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diff --git a/12508-0.txt b/12508-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..516a8b7 --- /dev/null +++ b/12508-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7404 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12508 *** + +THE MEANING OF GOOD--A DIALOGUE + +BY G. LOWES DICKINSON + +Fellow of King's College, Cambridge, +and Author of a Modern Symposium + +THIRD EDITION + +1900 + + + + + + + +DEDICATION + + How do the waves along the level shore + Follow and fly in hurrying sheets of foam, + For ever doing what they did before, + For ever climbing what is never clomb! + Is there an end to their perpetual haste, + Their iterated round of low and high, + Or is it one monotony of waste + Under the vision of the vacant sky? + And thou, who on the ocean of thy days + Dost like a swimmer patiently contend, + And though thou steerest with a shoreward gaze + Misdoubtest of a harbour or an end, + What would the threat, or what the promise be, + Could I but read the riddle of the sea! + + + + +PREFACE + +An attempt at Philosophic Dialogue may seem to demand a word of +explanation, if not of apology. For, it may be said, the Dialogue is +a literary form not only exceedingly difficult to handle, but, in its +application to philosophy, discredited by a long series of failures. I +am not indifferent to this warning; yet I cannot but think that I have +chosen the form best suited to my purpose. For, in the first place, +the problems I have undertaken to discuss have an interest not only +philosophic but practical; and I was ambitious to treat them in a +way which might perhaps appeal to some readers who are not professed +students of philosophy. And, secondly, my subject is one which belongs +to the sphere of right opinion and perception, rather than to that of +logic and demonstration; and seems therefore to be properly approached +in the tentative spirit favoured by the Dialogue form. On such topics +most men, I think, will feel that it is in conversation that they get +their best lights; and Dialogue is merely an attempt to reproduce in +literary form this natural genesis of opinion. Lastly, my own attitude +in approaching the issues with which I have dealt was, I found, so +little dogmatic, so sincerely speculative, that I should have felt +myself hampered by the form of a treatise. I was more desirous to +set forth various points of view than finally to repudiate or endorse +them; and though I have taken occasion to suggest certain opinions of +my own, I have endeavoured to do so in the way which should be least +imprisoning to my own thought, and least provocative of the reader's +antagonism. It has been my object, to borrow a phrase of Renan, 'de +présenter des séries d'idées se développant selon un ordre logique, et +non d'inculquer une opinion ou de prêcher un systême déterminé.' And +I may add, with him, 'Moins que jamais je me sens l'audace de parler +doctrinalernent en pareille matière.' + +In conclusion, there is one defect which is, I think, inherent in the +Dialogue form, even if it were treated with far greater skill than any +to which I can pretend. The connection of the various phases of the +discussion can hardly be as clearly marked as it would be in a formal +treatise; and in the midst of digressions and interruptions, such +as are natural in conversation, the main thread of the reasoning may +sometimes be lost I have therefore appended a brief summary of the +argument, set forth in its logical connections. + + + + +ARGUMENT + +BOOK I. + + +I. After a brief introduction, the discussion starts with a +consideration of the diversity of men's ideas about Good, a diversity +which suggests _primâ facie_ a scepticism as to the truth of any of +these ideas. + +The sceptical position is stated; and, in answer, an attempt is made +to show that the position is one which is not really accepted by +thinking men. For such men, it is maintained, regulate their lives by +their ideas about Good, and thus by implication admit their belief in +these ideas. + +This is admitted; but the further objection is made, that for the +regulation of life it is only necessary for a man to admit a Good for +himself, without admitting also a General Good or Good of all. It is +suggested, in reply, that the conduct of thinking men commonly does +imply a belief in a General Good. + +Against this it is urged that the belief implied is not in a Good +of all, but merely in the mutual compatibility of the Goods of +individuals; so that each whilst pursuing exclusively his own Good, +may also believe that he is contributing to that of others. In reply, +it is suggested (1) that such a belief is not borne out by fact; +(2) that the belief does itself admit a Good common to all, namely, +society and its institutions. + +In conclusion, it is urged that to disbelieve in a General Good is to +empty life of what constitutes, for most thinking men, its main value. + +II. The position has now been taken up (1) that men who reflect do, +whatever may be their theoretical opinion, imply, in their actual +conduct, a belief in their ideas about Good, (2) but that there seems +to be no certainty that such ideas are true. This latter proposition +is distasteful to some of the party, who endeavour to maintain that +there really is no uncertainty as to what is good. + +Thus it is argued: + +(1) That the criterion of Good is a simple infallible instinct. To +which it is replied that there appear to be many such 'instincts' +conflicting among themselves. + +(2) That the criterion of Good is the course of Nature; Good being +defined as the end to which Nature is tending. To which it is replied +that such a judgment is as _a priori_ and unbased as any other, and as +much open to dispute. + +It is then urged that if we reject the proposed criterion, we can have +no scientific basis for Ethics; which leads to a brief discussion of +the nature of Science, and the applicability of its methods to Ethics. + +(3) That the criterion of Good is current convention. To which it +is replied, that conventions are always changing, and that the moral +reformer is precisely the man who disputes those which are current. +Especially, it is urged that our own conventions are, in fact, +vigorously challenged, e.g. by Nietzsche. + +(4) That the criterion of Good is Pleasure, or the "greatest happiness +of the greatest number." To which it is replied: + +(a) That this view is not, as is commonly urged, in accordance with +'common sense.' + +(b) That either Pleasure must be taken in the simplest and narrowest +sense; in which case it is palpably inadequate as a criterion of +Good; or its meaning must be so widely extended that the term Pleasure +becomes as indefinite as the term Good. + +(c) That if the criterion of Pleasure were to be fairly applied, it +would lead to results that would shock those who profess to adopt it. + +III. These methods of determining Good having been set aside, it is +suggested that it is only by 'interrogating experience' that we can +discover, tentatively, what things are good. + +To this it is objected, that perhaps all our ideas derived from +experience are false, and that the only method of determining Good +would be metaphysical, and _a priori_. In reply, the bare possibility +of such a method is admitted; but it is urged that no one really +believes that all our opinions derived from experience are false, +and that such a belief, if held, would deprive life of all ethical +significance and worth. + +Finally, it is suggested that the position in which we do actually +find ourselves, is that of men who have a real, though imperfect +perception of a real Good, and who are endeavouring, by practice, to +perfect that perception. In this respect an analogy is drawn between +our perception of Good and our perception of Beauty. + +It is further suggested that the end of life is not merely a knowledge +but an experience of Good; this end being conceived as one to be +realised in Time. + +IV. On this, the point is raised, whether it is not necessary to +conceive Good as eternally existing, rather than as something to be +brought into existence in the course of Time? On this view, Evil must +be conceived as mere 'appearance.' + +In reply, it is suggested: + +(1) That it is impossible to reconcile the conception of eternal Good +with the obvious fact of temporal Evil. + +(2) That such a view reduces to an absurdity all action directed to +ends in Time. And yet it seems that such action not only is but ought +to be pursued, as appears to be admitted even by those who hold that +Good exists eternally, since they make it an end of action that they +should come to see that everything is good. + +(3) That this latter conception of the end of action--namely, that we +should bring ourselves to see that what appears to be Evil is really +Good--is too flagrantly opposed to common sense to be seriously +accepted. + +To sum up: + +In this Book the following positions have been discussed and rejected: + +(1) That our ideas about Good have no relation to any real fact. + +(2) That we have easy and simple criteria of Good--such as (a) +an infallible instinct, (b) the course of Nature, (c) current +conventions, (d) pleasure. + +(3) That all Reality is good, and all Evil is mere 'appearance.' + +And it has been suggested that our experience is, or may be made, a +progressive discovery of Good. + +In the following Book the question of the content of Good is +approached. + + * * * * * + + + + +BOOK II. + + +This Book comprises an attempt to examine some kinds of Good, to point +out their defects and limitations, and to suggest the character of +a Good which we might hold to be perfect--here referred to as '_The_ +Good.' + +The attitude adopted is tentative, for it is based on the position, at +which we are supposed to have arrived, that the experience of any one +person, or set of persons, about Good is limited and imperfect, and +that therefore in any attempt to describe what it is that we hold +to be good, to compare Goods among one another, and to suggest +an absolute Good, we can only hope, at best, to arrive at some +approximation to truth. + +I. This attitude is explained at the outset, and certain preliminary +points are then discussed. These are: + +(1) Can any Good be an end for us unless it is conceived to be an +object of consciousness? The negative answer is suggested. + +(2) In pursuing Good, for whom do we pursue it? It is suggested that +the Good we pursue is + +(a) That of future generations. Some difficulties in this view are +brought out; and it is hinted that what we really pursue is the Good +of 'the Whole,' though it is not easy to see what we mean by that. + +(b) That of 'the species.' But this view too is seen to be involved +in difficulty. + +II. The difficulty is left unsolved, and the conversation passes on +to an examination of some of our activities from the point of view +of Good. In this examination a double object is kept in view: (1) to +bring out the characteristics and defects of each kind of Good; (2) to +suggest a Good which might be conceived to be free from defects, such +a Good being referred to as '_The_ Good.' + +(1) It is first suggested that _all_ activities are good, if pursued +in the proper order and proportion; and that what seems bad in each, +viewed in isolation, is seen to be good in a general survey of them +all. This view, it is argued, is too extravagant to be tenable. + +(2) It is suggested that Good consists in ethical activity. To this it +is objected that ethical actions are always means to an end, and that +it is this end that must be conceived to be really good. + +(3) The activity of the senses in their direct contact with physical +objects is discussed. This is admitted to be a kind of Good; but +such Good, it is maintained, is defective, not only because it is +precarious, but because it depends upon objects of which it is not the +essence to produce that Good, but which, on the contrary, just as much +and as often produce Evil. + +(4) This leads to a discussion of Art. In Art, it seems, we are +brought into relation with objects of which it may be said: + +(a) That they have, by their essence, that Good which is called +Beauty. + +(b) That, in a certain sense, they may be said to be eternal. + +(c) That, though complex, they are such that their parts are +necessarily connected, in the sense that each is essential to the +total Beauty. + +On the other hand, the Good of Art suffers from the defects: + +(a) That outside and independent of Art there is the 'real world,' +so that this Good is only a partial one. + +(b) That Art is a creation of man, whereas we seem to demand, for +a thing that shall be perfectly good, that it shall be so of its own +nature, without our intervention. + +(5) It is suggested that perhaps we may find the Good we seek in +knowledge. This raises the difficulty that various views are held as +to the nature of knowledge. Of these, two are discussed: + +(a) the view that knowledge is 'the description and summing up in +brief formulæ, of the routine of our perceptions.' It is questioned +whether there is really much Good in such an activity. And it is +argued that, whatever Good it may have, it cannot be _the_ Good, +seeing that knowledge may be, and frequently is, knowledge of Bad. + +(b) the view that knowledge consists in the perception of 'necessary +connections,' Viewed from the standpoint of Good, this seems to be +open to the same objection as (a). But, further, it is argued that +the perpetual contemplation of necessary relations among ideas does +not satisfy our conception of the Good; but that we require an +element analogous somehow to that of sense, though not, like sense, +unintelligible and obscure. + +(6) Finally, it is suggested that in our relation to other persons, +where the relation takes the form of love, we may perhaps find +something that comes nearer than any other of our experiences to being +absolutely good. For in that relation, it is urged, we are in contact + +(a) with objects, not 'mere ideas.' + +(b) with objects that are good in themselves and + +(c) intelligible and + +(d) harmonious to our own nature. + +It is objected that love, so conceived, is + +(a) rarely, perhaps never, experienced. + +(b) in any case, is neither eternal nor universal. + +This is admitted; but it is maintained that the best love we know +comes nearer than anything else to what we might conceive to be +absolutely good. + +III. The question is now raised: if 'the Good' be so conceived, is it +not clearly unattainable? The answer to this question seems to depend +on whether or not we believe in personal immortality. The following +points are therefore discussed: + +(a) Whether personal immortality is conceivable? + +(b) Whether a belief in it is essential to a reasonable pursuit of +Good? + +On these points no dogmatic solution is offered; and the Dialogue +closes with the description of a dream. + + + + +BOOK I. + + +Every summer, for several years past, it has been my custom to arrange +in some pleasant place, either in England or on the continent, a +gathering of old college friends. In this way I have been enabled +not only to maintain some happy intimacies, but (what to a man of +my occupation is not unimportant) to refresh and extend, by an +interchange of ideas with men of various callings, an experience of +life which might be otherwise unduly monotonous and confined. Last +year, in particular, our meeting was rendered to me especially +agreeable by the presence of a very dear friend, Philip Audubon, whom, +since his business lay in the East, I had not had an opportunity of +seeing for many years. I mention him particularly, because, although, +as will be seen, he did not take much part in the discussion I am +about to describe, he was, in a sense, the originator of it. For, in +the first place, it was he who had invited us to the place in which we +were staying,--an upland valley in Switzerland, where he had taken a +house; and, further, it was through my renewed intercourse with him +that I was led into the train of thought which issued in the following +conversation. His life in the East, a life laborious and monotonous +in the extreme, had confirmed in him a melancholy to which he was +constitutionally inclined, and which appeared to be rather heightened +than diminished by exceptional success in a difficult career. I +hesitate to describe his attitude as pessimistic, for the word has +associations with the schools from which he was singularly free. His +melancholy was not the artificial product of a philosophic system; it +was temperamental rather than intellectual, and might be described, +perhaps, as an intuition rather than a judgment of the worthlessness +and irrationality of the world. Such a position is not readily shaken +by argument, nor did I make any direct attempt to assail it; but it +could not fail to impress itself strongly upon my mind, and to keep +my thoughts constantly employed upon that old problem of the worth +of things, in which, indeed, for other reasons, I was already +sufficiently interested. + +A further impulse in the same direction was given by the arrival of +another old friend, Arthur Ellis. He and I had been drawn together +at college by a common interest in philosophy; but in later years our +paths had diverged widely. Fortune and inclination had led him into +an active career, and for some years he had been travelling abroad +as correspondent to one of the daily papers. I felt, therefore, some +curiosity to renew my acquaintance with him, and to ascertain how far +his views had been modified by his experience of the world. + +The morning after his arrival he joined Audubon and myself in a kind +of loggia at the back of the house, which was our common place of +rendezvous. We exchanged the usual greetings, and for some minutes +nothing more was said, so pleasant was it to sit silent in the shade +listening to the swish of scythes (they were cutting the grass in +the meadow opposite) and to the bubbling of a little fountain in the +garden on our right, while the sun grew hotter every minute on the +fir-covered slopes beyond. I wanted to talk, and yet I was unwilling +to begin; but presently Ellis turned to me and said: "Well, my dear +philosopher, and how goes the world with you? What have you been doing +in all these years since we met?" + +"Oh," I replied, "nothing worth talking about." + +"What have you been thinking then?" + +"Just now I have been thinking how well you look. Knocking about the +world seems to suit you." + +"I think it does. And yet at this moment, whether it be the quiet of +the place, or whether it be the sight of your philosophic countenance, +I feel a kind of yearning for the contemplative life. I believe if +I stayed here long you would lure me back to philosophy; and yet I +thought I had finally escaped when I broke away from you before." + +"It is not so easy," I said, "to escape from that net, once one is +caught. But it was not I who spread the snare; I was only trying to +help you out, or, at least, to get out myself." + +"And have you found a way?" + +"No, I cannot say that I have. That's why I want to talk to you and +hear how you have fared." + +"I? Oh, I have given the whole subject up." + +"You can hardly give up the subject till you give up life. You may +have given up reading books about it; and, for that matter, so have I. +But that is only because I want to grapple with it more closely." + +"What do you do, then, if you do not read books?" + +"I talk to as many people as I can, and especially to those who have +had no special education in philosophy; and try to find out to what +conclusions they have been led by their own direct experience." + +"Conclusions about what?" + +"About many things. But in particular about the point we used to be +fondest of discussing in the days before you had, as you say, given +up the subject--I mean the whole question of the values we attach, or +ought to attach, to things." + +"Oh!" he said, "well, as to all that, my opinion is the same as of +old. 'There's nothing good or bad but thinking makes it so,' So I used +to say at college and so I say now." + +"I remember," I replied, "that that is what you always used to say; +but I thought I had refuted you over and over again." + +"So you may have done, as far as logic can refute; but every bit of +experience which I have had since last we met has confirmed me in my +original view." + +"That," I said, "is very interesting, and is just what I want to hear +about. What is it that experience has done for you? For, as you +know, I have so little of my own, I try to get all I can out of other +people's." + +"Well," he said, "the effect of mine has been to bring home to me, +in a way I could never realize before, the extraordinary diversity of +men's ideals." + +"That, you find, is the effect of travel?" + +"I think so. Travelling really does open the eyes. For instance, until +I went to the East I never really felt the antagonism between the +Oriental view of life and our own. Now, it seems to me clear that +either they are mad or we are; and upon my word, I don't know which. +Of course, when one is here, one supposes it is they. But when one +gets among them and really talks to them, when one realizes how +profound and intelligent is their contempt for our civilization, +how worthless they hold our aims and activities, how illusory our +progress, how futile our intelligence, one begins to wonder whether, +after all, it is not merely by an effect of habit that one judges them +to be wrong and ourselves right, and whether there is anything at +all except blind prejudice in any opinions and ideas about Right and +Wrong." + +"In fact," interposed Audubon, "you agree, like me, with Sir Richard +Burton: + +"'There is no good, there is no bad, these be the whims of mortal will; +What works me weal that call I good, what harms and hurts I hold as ill. +They change with space, they shift with race, and in the veriest span of + time, +Each vice has worn a virtue's crown, all good been banned as sin or + crime.'" + +"Yes," he assented, "and that is what is brought home to one by +travel. Though really, if one had penetration enough, it would not be +necessary to travel to make the discovery. A single country, a single +city, almost a single village, would illustrate, to one who can look +below the surface, the same truth. Under the professed uniformity of +beliefs, even here in England, what discrepancies and incongruities +are concealed! Every type, every individual almost, is distinguished +from every other in precisely this point of the judgments he makes +about Good. What does the soldier and adventurer think of the life of +a studious recluse? or the city man of that of the artist? and vice +versa? Behind the mask of good manners we all of us go about judging +and condemning one another root and branch. We are in no real +agreement as to the worth either of men or things. It is an illusion +of the 'canting moralist' (to use Stevenson's phrase) that there is +any fixed and final standard of Good. Good is just what any one thinks +it to be; and one man has as much right to his opinion as another." + +"But," I objected, "it surely does not follow that because there are +different opinions about Good, they are all equally valuable." + +"No. I should infer rather that they are all equally worthless." + +"That does not seem to me legitimate either; and I venture to doubt +whether you really believe it yourself." + +"Well, at any rate I am inclined to think I do." + +"In a sense perhaps you do; but not in the sense which seems to me +most important. I mean that when it comes to the point, you act, and +are practically bound to act, upon your opinion about what is good, as +though you did believe it to be true." + +"How do you mean 'practically bound?'" + +"I mean that it is only by so acting that you are able to introduce +any order or system into your life, or in fact to give it to yourself +any meaning at all. Without the belief that what you hold to be good +really somehow is so, your life, I think, would resolve itself into +mere chaos." + +"I don't see that" + +"Well, I may be wrong, but my notion is that what systematizes a life +is choice; and choice, I believe, means choice of what we hold to be +good." + +"Surely not! Surely we may choose what we hold to be bad." + +"I doubt it" + +"But how then do you account for what you call bad men?" + +"I should say they are men who choose what I think bad but they think +good." + +"But are there not men who deliberately choose what they think bad, +like Milton's Satan--'Evil be thou my Good'?" + +"Yes, but by the very terms of the expression he was choosing what he +thought good; only he thought that evil was good." + +"But that is a contradiction." + +"Yes, it is the contradiction in which he was involved, and in which I +believe everyone is involved who chooses, as you say, the Bad. To them +it is not only bad, it is somehow also good." + +"Does that apply to Nero, for example?" + +"Yes, I think it very well might; the things which he chose, power and +wealth and the pleasures of the senses, he chose because he thought +them good; if his choice also involved what he thought bad, such as +murder and rapine and the like (if he did think these bad, which I +doubt), then there was a contradiction not so much in his choice as in +its consequences. But even if I were to admit that he and others have +chosen and do choose what they believe to be bad, it would not affect +the point I want to make. For to choose Bad must be, in your view, as +absurd as to choose Good; since, I suppose, you do not believe, that +our opinions about the one have any more validity than our opinions +about the other. So that if we are to abandon Good as a principle of +choice, it is idle to say we may fall back upon Bad." + +"No, I don't say that we may; nor do I see that we must We do not +need either the one or the other. You must have noticed--I am sure I +have--that men do not in practice choose with any direct reference to +Good or Bad; they choose what they think will bring them pleasure, or +fame, or power, or, it may be, barely a livelihood." + +"But believing, surely, that these things are good?" + +"Not necessarily; not thinking at all about it, perhaps." + +"Perhaps not thinking about it as we are now; but still, so far +believing that what they have chosen Is good, that if you were to go +to them and suggest that, after all, it is bad they would be seriously +angry and distressed." + +"But, probably," interposed Audubon, "like me, they could not help +themselves. We are none of us free, in the way you seem to imagine. We +have to choose the best we can, and often it is bad enough." + +"No doubt," I replied, "but still, as you say yourself, what we choose +is the best we can, that is, the most good we can. The criterion is +Good, only it is very little of it that we are able to realize." + +"No," objected Ellis, "I am not prepared to admit that the criterion +is Good. You will find that men will frankly confess that other +pursuits or occupations are, in their opinion, better than those +they have chosen, and that these better things were and are open to +themselves, and yet they continue to devote themselves to the worse, +knowing it all the time to be the worse." + +"But in most cases," I replied, "these better things, surely, are not +really 'open' to them, except so far as external circumstances are +concerned. They are hampered in their choice by passions and desires, +by that part of them which does not choose, but is passively carried +away by alien attractions; and the course they actually adopt is the +best they can choose, though they see a better which they would choose +if they could. The choice is always of Good, but it may be diverted by +passion to less Good." + +"I don't know," he said, "that that is a fair account of the matter." + +"Nor do I. It is so hard to analyse what goes on in one's own +consciousness, much more what goes on in other people's. Still, that +is the kind of way I should describe my own experience, and I should +expect that most people who reflect would agree with me. They would +say, I think, that they always choose the best they can, though +regretting that they cannot choose better than they do; and it would +seem to them, I think, absurd to suggest that they choose Bad, or +choose without any reference either to Good or Bad." + +"Well," he said, "granting, for the moment, that you are right--what +follows?" + +"Why, then," I said, "it follows that we are, as I said, 'practically +bound' to accept as valid, for the moment at least, our opinions about +what is good; for otherwise we should have no principle to choose by, +if it be true that the principle of choice is Good." + +"Very well," he said, "then we should have to do without choosing!" + +"But could we?" + +"I don't see why not; many people do." + +"But what sort of people? I mean what sort of life would it be?" + +Ellis was preparing to answer when we were interrupted by a voice from +behind. The place in which we were sitting opened at the back into one +of those large lofty barns which commonly form part of a Swiss house; +and as the floor of this room was covered with straw, it was possible +to approach that way without making much noise. For this reason, two +others of our party had been able to join us without our observing it. +Their names were Parry and Leslie; the former a man of thirty, just +getting into practice at the Bar, the latter still almost a boy in +years, though a very precocious one, whom I had brought with me, +ostensibly as a pupil, but really as a companion. He was an eager +student of philosophy, and had something of that contempt of youth for +any one older than twenty-five, which I can never find it in my heart +to resent, though have long passed the age which qualifies me to +become the object of it. He it was who was speaking, in a passionate +way he had, when anything like a philosophic discussion was +proceeding. + +"Why," he was saying, in answer to my last remark, "without choice one +would be a mere slave of passion, a creature of every random mood and +impulse, a beast, a thing, not a man at all!" + +Ellis looked round rather amused. + +"Well," he said, "you fire-eater, and why not? I don't know that +impulse is such a bad thing. A good impulse is better than a bad +calculation any day!" + +"Yes, but you deny the validity of the distinction between Good and +Bad, so it's absurd for you to talk about a good impulse." + +"What _is_ your position, Ellis?" asked Parry. "I've been trying in +vain to make head or tail of it" + +"Why should I take a position at all?" rejoined Ellis "I protest +against this bullying." + +"But you _must_ take a position," cried Leslie, "if we are to +discuss." + +"I don't see why; you might take one instead." + +"Yes, but you began." + +"Well," he conceded, "anything to oblige you. My position, then, to +go back again to the beginning, is this. Seeing that there are so many +different opinions about what things are good, and that no criterion +has been discovered for testing these opinions----" + +"My dear Ellis," interrupted Parry, "I protest against all that from +the very beginning. For all practical purposes there is a substantial +agreement about what is good." + +"My dear Parry," retorted Ellis, "if I am to state a position, let +me state it without interruption. Considering, as I was saying, that +there are so many different opinions about what things are good, and +that no criterion has been discovered for testing them, I hold that we +have no reason to attach any validity to these opinions, or to suppose +that it is possible to have any true opinions on the subject at all." + +"And what do you say to that?" asked Parry, turning to me. + +"I said, or rather I suggested, for the whole matter is very difficult +to me, that in spite of the divergency of opinions on the point, and +the difficulty of bringing them into harmony, we are nevertheless +practically bound, whether we can justify it to our reason or not, +to believe that our own opinions about what is good have somehow some +validity." + +"But how 'practically bound'?" asked Leslie. + +"Why, as I was trying to get Ellis to admit when you interrupted--and +your interruption really completed my argument--I imagine it to be +impossible for us not to make choices; and in making choices, as I +think, we use our ideas about Good as a principle of choice." + +"But you must remember," said Ellis, "that I have never admitted the +truth of that last statement." + +"But," I said, "if you do not admit it generally--and generally, I +confess, I do not see how it could be proved or disproved, except by +an appeal to every individual's experience--do you not admit it in +your own case? Do you not find that, in choosing, you follow your idea +of what is good, so far as you can under the limitations of your own +passions and of external circumstances?" + +"Well," he replied, "I wish to be candid, and I am ready to admit that +I do." + +"And that you cannot conceive yourself as choosing otherwise? I mean +that if you had to abandon as a principle of choice your opinion about +Good, you would have nothing else to fall back upon?" + +"No; I think in that case I should simply cease to choose." + +"And can you conceive yourself doing that? Can you conceive yourself +living, as perhaps many men do, at random and haphazard, from moment +to moment, following blindly any impulse that may happen to turn +up, without any principle by which you might subordinate one to the +other?" + +"No," he said, "I don't think I can." + +"That, then," I said, "is what I meant, when I suggested that you, at +any rate, and I, and other people like us, are practically bound to +believe that our opinions about what is good have some validity, even +though we cannot say what or how much." + +"You say, then, that we have to accept in practice what we deny in +theory?" + +"Yes, if you like. I say, at least, that the consequence of the +attempt to bring our theoretical denial to bear upon our practice +would be to reduce our life to a moral chaos, by denying the only +principle of choice which we find ourselves actually able to accept. +In your case and mine, as it seems, it is our opinion about Good that +engenders order among our passions and desires; and without it we +should sink back to be mere creatures of blind impulse, such as +perhaps in fact, many men really are." + +"What!" cried Audubon, interrupting in a tone of half indignant +protest, "do you mean to say that it is some idea about Good that +brings order into a man's life? All I can say is that, for my part, +I never once think, from one year's end to another, of anything so +abstract and remote. I simply go on, day after day, plodding the +appointed round, without reflexion, without reason, simply because I +have to. There's order in my life, heaven knows! but it has nothing to +do with ideas about Good. And altogether," he ejaculated, in a kind of +passion, "it's a preposterous thing to tell me that I believe in +Good, merely because I lead a life like a mill-horse! That would be an +admirable reason for believing in Bad--but Good!" + +He lapsed again into silence; and I was half unwilling to press him +further, knowing that he felt our dialectics to be a kind of insult to +his concrete woes. However, it seemed to be necessary for the sake of +the argument to give some answer, so I began:-- + +"But if you don't like the life of a mill-horse, why do you lead it?" + +"Why? because I have to!" he replied; "you don't suppose I would do it +if I could help it?" + +"No," I said, "but why can't you help it?" + +"Because," he said, "I have to earn my living." + +"Then is it a good thing to earn your living?" + +"No, but it's a necessary thing." + +"Necessary, why?" + +"Because one must live." + +"Then it is a good thing to live?" + +"No, it's a very bad one." + +"Why do you live, then?" + +"Because I can't help it." + +"But it is always possible to stop living." + +"No, it isn't" + +"But why not?" + +"Because there are other people dependent on me, and I don't choose to +be such a mean skunk as to run away myself and leave other people here +to suffer. Besides, it's a sort of point of honour. As I'm here, I'm +going to play the game. All I say is that the game is not worth the +playing; and you will never persuade me into the belief that it Is." + +"But, my dear Philip," I said, "there is no need for me to persuade +you, for it is clear that you are persuaded already. You believe, as +you have really admitted in principle, that it is good to live rather +than to die; and to live, moreover, a monotonous, laborious life, +which you say you detest Take away that belief, and your whole being +is transformed. Either you change your manner of life, abandon the +routine which you hate, break up the order imposed (as I said at +first) by your idea about Good, and give yourself up to the chaos of +chance desires; or you depart from life altogether, on the hypothesis +that that is the good thing to do. But in any case the truth appears +to remain that somehow or other you do believe in Good; and that it is +this belief which determines the whole course of your life." + +"Well," he said, "it's no use arguing the point, but I am +unconvinced." And he sank back to his customary silence. I thought +it useless to pursue the subject with him; but Ellis took up the +argument. + +"I agree with Audubon," he said. "For even if I admitted your general +contention, I should still maintain that it is not by virtue of any +conscious idea of Good that we introduce order into our lives. We +simply find ourselves, as a matter of fact, by nature and character, +preferring one object to another, suppressing or developing this or +that tendency. Our choices are not determined by our abstract notion +of Good; on the contrary, our notion of Good is deduced from our +choices." + +"You mean, I suppose, that we collect from our particular choices our +general idea of the kind of things which we consider good. That may +be. But the point I insist upon is that we do attach validity to +these choices; they are, to us, our choices of our Good, those that we +approve as distinguished from those that we do not. And my contention +is that, in spite of all diversity of opinions as to what really are +the good things to choose, we are bound to attach, each of us, some +validity to our own, under penalty of reducing our life to a moral +chaos." + +"But what do you mean by 'validity'?" asked Leslie. "Do you mean that +we must believe that our opinions are right?" + +"Yes," I said, "or, at least, if not that they are right, that they +are the rightest we can attain to for the time being, and until we see +something righter. But above all, that opinions on this subject really +are either right or wrong, or more right and less right; and that of +this rightness or wrongness we really have some kind of perception, +however difficult it may be to give an account of it, and that in +accordance with such perception we may come to change our opinions or +those of other people, by the methods of discussion and persuasion and +the like. And all this, as I understand, is what Ellis was denying." + +"Certainly," said Ellis, "I was; and I still do not see that you have +proved it." + +"No," I said, "I have not even tried to. I have only tried to show +that in spite of your denial you really do believe it, because a +belief in it is implied in all your practical activity. And that, I +thought, you did admit yourself." + +"But even so," he replied, "it remains to be considered whether my +theory is not more reasonable than my practice." + +"Perhaps," I replied; "but that, I admit, is not the question that +really interests me. What I want to get at is the belief which +underlies the whole life of people like ourselves, and of which, it +seems, we cannot practically divest ourselves. And such a belief, I +think, is this which we have been discussing as to the validity of our +opinions about Good." + +"I see," he said; "in fact you are concerning yourself not with +philosophy but with psychology." + +"If you like; it matters little what you call it. Only, whatever it +be, you will do me a service if for the moment you will place yourself +at my standpoint, and see with me how things look from there." + +"Very well," he said, "I have no objection, and so far, on the whole, +I do agree with you; though I am bound to point out that you might +easily find an opponent less complaisant. Your argument is very much +one _ad hominem_." + +"It is," I said, "and that, I confess, is the only kind of argument in +which I much believe in these matters. I am content, for the present, +if you and the others here go along with me." + +"I do," said Parry, "but you seem to me to be only stating, in an +unnecessarily elaborate way, what after all is a mere matter of common +sense." + +"Perhaps it is," I replied, "though I have always thought myself +rather deficient in that kind of sense. But what does Leslie say?" + +"Oh," he said, "I can't think how you can be content with anything so +lame and impotent! Some method there must be, absolute and _à priori_, +by which we may prove for certain that Good is, and discover, as well, +what things are good." + +"Well," I said, "if there be such a method, you, if anyone, should +find it; and I wish you from my heart good luck in the quest. It is +only in default of anything better that I fall back on this--I dare +not call it method; this appeal to opinion and belief." + +"And even so," said Ellis, "it is little enough that you have shown, +or rather, that I have chosen to admit. For even if it were granted +that individuals, in order to choose, must believe in Good, it doesn't +follow that they believe in anything except each a Good for himself. +So that, even on your own hypothesis, all we could say would be that +there are a number of different and perhaps incompatible Goods, each +good for some particular individual, but none necessarily good for +all. I, at least, admit no more than that." + +"How do you mean?" I asked, "for I am getting lost again." + +"I mean," he replied, "something that I should have thought was +familiar enough. Granted that there really is a Good which each +individual ought to choose, and does choose, if you like, as far as +he can see it; or granted, at least, that he is bound to believe this, +under penalty of reducing his life to moral chaos; still, I see no +reason to suppose that the thing which one individual ought to choose +is identical, or even compatible, with that which another ought to +choose. There may be a whole series of distinct and mutually exclusive +moral worlds. In other words, even though I may admit a Good for each, +I am not prepared to admit a Good for all." + +"But then," I objected, "each of these Goods will also be a not-Good; +and that seems to be a contradiction." + +"Not at all," he replied, "for each of them only professes to be Good +for me, and that is quite compatible with being Bad for another." + +"But," cried Leslie, trembling with excitement, "your whole conception +is absurd. Good is simply Good; it is not Good for anybody or +anything; it is Good in its own nature, one, simple, immutable +eternal." + +"It may be," replied Ellis, "but I hope you will not actually tear me +to pieces if I humbly confess that I cannot see it. I see no reason to +admit any such Good; it even has no meaning to me." + +"Well, anyhow, nothing else can have any meaning!" + +"But, to me, something else has a meaning." + +"Well, what?" + +"Why, what I have been trying, apparently without success, to +explain." + +"But don't you see that each of those things you call Goods, oughtn't +to be called Good at all, but each of them by some other particular +name of its own?" + +"Oh, I don't want to quarrel about names; but I call each of them +Good because from one point of view--that of some particular +individual--each of them is something that ought to be. I, at any +rate, admit no more than that. For each individual there is something +that ought to be; but this, which ought to be for him, is very likely +something that ought not to be for somebody else." + +On this Leslie threw himself back with a gesture of disgust and +despair; and I took the opportunity of intervening. + +"Let us have some concrete instances," I said, "of these incompatible +Goods." + +"By all means," he replied, "nothing can be simpler. It is good, say, +for Nero, to preserve supreme power; but it is bad for the people who +come in his way. It is good for an American millionaire to make and +increase his fortune; but it is bad for the people he ruins in the +process. And so on, _ad infinitum_; one has only to look at the +world to see that the Goods of individuals are not only diverse but +incompatible one with another." + +"Of course," I said, "it is true that people do hold things to be good +which are in this way mutually incompatible. But does not the fact +of this incompatibility make one suspect that perhaps the things in +question are not really good?" + +"It may, in some cases, but I see no ground for the suspicion. It +may very well be that what is good for me is in the nature of things +incompatible with what is good for you." + +"I don't say it may not be so; but does one believe it to be so? +Doesn't one believe that what is really good for one must somehow be +compatible with what is really good for others?" + +"Some people may believe it, but many don't; and it can never be +proved." + +"No; and so I am driven back upon my argument _ad hominem_. Do not +you, as a matter of fact, believe it?" + +"No, I don't know that I do." + +"Do you believe then that there is nothing which is good for people in +general?" + +"I don't see what is to prevent my believing it." + +"But, at any rate you do not act as if you believed it." + +"In what way do I not?" + +"Why, for instance, you said last night that you intended to enter +Parliament." + +"Well?" + +"And in a few weeks you will be making speeches all over the country +in favour of--well, I don't quite know what--shall we say in favour of +the war?" + +"Say so, by all means, if you like." + +"And this war, I presume, you believe to be a good thing?" + +"Well?" + +"Good, that is, not merely for yourself but for the world at large? or +at least for the English or the Boers, or one or other of them? Do you +admit that?" + +"Oh," he said, "I am nothing if not frank! At present, we will admit, +I think the war a good thing (whatever that may mean); but what of +that? Very probably I am wrong." + +"Very probably you are; but that is not the point. The main thing is, +that you admit that it is possible to be wrong or right at all; that +there is something to be wrong or right about." + +"But I don't know that I do admit it, or, at any rate, that I shall +always admit it. Probably, after changing my opinions again and again, +I shall come to the conclusion that none of them are worth anything at +all; that, in fact, there's nothing to have an opinion about; and then +I shall retire from politics altogether; and then--then how will you +get hold of me?" + +"Oh," I replied, "easily enough! For you will still continue, I +suppose, to do some kind of work, and work which will necessarily +affect innumerable people besides yourself; and you will believe, I +presume, that somehow or other the work you do is contributing to some +general Good?" + +"'You presume'! you do indeed presume! Suppose I believe nothing of +the kind? Suppose I deny altogether a general Good?" + +"We will suppose it, if you like," I said. "And now let us go on to +examine the consequences of the supposition." + +"By all means!" he said, "proceed!" + +"Well," I began, "since you are still living in society, (for that, I +suppose, you allow me to assume,) you are, by the nature of the case, +interchanging with others innumerable offices. At the same time, on +the supposition we are adopting, that you deny a general Good, your +only object in this interchange will be your own Good, (in which you +admit that you do believe.) If, for example, you are a doctor, +your aim, at the highest, is to develop yourself, to increase your +knowledge, your skill, your self-control; at the lowest, it is to +accumulate a fortune; but in neither case can your purpose be to +alleviate or cure disease, nor to contribute to the advance of +science; for that would be to suppose that these ends, although they +purport to be general, nevertheless are somehow good, which is the +hypothesis we were excluding. Similarly, if you are a lawyer, you will +not set your heart on doing justice, or perfecting the law; such ends +as these for you are mere illusions; for even if justice exist at all, +it certainly is not a Good, for if it were, it would be a Good for +all, and, as we agree, there is no such thing. Men like Bentham, +therefore, to you will be mere visionaries, and the legal system as a +whole will have no sense or purport, except so far as it contributes +to sharpen your wits and fill your pocket And so, in general, with all +professions and occupations; whichever you may adopt, you will treat +it merely as a means to your own Good; and since you have no Good +which is also common to other men, you will use these others without +scruple to further what you conceive to be your own advantage, without +necessarily paying any regard to what they may conceive to be theirs." + +"Well," he said, "and why not?" + +"I don't ask 'why not'?" I replied, "I ask merely whether it would be +so? whether you do, as a matter of fact, conceive it possible that you +should ever adopt such an attitude?" + +"Well, no," he admitted, "I don't think it is; but that is an +idiosyncrasy of mine; and I have no doubt there are plenty of other +men who are precisely in the position you describe. Take, for example, +a man like the late Jay Gould. Do you suppose that he, in his business +operations, ever had any regard for anything except his own personal +advantage? Do you suppose he cared how many people he ruined? Do you +suppose he cared even whether he ruined his country, except so far as +such ruin might interfere with his own profit? Or look again at the +famous Mr. Leiter of Chicago! What do you suppose it mattered to +him that he might be starving half the world, and imperilling the +governments of Europe? It was enough for him that he should realize a +fortune; of all the rest, I suppose, he washed his hands. He and men +like him adopt, I have no doubt, precisely the position which you are +trying to show is impossible." + +"No," I said, "I am not trying to show that it is impossible in +general; I am only trying to show that it is impossible for you. And +my object is to suggest that if a man does deny a general Good, he +denies it, as I say, at his peril. If his denial is genuine, and +not merely verbal, it will lead him to conduct of the kind I have +described." + +"But surely," interrupted Leslie, "you have no right to assume that a +disbelief in a general Good, however genuine, necessarily involves +a sheer egoism in conduct? For a man might find that his own Good +consisted in furthering the Good of other people; and in that case of +course he will try to further it." + +"But," I replied, "on our hypothesis there is no Good of other people. +Each individual, we agreed, has his Good, but there is no Good common +to all. And thus we could have no guarantee that in furthering the +Good of one we are also furthering that of others. So that even +supposing a man to believe that his own Good consists in furthering +the Good of others, yet he will not be able to put his belief into +practice, but at most will be able to help some one man, with the +likelihood that in so doing he is thwarting and injuring many others. +Though, therefore, he may not wish to be an egoist, yet he cannot work +for a common Good; and that simply because there is no common Good to +work for." + +At this point Parry, who had been sitting silent during the +discussion, probably because of its somewhat abstract character, +suddenly broke in upon it as follows. He had a great fund of optimism +and what is sometimes called common sense, which to me was rather +pleasant and refreshing, though some of the others, and especially +Leslie and Ellis, were apt, I think, to find it irritating. His +present speech was characteristic of his manner. + +"Ah!" he began, "there you touch upon the point which has vitiated +your argument throughout. You seem to assume that because every man +has his own Good, and there is no Good we can affirm to be common +to all, therefore these individual Goods are incompatible one with +another, so that a man who is intent on his own Good is necessarily +hindering, or, at least, not helping, other people who are intent on +theirs. But I believe, and my view is borne out by all experience, +that exactly the opposite is the case. Every man, in pursuing his own +advantage, is also enabling the rest to pursue theirs. The world, if +you like to put it so, is a world of egoists; but a world constructed +with such exquisite art, that the egoism of one is not only compatible +with, but indispensable to that of another. On this principle all +society rests. The producer, seeking his own profit, is bound to +satisfy the consumer; the capitalist cannot exist without supporting +the labourer; the borrower and lender are knit by the closest ties of +mutual advantage; and so with all the ranks and divisions of mankind, +social, political, economic, or what you will. Balanced, one against +the other, in delicate counterpoise, in subtlest interaction of part +with part, they sweep on in one majestic system, an equilibrium for +ever disturbed, yet ever recovering itself anew, created, it is true, +and maintained by countless individual impulses, yet summing up and +reflecting all of these in a single, perfect, all-harmonious whole. +And when we consider----" + +But here he was interrupted by a kind of groan from Audubon; and +Ellis, seeing his opportunity, broke in ironically, as follows: + +"The theme, my dear Parry, is indeed a vast one, and suggests +countless developments. When, for example, we consider (to borrow your +own phrase) the reciprocal relations of the householder and the thief, +of the murderer and his victim, of the investor and the fraudulent +company-promoter; when, turning from these private examples, we cast +our eyes on international relations, when we observe the perfect +accord of interest between all the great powers in the far East; +when we note the smooth harmonious working of that flawless political +machine so aptly named the European Concert, each member pursuing its +own advantage, yet co-operating without friction to a common end; or +when, reverting to the economic sphere, we contemplate the exquisite +adjustment that prevails between the mutual interest of labour and +capital--an adjustment broken only now and again by an occasional +disturbance, just to show that the centre of gravity is changing; +when we observe the World Trust quietly, without a creak or a groan, +annihilating the individual producer; or when, to take the sublime +example which has already been quoted, we perceive a single +individual, in the pursuit of his own Good, positively co-operating +with revolutionists on the other side of the globe, and contributing, +by the process of starvation, to the deliverance of a great and +oppressed people--if indeed, in such a world as ours, anyone can +be said to be oppressed--when, my dear Parry, we contemplate these +things, then--then--words fail me! Finish the sentence as you only +can." + +"Oh," said Parry, good-naturedly enough, "of course I know very well +you can make anything ridiculous if you like. But I still maintain +that we must take broad views of these matters, and that the position +adopted is substantially correct, if you take long enough periods +of time. Every man in the long run by pursuing his own Good does +contribute also to the Good of others." + +"Well," I said, anxious to keep the argument to the main point, +"let us admit for the moment that it is so. You assert, then, that +everyone's Good is distinct from everyone else's, and that there is no +common Good; but that each one's pursuit of his own Good is essential +to the realization of the Good of all the rest" + +"Yes," he said; "roughly, that is the kind of thing I believe." + +"Well, but," I continued, "on that system there is at least one thing +which we shall have to call a common Good." + +"And what is that?" + +"Society itself! For society is the condition indispensable to +all alike for the realization of any individual Good; and a common +condition of Good is, I suppose, in a sense, a common Good." + +"Yes," he replied, "I suppose, in a sense, it is." + +"Well," I said, "I want no larger admission. For under 'society' what +is not included! Sanction society, and you sanction, or at least you +admit the possibility of a sanction for every kind of common activity +and end; and the motives of men in undertaking these common activities +become a matter of comparative indifference. Whatever they are +consciously aiming at, whether it be their own Good, or the Good of +all, or, as is more probable, a varying mixture of both, the fact +remains that they do, and we do, admit a common Good, the maintenance +and development of society itself. And that is all I was concerned to +get you to agree to." + +"But," said Leslie, "do you really think that there is no common Good +except this, which you yourself admit to be rather a condition of Good +than Good itself?" + +"No," I replied, "that is not my view. I do not, myself, regard +society as nothing but a condition of the realization of independent, +individual Goods. On the contrary, I think that the Good of each +individual consists in his relations with other individuals. But this +I do not know that I am in a position to establish. Meantime, however, +we can, I think, maintain, that few candid men, understanding the +issue, will really deny altogether a common Good; for they will have +to admit that in society we have at the very least a common condition +of Good." + +"But still," objected Leslie, "even so we have no proof that there +is a common Good, but only that most civilized men, if pressed, would +probably admit one." + +"Certainly," I replied, "and I pretend nothing more. I have not +attempted to prove that there is a common Good, nor even that it is +impossible not to believe in one. I merely wished to show, as before, +that if a man disbelieves, he disbelieves, so to speak, at his own +peril. And to sum up the argument, what I think we have shown is, that +to deny a common Good is, in the first place, to deny to one's life +and action all worth except what is bound up with one's own Good, to +the complete exclusion of any Good of all. In the second place, it is +to deny all worth to every public and social institution--to religion, +law, government, the family, all activities, in a word, which +contribute to and make up what we call society. Further, it is to +empty history, which is the record of society, of its main interest +and significance, and in particular to eliminate the idea of progress; +for progress, of course, implies a common Good towards which progress +is directed. In brief, it is to strip a man of his whole social self, +and reveal him a poor, naked, shivering Ego, implicated in relations +from which he may derive what advantage he can for himself, but which, +apart from that advantage, have no point or purport or aim; it is to +make him an Egoist even against his will; leaving him for his solitary +ideal a cult of self-development, deprived of its main attraction +by its dissociation from the development of others. Now, if any man, +having a full sense of what is implied in his words (a sense, not +merely conceived by the intellect, but felt, as it were, in every +nerve and tissue) will seriously and deliberately deny that he +believes in a common Good; if he will not merely make the denial with +his lips, but actually carry it out in his daily life, adjusting to +his verbal proposition his habitual actions, feelings, and thoughts; +if he will and can really and genuinely do this, then I, for my part, +am willing to admit that I cannot prove him to be wrong. All I can do +is to set my experience against his, and to appeal to the experience +of others; and we must wait till further experience on either side +leads (if it ever is to lead) to an agreement. But, on the other hand, +if a man merely makes the denial with his lips, because, perhaps, he +conceives it impossible to prove the opposite, or because he sees +that what is good cannot be defined beyond dispute, or whatever other +plausible reason he may have; and if, while he persists in his denial, +he continues to act as if the contrary were true, taking part with +zest and enthusiasm in the common business of life, pushing causes, +supporting institutions, subscribing to societies, and the like, and +that without any pretence that in so doing he is seeking merely his +own Good--in that case I shall take leave to think that he does not +really believe what he says (though no doubt he may genuinely think he +does), and I shall take his life and his habits, the whole tissue of +his instincts and desires, as a truer index to his real opinion than +the propositions he enunciates with his lips." + +"But," cried Leslie, "that is a mere appeal to prejudice! Of course +we all want to believe that there is a common Good; the question is, +whether we have a right to." + +"Perhaps," I replied, "but the question I wished to raise was the more +modest one, whether we can help it? Whether we have a right or no +is another matter, more difficult and more profound than I care to +approach at present. If, indeed, it could be proved beyond dispute to +the reason, either that certain things are good or that they are not, +there would be no place for such discussions as this. But, it appears, +such proof has not yet been given,--or do you think it has?" + +"No!" he said, "but I think it might be and must be!" + +"Possibly," I said, "but meantime, perhaps, it is wiser to fall back +on this kind of reasoning which you call an appeal to prejudice,--and +so no doubt in a sense it is; for it is an appeal to the passion men +have to find worth in their lives, and their refusal to accept any +view by which such worth is denied. To anyone who refuses to accept +any judgment about what is good, I prove, or endeavour to prove, that +such refusal cuts away the whole basis of his life; and I ask him if +he is prepared to accept that consequence. If he affirms that he is, +and affirms it not only with his lips but in his action, then I have +no more to say; but if he cannot accept the consequences, then, I +suppose, he will reconsider the premisses, and admit that he does +really believe that judgments about what is good may be true, and, +provisionally, that his own are true, or at least as true as he can +make them, and that he does in fact accept and act upon them as true, +and intends to do so until he is convinced that they are false. And +this attitude of his feelings, you may call, if you like, an attitude +of faith; it is, I think, the attitude most men would adopt if they +were pressed home upon the subject; and to my mind it is reasonable +enough, and rather to be praised than to be condemned." + +"I don't think so at all," cried Leslie, "I consider it very +unsatisfactory." + +"So do I," said Parry, "and for my part, I can't see what you're all +driving at. You seem to be making a great fuss about nothing." + +"Oh no!" retorted Ellis, "not about nothing! about a really delightful +paradox! We have arrived at the conclusion that we are bound to +believe in Good, but that we haven't the least notion what it is!" + +"Exactly!" said Parry, "and that is just what I dispute!" + +"What? That we are bound to believe in Good?" + +"No! But that we don't know what Good is, or rather, what things are +good." + +"Oh!" I cried, "do you really think we do know? I wish I could think +that! The trouble with me is, that while I seem to see that we are +bound to trust our judgments about what is good, yet I cannot see +that we know that they are true. Indeed, from their very diversity, it +seems as if they could not all be true. My only hope is, that perhaps +they do all contain some truth, although they may contain falsehood as +well." + +"But surely," said Parry, "you exaggerate the difficulty. All the +confusion seems to me to arise from the assumption that we can't see +what lies under our noses. I don't believe, myself, that there is all +this difficulty in discovering Good. Philosophers always assume, +as you seem to be doing, that it is all a matter of opinion and +reasoning, and that opinions and reasons really determine conduct. +Whereas in fact, I believe, conduct is determined, at least in +essentials, by something very much more like instinct. And it is +to this instinct which, by the nature of the case, is simple and +infallible, that we ought to look to tell us what is good, and not +to our reason, which, as you admit yourself, can only land us in +contradictory judgments. I know, of course, that you have a prejudice +against any such view." + +"Not at all!" I said, "if only I could understand it. I should be glad +of any simple and infallible criterion; only I have never yet been +able to find one." + +"That, I believe, is because you look for it in the wrong place; or, +perhaps, because you look for it instead of simply seeing it. You will +never discover what is good by any process of rational inquiry. It's a +matter of direct perception, above and beyond all argument." + +"Perhaps it is," I said, "but surely not of perception, as you said, +simple and infallible?" + +"If not that, at least sufficiently clear and distinct for all +practical purposes. And to my mind, all discussion about Good is for +this reason rather factitious and unreal. I don't mean to say, of +course, that it isn't amusing, among ourselves, to pass an hour or two +in this kind of talk; but I should think it very unfortunate if the +habit of it were to spread among the mass of men. For inquiry does +tend in the long run to influence opinion, and generally to influence +it in the wrong way; whereas, if people simply go on following their +instinct, they are much more likely to do what is right, than if they +try to act on so-called rational grounds." + +"But," cried Leslie, who during this speech had found obvious +difficulty in containing himself, "what is this instinct which you bid +us follow? What authority has it? What validity? What is its content? +What _is_ it, anyhow, that it should be set up in this way above +reason?" + +"As to authority," replied Parry, "the point about an instinct is, +that its authority is unimpeachable. It commands and we obey; there's +no question about it." + +"But there _is_ question about the content of Good." + +"I should rather say that we make question. But, after all, how small +a part of our life is affected by our theories! As a rule, we act +simply and without reflection; and such action is the safest and most +prosperous." + +"The safest and most prosperous! But how do you know that? What +standard are you applying? Where do you get it from?" + +"From common sense." + +"And what is common sense?" + +"Oh, a kind of instinct too!" + +"A kind of instinct? How many are there then? And does every instinct +require another to justify it, and so _ad infinitum_?" + +"Logomachy, my dear Leslie!" cried Parry, with imperturbable +good-humour. He had a habit of treating Leslie as if he were a clever +child. + +"But really, Parry," I interposed, "this is the critical point. Is +it your view that an instinct is its own sufficient justification, or +does it require justification by something else?" + +"No," he said, "it justifies itself. Take, for example, a strong +instinct, like that of self-preservation. How completely it stands +above all criticism! Not that it cannot be criticised in a kind of +dilettante, abstract way; but in the moment of action the criticism +simply disappears in face of the overwhelming fact it challenges." + +"Do you mean to say, then," said Leslie, "that because this instinct +is so strong therefore it is always good to follow it?" + +"I should say so, generally speaking." + +"How is it, then, that you consider it disgraceful that a man should +run away in battle?" + +"Ah!" replied Parry, "that is a very interesting point! There you get +a superposition of the social upon the merely individual instinct." + +"And how does that come about?" + +"That may be a matter of some dispute; but it has been ingeniously +explained as follows. We start with the primary instinct of +self-preservation. This means, at first, that each individual strives +to preserve himself. But as time goes on individuals discover that +they can only preserve themselves by associating with others, and that +they must defend society if they want to defend themselves. They thus +form a habit of defending society; and this habit becomes in time a +second instinct, and an instinct so strong that it even overrides +the primary one from which it was derived; till at last you get +individuals sacrificing in defence of the community those very lives +which they originally entered the community to preserve." + +"What a charming paradox!" cried Ellis. "And so it is really true that +every soldier who dies on the field of battle does so only by virtue +of a miscalculation? And if he could but pull himself up and remember +that, after all, the preservation of his life was the only motive that +induced him to endanger it, he would run away like a sensible man, and +try some other device to achieve his end, the device of society having +evidently broken down, so far as he is concerned." + +"There you are again," said Parry, "with your crude rationalism! The +point is that the social habit has now become an instinct, and has +therefore, as I say, imperative authority! No operations of the reason +touch it in the least" + +"Well," rejoined Ellis, "I must say that it seems to me very hard that +a man can't rectify such an important error. The imposition is simply +monstrous! Here are a number of fellows shut up in society on the +distinct understanding, to begin with, that society was to help them +to preserve their lives; instead of which, it starves them and hangs +them and sends them to be shot in battle, and they aren't allowed +to raise a word of protest or even to perceive what a fraud is being +perpetrated upon them!" + +"I don't see that it's hard at all," replied Parry; "it seems to me +a beautiful device of nature to ensure the predominance of the better +instincts." + +"The better instincts!" I cried, "but there is the point! These +instincts of yours, it seems, conflict; in battle, for example, the +instinct to run away conflicts with the instinct to stay and fight?" + +"No doubt," he admitted. + +"And sometimes one prevails and sometimes the other?" + +"Yes." + +"And in the one case we say that the man does right, when he stays and +fights; and in the other that he does wrong, when he runs away?" + +"I suppose so." + +"Well, then, how does your theory of instincts help us to know what is +Good? For it seems that after all we have to choose between instincts, +to approve one and condemn another. And our problem still remains, how +can we do this? how can we get any certainty of standard?" + +"Perhaps the faculty that judges is itself an instinct?" + +"Perhaps it is," I replied, "I don't really know what an instinct is. +My quarrel is not with the word instinct, but with what seemed to +be your assumption that whatever it is in us that judges about Good +judges in a single, uniform, infallible way. Whereas, in fact, as you +had to admit, sometimes at the same moment it pronounces judgments not +only diverse but contradictory." + +"But," he replied, "those seem to me to be exceptional cases. As +a rule the difficulty doesn't occur. When it does, I admit that we +require a criterion. But I should expect to find it in science rather +than in philosophy." + +"In science!" exclaimed Leslie. "What has science to do with it?" + +"What has _not_ science to do with?" said a new voice from behind. It +was Wilson who, in his turn, had joined us from the breakfast room (he +always breakfasted late), and had overheard the last remark. He was a +lecturer in Biology at Cambridge, rather distinguished in that field, +and an enthusiastic believer in the capacity of the scientific method +to solve all problems. + +"I was saying," Leslie repeated in answer to his question, "that +science has nothing to do with the Good." + +"So much the worse for the Good," rejoined Wilson, "if indeed that be +true." + +"But you, I suppose, would never admit that it is," I interposed. I +was anxious to hear what he had to say, though at the same time I was +desirous to avoid a discussion between him and Leslie, for their types +of mind and habits of thought were so radically opposed that it was +as idle for them to engage in debate as for two bishops of opposite +colour to attempt to capture one another upon a chessboard. He +answered readily enough to my challenge. + +"I think," he said, "that there is only one method of knowledge, and +that is the method we call scientific." + +"But do you think there is any knowledge of Good at all, even by that +method? or that there is nothing but erroneous opinions?" + +"I think," he replied, "that there is a possibility of knowledge, but +only if we abjure dialectics. Here, as everywhere, the only safe guide +is the actual concrete operation of Nature." + +"How do you mean?" asked Leslie, his voice vibrating with latent +hostility. + +"I mean that the real significance of what we call Good is only to +be ascertained by observing the course of Nature; Good being in fact +identical with the condition towards which she tends, and morality the +means to attaining it." + +"But----" Leslie was beginning, when Parry cut him short. + +"Wait a moment!" he said. "Let Wilson have a fair hearing!" + +"This end and this means," continued Wilson, "we can only ascertain +by a study of the facts of animal and human evolution. Biology and +Sociology, throwing light back and forward upon one another, are +rapidly superseding the pseudo-science of Ethics." + +"Oh dear!" cried Ellis, _sotto-voce_, "here comes the social organism! +I knew it would be upon us sooner or later." + +"And though at present, I admit," proceeded Wilson, not hearing, or +ignoring, this interruption, "we are hardly in a position to draw any +certain conclusions, yet to me, at least, it seems pretty clear what +kind of results we shall arrive at." + +"Yes!" cried Parry, eagerly, "and what are they?" + +"Well," replied Wilson, "I will indicate, if you like, the position +I am inclined to take up, though of course it must be regarded as +provisional." + +"Of course! Pray go on!" + +"Well," he proceeded, "biology, as you know, starts with the single +cell----" + +"How do you spell it?" said Ellis, with shameless frivolity, "with a C +or with an S?" + +"Of these cells," continued Wilson, imperturbably, "every animal body +is a compound or aggregation; the aggregation involving a progressive +modification in the structure of each cell, the differentiation of +groups of cells to perform special functions,--digestive, respiratory, +and the rest,--and the subordination of each cell or group of cells to +the whole. Similarly, in sociology----" + +"Dear Wilson," cried Ellis, unable any longer to contain himself, +"mightn't we take all this for granted?" + +"Wait a minute," I said, "let him finish his analogy." + +"That's just it!" cried Leslie, "it's nothing but an analogy. And I +don't see how----" + +"Hush, hush!" said Parry. "Do let him speak!" + +"I was about to say," continued Wilson, "when I was interrupted, that +in the social organism----" + +"Ah!" interjected Ellis, "here it is!" + +"In the social organism, the individual corresponds to the cell, the +various trades and professions to the organs. Society has thus its +alimentary system, in the apparatus of production and exchange; its +circulatory system, in the network of communications; its nervous +system, in the government machinery; its----" + +"By the bye," interrupted Ellis, "could you tell me, for I never could +find it in Herbert Spencer, what exactly in society corresponds to the +spleen?" + +"Or the liver?" added Leslie. + +"Or the vermiform appendix?" Ellis pursued. + +"Oh, well," said Wilson, a little huffed at last, "if you are tired of +being serious it's no use for me to continue." + +"I'm sorry, Wilson!" said Ellis. "I won't do it again; but one does +get a little tired of the social organism." + +"More people talk about it," answered Wilson, "than really understand +it." + +"Very true," retorted Ellis, "especially among biologists." + +At this point I began to fear we should lose our subject in polemics; +so I ventured to recall Wilson to the real issue. + +"Supposing," I said, "that we grant the whole of your position, how +does it help us to judge what is good?" + +"Why," he said, "in this way. What we learn from biology is, that it +is the constant effort of nature to combine cells into individuals +and individuals into societies--the protozoon, in other words, +evolves into the animal, the animal into what some have called the +'hyper-zoon,' or super-organism. Well, now, to this physical evolution +corresponds a psychical one. What kind of consciousness an animal may +have, we can indeed only conjecture; and we cannot even go so far as +conjecture in the case of the cell; but we may reasonably assume +that important psychical changes of the original elements are +accompaniments and conditions of their aggregation into larger +entities; and the morality (if you will permit the word) of the cell +that is incorporated in an animal body will consist in adapting itself +as perfectly as may be to the new conditions, in subordinating its +consciousness to that of the Whole--briefly, in acquiring a social +instead of an individual self. And now, to follow the clue thus +obtained into the higher manifestations of life. As the cell is to the +animal, so is the individual to society, and that on the psychical as +well as on the physical side. Nature has perfected the animal; she +is perfecting society; that is the end and goal of all her striving. +When, therefore, you raise the question, what is Good, biology has +this simple answer to give you: Good is the perfect social soul in the +perfect social body." + +As he concluded, Ellis exclaimed softly,"'_Parturiunt montes_,'" and +Leslie took it up with: "And not even a mouse!" + +"Whether it is a mouse or no," I said, "it would be hard to say, until +we had examined it more closely. At present it seems to me more like +a cloud, which may or may not conceal the goddess Truth. But the +question I really want to ask is, What particular advantage Wilson +gets from the biological method? For the conclusion itself, I suppose, +might have been reached, and commonly is, without any recourse to the +aid of natural science." + +"No doubt," he said, "but my contention is, that it is only by the +scientific method that you get proof. You, for example, may assert +that you believe the social virtues ought to prevail over individual +passions; but if your position were challenged, I don't see how you +would defend it. Whereas I can simply point to the whole evolution of +Nature as tending towards the Good I advocate; and can say:--if you +resist that tendency you are resisting Nature herself!" + +"But isn't it rather odd," said Ellis, "that we should be able to +resist Nature?" + +"Not at all," he replied, "for our very resistance is part of the +plan; it's the lower stage persisting into the higher, but destined +sooner or later to be absorbed." + +"I see," I said, "and the keynote of your position is, as you said at +the beginning, that Good is simply what Nature wants. So that, instead +of looking within to find our criterion, we ought really to look +without, to discover, if we can, the tendency of Nature and to +acquiesce in that as the goal of our aspiration." + +"Precisely," he replied, "that is the position." + +"Well," I said, "it is plausible enough; but the plausibility, I am +inclined to think, comes from the fact that you have been able to make +out, more or less, that the tendency of Nature is in the direction +which, on the whole, we prefer." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Well," I said, "supposing your biological researches had led you to +just the opposite conclusion, that the tendency of Nature was not from +the cell to the animal, and from the individual to society, but in +precisely the reverse direction, so that the end of all things was a +resolution into the primitive elements--do you think you would have +been as ready to assert that it is the goal of Nature that must +determine our ideal of Good?" + +"But why consider such a hypothetical case?" + +"I am not so sure," I replied, "that it is more hypothetical than +the other. At any rate it is a hypothesis adopted by one of your +authorities. Mr. Herbert Spencer, you will remember, conceives +the process of Nature to be one, not, as you appear to think, of +continuous progress, but rather of a circular movement, from the +utmost simplicity to the utmost complexity of Being, and back again to +the original condition. What you were describing is the movement which +we call upward, and which we can readily enough believe to be good, +at any rate upon a superficial view of it. But now, suppose us to have +reached the point at which the opposite movement begins; suppose what +we had to look forward to and to describe as the course of Nature +were a process, not from simple to complex, from homogeneous to +heterogeneous, or whatever the formula may be, but one in exactly the +contrary direction, a dissolution of society into its individuals, +of animals into the cells of which they are composed, of life into +chemistry, of chemistry into mechanism, and so on through the scale of +Being, reversing the whole course of evolution--should we, in such a +case, still have to say that the process of Nature was right, and that +she is to give the law to our judgment about Good?" + +"Yes," he replied, "I think we should; and for this reason. Only those +who do on the whole approve the course of Nature have the qualities +enabling them to survive; the others will, in the long run, be +eliminated. There is thus a constant tendency to harmonize opinions +with the actual process of the world; and that, no doubt, is why we +approve what you call the upward movement, which is the one in which +Nature is at present engaged. But, for the same reason, if, or when, +a movement in the opposite direction should set in, people holding +opinions like ours will tend to be eliminated, while those will tend +to survive more and more who approve the current of evolution then +prevailing." + +"And in this way," said Ellis, "an exquisite unanimity will be at last +attained, by the simple process of eliminating the dissentients!" + +"Precisely!" + +"Well," cried Leslie, "no doubt that will be very satisfactory for the +people who survive; but it does not help us much. What we want to know +is, what _we_ are to judge to be Good, not what somebody else will be +made to judge, centuries hence." + +"And for my part," said Ellis, "I'm not much impressed by the argument +you attribute to Nature, that if we don't agree with her we shall be +knocked on the head. I, for instance, happen to object strongly to +her whole procedure: I don't much believe in the harmony of the final +consummation--even if it were to be final, and not merely the turn of +the tide; and I am sensibly aware of the horrible discomfort of the +intermediate stages, the pushing, kicking, trampling of the host, and +the wounded and dead left behind on the march. Of all this I venture +to disapprove; then comes Nature and says, 'but you ought to approve!' +I ask why, and she says, 'Because the procedure is mine.' I still +demur, and she comes down on me with a threat--'Very good, approve or +no, as you like; but if you don't approve you will be eliminated!' 'By +all means,' I say, and cling to my old opinion with the more affection +that I feel myself invested with something of the glory of a martyr. +Nature, it seems, is waiting for me round the corner because I venture +to stick to my principles. 'Ruat caelum!' I cry; and in my humble +opinion it's Nature, not _I_, that cuts a poor figure!" + +"My dear Ellis," protested Wilson, "what's the use of talking like +that? It's not really sublime, it's only ridiculous!" + +"Certainly!" retorted Ellis; "it's you who are sublime. I prefer the +ridiculous." + +"So," I said, "does Wilson, if one may judge by appearances. For I +cannot help thinking he is really laughing at us." + +"Not at all," he replied, "I am perfectly serious." + +"But surely," I said, "you must see that any discussion about Good +must turn somehow upon our perception of it? The course of Nature may, +as you say, be good; but Nature cannot be the measure of Good; the +measure can only be Good itself; and the most that the study of +Nature could do would be to illuminate our perception by giving it +new material for judgment. Judge we must, in the last resort; and the +judgment can never be a mere statement as to the course which Nature +is pursuing." + +"Well," said Wilson, "but you will admit at least the paramount +importance of the study of Nature, if we are ever to form a right +judgment?" + +"I feel much more strongly," I replied, "the importance of the study +of Man; however, we need not at present discuss that. All that I +wanted to insist upon was, that the contention which you have been +trying to sustain, that it is possible, somehow or other, to get rid +of the subjectivity of our judgments about Good by substituting for +them a statement about the tendencies of Nature--that this contention +cannot be upheld." + +"If that be so," he said, "I don't see how you are ever to get a +scientific basis for your judgment." + +"I don't know," I replied, "that we can. It depends upon what you +include under science." + +"Oh," he said, "by science I mean the resumption in brief formulæ of +the sequence of phenomena; or, more briefly, a description of what +happens." + +"If that be so," I replied, "the method of judging about Good can +certainly not be scientific; for judgments about Good are judgments of +what ought to be, not of what is." + +"But then," objected Wilson, "what method is left you? You have +nothing to fall back upon but a chaos of opinions." + +"But might there not be some way of judging between opinions?" + +"How should there be, in the absence of any external objective test?" + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"Why," he replied, "the kind of test which you have in the case of the +sciences. They depend, in the last resort, not on ideas of ours, +but on the routine of common sense-perception; a routine which is +independent of our choice or will, but is forced upon us from without +with an absolute authority such as no imaginings of our own can +impugn. Thus we get a certainty upon which, by the power of inference, +whose mechanism we need not now discuss, we are able to build up a +knowledge of what is. But when, on the other hand, we turn to such of +our ideas as deal with the Good, the Beautiful, and the like--here +we have no test external to ourselves, no authority superior and +independent. Invite a group of men to witness a scientific experiment, +and none of them will be able to deny either the sequence of the +phenomena produced, or the chain of reasoning (supposing it to be +sound) which leads to the conclusion based upon them. Invite the same +men to judge of a picture, or consult them on a question of moral +casuistry, and they will propound the most opposite opinions; nor will +there be any objective test by which you can affirm that one opinion +is more correct than another. The deliverances of the external sense +are, or at least can be made, by correction of the personal equation, +infallible and the same for all; those of the internal sense are +different not only in different persons, but in the same person at +different times." + +"Yes," said Leslie, impatiently, "we have all admitted that! The +question is whether--" + +"Excuse me," Wilson interposed, "I haven't yet come to my main point. +I was going to say that not merely are there these differences +of opinion, but even if there were not, even if the opinions were +uniform, they would still, as opinions, be subjective and devoid +of scientific validity. It is the external reference that gives its +certainty to science; and such a reference is impossible in the case +of judgments about the Beautiful and the Good. Such judgments are +merely records of what we think or feel. These ideas of ours may or +may not happen to be consistent one with another; but whether they are +so or not, they are merely our ideas, and have nothing to do with the +essential nature of reality." + +"I am not sure," I replied, "that the distinction really holds in the +way in which you put it. Let us take for a moment the point of view +of God--only for the sake of argument," I added, seeing him about to +protest. "God, we will suppose, knows all Being through and through +as it really is; and along with this knowledge of reality he has a +conviction that reality is good. Now, with this conviction of his none +other, _ex hypothesi_, can compete; for he being God, we must at any +rate admit that if anybody can be right, it must be he. No one then +can dispute or shake his opinion; and since he is eternal he will +not change it of himself. Is there then, under the circumstances, any +distinction of validity between his judgment that what is, is, and his +judgment that what is, is good?" + +"I don't see the use," he replied, "of considering such an imaginary +case. But if you press me I can only say that I still adhere to my +view that any judgment about Good, whether made by God or anybody +else, can be no more than a subjective expression of opinion." + +"But," I rejoined, "in a sense, all certainty is subjective, in so far +as the certainty has to be perceived. It is impossible to eliminate +the Subject. In the case, for example, upon which you dwelt, of the +impressions of external sense, the certainty of the impressions is +your and my certainty that we have them; and so in the case of a +cogent argument; for any given person the test of the cogency is his +perception that the cogency is there. And it is the same with +the Beautiful and the Good; there is no conceivable test except +perception. Our difficulty here is simply that perceptions conflict; +not that we have no independent test. But if, as in the case I +imagined, the perception of Good was harmonious with itself, then +the certainty on that point would be as final and complete as the +certainty in the proof of a proposition of Euclid." + +"I am afraid," said Wilson, "I don't follow you. You're beginning to +talk metaphysics." + +"Call it what you will," I replied, "so long only as it is sense." + +"No doubt," he said, "but I don't feel sure that it is." + +"In that case you can show me where I am wrong." + +"No," he replied, "for, as I said, I can't follow you." + +"He means he won't," said Ellis, breaking in with his usual air of +an unprejudiced outsider, "But after all, what does it really matter? +Whatever the reason may be for our uncertainty as to Good, the fact +remains that we are uncertain. There's my Good, thy Good, his Good, +our Good, your Good, their Good; and all these Goods in process of +flux, according to the time of day, the time of life, and the state +of the liver. That being so, what is the use of discussing Good +in itself? And why be so disturbed about it? There's Leslie, for +instance, looking as if the bottom were knocked out of the universe +because he can't discover his objective standard! My dear boy, life +goes on just the same, my life, his life, your life, all the lives. +Why not make an end of the worry at once by admitting frankly that +Good is a chimæra, and that we get on very well without it?" + +"But I don't get on well without it!" Leslie protested. + +"No," I said, "and I hoped that by this time we were agreed that none +of us could. But Ellis is incorrigible." + +"You don't suppose," he replied, "that I am going to agree with you +merely because you override me in argument--even if you did, which you +don't." + +"But at least," cried Leslie, "you needn't tell us so often that you +disagree." + +"Very well," he said, "I am dumb." And for a moment there was silence, +till I began to fear that our argument would collapse; when, to my +relief, Parry returned to the charge. + +"You will think me," he began, "as obstinate as Ellis; but I can't +help coming back to my old point of view. Somehow or other, I feel +sure you are making a difficulty which the practical man does not +really feel. You object to my saying that he knows what is good by +instinct; but somehow or other I am sure that he does know it. And +what I suggest now is, that he finds it written in experience." + +"In whose experience?" Leslie asked defiantly. + +"In that of the race, or, at least, in that of his own age and +country. Now, do be patient a moment, and let me explain! What I want +to suggest is, that every civilization worth the name possesses, in +its laws and institutions, in the customs it blindly follows, the +moral code it instinctively obeys, an actual objective standard, +worked out in minute detail, of what, in every department of life, +really is good. To this standard every plain man, without reasoning, +and even without reflexion, does in fact simply and naturally conform; +so do all of us who are discussing here, in all the common affairs of +our daily life. We know, if I may say so, better than we know; and the +difficulties into which we are driven, in speculations such as +that upon which we are engaged, arise, to my mind, from a false and +unnecessary abstraction--from putting aside all the rich content +of actual life, and calling into the wilderness for the answer to a +question which solves itself in the street and the market-place." + +"Well," I said, "for my own part, I am a good deal in sympathy with +what you say. At the same time there is a difficulty." + +"A difficulty!" cried Leslie, "there are hundreds and thousands!" + +"Perhaps," I replied, "but the particular one to which I was referring +is this. Every civilization, no doubt, has its own standard of Good; +but these standards are different and even opposite; so that it would +seem we require some criterion by which to compare and judge them." + +"No," cried Parry, "that is just what I protest against. We are not +concerned with other ideals than our own. Every great civilization +believes in itself. Take, for instance, the ancient Greeks, of +whom you are so fond of talking. In my opinion they are absurdly +over-estimated; but they had at least that good quality--they believed +in themselves. To them the whole non-Greek world was barbarian; the +standard of Good was frankly their own standard; and it was a standard +knowable and known, however wide might be the deviations from it in +practice. We find accordingly that for them the ideal was rooted in +the real. Plato, even, in constructing his imaginary republic, +does not build in the void, evoking from his own consciousness +a Cloud-Cuckoo-city for the Birds; on the contrary, he bases +his structure upon the actual, following the general plan of the +institutions of Sparta and Crete; and neither to him nor to Aristotle +does it ever occur that there is, or could be, any form of state worth +considering, except the city-state with which they were familiar. It +is the same with their treatment of ethics; their ideal is that of +the Greeks, not of Man in general, and stands in close relation to the +facts of contemporary life. So, too, with their art; it is not, +like that of our modern romanticists, an impotent yearning for +vaguely-imagined millenniums. On the contrary, it is an ideal +interpretation of their own activity, a mirror focussing into feature +and form the very same fact which they saw distorted and blurred in +the troubled stream of time. The Good, in the Greek world, was simply +the essence and soul of the Real; and the Socrates of Xenophon who +frankly identified justice with the laws, was only expressing, and +hardly with exaggeration, the current convictions of his countrymen. +That, to my mind, is the attitude of health; and it is the one natural +to the plain man in every well-organized society. Good is best known +when it is not investigated; and people like ourselves would do no +useful service if we were to induce in others the habit of discussion +which education has made a second nature to ourselves." + +"My dear Parry!" cried Ellis, "you alarm me! Is it possible that we +are all anarchists in disguise?" + +"Parry," I observed, "seems to agree with the view attributed by +Browning to Paracelsus, that thought is disease, and natural health is +ignorance." + +"Well," rejoined Ellis, "there is a good deal to be said for that." + +"There's a good deal to be said for everything," I rejoined. "But +if thought indeed be disease, we must recognise the fact that we are +suffering from it; and so, I fear, is the whole modern world. It was +easy for the Greeks to be 'healthy'; practically they had no past. But +for us the past overweights the present; we cannot, if we would, +get rid of the burden of it. All that was once absolute has become +relative, including our own conceptions and ideals; and as we look +back down the ages and see civilization after civilization come into +being, flourish and decay, it is impossible for us to believe that +the society in which we happen to be born is more ultimate than any +of these, or that its ideal, as reflected in its institutions, has +any more claim than theirs to be regarded as a final and absolute +expression of Good." + +"Well," said Parry, "let us admit, if you like, that ideals evolve, +but, in any case, the ideal of our own time has more validity for +us than any other. As to those of the past, they were, no doubt, +important in their day, but they have no importance for the modern +world. The very fact that they are past is proof that they are also +superseded." + +"What!" cried Leslie, indignantly, "do you mean to say that everything +that is later in time is also better? That we are better artists than +the Greeks? better citizens than the Romans? more spiritual than the +men of the Middle Ages? more vigorous than those of the Renaissance?" + +"I don't know," replied Parry, "that I am bound to maintain all that. +I only say that on the whole I believe that ideals progress; and that +therefore it is the ideals of our own time, and that alone, which we +ought practically to consider." + +"The ideal of our own time?" I said, "but which of them? there are so +many." + +"No, there is really only one, as I said before; the one that is +embodied in current laws and customs." + +"But these are always themselves in process of change." + +"Yes, gradual change." + +"Not necessarily gradual; and even if it were, still change. And to +sanction a change, however slight, may always mean, in the end, the +sanctioning of a whole revolution." + +"Besides," cried Leslie, "even if there were anything finally +established, what right have we to judge that the established is the +Good?" + +"I don't know that we have any right; but I am sure it is what we do." + +"Perhaps we do, many of us," I said, "but always, so far as we +reflect, with a lurking sense that we may be all wrong. Or how else do +you account for the curious, almost physical, sinking and disquiet we +are apt to experience in the presence of a bold denier?" + +"I don't know that I do experience it." + +"Do you not? I do so often; and only yesterday I had a specially vivid +experience of the kind." + +"What was that?" + +"Well, I was reading Nietzsche." + +"Who is he?" + +"A German writer. It does not much matter, but I had him in my mind +when I was speaking." + +"Well, but what does he say?" + +"It's not so much what he says, as what he denies." + +"What does he deny, then?" + +"Everything that you, I suppose, would assert. I should conjecture, +at least, that you believe in progress, democracy, and all the rest of +it." + +"Well?" + +"Well, he repudiates all that. Everything that you would reckon as +progress, he reckons as decadence. Democracy he regards, with all that +it involves, as a revolt of the weak against the strong, of the bad +against the good, of the herd against the master. Every great society, +in his view, is aristocratic, and aristocratic in the sense that the +many are deliberately and consciously sacrificed to the few; and +that, not as a painful necessity, but with a good conscience, in free +obedience to the universal law of the world. 'Be strong, be hard' are +his ultimate ethical principles. The modern virtues, or what we affect +to consider such, sympathy, pity, justice, thrift, unselfishness and +the like, are merely symptoms of moral degeneration. The true and +great and noble man is above all things selfish; and the highest type +of humanity is to be sought in Napoleon or Cæsar Borgia." + +"But that's mere raving!" + +"So you are pleased to say; and so, indeed, it really may be. But +not simply because it contradicts those current notions which we are +embodying, as fast as we can, in our institutions. It is precisely +those notions that it challenges; and it is idle to meet it with a +bare denial." + +"I can conceive no better way of meeting it!" + +"Perhaps, for purposes of battle. Yet, even so, you would surely be +stronger if you had reason for your faith." + +"But I think my reason sufficient--those are not the ideas of the +age." + +"But for all you know they may be those of the next." + +"Well, that will be its concern." + +"But surely, on your own theory, it must also be yours; for you said +that the later was also the better. And the better, I suppose, is what +you want to attain." + +"Well!" + +"Well then, in supporting the ideas and institutions generally +current, you may be hindering instead of helping the realization of +the Good you want to achieve." + +"But I don't believe Nietzsche's ideas ever could represent the Good!" + +"Why not?" + +"Because I don't." + +"But, at any rate, do you abandon the position that we can take the +ideas of our time as a final criterion?" + +"I suppose so--I don't know--I'm sure there's something in it! Do you +believe yourself that they have no import for us?" + +"I didn't say that; but I think we have to find what the import is. +We cannot substitute for our own judgment the mere fact of a current +convention, any more than we can substitute the mere fact of the +tendency of Nature. For, after all, it is the part of a moral reformer +to modify the convention. Or do you not think so?" + +"Perhaps," he admitted, "it may be!" + +"Perhaps it may be!" cried Leslie, "but palpably it is! Is there any +institution or law or opinion you could name which is not open to +obvious criticism? Take what you will--parliamentary government, the +family, the law of real property--is there one of them that could be +adequately and successfully defended?" + +"Certainly!" began Parry, with some indignation. "The family--" + +"Oh," I interrupted, "we are not yet in a position to discuss that! +But upon one thing we seem to be agreed--that whatever may be the +value of current standards of Good in assisting our judgment, we +cannot permit them simply to supersede it by an act of authority. And +so once more we are thrown back each upon his own opinions." + +"To which, according to you," interposed Parry, "we are bound to +attach some validity." + +"And yet which we are aware," added Ellis, "cannot possibly have any." + +I was about to protest against this remark when I saw, coming round +from the garden, Bartlett and Dennis, the two remaining members of our +party. They had just returned from a mountaineering expedition; and +now, having had their bath, had come out to join us in our usual +place of assembly. Bartlett had in his hand the _Times_ and the _Daily +Chronicle_. He was a keen business man, and a Radical politician of +some note; and though not naturally inclined to speculative thought, +would sometimes take part in our discussions if ever they seemed to +touch on any practical issue. On these occasions his remarks were +often very much to the point; but his manner being somewhat aggressive +and polemic, his interposition did not always tend to make smooth +the course of debate. It was therefore with mingled feelings of +satisfaction and anxiety that I greeted his return. After some +talk about their expedition, he turned to me and said, "We ought to +apologise, I suppose, for interrupting a discussion?" + +"Not at all!" I replied; "but, as you are here, perhaps you will be +willing to help us?" + +"Oh," he said, "I leave that to Dennis. This kind of thing isn't much +in my line." + +"What kind of thing?" Leslie interjected. "I don't believe you even +know what we're talking about!" + +"Talking about. Why, philosophy, of course! What else should it be +when you get together?" + +"This time," I said, "it's not exactly philosophy, but something more +like ethics." + +"What is the question?" asked Dennis. + +Dennis was always ready for a discussion, and the more abstract +the theme, the better he was pleased. He had been trained for the +profession of medicine, but coming into possession of a fortune, had +not found it necessary to practise, and had been devoting his time for +some years past to Art and Metaphysics. I always enjoyed talking to +him, though the position he had come to hold was one which I found it +very difficult to understand, and I am not sure that I have been able +to represent it fairly. + +"We have been discussing," I said, in answer to his question, "our +judgments about what is good, and trying without much success to get +over the difficulty, that whereas, on the one hand, we seem to be +practically obliged to trust these judgments, on the other we find it +hard to say which of them, if any, are true, and how far and in what +sense." + +"Oh," he replied, "then Bartlett ought really to be able to help you. +At any rate he's very positive himself about what's good and what's +bad. Curiously enough, he and I have been touching upon the same +point as you, and I find, among other things, that he is a convinced +Utilitarian." + +"I never said so," said Bartlett, "but I have no objection to the +word. It savours of healthy homes and pure beer!" + +"And is that your idea of Good?" asked Leslie, irritated, as I could +see, by this obtrusion of the concrete. + +"Yes," he replied, "why not? It's as good an idea as most." + +"I suppose," I said, "all of us here should agree that the things you +speak of are good. But somebody might very well deny it." + +"Of course somebody can deny anything, if only for the sake of +argument." + +"You mean that no one could be serious in such a denial?" + +"I mean that everybody really knows perfectly well what is good and +what is bad; the difficulty is, not to know it, but to do it!" + +"But surely you will admit that opinions do differ?" + +"They don't differ nearly so much as people pretend, on important +points; or, if they do, the difference is not about what ought to be +done, but about how to do it." + +"What ought to be done, then?" asked Leslie defiantly. + +"Well, for example we ought to make our cities decent and healthy." + +"Why?" + +"Because we ought; or, if you like, because it will make people +happy." + +"But I don't like at all! I don't see that it's necessarily good to +make people happy." + +"Oh well, if you deny that--" + +"Well, if I deny that?" + +"I don't believe you to be serious, that's all. Good simply means, +what makes people happy; and you must know that as well as I do." + +"You see!" interposed Dennis; "I told you he was a Utilitarian." + +"I daresay I am; at any rate, that's what I think; and so, I believe, +does everybody else." + +"'The Universe,'" murmured Ellis, "'so far as sane conjecture can go, +is an immeasurable swine's trough, consisting of solid and liquid, and +of other contrasts and kinds; especially consisting of attainable +and unattainable, the latter in immensely greater quantities for most +pigs.'" + +"That's very unfair," Parry protested, "as an account of Hedonism." + +"I don't see that it is at all," cried Leslie. + +"I think," I said, "that it represents Bentham's position well enough, +though probably not Bartlett's." + +"Oh well," said Parry, "Bentham was only an egoistic Hedonist." + +"A what?" said Bartlett. + +"An egoistic Hedonist." + +"And what may that be?" + +"An egoistic Hedonist," Parry was beginning, but Ellis cut him short. +"It's best explained," he said, "by an example. Here, for example, +is Bentham's definition of the pleasures of friendship; they are, he +says, 'those which accompany the persuasion of possessing the goodwill +of such and such individuals, and the right of expecting from them, in +consequence, spontaneous and gratuitous services.'" + +We all laughed, though Parry, who loved fair play, could not help +protesting. "You really can't judge," he said, "by a single example." + +"Can't you?" cried Ellis; "well then, here's another. 'The pleasures +of piety' are 'those which accompany the persuasion of acquiring +or possessing the favour of God; and the power, in consequence, of +expecting particular favours from him, either in this life or in +another.'" + +We laughed again; and Parry said, "Well, I resign myself to your +levity. And after all, it doesn't much matter, for no one now is an +egoistic Hedonist." + +"What are we then," asked Bartlett, "you and I?" + +"Why, of course, altruistic Hedonists," said Parry. + +"And what's the difference?" + +"The difference is," Parry began to explain, but Ellis interrupted him +again. + +"The difference is," he cried, "that one is a brute and the other a +prig." + +"Really, Ellis," Parry began in a tone of remonstrance. + +"But, Parry," I interposed, "are you a Utilitarian?" + +"Not precisely," he replied; "but my conclusions are much the same +as theirs. And of all the _à priori_ systems I prefer Utilitarianism, +because it is at least clear, simple, and precise." + +"That is what I can never see that it is." + +"Why, what is your difficulty?" + +"In the first place," I said, "the system appears to rest upon a +dogma." + +"True," he said, "but that particular dogma--the greatest happiness +of the greatest number--is one which commends itself to everyone's +consciousness." + +"I don't believe it!" said Ellis. "Let us take an example. A +crossing-sweeper, we will suppose, is suffering from a certain disease +about which the doctors know nothing. Their only chance of discovering +how to cure it is to vivisect the patient; and it is found, by the +hedonistic calculus, that if they do so, a general preponderance +of pleasure over pain will result. Accordingly, they go to the +crossing-sweeper and say,'O crossing-sweeper! In the name of the +utilitarian philosophy we call upon you to submit to vivisection. The +tortures you will have to endure, it is true, will be inconceivable: +but think of the result! A general preponderance in the community at +large of pleasure over pain! For every atom of pain inflicted on you, +an atom of pleasure will accrue to somebody else. Upon you, it is +true, will fall the whole of the pain; whereas the pleasure will be so +minutely distributed among innumerable individuals that the increment +in each case will be almost imperceptible. No matter, it will be +there! and our arithmetic assures us that the total gain in pleasure +will exceed the total loss in pain. It will also be distributed among +a greater number of individuals. Thus all the requirements of the +hedonistic calculus are satisfied! Your duty lies plain before you! +Rise to the height of your destiny, and follow us to the dissecting +room! What do you think the crossing-sweeper would say? I leave it to +Bartlett to express his sentiments!" + +"My dear Ellis," said Parry, "your example is absurd. The case, to +begin with, is one that could not possibly occur. And even if it did, +one could not expect the man who was actually to suffer, to take an +impartial view of the situation." + +"But," I said, "putting the sufferer out of the question, what would +really be the opinion of the people for whom he was to suffer? Do you +think they would believe they ought to accept the sacrifice? Every +man, I think, would repudiate it with horror for himself; and what +right has he to accept it for other people?" + +"On the utilitarian hypothesis," said Parry, "he certainly ought to." + +"No doubt; but would he? Utilitarianism claims to rest upon common +sense, but, in the case adduced, I venture to think common sense would +repudiate it." + +"Perhaps," he said, "but the example is misleading. It is a case, as I +said, that could not occur--a mere marginal case." + +"Still," I said, "a marginal case may suggest a fundamental fallacy. +Anyhow, I cannot see myself that the judgment that the greatest +happiness of the greatest number is good has a more obvious and +indisputable validity than any other judgments of worth. It seems to +me to be just one judgment among others; and, like the others, it may +be true or false. However, I will not press that point. But what I +should like to insist upon is, that the doctrine which Bartlett seemed +to hold--" + +"I hold no doctrine," interrupted Bartlett; "I merely expressed an +opinion, which I am not likely to change for all the philosophy in +the world." And with that he opened the _Chronicle_, and presently +becoming absorbed, paid for some time no further attention to the +course of our debate. + +"Well," I continued, "the doctrine, whether Bartlett holds it or +no, that the ultimately good thing is the greatest happiness of the +greatest number, cannot be insisted upon as one which appeals at +once to everyone's consciousness as true, so that, in fact, since its +enunciation, the controversy about Good may be regarded as closed. It +will hardly be maintained, I imagine, even by Parry, that the truth of +the doctrine is a direct and simple intuition, so that it has only to +be stated to be accepted?" + +"Certainly not," Parry replied, "the contention of the Utilitarians +is that everyone who has the capacity and will take the trouble to +reflect will, in fact, arrive at their conclusions." + +"The conclusions being like other conclusions about what is good, the +result of a difficult process of analysis, in which there are many +possibilities of error, and no more self-evident and simple than any +other judgment of the kind?" + +He agreed. + +"And further, the general principle, tentative and uncertain as it is, +requiring itself to be perpetually interpreted anew for every fresh +case that turns up." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Why," I said, "even if we grant that the end of action is the +greatest happiness of the greatest number, yet we have still to +discover wherein that happiness consists." + +"But," he said, "happiness we define quite simply as pleasure." + +"Yes; but how do we define pleasure?" + +"We don't need to define it. Pleasure and pain are simply sensations. +If I cut my finger, I feel pain; if I drink when I am thirsty, I +feel pleasure. There can be no mistake about these feelings; they are +simple and radical." + +"Undoubtedly. But if you limit pleasure and pain to such simple cases +as these, you will never get out of them a system of Ethics. And, on +the other hand, if you extend the terms indefinitely, they lose at +once all their boasted precision, and become as difficult to interpret +as Good and Evil." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Why," I said, "if all conduct turned on such simple choices as that +between thick soup and clear, then perhaps its rules might be fairly +summed up in the utilitarian formula. But in fact, as everyone knows, +the choices are far more difficult; they are between, let us say, a +bottle of port and a Beethoven symphony; leisure and liberty now, or +£1000 a-year twenty years hence; art and fame at the cost of health, +or sound nerves and obscurity; and so on, and so on through all +the possible cases, infinitely more complex in reality than I could +attempt to indicate here, all of which, no doubt, could be brought +under your formula, but none of which the formula would help to +solve." + +"Of course," said Parry, "the hedonistic calculus is difficult to +apply. No one, that I know of, denies that." + +"No one could very well deny it," I replied. "But now, see what +follows. Granting, for the moment, for the sake of argument, that in +making these difficult choices we really do apply what you call the +hedonistic calculus--" + +"Which I, for my part, altogether deny!" cried Leslie. + +"Well," I resumed, "but granting it for the moment, yet the important +point is not the criterion, but the result. It is a small thing to +know in general terms (supposing even it were true that we do know it) +that what we ought to seek is a preponderance of pleasure over pain; +the whole problem is to discover, in innumerable detailed cases, +wherein precisely the preponderance consists. But this can only be +learnt, if at all, by long and difficult, and, it may be, painful +experience. We do not really know, _à priori_, what things are +pleasurable, in the extended sense which we must give to the word if +the doctrine is to be at all plausible, any more definitely than we +know what things are good. And the Utilitarians by substituting +the word Pleasure for the word Good, even if the substitution were +legitimate, have not really done much to help us in our choice." + +"But," he objected, "we do at least know what Pleasure is, even if we +do not know what things are pleasurable." + +"And so I might say we do know what Good is, even if we do not know +what things are good." + +"But we know Pleasure by direct sensation." + +"And so I might say we know Good by direct perception." + +"But you cannot define Good." + +"Neither can you define Pleasure. Both must be recognised by direct +experience." + +"But, at any rate," he said, "there is this distinction, that in the +case of Pleasure everyone _does_ recognise it when it occurs; whereas +there is no such general recognition of Good." + +"That," I admitted, "may, perhaps, be true; I am not sure." + +"But," broke in Leslie, "what does it matter whether it be true or +no? What has all this to do with the question? It's immaterial whether +Pleasure or Good is the more easily and generally recognisable. The +point is that they are radically different things." + +"No," objected Parry, "_our_ point is that they are the same thing." + +"But I don't believe you really think so, or that anyone can." + +"And _I_ don't believe that anyone _cannot_!" + +"Do you mean to say that you really agree with Bentham that, quantity +of pleasure being equal, pushpin is as good as poetry?" + +"Yes; at least I agree with what he means, though the particular +example doesn't appeal to me, for I hardly know what either pushpin or +poetry is." + +"Well then, let us take Plato's example. Do you think that, quantity +of pleasure being equal, scratching oneself when one itches is as good +as, say, pursuing scientific research." + +"Yes. But of course the point is that quantity of pleasure is not +equal." + +"You mean," interposed Ellis, "that there is more pleasure in +scratching?" + +"No, of course not." + +"But at least you will admit that there is more pleasure in some +physical experiences? Plato, for example, takes the case of a +catamite." + +"I admit nothing of the kind. In the first place, these gross physical +pleasures do not last." + +"But suppose they did? Imagine an eternal, never-changing bliss of +scratching, or of--" + +"I don't see the use of discussing the matter in this kind of way. It +seems to me to deserve serious treatment" + +"But I am perfectly serious. I do genuinely believe that a heaven of +scratching, or at any rate of some analogous but intenser experience, +would involve an indefinitely greater sum of pleasure than a heaven of +scientific research." + +"Well, all I can say is, I don't agree with you." + +"But why not?" cried Leslie. "If you were candid I believe you would. +The fact is that you have predetermined that scientific research is a +better thing than such physical pleasure, and then you bring out your +calculation of pleasure so as to agree with that foregone conclusion. +And that is what the Utilitarians always do. Being ordinary decent +people they accept the same values as the rest of the world, and on +the same grounds as the rest of the world. And then they pretend, +and no doubt believe themselves, that they have been led to their +conclusions by the hedonistic calculus. But really, if they made an +impartial attempt to apply the calculus fairly, they would arrive +at quite different results, results which would surprise and shock +themselves, and destroy the whole plausibility of their theory." + +"That is your view of the matter." + +"But isn't it yours?" + +"No, certainly not." + +"At any rate," I interposed, "it seems to be clear that this +utilitarian doctrine has nothing absolute or final or self-evident +about it. All we can say is that among the many opinions about what +things are good, there is also this opinion, very widely held, that +all pleasurable things are good, and that nothing is good that is not +pleasurable. But that, like any other opinion, can be and is disputed. +So that we return pretty much to the point we left, that there are +a number of conflicting opinions about what things are good, that +to these opinions some validity must be attached, but that it is +difficult to see how we are to reconcile them or to choose between +them. Only, somehow or other, as it seems to me, the truth about Good +must be adumbrated in these opinions, and by interrogating the actual +experience of men in their judgments about good things, we may perhaps +be able to get at least some, shadowy notion of the object of our +quest" + +"And so," said Ellis, getting up and stretching himself, "even by your +own confession we end where we began." + +"Not quite," I replied. "Besides, have we ended?" + +For some minutes it seemed as though we had. The mid-day heat (it was +now twelve o'clock) and the silence broken only by the murmur of +the fountain (for the mowers opposite had gone home to their dinner) +seemed to have induced a general disinclination to the effort of +speech or thought Even Dennis whom I had never known to be tired in +body or mind, and who was always debating something--it seemed to +matter very little what--even he, I thought at first, was ready to let +the discussion drop. But presently it became clear that he was only +revolving my last words in his mind, for before long he turned to me +and said: + +"I don't know what you mean by 'interrogating experience,' or what +results you hope to attain by that process." At this Leslie pricked +up his ears, and I saw that he at least was as eager as ever to pursue +the subject further. + +"Why," continued Dennis, "should there not be a method of discovering +Good independently of all experience?" + +The phrase immediately arrested Wilson's attention. + +"'A method independent of experience,'" he cried, "why, what kind of a +method would that be?" + +"It is not so easy to describe," replied Dennis. "But I was thinking +of the kind of method, for example, that is worked out by Hegel in his +_Logic_?" + +"I have never read Hegel," said Wilson. "So that doesn't convey much +to my mind." + +"Well," said Dennis, "I am afraid I can't summarize him!" + +"Can't you?" cried Ellis, "I can! Here he is in a nutshell! Take any +statement you like--for example, 'Nothing exists!'--put it into the +dialectical machine, turn the handle, and hey presto! out comes the +Absolute! The thing's infallible; it does not matter what you put in; +you always get out the same identical sausage." + +Dennis laughed. "There, Wilson," he said, "I hope you understand now!" + +"I can't say I do," replied Wilson, "but I daresay it doesn't much +matter." + +"Perhaps, then," said Ellis, "you would prefer the Kantian plan." + +"What is that?" + +"Oh, it's much simpler than the other. You go into your room, lock the +door, and close the shutters, excluding all light Then you proceed +to invert the mind, so as to relieve it of all its contents; look +steadily into the empty vessel, as if it were a well; and at the +bottom you will find Truth in the form of a categorical imperative. +Or, if you don't like that, there's the method of Fichte. You take an +Ego, by preference yourself; convert it into a proposition; negate it, +affirm it, negate it again, and so on _ad infinitum_, until you get +out the whole Universe in the likeness of yourself. But that's rather +a difficult method; probably you would prefer Spinoza's. You take--" + +"No!" cried Dennis, "there I protest! Spinoza is too venerable a +name." + +"So are they all, all venerable names," said Ellis. "But the question +is, to which of them do you swear allegiance? For they all arrive at +totally different results." + +"I don't know that I swear allegiance to any of them," he replied. "I +merely ventured to suggest that it is only by some such method of pure +reason that one can ever hope to discover Good." + +"You do not profess then," I said, "to have discovered any such method +yourself?" + +"No." + +"Nor do you feel sure that anyone else has?" + +"No." + +"You simply lie down and block the road?" + +"Yes," he said, "and you may walk over me if you can." + +"No," I said, "It will be simpler, I think, if possible, to walk round +you." For by this time an idea had occurred to me. + +"Do so," he said, "by all means, if you can." + +"Well" I began, "let us suppose for the sake of argument that there +really is some such method as you suggest of discovering Good--a +purely rational method, independent of all common experience." + +"Let us suppose it," he said, "if you are willing." + +"Is it your idea then," I continued, "that this Good so discovered, +would be out of all relation to what we call goods? Or would it be +merely the total reality of which they are imperfect and inadequate +expressions?" + +"I do not see," he said, "why it should have any relationship to them. +All the things we call good may really be bad; or some good and some +bad in a quite chaotic fashion. There is no reason to suppose that +our ideas about Good have any validity unless it were by an accidental +coincidence." + +"And further," I said, "though we really do believe there is a +Good, and that there is a purely rational and _à priori_ method of +discovering it, yet we do not profess to have ascertained that method +ourselves, nor do we feel sure that it has been ascertained by anyone? +In any case, we admit, I suppose, that to the great mass of men, both +of our own and all previous ages, such a method has remained unknown +and unsuspected?" + +He agreed. + +"But these men, nevertheless, have been pursuing Goods under the +impression that they were really good." + +"Yes." + +"And in this pursuit they have been expending, great men and small +alike, or rather those whom we call great and small, all that store +of energy, of passion, and blood and tears which makes up the drama of +history?" + +"Undoubtedly!" + +"But that expenditure, as we now see, was futile and absurd. The +purposes to which it was directed were not really good, nor had they +any tendency to promote Good, unless it were in some particular +case by some fortunate chance. Whatever men have striven to achieve, +whether like Christ, to found a religion, or, like Cæsar, to found +a polity, whether their quest were virtue or power or truth, or any +other of the ends we are accustomed to value and praise, or whether +they sought the direct opposites of these, or simply lived from hour +to hour following without reflexion the impulse of the moment, in any +and every case all alike, great and small, good and bad, leaders and +followers, or however else we may class them, were, in fact, equally +insignificant and absurd, the idle sport of illusions, one as +empty and baseless as another. The history of nations, the lives +of individual men, are stripped, in this view, of all interest and +meaning; nowhere is there advance or retrogression, nowhere better or +worse, nowhere sense or consistency at all. Systems, however imposing, +structures, however vast, fly into dust and powder at a touch. The +stars fall from the human firmament; the beacon-lights dance like +will-o'-the-wisps; the whole universe of history opens, cracks, and +dissolves in smoke; and we, from an ever-vanishing shore, gaze with +impotent eyes at the last gleam on the wings of the dove of Reason as +it dips for ever down to eternal night. Will not that be the only +view we can take of the course of human action if we hold that what we +believe to be goods have no relation to the true Good?" + +"Yes," he admitted, "I suppose it will." + +"And if we turn," I continued, "from the past to the present and the +future, we find ourselves, I think, in even worse case. For we +shall all, those of us who may come to accept the hypothesis you put +forward, be deprived of the consolation even of imagining a reason and +purpose in our lives. The great men of the past, at any rate, could +and did believe that they were helping to realize great Goods; but +we, in so far as we are philosophers, shall have to forego even that +satisfaction. We shall believe, indeed, that Good exists, and that +there is a method of discovering it by pure reason; but this method, +we may safely assume, we shall not most of us have ascertained. Or do +you think we shall?" + +"I cannot tell," he said; "I do not profess to have ascertained it +myself." + +"And meantime," I said, "you have not even the right to assume that +it is a good thing to endeavour to ascertain it. For the pursuit of +Truth, it must be admitted, is one of the things which we call +good; and these, we agreed, have not any relation to the true Good. +Consider, then, the position of these unfortunate men who have learnt +indeed that there is a Good, but who know nothing about it, except +that it has nothing to do with what they call good. What kind of life +will they live? Whatever they may put their hand to, they will at once +be paralyzed by the thought that it cannot possibly be worth pursuing. +Politics, art, pleasure, science--of these and all other ends +they know but one thing, that all is vanity. As by the touch of +enchantment, their world is turned to dust. Like Tantalus they stretch +lips and hands towards a water for ever vanishing, a fruit for +ever withdrawn. At war with empty phantoms, they 'strike with their +spirit's knife,' as Shelley has it, 'invulnerable nothings,' Dizzy and +lost they move about in worlds not only unrealized, but unrealizable, +'children crying in the night, with no language but a cry,' and no +father to cry to. And in all this blind confusion the only comfort +vouchsafed is that somehow or other they may, they cannot tell how, +discover a Good of which the only thing they know is that it has no +connection with the Goods they have lost. Is not this a fair account +of the condition to which men would be reduced who really did accept +and believe your hypothesis?" + +"Yes," he said, "perhaps it is, but still I must protest against this +appeal to prejudice and passion. Supposing the truth really were as I +suggested, we should have to face it, whether or no it seemed to ruin +our own life." + +"Yes," I agreed, "supposing the truth were so. But, after all, we have +no sufficient theoretical reason for believing it to be so, and +every kind of practical reason against it. We cannot, it is true, +demonstrate--and that was admitted from the first--that any of our +judgments about what is good are true; but there is no reason why we +should not believe--and I should say we must believe--that somehow or +other they do at least have truth in them." + +"Well, and if so?" + +"If so, we do not depend, as you said we do, or at least we do not +believe ourselves to depend, for our knowledge about Good, upon some +purely rational process not yet discovered; but those things which +we judge to be good really, we think, in some sense or so, and by +analyzing and classifying and comparing our experiences of such things +we may come to see more clearly what it is in them that we judge to be +good; and again by increasing experience we may come to know more Good +than we knew; and generally, if we once admit that we have some light, +we may hope, by degrees, to get more; and that getting of more light +will be the most important business, not only of philosophy, but of +life." + +"But if we can judge of Good at all, why do we not judge rightly? +If we really have a perception, how is it that it is confused, not +clear?" + +"I cannot tell how or why; but perhaps it is something of this kind. +Our experience, in the first place, is limited, and we cannot know +Good except in so far as we experience it--so, at least, I think, +though perhaps you may not agree. And if that be so, even if our +judgments about Good that we have experienced were clear, our +conclusions drawn from them would yet be very imperfect and tentative, +because there would be so much Good that we had not experienced. But, +in fact, as it seems, our judgments even about what we do experience +are confused, because every experience is indefinitely complex, and +contains, along with the Good, so much that is indifferent or bad. And +to analyze out precisely what it is that we are judging to be good is +often a difficult and laborious task, though it is one that should be +a main preoccupation with us all." + +"You think, then, that there are two reasons for the obscurity and +confusion that prevail in our judgments about Good--one, that our +experience is limited, the other that it is complex?" + +"Yes; and our position in this respect, as it always seems to me, is +like that of people who are learning to see, or to develop some other +sense. Something they really do perceive, but they find it hard to say +what. Their knowledge of the object depends on the state of the organ; +and it is only by the progressive perfecting of that, that they can +settle their doubts and put an end to their disputes, whether with +themselves or with other people." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Well, if you will allow me to elaborate my metaphor, I conceive that +we have a kind of internal sense, like a rudimentary eye, whose +nature it is to be sensitive to Good, just as it is the nature of +the physical eye to be sensitive to light. But this eye of the soul, +being, as I said, rudimentary, does not as yet perceive Good with any +clearness or precision, but only in a faint imperfect way, catching +now one aspect of it, now another, but never resting content in any of +these, being driven on by the impulse to realize itself to ever surer +and finer discrimination, with the sense that it is learning its own +nature as it learns that of its object, and that it will never be +itself a true and perfect organ until it is confronted with the true +and perfect Good. And as by the physical eye we learn by degrees +to distinguish colours and forms, to separate and combine them, +and arrange them in definite groups, and then, going further, after +discerning in this way a world of physical things, proceed to fashion +for our delight a world of art, in that finer experience becoming +aware of our own finer self; so, by this eye of hers, does the soul, +by long and tentative effort, learn to distinguish and appraise the +Goods which Nature presents to her; and then, still unsatisfied, +proceed to shape for herself a new world, as it were, of moral art, +fashioning the relations of man to Nature and to his fellow-man under +the stress of her need to realize herself, ever creating and ever +destroying only to create anew, learning in the process her own +nature, yet aware that she has never learnt it, but passing on without +rest to that unimagined consummation wherein the impulse that urges +her on will be satisfied at last, and she will rest in the perfect +enjoyment of that which she knows to be Good, because in it she +has found not only her object but herself. Is not this a possible +conception?" + +"I do not say," he replied, "that it is impossible; but I still feel a +difficulty." + +"What is it?" I said, "for I am anxious not to shirk anything." + +"Well," he said, "you will remember when Parry suggested that the +perception of Good might perhaps be an instinct, you objected that +instincts conflict one with another, and that we therefore require +another faculty to choose between them. Now it seems to me that +your own argument is open to the same objection. You postulate some +faculty--which perhaps you might as well call an instinct--and +this faculty, as I understand you, in the effort to realize itself, +proceeds to discriminate various objects as good. But, now, does this +same faculty also know that the Goods are good, and which is better +than which, and generally in what relations they stand to one another +and to the absolutely Good? Or do we not require here, too, another +faculty to make these judgments, and must not this faculty, as I +said at first, have previously achieved, by some method of its own, a +knowledge of Good, in order that it may judge between Goods?" + +"No," I said, "in that way you will get, as you hint, nothing but an +infinite regress. The perception of Good, whenever it comes, must be, +in the last analysis, something direct, immediate, and self-evident; +and so far I am in agreement with Parry. My only quarrel with him was +in regard to his assumption that the judgments we make about Good are +final and conclusive. The experiences we recognize as good are always, +it seems to me, also bad; because we are never able to apprehend or +experience what is absolutely Good. Only, as I like to believe--you +may say I have no grounds for the belief--we are always progressing +towards such a Good; and the more of it we apprehend and experience, +the more we are aware of our own well-being; or perhaps I ought to +say, of the well-being of that part of us, whatever it may be--I call +it the soul--which pursues after Good. For her attitude, perhaps you +will agree, towards her object, is not simply one of perception, but +one of appetency and enjoyment. Her aim is not merely to know Good, +but to experience it; so that along with her apprehension of Good goes +her apprehension of her own well-being, dependent upon and varying +with her relation to that, her object. Thus she is aware of a tension, +as it were, when she cannot expand, of a drooping and inanition when +nutriment fails, of a rush of health and vigour as she passes into a +new and larger life, as she freely unfolds this or that aspect of her +complex being, triumphs at last over an obstacle that has long hemmed +and thwarted her course, and rests for a moment in free and joyous +consciousness of self, like a stream newly escaped from a rocky gorge, +to meander in the sun through a green melodious valley. And this +perception she has of her own condition is like our perception of +health and disease. We know when we are well, not by any process of +ratiocination, by applying from without a standard of health deduced +by pure thought, but simply by direct sensation of well-being. So +it is with this soul of ours, which is conversant with Good. Her +perception of Good is but the other side of her perception of her own +well-being, for her well-being consists in her conformity to Good. +Thus every phase of her growth (in so far as she grows) is in +one sense good, and in another bad; good in so far as it is +self-expression, bad in so far as the expression is incomplete. From +the limitations of her being she flies, towards its expansion she +struggles; and by her perception that every Good she attains is also +bad, she is driven on in her quest of that ultimate Good which +would be, if she could reach it, at once the complete realization of +herself, and her complete conformity to Good." + +"But," he objected, "apart from other difficulties, in your method of +discovering the Good is there no place for Reason at all?" + +"I would not say that," I replied, "though I am bound to confess +that I see no place for what you call pure Reason. It is the part of +Reason, on my hypothesis, to tabulate and compare results. She +does not determine directly what is good, but works, as in all the +sciences, upon given data, recording the determinations not (in this +case) of the outer but of the inner sense, noticing what kinds of +activity satisfy, and to what degree, the expanding nature of this +soul that seeks Good, and deducing therefrom, so far as may be, +temporary rules of conduct based upon that unique and central +experience which is the root and foundation of the whole. Temporary +rules, I say, because, by the nature of the case, they can have in +them nothing absolute and final, inasmuch as they are mere deductions +from a process which is always developing and transforming itself. +Systems of morals, maxims of conduct are so many landmarks left to +show the route by which the soul is marching; casts, as it were, of +her features at various stages of her growth, but never the final +record of her perfect countenance. And that is why the current +morality, the positive institutions and laws, on which Parry insisted +with so much force, both have and have not the value he assigned to +them. They are in truth invaluable records of experience, and he is +rash who attacks them without understanding; and yet, in a sense, +they are only to be understood in order to be superseded, because the +experience they resume is not final, but partial and incomplete. Would +you agree with that, Parry, or no?" + +"I am not sure," he said. "It would be a dangerous doctrine to put in +practice." + +"Yes," I said, "but I fear that life itself is a dangerous thing, +and nothing we can do will make it safe. Our only hope is courage and +sanity." + +"But," said Dennis, "to return to the other point, on your view is our +knowledge of Good altogether subsequent to experience?" + +"Yes," I replied, "our knowledge is, if you like; but it is a +knowledge of experience in Good. We first recognize Good by what +I call direct perception; then we analyze and define what we have +recognized; and the results of this process, I suppose, is what we +call knowledge, so far as it goes." + +"And there can be no knowledge of Good independent of experience?" + +"I do not know; perhaps there might be; only I should like to suggest +that even if we could arrive at such a knowledge by pure reason, we +should have achieved only a definition of Good, not Good itself; for +Good, I suppose you will agree, must be a state of experience, not a +formula." + +"Even if it be so," he said, "it might still be possible to arrive at +its formula by pure reason." + +"It may be so," I replied, "only I console myself with the thought, +that if, as is the case with so many of us, we cannot see our way +to any such method, we are not left, on my hypothesis, altogether +forlorn. For though we cannot know Good, we can go on realizing Goods, +and so making progress towards the ultimate Good, which is the goal +not merely of knowledge but of action." + +"And how, may I ask," said Wilson, after a pause, "in your conception, +is Good related to Happiness?" + +"That," I replied, "is one of the points we have to ascertain by +experience. For I regard the statement that happiness is the end as +one of the numerous attempts which men have made to interpret +the deliverances of their internal sense. I do not imagine the +interpretation to be final and complete, and indeed it is too abstract +and general to have very much meaning. But some meaning, no doubt, +it has; and exactly what, may form the subject of much interesting +discussion in detail, which belongs, however, rather to the question +of the content of Good, than to that of the method of discovering it." + +"The method!" replied Wilson, "but have you really indicated a method +at all?" + +"I have indicated," I replied "what I suppose to be the method of all +science, namely, the interpretation of experience." + +"But," he objected, "everything depends on the kind of +interpretation." + +"True," I admitted, "but long ago I did my best to prove that we could +not learn anything about Good by the scientific method as you defined +it. For that can tell us only about what is, not about what ought to +be. At the same time, the recording and comparing and classifying of +the deliverances of this internal sense, has a certain analogy to the +procedure of science. At any rate, it might, I think, fairly be called +a method, though a method difficult to apply, and one, above +all, which only he can apply who has within himself the requisite +experience. And in this respect the study of the Good resembles the +study of the Beautiful." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Why," I said, "those who are conversant with the arts are well aware +that there is such a thing as a true canon, though they do not profess +to be in complete possession of it. They have a perception of the +Beautiful, not ready-made and final, but tentative and in process +of growth. This perception they cultivate by constant observation of +beautiful works, some more and some less, according to their genius +and opportunities; and thus they are always coming to see, though they +never see perfectly, just as I said was the case in the matter of the +Good." + +"But," objected Parry, "what proof is there that there is any standard +at all in such matters?" + +"There is no proof," I replied, "except the perception itself; and +that is sufficient proof to those who have it. And to some slight +extent, no doubt, all men have it; only many do not care to develop +it; and so, feeling in themselves that they have no standard of +judgment in art, they suppose that all others are like themselves; +and that there really is no standard and no knowledge possible in such +matters. And it is the same with Good; if a man will not choose to +cultivate his inner sense, and to train it to clear and ever clearer +perception, he will either never believe that there is any knowledge +of Good, or any meaning at all in the word; or else, since all men +feel the need of an end for action, he will have recourse to a fixed +dogma, taken up by accident and clung to with obstinate desperation, +without any root in his true inner nature; and to him all discussion +about Good will seem to be mere folly, since he will believe either +that he possesses it already or that it cannot be possessed at all. +Or If he ask after the method of discovering it, he will be unable +to understand it, because he does not choose to develop the necessary +experience; and so he will go through life for ever unconvinced, +arguing often and angrily, but always with no result, while all the +time the knowledge he denies is lying hidden within him, if only he +had the patience and faith to seek it there. But without that, there +is no possibility of convincing him; and it will be wiser altogether +to leave him alone. This, whether you call it a method or no, is the +only idea I can form as to the possibility of discovering what is +Beautiful and Good." + +There was silence for a few moments, and then Wilson said: + +"Do you mean to imply, on your hypothesis, that we all are always +seeking Good?" + +"No," I said; "whatever I may think on that point, I have not +committed myself. It is enough for my purpose if we admit that we have +the faculty of seeking Good, supposing we choose to do so." + +"And also the faculty of seeking Bad?" + +"Possibly; I do not pronounce upon that." + +"Well, anyhow, do you admit the existence of Bad?" + +"Oh yes," I cried, "as much as you like; for it is bad, to my mind, +that we should be in a difficult quest of Good, instead of in secure +possession of it. And about the nature of that quest I make no facile +assumption. I do not pretend that what I have called the growth of the +soul from within is a smooth and easy process, a quiet unfolding of +leafy green in a bright and windless air. If I recognize the delight +of expansion, I recognize also the pain of repression--the thwarted +desire, the unfulfilled hope, the passion vain and abortive. I do not +say even whether or no, in this dim travail of the spirit, pleasure +prevails over pain, evil over good. The most I would claim is to have +suggested a meaning for our life in terms of Good; and my view, I half +hoped, would have appealed in particular to you, because what I have +offered is not an abstract formula, hard to interpret, hard to +relate to the actual facts of life, but an attempt to suggest the +significance of those facts themselves, to supply a key to the +cryptogram we call experience. And in proportion as we really believed +this view to be true, it would lead us not away from but into life, +not shutting us up, as has been too much the bent of philosophy, like +the homunculus of Goethe's 'Faust,' in the crystal phial of a set and +rigid system, to ring our little chiming bell and flash our tiny light +over the vast sea of experience, which all around us foams and floods, +myriad-streaming, immense, and clearly seen, yet never felt, through +that transparent barrier; but rather, like him when he broke the +glass, made free of the illimitable main, to follow under the yellow +moon the car of Galatea, her masque of nymphs and tritons, her gliding +pomp of cymbals and conchs, away through tempest and calm, by night or +day, companioned or alone, to the haunts of the far Cabeiri, and the +home where the Mothers dwell." + +As I concluded, I looked across at Audubon, to see if I had made any +impression upon him. But he only smiled at me rather ironically +and said, "Is that meant, may I ask, for an account of everyday +experience?" + +"Rather," I replied, "for an interpretation of it." + +"It would need a great deal of interpretation," he said, "to make +anything of the kind out of mine." + +"No doubt," I said; "yet I am not without hope that the interpretation +may be true; and that some day you may recognize it to be so yourself. +Meantime, perhaps, I, who look on, see more of the game than you +who play it; and surely in moments of leisure like this you will not +refuse to listen to my poor attempt to read the riddle of the sphinx." + +"Oh," he said, "I listen gladly enough, but as I would to a poem." + +"And do you think," I replied, "that there is not more truth in poetry +than in philosophy or science?" + +But Wilson entered a vigorous protest, and for a time there was a +babel of argument and declamation, from which no clear line of thought +disengaged itself. Dennis, however, in his persistent way, had been +revolving in his mind what I had said, and at the first opportunity he +turned to me with the remark, "There's one point in your position that +I can't understand. Do you mean to say that it is our seeking that +determines the Good, or the Good that determines our seeking." + +"Really," I said, "I don't know. I should say both are true. We, in +the process of our seeking, affirm what we find to be good, and +in that sense determine for ourselves what for us was previously +indeterminate; but, on the other hand, our determination is not mere +caprice; it is determination of Good, which we must therefore suppose +somehow or other to 'be' before we discern it." + +"But then, in what sense _is_ it?" + +"That is what it is so hard to say. Perhaps it is the law of our +seeking, the creative and urging principle of the world, striving +through us to realize itself, and recognized by us in that effort and +strain." + +"Then your hypothesis is that Good has to be brought about, even while +you admit that in some sense it is?" + +"Yes, it exists partially, and it ought to come to exist completely." + +"Well now, that is exactly what seems to me absurd. If Good is at all +it is eternal and complete." + +"But then, I ask in my turn, in what sense _is_ it?" + +"In the only sense that anything really is. The rest is nothing but +appearance." + +"What we call Evil, you mean, is nothing but appearance." + +"Yes." + +"You think, in fact, with the poet, that 'all that is, is good'?" + +"Yes," he replied, "all that really is." + +"Ah!" I said, "but in that 'really' lies the crux of the matter. Take, +for instance, a simple fact of our own experience--pain. Would you +say, perhaps, that pain is good?" + +"No," he replied, "not as it appears to us; but as it really is." + +"As it really is to whom, or in whom?" + +"To the Absolute, we will say; to God, if you like." + +"Well, but what is the relation of the pain as it is in God to the +pain that appears to us?" + +"I don't pretend to know," he said, "but that is hardly the point. The +point is, that it is only in connection with what is in God that the +word Good has any real meaning. Appearance is neither good nor bad; it +is simply not real." + +"But," cried Audubon, interrupting in a kind of passion, "It is in +appearance that we live and move and have our being. What is the use +of saying that appearance is neither good nor bad, when we are feeling +it as the one or the other every moment of our lives? And as to the +Good that is in God, who knows or cares about it? What consolation is +it to me when I am suffering from the toothache, to be told that God +is enjoying the pain that tortures me? It is simply absurd to call +God's Good good at all, unless it has some kind of relation to our +Good." + +"Well," said Dennis, "as to that, I can only say that, in my opinion, +it is nothing but our weakness that leads us to take such a view. When +I am really at my best, when my intellect and imagination are working +freely, and the humours and passions of the flesh are laid to rest, I +seem to see, with a kind of direct intuition, that the world, just as +it is, is good, and that it is only the confusion and obscurity due to +imperfect vision that makes us call it defective and wish to alter it +for the better. When I perceive Truth at all, I perceive that it is +also Good; and I cannot then distinguish between what is, and what +ought to be." + +"Really," cried Audubon, "really? Well, that I cannot understand." + +"I hardly know how to make it clear," he replied, "unless it were by +a concrete example. I find that when I think out any particular aspect +of things, so far, that is to say, as I can think it out at all, all +the parts and details fall into such perfect order and arrangement +that it becomes impossible for me any longer to desire that anything +should be other than it is. And that, even in the regions where at +other times I am most prone to discover error and defect. You know, +for instance, that I am something of an economist?" + +"What are you not?" I said. "If you sin, it is not from lack of +light!" + +"Well," he continued, "there is, I suppose, no department of affairs +which one is more inclined to criticise than this. And yet the more +one investigates the more one discovers, even here, the harmony +and necessity that pervade the whole universe. The ebb and flow of +business from this trade or country to that, the rise and fall of +wages, or of the rate of interest, the pouring of capital into or +out of one industry or another, the varying relations of imports +to exports, the periods of depression and recovery, and in close +connection with all this the ever-changing conditions of the lives of +countless workmen throughout the world, their well-being or ill-being, +it may be their very life and death, together with the whole fate +of future generations in health, capacity, opportunity, and the +like,--all this complexus of things, so chaotic and unintelligible at +the first view, so full, as we say, of iniquity, injustice, and the +like, falls, as we penetrate further, into one vast and harmonious +system, so inspiring to the imagination, so inevitable to the +understanding, that our objections and cavillings, ethical, æsthetic, +or what you will, simply vanish away at the clearer vision, or, if +they persist, persist as mere irrelevant illusions; while we +abandon ourselves to the contemplation of the whole, as of some +world-symphony, whose dissonances, no less than its concords, are +taken up and resolved in the irresistible march and progress, the +ocean-flooding of the Whole. You will think," he continued, "that I am +absurdly rhapsodical over what, after all, is matter prosaic enough; +but what I wanted to suggest was that it is Reality so conceived that +appeals to me at once as Truth and as Good. This partial vision of +mine in the economic sphere is a kind of type of the way in which +I conceive the Absolute. I conceive Him to be a Being necessary and +therefore perfect; a Being in face of whom our own incoherent and +tentative criticisms, our complaints that this or that should, if only +it could, be otherwise, our regrets, desires, aspirations, and +the like, shew but as so many testimonies to our own essential +imperfection, weaknesses to be surmounted, rather than signs of worth +to stamp us, as we vainly boast, the elect of creation." + +He finished; and I half expected that Leslie would intervene, since +I saw, as I thought, many weak points in the position. But he kept +silence, impressed, perhaps, by that idea of the Perfect and Eternal +which has a natural home in the minds of the generous and the young. +So I began myself rather tentatively: + +"I think," I said, "I understand the position you wish to indicate; +and so stated, in general terms, no doubt it is attractive. It is when +we endeavour to work it out in detail that the difficulties appear. +The position, as I understand it, is, that, from the point of view of +the Absolute, what we call Evil and what we call Good simply have +no existence. Good and Evil, in our sense, are mere appearances; and +Good, in the absolute sense, is identical with the Absolute or with +God?" + +"Yes," he said, "that is my notion." + +"And so, for example, to apply the idea in detail, in the region which +you yourself selected, all that we regret, or hate, or fear in our +social system--poverty, disease, starvation and the rest--is not +really evil at all, does not in fact exist, but is merely what appears +to us? There is, in fact, no social evil?" + +"No," he replied, "in the sense I have explained there is none." + +"Well then," I continued, "how is it with all our social and other +ideals? Our desire to make our own lives and other people's lives +happier? Our efforts to subdue nature, to conquer disease, to +introduce order and harmony where there appears to be discord and +confusion? How is it with those finer and less directly practical +impulses by which you yourself are mainly pre-occupied--the quest +of knowledge or of beauty for their own sake, the mere putting of +ourselves into right relations with the universe, apart from any +attempt to modify it? Are all these desires and activities mere +illusions of ours, or worse than illusions, errors and even vices, +impious misapprehensions of the absolutely Good, frivolous attempts to +adapt the Perfect to our own imperfections?" + +"No," he replied, "I would not put it so. Some meaning, I apprehend, +there must be in time and change, and some meaning also in our +efforts, though not, I believe, the meaning which we imagine. The +divine life, as I conceive it, is a process; only a process that +is somehow eternal, circular, so to speak, not rectilinear, much as +Milton appears to imagine it when he describes the blessed spirits +'progressing the dateless and irrevoluble circle of eternity'; and +of this eternal process our activity, which we suppose to be moving +towards an end, is somehow or other an essential element. So that, +in this way, it is necessary and right that we should strive after +ideals; only, when we are thinking philosophically, we ought to make +clear to ourselves that in truth the Ideal is eternally fulfilled, its +fulfilment consisting precisely In that process which we are apt to +regard as a mere means to its realization. This, as Hegel has it, is +the 'cunning' of the Absolute Reason, which deludes us into the +belief that there is a purpose to be attained, and by the help of that +delusion preserves that energy of action which all the time is really +itself the End." + +I looked up at him as he finished, to see whether he was quite +serious; and as he appeared to be so, and as Leslie still kept +silence, I took up the argument as follows. + +"I understand," I said, "in a sort of way what you mean; but still the +same difficulty recurs which Audubon has already put forward. On +your hypothesis there seems to be an impassable gulf between God's +conception of Good and ours. To God, as it seems, the world is +eternally good; and in its goodness is included that illusion by which +it appears to us so bad, that we are continually employed in trying to +make it better. The maintenance of this illusion is essential to the +nature of the world; to us, evil always must appear. But, as we know +by experience, the evil that _appears_ is just as terrible and just +as hateful as it would be if it really _were_. A toothache, as Audubon +put it, is no less a pain to us because it is a pleasure to God. We +cannot, if we would, adopt His point of view; and clearly it would +be impious to try, since we should be endeavouring to defeat His +ingenious plan to keep the world going by hoodwinking us. We therefore +are chained and bound to the whirling wheel of appearance; to us what +seems good is good, and what seems bad, bad; and your contention that +all existence is somehow eternally good is for us simply irrelevant; +it belongs to the point of view of God to which we have no access." + +"Yes," cried Audubon, "and what a God to call God at all! Why not +just as much the devil? What are we to think of the Being who is +responsible for a world of whose economy our evil is not merely +an accident, a mistake, but positively an essential, inseparable +condition!" + +"What, indeed!" exclaimed Leslie. "Call Him God, by all means, if you +like, but such a God as Zeus was to Prometheus, omnipotent, indeed, +and able to exact with infallible precision His daily and hourly toll +of blood and tears, but powerless at least to chain the mind He has +created free, or to exact allegiance and homage from spirits greater, +though weaker, than Himself." + +This was the sort of talk, I knew, that rather annoyed Dennis. I did +not therefore, for the moment, leave him time to reply, but proceeded +to a somewhat different point: + +"Even putting aside," I said, "the moral character of God, as it +appears in your scheme of the universe, must we not perhaps accuse Him +of a slight lapse of intelligence? For, as I understand the matter, +it was essential to the success of the Absolute's plan that we should +never discover the deception that is being played upon us. But, it +seems, we do discover it. Hegel, for example, by your own confession, +has not only detected but exposed it. Well then, what is to be done? +Do you suppose that we could, even if we would, continue to lend +ourselves to the imposition? Must not our aims and purposes cease to +have any interest for us, once we are clear that they are not true +ends? And that which, according to the hypothesis, _is_ the true end, +the 'dateless and irrevoluble circle' of activity, that, surely, we +at least cannot sanction or approve, seeing that it involves and +perpetuates the very misery and pain whose destruction was our only +motive for acting at all. For, whatever may be the case with God, we, +you will surely admit, are forbidden by all that in us is highest and +best, to approve or even to acquiesce in the deliberate perpetuation +of a world of whose existence all that we call evil is an essential +and eternal constituent So that, as I said at first, it looks as if +the Absolute Reason had not been, after all, quite as cunning as +it thought, since it has allowed us to discover and expose the very +imposition it had invented to cheat us into concurrence with its +plans." + +Dennis laughed a little at this; and then, "Well," he began, "between +you, with your genial irony, and Audubon and Leslie with their +heaven-defying rhetoric, I scarcely know whether I stand on my head or +my heels. But, the fact is, I think I made a slip in stating my view; +or perhaps there was really a latent contradiction in my mind. At any +rate, what I believe, whether or no I can believe it consistently, is +that it is possible for us, so to speak, to take God's point of +view; so that the evil against which we rebel we may come at last to +acquiesce in, as seen from the higher point of view. And, seriously, +don't you think it is conceivable that that may be, after all, the +true meaning of the discipline of life?" + +"I cannot tell," I said, "perhaps it may. But, meantime, allow me to +press home the importance of your admission. For, as you say, there is +at least one of our aims which has a real significance, namely, that +of reaching the point of view of God. But this is something that lies +in the future, something to be brought about. And so, on your own +hypothesis, Good, after all, would not be that which eternally exists, +but something which has to be realized in time--namely, a change of +mind on the part of all rational beings, whereby they view the world +no longer in a partial imperfect way, but, in Spinoza's phrase, '_sub +specie æternitatis_'" + +"No," he said, "I cannot admit that that is an end for the Absolute, +though I admit it is an end for us. The Absolute, somehow or other, is +eternally perfect and good; and this eternal perfection and goodness +are unaffected by any change that may take place in our minds." + +"Well," I said, "I must leave it to the Absolute and yourself to +settle how that can possibly be. Meantime, I am content with your +admission that, for us, at least, there is an end and a Good lying +before us to be realized in the future. For that, as I understand, you +do admit. In your own life, for example, even if you aim at nothing +else, or at nothing else which you wholly approve, yet you do aim, at +least, with your whole nature at this--to attain a view of the world +as it may be conceived in its essence to be, not merely as it appears +to us." + +"Yes," he said, "I admit that is my aim." + +"That aim, then, is your Good?" + +"I suppose so." + +"And it is something, as I said, that lies in the future? For you do +not, I suppose, count yourself to have attained, or at least to have +attained as perfectly as you hope to?" + +He agreed again. + +"Well then," I continued, "what may be the relation of this Good of +yours, awaiting realization in the future, to that eternal Good of God +in which you also believe, we will reserve, with your permission, for +some future inquiry. It is enough for our present purpose that even +you, who assert the eternal perfection of the world, do nevertheless +at the same time admit a future Good; and much more do other men admit +it, who have no idea that the world is perfect at all. So that we may, +I think, safely suppose it to be generally agreed that the Good is +something to be realized in the future, so far, at any rate as it +concerns us--and, for my part, I have no desire to go farther than +that." + +"Well," he said, "I am content for the present to leave the matter so. +But I reserve the right to go back upon the argument." + +"Of course!" I replied, "for it is not, I hope, an argument, but a +discussion; and a discussion not for victory but for truth. Meantime, +then, let us take as a hypothesis that Good is something to be brought +about; and let us consider next the other point that Is included in +your position. According to you, as I understand, what requires to be +brought about, if ever Good is to be realized, is not any change in +the actual stuff, so to speak, of the world, in the structure, as it +were, of our experience, but only a change in our attitude towards all +this--a change in the subject, as they say, and not in the object. +Our aim should be not to abolish what we call evil, by successive +modifications of physical and social conditions, but rather, all these +remaining essentially the same, to come to see that what appears to be +evil is not really so." + +"Yes," he said, "that is the view I would suggest." + +"So that, for example, though we might still experience a toothache, +we should no longer regard it as an evil; and so with all the host +of things we are in the habit of calling bad: they would continue +unchanged 'in themselves,' as you Hegelians say, only to us they would +appear no longer bad, but good?" + +"Yes; as I said at first, all reality is good, and all Evil, +so-called, is merely illusion." + +I was about to reply when I was forestalled by Bartlett. For some time +past the discussion had been left pretty much to Dennis and myself, +with an occasional incursion from Audubon and Leslie. Ellis had gone +indoors; Parry and Wilson were talking together about something else; +and Bartlett appeared to be still absorbed in the _Chronicle_. I +noticed, however, that for the last few moments he had been getting +restless, and I suspected that he was listening, behind his newspaper, +to what we were saying. I was not therefore altogether surprised when, +upon Dennis' last remark, he suddenly broke into our debate with the +exclamation; + +"Would it be' in order' to introduce a concrete example? There is a +curiously apt one here in the _Chronicle_." + +And upon our assenting, he read us a long extract about +phosphorus-poisoning, the details of which I now forget, but at any +rate it brought before us, very vividly, a tale of cruel suffering and +oppression. + +"Now," he said, as he finished, "is that, may I ask, the kind of thing +that it amuses you to call mere illusion?" + +"Yes," replied Dennis stoutly, "that will do very well for an +example." + +"Well," he rejoined, "I do not propose to dispute about words; but for +my own part I should have thought that, if anything is real, that +is; and so, I think, you would find it, if you yourself were the +sufferer." + +"But," objected Dennis, "do you think that it is in the moment of +suffering that one is most competent to judge about the reality of +pain?" + +"Certainly, for it is only in the moment of suffering that one really +knows what it is that one is judging about." + +"I am not sure about that. I doubt whether it is true that experience +involves knowledge and _vice versa_. It is, indeed, to my mind, +part of the irony of life, that we know so much which we can never +experience, and experience so much which we can never know." + +"I don't follow that," said Bartlett, "but of one thing I am sure, +that you will never get rid of evil by calling it illusion." + +"No," Dennis conceded, "you will never of course get rid of it, in the +sense you mean, by that, or indeed, in my opinion, by any other means. +But we were discussing not what we are to do with evil, but how we are +to conceive it." + +"But," he objected, "if you begin by conceiving it as illusion, you +will never do anything with it at all." + +"Perhaps not, but I am not sure that that is my business." + +"At any rate, Dennis," I interposed, "you will, I expect, admit, that +for us, while we live in the region of what you call 'Appearance,' +Evil is at least as pressing and as obvious as Good." + +"Yes," he said, "I am ready to admit that." + +"And," I continued, "for my part I agree with Bartlett and with +Leslie, that it is Appearance with which we are concerned. What I have +been contending for throughout, is that in the world in which we live +(whether we are to call it Reality or Appearance), Evil and Good are +the really dominating facts; and that we cannot dismiss them from our +consideration either on the ground that we know nothing of them (as +Ellis was inclined to maintain) or on the ground that we know all +about them (as Parry and Wilson seemed to think). On the contrary, it +is, I believe, our main business to find out about them; and that +we can find out about them is with me an article of faith, and so, I +believe, it is with most people, whether or no they are aware of it or +are ready to admit it." + +Dennis was preparing to reply, when Ellis reappeared to summon us to +lunch. We followed him in gladly enough, for it was past our usual +hour and we were hungry; and the conversation naturally taking a +lighter turn, I have nothing further to record until we reassembled in +the afternoon. + + + + +BOOK II. + + +When we reassembled for coffee on the loggia after lunch, I did not +suppose we should continue the morning's discussion. The conversation +had been turning mostly on climbing, and other such topics, and +finally had died away into a long silence, which, for my own part, I +felt no particular inclination to break. We had let down an awning to +shelter us from the sun, where it began to shine in upon us, so that +it was still cool and pleasant where we sat; and so delightful did I +feel the situation to be, that I was almost vexed to be challenged to +renew our interrupted debate. The challenge, rather to my surprise, +came from Audubon, who suddenly said to me, _à propos_ of nothing, in +a tone at once ironic and genial: + +"Well, I thought you talked very well this morning." + +"Really!" I rejoined, "I imagined you were thinking it all great +nonsense." + +"So no doubt it was," he replied; "still, it amused me to hear you." + +"I am glad of that, at any rate; I was afraid perhaps you were bored." + +"Not at all. Of course, I couldn't fail to see that you weren't +arriving anywhere. But that I never expected. In fact, what amuses me +most about you is, the way in which you continue to hope that you're +going to get at some result." + +"But didn't we?" + +"I don't see that you did. You showed, or tried to show, that we must +believe in Good; but you made no attempt to discover what Good is." + +"No," I admitted; "that, of course, is much more difficult." + +"Exactly; but it is the only point of importance." + +"Well," I said, "perhaps if we were to try, we should find that we can +come to some agreement even about that." + +"I don't believe it." + +"But why not?" + +"Because people are so radically different, that there is no common +ground to build upon." + +"But is the difference really so radical as all that?" + +"Yes," he said, "I think so. At any rate, the proof of the pudding +is in the eating, and I make you an offer. Here are eight of us, all +Englishmen, all contemporaries, all brought up more or less in the +same way. And I venture to say that, if you will raise the question, +you won't find, even among ourselves, with all the chances in your +favour, any substantial agreement about what we think good." + +This direct challenge was rather alarming. I didn't feel that I could +refuse to take it up, but I was anxious to guard myself against the +consequences of failure. So I began, with some hesitation, "You must +remember that I have never maintained that at any given moment any +given set of people will be found to be in agreement on all points. +All I ventured to suggest was, that instead of our all being made, as +you contend, radically different, we have, underneath our differences, +a common nature, capable of judging, and judging truly, about Good, +though only on the basis of actual experience of Good. And on this +view I shall, of course, expect to find differences of opinion, +corresponding to differences of experience, even among people as much +alike as ourselves; only I shall not expect the differences to be +finally irreconcilable, but that we shall be able to supplement and +elucidate one another's conclusions by bringing to bear each his own +experience upon that of the rest." + +"Well," he said, "we shall see. I have invited you to make the +experiment." + +"I am willing," I replied, "if it is agreeable to the others. Only I +must ask you to understand from the beginning precisely what it is I +am trying to do. I shall be merely describing to you what I have +been able to perceive, with such experience as I have had, in this +difficult matter; and you will judge, all of you, whether or no, and +to what extent, your perceptions coincide with mine, the object being +simply to clear up these perceptions of ours, if we can; to define +somehow, as it were, what we have seen, in the hope of coming to see +something more." + +They agreed to take me on my own terms, and I was about to begin, +when, happening to catch Dennis' eye, I suddenly felt discouraged. +"After all," I said, "I doubt whether it's much use my making the +attempt." + +"Why, what's the matter?" + +"Nothing," I said. "At least--well, I may as well confess it, though +it seems like giving away my whole case. The fact is, that there are +certain quite fundamental points in this connection on which Dennis +and I have never been able to agree; and although I believe we should +in time come to understand one another, I doubt whether we can do so +here and now. At any rate, he doesn't look at all as if he meant +to make it easy for me; and if I cannot carry him along with me, I +suppose I may as well give up at once." + +"Oh," said Audubon, "if that is all, I will make a concession. We +will leave Dennis out of the reckoning. It shall be enough if you can +persuade the rest of us." + +"But," I urged, "I doubt, even so, whether Dennis will ever allow me +to get to the end. You see, he never lets things pass if he doesn't +happen to agree." + +"Oh," cried Ellis, "it's all right. We will keep him in order." + +Dennis laughed. "You're disposing of me," he said, "in a very easy +manner. But perhaps I had better go away altogether; for, if I stay, I +certainly cannot pledge myself not to interrupt." + +"No," I said, "that seems hardly fair. What I propose is, that we +should both try to be as conciliatory as we can. And then, by the +process of 'give and take,' I shall perhaps slip past you without any +really scandalous concession on either side." + +"Well," he said, "you can try." + +So, after casting about in my mind, I began, with some hesitation, as +follows: + +"The first thing, then, that I want to say is this: Good, as it seems +to me, necessarily involves some form of conscious activity." + +As I had expected, Dennis interrupted me at once. + +"I don't see that at all," he said. "Consciousness may have nothing to +do with it." + +"Perhaps, indeed, it may not," I replied, with all the suavity I could +command. "I should rather have said that I, as a matter of fact, can +form no idea of Good except in connection with consciousness." + +"Can you not?" he exclaimed, "but I can! If a thing is good it's good, +so it appears to me, whether or no there is any consciousness of it." + +"But," I said, "I, you see, myself, have no experience of anything +existing apart from consciousness, so it is difficult for me to +know whether such a thing would be good or no. But you, perhaps, are +differently constituted." + +"Not in that point," he replied. "I admit, of course, that there is no +experience without consciousness. But we can surely conceive that of +which we have no experience? And I should have thought it was clear +that Good, like Truth, _is_, whether or no anyone is aware of it. Or +would you say that 2 + 2 = 4 is only true when someone is thinking of +it?" + +"As to that," I replied, "I would rather not say anything about it +just now. On the logical point you may be right; but that, I think, +need not at present detain us, because what I am trying to get at, for +the moment, is something rather different. I will put it like this: +Good, if it is to be conceived as an object of human action, must be +conceived, must it not, as an object of consciousness? For otherwise +do you think we should trouble to pursue it?" + +"I don't know," he said, "whether we should; but perhaps we ought to." + +"But," I urged, "do you really think we ought? Do you think, to take +an example, that it could be a possible or a right aim for an +artist, say, to be perpetually producing, in a state of complete +unconsciousness, works which on completion should be immediately +hermetically sealed and buried for all eternity at the bottom of the +sea? Do you think that he could or ought to consider such production +as a Good? And so with all the works of man. Do we, and really ought +we to, do anything except with some reference to consciousness?" + +"I don't know whether we do," he replied, "but I think it quite +possible that we ought." + +"Well," I said, "we shall not, I suppose, just now, come to a closer +agreement But is there anyone else who shares your view? for, if not, +I will, with your permission, go on to the next point" + +None spoke, and Dennis made no further opposition. So, after a pause, +I proceeded as follows: "I shall assume, then, that Good, in the sense +in which I am conceiving it, as an end of human action, involves some +kind of conscious activity. And the next question would seem to be, +activity of whom?" + +"That, at any rate," said Leslie, "appears to be simple enough. It +must be an activity of some person or persons." + +"Once more," murmured Dennis, "I protest." + +But this time I ventured to ignore him, and merely said, in answer to +Leslie, "The question, then, will be, what persons?" + +"Why," he replied, "ourselves, I suppose!" + +"What do you say, Parry?" I asked. + +"I don't quite understand," he replied, "the kind of way you put your +questions. But my own idea has always been, what I suppose is most +people's now, that the Good we are working for is that of some future +generation." + +At this Leslie made some inarticulate interjection, which I thought +it better to ignore. And, answering Parry, I said, "Suppose, then, we +were to make a beginning by examining your hypothesis." + +"By all means," he said, "though I should have thought we should all +have accepted it--unless, perhaps, it were Dennis." + +"I most certainly don't!" cried Leslie. + +"Nor I," added Audubon. + +"Oh you!" cried Parry, "you accept nothing!" + +"True"; he replied, "my motto is 'j'attends.'" + +"Well," I resumed, "let us follow the argument and see where it leads +us. The hypothesis is, that Good involves some state of activity of +some generation indefinitely remote. Is not that so, Parry?" + +"Yes," he said, "and one can more or less define what the state of +activity, as you call it, will be." + +"Of course," interposed Ellis, "it will be one of heterogeneous, +co-ordinate, coherent----" + +"That," I interrupted, "is not at present the question. The question +is merely as to the location of Good. According to Parry, it is +located in this particular remote generation, and, I suppose, in those +that follow it. But now, what about all the other generations, from +the beginning of the world onward? Good, it would seem, can have no +meaning for them, since it is the special privilege of those who come +after them." + +"Oh, yes, it has!" he replied, "for it is their business to bring it +about, not indeed for themselves, but for their successors." + +"But," cried Leslie, "what an absurd idea! Countless myriads of men +and women are born upon the earth, live through their complex lives of +action and suffering, pleasure and pain, hopes, fears, satisfactions, +aspirations, and the like, pursuing what they call Good, and avoiding +what they call Bad, under the naïf impression that there is Good and +Bad for them--and yet the significance of all this is not really for +themselves at all, but for some quite other people who will have the +luck to be born in the remote future, and for whose sake alone their +fellow-creatures, from the very beginning of time, have been brought +into being like so many lifeless tools, to be used up and laid aside, +when done with, on the black infinite ash-heap of the dead." + +"Oh, come!" said Parry, "you exaggerate! These tools, as you call +them, have a good enough time. It does not follow, because the final +Good lies in the future, that the present has no Good at all. It has +just as much Good as people can get out of it." + +"But then," said Leslie, "in that case it is this Good of their own +with which each generation is really concerned. So far as they do get +Good at all they get it as an activity in themselves." + +"Certainly," said Ellis; "and for my own part, I am sick of that +cant of living for future generations. Let us, at least, live for +ourselves, whether we live well or badly." + +"Well," replied Parry, rather stiffly, "of course every one has his +own ideas. But I confess that, for my own part, the men I admire are +those who have sacrificed themselves for the future." + +"But, Parry," I interposed, "let us get clear about this; and with a +view to clearness let us take our own case. We, as I understand you, +have to keep in view a double Good: first, a Good for ourselves, which +is not indeed the perfect Good (for that is reserved for a future +generation), but still is something Good as far as it goes--whether +it be a certain degree of happiness, or however else we may have to +define it; and as to this Good, there appears to be no difficulty, +for we who pursue it are also the people who get it That is so, is it +not?" + +He agreed. + +"But now," I continued, "we come to the point of dispute. For besides +this Good of our own, we have also, according to the theory, to +consider a Good in which we have no share, that of those who are to be +born in some indefinite future. And to this remote and alien Good we +have even, on occasion, to sacrifice our own." + +"Certainly," he said, "all good citizens will think so." + +"I believe," I admitted, "that they will. And yet, how strange it +seems! For consider it in this way. Imagine that the successive +generations can somehow be viewed as contemporaneous--being projected, +as it were, from the plane of time into that of space." + +"It's rather hard," he said, "to imagine that." + +"Well, but try, for the sake of argument; and consider what we shall +have. We shall have a society divided into two classes, composed, the +one of all the generations who, if they followed one another in +time, would precede the first millenarian one; the other of all the +millenarian-generations themselves. And of these two classes the first +would be perpetually engaged in working for the second, sacrificing to +it, if need be, on occasion, all its own Good, but without any hope +or prospect of ever entering itself into that other Good which is the +monopoly of the other class, but to the production of which its own +efforts are directed. What should we say of such a society? Should we +not say that it was founded on injustice and inequality, and all those +other phrases with which we are wont to denounce a system of serfdom +or slavery?" + +"But," he objected, "your projection of time into space has falsified +the whole situation. For in fact the millenarian generation would not +come into being until the others had ceased to be; and therefore the +latter would not be being sacrificed to it." + +"No," I said, "but they would have been sacrificed; and surely it +comes to the same thing?" + +"I am not sure," he replied, "and anyhow, I don't think sacrifice is +the right word. In a society every man's interest is in the Whole; and +when he works for the Whole he is also working for himself." + +"No doubt that is true," I replied, "in a society properly +constituted, but I question whether it would be true in such a society +as I have described. And then there is a further difficulty--and here, +I confess, my projection of time into space really does falsify the +issue; for in the succession of generations in time, where _is_ the +Whole? Each generation comes into being, passes, and disappears; but +how, or in what, are they summed up?" + +"Why," he said, "in a sense they are all summed up in the last +generation." + +"But in what sense? Do you mean that their consciousness somehow +persists into it, so that they actually enjoy its Good?" + +"Of course not," he said, "but I mean that it was conditioned by them, +and is the result of their labour and activities." + +"In that sense," I replied, "you might say that the oysters I eat are +summed up in me. But it would be a poor consolation to the oysters!" + +"Well," he rejoined, "whatever you may say, I still think it right +that each generation should sacrifice itself (as you call it) for the +next. And so, I believe, would you, when it came to the point. At any +rate, I have often heard you inveigh against the shortsightedness of +modern politicians, and their unwillingness to run great risks and +undertake great labours for the future." + +"Quite true," I said, "that is the view I take. But I was trying to +see how the view could be justified. For it seems to me, I confess, +that we can only be expected to labour for what is, in some sense +or other, our own Good; and I do not see how the Good of future +generations, in your way of putting it, is also ours." + +"But," he said, "we have an instinct that it is." + +"I believe we have," I replied, "but the question would be, what that +instinct really means. Somehow or other, I think it must mean, as you +yourself suggested, that our Good is the Good of the Whole. Only the +difficulty is to see how there is a Whole at all." + +"Well," he said, "perhaps there is no Whole. What then?" + +"Why, then," I replied, "how can we justify an instinct which bids us +labour and sacrifice ourselves for a Good, which, on this hypothesis, +has no significance for us, but only for other people." + +"Perhaps," he said, "we cannot justify it, but I am sure we ought to +obey it; and, indeed, I believe we cannot do otherwise. Even taking +the view that the order of the world is altogether unjust, as I admit +it would be on the view we are considering, yet, since we cannot +remedy the injustice, we are bound at least to make the best of it; +and the best we can do is to prepare the Good for those who come after +us, even though we can never enter into it ourselves." + +"I am not so sure about that," Ellis interrupted, "I think the best +we can do is to try and realize Good for ourselves--as much as we +can get, even if we admit that this is but little. For we do at least +know, or may hope to discover, what Good for ourselves is; whereas +Good for other people is far more hypothetical." + +"But, surely," he objected, "that would lead to action we cannot +approve--to a sacrifice of all larger Goods to our own pleasure of the +moment. We should breed, for example, without any regard to the future +efficacy of the race----" + +"That," interrupted Ellis, "we do as it is." + +"Yes, but we don't justify it--those of us, at least, who think. And, +again, we should squander on immediate gratifications wealth which +ought to be stored up against the future. And so on, and so on; it is +not necessary to multiply examples." + +"But," I objected, "we should only do these things if we thought that +kind of short-sighted activity to be good; but, as a matter of fact, +we do not, we who object to it. And that is because, as I hinted +before, our idea of even our own Good is that of an activity in and +for the Whole, and not merely in and for ourselves. And, whether it is +reasonable or no, we cannot help extending the idea of the Whole, so +as to include future generations. But, as it seems to me, the real +meaning and justification of our action is not merely that we are +seeking the Good of future generations but that we are endeavouring to +realize our own Good, which consists in some such form of activity. So +that really, as was suggested at the beginning, Good will be a kind of +activity in ourselves, even though that activity be directed towards +ends in which we do not expect to share." + +At this point, Dennis, who had been struggling to speak, broke in at +last, in spite of Ellis's efforts to restrain him. + +"Why do you keep saying '_Our_ Good'?" he cried. "Why do you not say +_the_ Good? I can't understand this talk of me and thee, our Good, and +their Good, as if there were as many Goods as there are people." + +"Well," I said, "the distinction, after all, was introduced by Parry, +who said that we ought to aim at the Good of a future generation. +Still, I admit that I was getting a little unhappy myself at the kind +of language into which I was betrayed. But what I want to say is +this: So far as it is true at all that it is good to labour for future +generations, goodness consists in the activity of so labouring, as +much, at least, as in the result produced in those for whose sake the +labour is. That, at least, is the only way in which I can find the +position reasonable at all." + +"I don't see it," said Parry, and was preparing to re-state his +position, when Wilson suddenly intervened with a new train of thought. + +"The fact is," he said, "you have begun altogether at the wrong end." + +"I daresay," I said, "I can't find the end; it's all such a coil." + +"Well," he said, "this is where I believe the trouble came in. You +started with the idea that the Good must be good for individuals; and +that was sure to land you in confusion." + +"What then is your idea?" I asked. + +"Why," he said, "as you might expect from a biologist, I regard +everything from the point of view of the species." + +At this I saw Ellis sit up and prepare for an encounter. + +"Nature," continued Wilson, "has always in view the Whole not the +Part, the species not the individual. And this law, which is true of +the whole creation, is thrown into special relief in the case of man, +because there the interest of the species is embodied in a particular +form--the Society or the State--and may be clearly envisaged, as a +thing apart, towards the maintenance of which conscious efforts may be +directed." + +"And this, which is the end of Nature, according to you, is also the +Good?" + +"Naturally." + +"Well," I said, "I will not recapitulate here the objections I have +already urged against the view that the course of Nature determines +the content of the Good. For, quite apart from that, it is a view +which many people hold--and one which was held long before there was a +science of biology--that the community is the end, and the individual +only the means." + +"But," he said, "biology has given a new basis and a new colour to the +view." + +"I don't know about that," cried Ellis, unable any longer to restrain +himself, "but I am sure it has given us a new kind of language. In +the old days, when Wilson's opinion was represented by Plato, men +were still men, and were spoken of as such, however much they might be +subordinated to the community. But now!--why, if you open one of these +sociological books, mostly, I am bound to say, in German, 'Entwurf +einer Sozial-anthropologie,' 'Versuch einer anthropologischen +Darstellung der menschlichen Gesellschaft vom Sozial-biologischen +Standpunkt aus,' and the like--you will hardly be able to realize that +you are dealing with human beings at all. I have seen an unmarried +woman called a 'female non-childbearing human.' And at the worst, men +actually cease to be even animals; they become mere numbers; they are +calculated by the theory of combinations; they are masses, averages, +classes, curves, anything but men! For every million of the +population, it has been solemnly estimated, there will be one genius, +one imbecile, 256,791 individuals just above the mean, 256,791 just +below it! Observe, 256,791! Not, as one might have been tempted to +believe, 256,790! What a saving grace in that odd unit! And this is +the kind of thing that is revolutionizing history and politics! +No more great men, no more heroic actions, no more inspirations, +passions, and ideals! Nothing but calculations of the chances that A +will meet and breed out of B! Nothing but analysis of the mechanism of +survival! Nothing but----" + +"My dear Ellis," interrupted Wilson, "you appear to me to be +digressing." + +"Digressing!" he cried "Would that I could digress out of this world +altogether! Would that I could digress to a planet where they have no +arithmetic! Where a man could be a man, not a figure in an addition +sum, a unit in an average, an individual in a species----" + +"Where," exclaimed Audubon, taking him up, "a man could be himself, as +I have often said, 'imperial, plain, and true.'" + +There was a chorus of protestation at the too familiar quotation; +and for a time I was unable to lay hold of the broken thread of the +argument. But at last I got a hearing for the question I was anxious +to address to Wilson. + +"You say," I began, "that by Good we mean the Good of the community?" + +"I say," he replied, "that that is what we ought to mean." + +"But in what sense do you understand the word community?" + +"In the sense of that organization of individuals which represents, so +to speak, the species." + +"How represents?" + +"In the sense that it is its function to maintain and perfect the +species." + +"But is that the function of the community?" + +"If it is not, it ought to be; and to a great extent it is. If you +look at the social mechanism, not with the eyes of a mere historian, +who usually sees nothing, but with those of a biologist and man of +science, intent upon essentials, you will find that it is nothing but +an elaborate apparatus of selection, natural or artificial, as you +like to call it. First, there is the struggle of races, which may be +traced not only in war and conquest, but more insidiously under the +guise of peace, so that, for example, at this day you may witness +throughout Europe the gradual extinction of the long-headed fair by +the round-headed dark stock. Then there is the struggle of nation with +nation, resulting in the gradual elimination of the weaker--that, of +course, is obvious enough; but what is not always so clearly seen is +the not less certain fact, that within the limits of each society the +same process is everywhere at work. To pass over the economic struggle +for existence, of which we are perhaps sufficiently aware, what else +is our system of examinations but a mechanism of selection, whereby it +is determined that certain persons only shall have access to certain +professions? What else is the convention whereby marriages are +confined to people of the same class, thus securing the perpetuation +of certain types, and especially of the better-gifted and +better-disposed? Turn where we may we find the same phenomenon. +Society is a machine for sifting out the various elements of the race, +combining the like, disparting the unlike, bringing some to the top, +others to the bottom, preserving these, eliminating those, indifferent +to the fate, good or bad, of the individuals it controls, but +envisaging always the well-being of the Whole." + +"But," I objected, "is it so certain that it is well-being that is +kept in view? Do you not recognize a process of deterioration as well +as of improvement? You mentioned, for instance, that the long-headed +fair race, is giving place to what I understand is regarded as an +inferior type." + +"No doubt," he admitted, "there are periods of decline. Still, on the +whole, the movement is an upward one." + +"Well," I replied, "that, after all, is not the question we are at +present discussing. Your main point is, that when we speak of Good +we mean, or should mean, the Good, not of the individual, but of +the species. But what, I should like to know, is the species? Is it +somehow an entity, or being, that it has a Good?" + +"No," he replied, "it is merely, of course, a general name for the +individuals; only for all the individuals taken together, not one by +one or in groups." + +"The Good of the species, then, is the Good of all the individuals +taken together." + +"Yes." + +"But" I said, "how can that be? It is good for the species, according +to you, that certain individuals should be eliminated, or should sink +to the bottom, or whatever else their fate may be. But is that also +good for the individual in question?" + +"I don't know about that," he replied, "and I don't see that it +matters. I only say that it is good for the species." + +"But they are part of the species; so that if it is good for the +species it is good for them." + +"No! for the Good of the species consists in the selection of the best +individuals. It is indifferent to all the rest" + +"Then by the Good of the species you mean the good of the selected +individuals?" + +"Not exactly; I mean it is good that those individuals should be +selected." + +"But good for whom, if not for them? For the individuals who are +eliminated? Or for you who look on? Or perhaps, for God?" + +"God! No! I mean good, simply good." + +"I'm afraid I don't understand," I said. "Does Good then hang, as it +were, in the air, being Good for nobody at all?" + +"Well, if you like, we will say it is good for Nature." + +"But is Nature, then, a conscious being?" + +"I don't say that" + +"I am very sorry," I said, "but really I cannot understand you. If you +reject God, I see only two alternatives remaining. Either the Good you +speak of is that of all the individuals of the species taken together, +or it is that of the best individuals; and in either case I seem to +see difficulties." + +"What difficulties?" asked Parry. For Wilson did not speak. + +"Why," I said, "taking the first alternative, I do not see how it can +be good for the inferior individuals to be degraded or eliminated. I +should have thought, if there were any Good for them, it would consist +in their being made better." + +"I don't see that," objected Dennis; "it might be the best possible +thing, for them, to be eliminated." + +"But in that case," I said, "the best possible thing would be absence +of Bad, not Good. And so far as we could talk of Good at all, we could +not apply it to them?" + +"Perhaps not" + +"Well then, in that case we have to fall back upon the other +alternative, and say that by the Good of the species we mean that of +the ultimately selected individuals." + +"Well, what then?" + +"Why, then, we return, do we not, to the position of Parry, that the +Good is that of some particular generation? And there, too, we were +met by difficulties. So that altogether I do not really see what +meaning to attach to Wilson's conception." + +"There is no meaning to be attached to it!" cried Ellis. "The species +is a mere screen invented to conceal the massacre of individuals. +I'm sick of these biologico-sociologico-anthropologico-historico +treatises, with their talk of races, of nations, of classes, never of +men! their prate about laws as if they were the real entities, and +the people who are supposed to be subject to them mere indifferent +particles of stuff! their analysis of the perfection with which the +machine works, its combinations, differentiations, subordinations, +co-ordinations, and all the other abominations of desolations +standing where they ought not, as depressing to the mind as they are +cacophonous to the ear! and, worst of all, their impudent demand that +we should admire the diabolical process! Admire! As though we should +be asked to admire the beauty of the rack and the thumbscrew!" + +"It's a matter of taste, no doubt," said Wilson, "but in me the +spectacle of natural law does awaken feelings of admiration." + +"In me," replied Ellis, "it awakens, just as often, feelings of +disgust, and especially when its theatre is human life." + +"At any rate, whether you admire it or not, the spectacle is there." + +"No doubt, if you choose to look at it; but why should you? It's not +a good drama; it isn't up to date; it has no first-hand knowledge, nor +original vision of life. It simply ignores all the important facts." + +"Which do you call the important facts?" + +"Why, of course, the emotions; the hopes, fears, aspirations, +sympathies and the rest! There's more valuable information contained +in even an inferior novel that in all the sociological treatises that +ever have been or will be written." + +"Oh, come!" cried Parry. + +"I assure you," replied Ellis, "I am serious. Take, for example, +these unfortunate creatures who are in process of elimination. To +the sociologist their elimination is their only _raison d'être_. He +cancels them out with the same delight as if they were figures in a +complex fraction. But pick up any novel dealing with the life of +the slums, and you find that these figures are really composed of +innumerable individual units, existing each for himself, and each his +own sufficient justification, each a sacred book comprising its own +unique secret, a master-piece of the divine tragedian, a universe +self-moved and self-contained, a centre of infinity, a mirror of +totality, in a word, a human soul." + +"All that I altogether deny," said Wilson, "but, even if it were true, +it would not affect the sociological laws." + +"I don't say it would. I only say that the sociological laws are as +unimportant, if possible, as the law of gravitation." + +"Which," replied Wilson, "may be regarded as a _reductio ad absurdum_ +of your view." + +"Anyhow," I interposed, "we are digressing from our point. What I +really want to know is whether Wilson has any more light to throw on +my difficulties with regard to his notion of the species." + +"I have nothing more to say," he replied, "than I have said already." + +"But I have!" cried Dennis, "and something very much to the point. +You see now the absurdities into which you are led by the position +you insisted on assuming, that Good involves conscious activity. If +it does, as you rightly inquired (though with a suicidal audacity), +conscious activity in whom? And to that question, of course, you can +find no answer." + +"And yet," I said, endeavouring to turn the tables upon him, "I have +known you to maintain yourself that Good not merely involves, but is, +a conscious activity; only an activity in or of God." + +"Rather," he replied, "that it _is_ God. But I don't really know +whether we ought to call God a conscious activity. Whatever He or It +be, is something that transcends our imagination. Only the things we +call good are somehow reflexes of God; and we have to accept them +as such without further inquiry. At any rate, we have no right to +endeavour, as you keep doing, to locate Good in some individual +persons." + +"Well," I said, "here we come again to a fundamental difference +of view. All the Good of which I am aware as actually existing is +associated, somehow or other, with personal consciousness. I am +willing to admit, for the sake of argument, that the ultimate Good, if +ever we come to know it, might, perhaps, not be so associated. But of +that, as yet, I know nothing; you, perhaps, are more fortunate. And if +you can give us an account of Good, I mean, of course, of its content, +which shall represent it intelligibly to us as independent of any +consciousness like our own, I am quite ready to relinquish the +argument to you." + +"I don't know," he replied, "that I can represent It to you in a way +that you would admit to be intelligible. I don't profess to have had +what you call 'experience' of it." + +"Well, then," said Ellis, "what's the good of talking?" + +"What, indeed!" I echoed, in some despondency. For I began to feel it +was impossible to carry on the conversation. But at this point, to my +great relief, Bartlett came to the rescue, not indeed with a solution +of the difficulty in which we were involved, but with a diversion of +which I was only too glad to take advantage. + +"It seems to me," he said, "that you are getting off the track! +Whatever the ultimate Good may be, what we really want to know, is the +kind of thing we can conceive to be good for people like ourselves. +And I thought that was what you were going to discuss." + +"So I was," I said, "if Dennis would have let me." + +"I will let you, by all means," Dennis interposed, "so long as it is +quite understood that everything you say has nothing to do with the +real subject." + +"Very well," said Bartlett, "that's understood. And now let's get +along, on the basis of you and me and the man in the street. What are +we trying to get, when we try to get Good? That I take it is the real +question." + +"And I can only answer," I said, "as I did before, that we are +trying to get some state of conscious experience, to enter into some +activity." + +"Very well, then, what activity?" he inquired, catching me up sharp, +as if he were afraid of Dennis interposing again. + +"What activity!" cried Ellis, "why all and every one as much as +another, and the more the merrier." + +"What!" I exclaimed, rather taken aback, "all at once do you mean? +whether they be good or whether they be bad, all alike indifferently?" + +"There are no bad activities," he replied, "none bad essentially in +themselves. Their goodness and badness depends on the way in which +they are interchanged or combined. Any pursuit or occupation palls in +time if it is followed exclusively; but all may be delightful in the +just measure and proportion. We are complex creatures, and we ought to +employ all our faculties alike, never one alone at the cost of all the +others." + +"That may be sound enough," I said, "but will you not describe more in +detail the kind of life which you consider to be good?" + +"How can I?" he replied. "It is like trying to sum infinity! The most +I can do is to hint and rhapsodize." + +"Hint away, then!" cried Parry; "rhapsodize away! we're all +listening." + +"Well, then," he said, "my ideal of the good life would be to move in +a cycle of ever-changing activity, tasting to the full the peculiar +flavour of each new phase in the shock of its contrast with that of +all the rest. To pass, let us say, from the city with all its bustle, +smoke, and din, its press of business, gaiety, and crime, straight +away, without word or warning, breaking all engagements, to the +farthest and loneliest corner of the world. To hunt or fish for weeks +and months in strange wild places, camping out among strange beasts +and birds, lost in pathless forests, or wandering over silent plains. +Then, suddenly, back in the crowd, to feel the press of business, to +make or lose millions in a week, to adventure, compete, and win; but +always, at the moment when this might pall, with a haven of rest +in view, an ancient English mansion, stately, formal, and august, +islanded, over its sunken fence, by acres of buttercups. There to +study, perhaps to write, perhaps to experiment, dreaming in my garden +at night of new discoveries, to revolutionize science and bring the +world of commerce to my feet. Then, before I have time to tire, to be +off on my travels again, washing gold in Klondike, trading for furs +in Siberia, fighting in Madagascar, in Cuba, or in Crete, or smoking +hasheesh in tents with Persian mystics. To make my end action itself, +not anything action may gain, choosing not to pursue the Good for fear +I should let slip Goods, but, in my pursuit of Goods, attaining the +only Good I can conceive--a full and harmonious exercise of all my +faculties and powers." + +On hearing him speak thus I felt, I confess, such a warmth of sympathy +that I hesitated to attempt an answer. But Leslie, who was young +enough still to live mainly in ideas, broke in with his usual zeal and +passion. + +"But," he said, "all this activity of which you speak is no more +good than it is bad; every phase of it, by your own confession, is so +imperfect in itself that it requires to be constantly exchanged for +some other, equally defective." + +"Not at all," answered Ellis, "each phase is good in its time and +place; but each becomes bad if it is pursued exclusively to the +detriment of others." + +"But is each good in itself? or, at least, is it more good than bad? +You choose, in imagination, to dwell upon the good aspect of each; but +in practice you would have to experience also the bad. Your hunting +in trackless forests will involve exposure, fatigue, and hunger; your +fighting in Madagascar, fever, wounds, and disillusionment; and so +through all your chapter of accidents--for accidents they are at best, +and never the substance of Good; rather, indeed, a substance of Evil, +dogged by a shadow of Good." + +"Oh!" cried Ellis, "what a horrid prosaic view--from an idealist, too! +Why, the Bad is all part of the Good; one takes the rough with the +smooth. Or rather the Good stands above what you call good and bad; it +consists in the activity itself which feeds upon both alike. If I were +Dennis I should say it is the synthesis of both." + +"Well," said Leslie, "I never heard before of a synthesis produced by +one side of the antithesis simply swallowing the other." + +"Didn't you?" said Ellis. "Then you have a great deal yet to learn. +This is known as the synthesis of the lion and the lamb." + +"Oh, synthesis!" cried Parry. "Heaven save us from synthesis! What is +it you are trying to say?" + +"That's what I want to know," I said "We seem to be coming perilously +near to Dennis's position, that what we call Evil is mere appearance." + +"Well," said Ellis, "extremes meet! Dennis arrived at his view by a +denial of the world; I arrive at mine by an affirmation of it." + +"But do you really think," I urged, "that everything in the world is +good?" + +"I think," he replied, "that everything may be made to minister to +Good if you approach it in the proper way." + +"That reads," said Audubon, "like an extract from a sermon." + +"As I remarked before," replied Ellis, "extremes meet" + +"But, Ellis," I protested, "do explain! How are you going to answer +Leslie?" + +"Leslie is really too young," he replied, "to be answerable at all. +But if you insist on my being serious, what I meant to suggest is, +that when our activity is freshest and keenest we find delight in what +is called Evil no less than in what is called Good. The complexity of +the world charms us, its 'downs' as well as its 'ups,' its abysses +and glooms no less than its sunny levels. We would not alter it if we +could; it is better than we could make it; and we accept it not merely +with acquiescence but with triumph." + +"Oh, do we!" said Audubon. + +"We," answered Ellis, "not you! You, of course, do not accept +anything." + +"But who are 'we'?" asked Leslie. + +"All of us," he replied, "who try to make an art of living. Yes, art, +that is the word! To me life appears like a great tragi-comedy. It has +its shadows as well as its lights, but we would not lose one of them, +for fear of destroying the harmony of the whole. Call it good, or call +it bad, no matter, so it is. The villain no less than the hero claims +our applause; it would be dull without him. We can't afford to miss +anything or anyone." + +"In fact," cried Audubon, "'Konx Ompax! Totality!' You and Dennis are +strangely agreed for once!" + +"Yes," he replied, "but for very different reasons, as the judge said +on the one occasion when he concurred with his colleagues. Dennis +accepts the Whole because he finds it a perfect logical system; I, +because I find it a perfect work of art. His prophet is Hegel; mine is +Walt Whitman." + +"Walt Whitman! And you profess to be an artist!" + +"So was he, not in words but in life. One thing to him was no better +nor worse than another; small and great, high and low, good and +bad, he accepts them all, with the instinctive delight of an actual +physical contact. Listen to him!" And he began to quote: + + "I do not call one greater and one smaller, + That which fills its period and place is equal to any. + I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars. + And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of + the wren, + And the tree-toad is a 'chef-d'oeuvre' for the highest; + And the running blackberry would adorn the parlours of heaven, + And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery, + And the cow-crunching with depressed head surpasses any statue, + And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels." + +"That's all very well," objected Leslie, "though, of course, it's +rather absurd; but it does not touch the question of evil at all." + +"Wait a bit," cried Ellis, "he's ready for you there." + + "I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of + wickedness also. + What blurt is this about virtue and about vice? + Evil propels me and reform of evil propels me, I stand indifferent, + My gait is no fault-finder's or rejector's gait, + I moisten the roots of all that grows." + + * * * * * + + "This is the meal equally set, this is the meat for natural hunger, + It is for the wicked just the same as the righteous, I make appointment + with all, + I will not have a single person slighted or kept away, + The kept-woman, spunger, thief are hereby invited, + The heavy-lipped slave is invited, the venerealee is invited; + There shall be no difference between them and the rest." + +"That's rather strong," remarked Parry. + +"Don't you like it?" Ellis inquired. + +"I think I might like it if I were drunk." + +"Ah, but a poet, you see, is always drunk!" + +'Well, I unfortunately, am often sober; and then I find the sponger +and the venerealee anything but agreeable objects." + +"Besides," said Audubon, "though it's very good of Walt Whitman to +invite us all, the mere fact of dining with him, however miscellaneous +the company, doesn't alter the character of the dinner." + +"No," cried Leslie, "and that's just the point Ellis has missed all +through. Even if it be true that the world appears to him as a work of +art, it doesn't appear so to the personages of the drama. What's play +to him is grim earnest to them; and, what's more, he himself is an +actor not a mere spectator, and may have that fact brought home to +him, any moment, in his flesh and blood." + +"Of course!" replied Ellis, "and I wouldn't have it otherwise. The +point of the position is that one should play one's part oneself, +but play it as an artist with one's eye upon the total effect, never +complaining of Evil merely because one happens to suffer, but taking +the suffering itself as an element in the æsthetic perfection of the +Whole." + +"I should like to see you doing that," said Bartlett, rather brutally, +"when you were down with a fit of yellow fever." + +"Or shut up in a mad-house," said Leslie. + +"Or working eight hours a day at business," said Audubon, "with the +thermometer 100 degrees in the shade." + +"Oh well," answered Ellis, "those are the confounded accidents of our +unhealthy habits of life." + +"I am afraid," I said, "they are accidents very essential to the +substance of the world." + +"Besides," cried Parry, "there's the whole moral question, which you +seem to ignore altogether. If there be any activity that is good, +it must be, I suppose, the one that is right; and the activity you +describe seems to have nothing to do with right and wrong." + +"Right and wrong! Right and wrong!" echoed Ellis, + + "Das hör ich sechzlg Jahre wiederholen, + Ich fluche drauf, aber verstohlen." + +"You may curse as much as you like," replied Parry, "but you can +hardly deny that there is an intimate connection between Good and +Right." + +Instead of replying Ellis began to whistle; so I took up Parry's point +and said, "Yes, but what is the connection? My own idea is that Right +is really a means to Good. And I should separate off all activity +that is merely a means from that which is really an end in itself, and +good." + +"But is there any activity," objected Leslie, "which is not merely a +means?" + +"Oh yes," I said, "I should have thought so. Most men, it seems to +me, are well enough content with what they are doing for its own sake; +even though at the same time they have remoter ends in view, and if +these were cut off would cease, perhaps, to take pleasure in the work +of the moment. The attitude is not very logical, perhaps, but I think +it is very common. Why else is it that men who believe and maintain +that they only work in order to make money, nevertheless are so +unwilling to retire when the money is made; or, if they do, are so +often dissatisfied and unhappy?" + +"Oh," said Audubon, "that is only because boredom is worse than pain. +It is not that they find any satisfaction in their work; it's only +that they find even greater distress in idleness." + +"But, surely," I replied, "even you yourself would hardly maintain +that there is nothing men do for its own sake, and because they take +delight in it. If there were nothing else at least there is play--and +I have known you play cricket yourself!" + +"Known him play cricket!" cried Ellis. "Why, if he had his way, he +would do nothing else, except at the times when he was riding or +shooting." + +"Well," I said, "that's enough, for the moment, to refute him. And, in +fact, I suppose none of us would seriously maintain that there is no +form of activity which men feel to be good for its own sake, though +the Good of course may be partial and precarious." + +"No," said Ellis, "I should rather inquire whether there is any form +which they pursue merely and exclusively as a means to something +else." + +"Oh, surely!" I said. "One might mention, for instance, the act of +visiting the dentist. Or what is more important, and what, I suppose, +Parry had in his mind, there is the whole class of activities which +one distinguishes as moral." + +"Do you mean to say," said Parry, "that moral action has no Good in +itself but is only a means to some other Good?" + +"I don't know," I replied; "I am rather inclined to think so. But it +all depends upon how we define it." + +"And how do you define it?" + +"I should say that its specific quality consists in the refusal to +seize some immediate and inferior Good with a view to the attainment +of one that is remoter but higher." + +"Oh, well, of course," cried Leslie, "if you define it so, your +proposition follows of itself." + +"So I thought," I said. "But how would you define it?" + +"I should say it is a free and perfect activity in Good." + +"In that case, it is of course the very activity we are in quest of, +and we should come upon it, if we were successful, at the end of our +inquiry. But I was supposing that the essence of morality is expressed +in the word 'ought'; and in that I take to be implied the definition +I suggested--namely, action pursued not for its own sake, but for the +sake of something else." + +"Oh, oh!" cried Dennis, "there I really must protest! I've kept silent +as long as I possibly could; but when it comes to describing as a mere +means the only kind of activity which is an end in itself----" + +"The only kind that is an end in itself!" I repeated, in some dismay. +"Is that really what you think?" + +"Of course it is! why not?" + +"I don't know. I have always supposed that, when we are doing what we +ought, we are acting with a view to some ultimate Good." + +"Well, I, on the contrary, believe that we ought absolutely, without +reference to anything else. It is a unique form of activity, dependent +on nothing but itself; and for anything we have yet shown, it may be +the Good we are in quest of." + +This suggestion, unexpected as it was, threw me into great perplexity. +I did not see exactly how to meet it; yet it awakened no response in +me, nor as I thought In any of the others. But while I was hesitating, +Leslie began: + +"Do you mean that the Good might consist simply in doing what we +ought, without any other accompaniment or conditions?" + +"Yes, I think it might." + +"So that, for example, a man might be in possession of the Good, even +while he was being racked or burnt alive, so long only as he was doing +what he ought" + +"Yes, I suppose he might be." + +"It's a trifle paradoxical," said Ellis. + +"In fact," added Bartlett, "it might be called nonsense." + +"I don't see why," replied Dennis; "for we haven't yet shown that the +Good is dependent on the things we call good." + +"No," I said, "but we did show--or at least for the time being we +agreed to admit--that it must have some relation to what we call +goods; that they do somehow or other, and more or less, express +its nature; and indeed our whole present inquiry is based upon the +hypothesis that it is by examining goods that we may get to know +something about the Good. So that I do not see how we can entertain an +idea of Good which flatly contradicts all our experience of goods." + +"Well," said Dennis, "I ought perhaps to modify the position. Let us +say that the Good consists in the activity of doing what we ought, +only that activity can't exist in its true perfection unless everybody +participates in it at once. But if everybody participated in it, +there would be no more burnings; and so Leslie's difficulty would not +arise." + +"Well," I said, "the modification is very radical! But even so, I +don't know what to make of the position. For it is very difficult to +conceive a society perpetually and exclusively occupied, so to speak, +in 'oughting.' Just imagine the kind of life It would be--without +pleasure, without business, without knowledge, without anything at all +analogous to what we call good, purged wholly and completely of all +that might taint the purity of the moral sense, of philanthropy, of +friendship, of love, even, I suppose, of the love of virtue, a life +simply of obligation, without anything to be obliged to except a law." + +"But," he protested, "you are taking an absurd and impossible case." + +"I am taking the case which you yourself put, when you said that Good +consisted simply in doing what one ought, independently of all other +accompaniment or condition. But perhaps that is not what you really +meant?" + +"No," he said; "of course, what I meant was that it is life according +to the moral law that is Good; but I did not intend to separate the +law from the life, and call it Good all by itself." + +"But is the life the better for the law, in the sense, I mean, in +which law involves constraint? Or would it not be better still if the +same life were pursued freely for its own sake?" + +"Perhaps so." + +"But, then, in that case, the more we realized Good the less we should +be aware of obligation. And would a life without conscious and felt +obligation be a life specifically ethical, in the sense in which you +seemed to be using the word?" + +"I should think not; for 'ought' in the ethical sense does certainly +seem to me to involve the idea of obligation." + +"In that case it would seem to be truer to say that activity is Good, +not in so far as it is ethical but precisely in so far as it is not. +At any rate, I should maintain that we come nearer to a realization +of Good in the activities which we pursue without effort or friction, +than in those which involve a struggle between duty and inclination." + +"But the activities we pursue without effort or friction often enough +are bad." + +"No doubt; but some of them are good, and it is to those I should look +for the best idea I could form of what Good might be." + +"Well," he said, "go on! Once more I have entered my protest; and now +I leave the road clear." + +"The worst of you is," said Ellis, "that you always turn up in front! +When we think we have passed you once for all, you take a short cut +across the fields, and there you are in the middle of the road, with +the same old story, that we're altogether on the wrong track." + +"Well," said Dennis, sententiously, "I do my duty." + +"And," replied Ellis, "no doubt you have your reward! Proceed!" he +continued, turning to me. + +"Well," I said, "I suppose I must try to go through to the end, +though these tactics of Dennis make me very nervous. I shall suppose, +however, that I have convinced him that it is not in ethical activity +as such that we can expect to find the most perfect example of Good. +And now I propose to examine in turn some other of our activities, +starting with that which seems to be the most primitive of all." + +"And which is that?" + +"I was thinking of the activity of our bodily senses, our direct +contact, so to speak, with objects, without the intermediation of +reflection, through the touch, the sight, the hearing, and the rest. +Is there anything in all this which we could call good?" + +"Is there anything!" cried Ellis. "What a question to ask!" And he +broke out with the lines from Browning's "Saul": + + "Oh, the wild joys of living! the leaping from rock up to rock, + The strong rending of boughs from the fir-tree, the cool silver shock + Of the plunge in a pool's living water, the hunt of the bear, + And the sultriness showing the lion is couched in his lair. + And the meal, the rich dates yellowed over with gold dust divine, + And the locust-flesh steeped in the pitcher, the full draught of wine, + And the sleep in the dried river-channel where bulrushes tell + That the water was wont to go warbling so softly and well. + How good is man's life, the mere living! how fit to employ + All the heart and the soul and the senses for ever in joy." + +The quotation seemed to loosen all tongues; and there followed a flood +of such talk as may be heard in almost every company of Englishmen, +in praise of sport and physical exercise, touched with a sentiment +not far removed from poetry--the only poetry of which they are not +half-ashamed. Audubon even joined in, forgetting for the moment his +customary pose, and rhapsodizing with the rest over his favourite +pursuits of snipe-shooting and cricket. Much of this talk was lost +upon me, for I am nothing of a sportsman; but some touches there were +that recalled experiences of my own, and for that reason, I suppose, +have lingered in my memory. Thus, I recollect, some one spoke of +skating on Derwentwater, the miles of black, virgin ice, the ringing +and roaring of the skates, the sunset glow, and the moon rising full +over the mountains; and another recalled a bathe on the shore of +Ægina, the sun on the rocks and the hot scent of the firs, as though +the whole naked body were plunged in some æthereal liqueur, drinking +it in with every sense and at every pore, like a great sponge of sheer +sensation. After some minutes of this talk, as I still sat silent, +Ellis turned to me with the appeal, "But what about you, who are +supposed to be our protagonist? Here are we all rhapsodizing and you +sit silent. Have you nothing to contribute to your own theme?" + +"Oh," I replied, "any experiences of mine would be so trivial they +would be hardly worth recording. The most that could be said of them +would be that they might, perhaps, illustrate more exactly than yours +what one might call the pure Goods of sense. For, as far as I can +understand, the delights you have been describing are really very +complex. In addition to pleasures of mere sensation, there is clearly +an æsthetic charm--you kept speaking of heather and sunrises, and +colours and wide prospects; and then there is the satisfaction you +evidently feel in skill, acquiring or acquired, and in the knowledge +you possess of the habits of beasts and birds. All this, of course, +goes beyond the delight of simple sense perception, though, no doubt, +inextricably bound up with it But what I was thinking of at first was +something less complex and more elementary in which, nevertheless, +I think we can detect Good--Good of sheer unadulterated sensation. +Think, for example, of the joys of a cold bath when one is dusty and +hot! You will laugh at me, but sometimes when I have felt the +water pouring down my back I have shouted to myself in my tub 'nunc +dimittis.'" + +They burst out laughing, and Ellis cried: + +"You gross sensualist! And to think of all this being concealed behind +that masque of austere philosophy!" + +Then they set off again In praise of the delights of such simple +sensations, and especially of those of the palate, instancing, I +remember, the famous tale about Keats--how he covered his tongue +and throat with cayenne pepper that he might enjoy, as he said, "the +delicious coolness of claret in all its glory." And when this had +gone on for some time, "Perhaps enough has been said," I began, "to +illustrate this particular kind of Good. We have, I think, recognized +to the full its merits; and we shall be equally ready, I suppose, to +recognize its defects." + +"I don't know about that," said Ellis. "I, for my part, at any rate, +shall be very loth to dwell upon them. I sometimes think these are the +only pure Goods." + +"But at least," I replied, "you will admit that they are precarious. +It is only at moments, and at moments that come and go without choice +of ours, that this harmonious relation becomes established between our +senses and the outer world. The very same things which at such times +appear to be perfectly at one with ourselves, as if they had been made +for us and we for them, we see and feel to have also a nature not only +distinct but even alien and hostile to our own. The water which cools +our skin and quenches our thirst also drowns; the fire which warms +and comforts also burns; and so on through all the chapter--I need not +weary you with details. Nature, you will agree, not only ministers to +our bodies, she torments and destroys them; she is our foe in ways at +least as varied and efficacious as she is our friend." + +"But," objected Ellis, "that is only because we don't treat her +properly; we have to learn how to manage her." + +"Perhaps," I replied, "though I should prefer to say, we have to learn +how to fight and subdue her. But in any case we have laid our finger +here upon a defect in this first kind of Goods--they are, as I said, +precarious. And the discovery of that fact, one might say, was the +sword of the angel that drove man out of his imaginary Eden. For +at first we may suppose him, (if Wilson will permit me to romance +a little,) seizing every delight as it offered itself, under an +instinctive impression that there were nothing but delights to be +met with, eating when he was hungry, drinking when he was thirsty, +sleeping when he was tired, and so on, in unquestioning trust of +his natural impulses. But then, as he learnt by experience how evil +follows good, and pleasure often enough is bought by pain, he would +begin, would he not, instead of simply accepting Good where it is, to +endeavour to create it where it is not, sacrificing often enough the +present to the future, and rejecting many immediate delights for the +sake of those more remote? And this involves a complete change in his +attitude; for he is endeavouring now to establish by his own effort +that harmony between himself and the world which he fondly hoped at +first was immediately given." + +"But," objected Wilson, "he never did hope anything of the kind. This +reconstruction of the past is all imaginary." + +"I dare say it may be," I replied, "but that is of little consequence, +if it helps us to seize our point more clearly; for we are not at +present writing history. Man, then, we will suppose, is thus set out +upon what is, whether he knows it or not, his quest to create, since +he is unable to find ready-made, a world of objects harmonious to +himself. But in this quest has he been, should you say, successful?" + +"More or less, I suppose," answered Parry, "for he is progressively +satisfying his needs, even if they are never completely satisfied." + +"Perhaps," I replied, "though I sometimes have my doubts. The relation +of man to nature, I have thought, is very strange and obscure. It +is as though he began with the idea that he had only to remove a few +blemishes from her face to make her completely accordant with +his desire. But no sooner has he gone to work than these surface +blemishes, as he thought them, prove to have roots deeper than all +his probings; the more he cuts away the more he exposes of an element +radically alien to himself, terrible and incomprehensible, branching +wide and striking deep, and throwing up from depths unknown those +symptoms and symbols of itself which he mistook for mere superficial +stains." + +"Really," protested Parry, "I see no grounds for such a view." + +"Perhaps not," I said, "but anyhow you will, I suppose, admit that a +certain precariousness does attach to these Goods of sense, whether +they be freely offered by nature or painfully acquired by the labour +of man." + +"Not necessarily," he objected, "for we are constantly reducing to +order and routine what was once haphazard and uncontrolled. For +the great mass of civilized men the primitive goods of life, food, +shelter, clothing and the like, are practically secured against all +chance." + +"Are they?" cried Bartlett, "I admire your optimism!" + +"And I too," I said. "But even granting that it were as you say, +we are then met by this curious fact, that the Goods we really care +about, in our practical activity, are never those that are secure but +those that are precarious. As soon as we are safe against one risk we +proceed to take another, so that there is always a margin, as it were, +of precarious Goods, and those exactly the ones which we hold most +precious." + +"In fact," said Audubon, "as soon as you get your Good it ceases to be +good. That's precisely what I am always saying." + +"Then," I said, "there is the less need to labour the point. One way +or other, it seems, either because they are difficult to secure, or +because, when secured, they lose their specific quality. Goods of this +kind are caught in the wheels of chance and change, whether they be +offered to man by the free gift of Nature, or wrung from her in the +sweat of his brow. In other words, they are, as I said, precarious. +And now, have they any other defects?" + +"Have they any?" cried Leslie, "why they have nothing else!" + +"Well," I said, "but what in particular?" + +"Oh," he replied, "it's all summed up, I suppose, in the fact that +they are Goods of sense, and not of intellect or of imagination." + +"Is it then," I asked, "a defect in content that you are driving +at? Do you mean that they satisfy only a part of our nature, not the +whole? For that, I suppose, would be equally true of the other Goods +you mentioned, such as those of the intellect." + +"Yes," he replied, "but it is the inferior part to which the Goods we +are speaking of appeal." + +"Perhaps; but in what respect inferior?" + +"Why, simply as the body is inferior to the soul." + +"But how is that? You will think me very stupid, but the more I think +of it the less I understand this famous distinction between body and +soul, and the relation of one to the other." + +"I doubt," said Wilson, "whether there is a distinction at all." + +"I don't say that," I replied. "I only say that I can't understand +it; and I should be thankful, if possible, to keep it out of our +discussion." + +"So should I!" said Wilson. + +"Well, but," Leslie protested, "how can we?" + +"I think perhaps we might," I said. "For instance, in the case before +us, why should we not try directly to define that specific property of +the Goods of sense which, according to you, constitutes their defect, +without having recourse to these difficult terms body and soul at +all?" + +"Well," he agreed, "we might try." + +"What, then" I said, "do you suggest?" + +He hesitated a little, and then began in a tentative kind of way: + +"I think what I feel about these Goods is that we are somehow their +slaves; they possess us, instead of our possessing them. They come +upon us we hardly know how or whence; they satisfy our desires we +can't tell why; our relation to them seems to be passive rather than +active." + +"And that, you think, would not be the case with a true and perfect +Good?" + +"No, I think not" + +"How, then, should we feel towards such a Good?" + +"We should feel, I think, that it was somehow an expression of +ourselves, and we of it; that it was its nature and its whole nature +to present itself as a Good and our nature and our whole nature to +experience it as such. There would be nothing in It alien to us and +nothing in us alien to it." + +"Whereas in the case of Goods of sense----?" + +"Whereas in their case," he said, "surely nothing of the kind applies. +For these Goods appear to arise in things and under circumstances +which have quite another nature than that of being good for us. It is +not the essence of water to quench our thirst, of fire to cook for us, +or of the sun to give us light----" + +"Or of cork-trees to stop our ginger-beer bottles," added Ellis. + +"Quite so," he continued; "in every case these things that do us good +are also quite as ready to do us harm, and, for that matter, to do +innumerable things which have no relation to us at all. So that the +goodness they have in them, so far as it is goodness to our senses, +they have, as it were, only by accident; and we feel that essentially +either they are not Goods, or their goodness is something beyond and +different from that which is revealed to sense." + +"Your quarrel, then" I said, "with the Goods of sense, so far as I +understand you, is that they inhere, as it were, in a substance which, +so far as we can tell, is indifferent to Good, or at any rate to Good +of that kind?" + +"Yes." + +"Whereas a true Good, you think, must be good in essence and +substance?" + +"Yes; don't you think so too?" + +"I do," I replied, "but how about the others?" + +Dennis assented, and the others did not object, not appearing, indeed, +to have attended much to the argument. So I continued, "We have then, +so far, discovered in this class of Goods, two main defects, the +first, that they are precarious; the second, which is closely +connected with the other, and is in fact, I suppose, its explanation, +that they are, shall we say, accidental, understanding the word in +the sense we have just defined. Now, let us see if we cannot find any +class of Goods similar to these, but free from their defects." + +"But similar in what respect," he asked, "if they are not to have +similar defects?" + +"Similar, I meant, in being direct presentations to sense." + +"But are there any such Goods?" + +"I think so," I said. "What do you say to works of Art? These, are +they not, are direct presentations to sense? Yet such that it is their +whole nature and essence on the one hand to be beautiful, and to that +extent Good--for I suppose you will admit that the Beautiful is a kind +of Good; and on the other hand, if I may dare to say so, to be, in a +certain sense, eternal." + +"Eternal!" cried Ellis, "I only wish they were! What wouldn't we give +for the works of Polygnotus and Apelles!" + +"Oh yes," I said, "of course, in that way, regarded as material +objects, they are as perishable as all the works of nature. But I was +talking of them as Art, not as mere things; and from that point of +view, surely, each is a moment, or a series of moments, cut away, +as it were, from the contact of chance or change and set apart in +a timeless world of its own, never of its own nature, to pass into +something else, but only through the alien nature of the matter to +which it is bound." + +"What do you mean?" cried Parry. "I am quite at sea." + +"Perhaps," I said, "you will understand the point better if I give it +you in the words of a poet." + +And I quoted the well-known stanzas from Keats' "Ode on a Grecian +Urn": + + "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard + Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; + Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd. + Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone; + Fair youth beneath the trees, thou canst not leave + Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; + Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss, + Though winning near the goal--yet, do not grieve; + She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, + For ever wilt thou love and she be fair! + + "Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed + Your leaves, nor ever bid the spring adieu; + And, happy melodist, unwearied, + For ever piping songs for ever new; + More happy love! more happy, happy love! + For ever warm and still to be enjoyed, + For ever panting and for ever young; + All breathing human passion far above, + That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed, + A burning forehead, and a parching tongue." + +"Well," said Parry, when I had done, "that's very pretty; but I don't +see how it bears on the argument." + +"I think," I replied, "that it illustrates the point I wanted to make. +Part, I mean, of the peculiar charm of works of Art consists in the +fact that they arrest a fleeting moment of delight, lift it from our +sphere of corruption and change, and fix it like a star in the eighth +heaven." + +"Yes," said Ellis, "we grant you that" + +"Or at least," added Parry, "we don't care to dispute it" + +"And the other point which I want to make is, I think, clearer +still--that the Good of works of Art, that is to say their Beauty, +results from the very principle of their nature, and is not a mere +accident of circumstances." + +"Of course," said Leslie, "their Beauty is their only _raison d'être_?" + +"And yet," I went on, "they are still Goods of sense, and so far +resemble the other Goods of which we were speaking before." + +"Yes," said Dennis, "but with what a difference! That is the point I +have been waiting to come to." + +"What point?" I asked. + +"Why," he said, "in the case of what you call Goods of sense, in their +simplest and purest form, making abstraction from all æsthetic +and other elements--as in the example you gave of a cold bath--the +relation of the object to the sense is so simple and direct, that +really, if we were to speak accurately, we should have, I think, to +say, that so far as the perception of Good is concerned the object is +merged in the subject, and what you get is simply a good sensation." + +"Perhaps," I agreed, "that is how we ought to put it. But at the time +I did not think it necessary to be so precise." + +"But it has become necessary now, I think," he replied, "if we are to +bring out a characteristic of works of Art which will throw light, I +believe, on the general nature of Good." + +"What characteristic is that?" + +"Why," he replied, "when we come to works of Art, the important thing +is the object, not the subject; if there is any merging of the one in +the other, it is the subject that is merged in the object, not +_vice versa_. We have to contemplate the object, anyhow, as having a +character of its own; and it is to this character that I want to draw +attention." + +"In what respect?" + +"In respect that every work of Art, and, for that matter, every work +of nature--so far as it can be viewed æsthetically--comprises a number +of elements necessarily connected in a whole; and this necessary +connection is the point on which we ought to insist" + +"But necessary how?" asked Wilson. "Do you mean logically necessary?" + +"No," he replied, "æsthetically. I mean, that we have a direct +perception that nothing in the work could be omitted or altered +without destroying the whole. This, at any rate, is the ideal; and +it holds, more or less, in proportion as the work is more or less +perfect. Everyone, I suppose, who understands these things would agree +to that." + +No one seemed inclined to dispute the statement; certainly I was not, +myself; so I answered, "No doubt what you say is true of works of Art; +but will your contention be that it is also true of Good in general?" + +"Yes," he said, "I think so, in so far at least as Good is to be +conceived as comprising a number of elements. For no one, I suppose, +would imagine that such elements might be thrown together haphazard +and yet constitute a good whole." + +"I suppose not," I agreed, "and, if you are right, what we seem to +have arrived at is this: among the works which man creates in his +quest of the Good, there is one class, that of works of Art, which, in +the first place, may be said, in a sense, to be not precarious, seeing +that by their form, through which they are Art, they are set above the +flux of time, though by their matter, we admit, they are bound to +it And, in the second place, the Good which they have, they have by +virtue of their essence; Good is their substance, not an accident of +their changing relations. And, lastly, being complex wholes, the parts +of which they are composed are bound together in necessary connection. +These characteristics, at any rate, we have discovered in works of +Art: and no doubt many more might be discoverable. But now, let us +turn to the other side, and consider the defects in which this class +of Goods is involved." + +"Ah!" cried Bartlett, "when you come to that, I have something to +say." + +"Well," I said, "what is it? We shall be glad of any help." + +"It can be summed up," he replied, "in a single word. Whatever may be +the merits of a work of Art--and they may be all that you say--it has +this one grand defect--it isn't real!" + +"Real!" cried Leslie. "What is real? The word's the plague of my +life! People use it as if they meant something by it, something very +tremendous and august, and when you press them they never know what +it is. They talk of 'real life'--real life! what is it? As if one life +wasn't as real as another!" + +"Oh, as to real life," said Ellis, "I can tell you what that is. Real +life is the shady side of life." + +"Nonsense," said Parry, "real life is the life of men of the world." + +"Or," retorted Ellis, "more generally, it is the life of the person +speaking, as opposed to that of the person to whom he speaks." + +"Well, but," I interposed, "it is not 'real life' that is our present +concern, but Bartlett's meaning when he used the word 'real.' In what +sense is Art not real?" + +"Why," he replied, "by your own confession Art is something ideal. It +is beautiful, it is good, it is lifted above chance and change; its +connection with matter, that is to say with reality, is a kind of +flaw, an indecency from which we discreetly turn our eyes. The real +world is nothing of all this; on the contrary, it is ugly, brutal, +material, coarse, and bad as bad can be!" + +"I don't see that it is at all!" cried Leslie, "and, even if it were, +you have no right to assume that that is the reality of it. How do you +know that its reality doesn't consist precisely in the Ideal, as all +poets and philosophers have thought? And, in that case, Art would be +more real than what you would call Reality, because it would represent +the essence of the world, the thing it would like to be if it could, +and is, so far as it can. That was Aristotle's view, anyhow." + +"Then all I can say is," replied Bartlett, "that I don't agree with +Aristotle! Anyhow, even if Art represents what the world would like to +be, it certainly doesn't represent what it is." + +"I don't know; surely it does, sometimes," said Parry, "for instance, +there's the realistic novel!" + +"Oh, that!" cried Ellis. "That's the most ideal of all--only it's apt +to be such bad idealism!" + +"Anyhow," said Bartlett, "in so far as it is real, it's not Art, in +the sense, in which we have been using the word." + +I began to be afraid that we should drift away into a discussion of +realism in Art. So, to recall the conversation to the point at issue, +I turned to Bartlett, and said: + +"Your criticism seems to me to be fair enough as far as it goes. You +say that the world of Art is a world by itself; that side by side of +it, and unaffected by it, moves the world of what you call real life. +And that whatever be the relation between the two worlds, whether +we are to say that the one imitates the other, or interprets it, or +idealizes it, it does not, in any case, set it aside. Art is a refuge +from life, not a substitute for it; a little blessed island in the +howling sea of fact. Its Good is thus only a partial Good; whereas the +true Good, I suppose, would be somehow universal." + +"Still," said Leslie, "as far as it goes it is a Good without +blemish." + +"I am not so sure," I said, "even of that. I am inclined to think that +Bartlett's criticism, if we squeeze it tight, will yield us more than +we have yet got out of it--perhaps even more than he knows is in it" + +"You don't mean to say," cried Bartlett, "that you are coming over to +my side!" + +"Yes," I said, "like a spy to the enemy's camp to see where your +strength really lies." + +"I have no objection," he replied, "if it ends in your discovering new +defences for me." + +"Well," I said, "we shall see. Anyhow, this is what I had in my mind. +We were saying just now that when people talk about 'real life,' the +'real world,' and so on, they are not always very clear as to what +they mean. But one thing, I think, perhaps they have obscurely in +their heads--that the Real is something from which you cannot escape; +something which forces itself upon you without reference to choice or +desire, having a nature of its own which may or may not conform, more +or less to yours, but in any case is distinct and independent. That +is why they would say, for example, that the illusions of a madman +are not real, meaning that they do not represent real things, however +vivid their appearance may be, because they are the productions merely +of his own consciousness; whereas the very same appearances presented +to a sane man would be called without hesitation real, because they +would be conceived to proceed from objects having an independent +nature of their own. Something of this kind, I suppose, is included in +the notion 'real' as it is held by ordinary people." + +"Perhaps" said Leslie, "but what then? And how does it bear upon Art?" + +"I am not sure," I replied, "but it occurred to me that works of +Art, though of course they are real objects, are such that a certain +violence, as it were, has been done to their reality in our interest. +What I mean will be best understood, I think, if we put ourselves for +the moment into the position of the artist. To him certain materials +are presented which of course are real in our present acceptation +of the term, being such as they are of their own nature, without +any dependence upon him. Upon these materials he flings himself, and +shapes them according to his desire, impressing, as it were, his +own nature upon theirs, till they confront him as a kind of image of +himself in an alien stuff. So far, then, he has a Good, and a Good +presented to him as real; but for the Goodness of this reality he is +himself responsible. In so far as it is, so to speak, merely real, it +has still the nature which was first presented to him, before he began +his work--a nature indifferent, if not opposed, to all his operations, +as is shown by the fact that it changes and passes away into something +else, just as it would have done if he had never touched it. To this +nature he has, as I said, done a certain violence in order to stamp +upon it the appearance of Good; but the Good is still, in a sense, +only an appearance; the reality of the thing remains independent and +alien. So that what the man has found, in so far as he has found Good, +is after all only a form of himself; and one can conceive him feeling +a kind of despair, like that of Wotan in the Walküre, when in his +quest for a free, substantial, self-subsistent Good he finds after +all, for ever, nothing but images of himself: + + "'Das Andre, das ich ersehne, + Das Andre, erseh' ich nie.' + +"I don't know whether what I am saying is intelligible, for I find it +rather hard to put it into words." + +"Yes," he said, "I think I understand. But what you are saying, so far +as it is true, seems to be true only for the artist himself. To +all others the work of Art must appear as something independent of +themselves." + +"True," I said, "and yet I think that they too feel, or might be made +to fed if it were brought home to them, this same antagonism between +the nature of the stuff and the form that has been given to it. +The form will seem from this point of view something factitious and +artificial given to the stuff, not indeed by themselves, but by one +like themselves, and in their interest. They will contrast, perhaps, +as is often done, a picture of the landscape with the landscape +Itself. The picture, they will say, however beautiful, is not a +'natural' Good, not a real Good, not a Good in its own right; it is +a kind of makeshift produced by human effort, beautiful, if you will, +admirable, if you will, to be sought, to be cherished, to be loved in +default of a better, with the best faculties of brain and soul, but +still not that ultimate thing we wanted, that Good in and of itself, +as well as through and for us, Good by its own nature apart from our +interposition, self-moved, self-determined, self-dependent, and in +which alone our desires could finally rest.--Don't you think that some +such feeling may, perhaps, be at the bottom of Bartlett's criticism of +Art as unreal?" + +Bartlett laughed. "If so," he said, "it is quite unknown to myself. +For to tell the truth, I have not understood a word that you have +said." + +"Well," I said, "in that case, at any rate you can't disagree with me. +But what do the others think?" And I turned to Dennis and Leslie, for +Wilson and Parry did not seem to be attending. Leslie assented with +enthusiasm. But Dennis shook his head. + +"I don't know," he said, "what to think about all that. It seems to me +rather irrelevant to the work of Art as such." + +"Perhaps," I said, "but surely not to the work of Art as Good? Or do +you not agree with me that the true Good must be such purely of its +own nature?" + +"Perhaps so," he replied; "it wants thinking over. But in any case I +agree with you so far, that I should never place the Good in Art." + +"In what then?" + +"I should be much more inclined to place it in Knowledge." + +"In Knowledge!" I repeated. "That seems to me very strange!" + +"But why strange?" he said. "Surely there is good authority for the +view. It was Aristotle's for example, and Spinoza's." + +"I know," I replied, "and I used to think it was also mine. But of +late I have come to realize more clearly what Knowledge is; and now I +see, or seem to see, that whatever its value may be, it is something +that falls very far short of Good." + +"Why," he said, "what is your idea of Knowledge?" + +"You had better ask Wilson," I replied, "it is he who has instructed +me." + +"Very well," he said, "I appeal to Wilson." + +And Wilson, nothing loth, enunciated his definition of Knowledge. + +"Knowledge," he said, "is the description and summing up in brief +formulæ of the routine of our perceptions." + +"There!" I exclaimed. "No one, I suppose, would identify that with +Good?" + +"But"--objected Dennis--"in the first place, I don't understand the +definition; and, in the second place, I don't agree with it." + +"As to understanding it," replied Wilson, "there need be no difficulty +there. You have only to seize clearly one or two main positions. +First, that Knowledge is of perceptions only, not of things in +themselves; secondly, that these perceptions occur in fixed routines; +thirdly ..." + +"But," interrupted Dennis, "what is a perception? I suppose it's a +perception of something?" + +"No," he said, "I don't know that it is." + +"What then? Simply a state in me?" + +"Very likely." + +"Then does nothing exist except my states?" + +"Nothing else exists primarily for you." + +"Then what about the world before I existed, and after I cease to +exist?" + +"You infer such a world from your states." + +"Then there is something besides my states--this world which I infer; +and that, I suppose, and not merely my perceptions, is the reality of +which I have knowledge?" + +"Not exactly," he replied, "the fact is ..." + +"I don't think," I interrupted, "that we ought to plunge into a +discussion of the nature of Reality. It is Good with which we are at +present concerned." + +"But," said Dennis, "we wanted to find out the connection of Knowledge +with Good; and to do so we must first discover what Knowledge is." + +"Well then," I said, "let us first take Wilson's account of Knowledge, +and see what he makes of that with regard to Good; and then we will +take yours, and see what we make of that. And if we don't find that +either satisfies the requirements of Good we will leave Knowledge and +go on to something else." + +"Very well," he replied, "I am content, so long as I get my chance." + +"You shall have your chance. But first we will take Wilson. And I +dare say he will not keep us long. For you will hardly maintain, I +suppose," I continued, turning to him, "that Knowledge, as you define +it, could be identified with Good?" + +"I don't know," he said; "to tell the truth, I don't much believe in +Good, in any absolute sense. But that Knowledge, as I define it, is a +good thing, I have no doubt whatever." + +"Neither have I," I replied; "but good, as it seems to me, mainly as a +means, in so far as it enables us to master Nature." + +"Well," he said, "and what greater Good could there be?" + +"I don't dispute the greatness of such a Good. I merely wish to point +out that if we look at it so, it is in the mastery of Nature that the +Good in question consists, and not in the Knowledge itself. Or should +you say that there is Good in the scientific activity itself, quite +apart from any practical results to which it may lead?" + +"Certainly," he replied, "and the former, in my opinion, is the higher +and more ideal Good." + +"This activity itself of inventing brief formulæ to resume the routine +of our perceptions?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, but what _is_ the Good of it? That is what it is so hard for +a layman to get hold of. Does it consist in the discovery of Reality? +For that, I could understand, would be good." + +"No," he said, "for we do not profess to touch Reality. We deal merely +with our perceptions." + +"So that when, for example, you conceive such and such a perfect +fluid, or whatever you call it, and such and such motions in it, you +do not suppose this fluid to be real." + +"No. It is merely a conception by means of which we are enabled to +give an account of the order in which certain of our perceptions +occur. But it is very satisfactory to be able to give such an +account." + +"I suppose it must be," I said, "but once more, could you say more +precisely wherein the satisfaction consists? Is it, perhaps, in the +discovery of necessary connections?" + +"No," he said, "we don't admit necessity. We admit only an order which +is, as a matter of fact, regular." + +"You say, for example, that it so happens that all bodies do move +in relation to one another in the way summed up in the law of +gravitation; but that you see no reason why they should?" + +"Yes." + +"But ..." began Dennis, who had found difficulty all this time in +restraining himself. + +"One moment!" I pleaded, "let Wilson have his say." And turning to him +I continued: "If, then, the satisfaction to be derived from scientific +activity does not consist in the discovery of Reality, nor yet in +that of necessary connection, wherein should you say, does it consist? +Perhaps in the regulating of expectation?" + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"I mean, that it is painful for us to live in a world in which +we don't know what to expect; it excites not only our fears and +apprehensions, but also a kind of intellectual disgust. And, +conversely, it is a relief and a pleasure to discover an order among +our experiences, not only because it enables us the better to utilize +them for our ends (for that belongs to the practical results of +science), but because in itself we prefer order to disorder, even if +no other advantage were to be got out of it." + +"I don't know that we do!" objected Ellis, "it depends on the kind +of order. An order of dull routine is far more intolerable than a +disorder of splendid possibilities! Ask the Oriental why he objects to +British rule! Simply because it is regular! He prefers the chances +of rapine, violent and picturesque, to the dreary machine-like +depredations of the tax-collector." + +"Yes," I said, "but there you take in a number of complex factors. I +was thinking merely of the Good to be got out of scientific activity +as such. And I think there is an intellectual satisfaction in the +discovery of order, even though it be dissociated from necessity." + +"No doubt there is," said Wilson, "but I shouldn't say that is the +only reason for our delight in Knowledge. The fact is, Knowledge is an +extension of experience, and is good simply as such. The sense of More +and still More beyond what has yet been discovered, of new facts, new +successions, new combinations, of ever fresh appeals to our interest, +our wonder, our admiration, the mere excitement of discovery for its +own sake, quite apart from anything else to which it may lead, a dash +of adventure, too, a heightening of life--that is what is the real +spur to science and, to my mind, its sufficient justification." + +"But," I objected, "that is rather an account of the general process +of Experience than of the special one of Knowledge. No doubt there is +an attraction in all activity--Ellis has already expounded it; and all +experience involves a kind of Knowledge; but what we wanted to get at +was the special attraction of scientific activity; and that seems to +be, so far as I can see, simply the discovery of order." + +"Well," he said, "if you like--what then?" + +"Why, then," I said, "we can easily see the defect in this kind of +activity, when viewed from the standpoint of Good." + +"What is it?" + +"Why, clearly, that that in which we discover the order may be bad. +There is a science of disease as well as of health; and an activity +concerned with the Bad could hardly be purely good, even though it +were a discovery of order in the Bad. Or do you think that if all men +were diseased, they would nevertheless be in possession of the Good, +if only they had perfect knowledge of the laws of disease?" + +"No," he said, "of course not. We have to take into account, not only +the character of Knowledge, but the character of the object known." + +"Quite so, that is my point. You agree then with me that Knowledge +may be in various ways good, but that in so far as it is, or may be +knowledge of Bad, it cannot be said by itself to constitute the Good." + +"I think," he agreed, "that I might admit that." + +"Well, then," I said, "let us leave it there. And now, what has Dennis +to say?" + +"Ah!" he said, "you unmuzzle me at last. It has really been very hard +to sit by in silence and listen to these heresies without a protest." + +"Heresies!" retorted Wilson, "if it comes to that, which of us is the +heretic?" + +"What," I asked, "is the point of disagreement?" + +"It's a fundamental one. On Wilson's view, Knowledge is merely +the discovery of order among our perceptions. If that were all, +I shouldn't value it much. But on my view, it is the discovery of +necessary connection; and in the necessity lies the fascination." + +"But where," argued Wilson, "do you find your necessity? All that is +really given is succession. The necessity is merely what we read into +the facts." + +"Not at all! The necessity is 'given,' as you call it, as much as +anything else, if only you choose to look for it. The type of all +Knowledge is mathematical knowledge; and all mathematical knowledge is +necessary." + +"But it is all based on assumptions." + +"That may be; but granting the assumptions, it deduces from them +necessary consequences. And all true science is of that type. A law of +Nature is not a mere description of a routine; it's a statement +that, given such and such conditions, such and such results follow of +necessity." + +"Still, you admit that the conditions have to be given! Everything is +based ultimately on certain successions and coincidences of which all +that can be said is simply that they exist, without any possibility of +getting behind them." + +"I don't know about that," he said, "but at any rate it would be the +ideal of Knowledge to establish necessary connections throughout; so +that, given any one phenomenon of the universe, all the rest would +inevitably follow. And it is only in so far as it progresses towards +this consummation that Knowledge is Knowledge at all. A routine simply +given without internal coherence is to my mind a contradiction in +terms; either the routine is necessary, or it's not a routine at all, +but at best a mere appearance of a routine." + +"I think," I interposed, "we must leave you and Wilson to fight this +out in private. At present, let us assume that your conception of +Knowledge is the true one, as we did with his, and examine it from the +point of view of the Good. Your conception, then, to begin with, seems +to me to be involved in the same defect we have already noted--namely, +that it may be knowledge of Bad just as much as knowledge of Good. And +I suppose you would hardly maintain, any more than Wilson did, that +the Good may consist in knowledge of Bad?" + +"But," he objected, "I protest altogether against this notion that +there is Knowledge on the one hand and something of which there is +knowledge on the other. True Knowledge, if ever we could attain to +it, would be a unique kind of activity, in which there would be no +distinction, or at least no antagonism, between thinking on the one +hand and the thing thought on the other." + +"I don't know," I said, "that I quite understand. Have we in fact any +knowledge of that kind, that might serve as a kind of type of what you +mean?" + +"Yes," he replied, "I think we have. For example, if we are dealing +with pure number, as in arithmetic, we have an object which is somehow +native to our thought, commensurate with it, or however you like +to put it; and it is the same with other abstract notions, such as +substance and causation." + +"I see," I said. "And on the other hand, the element which is alien +to thought, and which is the cause of the impurity of most of what we +call knowledge, is the element of sense--the something given, which +thought cannot, as it were, digest, though it may dress and serve it +up in its own sauce?" + +"Yes," he said, "that is my idea." + +"So that knowledge, to be perfect, must not be of sense, but only of +pure thought, as Plato suggested long ago?" + +"Yes." + +"And such a knowledge, if we could attain it, you would call the +Good?" + +"I think so." + +"Well," I said, "in the first place, I have to point out that such a +Good (if it be one) implies an existence not merely better than +that of which we have an experience, but radically and fundamentally +different. For our whole life is bathed in sense. Not only are we sunk +in it up to the neck, but the greater part of the time our heads are +under too,--in fact most of us never get them out at all; it is only +a few philosophers every now and again who emerge for a moment or two +into sun and air, to breathe that element of pure thought which is too +fine even for them, except as a rare indulgence. At other times, they +too must be content with the grosser atmosphere which is the common +sustenance of common men." + +"Well," he said, "but what of that? We have not been maintaining that +the Good is within easy reach of all." + +"No," cried Ellis. "But even if it were, and were such as you describe +it, very few people would care to put out their hands to take it. I, +at any rate, for my part can see hardly a vestige of Good in the kind +of activity I understand you to mean. It is as though you should say, +that Good consists in the perpetual perception that 2 + 2 = 4." + +"But that is an absurd parody. For the point of knowledge would be, +that it would be a closed circle of necessary connections. One would +move in it, as in infinity, with a motion that is also rest, central +at once and peripheral, free and yet bound by law. That is my ideal of +a perfect activity!" + +"In form, perhaps," I said, "but surely not in content! For what, in +fact, in our experience comes nearest to what you describe? I suppose +the movement of a logic like Hegel's?" + +"Yes; only that, of course, is imperfect, full of lapses and flaws!" + +"But even if it were perfect," cried Ellis, "would it be any the +better? Imagine being deprived of the whole content of life--of +nature, of history, of art, of religion, of everything in which we +are really interested; imagine being left to turn for ever, like a +squirrel in a cage, or rather like the idea of a squirrel in the idea +of a cage, round and round the wheel of these hollow notions, without +hands, without feet, without anything anywhere by which we could lay +hold of a something that is not thought, a something solid, resistant, +palpitating, 'luscious and aplomb,' as Walt Whitman might say, a +sense, a flesh, call it what you will, the unintelligible, but still +the indispensable, that which, even if it be bad, we cannot afford to +miss, and which, if it be not the Good itself, the Good must somehow +include!" + +Dennis appeared to be somewhat struck by this way of putting the +matter. "But," he urged, "my difficulty is that if you admit sense, or +anything analogous to it, anything at once directly presented and also +alien to thought, you get, as you said yourself, something which is +unintelligible; and a Good which is not intelligible will be, so far, +not good." + +"But," I said, "what do you mean by intelligible?" + +"I think," he replied, "that I mean two things, both of which must be +present. First, that there shall be a necessary connection among the +elements presented; and secondly, that the elements themselves should +be of such a kind as to be, as it were, transparent to that which +apprehends them, so that it asks no questions as to what they are +or whence they come, but accepts them naturally and as a matter of +course, with the same inevitability as it accepts its own being." + +"And these conditions, you think, are fulfilled by the objects of +thought as you defined them? + +"I think so." + +"I am not so sure of that," I said, "it would require a long +discussion. But, anyhow, you also seemed to admit, when Ellis pressed +you, that thought of that kind could hardly be identified absolutely +with Good." + +"I admit," he replied, "that there are difficulties in that view." + +"But at the same time the Good, whatever it be, ought to be +intelligible in the sense you have explained?" + +"I should say so." + +"And so should I. But now, the question is, can we not conceive of +any other kind of object, which might have, on the one hand, the +intelligibility you ascribe to pure ideas, and on the other, that +immediate something, 'luscious and aplomb,' to borrow Ellis's +quotation, which he desiderated as a constituent of the Good?" + +"I don't know," he said, "perhaps we might. What is it you have in +your mind?" + +"Well," I replied, "let us recur for a moment to works of art. In them +we have, to begin with, directly presented elements other than mere +ideas." + +"No doubt." + +"And further, these elements, we agreed, have a necessary connection +one with the other." + +"Yes, but not logically necessary." + +"No doubt, but still a necessary connection. And it is the necessity +of the connection, surely, that is important; the character of the +necessity is a secondary consideration." + +"Perhaps." + +"One condition, then, of intelligibility is satisfied by a work +of art. But how is it with the other? How is it with the elements +themselves? Are they transparent, to use your phrase, to that which +apprehends them?" + +"Certainly not, for they are mere sense--of all things the most +obscure and baffling." + +"And yet," I replied, "not mere sense, for they are sense made +beautiful; as beautiful, they are akin to us, and, so far, +intelligible." + +"You suggest, then, that Beauty is akin to something in us, in a +way analogous to that in which, according to me, ideas are akin to +thought?" + +"It seems so to me. In so far as a thing is beautiful it does not, I +think, demand explanation, but only in so far as it is something else +as well." + +"Perhaps. But anyhow, inasmuch as a work of art is also sense, so far +at least it is not intelligible." + +"True; and here we come by a new path upon the defect which we +noticed before in works of art--that their Beauty, or Goodness, is not +essential to their whole nature, but is something imposed, as it were, +on an alien stuff. And it is this alien element that we now pronounce +to be unintelligible." + +"Yes; and so, as we agreed before, we cannot pronounce works of art to +be absolutely good." + +"No. But what are we to do then? Where are we to turn? Is there +nothing in our experience to suggest the kind of object we seem to +want?" + +No one answered. I looked round in vain for any help, and then, in +a kind of despair, moved by I know not what impulse, I made a direct +appeal to Audubon. + +"Come!" I cried, "you have said nothing for the last hour! I am sure +you must have something to suggest." + +"No," he said, "I haven't. Your whole way of dealing with these things +is a mystery to me. I can't conceive, for example, why you have never +once referred all through to what I should have thought was the best +Good we know--if, indeed, we know any Good at all." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why," he said, "one's relations to persons. They're the only things +that I think really worth having--if anything were worth having." + +A light suddenly broke on me, and I cried, "Yes! an idea!" + +"Well," said Ellis, "what is it, you man of forlorn hopes?" + +"Why," I said, "suppose the very object we are in search of should be +found just there?" + +"Where?" + +"Why, in persons!" + +"Persons!" he repeated. "But what persons? Any, every, all?" + +"Wait one moment," I cried, "and don't confuse me! Let me approach the +matter properly." + +"Very well," he said, "you shan't be hurried! You shall have your +chance." + +"Let us remind ourselves, then," I proceeded, "of the point we had +reached. The Good, we agreed, so far as we have been able to form +a conception of it, must be something immediately presented, +and presented in such a way, that it should be directly +intelligible--intelligible not only in the relations that obtain +between its elements, but also in the substance, so to speak, of the +elements themselves. Of such intelligibility we had a type, as Dennis +maintained, in the objects of pure thought, ideas and their relations. +But the Good, we held, could not consist in these. It must be +something, we felt, somehow analogous to sense, and yet it could not +be sense, for sense did not seem to be intelligible. But now, when +Audubon spoke, it occurred to me that perhaps we might find in persons +what we want And that is what I should like to examine now." + +"Well," said Ellis, "proceed." + +"To begin with, then, a person, I suppose we shall agree, is not +sense, though he is manifested through sense." + +"What does that mean?" said Wilson. + +"It means only, that a person is not his body, although we know him +through his body." + +"If he isn't his body," said Wilson, "he is probably only a function +of it." + +"Oh!" I said, "I know nothing about that. I only know that when we +talk of a person, we don't mean merely his body." + +"No," said Ellis, "but we certainly mean also his body. Heaven save +me from a mere naked soul, 'ganz ohne Körper, ganz abstrakt,' as Heine +says." + +"But, at any rate," I said, "let me ask you, for the moment, to +consider the soul apart from the body." + +"The soul," cried Wilson, "I thought we weren't to talk about body and +soul." + +"Well," I said, "I didn't intend to, but I seem to have been driven +into it unawares." + +"But what do you mean by the soul?" + +"I mean," I replied, "what I suppose to be the proper object of +psychology--for even people who object to the word 'soul' don't mind +talking (in Greek, of course) of the science of the soul. Anyhow, what +I mean is that which thinks and feels and wills." + +"Well, but what about it?" said Ellis. + +"The first thing about it is that it is, as it seems to me, of all +things the most intelligible." + +"I should have said," Wilson objected, "that it was of all things the +least." + +"Yes; but we are probably thinking of different things. What you have +in your mind is the connection of this thing which you refuse to call +the soul, with the body, the genesis and relations of its various +faculties, the measurement of its response to stimuli, and all the +other points which are examined in books of psychology. All that +I agree is very unintelligible; I, at least, make no profession of +understanding it. But what I meant was, that looking at persons as we +know them in ordinary life, or as they are shown to us in literature +and art, they really are intelligible to us in the same way that we +are intelligible to ourselves." + +"And how is that?" + +"Why, through motives and passions. There is, I suppose, no feeling or +action of which human beings are capable, from the very highest to +the very lowest, which other human beings may not sympathetically +understand, through the mere fact that they have the same nature. +They will understand more or less according as they have more or +less sympathy and insight; but in any case they are capable of +understanding, and it is the business of literature and art to make +them understand." + +"That is surely a curious use of the word 'understand.'" + +"But it is the one, I think, which is important for us. At any rate, +what I mean is that the object presented is so akin, not indeed (as +in the case of ideas) merely to our thought, but to our whole complex +nature, that it does not demand explanation." + +"What!" cried Audubon. "Well, all I can say is that most of the people +I, at any rate, come across do most emphatically demand explanation. +I don't see why they're there, or what they're doing, or what they're +for. Their existence Is a perpetual problem to me! And what's worse, +probably my existence is the same to them!" + +"But," I said, "surely if you had leisure or inclination to study them +all sympathetically, you would end by understanding them." + +"I don't think I should. At least I might in a sort of pathological +way, as one comes to understand a disease; but I shouldn't understand +why they exist. It seems to me, most people aren't fit to exist; and I +dare say they have the same opinion about me." + +"But are there no people of whose existence you approve?" + +"Yes, a few: my friends." + +"Surely," cried Ellis, "you flatter us! How often have you said that +you don't see why we are this, that, or the other! How often have +you complained of our faces, our legs, our arms, in fact, our whole +physique, not to mention spiritual blemishes!" + +"Well," he replied, "I don't deny that it's a great grief to me to +be unable really and objectively to approve of any of my friends. +Still----" + +"Still," I interrupted, "you have given me the suggestion I wanted. +For the relation of affection, however imperfect it may be, gives us +at least something which perhaps we shall find comes nearer to what +we might conceive to be absolutely Good than anything else we have yet +hit upon." + +"How so?" + +"Well, to begin with, one's friend appears to one, does he not, as +an object good in its own nature, not merely by imposition of our own +ideal upon an alien stuff, as we said was the case with works of art?" + +"I don't know about that!" said Audubon. "In my own case, at any rate, +I am sure that my friends never see me at all as I really am, but +simply read into me their own ideal. They have just as much imposed +upon me their own conception, as if I were the marble out of which +they had carded a statue." + +"You must allow us to be the judges of that," I replied. + +"Well, but," he said, "anyhow you can't deny that such illusions are +common. What lover ever saw his mistress as she really is?" + +"No," I said, "I don't deny that. But at the same time I should affirm +that the truer the love, the less the illusion. In what is commonly +called love, no doubt, the physical element is the predominant, or +even the only one present; and in that case there may be illusion to +an indefinite extent. But the love which is based upon years of common +experience, which has grown with the growth of the whole person, +in power and intelligence and insight, which has survived countless +disappointments and surmounted countless obstacles, the love of +husband and wife, the love, as we began by saying, of friends--such +love, as Browning says boldly, 'is never blind.' And such love, I +suppose you will admit, does exist, however rarely?" + +"Yes, I suppose so." + +"Well, then, in the case of such a love, it is the object as it really +is, not as it has been falsely fashioned by the imagination, that is +directly apprehended as good. And you cannot fairly say that its Good +is merely the ideal of the lover transferred to the person of the +loved." + +"But," objected Leslie, "though that may be so, yet still the Good, +that Is the person, does inhere in an alien stuff--the body." + +"But," I replied,"_is_ the body alien? Is it not rather an expression +of the person? as essential, somehow or other, as the soul?" + +"Certainly!" cried Ellis. "Give me the flesh, the flesh! + + "'Not with my soul, Love!--bid no soul like mine + Lap thee around nor leave the poor sense room! + Take sense too--let me love entire and whole-- + Not with my soul.'" + +"I don't agree with the sentiment of that," said Leslie, "and anyhow, +I don't see how it bears on the question. For the point of the poem +is rather to emphasize than to deny the opposition between body and +soul." + +"Yes," replied Ellis, "but also to suggest what you idealists call the +transcending of it." + +"Do you mean that in the marriage relation, for example ..." + +"Yes, I mean that in that act the flesh, so to speak, is annihilated +at the very moment of its assertion, and what you get is a feeling of +total union with the person, body and soul at once, or rather, neither +one nor the other, but simply that which is in and through both." + +"I should have thought," objected Leslie, "it was rather a case of the +soul being merged in the body." + +"That depends," replied Ellis. + +"Yes," I said, "it depends on many things! But what I was thinking +of was that, quite apart from that experience, and in the moments +of sober observation, one does feel, does one not, a ^correspondence +between body and soul, as though the one were the expression of the +other?" + +"I don't know," objected Audubon. "What I feel is much more often a +discrepancy." + +"But still," I urged, "even when there appears to be a discrepancy +to begin with, don't you think that in the course of years the spirit +does tend to stamp its own likeness on the flesh, and especially on +the features of the face?" + +"'For soul is form,'" quoted Leslie, "'and doth the body make.'" + +"Yes," I said, "and that verse, I believe, is not merely a beautiful +fancy of the poet's, but rather as the Greeks maintained--and on such +a point they were good judges--a profound and significant truth. +At any rate, I find it to be so in the case of the people I care +about--though there I know Audubon will dissent. In them, every +change of expression, every tone of voice, every gesture has its +significance; there is nothing that is not expressive--not a curl of +the hair, not a lift of the eyebrows, not a trick of speech or gait. +The body becomes, as it were, transparent and pervious to the soul; +and that inexplicable element of sense, which baffles us everywhere +else, seems here at last to receive its explanation in presenting +itself as the perfect medium of spirit." + +"If you come to that," cried Ellis, "you might as well extend your +remarks to the clothes. For they, to a lover's eyes, are often as +expressive and adorable as the body itself." + +"Well," I said, "the clothes, too, are a sort of image of the soul, +'an imitation of an imitation,' as Plato would say. But, seriously, +don't you agree with me that there is something in the view which +regards the body as the 'word made flesh,' a direct expression of the +person, not a mere stuff in which he Inheres?" + +"Yes," he said, "there may be something in it. At any rate, I +understand what you mean." + +"And in so far as that is so," I continued, "the body, though it be +a thing of sense, would nevertheless be directly intelligible in the +same way as the soul?" + +"Perhaps, in a sort of way." + +"And so we should have In the person loved an object which, though +presented to sense, would be at once good and intelligible; and our +activity in relation to this object, the activity, that is, of love, +would come nearer than any other experience of ours to what we might +call a perfect Good?" + +"But," objected Leslie, "it is still far enough from being the Good +itself. For after all, say what you may about the body being the +medium of the soul, it is still body, still sense, and, like other +sensible things, subject to change and decay, and in the end to death. +And with the fate of the body, so far as we know, that of the person +is involved. So that this, too, like all other Goods of sense, is +precarious.' + +"Perhaps it is," I said, "I cannot tell. But all that I mean to +maintain at present is that in the activity of love, as we have +analysed it, we have something which gives us, if it be only for +a moment, yet still in a real experience, an idea, at least, a +suggestion, to say no more, of what we might mean by a perfect Good, +even though we could not say that it be the Good itself." + +"But what, then, would you call the Good itself?" + +"A love, I suppose, which in the first place would be eternal, and in +the second all-comprehensive. For there is another defect in love, as +we know it, to which you did not refer, namely, that it is a relation +only to one or two individuals, while outside and beyond it proceeds +the main current of our lives, involving innumerable relations of a +very different kind from this." + +"Yes," cried Ellis, "and that is why this gospel of love, with all its +attractiveness, which I admit, seems to me, nevertheless, so trivial +and absurd. Just consider! Here is the great round world with all that +in it is, infinite in time, infinite in space, infinite in complexity; +here is the whole range of human relations, to say nothing of those +that are not human, of activities innumerable in and upon nature and +man himself, of inventions, discoveries, institutions, laws, arts, +sciences, religions; and the meaning and purpose and end of all this +we calmly assert to be--what? A girl and a boy kissing on the village +green!" + +"But," I protested, "who said anything about boys and girls and kisses +and village greens?" + +"Well, I suppose that is love, of a sort?" + +"Yes, of a sort, no doubt; but not a very good one." + +"You are thinking, then, of a special kind of love?" + +"I am thinking of the kind which I conceive to be the best." + +"And what is that?" + +"One, as I said just now, that should be eternal and +all-comprehensive." + +"And so, in the end, you have nothing better than an imaginary heaven +to land us in!" + +"I have no power, I fear, to land you there. But I believe there +is that dwelling within you which will not let you rest in anything +short." + +"Then I fear I shall never rest!" + +"That may be. But meantime all I want to do is to ascertain, if we +can, the meaning of your unrest. I have no interest in what you call +an imaginary heaven, except in so far as its conception is necessary +to enable us to interpret the world we know." + +"But how should it be necessary? I have never found it so." + +"It is necessary, I think, to explain our dissatisfaction. For the +Goods we actually realize always point away from themselves to +some other Good whose realization perhaps, as you say, for us is +impossible. But even if the Good were chimerical, we cannot deny the +passion that pursues it; for it is the same passion that urges us to +the pursuit of such Goods as we really can attain. And if we want to +understand the nature of that passion, we must understand the nature +of its Good, whether it be attainable or no. Only it is for the sake +of life here that we need that comprehension, not for the sake of life +somewhere else." + +"But do you reduce our passion for Good to this passion for Love?" + +"I don't 'reduce' it; I interpret it so." + +"And so we come back to the girl and the boy and the village green!" + +"No! we come back to the whole of life, of which that is only an +episode. Let me try to explain how the thing presents itself to me." + +"By all means! That is what I want." + +"Very well; I will do my best. Let us look then at life just as it is. +Here we find ourselves involved with one another in the most complex +relations--economic, political, social, domestic, and the rest; and +about and in these relations centres the interest of our life, +whether it be pleasurable or painful, empty or full, or whatever its +character. Among these relations some few perhaps--or, it may be, +even none--realize for a longer or shorter time, with more or less +completeness, that ultimate identity in diversity, that 'me in thee' +which we call love; the rest comprise various degrees of attraction +and repulsion, hatred, contempt, indifference, toleration, respect, +sympathy, and so on; and all together, always changing, dissolving, +and combining anew, weave about us, as they cross and intertwine, the +shifting, restless web we call life. Now these relations are an effect +and result of the pursuit of Good; but they are never the final goal +of that pursuit. The goal, I think, would be a perfect union of all +with all; and is not attained by anything that falls short of this, +whether the defect be in depth or In extent. And that is how it is +that love itself, even in its richer phases, and still more in those +which are merely light and sensual, though, as I think, through it +alone can we form our truest conception of Good, yet, as we have it, +never is the Good, even if it appear to be so for the moment; for +those who seek Good, I believe, will never feel that they have found +it merely in union with one other person. For what love gains in +intension it is apt to lose in extension; so that in practice it may +even come to frustrate the very end it seeks, limiting instead of +expanding, narrowing just in proportion as it deepens, and, by causing +the disruption of all other ties, impoverishing the natures it should +have enriched. Or don't you think that this happens sometimes, for +instance in married life?" + +"I do indeed." + +"And, on the other hand," I continued, "it may very well be that one +who passes through life without attaining the fruition of love, +yet with his gaze always set upon it, in and through many other +connections, may yet come closer to the end of his seeking than one +who, having known love, has sunk to rest in it then and there, as +though he had come already to his journey's end, when really he has +only reached an inn upon the road. So that I am far from thinking, as +you pretended to suppose, that the boy and girl on the village green +realize then and there the consummation of the world." + +"Still," he objected, "I do not see, in the scheme you put forward, +what place is left for the common business of life--for the things +which really do, for the most part, occupy and possess men's minds, +and the more, in my opinion, the greater their force and capacity." + +"You mean, I suppose, war and politics, and such things as that? + +"Yes, and generally all that one calls business." + +"Well," I said, "what these things mean to those who pursue them, I am +not as competent as you to say. But surely, what they are in +essence is just, like most other activities, relations between human +beings--relations of command and obedience, of respect, admiration, +antagonism, comradeship, infinitely complex, infinitely various, but +still all of them strung, as it were, upon a single thread of passion; +all of them at tension to become something else; all pointing to the +consummation which it is the nature of that which created them to +seek, and all, in that sense, paradoxical as it may sound, only means +to love." + +"You don't repudiate such activities then?" + +"How should I? I repudiate nothing. I am not trying to judge, but, if +I could, to explain. It is the men of action, I suppose, who have +the greatest extension of life, and sometimes, no doubt, the greatest +intension too. But every man has to live his own way, according to his +opportunities and capacity. Only, as I think myself, all are involved +in the same scheme, and all are driven to the same consummation." + +"A consummation in the clouds!" + +"I do not know about that; but at any rate, and this is the important +point, that which urges us to it is here and now. Everything is rooted +in it. Our pleasures and pains alike, our longing and dissatisfaction, +our restlessness never-to-be-quenched, our counting as nothing what +has been attained in the pressing on to more, our lying down and +rising up, our stumbling and recovering, whether we fail, as we call +it, or succeed, whether we act or suffer, whether we hate or love, all +that we are, all that we hope to be springs from the passion for Good, +and points, if we are right in our analysis, to love as its end." + +Upon this Audubon broke out:--"That's all very well! But the one +crucial point you persistently evade. It may be quite true, for aught +I know, that the Good you describe is the Good we seek--though I am +not aware of seeking it myself. But, after all, the real question is, +Can we get it? If not, we are mere fools to seek it." + +"So," I said, "you have brought me to bay at last! And, since you +challenge me, I am bound to admit that I don't know whether we can get +it or no." + +"Well then," he said, impatiently, "what is the good of all this +discussion?" + +"Clearly," I replied, "no good at all, if there be no Good, which is +the point to which you are always harking back. But you have surely +forgotten the basis of our whole argument?" + +"What basis?" + +"Why, that from the very beginning we have been trying to find out, +not so much what we know (for on that point I admit that we know +little enough), as what it is necessary for us to believe, if we are +to find significance in life." + +"But how can we believe what we don't know?" + +"Why," I replied, "we can surely adopt postulates, as indeed we always +do in practical life. Every man who is about to undertake anything +makes the assumption, in the first place, that it is worth doing, and +In the second place that it is possible to be done. He may be wrong in +both these assumptions, but without them he could not move a step. And +so with regard to the business of life, as a whole, it is necessary +to assume, if we are to make anything of it at all, both that there is +Good, and that we know something about it; and also, I think, that it +is somehow or other realizable; but I do not know that any of these +assumptions could be proved." + +"But what right have we, then, to make such assumptions?" + +"We have none at all, so far as knowledge is concerned. Indeed, to my +mind, it is necessary, if we are to be honest with ourselves, that we +should never forget that they are assumptions, so long as they have +not received definite proof. But still they are, I think, as I said, +assumptions we are bound to make, if we are to give any meaning to +life. We might perhaps call them 'postulates of the will'; and our +attitude, when we adopt them, that of faith." + +"Faith!" protested Wilson, "that is a dangerous word!" + +"It is," I agreed. "Yet I doubt whether we can dispense with it. +Only we must remember that to have 'faith' in a proposition is not to +affirm that it is true, but to live as we should do if it were. It +is, in fact, an attitude of the will, not of the understanding; the +attitude of the general going into battle, not of the philosopher in +his closet." + +"But," he objected, "where we do not know, the proper attitude is +suspense of mind." + +"In many matters, no doubt," I replied, "but surely not in those with +which we are dealing. For we must live or die; and if we are to choose +to do either, we must do so by virtue of some assumption about the +Good." + +"But why should we choose to do either? Why should not we simply +wait?" + +"But wait how? wait affirming or denying? active or passive? Is it +possible to wait without adopting an attitude? Is not waiting itself +an attitude, an acting on the assumption that it is good to wait?" + +"But, at any rate, it does not involve assumptions as large as those +which you are trying to make us accept." + +"I am not trying to make you do anything; I am only trying to discover +what you make yourself do. And do you, as a matter of fact, really +dispute the main conclusions to which we have come, or rather, if you +will accept my phrase, the main 'postulates of the will' which we have +elicited?" + +"What are they? Let me have them again." + +"Well," I said, "here they are. First, that Good has some meaning." + +"Agreed!" + +"Second, that we know something about that meaning." + +"Doubtful!" said Dennis. "But it will be no use now to resume that +controversy." + +"No," I replied, "only I thought I had shown that if we know nothing +about it, then, for us, it has no meaning; and so our first assumption +is also destroyed, and with it all significance in life." + +"Well," he said, "go on. We can't go over all that again." + +"Third," I continued, "that among our experiences the one which comes +nearest to Good is that which we called love." + +"Possible!" said Dennis, "but a very tentative approximation." + +"Certainly," I agreed, "and subject to constant revision." + +"And after that?" + +"Well," I said, "now comes the point Audubon raised. Is it necessary +to include also the postulate that Good can be realized?" + +"But surely," objected Wilson, "here at least there is no room for +what you call faith. For whether or no the Good can be realized is a +question of knowledge." + +"No doubt," I replied, "and so are all questions--if only we could +know. But I was assuming that this is one of the things we do not +know." + +"But," he said, "it is one we are always coming to know. Every year we +are learning more and more about the course and destiny of mankind." + +"Should you say, then," I asked, "that we are nearer to knowing +whether or no the soul is immortal?" + +He looked at me in sheer amazement; and then, "What a question!" he +cried. "I should say that we have long known that it isn't" + +"Then," I said, "if so, we know that the Good cannot be realized." + +"What!" he exclaimed. "I had not understood that your conception of +the Good involved the idea of personal immortality." + +"I am almost afraid it does," I replied, "but I am not quite sure. +We have already touched upon the point, if you remember, when we +were considering whether we must regard the Good as realizable in +ourselves, or only in some generation of people to come. And we +thought then that it must somehow be realizable in us." + +"But we did not see at the time what that would involve, though I was +afraid all along of something of the kind." + +"Well," I said, "for fear you should think you have been cheated, we +will reconsider the point; and first, if you like, we will suppose +that we mean by the Good of some future generation, still retaining +for Good the signification we gave to it. The question then of whether +or no the Good can be realized, will be the question whether or no it +is possible that at some future time all individuals should be knit +together in that ultimate relation which we called love." + +"But," cried Leslie, "the love was to be eternal! So that _their_ +souls at least would have to be immortal; and if theirs, why not +ours?" + +I looked at Wilson; and "Well," I said, "what are we to say?" + +"For my part," he replied, "I have nothing to say. I consider the +whole idea of immortality illegitimate." + +"Yet on that," I said, "hangs the eternal nature of our Good. But may +we retain, perhaps, the all-comprehensiveness?" + +"How could we!" cried Leslie, "for it is only the individuals who +happened to be alive who could be comprehended so long as they were +alive." + +"Another glory shorn from our Good!" I said. "Still, let us hold fast +to what we may! Shall we say that if the Good is to be realized the +individuals then alive, so long as they are alive, will be bound +together in this relation?" + +"You can say that if you like," said Wilson, "and something of that +kind I suppose one would envisage as the end. Only I'm not sure that I +very well know what you mean by love." + +"Alas!" I cried, "is even that to go? Is nothing at all to be left of +my poor conception?" + +"You, can say if you like," he replied, "and I suppose it comes +to much the same thing, that all individuals will be related in a +perfectly harmonious way." + +"In other words," cried Ellis, "that you will have a society perfectly +definite, heterogeneous, and co-ordinate! 'There's glory for you!' as +Humpty Dumpty said." + +"Well," I said, "this is something very different from what we defined +to be Good! But this, at any rate, you think, on grounds of positive +science, that it might be possible to realize?" + +"Yes," replied Wilson; "or if not that, I think at any rate that +science may ultimately be in a position to decide whether or no it can +be realized." + +"But," I said, "do you not think the same about personal immortality?" + +"To be honest," he replied, "I do not think that the question of +personal immortality is one which science ought even to entertain." + +"But," I urged, "I thought science was beginning to entertain it. Does +not the 'Society for Psychical Research' deal with such questions?" + +"'The Society for Psychical Research!'" he exclaimed. "I do not call +that science." + +"Well," I said, "at any rate there are men of a scientific turn of +mind connected with it" And I mentioned the names of one or two, +whereupon Wilson broke out into indignation, declaring with much +vehemence that the gentlemen in question were bringing discredit both +upon themselves and the University to which they belonged; and then +followed a discussion upon the proper objects and methods of science, +which I do not exactly recall. Only I remember that Wilson took up a +position which led Ellis, with some justice as I thought, to declare +that science appeared to be developing all the vices of theology +without any of its virtues--the dogmatism, the "index expurgatorius," +and the whole machinery for suppressing speculation, without any of +the capacity to impose upon the conscience a clear and well-defined +scheme of life. This debate, however, was carried on in a tone too +polemic to elicit any really fruitful result; and as soon as I was +able I endeavoured to steer the conversation back into the smoother +waters from which it had been driven. + +"Let us admit," I said, "if you like, for the sake of argument, that +on the question of the immortality of the soul we do not and cannot +know anything at all." + +"But," objected Wilson, "I maintain that we do know that there is no +foundation at all for the idea. It is a mere reflection of our hopes +and fears, or of those of our ancestors." + +"But," I said, "even if it be, that does not prove that it is not +true; it merely shows that we have no sufficient reason for thinking +it to be true." + +"Well," he said, "put it so, if you like; that is enough to relegate +the notion to the limbo of centaurs and chimæras. What we have no +reason to suppose to be true, we have no reason to concern ourselves +with." + +"Pardon me," I replied, "but I think we have, if the idea is one that +interests us, as Is the case with what we are discussing. We may not +know whether or no it is true, but we cannot help profoundly caring." + +"Well," he said, "I may be peculiarly constituted, but, honestly, I do +not myself care in the least" + +"But," I said, "perhaps you ought to, if you care about the Good; +and that is really the question I want to come back to. What is the +minimum we must believe if we are to make life significant? Is it +sufficient to believe in what you call the 'progress of the race'? Or +must we also believe in the progress of the individual, involving, as +it does, personal immortality?" + +"Well," said Wilson, "I don't profess to take lofty views of +life--that I leave to the philosophers. But I must say it seems to me +to be a finer thing to work for a future in which one knows one will +not participate oneself than for one in which one's personal happiness +is involved. I have always sympathized with Comte, pedant as he was, +in the remark he made when he was dying." + +"Which one?" interrupted Ellis. "'Quelle perte irréparable?' That +always struck me as the most humorous thing ever said." + +"No," said Wilson, gravely, "but when he said that the prospect of +death would be to him infinitely less sublime, if it did not involve +his own extinction; the notion being, I suppose, that death is +the triumphant affirmation of the supremacy of the race over the +individual. And that, I think myself, is the sound and healthy and +manly view." + +"My dear Wilson," cried Ellis, "you talk of lofty views; but this is +a pinnacle of loftiness to which I, for one, could never aspire. +Positively, to rejoice in the extinction of the individual with his +faculties undeveloped, his opportunities unrealized, his ambitions +unfulfilled--why it's sublime! its Kiplingese--there's no other word +for it! Shake hands, Wilson! you're a hero." + +"Really," said Wilson, rather impatiently, "I see nothing strained +or high-faluting in the view. And as to what you say about faculties +undeveloped and the rest, that seems to me unreal and exaggerated! +Most men have a good enough time, and get pretty much what they +deserve. A healthy, normal man is ready to die--he has done what he +had it in him to do, and passed on his work to the next generation." + +"I have often wondered," said Ellis, meditatively, "what 'normal' +means. Does it mean one in a million, should you say? Or perhaps that +is too large a proportion? Some people say, do they not, that there +never was a normal man?" + +"By 'normal,'" retorted Wilson, doggedly, "I mean average, and I +include every one except a few decadents and faddists." + +At this point, seeing that we were threatened with another digression, +I thought it best to intervene again. + +"We are diverging," I said, "a little from the issue. Wilson's +position, as I understand him, is that the prospect of the future +Good of the race is sufficient to give significance to the life of the +individual, even though he realize no Good for himself." + +"No," replied Wilson, "I don't say that; for I think he always does +realize sufficient Good for himself." + +"But is it because of that Good which he realizes for himself that his +life has significance? Or because of the future Good of the race?" + +"I don't know; both, I suppose." + +"You do not think then that the future Good of the race is sufficient, +by itself, to give significance to the lives of individuals who are +never to partake in it?" + +"I don't like that way of putting the question. What I believe is, +that in realizing his own Good a man is also contributing to that of +the race. There is no such antagonism between the two ends as you seem +to suggest." + +"I don't say that there is an antagonism; but I do insist that there +is a distinction. And I cannot help feeling--and this is where we seem +to disagree--that in estimating the Good of individual lives we must +have regard to that which they realize in and for themselves, not +merely to that which they may be contributing to produce some day in +somebody else." + +"These 'somebody elses,'" cried Ellis, "being after all nothing but +other individuals like themselves! so that you get an infinite series +of people doing Good to one another, and none of them getting any +Good for themselves, like the: islanders who lived by taking in one +another's washing!" + +"Well, but," said Wilson, "supposing I consent, for the sake of +argument, to let you estimate the worth of life by the Good which +individuals realize in themselves. What follows then?" + +"Why, then" I said, "it would, I think, be very hard to maintain that +we do most of us realize Good enough to make it seem worth while to +have lived at all, if indeed we are simply extinguished at death. At +any rate, if we set aside an exceptional few, and look frankly at the +mass of men and women, judging them not as means to something else, +but as ends in themselves, with reference not to happiness, or +content, or acquiescence, or indifference, but simply to Good--if we +look at them so, can we honestly say that there is enough significance +in their lives to justify the labour and expense of producing and +maintaining them?" + +"I don't know," he replied, "they probably think themselves that there +is." + +"Probably," I rejoined, "they do not think about it at all. But what I +should like to know is, what do you think?" + +"I don't see," he objected, "how I can have any opinion; the problem +is too vast and indeterminate." + +"Is it?" cried Audubon, intervening in his curious abrupt way, and +with more than his usual energy of protest "Well, indeterminate or no, +it's the one point on which I have no doubt. Most people are only fit +to have their necks broken, and it would be the kindest thing for them +if some one would do it." + +"Well," I said, "at any rate that is a vigorous opinion. Does anyone +else share it?" + +"I do," said Leslie, "on the whole. Most men, if they are not actually +bad, are at best indifferent--'sacs merely, floating with open mouths +for food to slip in.'" + +"Upon my word!" cried Bartlett, "it's wonderful how much you know +about them, considering how very little you've seen of them!" + +"Oh!" I said, turning to him, "then you do not agree with this +estimate?" + +"I!" he said. "Oh, no! I am not a superior person! Most men, I +suppose, are as good as we are, and probably a great deal better!" + +"They might well be that," I replied, "without being particularly +good. But perhaps, as you seem to suggest, it might be better to +confine ourselves to our own experience and consider whether for +ourselves, so far as we can see, we should think life much worth +having, supposing death to be the end of it all." + +"Oh, as to that, of course I should, for my part," cried Ellis, "and +so, I hope, should we all. In fact, I consider it rather monstrous to +ask the question at all." + +"My dear Ellis," I protested, "you are really the most inconsistent of +men! Not a minute ago you were laughing at Wilson for his acquiescence +in the extinction of the individual 'with his opportunities +unrealized, his faculties undeveloped,' and all the rest of it. And +now you appear to be adopting precisely the same attitude yourself." + +"I can't help it," he replied; "consistent or no, life's good enough +for me. And so it should be for you, you ungrateful ruffian!" + +"I am not so sure," I said, "that it should be; not so sure as I was a +few years ago." + +"Why, you Methuselah, what has age got to do with it?" + +"Just this," I replied, "that up to a certain time of life all the +Good that we get we take to be prophetic of more Good to come. What +we actually realize we value less for itself than for something else +which it promises. The moments of good experience we expand till they +fill all infinity; the intervening tracts of indifferent or bad we +simply forget or ignore. Life is good, we say, because the universe +is good; and this goodness we expect to grasp in its entirety, not +to-day, perhaps, nor to-morrow, but at least the day after. And so, +like the proverbial ass, we are lured on by a wisp of hay. But being, +at bottom, intelligent brutes, we begin, in time, to reflect; we put +back our ears, and plant our feet stiff and rigid where we stand, and +refuse to budge an inch till we have some further information as to +the meaning of the journey into which we are being enticed. That, +at least, is the point that has been reached by this ass who is now +addressing you. I want to know something more about that bundle of +hay; and that is why I am interested in the question of personal +immortality." + +"Which means--to drop the metaphor----?" + +"Which means, that I have come to realize that I am not likely to get +more Good out of life than I have already had, and that I may very +likely get less; or if more in some respects, then less in others. +For, in the first place, the world, as it seems, is just as much bad +as good, and whether Good or Bad predominate I cannot say. And in the +second place, even of what Good there is--and I do not under-estimate +its worth--it is but an infinitesimal portion that I am capable of +realizing, so limited am I by temperament and circumstance, so +bound by the errors and illusions of the past, so hampered by the +disabilities crowding in from the future. For though, as I think, the +older I get the more clearly I recognize what is good, and the more I +learn to value and to perceive it, yet at the same time the less do I +become capable of making it my own, and must in the nature of things +become less and less so, in so far at least as Goods other than those +of the intellect are concerned. And this is a position which seems to +be involved in the mere fact of age and death frankly seen from +the naturalistic point of view; and so it has always been felt +and expressed from the time of the Greeks onwards, and not least +effectively, perhaps, by Browning in his 'Cleon'--you remember the +passage: + + "'... Every day my sense of joy + Grows more acute, my soul (intensified + By power and insight) more enlarged, more keen; + While every day my hairs fall more and more, + My hand shakes, and the heavy years increase-- + The horror quickening still from year to year, + The consummation coming past escape, + When I shall know most, and yet least enjoy-- + When all my works wherein I prove my worth, + Being present still to mock me in men's mouths, + Alive still in the phrase of such as thou, + I, I the feeling, thinking, acting man, + The man who loved his life so over-much, + Shall sleep in my urn.' + +"You see the point; indeed, it is so familiar, I have laboured it, +perhaps, too much. But the result seems to be, that while it is +natural enough that in youth, for those who are capable of Good, +life should seem to be pre-eminently worth the having, yet the last +judgment of age, for those who believe that death is the end, will be +a doubt, and perhaps more than a doubt, even in the case of those +most favoured by fortune, whether after all a life has been worth the +trouble of living which has unfolded such infinite promise only to +bury it fruitless in the grave." + +"I think that's rather a morbid view!" said Parry. + +"I do not know," I said, "whether it is morbid, nor do I very much +care; the question is, whether it is reasonable, and whether it is not +the position naturally and perhaps inevitably adopted not by the +worst but by the best men among those who have abandoned the belief in +personal immortality." + +"That," interposed Wilson, "is surely not the case. One knows of +people who, though they have no belief in survival after death, yet +maintain a perfectly cheerful and healthy attitude towards life. +Harriet Martineau is one that occurs to me. To her, you may remember, +life appeared not less but more worth living when she had become +convinced of her own annihilation at death; and she awaited +with perfect equanimity and calm its imminent approach, not as +a deliverance from a condition which was daily becoming more +intolerable, but as a fitting crown and consummation to a career of +untiring and fruitful activity." + +"That," exclaimed Parry with enthusiasm, "is what I call magnanimous!" + +"I don't!" retorted Leslie, "I call it simply stupid and +unimaginative." + +"Call it what you like," said Wilson; "anyhow it is a position which +can be and has been adopted." + +"Yes," I agreed, "but one which, I think, a clearer analysis of the +facts, a franker survey and a more penetrating insight, would make it +increasingly difficult to sustain. And after all, an estimate which is +to endure must be not only magnanimous but reasonable." + +"But to her, and to others like her, it did and does appear to be +reasonable. And you ought to admit, I think, that there are cases in +which life is well worth living quite apart from the hypothesis of +personal immortality." + +"I am ready to admit," I replied, "that there are people to whom it +seems to be so, but I doubt whether they are very numerous, among +those, I mean, who have reflected on the subject, and whose opinions +alone we need consider. I, at any rate, have commonly found in talking +to people about death--supposing, which is unusual, that they are +willing to talk about it at all--that they adopt one of two views, +either of which presupposes the worthlessness of life, if life, as we +know it, be indeed all" + +"What views do you mean?" + +"Why, either they believe that death means annihilation, and rejoice +in the prospect as a deliverance from an intolerable evil; or they +hold that there is a life beyond, and that they will find there the +reason and justification for existence which they have never been able +to discover here." + +"You forget, surely," said Wilson, "a third point of view, which I +should have thought was as common as either of the others,--that of +those who believe in a life after death, but look forward to it with +inexpressible fear of the possible evils which it may contain." + +"True," I said, "but such fear, I suppose, is a reflex of actual +experience, and implies, does it not, a vivid sense of the evils of +existence as we know it? So that these people, too, I should maintain, +have not really found life satisfactory, or they would look forward +with hope rather than fear to the possibility of Its continuance." + +"But in their case, at any rate, the hypothesis of personal +immortality is an aggravation, not a remedy, of the evil." + +"No doubt; but I have been assuming throughout that the hypothesis +involves the realization of that Good which, without it, we recognize +to be unattainable; and it is only in that sense, and from that point +of view, that I have introduced it." + +"Well," he persisted, "considering how improbable the hypothesis is, +I should be very loth to admit that it is one which it is practically +necessary to adopt. And I still maintain that most people do not +require it--ordinary simple people, I mean, who do their work and make +no fuss about it." + +"Perhaps not," I replied, "for it is characteristic of such people +to make no hypothesis at all, but to adopt for the moment any view +suggested by the state of their spirits. But I believe that if ever +you can get a man, no matter how plain and unsophisticated, to reflect +fairly upon his own experience, and to look impartially at the facts +all round, abstracting from all bias of habit and mood and prejudice, +he will admit that if it be true that the individual is extinguished +at death, together with all his possibilities of realizing Good, +then life cannot rationally be judged to be worth the living, however +imperatively we may be compelled to continue to live it." + +"But it Is just that imperative compulsion," cried Parry, "on which I +rely! That seems to me the justification of life--the fact that we are +forced to live! I trust that instinct more than all the inclination in +the world!" + +"But," I said, "when you say that you trust the instinct, do you mean +that you judge it to be good?" + +"Yes, I suppose so." + +"Then in trusting the instinct you are really trusting your reason, +which judges the instinct to be good, or, if not your reason, the +faculty, whatever it be, which judges of Good. And the only difference +between us is, that I try to ascertain what we do really believe to +be good, whereas you accept and cling to a particular judgment about +Good, without any attempt to test it and harmonize it with others." + +"But you admit yourself that all your results are tentative and +problematical in the extreme." + +"Certainly." + +"And yet these results you venture to set in opposition to a simple, +profound, imperative cry of Nature!" + +"Why should I not? For I have no right to suppose that nature is good, +except in so far as I can reasonably judge her to be so." + +"That seems to me a sort of blasphemy." + +"I am afraid," I said, "if I must choose, I would rather blaspheme +Nature than Reason. But I hope I am not blaspheming either. For it may +be that what you call Nature has provided for the realization of Good. +That, at any rate, is the hypothesis I was suggesting; and it is you +who appear to be setting it aside." + +"But," objected Wilson, "you talk of this hypothesis as if it were +something one could really entertain! To me it is not a hypothesis at +all; it's simply an inconceivability." + +"Do you mean that it is self-contradictory?" + +"No, not exactly that. Simply that it is unimaginable." + +"Oh!" I said; "but what one can imagine depends on the quality of +one's imagination! To me, for example, the immortality of the soul +does not seem any harder to imagine than birth and life, and death and +consciousness. It's all such a mystery together, if once one begins +trying to realize it." + +"No one," interposed Ellis, "has put that point better than Walt +Whitman." + +"True," I replied, "and that reminds me that I think you hardly did +justice to his view when you were quoting him a little while ago. It +is true that he does, as you said, accept all facts, good and bad, and +even appears at times to obliterate the distinction between them. But +also, whether consistently or no, he regards them all as phases of +a process, good only because of what they promise to be. So that his +view really requires a belief in immortality to justify it; and to him +such belief is as natural and simple as to Wilson it is absurd. There +is a passage somewhere, I remember--perhaps you can quote it--it +begins, 'Is it wonderful that I should be immortal?'" + +"Yes," he said, "I remember": + + "Is it wonderful that I should be immortal? as every one is + immortal; + + "I know it is wonderful--but my eyesight is equally wonderful, and + how I was conceived in my mother's womb is equally wonderful, + + "And passed from a babe, in the creeping trance of a couple of + summers and winters to articulate and walk. All this is equally + wonderful. + + "And that my soul embraces you this hour, and we affect each other + without ever seeing each other, and never perhaps to see each other, + is every bit as wonderful. + + "And that I can think such thoughts as these is just as wonderful, + + "And that I can remind you, and you think them and know them to be + true, is just as wonderful. + + "And that the moon spins round the earth, and on with the earth, is + equally wonderful, + + "And that they balance themselves with the sun and stars is equally + wonderful." + +"That," I said, "is the passage I meant, and it shows that Whitman, at +any rate, did not share Wilson's feeling that the immortality of the +soul is unimaginable." + +"Well," said Wilson, "imaginable or no, we have no reason to believe +it to be true." + +"No reason, indeed," I agreed, "so far as demonstration is concerned, +though equally, as I think, no reason to deny it. But the point I +raised was, whether, if we are to take a positive view of life and +hold that it somehow has a good significance, we are not bound to +adopt this, hypothesis of immortality--to believe, that is, that, +somehow or other, there awaits us a state of being in which all souls +shall be bound together in that harmonious and perfect relation of +which we have a type and foretaste in what we call love. For, if it be +true that perfect Good does involve some such relation, and yet that +it is one unattainable under the conditions of our present life, then +we must say either that such Good is unattainable--and in that case +why should we idly pursue it?--or that we believe we shall attain it +under some other conditions of existence. And according as we adopt +one or the other position--so it seems to me--our attitude towards +life will be one of affirmation or of negation." + +"But," he objected, "even if you were right in your conception +of Good, and even if it be true that Good in its perfection is +unattainable, yet we might still choose to get at least what Good +we can--and some Good you admit we can get--and might find in that +pursuit a sufficient justification for life." + +"We might, indeed," I admitted, "but also we might very well find, +that the Good we can attain is so small, and the Evil so immensely +preponderant, that we ought to labour rather to bring to an end an +existence so pitiful than to perpetuate it indefinitely in the persons +of our luckless descendants." + +"That, thank heaven," said Parry, "is not the view which is taken by +the Western world." + +"The West" I replied, "has not yet learned to reflect. Its activity is +the slave of instinct, blind and irresponsible." + +"Yes," he assented eagerly, "and that is its saving grace! This +instinct, which you call blind, is health and sanity and vigour." + +"I know," I said, "that you think so, and so does Mr. Kipling, and +all the train of violent and bloody bards who follow the camp of the +modern army of progress. I have no quarrel with you or with them; you +may very well be right in your somewhat savage worship of activity. I +am only trying to ascertain the conditions of your being right, and I +seem to find it in personal immortality." + +"No," he persisted. "We are right without condition, right absolutely +and beyond all argument. Pursue Good is the one ultimate law; whether +or no it can be attained is a minor matter; and if to inquire into the +conditions of its attainment is only to weaken us in the pursuit, then +I say the inquiry is wrong, and ought to be discouraged." + +"Well" I said, "I will not dispute with you further. Whether you are +right or wrong I cannot but admire your strenuous belief in Good +and in our obligation to pursue it. And that, after all, was my main +point. On the other question about what Good is and whether it is +attainable, I could hardly wish to make converts, so conscious am I +that I have infinitely more to learn than to teach. Only, that there +is really something to learn, of that I am profoundly convinced. +Perhaps even Audubon will agree with me there?" + +"I don't know that I do," he replied, "and anyhow it doesn't seem to +me to make much difference. Whatever we may think about Good, that +doesn't affect the nature of Reality--and Reality, I believe, is bad!" + +"Ah, Reality!" I rejoined, "but what is Reality? Is it just what we +see and touch and handle?" + +"Yes, I suppose so." + +"That is a sober view, and one which I have constantly tried to +impress upon myself. Sometimes, even, I think I have succeeded, +under the combined stress of logic and experience. But there comes +an unguarded moment, some evening in summer, like this, when I am +walking, perhaps, alone in a solitary wood, or in a meadow beside a +quiet stream; and suddenly all my work is undone, and I am overwhelmed +by a direct apprehension, or what seems at least for the moment to be +such, that everything I hear and see and touch is mere illusion after +all, and behind it lies the true Reality, if only I could find the +way to seize it. It is due, I suppose, to some native and ineradicable +strain of mysticism; or perhaps, as I sometimes think, to the memory +of a strange experience which I once underwent and have never been +able to forget" + +"What was that?" + +"It will not be very easy, I fear, to describe, but perhaps it may be +worth while to make the attempt, for it bears, more or less, on the +subject of our conversation. Once then, you must know, and once +only, a good many years ago now, I was put under the influence +of anæsthetics; and during the time I was unconscious, or rather, +conscious in a new way, I had a very curious dream, if dream it were, +which has never ceased to affect my thoughts and my life. It was as +follows: + +"As soon as I lost consciousness of the world without, my soul, I +thought, which seemed at first to be diffused throughout my body, +began to draw itself upward, beginning at the feet. It passed through +the veins of the legs and belly to the heart, which was beating like a +thousand drums, and thence by the aorta and the carotids to the brain, +whence it emerged by the fissures of the skull into the outer air. +No sooner was it free (though still attached, as I felt with some +uneasiness, by a thin elastic cord to the pia mater) than it gathered +itself together (into what form I could not say), and with incredible +speed shot upwards, till it reached what seemed to be the floor of +heaven. Through this it passed, I know not how, and found itself all +at once in a new world. + +"What this world was like I must now endeavour to explain, difficult +though it be to find suitable language; for the things here, of which +our words are symbols, are themselves only symbols of the things +there. The feeling I had, however, (for I was now identified with my +soul, and had forgotten all about my body)--the feeling I had was that +of sitting alone beside a river. What kind of country it was I can +hardly describe, for there was nowhere any definite colour or form, +only a suggestion, such as I have seen in drawings, of vast infinite +tracts of empty space. I could not even say there was light or +darkness, for my organ of perception did not seem to be the eye; only +I was aware of an emotional effect similar to that of twilight, cold, +grey, and formless as night itself. The silence was absolute, if +indeed silence it were, for it was not by the ear that I perceived +either sound or its absence; but something there was, analogous to +silence in its effect And in the midst of the silence and the twilight +(since so I must call them) flowed the river, or what seemed such, +distinguishable, as I thought at first, rather by the fact that it +flowed, than by any peculiarity of substance, colour, or form, from +the stretches of empty space that formed its banks. But presently, +as I looked more closely, I saw, rising from its surface, dipping, +rising, and dipping again, in a regular rhythm, without change or +pause, what I can only compare to a shoal of flying fish. Not that +they looked like fish, or indeed like anything I had ever seen, but +that was the image suggested by their motion. As soon as I saw them +I knew what they were: they were souls; and the river down which they +passed was the river of Time; and their dipping in and out again was +the sequence of their lives and deaths. + +"All this did not surprise me at all. Rather, I felt it was +something I had always known, yet something inexpressibly flat and +disillusioning. 'Of course!' I said to myself, or thought, or whatever +may have been my mode of cognition--'Of course! That is it, and that +is all! Souls are indeed immortal--why should we ever have imagined +otherwise? They are immortal, and what of it? I see the death-side +now as I saw the life-side then; and one has as little meaning as the +other. As it has been, so it will be, now, henceforth, and for ever, +in and out, in and out, without pause or stint, futile, trivial, +silly, stale, tedious, monotonous, and vain!' The long pre-occupation +of men with religion, philosophy, and art, seemed to me now as +incomprehensible as it was ridiculous. There was nothing after all to +be interested about! There was simply this! The dreariness of my mood +was indescribable, and corresponded so closely to the scene before +me that I found myself wondering which was effect, which cause. The +silence, the tracts of unformed space, the unsubstantial river, the +ceaseless vibration along its surface of infinite moving points, +all this was a reflex of my thoughts and they of it. My misery was +Intolerable; to escape became my only object; and with this in view I +rose and began to move, I knew not whither, along the silent shore. + +"As I went, I presently became aware of what looked like high towers +standing along the margin of the stream. I say they looked like +towers, but I should rather have said they symbolized them; for they +had no specific shape, round or square, nor any definite substance +or dimensions. They suggested rather, if I may say so, the idea of +verticality; and otherwise were as blank and void of form or colour as +everything else in this strange land. I made my way towards them along +the bank; and when I had come close under the first, I saw that there +was a door in it, and written over the door, in a language I cannot +now recall, but which then I knew that I had always known, an +inscription whose sense was: + + "'_I am the Eye; come into me and see_.' + +"Miserable as I was, it was impossible that I should hesitate; I did +not know, it is true, what might await me within, but it could not be +worse and might well be better than my present plight. The door was +open; I stepped in; and no sooner had I crossed the threshold than I +was aware of an experience more extraordinary and delightful than it +had ever been my lot to encounter. I had the sensation of seeing light +for the first time! For hitherto, as I have tried to explain, though +it has been necessary to speak in terms of sight, I have done so +only by a metaphor, and it was not really by vision that I became +acquainted with the scene I have described. But now I saw, and saw +pure light! And yet not only saw, but, as I thought apprehended it +with the other senses, both with those we know and with others of +which we have not yet dreamt. I heard light, I tasted and touched it, +it enveloped and embraced me; I swam in it as in an element, wafted +and washed and luxuriantly lapped. Pure light, and nothing else! +No objects, at first! It was only by degrees, and as the first +intoxication subsided, that I began to be aware of anything but the +medium itself. I saw then that I was standing at what seemed to be a +window, looking out over the scene I had just left But how changed it +was! The river now, like a blue and golden snake, ran through a sunny +champaign bright with flowers; above it hung a cloudless summer sky; +and the happy souls went leaping in and out like dolphins on a calm +day in the Mediterranean. On all this I gazed with inexpressible +delight; but as I looked an extraordinary thing occurred. The flowery +plain before me seemed to globe itself into a sphere; the blue river +clasped it like a girdle; for a moment it hung before me like a star, +then opened out and split into a thousand more, and these again into +others and yet others, till a whole heaven of stars was revolving +about me in the most wonderful dance-measure you can conceive, +infinitely complex, but never for a moment confused, for the stars +were of various colours, more beautiful far than any of ours, and by +these, as they crossed and intertwined in exquisite harmonies, the +threads of the intricate figure were kept distinct. + +"What I was looking upon, I knew, was the same heaven that our +astronomers describe; only I was privileged actually to perceive +the movements they can only infer and predict. For here on earth our +faculties are proportioned to our needs, and our apprehension of time +and change is measured by units too small for us to be able to embrace +by sense the large and spacious circuits of the stars. But I, in my +then condition, had powers commensurate with all existence; so that +not only could I follow with the eye the coils of that celestial +morrice, but in each one of the whirling orbs, as they approached +or receded in the dance, I could trace, so far as I was minded, +the course of its secular history; whole series of changes and +transformations such as we laboriously infer, from fossils and rocks +and hard unmalleable things, being there (as though petrifaction were +reversed and solidest things made fluid) unrolled before me, molten +and glowing and swift, in a stream of torrential evolution whose +moments were centuries. Wonderful it was, and strange, to see the +first trembling film creep like a mantle over a globe of fire, shiver, +and break, and form again, and gradually harden and cohere, now +crushed into ridges and pits, now extended into plains, and tossing +the hissing seas from bed to bed, as the levels of the viscous surface +rose and fell. Wonderful, too, when the crust was formed and life +became possible, how everywhere, in wet or dry, hot or cold alike, +wherever footing could be found, came up and flourished and decayed +things that root and things that move, winged or finned or legged, +creeping, flying, running, breeding, in mud or sand, in jungle, +forest, and marsh, pursuing and pursued, devouring and devoured, +pairing, contending, killing, things huge beyond belief, mammoth +and icthyosaurus, things minute and numerous past the power of +calculation, coming and going as they could find space, species +succeeding to species, and crowding every point and vantage for life +on the heaving tumultuous bosom of eddying worlds. + +"Wonderful it was, but terrible, too; for what struck me with a kind +of chill, even while I was wrapt in admiration, was the fact that +though everything was in constant change, and in the change there was +clearly an order and routine, yet I could not detect anything that +seemed like purpose. Direction there was, but not direction to an end; +for the end was no better than the beginning, it was only different; +the idea of Good, in short, did not apply. And this fact, which was +striking enough in the case of the phenomena I have described, made +itself felt with even more insistence when I turned to consider the +course of human history. For that too I saw unrolled before me, not +only on our own, but on innumerable other worlds, in various phases +and in various forms, both those which we know, and others of which we +have no conception, and which I am now quite unable to recall. Men +I saw housing in caves, or on piles in swamps and lakes, dwellers in +wagons and tents, hunters, or shepherds under the stars, men of the +mountain, men of the plain, of the river-valley and the coast, nomad +tribes, village tribes, cities, kingdoms, empires, wars and peace, +politics, laws, manners, arts and sciences. Yet in all this, so far as +I could observe, although, through all vacillations, there appeared +to be a steady trend in a definite direction, there was nothing to +indicate what we call purpose. Men, I saw, had ideas about Good, but +these ideas of theirs, though they were part of the efficient causes +of events, were in no sense the explanation of the process. There +was no explanation, for there was no final cause, no purpose, end, or +justification at all. Man, like nature, was the plaything of a blind +fate. The idea of Good had no application. + +"The horror I felt as this truth (for so I thought it) was borne in +upon me was proportioned to my previous delight. I had now but one +desire, to escape, even though it were only back to what I had left. +And as the Angel-Boys in 'Faust' cry out to Pater Seraphicus for +release, when they can no longer bear the sights they see through +his eyes, so I, in my anguish, cried, 'Let me out! Let me out!' And +instantly I found myself standing again at the foot of the tower, in +that land of twilight, silence, and infinite space, with the souls +going down the river, in and out, in and out, futile, trivial, +tedious, monotonous, and vain. Looking up, I saw written over the door +from which I had emerged, and which was opposite to that by which I +had entered, words whose sense was: + + "'_Eye hath not seen_.' + +"I walked round the Tower, and found a third door facing the river; and +over that was written: + + "'_Turris scientiae_.' + +"But all these doors were now closed; nor indeed, had they been open, +should I have felt any inclination to renew the experience from which +I had escaped. I therefore turned away sadly enough and made my way +along the bank towards the second tower. + +"Over the door of this was written in the same language as before: + + "'_I am the Ear; come into me and hear_.' + +"The door was open, and I went in, this time with some apprehension, +but with still more curiosity and hope. No sooner was I within than I +was overwhelmed by an experience analogous to that which had greeted +me in the Tower of Sight, but even more ravishingly sweet. This time +what I felt was the sensation of pure sound: sound, not merely heard, +but, as before in the case of light, apprehended at once by every +avenue of sense, and folding and sustaining, as it seemed, my whole +being in a clear and buoyant element of tone. It was only by degrees +that out of this absolute essence of sheer sound distinctions of +rhythm and pitch began to appear, and to assume definite musical form. +The theme at first was pastoral and sweet, suggestive of rustling +grasses and murmuring reeds, interwoven with which was an exquisite +lilting tune, the song of the souls as they sped down the river. +But one by one other elements crept into the strain; it increased in +volume and variety of tone, in complexity of rhythm and tune, till it +grew at length into a symphony so august, so solemn, and so profound, +that there is nothing I know of in our music here to which I can fitly +compare it. It reminded me, however, of Wagner more than of any other +composer, in the richness of its colour, the insistence and force of +its rhythms, its fragments of ineffable melody, and above all, its +endless chromatic sequences, for ever suggesting but never actually +reaching the full close which I knew not whether most to dread or +to desire. The music itself was wonderful enough; but more wonderful +still was my clear perception, while I listened, that what was being +presented to me now through the medium of sound was precisely the same +world which I had seen from the Tower of Sight. Every phenomenon, and +sequence of phenomena, which I had witnessed there, I recognized now, +in appropriate musical form. The foundation of all was a great basal +rhythm, given out on something that throbbed like drums, terrible in +its persistence and yet beautiful too; and this, I knew, represented +the mechanical basis of the world, the processes which science +knows as 'laws of motion' and the like, but which really, as I then +perceived, might more aptly be described as the more inveterate of +Nature's habits. Upon this foundation, which varied, indeed, but by +almost imperceptible gradations, was built up an infinitely complex +structure of intermediate parts, increasing from below upwards in +freedom, ease and beauty of form, till high above all floated on the +ear snatches of melody, haunting, poignant, meltingly tender, or, +as it might be, martial and gay exquisite in themselves, yet never +complete, fragments rather, as it seemed, of some theme yet to come, +which they had hardly time to suggest before they were torn, as it +were, from their roots and sent drifting down the stream, to reappear +in new settings, richer combinations, and fairer forms; and these, I +knew, were symbols of the lives and deaths of conscious beings. + +"As this character of the music and its representative meaning grew +gradually clearer to me, there began to mingle with my delight a +certain feeling of anguish. For while, on the one hand, I passionately +desired to hear given out in full the theme which as yet had been only +suggested in fragmentary hints, on the other, I knew that with its +appearance the music would come to a close, just at the moment when +its cessation would involve the keenest revulsion of feeling. And this +moment, I felt, was rapidly approaching. The rhythm grew more and +more rapid, the instruments scaled higher and higher, the tension of +chromatic progressions was strained to what seemed breaking point, +till suddenly, with an effect as though a stream, long pent in a +gorge, had escaped with a burst into broad sunny meadows, the whole +symphony broke away into the major key, and high and clear, chanted, +as it seemed, on ten thousand trumpets, silver, æthereal, and +exquisitely sweet for all their resonant clangour, I heard the +ultimate melody of things. For a moment only; for, as I had foreseen, +with the emergence of that air, the music came abruptly to a close; +and I found myself sitting bathed in tears at the door of the tower on +the opposite side to that by which I had entered; and there once more +was the land of silence, twilight, and infinite space, with the +souls going down the river, in and out, in and out, futile, trivial, +tedious, monotonous and vain! + +"As soon as I had recovered myself, I looked up and saw written over +the door the inscription: + + "'_Ear hath not heard_.' + +"And going round to the side facing the river, I saw there inscribed: + + "'_Turris Artis_?' + +"Whereupon, full of perplexity, I made my way down towards the third +tower, reflecting, as I went; in a curious passion at once of hope and +fear, 'Neither this, then, nor that, neither Eye nor Ear, has given me +what I sought. Each is a symbol; but this, as it seems, a more perfect +symbol than that; for it, at least, is Beauty, and the other was only +Power. But is there, then, nothing but symbols? Or shall I, in one of +these towers, shall I perhaps find the thing that is symbolized?' + +"By this time I had reached the third tower, and over the door facing +me I saw written: + + "'_I am the Heart; come into me and feel_.' + +"I entered without hesitation, and this time I was met by an experience +even stranger and more delightful than before, but also, I fear, more +indescribable. At first, I was aware of nothing but a pure feeling, +which was not of any particular sense, (as, before, of sight and +hearing,) but was rather, I think, the general feeling of Life itself, +the kind of diffused sensation of well-being one has in health, +underlying all particular activities. In this sensation I seemed, as +before, to be lapped, as in an element; but this time the feeling +did not pass. On the contrary, I found, when I came to myself, that I +actually was in the river, leaping along with the other souls in such +an ecstasy of physical delight as I have never felt before or since. +Such, at least, was my first impression; but gradually it changed +into something which I despair of rendering in words, for indeed I +can hardly render it in my own thoughts. Conceive, however, that as, +according to the teaching of science, every part of matter is affected +by every other, insomuch that, as they say, the fall of an apple +disturbs the balance of the universe; so, in my experience then, (and +this, I believe, is really true) all souls were intimately connected +by spiritual ties. Nothing that happened in one but was somehow or +other, more or less obscurely, reflected in the rest, so that all were +so closely involved and embraced in a network of fine relations that +they formed what may be compared to a planetary system, sustained +in their various orbits by force of attraction and repulsion, +distinguished into greater and lesser constellations, and fulfilling +in due proportion their periods and paths under the control of +spiritual laws. Of this system I was myself a member; about me were +grouped some of my dearest friends; and beyond and around stretched +away, like infinite points of light, in a clear heaven of passion, +the world of souls. I speak, of course, in a figure, for what I am +describing in terms of space, I apprehended through the medium of +feeling; and by 'feeling' I mean all degrees of affection, from +extreme of love to extreme of hate. For hate there was, as well as +love, the one representing repulsion, the other attraction; and by +their joint influence the whole system was sustained. It was not, +however, in equilibrium; at least, not in stable equilibrium. There +was a trend, as I soon became aware, towards a centre. The energy of +love was constantly striving to annihilate distance and unite in a +single sphere the scattered units that were only kept apart by the +energy of hate. This effort I felt proceeding in every particular +group, and, more faintly, from one group to another: I felt it with +an intensity at once of pain and of rapture, such as I cannot now even +imagine, much less describe; and most of all did I feel it within +the limits of my own group, of which some of those now present +were members. But within this group in particular I was aware of an +extraordinary resistance. One of its members, I thought, (I mention no +names,) steadily refused either to form a closer union with the rest +of us, or to enter into more intimate relations with other groups. +This resistance I felt in the form of an indescribable tension, a +tension which grew more and more acute, till suddenly the whole system +seemed to collapse, and I found myself in darkness and alone, being +dragged down, down, by the cord which attached me to my body. At the +same time there was a roaring in my ears, and I saw my body, as I +thought, like a fearful wild beast with open jaws; it swallowed me +down, and I awoke with a shock to find myself in the operator's room, +with a voice in my ears which somehow sounded like Audubon's, though +I afterwards ascertained it was really that of the assistant, uttering +the rather ridiculous words, 'I don't see why!' + +"That, then, was the end of my dream, and I have never since been able +to continue it, and to discover what was written over the other doors +of the third tower, or what lay within the towers I did not enter. +So that I have had to go on ever since with the knowledge I then +acquired, that whatever Reality may ultimately be, it is in the life +of the affections, with all its confused tangle of loves and hates, +attractions, repulsions, and, worst of all, indifferences, it is +in this intricate commerce of souls that we may come nearest to +apprehending what perhaps we shall never wholly apprehend, but the +quest of which alone, as I believe, gives any significance to life, +and makes it a thing which a wise and brave man will be able to +persuade himself it is right to endure." + +With that I ended; and Wilson was just beginning to explain to me +that my dream had no real significance, but was just a confused +reproduction of what I must have been thinking about before I took +the æther, when we were interrupted by the arrival of tea. In the +confusion that ensued Audubon came over to me and said: "It was +curious your dreaming that about me, for it is exactly the way I +should behave." + +"Of course it is," I replied, "and that, no doubt, is why I dreamt +it." + +"Well," he said, "you can say what you like, but I really do _not_ see +why!" And with that the conversation I had to report closed. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12508 *** |