 241, 250, 266, 276, 284, 322;\n opinion of, 134\n\n Socrates, 10, 11, 155, 159, 160, 161, 219, 220\n\n Song of Solomon, 38\n\n Sophists, 219, 220\n\n Sophisticated violence, 64\n\n Soul, 114, 196\n\n Sovereignty, conception of, 265, 267\n\n Space, sense of, 180\n\n Species, propagation of, 150\n\n Speculation, philosophic, 233\n\n Spengler, 62, 232\n\n Spinoza, 155, 156, 161, 192, 193, 194, 197, 216, 219, 220, 266\n\n Spirituality, 154, 197, 204, 329\u2013330\n\n Sta\u00ebl, Madame de, 162\n\n Statesman, the, 279\u2013283\n\n Steele, Richard, 86\n\n Stimuli, 182\n\n Stoddard, Lothrop, 64\n\n Suffering, irrational, 213\n\n _Summa_, 100\n\n Supernatural kingdom, 143, 325\u2013326\n\n Superstition, 218\n\n Survival of the fittest, 150\n\n Syllabus of Pope Pius IX, 314\n\n Symbolism, 34, 45, 68, 100, 325 [p348]\n\n\n Tabu, 160\n\n Tamar, 288\n\n Tariff, 276\u2013277\n\n Ten Commandments, 78\n\n Tennessee, 77\n\n Theism, 136, 137\n\n Theocracy, 194, 195, 197, 203, 227, 228\n\n Theodorus of Cyrene, 301\u2013302\n\n Theology, Catholic, 51, 119;\n popular, 10\u201311, 23 (_see also_ Religion, popular)\n\n Thirteenth Century, 11\n\n Thomas \u00e0 Kempis, 113\n\n Thomson, James, 5\n\n Thought, contemporary, 194;\n scientific, 125, 235\n\n Time, sense of, 181\n\n Toleration, 74\u201377, 123\n\n Totemism, 160\n\n Towns, rise of, 19, 232\n\n _Tradesman\u2019s Calling, The_, 86\n\n Traditions, religious, 61\u201362, 96, 97\n\n Transubstantiation, 58\n\n Trent, Council of, 14, 100\u2013101\n\n Trinity, 70\n\n _True Law of Free Monarchy_, 79\n\n \u201cTruth, the,\u201d 129\n\n\n _Unam sanctam_, 81\n\n Unbelief, 3\u201320, 28, 228, 229, 326\n\n Understanding, 181\u2013183, 191, 206, 321, 329\n\n Uneasiness, modern, 14\n\n United States, 253\u2013254, 272, 274, 276, 277\u2013278\n\n Universe, 8, 128, 129, 145\n\n Usury, 84, 85, 86, 87\n\n Utopia, 151\n\n\n Valerian, 98\u201399\n\n Values, transvaluation of, 16, 181\n\n Versailles, Court of, 95\n\n Vicegerent of God, 72\n\n Victoria, Queen, 155, 302\n\n View of life, traditional, 109\n\n Villers, 162\n\n Virgin Mary, 96, 99, 115, 149\n\n Virtue, 166, 192, 221\u2013225, 226\u2013227, 228\u2013229, 320, 329;\n conception of, 226, 318, 319, 324\n\n Voltaire, 16, 197\n\n\n Wallas, Graham, 240\n\n Walter Reed Hospital, 223\n\n Walwayn, Thomas, 149\n\n War, abolition of, 232\n\n Watt, James, 234, 236\n\n _Wealth of Nations_, 242\n\n Wells, H. G., 233\u2013234\n\n West, Lady Alice, 148\u2013149\n\n Whitehead, Alfred North, 25\u201327, 123\u2013124, 195, 236, 325\n\n Wilenski, R. H., 104, 111\n\n Will, human, 195\n\n Will of God, 10, 195\n\n Will to believe, 25, 53\n\n Wisdom, 185\u2013186, 198\u2013199, 201, 226\u2013228, 229, 244, 320, 324\n\n Woman, economic independence of, 93\n\n Women, chastity of, 286\u2013288, 291\n\n Wordsworth, 5, 18, 180\n\n World, character of, 186\n\n World\u2019s Christian Fundamentalist Association, 30, 31\n\n World War, 17, 253, 272\u2013273\n\n Wyclif, 37, 73\n\n Wynne, Father, 146\n\n\n Yahveh, 55, 214.\n _See also_ Jehovah.","title":"A preface to morals","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":96520}