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S O C IA L
L I T E RA RY PA PE R S
CHARLES CHAUNCY SHACKFORD
Profasor in
B O STON
R O B E R T S B R O TH E R S
BY ROBERTS BROTHERS.
finihetsitg iBrcss
JOHN WILSON AND SON , CAMBRIDGE, U .S .A .
NOTE .
THE Essays contained i n th is vo lume were pre
pared for and read before various l iterary clubs
and societi es , mostly in Boston and its vicinity .
Their printing was begun but a Short time previous
to the death of the Author, the proofs of less than
one hundred pages having passed under his scru
tiny . The wo rk Of ed ito rial supervision was then
committed to the hands ofMr. A . W . STEVENS of
the University Press, who , i n p rosecuting the task,
has been studiously regardful of what he bel ieves
would have been both the wish and the deed of the
A utho r.
I n clos ing his work, the Editor canno t refrain
from expressing h is hearty appreciation of the
great value and timel iness of many of the d is
e uss ions carried on i n these pages .
A . W. 8 .
APRIL, 1892.
1 1 25543
C O NT E N T S .
PAGE
fESCHYLUS ON SOME MODERN SOCIAL PROBLEMS
A SATIRIST IN THE SECOND CENTURY
A SCEPTIC IN THE E IGHTEENTH CENTURY
NEMESIS IN GREEK TRAGEDY
THE POPE IN“THE RING AND THE BOOK
BROWN ING’S
“ IN A BALCONY
THE GREEK COMEDY OF MANNERS
PLATO ’
S REPUBLIC
ARISTOTLE ’S
“POLITICS
SOCIAL PROGRESS
SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLEMS
SOCIAL TENDENCIES
THE NATION AS AN ORGAN ISM IN SHAKSPEARE .
THE COMMON REASON IN SOCIAL REFORMS
HISTORY AS DEVELOPMENT
SOCIAL AND LITERARYPAPERS.
E SCHYLUS ON SOME MODERN SOCIAL
PROBLEMS.
E SCHYLUS, the founder of the Greek lyr i c drama,po sses sed a sou l s everely grand l ike that ofMi lton ,aust ere ly j ust l ike that of Dante ; and, l ike thes e
poets,h e too was drawn toward th e re l igious
,
moral,and soc ia l prob lems of h i s t ime and of a l l
t ime. These great masters of poet ry are dr iven
by a m ighty wind ; they are the vo i ces of an un
counted mu lt i tude ; and so must i t be with al l the
great bards of the world’
s great l i t erature.
NO deeper prob lems occupy now the thought of
mank i nd than thos e wh ich make the contents of
the Prometheus ”of zE schylus. There rema in s
to us on ly one of the parts of th i s t r i logy, — thesecond
,or m iddl e one ,
—and the s t ructure can becompl eted on ly by i nference ; but what we have i s
enough to Show the groundwork Of the who l e.
I n the Prometheus ” i s symbo l i zed the progress
of the human race ; and under th i s statement we
have a representat i on of the poet ’ s v i ew ofman ’ s
re lat ion to the un iverse,of the advance of cu lture
IO E SCH YL US 01V
and c iv i l i zat ion , and of tho s e prob lems of m ight
and r ight,of j ust i ce and equal i ty, of those eternal
laws of progress ive change for good,wh ich i t i s
the work today of sc i ence to estab l i sh for the
sat i sfact ion of man ’ s reason and i nt e l l ect .
A ccord ing to the appearance that Nature pre
sents to the fi rst men , ignorant of any means of
prot ecti on, of defence, — what i s i t s aspect ? Evi
dently, that of a host i l e, tyrann i cal , merc i l ess bei ng, now blast i ng w ith burn i ng heat
,now crys
tal l izing with icy co ld , now send i ng, accord ing to
h i s p l easure,the dead ly arrows of pest i l ence, now
sapp ing the strength by o ldage, and ext i ngu i sh ing
a l l by death . I n soc ial l ife al so are found m ight
of arm and cunn ing of bra i n,secur i ng to them
se lves wealth and power,and then p lunged i nto
the lowe s t wretchedness,— the ru l er of a peopl e
beggi ng h i s bread ; the dwel l er i n palaces an out
cast i n the desert,glad to find shelt er i n a cave,
and Share w ith the wi ld beast i t s prey. Man
seems desp i sed and hated by some h igher powers .
The gods envy h i s too great prosper i ty : they are
i nd ifferent to h i s good . Everywhere i s the spec
tacl e of t r iumphant m ight , - and of man,feebl e,
i gnorant,suffering under number l ess i l l s , dy in g
from generat ion to generat i on, yet engaged i n a
hand - to -hand struggl e w ith th i s seem ingly i rre
s istibl e force.
What must first free h im ? Knowledge, fore
s ight,the d iv i ne spark with i n of asp i rat i on and
unconquerabl e wi l l ; the never-rest i ng des i re to
S OME MODERN SOCIAL PROB LEMS . 1 1
better h i s cond it ion,to find out a l l Secrets
,and
use for h imself every d ivi ne force, every h idden
power. Whatever furthers th i s t endency to free
and help human ity i s man’
s fr i end, man’
s bene
factor, man’ s d iv i ne protector and champ ion .
With a d ifferent theory of the or igi n and pro
gress of c iv i l i zat i on from that wh i ch looked back
to an age of go ld, and la id i t s parad i se i n some
far-off per iod Of blessed i nnocence and of happycontentment with the gods
,fE schylus descr ibes
the early cond i t i on of the human race as but j ust
removed from that ofbrutes :
They dwe ltIn hollowedhole s , l ike swarms of t iny antsIn sunle ss depths Of cave rns ; andth e y hadNo ce rtain s igns ofwinte r, nor of springFlowe r-laden, nor of summe r with h er fruits .
And i n another p lace he says ,
I, poor I, through g ivingG reat gifts to mortal men, am prisone r madeIn the se fast fe tte rs ; yea, in fe nne l stalkI snatch edth e h idden spring of sto len fire ,Which i s to men ateache r ofall arts ,The ir chie f re source .
”
I n Prometheus , then , i s represented that grand
idea of a progress ive cu lture,under the sym
bo l ic form of a T itan i c contest w ith the Ru lerof the wor ld, the Power that has seated it se lf bymere force on the throne
,and who hates the h u
man race, so that he i s w i l l i ng to s ee i t per i sh ,
that i t s p lace may be suppl i ed by creatures of h i s
1 2 E SCH YLUS 01V
Own. In the v i ew ofE schylus, Zeus h imselfwas
subj ect to a power wh i ch he must acknowledge,or
h imse lf i n turn be overthrown . Th is power,more
over, was not the mere b lank, r ig id fate wh i ch i s
often spoken of,not the b l i nd
,i rres i st ib l e chance
for wh i ch no one cou ld account,and before wh ich
each one must quake and trembl e ; but th i s power
was the Et erna l Just i ce,the law of r ight
,the ever
last i ng balance, harmony, and proport i on Of al l
th ings human and d iv i ne,wh i ch ra i sed up the low
and cast down the h igh,wh i ch v i s i t ed arrogance with
hum i l iat i on,wh i ch leve l led every excess, and fi l l ed
up every ho l e and cranny of the un iverse with the
needed supply. Prometheus bold ly contended for
r ight agai nst m ight,for th e '
suffering aga inst h i s
potent oppressor,for the v i l e worm aga i nst h im
who trampl ed i t i n the dust . He ident ified h im
selfwith the race of men,was the i r champ ion and
sav ior ; and therefore he suffered.
I . For the poet recogn i zed the fundamental law
of al l human growth and progress, —the law of
martyrdom ,— and has embod i ed i t i n that god l ike
fo rm sp iked to the bare Caucasus
Beho ldme bound, agodto evil doomed,Th e foe ofZe us , andhe ldIn hatredby all godsWho treadth e courts ofZeusAndth is for my great love ,Too g reat formortal men.
”
Th is law of martyrdom is seen i n the'
very con
stitution of the natural wor ld . Each success ive
SOME M ODERN SOCIAL PROBLEMS . I3
step of as cend ing l ife i s ga i ned by the render ing
up of l ife i n that wh i ch precedes ; growth comes
out ofdecay, l ife out ofdeath . The earth i s fert i l e
becaus e i nnumerable forms have l ived and d i ed.
The so l idest rock i s crumbled i nto finest, impalpa
ble powder ; the hardest m ineral renders up itsform ,
and,equal ly with the tenderest moss disinte
grat i ng at the touch,i t becomesdi sso lved i nto dust ;
plants spr ing ing from these i nhal e the atmosphere
and rai ns of heaven and m i n i ster i ng j u ices of the
so i l,and then give themse lves up i n turn to an imal
and man . Each h igher form l ives by th e martyrdom
of some lower, and death i s everywhere the pr i ce
of l ife . I s i t any d ifferent i n th e mora l and soc ia l
spheres ? I s not th e present c iv i l i zat i on of the
wor ld i t s knowledge, art, comfort, we l l -bei ng
the resu l t of i nnumerab l e sorrows and deaths ? IS
not every stone of th e foundat ion and every jo i nt ofthe r i s ing superst ructure cemented by blood of th e
body, blood Of th e m ind, blood of the very heart
and sou l of the noblest of the race i n every age
and among every people , from the earl i est moment
unt i l th i s very hour i n wh i ch we breath e our l i tt l e
l ives ? Not a lone upon th e batt l e-fie ld,th e g ibbet
,
the cross,—not a lone i n dungeons and fi l thy pr i s ~
on-ce l l s,have martyrs st ruggled and suffered for
the good ofman ; but on sea and i n the w i lderness,i n the workshop and the study, the p ioneer of t ruth
has swung h i s axe,has gazed into the heavens , has
pored over the anna l s of the past, has de lved and
to i l ed,has despai red and hoped aga in , has seen th e
14 E SCH YL US ON
stars r i se and set , the sun pursue h i s dai ly course ,and seasons come and go , stil l eager for the com
ing truth,watch ing for the new day,
look ing through
t earfu l eyes for a l ight that no mortal eye has ever
seen,a good that h i s own sou l wh i spers Shal l one
day be the her i tage ofal l h i s fe l low -men .
Th i s law of l ife F i chte has thus enunc iated
Nothing individual can l ive in itself or for itself,but
all l ive in the whole and this whole unceasing ly dies fori tse lf in unspeakable love, that i t may rise again in new
l ife . This is the spiritual law : al l that comes into beingfalls a sacrifice to an eternally increasing and ascendinglife and this law constantly rules ove r all, without wait ingfor the consent ofany. Here alone lie s the dist inction
,
whether man allow himse lfto be led,w ith the halte r round
his neck,l ike abeast to the slaughter, or freely and nobly
brings his l ife a g ift to the altar ofthe eternal l ife, in the ful lfore-enjoyment of the l ife which is to arise from its ashes .
”
Does a man,then
,real ly want to do good to
man ? What must h e look for ? Martyrdom,
that i s,he must h imse lf share i n the sufferi ng
that h e wou ld rel i eve ; he mu s t h imse lf take upon
h is own shou lders the burden he wou ld remove .
The depth of h i s suffer ing must be i n proport ion
to the wretchedness h e al l ev iates . The cup of
human woe,who can dr i nk i t Off? Yet i t must
be dru nk off; and because i t must , Zeus was cal l ed
tyrant , usurper, regardl es s of the welfare of the
race of men . So he seemed to the ear l i es t rude
V i ew ; but th i s v i ew recedes, and , as man s ees the
real b lessedness of the law,i t i s the law not of
SOME M ODERN SOCIAL PROBLE AIS . IS
death,but of l ife. [E schylus h imse lf, i n another
drama,
“ The Suppl iants , says ,
All that Godwo rks is effortle ss andcalm ;Seatedon loftiest th rone ,Thence , though we know not how
,
He works h is perfe ct wil l .”
Aga in,the poet addresses h im as b lest above al l
b l essed ones ,” as
Our Fath e r, author ofour l ife ,D i re cting al l h is plans,Th e great Maste r workman, Zeus .
All the great l egends of mytho logy recogn i ze
th i s law,and thus Show its un iversal i ty. The
hero,to save h i s country, must l eap i nto th e
yawn i ng chasm . The serpent cannot be s la i n
un l es s i ts S layer rece ives a fatal hurt . The be
leagured c i ty can be taken , but the pr i ce of v i c
to ry i s th e death of th e be loved ch i ef. To benefi t
man,the gods themse lves must be incarnate
,and
share h i s dai ly l ife .
But more s ign ificant than a l l i s th i s story Of
Prometheus,th e god -descended lover of th e m is
e rable race of men,who br i ngs to them fi re
,the
arts,the gifts , wh i ch en nobl e and bl ess human ity.
But the pr i ce must .be paid . H is heart i s devoured
on ly to be perpetual ly renewed. The thunderbo l t
S i nks h im to Hades . He s i nks,cry i ng out ,
0 Mo th e r vene rableO E the r ! rol ling round,Th e common l ight ofall,Se e ye what wrong s I bear ?
I 6 £5011”US ON
Have we any so l ut ion to th i s prob l em of the
ages ? Can we do good on any other terms ? Be a
refo rmer, ifyou wi l l ; but noth i ng wi l l be reformed
un less you h ear i n your own heart and m ind and
sou l the ev i l you wou ld remove . Wo rk for the
sorrowing,the debased
,the oppressed
,under any
form,and the good wi l l be i n proport ion to the
b i tter i ngred ients that fi l l one ’ s own cup . By no
h igh road of sc i ence have we ye t escaped th e
Operat ion of th i s un iversal necess i ty. The an
swer to the probl em i s found on ly i n the h igher
law of l ove , wh ich t ransforms the external pain
i nto the h ighest Sp i r i tual b l es sedness .
I n Prometheus the poet has symbol i zed human
ity endowed with a d iv i n e spark of i nt e l l igence,
ra i sed by th i s above the brute, eager for a l l
knowl edge,res i st i ng al l demands that he shal l
uncond it ional ly subm i t and bow h imse lf i n h u
m il ity before th e crush i ng m ight of Nature and
natural forces,bel i ev i ng
,aga inst a l l the threat s
of pa i n and al l th e wretchedness hur l ed upon h i s
head,that he shal l yet t r iumph and be b l essed .
Prometheus t rusts i n the prophet i c utt eran ce of
h i s mother,Them is ; that i s , in r ighteous O rder,
ho ly Just i ce, harmon ious Law.
The tender-hearted ocean -nymphs t e l l h im he
has s i nned,though a m ist of fear and fu l l of
t ears comes o’
e r the i r eyes .” The rough but
fr i endly O ceanus comes to advi se h im“ to know
h imse lf and fi t h imself to words fu l l n ew,
” to
humble h imse lf and recogn ize in h i s suffer i ng
SOIL/E M ODE RN SOCIAL PROBLEM S . I7
the pun i shment of h i s over-lofty Speech . The
fac i l e Hermes , messenger of Zeus,b ids h im “ be
wise,and not t o th i nk that se lf-wi l led pr ide Shal l
ever prove better than good counse l . The chorus,
too, chants the beauty of imp l i c i t Obed ience to the
enthroned power that ru l es by might , and not byr ight
Swe e t is i t in strong hopeTo spend long years of l i fe ,With bright and che e ring joyOur heart ’s thoughts nouri sh ing .
I shudde r, se e ing the eThus vexedandharas sedsoreBy twi ce ten thousandwoe sFor thou in pr ide ofheart,Having no fear ofZe us,In th ine own obstinacy,Dost Show for mortal menAffe ct ion ove r-g reat,Prome the us, —yea, too great.
”
An em inent commentator, the Rev. Edward H .
Plumptre , adds h i s vo i ce to that Of these poo r
comfo rt ers Of the m ighty sufferer, say i ng that
fEschylus here embod ied the t ruth that the first‘
resu l t of the possess ion and the consc iousness
of en larged powers i s a new se lf-assert ion , the
sp i r i t of i ndependence and rebe l l ion agai nst the
contro l of a d ivi n e order, the‘many i nvent ions
that t end to ev i l,an outburst of imp i ety and law
l essness,need i ng the d is c ip l i ne of pun i shment be
fore i t can be brought round aga i n i nto a noble r
harmony.
”
How complete ly does th i s utterance ch ime with
1 8 E SCH YLUS ON
the words put i nto the mouth of the chorus ! Re
bel l ion aga i nst a d ivi ne order,
” “ se lf-assert ion,
many i nvent ions tend ing to ev i l , says the Engl i sh c lergyman .
“ Pr ide of heart,havi ng no fear
of Zeus,sang the t empor i z i ng chorus . How
much eas i er and sweeter to conform,to s ign the
accept ed creed,to enjoy what good s the pre sent
ru l i ng gods vouchsafe,than to fol low the h ighest
i nsp i rat ion,to do the good deed and speak the
protest i ng word that leads to soc ial martyrdom !Rebe l l ion aga inst the contro l of a d iv i n e order.Not such i s the representat ion offEschylus, whose
Zeus,i n the Prometheus ,
” was on ly a d iv i ne order
in Me making ,not the father and mai nta i ner of the
harmon ious order of the world,whom he e l sewhere
present s . The Greek godwas i n a process of evo
lution,as wel l as the Greek world and the Greek
man . Out ofpr imeval chaos and n ight , out of the
contend i ng powers of Nature and the fierce t en
denc ie s of men , was to be final ly establ i shed that
law of wh ich “ no less i s acknow l e g ed than that
h er seat i s the bosom of God, her vo i ce the har
mony of the world, to whom al l th i ngs i n heaven
and earth do homage,the very l east as fee l ing her
care,and the greatest as not exempted from her
power,— al l
,with un iform consent
,adm i r i ng her
as th e mother of the i r peace and joy.
Many, many ages were t o pas s away before th i s
cou ld be establ i shed i n the m ind and heart Of
the race . Meanwh i l e,human i ty mu s t suffer, and
cou ld on ly be redeemed by“ se lf-assert i on , by
20 E SCH YLUS ON
author ity, by appeal s to fear, and by manacl es of
rest ra i nt,—whoever he may be, and under what
soever name he may i nt rench h imse lf, he be longs
to that c lass who wou ld say to Prometheus in the
words of the Sh ifty Hermes ,
Search we l l , be wi se , nor think that se lf~will edprideShal l eve r be tte r prove than counse l good.
2 . I n [Eschylus further i s to be found that
pr i nc ip l e ofwh ich we hear so much at the present
day, the law of hered i ty ; a law as abso lute as
fat e,dest i ny, i rres i st ib l e neces s i ty. The doom
hovers over a race . The t err ib l e and avenging
Fur i es cannot h e escaped, because not mere ly the
anc i ent cr ime,but the anc i ent tendency to crime
,
su rv ives,and at last works out the final re tribu
t ion,
-the pur ificat ion of the evi l sta i n from the
earth . The ev i l -doer fi l l s up the cup of s i n ; and
not unt i l he does fi l l th i s up free ly, and from th e
groundwork of h i s own se lf-det erm ined wi l l , does
the fearfu l vengeance descend upon h i s head.
Thus the choru s chant s i n the O reste ia :
Be cause ofbloodthat moth e r earth has drunk,Th e gu ilt ofslaughte r that wi l l vengeance workIs fixed inde l ibly ;AndAte , working g rie f,Pe rm i ts awh i le th e guilty one to wait,That SO h e may be full andove rflowWith all-devouring il l.
No ! with h im there i s no background of cause
l ess fatal i ty from wh ich there i s no escape,and
SOME M OD E RN SOCIAL PROB LEAIS . 2 1
wh ich works at random with i t s fearfu l hurl i ng of
the thunderbo l t at a ventu re .
Ne ither does he g ive that o lde r vi ew of the gods
as envy i ng the too great prosper i ty of a mortal
man,whom therefore they thrust down from h i s
lofty p i nnacl e of happ i ness . On ly as r i ches and
power brought w ith them arrogance and lawless
freedom in evi l, on ly as presumptuous i nso lence
fo l lowed upon unmeasured prosper i ty, d id the un
S l eep i ng eye of a r ighteous j ust i ce st r ike down and
ann ih i late the Offender . What can be c leare r in
s tatement than the chora l st rophe,
The re live s asaying , framedin Olden days,In memorie s ofme n, that h ig h e stateFull g rown brings forth i ts young , nor chi ldle ss die s ;Andthat from g reat succe ssSpring s to th e race awoe insatiable .
But I, apart from all ,Holdth i s my cre edaloneThat impious act it is that offspring bre eds ,Like to th e i r pare nt stockFor still in every houseThat love s th e right, the ir fate for e ve rmoreHath issue goodandfai r.
”
Yes ; man i nher i t s the tendenc i es to vi ce, t o
ev i l -do i ng,to i nsan i ty, to drunkenness, to fol ly,
as we l l as tendenc i es to vi rtue,to r ight -do i ng and
r ight -fee l i ng,to pur i ty and mora l st rength . The
O ld poet has not m is i nterpreted or m i sappl i ed the
g reat Soc ia l law that l i es at the bas i s of much of
the ph i lanthrop i c effort of today. He has echoed
and re -echoed i t s fearfu l truth ; and so much of a
22 E SCH YL US ON
remors e l ess fat e as lurks i n the asse rt ion of the
modern ph i lanthrop i st,th e modern sc i ent ifi c sta
tist, so much and no more pervades h i s state lyverse . NO more of a fat e, bl i nd and res i st less,hovers w ith b lack w ings over h is rhythm ical page
than over that of Shakspeare . I n both we can
c l early read the law of hered i ty, and the ove rru li ng powers of j ust i ce and of r ight . I n both are
presented the same essent ia l facts ; but they are
presented from d ifferent s ides,i n Ai schylus from
the d iv i n e,and i n Shaksp eare from the human S i de
but i n both is the work i ng out of the same har
monious order, the restor i ng of the same equalbalance of unerr i ng ret r ibut ion . I n ne i ther can
any hopefu l struggl e be made aga i nst the h igher
decrees of wisdom,order
,j ust i ce
,and truth . In
Shakspeare we see that no man can fl ee from
h imse lf; i n E schylus, that no man can flee from
Zeus :
Hardare th e se thing s to judg eTh e spoil e r Shall be spo iled,Th e S laye r pay h is debt ;Yea, whil e Ze us l ive th through th e ag e s , thisL i ve s also
,that th e doe r h ear h is de ed
For th i s is H eaven’s de cre e .
Wh o now can drive from out th e king ly houseTh e broodofcurse s dark ?
Th e house to Ate cleaves .
”
That i s why she cannot be dr iven out, because
th e house cl eaves to her, and not because she
c leaves to the house .
Matthew A rno ld,quot ing th i s passage from
SOIL/E M ODE RN SOCIAL PROBLEMS . 23
Davison,Consc i ence and the present const i tut i on
of th ings are not correspond i ng terms : i t i s con
sc i ence and the issue of th i ngs wh i ch go together,”
remarks
“ It is so ; and this is what makes the spec tacle of hu
man alTairS so edifying and SO subl ime. The world goeson
,nations and men arrive and depart with varying for
tune,as it appears
,w ith t ime and chance happening unto
all . Look a little deeper, and you wil l se e that one strainruns through it al l : nations and men
, whoever is shipwrecked is shipwrecked on conduct. It is the God Of
Israel steadily and irresistibly asserting himself, tlzc
E ternal t/zat lave/ll righteousness .
!
What i s th i s but another express i on ofthe Greek
poet ’ s v i ew : Whi le Zeus l iveth through the ages,
th i s l ives al so,that the doer bear h i s deed ”
?
What but an echo,from a d ifferent summ it
,of
that stra in wh i ch runs through al l human i ty, be
cause i n human i ty there i s one i nsp i r i ng l ife ?
3. To-day, aga in , we have the probl em d i s
cussed Of the accumu lat ion and d i st r ibut ion of
wealth ; but i t i s not new. The part i cu lar form
under wh i ch i t comes i s adapted to our age ; but
the i nstab i l i ty of that weal th gai ned by unjus t
means , by means that d i s turbed the harmony of
the soc ial order, was loud ly proc la imed by our
poet,mak i ng the burden Of many a chorus . He
speaks of the v i s ion of t ruth wh i ch i s man ifest to
the ch i ldren
“ Ofthose who , ove rbo ld,Breathed rag ing war beyondth e bounds of right ;
24 {ESCH YZUS ON
The ir house s overfilledwith pre cious storeAbove th e go lden mean.
For sti l l th e re is no bulwark strong in wealthAgainst de struct ion
’s doom ,
TO one who , in th e pride Ofwantonne ss,Spurns th e g reat altar ofth e Right andJust .”
A h,wel l ! there are other means to -day of ac ;
cumu lat i ng unj ust weal th,Of tower i ng above the
go lden mean,bes ides layi ng unde r contr ibut i on
fr i endly c i t i es , and sack i ng the r i ch st rongholds
of ne ighbor i ng a l l i es . There are unj ust monopo
l ieS,gr i nd ing Oppress ions of cap i tal and mach i n
e ry, vast , l egal i zed means of suck ing up the l ife
b lood of the commun i ty, by wh ich m i l l ions upon
m i l l ions are p i led up for the few,wh i l e the great
mass i s sunk i n poverty, v i ce, and ignorance. Oh
for some fEschylus to thunder out i n h i s maj est i c
chorus,
“Andth e dark-robedErinnys , in due time ,By adve rse chance of life ,Place h im who prospe rs th rough unrighte ousne ssIn g loom obscure ; andonce among th e unse en,The re is no h e lp for h im .
Fam e in e xce ss is but ape rilous thing ;For on men
’s quive ring eye sIs hurledby Zeus th e bl inding thunde rbo lt.I prai se th e goodsucce ssThat rouse s not God’s wrath .
”
The ch i ldren find out . Yes ! IS not that t rue of
thousands of our r i chest men , whose ch i ldren pass
m i serab l e l ive s of selfi sh ego ism,cyn i ca l i n the i r
excess of i d l e luxury, k i l l i ng t ime as they can i n
amateur noth ings, weary of themselves,weary of
SOME M ODERN SOCIAL PROBLEMS . 25
the wor ld,even if not steeped i n drunkenne ss and
vice ? A las for the ch i ldren of those whose houses
are “oz/e ifil ledwith prec ious store above the go lden
mean,
” that golden mean wh ich,th rough a w ise
and just d i st r ibut ion by means of a t rue sc i ence ofeconomy and an o rgan izat i on of i ndustry and al l
soc ial appl iances,might be the her i tage of al l .
A nother age,look ing through a purer med ium
,
shal l brand many of our present arrangements and
inst i tut ions as unrighteous as were those A then i an
mi l i tary exped i t ions,—So honorabl e then,so en
r ich ing to those who s ignal ized themse lves by cun
n ing st ratagem,
-by valo rous deed, by a marvel lous
success .
4. Aga in , the soc ial sc i ence of to -day bus i es
i tse lf with the quest ion of heal th. The poet
propounds the same prob lem“ Ofhigh , o
’erflowing health
Th e re is no lim i t fixedthat satisfie sFor eve rmore di sease , as neighbor closeWhom butawall divide s ,Upon i t pre sse s andman
’s prospe rous stateMove s on its course andstrike sUpon an unse en rock.
”
Th is unseen rock sc i ence wou ld get the sound
ings of,and mark it s p lace upon the chart
,even if
i t cannot,by means of gunpowder or yet more
explos ive substance,blow it to atoms . Chance,
fate,necess i ty, no more ru les there than i t does
i n the l ives and fortunes of men . But th i s the
poet d id not see. How many see i t now ? How
many recogn ize health as the normal state, the
26 E SCH YLUS ON
poss ib l e possess ion ofal l,and d i sease as the self
impo sed burden of ignorance and Sin,—that in
h e rited curse wh i ch shal l last on ly so long as the
house cl eaves to Ate ; only so long as man, by h i s
own wi lfu l fo l ly and vo luntary t ransgress ion , invi tes the company of the aveng i ng Fates ?
5. Aga in,among the problems of today there
i s none more str ik i ng than that of the un ion of
thos e who th ink themselves suffer i ng great soc ial
wrongs,and who i n the i r un ion find so lace and
strength . The great law of human fe l lowsh ip, of
l ike exper i ence and a common dest i ny, b i nds them
together. The fact i t self i s a s ign ificant S ign ;and the occas ional excesses ofa new-found strength
Shou ld not b l i nd us to the real importance and the
essent ia l necess i ty, i n an advanc i ng c iv i l i zat ion , of
th i s brotherhood of the suffer i ng,th i s vo i c ing of
the i r compla i nt s . Where i s the i r hOpe , if not i n
themse lves ? I t i s,too
,for the advantage of al l
that every wrong shal l be r ighted, every ev i l re
moved ; that every facu lty of every human be ing for
enj oyment and improvement shal l be unfo lded to
i t s fu l l capac i ty and it s utmost extent . Grudge
not,then
,th i s fe l lowsh ip of suffer i ng, asp i rat ion,
and effort . The anc ient poet, by the i ntu i t i on Of
gen ius,br i ngs together from remote parts of the
eart h the two co lossal sufferers by the tyranny of
Zeus,the frenzy-sm it ten Io and the tortured
Prometheus. By an unconsc ious and invi s ibl e at
t ract ion,IO i s brought to the rock to wh ich the
indom itabl e sufferer i s na i l ed, and excla ims,
28 (ESCH YLUS ON
His arms can ill but hold. I pity, too ,
Th e giant dwe lle r ofKilikian cave sA h e lple ss , powe rle ss carcase , near th e straitOfth e g reat sea, fast pre ssedbeneath th e rootsOfancient IEtna.
”
Yes : towards al l these whom the uns l eep i ng
thunder-bo l t of Zeus has struck down he i s drawn
w ith t enderest p i ty. So,on the bare heath
,with
the thunder burst i ng around h im,and am idst the
flash ing s of l ightn i ng and the t empest,the crazed
Lear,before he accepts the Shelter of the m i ser
able hovel,expresses the new fee l i ng of sympathy
w ith the wret ched
Poor, nakedwre tche s, whe re soe’e r you are
That h ide th e pe l t ing Of th i s pi t i le ss storm,
How Shal l your house le ss h eads andunfedSides,Your loopedandwindowedraggedne ss , de fendyouFrom seasons such as th e se ? Oh , I have ta
’
en
Too l i ttle care of th is . Take phys ic, PompExpose thyse lf to fe e l what wre tche s fe e l,That thou may’st shake th e superflux to them,
AndShow th e h eavens more ju st .”
The heavens more j ust ? Are the bount ifu l heavens
to b lame ? I s not the earth fert i l e, and the mean s
of good suffi c i ent for al l ? When the supe rflux shal l
be w i s ely d istr ibuted, wi l l that dumb sorrow wh i ch
pai ns so many hearts be turned i nto gladness , and
those muttered curses that wel l up from so manyqu iver i ng soul s be changed i nto bened i ct ions .
6. The last problem brought under our V l eW i s
that of labor, by many, i ndeed, regarded as the
S OME MODERN SOCIAL PROBLEMS . 29
quest ion wh i ch t ranscends al l others,and wh i ch
concerns more immed iate ly and more i nt imatelythe wel l -be i ng of human i ty. What has [Eschylust o do w ith that ? I s t/zatembraced under h i s grand
,
symbol i c p i cture ? Why not ? H is theme i n the“ Prometheus ” i s the god l ike el ement i n man
,
i t s protests,i t s st ruggles , and i ts final tr i umph ;
and how cou ld i t be that th i s force, labor, the appl i cat i on of man ’
s st rength of arm,Of h i s power
to work,of the employment of muscu lar v igor and
al l h i s bod i ly energ i es ,—that th i s great necess i tyshou ld not enter i nto h i s v i ew ? Human ity, or
Prometheus w ith h i s unbend ing wi l l,h i s far-reach
i ng i nte l l ige nce,h i s reck less love
,i s freed from
the b i rd of Jove that da i ly feeds upon h i s l iver byHercu les
,whose hero i c t i t l e was the labor of h i s
own strong arm ,h i s broad chest
,h i s brawny mus
cl es,h i s th i ck neck . He s lays the ravagi ng l ion,
the venomous hydra, the savage w i ld boar, the
death -deal i ng b i rds,the carn ivorous monsters ;
c leanses the Augean stab les,and fina l ly br i ngs
up from hel l i t self i t s fearfu l guard ian . Inte l l i
gence by i t se lf alone i s fet tered , i s powerl ess ; but
i ntel l ect and labor comb i ned are the essent ia l s ofhuman progress . And how was th i s labor -hero
,
th i s god Ofwork,equ ipped for h i s task ? He re
c e ived h is helme t from M inerva, h i s swo rd from
Mercury, h i s horse from Neptune, h i s arrows fromApo l lo
,and h i s go lden cu i rass from Vulcan . That
i s , labor—endowed , equ ipped , furn i shed w ith thegifts
,the graces
,the app l iances of art
,ofcommerce,
30 SOME MODERN SOCIAL PROBLEAIS .
of i nte l l igent Sk i l l —frees human i ty from i ts evi l sand i t s foes i n the a i r above and on the earth
,and
even from the hel l under the earth .
I n the concl ud ing part of the dramat i c t r i logy of
Prometheu s,the hero i c T i tan
,after thousands of
years, becomes reconc i led w ith a reconc i l ed Zeus,and s i t s down with the O lympian gods at a grand
marr iage feast i n the abode ofthe Immortal s,
- the
h ighest symbol that the i nsp i red imagi nat ion can
set forth of the glory and b lessedness of a race
redeemed by knowledge, redeemed by labor ; everyfacu lty, every asp i rat ion, every work, made blessed
and d ivi ne.
A SATIRIST IN THE SECOND CENTURY.
LU C IAN l ived i n the age of the Anton i nes , in the
second century of our era, an age wh i ch G ibbon
has pronounced to be the one that he shou ld se l ect
as the most prosperous and happy Of al l th e h i s
torical ages of the world . On the surface i t looks
so. I t was a t ime of external order, of general,
peacefu l i ntercourse, and of great c i t i es i n the
Eas t and the West , from Egypt to Gau l , with
school s of ph i losophy and art , where l etters were
cu lt ivated,and refinement was the fash ion .
Among the l i t erary men of that age , none stands
more prom inent than Luc ian of Samosata,the cap i
ta l of the no rthern prov i nce of Syr ia, on the west
ern s ide of the r iver Euphrates, whose i nhab itants
Spoke the Grec ian language. Luc ian,an ac com
pl ish ed s cho lar, wrot e almost pure class i c Greek .
Educated to the law,i n h i s mature years he
accumu lated a large fortune by h i s lectures on
ph i losophy, l i t e rature, and re l ig ion . A genu i ne
product of h i s t imes , he reveal s them to us better
than cou ld any h i stor i ca l essay. He Shows that
i t was a per iod of genera l d i sso lut ion of the o ld
re l ig ions,and that th e so i l was ready to rece ive a
new pos i t ive faith ,— that Chr i st ian i ty requ i red no
32 A SA TIRIS T IN YYIE SE COND CEN TURY.
m irac l es to make i t flour i sh,but found everywhere
congen ial helps .
Lucian was the great sat i r i st of h i s t ime ; he
laughed at re l ig ion,at ph i losophy Of every Sect
and k i nd . He bel i eved ne i ther i n God nor ph i
losoph e rs , and covers every sacred r i t e, everyph i losoph i cal schoo l
,every t rad i t ion of the gods
,
and'
every theoret i cal specu lat i on i n regard to a
d iv i ne exi stence and future l ife w ith unrest ra i ned
r id i cu l e. He has been cal led the Volta i re of h i s
age ; but he i s rather the Robert Ingerso l ra i sed
to the nth power.
Let us t ransport ourselves i nto the Roman prov ~
i n ce of Syr i a, about the year I 35 of our Chr i st ian
era . An i nhab i tant ofthe c i ty of Samosatai s ho ld
i ng a fam i ly counc i l to see what shal l be done w i th
a smart,l ively, and prom is i ng boy, about fifteen
years of age, who has rece ived the usual e lementaryeducat i on
,and mu s t now be turned to someth ing
wh i ch shal l g ive h im a l iv i ng. I t was a t rouble
some quest ion then,as i t i s now
,what to do w ith
an i rrepress ib l e young fe l low ; but i t was final lyconcluded to put th i s one to some mechan i ca l
t rade . But what t rade ? Most of the common
occupat ions were fi l l ed by S laves , and th i s was a
freeman ’ s son . He had already shown some dex
te rity i n shap i ng figures out of wax, for wh i ch
h i s schoo lmaster had often boxed h i s ears ; and
so the father,turn i ng to the materna l uncl e of the
boy, a stone -cutter and scu lptor, sa id :“ I t wou ld
be affront i ng you to g ive the preference to any
A TIR IS T IN THE SE COND CE N TUR Y. 33
other art ; so take the boy, and do the bes t you can
with h im .
Th i s dec i s ion str ikes the youth favorab ly, for h eth i nk s i t w i l l be a very fine th ing to carv e l i tt l e
god s and goddesses for h im se lf and h i s p laymate s .H i s uncl e put s a ch i se l i nto h i s hand and sets h im
to wo rk on a s lab of marbl e,wh ich he soon suc
c e eds i n break i ng, and rece ives therefor a sound
wh ipp ing. Smart i ng w ith pa i n and bo i l i ng over
w ith rage,the boy goes for comfort to h i s mother,
and under her sooth i ng i nfluence he fal ls as leep.
He dreams that two forms,one of whom i s Stat
uary and the other Learn i ng, appear and quarre l
for the mastery of h i s person . Each presents her
case ; and after the fi rst has dep i cted the so l id ad
vantages Of a l ife of labo r,Learn i ng thus speaks
You already know my countenance, but much is sti llwanting to complete the acquaintance. Ifyou fol low thislow person
, you wi ll be nothing more than a me chanic, bepaid l ittle better than a day-laborer, low and narrow in
your views, an insignificant personage in the commonwealth
,a mere handicraftsman, one ofthe vu lgar herd,
bowing and cring ing to his superiors , adopting the opinion Ofevery speaker, and living the life of a timid hare.Follow me
,and I will make you acquainted with all the
admirable characters Of antiqu ity, and give you a com
ple te knowledge of all things human and divine. You,the poor lad now standing before me , th e son of a common man who would bring you up to such an ignobletrade
,wil l Shortly be envied by eve ry one ; for you will
be commended, honored, and este emed as a man of ex3
34 A SATIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TUR Y.
c e llent talents . You wil l be dre ssed as you se e me here,
and eve ry one who see s you wi l l jog his neighbor, pointto you and say :
‘The re he goe s ! that is the famous
Luc ian ! ’ Think of that great Demosthene s, whose sonhe was
,andwhat a man I made of h im Was not Eschi
nes the son of a woman who played on a kettle-drum ?Socrates was brought up to statuary, but he soon made abetter choice ; and you know how much h e has beenmagnified by al l men. Andwould you re ject all this to
go sneaking about in a coarse canvas frock, always handl ing iron tools, and poring over your work with bothbody and mind p inned fast to the ground ?
Such was the substance of a publ i c l ecture wh i ch
Luc ian de l ivered to h i s townsmen many years after
ward,when he returned to h i s nat ive p lace with
a Splend id ret i nue, after he had amassed a for
tune i n the pract i ce of the law,and had v i s ited
many c i t i es of the vast Roman emp i re as a l ec
ture r
'
on Rhetor i c and Bel les Lett res . Most of
h is wr i t i ngs a re i n the form of d ialogue,
-aform
wh i ch Plato sanct ioned,and wh ich became very
common .
The mytho logi cal d ialogues exh ib i t the absurdit i es of the popu lar bel i efs i n a l ive ly and a gro
te sque way, attack i ng no one’ s fa ith
,and yet cov
er i ng the ent i re O lympus w ith r id i cu le. The
stor i es of the gods were rece ived as l i teral fact s
by a l l except a few al l egor i z i ng ph ilOSOph e rs : as
l i teral fact s they are deal t w i th on Lucian ’ s part,
and a sorry figure enough do the gods cut . Theyenact over agai n i n the author ’ s page the i r most
36 A SA TIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TURY.
andnever seen on the top ofIdathe altar of the godwhosends rain
,l ightning , and thunder ?
Ganymede . It was you then who latay pelted us sofiercely w i th hai l-stones, andwho made such a clatteringup among the clouds
,and to whom my father sacrificed
a ram ! But what have you flown Offw ith me for? Mysheep wil l run wi ld, and be torn to pieces by the wolves .
jnpifer. Why should you bother yourselfabout the s illysheep ? You are now immortal, and wi l l stay with us .Ganymede . What ! shal l I not be take n back to Ida
to-day?
jupiter. Of course not . What did I turn myself froma god into an eag le for?Ganymede . But my father will be angry, and I shall be
beaten for having left my sheep .
jnpifer. He shal l not se e you again.
Ganymede . I will go home Ifyou’ll carry me back,
I promise that he shal l sacrifice to you another ram,—the
big three-year old that always goes at the head ofthe flock.
jupiter. How s imple -minded and ingenuous the boyis ! My dear Ganymede, you must think no more of
such things . You shall be my cup-bearer, and insteadOfmilk and cheese, eat ambrosia and drink nectar. Youshal l be an immortal
,and a star with your name shall
sparkle in the sky. In short, you shall be very happy.
Ganymede . But who will play with me ? I used tohave many playfe llows on Mt . Ida.
jupiter. Oh, I will g ive you heaps of playthings, andCupid shall be your play-fellow. So cheer up, and don
’tfret about things below.
Thus i t goes on.
A SATIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TUR Y. 37
A s having many po i nt s of resemb lance to what
has taken place i n our own day, the account wh ich
Luc ian,in the second century, gives us of one
A l exander of Abonote ich os i s fu l l of i nt erest .A l exander was a handsome youth, w ith command
i ng figure,br ight eyes , and a mus i cal g ift, and
at the same t ime not ed for h i s many l i cent ious
adventures,so that when a t rave l l i ng phys i c i an
and conjurer came around who wanted an ass i st
ant,th i s same prepossess i ng youth seemed made
Spec ial ly to h i s hand . H is master soon d ied,and
A l exander set up i n bus i ness for h imself, choos
i ng for the beg i nn i ng of h i s career the c i ty of
Chalcedon,where he
‘
bur i ed i n an Old dilapi
dated templ e OfApo l lo two bras s plates, on wh ich
was i ns cr ibed : “fEscu lap ius wi l l short ly come with
h i s father Apo l l o i nto Pontus,and fix h i s abode
at Abonote ich os .
”Of cours e the tab let s were
found i n due t ime ; and the preposses s i ng A l ex
ander,with flowing r inglets , wh it e vest str iped
w ith purple,a long wh it e mant l e
,and ho ld ing a
sc im i tar i n h i s r ight hand, d la Perseus , for he
c la imed to be d i rect ly descended by h i s mother’ s
S i de from that hero, appeared i n the market
place. A l l the popu lat ion turned out for the
Show . After foam ing at the mouth,and utt er i ng
a rhapsody i n wh ich the names of Apo l lo and
fEscu lap ius were frequent ly heard, A l exander suddenly started for the t empl e ; went to the founta i n,and there took up an egg
, out of wh i ch crept a
l i t t l e s nake, that the peopl e al l ha i l ed as the god
38 A SATIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TURY.
fEscu lap ius . The ent i re count ry was st i rred up ;and A l exander, with a fine
,large
,tame snake in
h i s bosom,made an almost t r i umphal progress
through the land . What a prod ig ious m iracl e
was here ! What a crowd ing and squeez i ng i nto
the l i tt l e room where A l exander i n h i s grand att i re fond led the newly man ifested god ! Medal s
were struck off, brass and s i lver figures of the
new d ivi n i ty were d i str ibut ed, to whom the name
G lycon was given by express command .
I t was given out now that the god wou ld del iver
oracl es and make proph ec i es,and a day was set
when peop l e Shou ld br i ng the i r scro l l s carefu l lys ealed i nto the t empl e
,when the prophet wou ld
hand them back w i th an answer i n metr i cal form to
each . Th e peop l e al l sa id,
“ How cou ld th i s man
know what was i ns ide the scro l l s un l es s he were a
god !” The throngs i ncreased,the gai ns were im
mense . After a wh i l e,some Oppos i t ion beg i nn ing
to show i tse lf,the prophet denounced the unbe
l ieve rs as athe i st s, Chri st ians, and Ep i cureans .
Greater wonders are contr ived ; the head of the se r
pent speaks . The renown Of the oracl e extends to
Rome,and the most eager to consu lt i t were peo
p l e of rank and wealth . Rutil l ianus,a man i n h igh
command,consu l ts the prophet i n regard to the
educat ion of h i s son,and to the quest ion who
shal l be h i s tutors rece ives th i s answer : “ Pytha
goras and the great est hardof warr iors The boyd ied sudden ly a few days aft er th i s , and the father
saw here i n the fu lfi lment of the orac l e, —wh ich
A SA TIRI ST IN THE SE COND CEN TUR Y. 39
had evident ly recommended , not any l iv i ng tutor,but Homer and Pythagoras , whose i nst ruct ions he
cou ld now rece ive . The o ldRutil l ianus now con
su lts the orac le i n regard to marry i ng aga i n , andi s to ld to take “
A l exander ’ s and Sel ene ’ s daugh
t er for h i s w ife . Th is th e prophet i nt erpret s as
mean i ng h is own daughter,whose descent he t raced
from Selene,or th e moon ; and Rutil l ianus cel e
brates the espousal s i n spl end id styl e .
The prophet i s now resorted to from every part
of the Roman emp i re. He inst i tutes myst er i es
w i th torch bearers,process ions
,pr i ests
,et c . ; and
by publ i c proclamat ion al l athe i s t s , Chris t ians ,and Ep icureans are warned to keep away. The
athe i st s of course wou ld desp i se them , the Chr i s
t ians abhor them as the work of ev i l sp i r i t s,and
the Ep icureans laugh at them as morb id fanc i es
and foo l ish t r i cker i es . I n thes e myster i es were
represented the b irth of Apo l lo and fEscu lapius,the loves ofLuna and the new Endymion , and th e
b i rth ofGlycon. In the myst i cal torch -dance theprophet figured
,and as h i s dress flew Open there
was v i s ib l e a go lden th igh . Beaut ifu l young g ir l s
of nob l e b i rth came to chant hymns to the newlyman ifest ed god . Those women whom the prophet
honored w ith a k i ss were thought to be Spec ia l lyb lest . Luc ian says that he h imself consu lt ed the
orac l e, propos i ng, i n a b i l l et sealed up i n such a
way that i t cou ld not be Opened w ithout detect ion,the fo l lowing we ighty quest ion : I s A l exander
bald ? The answer rece ived the next n ight was
40 A SA TIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TUR Y.
th i s : Atl is was a d ifferent k ing from Sbardala
chus . A nother t ime the scept i c asked what country Homer belonged to ; and havi ng i nst ruct ed
h i s s ervant to h i nt that h i s mast er w i sh ed for a
remedy for a pai n i n h i s S i de,the answer came
i n due form :“A no i nt thee w ith c itmis and La
tona ’ s dew.
”A nother t ime he aske d the same
quest ion,h i nt i ng to h i s s ervant that i t was about
an i ntended journey to Italy ; and th e respons e
was : “ Beware of the s ea,t rave l on ly by land.
”
Lucian came near payi ng very dear for h i s un
mask i ng of the impostor,as th i s model Sp i r i tua l i s t
br ibed the crew of a vessel i n wh i ch Luc ian took
passage to throw h im into the sea ; and th i s in
t ended d ispos it i on Of the unbel i ever was thwart
ed on ly by the res i stan ce of the capta i n . But
A l exander had i nfluence enough at court to pro
cure a decree Of the emperor that a new co i n
shou ld be st ruck,havi ng on one s ide the s erpent
offEsculapius , with the i nscr ipt ion,“Abonote ich i
ton Glukon ;” and on the other, Ionopo l e iton
Glukon,
” w ith the i ns cr ipt i on , Luc. verus . He
had prophes i ed that h e Shou ld l ive to be one
hundred and fifty years o ld, and be st ru ck by
l ightn ing ; but he d ied before he was seventy, of
a.
h orrible gangrene. Aft er h i s death there was a
l ively contest who Shou ld be h i s successor ; but
Rutil lianus dec ided that the deceased d id not ah
dicate by h i s death h i s prophet i c Office.
What a l ight i s here thrown upon the surg i ng
of that human heart Of the second centu ry ! Hu
A SATIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TURY. 4 I
man weakness and credu l i ty ! some one excla ims .But what a long ing for someth i ng beyond what
t ime and sense can g ive ! The sacred long ings,
the d ivi n e i nst i ncts, are impos ed upon and m is l ed ;but what a capac i ty i t argues i n man that h e can
be thus dece ived,thus mocked
,thus put Off with
the semblance of the t ru e food,and ever hope on
for that l ight t o come from above, and that word
to be Spoken,wh i ch sha l l caus e h im t o bend i n
reverent ial awe ! We see here a g l impse Of that
sp i r itua l capac ity, wh i ch, once s et free from po lyt he i st i c superst i t ion
,wou ld accept the substance
of Chr ist i an t ruth under modified forms,adapted
,
i ndeed,to i t s low mental and mora l stat e. But
human i ty i s not l eft who l ly without God i n th e
world ; i t subs ides ne i ther i nto athe i st i c mater i
alism,nor ep i curean carel essness and case .
I n another work, a jo l ly fe l low,Menippus , flyi ng
with the w ings of an eagl e and a vu lture,takes h i s
stat ion far above the earth,upon wh i ch he looks
down and moral ize sm Wear i ed with the cont ra
dictory exp lanat ions of the ph i losophers, the bo ld
Menippus determ ines to find out by actua l inspe c
t ion the cond it io n of other worlds ; but h i s atten
t ion i s ch i efly fixed upon th i s earth . From h i s
e l evat ion al l Greece appeared to be about four
fingers i n breadth,and th e terr i tor i es for wh ich
thousands of brave men were fight i ng no b igger
than an Eygptian bean . The c it i es were l ike ant
h i l ls, where there was noth i ng but bust l e, runn i ng
42 A SATIRIS T IN THE SE COIVD CEN TURY.
round, post i ng i n and out , hu rryi ng and scudd i ng,one with a bean and another w ith a bar l ey-corn i nh is mouth .
M enippus pays a v i s i t to Jup it er, with whom he
goes to the place where the god l i st ened to the
prayers Of mank i nd . There were apertures,l ike
well -mouths , p rovided w ith covers, and by theS i de of each a go lden cha i r Of stat e. J up it er s eated
h imself and l ift ed up th e cover,and M enippus
stooped down so that h e cou ld hear also . Var ious were the p rayers :
O Jup iter,letme be king
O Jup iter,make my onions and garlic thrive
O Jup ite r, he lp me ge t rid ofmy wifeG ive succe ss to my law-suitCrown me at O lymp ia!
One sa i lor prays for a north wi nd, another for
a south ; a farmer asks for ra i n, and a fu l ler for
sunsh i ne. Jup it er heard them a l l,and depos i t ed
some requests on the r ight hand, and others h e
puffed away. I n regard to pne on ly was he puz
zled,and that was where two persons presented
exact ly oppos i t e pet i t ion s , prom is i ng prec i se ly th e
same sacr ifi ces . Here he was forced to suspend
h i s j udgment,s imply remark ing,
“We shal l s ee.
M enippus i s enterta i ned w ith th e best of fare,
and final ly fal ls as l eep wonder i ng how Apol lo
cou ld l ive to be as o ld as h e was and have no
beard,and how i t cou ld be n ight i n heaven s i nce
the sun was there carous ing with them . Early
44 A SATIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TURY.
sh ip A rgo d id not talk, th e famous beech of DO
dona ’ s grove del iver oracl es , and the oxen of th e
sun low aft er they were roast ed ? The cock de
c lares that he had passed through many t ransm igrati ons
,and had once been Pythagoras . He recounts
the var ious exper i ences he had been through as a
r i ch man and as a k ing,with al l the i r annoyances ,
vexat ions,consp i rac i es
,hatreds
,and reverses
,
“favor i tes out of humo r
,m istresses fal s e
, con
spirac ie s hatched, and, worst of al l , not be i ng ab l e
to t rust one ’ s bosom fr i end and n earest relat ives . ”
The cobb l er i s suffic i ent ly cured of h i s hanker i ng
aft er wealth,to exc la im
,
“E nough ! enough ! If
al l th i s i s t rue, I’
d rather break my back i n stoop
i ng over my l ap stone, and cut l eather into str ips ,than dr i nk po i son out of a golden gob let . The
worst that can happen to me i s to cut my fingerw ith a par i ng-kn ife
,and I can cure that w i th a
cobweb .
But the poor cobb l er cannot get whol ly r id of
the des i re to be r i ch . E spec ia l ly i s h i s envy ex
c it ed by on e S imon , aman now ro l l i ng i n luxury,who was on ce as poor as h imself. The cock has
been endowed by Mercury with the power of open
i ng any door, and s ee i ng without be i ng seen ; and
so they v i s i t l ike “le d iab l e bo i t eux,
”of Le
Sage a great many dwel l i ngs, where the i nmates
th i nk themselves safe and sound from observat ion .
F i rst to the envious S imon ’ s,whom they find s i t
t i ng wide awake and por i ng over h i s accounts .
He SOl iloqu ize s z“ Thos e seventy tal ent s I have
A SATIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TUR Y. 45
h idden safe under my bed ; but I am afra id that
Sosylus saw me h ide tho s e s ixteen beh i nd the
manger. My plate i s not safe i n th i s cupboard .
I have a great many envi ers and enem ies ; espe
c ial ly, I have no fai th i n Mic il lus, that ne ighbor
of m ine . I w i l l go round the house and see if
al l ’
s safe . He now stumb les aga i nst a statue,
but on str ik i ng i t perce ives h i s m i stake ; he count s
h i s go ld aga i n,and i s start l ed out of h i s wi t s by
some fanc i ed no i s e . The cobb l er says that on
these cond i t i ons he wou ld be w i l l i ng to have a l l
h i s enem ies r i ch . Other houses are vi s i t ed, and
the cobb l er comes to the conc lus ion that he wou ld
rather starve than be l ike these persons whom h e
had so great ly envi ed .
A nother work by Luc ian i s ent i t l ed The True
H i sto ry,” i nt ended as a match for a l l the wonder
fu l stor i es of t ravel l ers and mythologi st s, wh ich
were undoubtedly so r ife i n that unh i stor i cal and
credu lous t ime. He proposes to cure those who
are rab id by giv i ng them a ha i r of the very dogthat h it them ,
outdo i ng the adventures of the
wander i ng U lysses .
The narrator sett i ng out i n a vesse l fromCad iz
,with fifty compan ions, after hav i ng been
dr iven before the w i nd for e ighty days , came to
p i l lars i nscr ibed : “ Thus far came Bacchus and
Hercu les . ” Then,go ing farther on by land, they
came to a large navigab le r iver,wh i ch ran w ine
i nstead of water,—a str ik i ng confi rmat ion of the
46 A SATIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TURx.
fact that Bacchus had vi s i t ed that reg ion . Theyal so saw women whose fingers and ha i r t erm inated
i n v i nes and bunches of grapes . They returned
to the Sh ip, wh i ch wa s taken up by a wh i rlw ind
and carr i ed a long above the c louds,unt i l they
came to a large,sh i n i ng
,c i rcu lar i s land
,to wh i ch
they moored the vesse l . Here they were se i zed
by some men r id i ng on huge vu ltures,and carr i ed
befo re the k ing, who was no other than Endym ion . Th i s lunar k i ng was at war w ith Phaeton ,the so lar k ing
,and the st rangers accompany the i r
host th e n ext day to the batt l e . Such troops
an unbr id l ed imaginat ion n ever co l lected before !
Fal staff h imself wou ld have been outfaced by
such a regiment !— e ighty thousand on huge vu l
t ures,and twenty thousand on b i rds
,who were
th i ckly grown over with cabbages i nstead offeath
ers,with wi ngs of l et tuce- l eaves ; archers mount ed
on fleas three t imes as large as e l ephants ; and
w ind-course rs,who wore long gowns
,wh ich they
t ucked up and used as sa i l s . The horse-cran es
and other t err ib l e t roops wh i ch were to come he
cannot des cr ibe,for he d id not s ee them
,— as
they never came. Some sp iders i n the moon,the
smal l es t of wh i ch was larger than the b iggest of
the Cyc lade s , were ordered to fi l l up the who l e
t ract between the moon and the morn i ng star
w ith a web,wh i ch made a so l id foot i ng for the
s i x hundred m i l l ions of the foot -so ld i ery. Phaeton
had an equal ly form idab l e force of gnat -r iders,
s l i ngers from the m i lky way, c loud - centaurs,et c.
A SA TIRIST IN THE SE COND CEN TUR Y. 47
Phaeton ’ s defeat was dec i s ive ; the clouds were
even t i nged with b lood , and some drops fel l to
the earth,wh i ch may account , Luc ian th i nk s , for
the shower of blood wh ich Homer says Jup it er
ra i n ed down at Sarpedon’
s death . Two t roph i es
of v i ctory were erected , one on the cobweb,and
the other on the c louds . But they were too soon
i n the i r rejo i c i ng. Whi l e they were thus d i s
persed and unprepared, the cloud-centaurs came
up,headed by Sagit tar ius from the zod iac . I t
was a t err ifi c s ight,—these half-men , half-hors e
creatures ; the human part as large as the upper
halfof the Colossus at Rhodes , and the horse -half
as large as a sh ip,and the i r number so prod ig ious
that the narrator decl i nes to stat e i t lest h e sh ou ld
notbe be lieved The narrator and h i s compan ion s
are taken pr i soners and carr i ed to the sun . En
dym ion was bes i eged in h i s cap i tal , and a great
wal l bu i l t up to depr ive h im of the l ight . He i s
brought to t erms,and peace i s happ i ly con cluded.
The Se len ites do not d i e, but van i sh l ike smoke
i nto the a i r. They snuff up the effluvia of what
they roast , i nstead of eat ing the meat i t se lf; and
for dr i nk they squeeze mo i sture out of the a i r.
They esteem a bald head a beauty, wh i le on the
comets curly hai r i s the fash ion . Thei r eyes theycan take out at pl easure and put them i n the i r
pocket s . I n the k ing ’ s palace i s a wonderfu l
look i ng-glass,and any one who looks i nto i t can
see al l that i s happen ing on the earth “If any
one d i sbe l i eves th i s,adds the author
,if he ever
48 A SA TIE /S T I N THE SE CONE CEN TUR Y.
goes th ither he may convin ce h imself with h i s
own eyes that the who l e i s t ru e.”
The t ravel l ers have many other adventures i n the
ce l est ia l reg ions,but are i nfin it ely rej o i ced at last
to find themse lves sa i l ing aga i n on the i r own waterye l ement . But a great whal e
,three hundred m i les
long,came towards them and swal lowed sh i p
and al l at one gu lp . They ent ered a cav ity of
vast extent , where were bones , cargoes of sh ips,
sa i l s,anchors
,and a smal l i s l and w ith t rees and
h il lS,— some float i ng i s land wh i ch the monster
had swal lowed. I n the t rees were var ious b i rds,
and the dej ect ed crew made themselves as com
fortab l e as they cou ld . They find i n the i nt er ior a
t empl e ded i cat ed to Neptune,and a man and a boy
who had been enclos ed,al so, i n that l iv i ng, mov
i ng tomb. The man te l l s h i s sto ry : he had been
there twenty-s even years , and cou ld be very com ~
fortabl e were i t not for the horr id monst ers of al l
so rt s that i nhab i t ed the i nt er i or of the i r abode,
and were d iv ided i nto d iffere nt races wh i ch were at
war w ith one another . The O ld man , l iv i ng among
the Psettopyde s , or l obst er-footed race, remarkab l e
for the i r sw ift n ess, pa id them an annual t r i but e
of five hundred oyst ers . A S the i r on ly weapons
were fish -bones,i t was det erm i ned to fight them
at once. Half the crew were p l aced i n ambush ,and fel l upon th e rear of the advan c i ng host , who
were defeated w ith great s laughter,wh i l e on ly one
of the crew was k i l l ed. Fresh enem ies came up ,but were sent pack i ng
,and dr iven out of the
whale ’ s j aws i nto th e sea.
A SA TIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TUR Y. 49
After stayi ng a year and e ight months i n the
whal e ’ s bel ly, the un lucky t rave l lers began to con
trive some way of ex it . After d iggi ng t i l l theywere t i red
,they conc luded to set fi re to the fore s t s ,
beg inn ing at the ext rem i ty near h i s ta i l . After
e l even days the fire began to t el l on the monster,
and h i s strength decl i ned,so that they were abl e to
prop h i s mouth Open with an immense beam,hau l
out the i r vessel , and put to s ea agai n . They now
sai led through seas ofm i lk,got frozen up
,saw men
walk ing on the sea, who were l ike themselves in
every respect except that they had cork feet . Then
our trave l lers came to th e Is lands of the B less ed ;fragrant breezes of the l i ly, v io l et, and vi n e were
waft ed toward them,enchant i ng zephyrs wh i spered
around,and harmon ious stra i n s resounded from th e
groves ; they heard also S i ngi ng, and the mus i c of
i nst ruments . Upon go i ng ashore,they found that
Rhadamanthus the Cretan was the sovere ign . Th e
c i ty was Ofgold , surrounded by wal l s of emeralds ;the pavement was Of ivory, the houses of beryl , and
the altars of amethyst . Round the c i ty flowed a
st ream of fragrant O i l-oi-roses ; the baths were of
crystal , and fi l l ed w ith warm dew. The i nhab i tant s
had no bod i es of flesh and bone,but were sou l s
with a semblance of body wrapped about them ,
upr ight shadows,as i t were
,wh i ch
,i nst ead of
bei ng black,had th e natural co lor of bod i es , and
looked so natura l that one had to touch them to
be convi nced that they were not corpo real forms .
They never grew o ld,and enjoyed a perpetual
50 A SA TIRIS T IN THE SE COZVD CE N TURY.
Spr i ng. Thei r dr i nk i ng-glasses b loomed on t rees
of t ransparent glass,and flocks of n ight i ngal es
brought Chaplet s and dropped them on the i r heads .At the tabl e songs and poems were chanted
,and
before they sat down they drank at the founta i n s
of m i rth and laughter. The Ep i curean s were
h ere held i n h ighest es t eem ; the Sto ics were not
present , be ing st i l l engaged i n cl imb i ng the i r h i l l
of vi rtue ; the A cadem i cs stood hes i tat i ng, and
doubt i ng whether to enter or not . The narrator
found there the Old heroes ; and when he left the
i s land, Ulyss es drew h im as ide and gave h im a
lett er t o Calypso , wh i ch Penelope was to know
noth i ng about . The travel l ers now passed some
i s lands wh i ch were as Offen s ive as the others were
del ightful,and at last came to the land of dreams
,
where they tarr i ed th i rty days . Calypso enter
tained them mag n ificent ly on her i s land, and put
several quest i ons to them i n regard to Penelope,how Sh e l ooked, and whether Sh e was real ly such
a model of vi rt ue as U lys s es had boasted . After
leavi ng Calypso they sa i l ed pas t a wonderfu l hal
cyon’ s n est
,and st range prod ig i es happened : the
goos e on the i r prow began to cackl e,the steers
man ’ s bald pat e became covered w ith fine hai r,and the mast s began to sprout out with figs and
clusters of grapes . Other wonderfu l adventures
are relat ed i n the soberest way as facts , unt i l th e
nav igators retu rn to the i r nat ive land.
Here are Rabela i s,Munchausen, and Gul l iver
comb ined .
52 A SATIR IS T IN THE SE COND CEN TUR Y.
horns and h eardand goat ’ s feet . He al so has some
th i ng to say agai nst J up it er h imse lf, who turned
h imse lf i nto so many fOrms and fi l led the assemblywith such an i l l eg it imate crowd
,—declar i ng that
the gods often feared lest,i n the course ofh i s mas
que rading , he m ight somet ime or other be s e i zedas a bul l and s laught ered
,or fa l l i nto a go ldsm ith ’ s
hand and be mel ted up i nto a brace l et or ear-r i ng.
“ And you Egyptian dog’s face ! ” Momus continue s
,
how came you to think you may bark among th e gods ?Andwhat means that p ied hull ofMemphis, with his oraclesandprophets, andth e storks andape s andgoats and otherpreposterous deities that have bee n foisted into heaven ?Andhow you, Jup iter, can endure to have a pair of ram
’shorns clapped on your head is past my comprehension.
jupiter. I t is real ly infamous ! However, in most ofthese Objects there l ies at bo ttom a mystical meaning,which one who is not init iated should not presume toderide .
Mamas. But, after all, we have no need Ofmysteries inorder to know that gods are gods, and dog
’s heads dog’s
heads .
jupifer. Le t these matters alone, and proceed, if youhave any more object ions to offer.
”
Momus proceeds i n the same ve in, and final lyreads the fo l lowing decree , drawn up i n due form
“ At a general council of the gods, beneath the aus
pic es ofJupiter, under the pres idency of Neptune, on themotion of Apol lo, Momus the son of Nigh t has drawnup this decree
,to which Sleep has given his approval
A SATIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TUR Y. 53
Wh ereas, a great number of foreigners, Greeks as well as
Barbarians, have clandestinely got themselves enrolled inour register, and have so crowded heaven that our tableis overstocked with a tumultuous rabble
,and thence has
e nsued such a deficiency of nectar and ambrosia that weare obliged to pay twelve ounces of Si lver for a pint ofnectar ; Andwh ereas , these intruders have insolently pre
fi/Sumed to shove out the ancient and true deities from thefirst seats,—be it Resolved by this Council, that , on thenext winter solst ice
,a general council Shall be he ld, and
a committe e composed of seven of the gods shall be appointed
,three Ofwhom Shall be taken from the old coun
cil under Saturn, and four e lected from the twelve deitiesofO lympus, whereofJupiter is to be one . The said committe e shall first be required to take a solemn oath byStyx, and Mercury Shall Officially summon all who thinkthat they have a right to assist in the divine councils, andthey Shall bring their sworn w itnesses and records beforeth e said committee
,and Shall be either declared t rue
gods or sent back to their fami ly vaults ; and if any of
those rejected shall ever again dare to look into or setfoot in heaven
,they Shall be hurled down to Tartarus.
And fu rther be it ordained, that every dei ty Shall mindhis own business
,and neither Minerva meddle w ith heal
ing , nor Esculapius with fortune-tel l ing ; and let Apolloselect one profession
,and be either a fortune-teller
,a
fiddler,or a physician ; and furthermore, let the altars,
images, and temples of the rejected be demol ished .
Whoever disobeys this decree, or refuses to appear before the committee
,shal l be condemned for contumacy
withou t further process . Such is our decree .
jupiter. It could not be better . So many as are in
54 A SATIRIS T IN THE SE CONE CEN TURY.
favor of it wil l hold up their hands . Or,rather
, let itbe ratified without any show of hands ; for there are toomany that wi l l not vote the right way, for very good rea
sons Of their own . Now, Gods, you may go . ButwhenMercury summons you ,
let eve ry one bring his patent of
godship, the name of his father andmother, and how hecame to be a god, and ofwhat stock he is . If any onecannot produce these legal documents, no matter howmagnificent a temple he may have on earth, the committe e will pay no regard to it .
!
H ow l ike a modern document th i s paper sounds ,though wr it t en i n the second century ; and what a
sat i re upon the po lythe i sm of the anc i ent world,
crumbl i ng to p i eces,wh i le out of i t s d ! br i s was
spr i ng ing up a purer and more un iversa l fa i th !
A nother popu lar superst i t i on that Lucian um
masked with a l l h i s powers of b i t ing dro l l ery was
th e be l i ef i n ghosts,sp i r i t s
,and demon i c posses
s ions . From the many passages that re lat e to
t h i s re curr i ng theme,and that g ive us the very
body and pressure of th i s period of m irac l es and
sp i r i tual wonders, one transcr ipt ion wi l l suflic e
While we were thus conversing, in came Arignotus the
Pythogorean, of a g rave and venerable aspect, renowne d
for his wisdom,and by many styled the holyArignotus.
I felt cheered to see him,for I thought he would stop
the mouths ofthese miracle-mongers. He began by asking,
‘Have you not been phi losophizing ?’Said Dino
machus,I have been trying to convince this unbel ieving
man that there are such things as ghosts and Spectres,
A SATIRIST IN THE SE COND CEN TUR Y. 55
and that the souls of the dead roam about the earth andbe come visible when they please .
’ ‘Pe rhaps,
’ repliedArignotus,
‘it is his opinion that the souls only of thosewho have died a violent death wander to and fro . If thisis his bel ief, he may not be g reatly in the wrong.
’ No,
by Jove c ried Dinomachus, he denies everything ofthekind
,absolutely and entirely, and thinks that it is utterly
impossible .’ ‘How ! ’ said Arignotus, looking sternly atme ;
‘
you deny the real ity of what the whole humanrace bears witness to ? ’ ‘The accusation of unbel iefjustifies me
,
’
I repl ied ; ‘I do not bel ieve,because I am
the only one who does not see anything of the kind.
Had I seen, I should doubtle ss bel ieve as wel l as you .
’
Ifyou should ever go to Corinth,’ said Arignotus, ask for
th e house OfEubatide s andwhen you go in , tel l the porter you would l ike to se e the place from which Arignotusexpelled the evi l sp irit . ’ ‘Te ll us about i t
, Arignotus.
’
‘Well,
’ repl ied he, whoever entered the house was sureto be frightened by a horrid apparit ion . The house h e .
came uninhabited and almost fe l l to ruin . I resolved tostay there one night, in spite of al l entreaties to the contrary. A rough and shaggy demon appeared, turning h imself into a dog, the n a bull, and then a lion but I made
use ofmost fearful imprecations and incantations in th e
Egyp tian tongue, and the spectre vanished . I markedthe spot where it disappeared
,and orde ring
’
the groundto be dug up we found there a Skeleton . We buried itwith proper sacred rites, and no ghost has ever been se enthere Since .
’
But th i s was not j ust the ev idence that wou ldsat i sfy Luc ian , however sat i sfactory i t may have
been to Arignotus h imse lf.
56 A SA TIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TURY.
The ph i losophers of the t ime are as l i tt l e spared
by the sat i r i s t as are the devotees of superst i t ion .
He g ives the h i story Of one Peregr i nus,who fina l ly
burned h imself al ive. On the road home from the
spectacl e,Luc ian meet s s everal persons hurryi ng
a long,who are too late to witness i t . He gravely
t e l l s some Of the gap ing s impl etons who quest i on
h im about the event,that as soon as Peregr i nu s
j umped i nto th e flames the earth began to quake,
and a vu l ture flew up to heaven and uttered these
words : Soar i ng above th e earth,I as cend to
O lympus . Shudder i ng w i th awe,the poor peo
p le breathe a prayer to the n ew dem i -god, and ask
whether the vu lture flew toward th e east or to .
ward the west . Afterward,he hears an O ld man
recount i ng i n th e pub l i c market -place how he
h imse lf had seen,but a few moments before
,th e
burnt ph i losopher walk i ng i n th e sacred grove in
wh i t e ra iment and w ith an O l ive wreath on h i s
brow ; and that he had beheld the vu lture w ith
h i s own eyes fly up from the fire .
“What m i
raculous th i ngs w i l l hereaft er be re lated of th i s
man ! ” says Luc i an .
Th i s Peregr i nus,changi ng from one ph ilosoph i
cal sect to another,at last j o i n s the s ect of Chri s
t i ans,and i s thrown i nto pr i son . I n h i s wretched
n ess,h i s fe l low-be l i evers come from far d i stan t
c i t i es to be h i s advocat es,and to ass i st and com
fort h im ,—for thes e peopl e
,i n a l l such cases, are
i nconce ivably al ert and act ive, spar i ng n e i ther
t roub l e nor expens e. Large presents were made
A SA TIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TURY. 57
to Peregr i nus ; for these poor peopl e,he says ,
“ have taken i t i n to the i r heads that they shal l be
immo rta l,both body and sou l , and l ive to a l l et er
nity ; and so they desp i s e death , and even run i nto
h i s c lut che s . Bes ides, the i r law -g iver taught them
that they were a l l brothers aft er they had once re
nounc ed the Grec ian de i t i es , bent the knee to the
great Soph i st,and l ived i n obed i ence to h i s laws .
A ll th i ngs e l s e they l ook upon as worth les s and
va i n ; and whenever any cunn ing impostor appl i es
to them,who understands the proper t r i ck
,he finds
i t an easy matter to l ead these s impl e peopl e bythe nos e and very soon to become r i ch at the i r
expen se .
What an i nvo luntary t est imony i s here born e
to the Character of those early Chr i st i ans,— the i rs impl i c i ty, the i r fa i th , the i r mutua l love, and the i r
hero i c cont empt of danger and of death ! Cou ld
not the en l ightened specu lator on human nature
and human affa i rs d i scern th i s s eem i ngly feebl e
germ ? H is work was to toppl e down the o ld t em
ples,to cover th e remnants of Old superst i t i o ns
w ith laughter and contempt , and bury out of s ight
the h ideous forms of l i cent ious and unreason i ng
idolat ry. H is sweep ing scythe cou ld not d i s
cr im i nat e,and i n i t s broad sweep cut down th i s
t l e,wh it e-weed
,and c lover a l ike ; but thereby free
space and a i r were g iven for the tender germs of
a purer fa ith to grow up,to be for long ages the
sustenance of human i ty.
58 A SATIRIS T IN THE SE COND CEN TURY.
Thus i n Luc ian'
s page there pass before us the
scenes of that long -van i shed age,— the sh ift i ng
scenes ofk ings and beggars, paras i t e s and S laves ;wealthy blockheads d i splay i ng affect edly the pur
pl e borders of the i r garments,spread i ng the i r
fingers that the i r r i ngs may be seen, and sa lut i ng
by proxy the i r acqua i ntances i n the street ; people
bes i egi ng the door of the i r patrons before i t i s
l ight ; men Of reverend years hanging about the
r i ch man ’ s tab l e ; ph i losophers w i th the i r long
beards and mant l es m i ngl i ng among the attend
ants and fawn ing sycophants of the great , preach
i ng contempt of r i ches and yet se l l i ng the i r wares
to th e h ighest b idders ; wealthy peopl e, s t i l l soenamoured of the i r preposterous van i t i es as to or
der i n the i r w i l l s that the i r best valuabl es shou ld
be burned on the i r funera l p i l es,and that the i r
s l aves shou ld keep perpetua l watch at the i r s ep
u lch re s and decorat e the i r tombs w ith flowers ;bel i evers i n sp i r i t commun i cat ions and rapp ings,i n ghost s
,i n augur i es, i n oracl es and d ivi nat ions ,
so that somet imes we seem to be read i ng some“ Banner of Light , of the present day.
You know how much I loved my dear, departed wife,says one. I have Shown it by burning with h e r all h e r
j ewels and the dress Sh e most delighted in. Seven days
afte r h er death I was lying on this couch, trying to console myself, and reading Plato on the immortal ity of
the soul. All at once I beheld my Demeneta sittingwhere that boy now is. (Here he pointed to his youngest son, who had begun to turn pale at his father
’s re cital,
60 A SATIRIS T IN THE SE CONE CEN TUR Y.
vau lt s . We ask for someth i ng more,—someth ing
that shal l feed our sou l s w ith fa i th and love and
reverence ; someth i ng that sha l l l ift us i nto a
more ho ly Sphere and he lp us to be l i eve,to be
st rong,and to hOpe , wh i l e the years fl i t by as a
pass ing dream , and the centur i es are fo lded up as
a wr i tt en scrol l .
A S CEPTIC IN THE E IGHTEENTH
CENTURY.
EDGAR ! U INET ca l ls the e ighteenth centu ry the
m igrat ion of the modern wor ld from one form of
soc i ety i nto another,” and speaks of Volta i re as
“ the sp i r i tual d i rector of th i s epoch,as seat ed
upon that sp i r i tua l throne wh i ch was he ld by the
Papacy i n the M idd l e Ag e .
Voltai re ’ s rea l name was Franco i s Mar i e A rouet .
Born i n 1694 , he was ear ly sent to a J esu i t co l l ege ,frequented by the sons of the hante noblesse . He
rece ived the n i ckname among h i s mates of the“ l i tt l e w i lful
,and was a prod igy Ofvivac ious qu i ck
w itt edness,m isch i ef
,and boyi sh audac ity.
“ Keep
out Of the way ! the precoc ious scept i c as we l l as
w i t sa id to one of h i s comrades who i nt ercepted
the heat of the firep lac e ,“ keep out of the way,
or I ’ l l s end you to Pluto’ s realms . ” Why not
say he l l ? That ’
s warmer ye t,” said h i s comrade .
“ How do you know that ? ” rejo i n ed Vo l ta i re ;there ’ s no better warrant for the one than for
the other. ” At another t ime , when one sa id to
h im that “ he was too wicked ever to go to heaven ,”
he rep l i ed,
“ Heaven ! heaven ! that’ s noth i ng but
a great dorm itory for the world .
”
62 A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GHTEE /VTH CEN TUR Y.
To sneer at re l ig ion among these ari stocrat i c
youths was the mark of a h igh sp i r i t . The me
mo i rs of that t ime revea l a fearfu l state of cor
ruption i n the ent i re soc ia l atmo sphere. The
shamefu l profligacy of the court was on ly equal led
by i t s superst i t ious formal ity, and by the aust ere
b igotry of devotees,who compounded w ith the
Ce le s t ia l Powers for the i r s i n s by the orthodoxyof the i r creed
,and by the fie rc e ne ss of the i r zeal
agai nst a l l forms of heresy.
‘ When Volta i re was
on ly twelve years Old , one of h i s reverend tutors
prophes i ed that he wou ld become the “ Corypheus
of De i sm i n France .
” But,as Lord Brougham
we l l says ,“Whoever doubted th e real presence
,
or quest ioned the power of abso lut i on,was at on ce
set down for an i nfidel i n thos e t imes ;” and a
t r ifle of wi t m ingled w ith the argument wou ld
read i ly brand one as a b lasphemer. I n Vo lta i re ’ s
case,ne i ther the w it nor the w i l l was want i ng.
I n one respect,the youth of th e juven i l e scape
grace was not the father Of the man ; for i n h i s
manhood he was prudent i n money matt ers, and
accumu lated an immense fortune,so that he be
came th e cred itor of many a nob l eman , and was
noted for h i s Shrewdnes s and h i s sharp eye to the
ma i n chance. I n h i s youthfu l days he had occa
s ion to mak e a v i s i t to a money- l ender ; and he
g ives the fo l low ing narrat i on ofh i s e Xpe rienc e :
I found on th e usurer’s table two cruc ifixe s, and Iasked him whether they hadbeen le ft to pawn . H e saidno ; but that he never made any bargain without having
A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GH TE EN TH CEN TUR Y. 63
those cruc ifixe s near. I said that I thought one would
do,and my advice was to place that one be twe en two
thieves . H e said I was an impious fe l low, and h e wouldnot loan m e a cent ; but he did le t me have money attwenty per c ent intere st, on se curity worth five t ime sthe sum,
—deducting the interest in advance, and finallydecampin
'
g with my securit ies in his pocket .”
I t was,i ndeed
,a ho rr ib l e re l ig ious atmosphere
for a young man to breathe , not too wel l endowed
with reverence and Sp i r i tual i ns ight . Rel ig ion
was a part of the Stat e mach i nery, and on ly as i t
persecut ed heret i cs d id i t Show s igns of be ing
al ive . To be a Protestant was to be an out law ;to be a Pap i st was to possess the r ight of t ramp
l i ng upon every i nd iv idua l convi ct i on and a l l
venerabl e and inst i nct ive mora l i t i e s . NO per iod
of the wor ld presents a more gruesome and loath
some spectacl e Of re l igi ous immoral i ty and Of
immora l re l ig ion . The court was austere ly de
vout ; pol i t e soc i ety was ostentat ious ly vi c i ous ,and b igoted ly unb igoted i n i t s l i cent i ousness and
unbel i ef. The cou rt formed i tse lf upon Madame
de Mai nt enon , and“ good soc i ety
” upon N inon
de l’
EnClos . Madame endeavored to br ibe the
wonderfu l coquett e t o become a devote e ; but
Sh e repl i ed that she had no need e i ther of afortun e or a mask.
To N inon , Vo l ta i re was early i nt roduced by h i s
godfather, the Abb ! Chat eauneuf, as a des i rab l eacqua i ntan ce . She was then e ighty years o ld;
and when she d i ed she l eft to Vo l ta i re, by wi l l ,
64 A SCE PTI C [N THE E I GH TE EN TH CEN TUR Y.
two thousand fran cs for the purchase of books .One of h i s fi rst purchases from th i s fund was
Bayl e’ s Ph i losoph i cal D i ct ionary, th e great
m i ne from wh i ch the doubters Of the e ight eenth
century forged th e i r po i nt ed shaft s of cr i t i c i sm
and ra i l l ery.
Be ing suspect ed ofhaving wr i t t en a sat i re wh i ch
s eemed to cast some severe reflect ions upon the
memory of Lou i s XIV ., Volta i re was sent to the
Bas t i l e when twenty-two years Of age, and aga i n,a few years aft erward , for some personal quarre l
w ith a court i er who was ent i re ly i n the wrong.
I n th e Bast i l e he wrot e th e “H e nriade
,
” whose
hero was th e great advocat e of re l ig i ous to l era
t ion,and who was as good at a hon mot in i t s be
half as Volta i re h imself. When set free from the
Bast i l e by the regent , Ph i l ip of O rl eans,the poet
went to the Pala i s Roya l to pay h i s respect s to
h i s patron,and was kept wa i t i ng i n the ante
chamber longer than su i t ed h i s impat i ent sp ir i t .
Wh i l e wa it i ng,a t err ib l e thunder-storm broke over
the i r heads ; and the fum ing youth excla imed i n
th e hear i ng of those about h im ,
“ Th ings cou ld n ’
t
go on worse if they were managed up above there
by a regency. On present i ng h im,the Marqu i s
de Noce report ed the speech , say i ng, Monse ign
eur,th i s i s the young A rouet whom you have
j ust taken out of th e Bast i l e and whom you wi l l
do wel l to s end back agai n Immed iat e ly. The
regent,l augh i ng
,Offered Volta i re a pens ion . H is
response to th i s offer was,
“ I thank h i s Royal
A S CEPTI C IN THE E I GH TE EN TH CEN TURY. 65
H ighness for wi sh ing to provide for my food ; but
I humbly ent reat that he w i l l not be very anxious
to prov ide for my l odg ing.
”
When o rdered to l eave Par i s,on h i s re l ease from
h i s s econd impr i sonment i n the Bast i l e,Vo l ta i re
went to England ; and here was , undoubted ly, the
turn ing-po int of h i s ent i re future career. Engl i sh
freedom and Engl i sh thought were j ust beg i n n i ng
to i nfluence the th i nk ing m inds ofh i s count rymen .
French l it erature and French s c i ence were a lmos t
ext i ngu i shed under the comb i ned i nfluences of
arb it rary power and pr i est ly i nto l erance Books
were burned and authors impr i soned at the p l eas
ure Of a b igot ed eccl es iast i c i sm and a superst i t ious
c iv i l ru l e ; and when educat ed men became ac
quaintedwith the l i t erature and laws of England,the contrast of i t s freedom i n thought , freedom in
worsh ip,i t s government of const i tut i ona l law and
guarant eed r ights,with the i r h elp l ess subj ect ion
to abso l ut e and pr i est ly ru l e, awakened the deep
est des i re to study yet more i nt imate ly Engl i sh
l i t erature,Engl i sh s c i ence
,and Engl i sh po l i t i ca l
i nst i tut i ons .
I nto the m idst of these i nst i tut ions , th i s com
parative ly wonderfu l and adm irab l e freedom of l ife
and thought,Volta i re was thrown by th e operat ion
of arb itrary power. He was brought under such
influences as that of Newton i n phys i cal s c i ence,of Locke i n mental ph i losophy, of Shak speare i n
poet ry, of Shaft esbury and th e Engl i sh De i st s in
rel ig ion. Cous i n says , Before Vo lta i re knew
S
66 A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GHTEEN TH CEN TUR Y.
England he was not Vo lta i re ; and the e ight eenth
century was ye t look i ng for i t s k i ng. Everywhere
i n h i s wr it i ngs he dwe l l s w ith enthus ia sm on th e
popu lar freedom of England,on i t s st eady ma int e
nance ofhuman r ight s aga i nst Oppressors i n Church
and State . How I love,
” he cr i es out,
“ th e Engl i sh bo ldness ! How I love those who speak out
what they th i nk ! Th i s was not poss ibl e i n France,
where,as Buckl e says,
“if a l i st w efe drawn up of
al l th e l i t erary men who wrote dur i ng the seventy
years succeed i ng the death Of Lou i s X IV .,i t wou ld
be found that at l east n i n e out of every t en had
suffered some gr i evou s i nj ury from the govern
ment,and that a maj or i ty of them had been actu
al ly th rown i nto pr i son . Among those authors who
were pun i shed,I find th e name of nearly every
Frenchman whose wr i t i ngs have surv ived the age
in wh i ch they were produced .
”
Vo l ta i re thoroughly l earns i n England how to
say what he th i nks . But if h e l ikes the Engl i sh
freedom ,he d is l ikes the Engl i sh gloom of t em
p e ram ent, wh i ch he attr ibut es to the fogginess of
the c l imate and th e preva lence of the east w i nd .
He meet s some gent l emen who were i n adm i rab l e
sp i r i t s the day before , but who now are a l l g loomyand depressed . He ventures to ask one what i s
the matter,and get s for a reply that the w ind i s
east “At that i nstant, a gent l eman comes i n and
says , with unconcern , that Mo l ly’
s lover had found
her dead,with a b loody razor by her s ide. No one
ra i sed an eyebrow at the news, one of the fr i ends
68 A SCEFT1 C 1N THE E I GHTEEN TH CEN TUR Y.
we do not find a supreme -God over al l ; and there
i s no one wh i ch was not or ig i na l ly estab l i shed i n
order to make men les s v i c i ous Wh i l e the othe r
wr i t ers of the Encyc lopaed ia were pronounced ath eists and mater ia l i st s, ca l l i ng v i rtue
“ a w i se ly um
de rstood se lfi shness,” re l ig ion “ a gaseous effus ion
of the bra i n,” and God “ a creat ion of superst i t ion
and fear,
” Voltai re and Rousseau prot est ed agai nst
these extremes, and became the butt of r i d i cu l e
among the i r compeers . Grimm says sneer i nglyof the former,
“ The patr iarch can’
t get r id of h i s
remunerat i ng avenger. ”
XI n I 752 Vo l ta i re began th e D i ct ionna i re Ph i
losoph ique The idea was firs t broached at one
of King Freder i ck ’ s ph i losoph i c suppers . But ofa l l men Volta i re l east deserves the t i t l e of a
ph i losopher ; and h i s t reatment of great top i cs,
not method i ca l ly, but alphabet i cal ly, wel l typ ifies
the preva i l i ng want of al l method i n thought,and
th e overthrow of wh at may be cal led t rue ph i lo
soph i c th i nk ing. But the D i ct ionary enab led h im
to treat Of such subj ect s as h e p leased, i n th e man
ner b e pl eased . Wherever th e Opportun i ty Offers,he improves i t to probe superst i t ions, s tab e cc le si
astical nonsense , and r id i cu l e rece ived dogmas .
Thus,under the t i t l e “
Abb ! ,” he wr i tes
“ I hear the abb! s of I taly, Germany, Flanders, Burgundy, saying :
‘Why should not we accumulate richesand honors ? Why should not we be princes like thebishops ? They were originally poor as we ; they havebecome rich and exalted ; one Of them has become
A SCEPTIC IN THE EI GH TE EN TH CEN TUR Y. 69
supe rior to kings : let us imitate them as well aswe can .
’ You are right, gentlemen . Seize upon theearth it belongs to the strong or the able, wh o may takepossession of it . You have made good use of the timesof ignorance, of superstition, Of folly, to despoi l us of ourinhe ritance and to trample us under your fee t, and fatten
yourselves on the substance Of the wretched . Tremblelest the day of reason shall come
He ends h i s art i c l e on Democracy by sayi ng
Every day the question is asked whether a republ ican
government be preferable to that of a king. The discussion always ends by agreeing that it is a ve ry difficul tth ing to govern men . The Jews had God himself for amaster
,and see what has happened to them : they have
been almost always conquered and enslaved and do younot think that to-day they cut a very fine figure ?
Aga in , under“Abraham
,he wr i t es :
“ Certainly, if one looks upon this account as natural,he must have an understanding very different from whatwe have to-day, or he must conside r each detai l as miraculous
, or bel ieve that the whole is an al legory ; but whatever theory is adopted, it is very embarrassing.
”
Among the works of Vo l ta i re bear i ng d i rect lyupon re l ig ion i s a co l l ect i on of s ermons and hom i
l i es , supposed to’
have been del ivered at d ifferent
places and t imes by persons ofvar ious nat i ons and
creeds . He can thus v i ew the phases of Chr i st i anbel i ef and pract i ce from each re l ig ion as a cent ra l
po i nt . The fi rst sermon i s de l ivered to an assembly offifty, who meet on Sunday, have prayers and
70 A SCEPTI C IN THE E IGH TEEN TH CEN TURY.
a sermon,then d ine together, and take up a co l
l ect i on for the poor. Each member i s pres ident
i n turn,and conduct s the re l ig ious se rv i ces . The
fi rs t s ermon beg ins thus
My brothers, relig ion is the secret voice ofGodwhichspeaks to all men. It ought to unite them together, andnot to divide them. Every rel igion, therefore, which belongs exclusively to one nat ion must be false. Re l igionought to be universal , l ike moral ity ; and every re ligionwhich ofl
'
ends th e moral law must surely be false .
”
Then the moral i ty of the Scr ip tures i s scrut i
nized,as fol lows
“ You know,brethren , what horror has seized upon us
when we have read together the Hebrew books, and ourattention has been called to the violations Of purity. goodfaith
,j ust ice, chari ty, and unive rsal reason, which are not
only there, but there in the name ofGod.
”
The exampl es of such vi o lat i ons are then spec i
fied i n deta i l , and the d i s course c loses w i th the
prayer that men may become“ more tru ly re l i
g ions , adorers of the one God of j ust i ce and love,
and l ess the v i ct ims of i gnoran ce and superst i t i on .
”
A nother sermon i s by a J ew i sh rabb i i n Smyrna,who takes for h i s theme the horr ib l e execut ions
made by the savages of Li sbon , cal l ed an auto-da
fe’
, or“ act of fa i th
,where i n two Mohammedans
and th i rty-s even J ews were burned to death .
A nother takes for i t s theme God and man
They say that God’s j ust ice is not our just ice . They
might as well say that twice two is four is not the same
A SCEPTIC IN THE E I GH TEEN TH CEN TURY. 7 I
t ruth to God and man. There are not two diffe rentkinds Of t ruth . We can comprehend God ’s justice onlyby the idea we have of justice in ourselves . God, as aninfinite being, must be infinitely just .
”
In another discourse, i t i s mai nta i ned
“ that no prophet or leader ever gained disciples bypreaching vice or c rime . Jesus preached a universalmorality, —love to God and love to man. He neverintended to found this Christianity, which, as it has existed since the time of Constantine
,has been further te
moved from Jesus than from Zoroaster or Brahma. Jesushas been made the pretext for our fantastic doctrines, ourpersecutions
,our crimes against rel igion ; but he was not
their author. The horrible calam it ies wi th which Christianity has inundated countries where it has been introduc edafflict me, and make me shed tears and I despisethat heart of ice which is not moved when it considers thereligious troubles which have agi tated Eng land, I re land,and Scotland .
I n another p lace he thus apostroph i zes
Godofjustice and of peace let us exp iate by toleration the crimes which an execrable intolerance has causedus to commit . Come to my house rat ional Socinian,friendly ! uaker, st rict Luthe ran , gloomy Pre sbyterian,indifferent Episcopal ian, Mennonite, Millenarian, Methodist, Pietist,—you , too, mad Papal slave, provided youhave no hidden poniard —let us bow toge ther before theSupreme Be ing, and thank him for having given us rea
son to know him and hearts to love him ; let us eat joyfully togethe r after giving him thanks .
72 A SCEPTI C IN THE E IGH TEEN TH CEN TUR Y.
We can but be sorry for that suggest ion of
the pos s ib l e dagger h idden under the robe of
the Cathol i c brother,and doubt if Vo l ta i re had
arr ived at perfect to l erat i on .
A s an h i stor i cal wr i t er, Vol ta i re was i n advance
of h i s age . H is specu lat ive v i ew,not narrowed
by part ia l i ty for church or sect,l ed h im to wr it e
,
not so much the h i sto ry of dynast i es and spec ia l
i nst i tut i ons, as to unfo ld the great i nt erests of
human ity and i ts advance from barbar i sm to c iv i l i ~
zation. Where Bossuet saw on ly one l i t t l e st ream
Of deve lopmen t through ecc les iast i cal channels,
Vo l ta i re saw the great outspread Ocean,i nto wh ich
ran al l the r ivers from mounta i n and pla i n . The
pr in c ip l es of h i stor i cal . cr i t i c i sm he carr i ed out
cons i st ent ly, applyi ng them to the J ew i sh as wel l
as to Greek and Roman narrat ives
These books,
” he says, are not judge s in the ir owncause . I do not believe Livy when he tells us that ROmulus was son of the god Mars . I do not bel ieve theearly Engl ish authors when they say that Vortiger was asorcerer. I do not believe the Old historians of theFranks when they refer their orig in to Francus, the son
ofHector . And I ought not to be l ieve the Jews on thei rown testimony alone, when they relate extraordinaryevents .”
The sp i r i t ofVo l ta i re, mock ing, i rreverent, b i t
ter,and re l ent l es s
,found an ample fie ld i n wh i ch
to d i sport i tself. He early l earned to set l i tt l e
va lue upon the hard names by wh ich he was ca l l ed.
A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GH TE EN TH CEN TUR Y. 73
He had heard Lord Shaft esbu ry everywhere de
nounc edby Roman Catho l i c wri ters as an athe i st,
ye t Lord Shaftesbury mai ntai ned that“ pe rfect ion
of v i rtue was owing to a be l i ef i n God . He had
heard Jansen i st s denounce J esu i t s,and J esu i t s
accuse Jansen i s ts as god less . Even pure and de
vont men l ike Malebranche,Pasca l
,and A rnau ld
d id not escape. Those who spoke orwrote aga i n s t
the fo l l i es of the convalsionnaire man ia, that se ized
ent i re d i str i cts,were st igmat i zed as athe i sts ; and
i t was grave ly charged aga inst an advocat e of the
newly i ntroduced d i s covery of i nocu lat i on for smal l
pox,that he was “ an athe i st i nfected by th e fo l
l i es of the Engl i sh .
” He heard Bayl e un iversal lyspoken ofas an athe i st , because h e ma i nta i ned as a
theoret i ca l specu lat ion that a commun ity Ofath e
ists might st i l l be held together by mora l and so
c ial bonds ,—a propos i t i on wh i ch M i l l and manyothers today have advanced w ith impun ity. He
saw that i t was cal l ed athe i sm merely to quest ion
th e suflic iency ofany al l eged proofofGod’ s exi st
ence,or ofany propos i t ions dependent thereon .
But Vol ta i re had h i s l i tt l e revanch e, when the
good Dr. Wo lfius,an i nnocent sou l and a wo rthy
man,ventured to prai s e the moral i ty of the Ch i
nes e, whom the J esu i t m i ss ionar i es had ca l l ed a
nat ion of athe i st s,and was
,i n consequence
,over
whe lmed w ith accusat ions ofathe i sm . Now,when
extreme words are thus i nd i scr im i nate ly used,i t shows that th ey have lost the i r mean ing, have
become empt i ed of the i r rea l contents . He who
74 A SCEPTI C I N THE E IGH TEEN TH CEN TURY.
t ru ly be l i eves i n God shr i nks from say i ng that anyone i s an athe i st ; but he i n whose i nmost sou l th e
word 0669 stands for l i t t l e of moment w i l l eas i lyput the pr ivat ive letter before the word
,and bran
d i sh i t about as lus ti ly as an ath l et e h i s I nd ian
cl ub . I n one of h i s prefaces,Volta i re says that
the od ious and r id i cu lous pract i ce of accus i ng
as athe i st s a l l who are not exact ly Of the same
sent iments w i th u s, has contr ibuted more than
any oth er cause whatever to render controversycontempt ib l e to al l Europe .
”
XVo l ta i re espec ial ly glor i ed i n be ing a poet,
one of the crowned k i ngs of vers e. Whatever the
great bards had done,he wou ld do al so ; and he e s
says the construct i on Of an ep i c wh i ch shou ld be
th e I l iad of the French nat ion . He wr i tes La
H enriade .
” To us of to -day, Volta i re and poet rys eem incongruous enough . The poem
,however
,
on i t s pub l i cat i on was rece ived w ith an immense
furor of prai se ; but i t requ i res now a te l escop i c
l ens of great magn ifyi ng power to br i ng i t fai rlyi nto V i ew . Pure ly loca l i n i ts subj ect , unfortunate
i n tak i ng for that subj ect the c iv i l war i n the t ime
of Henry IV. of France,i t contai ns the most ah
surd al l egor i ca l mach i nery, and i s t rue ne i ther to
ideal demands nor to h i stor i c fact . But the real/Voltai re
,i n the m idst of extravagant exaggerat ions
and convent ional im i tat ions,shows h im se lf i n h i s
descr ipt i on of the massacre of St . Bartho lomew,
at the ann iver sary of wh i ch he was said always
to have been fever i sh ly exc i t ed ; and not l ess he
76 A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GH TE EN TH CEN TURY.
never cou ld,comprehend the real gen ius of th e
great dramat i st,whose plays he cal l ed monstrous
farces , mz'
snamed trag edies He cou ld not help
d i scern i ng th e impress iven ess of i nd iv idual s cenes,
but he had no idea of the dramat i c art as a nat ional
deve l opment . With h im,the spectacl e and the
declamat ion were al l . He says
It is farmore difficult to write well than to put upon thestage ghosts, assassins , rakes, g ibbets, andwitches . Worksinverse must depend upon particular beauties andifAddison ’s ‘Cato ’ is the masterp iece of Eng lish dramat ic art,it owes its place to nothing but to these .
Yes ; Add i son’ s Cato
,abso l ute ly correct in
the un i t i es,decorous and state ly i n language , ex
c e eding ly we l l -phrased, euphon ious , and e loquent ,i s s imply the ant ipodes to Shakspeare i n al l that
concerns the real essence of dramat i c art . Hence
i t i s,no doubt
,genu i ne pra i se that Vol ta i re be
stows upon i t. Shakspeare i s on ly a barbar ian
and a hangman,who looks ne ither to s tyl e nor to
convent ional un i t i es,nor to propr i et i es before the
court and the nob i l i ty. Horr ib l e, that h i s k ings
shou ld use the language of the canail le .’ H orri
bl e,that genu i ne emot ion shou ld be expressed i n
genu ine words of ord i nary l ife ! Horr ib l e, that
men and women Shou ld do such a vu lgar th ing as
d i e i n the presence of pr i n ces,and that pr i nces
and ki ngs Shou ld be s impl e,ord inary men !
I t i s on ly natu ral that Vo l ta i re shou ld.
fa i l to
detect the pure ly human character ofShakspeare’
s
A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GH TE EN TH CEN TUR Y. 77
dramas . ! u ick he was to fee l deeply and decla ime loquent ly against i nj ust i ce and wrong ; but i t was
on ly priestly i njust i ce and ecclesiastical wrong that
fi l l ed h im thus w i th b i tterness , and thr i l l ed through
every fibre of h i s be i ng. The worth of man as
man,and the dreams of un iversal human i ty never
dawned upon Volta i re, so versat i l e, SO acut e, SO
i n im i ca l to co rrupt ions , abuses , an d Shams . He
was a court i er and a sycophant . He had no bel i ef i n th e people
,but an un l im i ted fa i th i n the
regenerat ion of the wor ld by ph i losoph i c k ings .
He had a profound contempt for what was pure lynatura l
,s imple
,unostentat ious
,and genu ine ; and
how cou ld he d iscern the n i ce human it i e s of Shak
speare ’ s gen ius,the de l i cate forms throbb ing w ith
the i r i nner l ife,and true to the fai ntest breath Of
natural pass ion and imaginat ive love !
Vo l ta i re cla ims to have atta ined that qual i tywh i ch was i nd i spensab l e
,— s impl i c i ty ; and he
condescend i ngly exhorts Engl i sh poets to softenthe rude manners of the i r savage Me lpomene
,and
labor for the approval of al l t imes and al l ages.He wou ld have them introduce a happy s impl i
c i ty i nto the i r plays , so ta i nted w ith horrors , gib
bets , and S laughter ; to put i nto them more truth
and more noble images . A strange spectac l e,
Volta i re find i ng fau l t w i th Shakspeare for h i s want
of nobl e images,t rue s impl i c i ty, and tenderness i n
love ! We are not surpr i sed,therefore
,that he
ca l l s Shakspeare’
s Hamlet ” “ a gros s and barba r
ous play, wh ich wou ld not be endured by the v i lest
78 A S CEPTI C IN THE E I GH TEE N TH CEN TUR Y.
popu lace Of France or Italy. H is standard of
taste was whol ly convent ional . To some one,
speak ing of the natural force of that express ion
i n Shakspeare to i nd i cate the und i s turbed s i l ence
of the watch , not a mouse st i rr i ng,” he re
pl i ed : “ Yes,that i s the way a so ld i er on guard
wou ld speak ; but that i s not the way to express
one ’ s se lfon the stage i n the presence of the most
nob l e lad i es of the nat ion , who express themse lves
i n nobl e styl e , and before whom noble express ions
ought al so to be used .
”
What can we expect from such a po int of view
as th i s ? Sure ly, noth ing more than we find,— st iff
formal i ty, co ld e l egance, attent ion to fine speeches
rather than dramat i c unfo ld i ngs of character ; st r ik
i ng po i nts i n S i tuat i on i nstead of fide l i ty to na
ture ; effect ive declamat ion , not language spr i ng
i ng from natural fee l ing and th e necess i t i es of the
s ituat ion,i n a word
,a drama class i ca l i n form ,
correct i n styl e , and , above al l , pre-em inent lygentee l and court ly In a i r
,conform ing to the un i
t i es,and v iolat i ng none of the rece ived cr i t i ca l
dogmas . Such was the drama of Volta i re, who
s lav i sh ly fo l lowed precedent here if nowhere
e l s e i n l ife .
Sharp i n i nte l l ect,i ndefat igab l e i n i ndust ry,
with a vast memory and an ever-ready wit , Vo l tai re
composed a whol e l ibrary of books , verses, ep i cs ,plays , cr i t i c i sms, l ett ers , b iograph i es , tal es, and
h i stor i es,each re lated to the t imes , and each the
embod iment ofh i s own personal i ty i n some prom i
A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GH TE E N TH CE N TUR Y. 79
nent phase of i t s deve lopment . Prin c ipl e s he had
none ; h i s own i nd iv idual prej ud i ces and l ik i ngs
were h i s on ly ru les . He obeyed the dom i nant
impu l se of the moment , and w ithout real pass ion
was the most pass ionate Ofmen . He d id not be
long to the new age : he was the aveng i ng Nemes i s
of the o ld, and never shook off i t s po i sonous fo lds .
The st renuous labors ofVolta i re for those con
demnedand oppressed by the i n iqu i tous laws , gave
h im h i s great European reputat ion . Th i s became
notor i ety from the i ntercours e between Freder i ck
the Great and the renowned poet -ph i losopher,
first by that fr i endsh ip wh ich rece ived the com
moner as an equal,and treat ed h im as a brother
k ing; and then by that enm ity wh ich made Vo lta i re almost the central po i nt of European goss ip
i n court and soc ia l c i rcl es . Freder i ck urged h im
to come to Berl i n i n the fol lowing let ter,blas
ph emous if i t were not so fu l some and s i l ly
There is a smal l company of persons who have set upal tars to the godwhom they have not seen but you maybe sure that some heretics wil l set up altars to Baal if our
goddoes not show himse lf pre tty soon . You will be re
c e ivedas the Virg il Of this century, and the gentleman-inordinary of Louis XV. wi ll g ive way, if he pleases, to the .
great poet . Adieu . May the swift steeds of Achil lesbe ar you on, and the highways be made plain before youMay the inns ofGermany be changed into palace s to rec e ive you May the winds of o lus be shut up in theircaves
,the rainy Orion disappear
,and our pot-house
nymphs be transformed into goddesses, so that your
80 A S CEPTI C IN THE E I GHTE EN TH CEN TURY.
journey and reception may be worthy of the author of‘H enriade
Here al so i s Vo ltaire ’
s jubilate soon after h i s
arr iva l '
Mymarriage has taken place will it be a happy one ?
My heart beats violently at the al tar. It is th e fi rst t imethat a king has governed without women and p riests .
When at one of th e ph i losoph i c suppers the
Op i n ion of the k i ng was first asked,Freder i ck
made no reply.
“Why do you not respond ?
some one asked . The k i ng,sai d he
,
“ i s not I
h e i s Volta i re . When I am at the head of a hun
dred thousand men,I am the k ing ; but when I sup
w ith Vol ta i re,he i s the k ing.
But aft er a wh i l e we hear a d ifferent tune.
The peace of the happy fam i ly i s d i sturbed, and
Volta i re wr i tes :
I must forget this three years’ dream . I see very
well that the orange has been sucked, and al l I can dois to save the pe el . I am going to make for my own in
struction a l ittle dictionary ofking ly dialect . My friendmeans my slave.
’ My dear friend means You are morethan indifferent to m e .
’Sup w ith me this evening
’ means‘ I am going to make fun of you this evening .
’But I am
very sorrowful and ve ry i ll ; and to crown my m ise ry, I
take supper with th e king ! ”
I t seems to have been a real matr imon ial t iff,
and a case Of i ncompat ib l e t empers . Of course
a d ivorce i s poss ib l e,and the great poet -ph iloso
A SCE PTI C IN THE E I GH TEEN TH CE N TUR Y. 8 !
pher,under a fe ign ed name, left Ber l i n secret ly ;
but he was arrested and thrown into pr i son on
the charge of steal i ng a manuscr ipt of the great
Freder i ck ’ s poems .
When he final ly ret i red to Ferney, i n Sw i tzer
land,Voltai re was more than s ixty years o ld, hav
i ng in the mean t ime accumulated a large fortune
and become the central obj ect offr i ends and foes .
TO rece ive homage was the c la im of th i s i nte l
l ectual k i ng,— homage be ing as necessary to h im
as to any earth ly pot entate . The p lace fixed upon
for h i s abode bordered upon four d ifferent coun
t r ies,and he had now throngs of worsh ippers and
mu l t i tudes of readers . With indefat igab l e i ndus
try he wr i tes ep i st l es , pamph lets , poems , flyi ng
leaves of al l sort s, to amuse and i nt erest an ap
p lauding , a horror-str i cken , a d i st racted E urope
hurry i ng to i t s j udgment -day. He i s abso lute lywithout any of the ord i nary and accepted rever
ence s, fears, respects, or restra i nts ; a devastat i ng
fi re seems to have swept over and through h i s sou l .
But ecc les iast i ca l abuses and i ntol erant cruel tytouch a chord i n h im that never ceases to v ibrate
and send forth notes ofwarn ing and protest . He
says what he l ikes, and does what a pass i ng capr i ce
d i ctates . A church on h i s grounds i ntercept s a
fine v i ew : he pu l l s i t down and b u i lds another,
over whose portal s i s the i nscr ipt ion in Lat i n ,DEO EREe VOLTAIRE
,—“
Erected to God by
Vo l ta i re. ” He bu i lds a watch manufactory and
a th eatre , ~ drains marshes,ass i sts the poor, buys
6
82 A S CEFT1U IN THE E I GH TEEN TH CEN TURY.
books and p i ctures , and proposes to partake of the
commun ion l ike “any other Chr i st ian c i t i zen .
”
But the b i shop puts an i nj unct ion on th i s by or
deri ng that no pr i est shal l rece ive Vol tai re ’ s confe ssion or grant h im absolut ion . Not to be balked
thus , the cunn i ng old head pretends to be on h i s
death -bed, s ends for a pr i est , from whom he re
c e ive s ab so lut i on , and get s the fact du ly attest edby the publ i c notary. I n return
,moreover
,for a
p i ece ofprofitab l e i nt ercess ion,he rece ives the t i t l e
tempora l father of the Capu ch i ns ofGex,
” wh i ch
he makes a matter of humorous boast ing.
Volta i re’
s w i t spares ne i ther fr i end nor foe . A
prov in c ial advocate i n an e loquent address sa lut
i ng h im as a l ight of the world,he cal led to h i s
n i ece,Madame Den i s
,Madame
,br i ng here the
snuffers ! ” When he i s past e ighty, an enthusi
ast io young Engl ishwoman vis i ts h im,and thus
wr i tes concern i ng her i ntervi ew
“ Neve r did the transports of Saint Theresa surpassthose which I expe rienced at the sight of this great man.
I t seemed to me' that I was in the presence Ofa god. My
heart beat with violence as I entered the courtyard of
this consecrated chateau . Vol taire soon came in, saying‘Where is she ? It is a soul that I am looking for.
’ Irepl ied
,
‘This soul is al l fi lled w ith you : if your bookswere all burned, they would be found in me.
’ ‘Revise dand corrected
,
’ was his witty reply.
”
When tak i ng l eave,th i s devoted adm irer asked
a b less i ng from the obj ect of her adorat i on . At
84 A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GH TEEN TH CEN TURY.
expresses i t , Vo l ta i re d i ed i n Par i s i n I 778. I n
179 1 h i s coflin was borne to the Pantheon,and
depos i ted between that of Descartes and of M ira
beau,
an apotheos i s ,”says Lamart i ne, i n h i s
rhetor i cal phrase, of“ i nte l l igence enter i ng i n t r i
umph over the ru i ns of prej ud i ce i nto the c i ty of
Lou i s XIV .
But what of Voltai re ’ s work ? ! u i net comparesth i s w ith that of the angel of wrath pour i ng out
upon the condemned C it i es Of the Pla i n su lphur
and b i tumen i n th e m idst of the howl ing tempest
SO the sp i r i t ofVolta i re walked over the face Ofthe d ivi ne c i ty, and poured out gal l , i rony, and
ashes . H is work was not that of a pr ivat e i nd i
v idual,but of an i nst rument of the vengeance of
God.
” There was surely Scope enough for anywel l -t empered i nst rument Of th i s so rt . A s lat e as
the year I 763 a young man was sentenced to the
torture of the rack, to have h i s tongue torn out,
and then to be beheaded. For what ? For i nsu l t
i ng a cruc ifix placed upon a br idge ! I n 1 762 a
Protestant father and mother were condemned to
death on the charge of havi ng k i l l ed the i r own
daughter,who escaped from a convent and was
found drowned i n a wel l . At about the same
t ime,five young men d ied on the scaffo ld for not
tak ing Off the i r hats when they saw a pr i est lyprocess ion pass along at a d i stan ce of th i rty paces .
Wel l may Volta i re say, i n a l etter to the A rch
duchess Lou isa,
“ Rel ig ion among us i s preached
by execut ioners . I s i t st range that Vo l ta i re re
A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GH TE E/VTH CEN TUR Y. 85
tal iated i n the same sp i r i t ? Enfant i n has r ight lycharacter i zed Vol tai re as do i ng h i s wo rk i n th e
sp i r i t of an execut ioner, because he struck wi th
out sympathy for h i s v i ct ims .” Yes
,i t wa s God ’ s
century Of j udgment and destruct ion ; and Vo l ta i re
was i ts ch i ef apost l e .
That Voltai re was not on ly th e representat ive
but the ch i ld of h is epoch , Strauss p l eads as a bar
aga in s t persona l cr i t i c i sm and i nd iv idual condemnat i on . A ccord i ng to h im
,Vo l ta i re ’ s character i s
the natura l resu l t of the Sp i r i t Of the t ime,as wel l
as the on ly fi tt i ng i nst rument by wh ich the fau lt s ofthat t ime cou ld be made known and chast i s ed . The
corrupt t ime i ts e lf produced the lash wi th wh i chi t was scourged. Had there been on ly a pure,calm
,d i spass ionate temper i n Vo l ta i re ’ s attack
,i t
wou ld have ava i led noth ing ; for i t wou ld have
been l ike a flame with i n the w i re network of the
safety- lamp,and no explos ion wou ld have taken
place i n the po i sonous and dead ly gasses . On lyh i s sharp
,b i tter
,cutt i ng sarcasm and contempt
cou ld p ierce O ld abuses to the heart,and open
the way for h igher truths .
I n th i s respect,Vo l ta i re was
,i ndeed
,the man for
the hour. He seemed denuded of al l reverence and
a l l reserve ; and contempt seemed h i s nat ive a i r.
H is fau lt s of t emper, h is lack of consc i ence, h i s
br i st l i ng se lf- l ove and overween ing conce i t, s erved
h im wel l . We wi l l endeavor to be as grat efu l as
we can for the ha i l and the p i t ch,the br imstone
and the fire ; but they are ha i l and p it ch and br im
86 A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GH TE EN TH CEN TURY
s tone and fi re st i l l . We wi l l do our best to acknowl edge that debt of grat i tude we owe to h im ;for
, accord ing to Lord Brougham ,
“ no one can be
named s i nce the days ofLuther to whom the sp i r i t
of free i nqu i ry—nay, the emanc ipat ion of the
human m ind from sp i r i tual tyranny—owes a more
last i ng debt ofgrat i t ude .
”
It i s hard,however
,for us to separat e the work
done from the pe rsonal mer i t or demer i t of th e
i nstrument th rough wh i ch it was done ; but that
separat ion must be made if any j ust verd i ct i s to
be rendered i n regard to the work itse lf. MO
tive s, character, i nd iv idual excel l ence or worth
lessnes s,have no bear i ng upon th i s except as
further i ng or detract i ng from the resu l ts brought
about . With the confident audac i ty of an um
measured re l i ance upon h i s Sp lend id ta lents,h i s
shrewd cunn ing,h i s percept ion of the v i ce
,the in
human i ty, the weak po i nts , of th e assumpt ions ofthe Roman Catho l i c Church
,—everywhere host i l e
to freedom of thought,to t rue nat ional i ty, to the
un ity of the fam i ly and the State, to a l l advance i n
s c i ence,al l soc ia l changes not i n the l i ne of i t s
own eccles iast i c dogmas and cla ims to dom ina
t ion,—Vo l ta i re l ed the attack aga i nst superst i t ion ;
the i nfamous foe,as h e regarded i t
,of the hu
man race. He was fettered by no scrup les of con
sc ientious care lest he shou ld wound th i s t ender
sent iment or that holy t rust ; for he was w ithout
any concept ion of the mean ing of those deep re l i
g ious t endenc ies wh i ch pardon everyth i ng to that
A SCEPTI C IN THE E I GH TEEN TH CE N TUR Y. 87
wh ich i s assoc iated w ith the i r r i se and the i r
v ivac i ty of impres s iveness . He was carr i ed byno fl ight ofgen ius i nto thos e h igher v i s ions wh i ch
belong to creat ive power ; so that a l l h e wrote
found ready ears and rec ip i ent response . So oh
tuse was he to the noblest unfo ld i ngs Of the gen ius
of re l ig ion and poetry i n the past , that th e Goth i c
cathed ra l was to h im but “ a fantast i c compound
of rudeness and fi l igree . Th is h ighest qua l ityof gen ius wou ld have been a fatal obstac l e to such
a work as Vol ta i re was the inst rument i n effect
i ng,and wou ld have incapac i tated h im from be i ng
the successfu l leader i n that for lorn hope of at
tack ing the stronghold of ecc les ias t i cal abso lut i sm
wh i ch ban ished , impr i soned , curs ed , and to rtured
wherever there was Oppos i t ion to i t s c la ims . That
Oppos i t ion was everywhere ; for i t was the r i s i ng
sp i r i t ofmodern soc i ety seek ing to establ i sh i tse lf
on the bas i s ofhuman i ty and common -sense.
That Volta ire held on ly a secondary place among
the world ’ s great leaders and representat ive men
was the ch ief factor i n h i s success . Comte was
r ight i n cal l i ng h im “ the most d i s t i ngu i shed type
in h i story of the provisional laborers i n i nte l l ectual
and soc ia l reform ,— one who to the remotest pos
te rity wi l l ho ld a pos i t ion ent i re ly un ique, i n whomthere was the most adm i rabl e comb i nat ion
,such as
may never aga i n be found , of those var ious second
ary qual i t i es of m ind wh i ch so Often wear the s e
ductive gu i se of or ig ina l gen ius . ”
Here i s the key to that wonderfu l mastersh ip,
88 A SCEFTIC IN THE E I GH TEEN TH CEN TURY.
that phenomenal greatness, of h im who has been
cal led “Vo l ta i re, the k ing. H is work aga i nst
the m ighty fo e Of human freedom,of i ndependent
nat iona l i t i es, of the sanctuary of. consc i ence and
sp i r i tua l persona l i ty, has not yet come to an end ;but i t i s i n far d ifferent hands, and must be aocompl i shed by far d ifferent methods . The mock
i ng laughter d ies away ; the fi re and the wh i rlw i nd
have c leared the atmosphere so that we can nowl i sten to the st i l l, smal l vo i ce that speaks w i th in
th e i nmost sou l , and cheers every s i ncere long ing“for God, freedom , and immorta l i ty.
”
NEMESIS IN GREEK TRAGEDY.
CROSSING a bare common in snow-puddles at
twi l ight, under a c louded sky, without havi ng i n
my thoughts any occurrence of spec ial good for
t une, I have enjoyed a perfect exh i larat ion . Al
most I fear to th i nk how glad I am .
” Thus, from
h i s own re lat i on to pr im i t ive nature,spoke Emer
son, our modern s eer. The gladness was too great
for the smal l morta l cup,and i t seemed almost an
i nv itat ion to the tempest that shou ld fo l low.
The o l d Greek fe l t the same t rembl i ng of the
balance between joy and fear, and Nemes i s wasborn . With the general i ty of men the gladnes s
comes,not when wad i ng through snow-pudd les
,
but i n flowery meadows and grassy paths ; not at
tw i l ight and under a c loudy sky, but i n the broad
sunsh i ne and glow of day. The Greek saw that
noth i ng was stab le,noth i ng permanent i n the
heavens above or i n the earth beneath ; and out of
h is subj ect ive exper i ence h e created an Obj ect ive
character, exa l t ing the human appearance i nto a
d iv i ne person ifi cat ion . I t was not for man w ith
h i s l im i tat ions of state,nature
,l ife, and means of
good, to be too prosperous , too knowing, too happy,
90 NEMESIS IN GRE EK TRAGED Y.
too powerfu l . Says Herodotus : The d iv i n i ty,hav ing g iven a taste of the sweet ness of l ife
,i s
found afterward to be envious of that happ i ness . ”
Ifman were complete ly healed of d i sease, of course
Pluto would be robbed Of h i s r ightfu l prey ; and
therefore Escu lap ius, the hea ler of the S i ck, i s
str i cken down by the thunderbol t of Jove. Pro
m eth e us, who takes p i ty on the sh iver i ng, help l ess
race of man and steal s for h im the spark of fi re
from heaven,i s cha i ned and tortured . Solon te l l s
Croesus that “ the d iv i n i ty i s a lways j ea lous , and
that t ime const ra i ns men to see and to suffer manyth i ngs that they wou ld not w i l l i ngly see and suf
fe r Amasis says to h i s fr i end Polycrates , Your
too g reat good fort une does not p l ease me, knowing
as I do that the d iv i n i ty i s j ea lous . I cannot
remember that I ever heard of any man , who, hav
i ng been cont i nual ly successfu l, d id not utter lyper i sh .
” Herodotus puts i nto the mouth of Ar
tabanus,when d is cuss i ng w ith X erxes the expe
diency Of the war w ith Greece,these words
,in
wh i ch the aspect of the de i ty toward man , or the
d ivi ne Nemes i s,i s c lear ly stated
'
DO you not se e how the deity always hurls his thunde rbolts against the loftiest buildings and the highesttrees ? For the de ity strikes down everything that isexal ted too high ; and a large army is often destroyedby a smal l one , when the jealous deity strike s them withpanic or lightning, so that they perish unworthily, becauseth e de ity w i l l not suffer any one but himse lf to cherishlofty thoughts .
”
92 NEM'
ESIS IN GRE EK TRAGED Y.
what i s due . The emot ion fe l t i n award i ng th i s
j udgment w i l l der ive i t s qual i ty from the nature of
h im who feel s i t . The mal i c ious man rejo i ces at
th e m isfortunes of others ; the env ious man gr i eves
at the prosper i ty of al l but h imself; wh i l e, hold i ng
the mean between these ext remes,the j ust man
,
i nsp i red by Nemes i s , gr i eves on ly at the prosper i tyof the unworthy. Thus i n Greek thought the fierce,env iou s
,mal i c ious gods recede
,and a d ivi ne power
,
an a l l -adjust i ng righteous e lement, a d iv i ne Neme
Sis, pres i des over human dest i n i es .
Mountain tal l andocean de epTrembling balance duly ke ep .
A s Sai nt V ictor 1 says of Zeu s, that, before he
became condensed i nto the grand form Of King
ofO lympus, he wandered i n the storms of a i r, - so
we may say of Nemes i s, that, before she figured as
the ce lest ial maiden w ith the r ight hand po i nt ing
to the breast , the eyes cast down i n reflect ive
med i tat i on , and the l eft hand hold ing a br id l e, ora chal i ce carr i ed w ith even hand so that no drop
was sp i l l ed , before th i s crystal l i zat ion i nto the
express ion of a harmon ious law of moral order
took place, Nemes i s was the implacab l e Erinnys,the stern D i ce, the i nexorabl e Adraste ia, raging
w i th envy at human success, str ik ing down everyhead as i t emerged from the low mortal l evel ; a
ch i l d of n ight or of E rebus,a formless dread im
pend ing over what was great and beaut ifu l andstrong.
1 P. DE SA INT VICTOR : Le s Deux Masque s, vo l . i . p . 96.
NEMESIS IN GREEK TRAGED Y. 93
With an i ntu i t ion i nto the moral order of th i ngs,
the poet Hes iod cal led Nemes i s the daughter of
N ight,j u st as he cal led D ece i t and D i scord and
crumbl i ng O ld Ag e daughters Of Night ; and i n
the popu lar speech whatever i nj u st i ce, overween
i ng presumpt ion , or man ifest excess of evi l ten
de ncy brought about pun i shment was cal l ed a
Nemes i s,or d ivi ne retr ibut ion . An i ntense
,per
sonifying pass ion makes E l ectra, i n Sophocl es,appeal to Nemes i s as the aveng ing sp i r i t of the
dead when Clytemnestra says that her husband
had been r ight ly s la i n : Oh hear, E l ect ra ex
c laims,bel i evi ng her brother to be dead
,-
“ Oh
hear,thou Nemes i s of the but lately dead !
I t was the Greek love of order and propo rt ion,
the Greek i ntu i t ion of a pr i nc ip l e of r ighteousness
and moral harmony, wh ich made Nemes i s not so
much a mytho l ogi c personal i ty, though scu lptured
by the art i st and appealed to as a de i ty, as a un i
versal ly spread consc iou sness of an ever-present
sp i r i t of beauty, wh ich thru st away the deformed
and the vu lgar ; the sp i r i t of maj est i c seren i tyand repose
,wh ich qu i eted al l s tormy scenes and
al l v io l ent ext remes ; of an i nward consc iou sness
of r ight, the vo i ce of God i nn i ng i n the flesh,and
man ’ s sufl‘ic ient consolat ion and strength . Soc
rates,in the Republ i c,
” when about to express an
Op i n ion where he does not fee l the abso lute su retyof t ru th , i nvokes Adraste ia, or Nemes i s , that he
may not say rash ly and incons iderate ly what wou ld
m is lead h imself and h i s fr i ends, and SO be worse
94 NEME SIS IN GREEK TRAGED Y.
than the homic ide whom that implacab l e goddess
pun i shed . Not w i th impun i ty cou ld the word
transgress i ng the boundary l i ne of the eternal
real i t i es,be uttered ; and even i nvo luntary error
cou ld not go unscathed .
Thus i s developed i n the Hel l en i c m ind the idea
of a moral law,pervad ing the world and immanen t
i n l ife,wh i ch restored every d i stu rbed equ i l ibr ium ,
br i ngi ng down everyth i ng to a tru ly human level ,and suffer i ng no excess in' he ight or measu re be
yond the real s tandard of a common human i ty.
What the impart ial consc i ence decreed, that was
the verd i ct of Nemes i s . That tendency of th i ngs
by wh i ch secret cr imes were brought to l ight, bywh i ch a vio lat i on of the u nwri tten laws agai ns t
the help l es s,the dead
,the i nnocen t was avenged
,
was a part ofNemes i s . She was not so much a d i s
t i nct de i ty wi th a defin i t e form and attr ibutes, as
a concrete word by wh i ch the moral harmony of
the world was i nd i cated,— that tendency wh ich
makes for righ te oune ss i n every sphere of be ing ;wh ich wi l l not let th i ngs be forever m i smanaged,or what i s unj ust and unfa i r forever prevai l .
The gen iu s of IESChylus was e s s ent i al ly poet i c,and he wrought out i n mas s ive subl im i ty, i n grand
symbo l s , the fearfu l resu l ts of v iolated r ighteous
n ess . He deal t i n colossal types of sufferi ng and
woe,of struggl es w i th the d ivi n e ord i nan ces , of
efforts to res i st the Operat i ng pr i nc ipl es of eternal
j u st i ce, of mortal weakness contend ing with the
immortal and omn ipotent Fates . With h im poetry
NE IPIESIS I N GREEK TRAGED Y. 95
perfo rmed it s t rue work of free ing and exalt i ng
human ity. Too much has been made of Fate as
the overmaster i ng idea i n the drama ofIEschylus .
No dramat i c act ion can ever come from purely pas
s ive tool s ; for un less the doer fee l s the re -bound
of h i s own voluntary acts , he i s but a w i re -pu l l ed
puppet,and wou ld be no more i nterest ing than a
rock heaved up by the res i s t l es s wave .
The spectators of the dramas of IE schylus and
of Sophoc l es were present at scenes i n wh i ch the
be i ngs whom the peopl e regarded as supernatural
powers,and whose guard ian help they i nvoked,
were represented . The dest i ny of the characters
i n these dramas was unro l l ed before the spe cta
tors,who were cal led upon to sympath i ze w ith
the i r sorrows and the i r struggl es . Thus,as Sel
lar says :“A h igh ly i deal ized and profoundly
rel ig ious character was imparted to the tragi c re
presentat ion Of human pass i on and dest i ny on the
A then ian stage. ” 1 There, i n the condensed ep i
tome of years and centu r i es before h i s eyes , was
the poet ’ s reconc i l iat ion of the d ivi n e and human
i n character,h i story, and l ife. I t was to the Ath e
n ian what at some per iods has been the i nsp i red
preacher to the Chr i st ian church,—when the l i st
ener found h imself; d iscerned the h igher mean i ng
of l ife ; saw the l ight from supernal spheres l et
i n upon h i s sou l,and found for what was best and
nobl est i n h imself i nsp i rat ion and he lp.
NO more effect ive pres entat ion of the d iv i n e
1 RomanPoe ts of the Re publ ic, p . 1 24.
96 NEME SIS IN GRE EK TRAGED Y.
Nemes i s as apprehended i n the h igher Hel len i c
consc i ousness cou ld be given,than we have i n the
Pers ians ”of[Eschylus How shal l the poet dea l
w i th th i s subj ect, the overthrow of the Pers ians,
a subj ect so n ear to and so much a part of the
aud i ence themselves , —ih order to throw aroundi ts deta i l s the haze of poet i c i l lu s ion
,and rai s e
i t i nto the sphere of i deal grandeur and moral
beauty ? He accompl i shes th i s end by one s impl e
stroke : he transfers the scene of the drama to the
Persian cap i tal,and the Pers ian palace . That per
sp ective wh ich remoten ess of t ime gives to deeds
of the past, i s here furn i shed by d i stance of space
and the imagi nat ive glor i es of a far-famed court,ofwhose magn ificence and power the recen t i nva
s ion had given th e too-evident proof. Th is m ightyempi re had been defeated
,and the A then i an spec
tators had th emselves been the mai n agent s of th e
defeat. Athens was to be glor ified, and yet w ithout awaken ing that overween ing pr ide and self
confidenc e so fatal to sobern ess of thought ; without
cal l i ng forth the latent demons of self-exu l t i ng
prai se,or l ead i ng to barbarous peal s of empty ex
h ilaration . The A then ian explo i ts are recounted ;but throughout the ent i re drama there i s the m inor
k ey of sorrow, ofipity, of deep hum i l i ty, of i ntense
commiserat ion and a trembl i ng human fear, wh ich
w i l l not suffer th e . triumph over the foe to be too
s elfish or too pronounced . The chorus of reverend
men l eft to keep watch and ward over the k i ng
dom expresses i ts forebod i ngs of i l l . I t exu l ts in
NEMESIS IN GREEK TRAGED Y. 97
the proud array of th e k i ngly host , wh ich , c i tydes troyi ng, marched acros s the sea paved w ith
planks and bound with cord and chai n . But
there steal s over th i s bright sun l ight a creep ing
m i st ; i t i s th e thought that the gods do not al low
unm i ngl ed prosper i ty .
Butwhen th e gods de ce ive ,Wile s wh ich immortal s weaveW ho Shal l beware ?W ho, when th eir ne ts surround,Breaks with animble boundOut Of th e i r snare ?
Urged by the same present iment of i l l , the aged
queen of Darius and mother of X erxes comes to
con su l t these anc i ent, t ru sty Pers ian men i n re
gard to the dreams that have n ight ly d i sturbed her
rest s i nce her son departed w i th th e army to“ br i ng
destruct ion on A tt i ca. They advi s e her to sup
p l i cate the gods— and espec ial ly the dread shade ofDar ius
,who had v is i ted her i n v i s ions of the n ight
to send bl ess i ngs on her son . She then asks them
about A thens ; and the prai s e ofA thens i s put i nto
the mouth of the Pers ian chorus . Now ente rs a
messenger announc i ng the tota l destruct ion of th e
Pers ian host ; and the chorus responds w i th i ts
mournfu l wai l , as’
one by one each feature of th e
awful d i saster i s recounted . From the summoned
shade of Dari us comes the counse l not to i nvade
Greece agai n ; and i t utters the Solemn moral ,Proudthoughts we re ne ve r made for mortal man ;A haughty spirit blossoming bears acropOfwoe , andreaps aharve st ofdespai r.
98 NEMESI S I N GREEK TRACEE Y.
Jove is chast i se r ofhigh-vaunt ing thoughts,Andheavily fall s h i s judgment on th e proud.
A nother scen e, and the final on e, br ings to a
c l imax th i s sol emn unfo ld ing of th e d iv i ne Neme
s i s . X erxes h imse lf enters, —a lonely fug i t ive,bemoan ing h i s fate ; h i s regal robes ren t; h i s vo i ce
ra i sed i n agon iz ing wai l over h imselfand h i s coun
try, for whose loss and m isery he i s to blame.
Instead of tr iumphal shouts,we hear th ese wai l
i ngs of wo e over the brave whose dead bod i es are
wash ing up agai nst th e rocky c l iffs of Greece, or
strewing i ts shores . The god on earth i s t rampl ed
i n th e dust ; the god i n heaven alon e ru l es . The
chorus t ears Off i t s venerabl e beard,t ears off i t s
fo lded robe,and w ith re i t erated exc lamat ions of
woefu l lament,mingl i ng i t s t ears and wai l s w i th
those of the hum i l iated,weep i ng k ing
,l eaves i n
so l emn fi l e the deso late stage.
How s impl e the means,h ow effect ive the resu l ts
ofth i s anc i ent lyr i c tragedy ! For actors, a few aged
men as a choru s,a messenger
,a w idowed queen
,a
ghost ly shade from the tomb, a fugi t ive k i ng. But
s i t there w ith the A then ian upon h i s bench ; see
w i th h i s eyes, and hear w ith h i s ears . Listen to
the firs t d i stant thunder Ofmournfu l present iment,
unt i l th e tempest bursts forth,and sky and earth are
enveloped i n one Sheet of e l emental flame. On lythus can one even fa i n t ly apprec iate the effect of
such an acted poem of th e d iv i n e Nemes i s,with
al l the accessor i es of fi tt i ng mus i c and state lydance, shr i l l cr i es and p i erc ing strai ns Of sou l s
IOO N EME SIS IN GREEK TRAGE D Y.
h istOric t rad i t ion . The furi es of th e father are
appeased on ly to awaken the more savage fur i es
of the mother again st the son who had shed her
b lood. I n va i n does O restes appeal to the Al l
s ee i ng Sun to witness that he has j ust ly stai n ed
h i s hand i n a mother ’ s blood . He i s not at peace ;he sees i n the background the Fur ies wi th awfu l
faces,black garments
,and terr ibl e m i en
,with hai r
of wri th ing snakes and scorp ion wh ips , howl ing
for the i r prey. To the cho rus i t i s but a vain
phantom,but to h im they are
“ substant ial horrors,
the i nfernal hounds ”sent from h is mother. They
swarm around h im , they hunt h im forth,and not
even at Loxias ’ altar can he be at rest . On ly the se
ren e Goddess ofWisdom can give the cast i ng vot e
wh i ch re l eases h im from the madden i ng avengers .
Here we have,i n a ser i es of connected tabl eaux
,
the del ineat ion of that process by wh ich a r ight
e ous Nemes i s secures i ts ends .
With Sophoc les there are th e same main i nc i
dents of the sto ry ; but when O restes avenges h i s
father ’ s death he does a r ighteous act,wh ich Apol lo
has commanded and approves of,and the work of
Nemes is i s compl eted . Brother and s i st er have
acted under th e i nsp i rat ion and gu idance ofApol lo,
the God of Light , the pur ifier, c l eanser, and de
stroyer of noxious th ings . The rays-
of the morn
i ng sun sh in e upon the r ighteous attempt,and the
chorus exu lts at the c los e that the descendants of
A treus have, by i t s successfu l accompl i shment,wrought out the i r freedom .
NEMESIS IN GREEK TRAGED Y. IO I
The presence of a d ivi ne force of Just i ce aecom
pl ish ing i t s ends i s everywhere confessed, though
no vi s ibl e Fur i es scourge the Offender ; and i n
one place there i s the rare but cur ious ment ion
of Nemes i s by name . The vi l e IEg isthus, see i ng
the covered dead body Of the queen,exu l ts over
i t,th i nk ing that i t i s Orestes who has per i shed ;
and he dares to say that i t was through the d i s
p leasure Of the gods . But even h i s hardened and
perverse sou l i s struck by the enorm i ty of such an
assert ion,and he hasten s to add
,
“ But if Nemes i s
i s l i sten i ng,I recal l my words . A s if words
,
w inged w i th the thought, cou ld ever be recal l ed !No ! Nemes i s i s by ; Nemes i s i s l i sten i ng ; Nemes i s
i s sw ift er than the word. The next moment he
exu lt i ngly str ips off the cover i ng,and knows h i s
doom .
Throughout al l the dramas of IEschylus there i s
the same cent ral pr i n c ip l e . I n the Seven aga ins t
Thebes, from the fi rst stormy appeal t o arms,
and the rebuke by E teoc l es of the maiden chO
ru s, wh ich humbly craves the he lp of protect i ng
and loving Powers ; h i s throwi ng to the w i nds al l
counse ls of prudence and moderat ion; h i s head
long rashness,wh i ch cr i es out
,
S ince Godso hotly u rge s on th e thing ,Le tall of Laios ’ race , whom Phoebus hate s,D rive with th e windupon Cokytos
’ wave
h i s defiance Of“ the fierce and hot curse of (Edi
pus, and of the gods who scorned h i s house of o ld,andof the warn i ng not to hu rry to shed a brother
’ s
I02 NEMESIS IN GRE EK TRAGED Y.
blood,—h e ru shes onward to s lay and be s lai n ,
to make good the bl i nd father’
s curse,and l i e
beneath
A boundl ess wealth ofearth .
In the Suppl i ants the appeal i s to revere the
fr i end of the suppl i ant, th e guard ian of the suf
fe ring , s tranger guest ; to honor the daughter of
Zeus,—D i ce
,or apport i on i ng Just i ce, whose wrath
cannot be appeased. The prayer to Zeus, the
possessor of blessedness , i s to be free from 58pm,
or wanton arrogance, that pride wh i ch he sore lyhates . Upon th i s excess , destruct ion always wa i t s .
Of the Prometheus Bound,” the only untreated
extant drama by tE schylus, i t i s imposs ibl e to saywhat was the way i n wh ich the d ivi ne Nemes i s
was unfolded . I t i s but a fragment, one of three
acts ; and i n th i s act Prometheus te l l s h is own
story, and g ives h i s own vers i on of what he d id
and why he suffered . He just ifies h imse lf,and
hurl s defiance agai nst h i s seem i ngly unjust ifiabl e
oppressor. But the sympath i z i ng chorus, wh ich
ye t e l ects to share h i s fate, h i nts at that audac ious
reck lessness wh i ch can never go unpun i shed, and
s ings of that “ harmony of Zeus ” wh ich can never
be d isturbed by the vai n coun se l of mortal men .
Therefore i t i s imposs ib l e to be l i eve that I ’E schylusmeant to represent
,as She l l ey says , Prometheus
to be the type of the h ighest perfect ion ofmoral
and i nt el l ectual natu re,impe l l ed by the purest and
the t ru est mot ives to the best and noblest ends .
IO4 NEME SIS IN GREEK TRAGED Y.
nate more n i ce ly as to mot ive, impu lse , purpos e, and
character. Th i s was i n the natural cou rse of dra
mat i c evolu t ion,as the ep i c and the lyr i c e l ements
became fused together i nto a h igher synthet i c
form . I t was al so i n accordance w ith the pol i t i
cal and soc ial deve lopment ofA thens , where everyth i ng was fu l l of l ife, everyth i ng changing and
i nterwork ing'
to n ew i ssues and fresh so lut i ons
of the eternal problem s of moral s and re l igion .
I n Sophoc l es the harmon ious , serene, al l -recon
c il ing character of h i s poetry was the natural ex
pres s i on of the harmon iou s and seren e character
of the man . I n h i s v i ew no excess , no morb id con
test of pass ions , no eccentr i c outbu rs t of moods,
confused the rhythm of that eternal law wh i ch was
not outs i de but i n s ide the sou l of man . Ant igone
can calm ly v iolate the h ighest human authori ty,bu t cannot Sin agai nst the supreme mandate of her
own sou l She can res i gn every earth ly joy, shecan d i e : to pl ease the l ivi ng i s for a moment
,to
please the dead i s forever. Sophoc l es never parades the i nternal contests of the sou l i n order to
atta i n some sensat ional end ; he unfolds them on lyso far as i s necessary for the atta i nment of purifi
cat ion and repose . With h im heal th must comefrom elevat i on i nto a purer a i r ; peace, from the
resolut ion of el emental d i scords i nto a central
harmony. The law i n man pun i shes pride,re
stra i n s arrogance,d i sc loses gu i l t
,—that eternal
law “ wh ich no morta l establ i shed,and wh ich no
o l d age can impai r. The Fur ies themse lves are
NEME SI S IN GRE EK TRAGED Y 105
lu l led to s l eep by h i s song. Like IEschylus, he
was penetrated through and through wi th the
sacred character of h i s work ; so that Landor i s
r ight when he makes h im say of h imse lf: “ I am
on ly the i nterpreter of the heroes and d iv i n i t i es
who are look i ng down upon me .
”
Noth i ng can be more m i s l ead i ng than the att empt to make character izat ion a prominen t feature of the Greek drama
,as i t i s undoubted ly of
Shakspeare’
s p lays . I n I‘Eschylus and Sophoc l es
there i s no dep i ct i ng ofvar ious and man ifo ld tra i t s
w i th del i cate and subt i l e Shad ings of mot ive, im
pu l se,and tendency. The i nd ividual i t i es are strong
and pure ; but they are not real flesh and b lood,chang i ng wi th the changi ng breeze and t inged w i th
vary i ng hues, as the fresh l ife-cu rrent, wel l i ng up
from the heart,retards or qu ickens the pu l se and
sends a pass i ng c loud or sun l ight over the coun
tenance . They are not forms subj ect to everySkyey influence, whose real fee l ings, moods, and
pu rposes are subj ects to specu late about, l ike
those ofany actual , l iv i ng person whose character
assumes a d ifferent aspect accord i ng to the d iffer
en t po i nt of v i ew . The personages are p last i c
form s,expre ssing afew defin i te, wel l-definedqual i
t i es s imply and d i rect ly, i n accordance w i th the
s impl i c i ty and d i rectness of the t ime . Sch i l l er
sa id : “ I t seems to me that the characters of
Greek tragedy are more or less i deal masks , andnot i nd iv idual persons. But the i r real nature
i s more‘
c learly des ignated by Hegel , who says :
1O6 NEME SIS IN GREEK TRACEE Y.
The personages are ne i ther what we in the mod
ern sense term characters,nor are they pure
abstract ions ; bu t they stand between these two
ext remes,—firm figures
,wh ich are j u st what they
are,and noth i ng e l se
,without any i nternal col l i
s ion,andwithout any m ingl i ng of confl i ct i ng el e
ments ; absol ute ly determ i ned characters based upon
some defin i te and s impl e moral state . That i s,
there i s i nd iv idual character,but al l forces are
excluded except those wh i ch work i n a straight
l i ne ; and therefore no h igher cal cu lus i s needed
to determ i ne the d i rect ion and movement of the
imp i ngi ng Obj ects . There are no i nfin i t e g rada
t ions of gu i l t and mental suffer i ng, of waver i ngs
and confl i cts of pu rpose, of infirm itie s of resolve
,
ofgradual harden i ng of consc i ence and obscurat ionof the i nner l ight . Our i nterest i s not that of an
overpower i ng personal sympathy, ou r j udgment not
d i stracted by var ious and complex v iews of l ife and
conduct . I n the modern drama there i s the free
p lay of i nd iv idual states,feel i ngs
,i d i osyncras i es
ofmood and temperament,personal tra i t s and com
plex s i tuat ions,with new comb inat i ons spr i ng ing
from the act i on and react ion of co l l id i ng vi ews ofl ife and duty. The anc ien t heroes and hero i nes
go stra ight to the goal,and are but l i tt l e affected
by the cu rrents and counter-cu rrents proceed ingfrom vary i ng humors and i nterj ected s ide- i n ter
ests Of a large number of dramat i c personages .
Now, i t i s because of th i s var i ed and complex
nature of Shakspeare’
s dramas, because he works
THE POPE IN THE RING AND
THE BOOK .
THE o ld Pope,tremb l i ng on the verge of the grave,has waded through al l the dreary documents on that
dreary winter’ s day. Some of them are dreary
enough,even after they have been shaped i nto what
the poet fanc i es i s a r i ng ; but what must they have
been i n the rough ? I nnocent X II . has read them
al l through ; and what next ? He wi l l look to the
h i s tory of h i s predecessors, so that he may take
i nstruct ion from them,and haply get some prece
dent i n the case. The Pers ian k i ng,A rtaxerxes o r
Ahasueru s, made search in the book of records of
h i s fathers,and find ing evidence enough of the re
be l liou s Sp i r i t of J erusalem,decreed that a stop
shou ld be put to th e’
rebu ilding of i t s wal l s . SO
the Pope wou ld find i n the h i story ofh i s prede c e s
sors some l ight to gu ide h im i n the dec i s i on he was
to make as the last court of appeal,whether Gu ido
Francesch i n i and h i s accompl i ces shou ld be snatched
from death .
In search ing thus to see what God had gai ned
or l ost by having a vicar or representat ive i n the
world,the good Pope comes across a cu ri ou s pre
cedent,not very wel l adapt ed to make h im confi
THE POPE 11V THE RIN G AND THE B OOK”109
dent i n h i s own.
j udgment, or secu re i n h i s own
i nfal l ib i l i ty a s Pope, and vo i ce of the u nchange
bl e One . He find s a ghast ly decree agai nst Pope
Formosus after he was dead and bur i ed ; then dug
up and seated i n Sai nt Peter ’ s chai r ; then con
demned, and the corpse cast i nto the T iber ; then
next year the sentence reversed, and the Pope re
pOped, and h i s condemner pronounced accursed ;then th i s j udgment condemned
,and Formosu s
aga i n cast out ; then , last ly, the final sentence
given,Fo rmosus decreed a holy man , and al l h i s
d ign i t i es restored . Which of al l these was the in
fal l ib l e decree ? I n wh i ch d id God Speak ? Tru ly,a puzzl i ng conundrum to the anxious seeker after
h i stor i cal precedent .
But the Pope gets what i s better than any l i teral
exampl e or d i rect precept : he gets i nsp i rat ion,
courage,l ight . He sees that the o ld Formosu s
condemned,abso lved
,condemned and absolved
agai n,was no wise affected in real i ty by al l the
var i ed processes of embalm i ng, d i s locat ion , de
vouring by fishes, m iracu lous resto rat ions , and
final re i nstatement as a corpse in good stand ing,
as a Pope of immacu late fame. Not al l these con
demnations cou ld touch the sou l of the man .
Courage,then
,and stand by thy sou l , now when
th i ne own turn has come to give judgment ! Now,
he, Pope I nnocent, i s to speak in God’ s name ; to
speak the word wh i ch i s to push a poor,weak
,
t rembl ing,human wretch over the edge i nto “ the
awfu l dark. or to ho ld out the hand and draw h im
1 10 THE POPE IN
back . It i s winter outs ide : i t i s ye t more sombre
winter i n the Pope’
s sou l , as the darkne s s Of even
i ng shut s from S ight the d i smal documents . But
h i s course i s c lear ; h i s m i nd i s made up ; he has
no i rresol ut ion . Yet he pauses before he r i ngs
the hand-bel l and makes known h i s i rrevocabl e
senten ce. Why ? Because he may be fal l ible in
h i s j udgment ? O r does he fal l back upon h i s
i nfal l ib i l i ty as God’ s v i cegerent, as s i tt i ng i n
Ch r i st ’ s seat ? Never th i s p l ea from first to las t .
He i s a man,and as a man may poss ib ly err .
But if he err, i t i s i n ignorance ; and that i s“ h i s
sorrow,not h i s s i n .
No morb idness of consc i ence i s i n the sound
hearted o ld man,though he i s an eccl es iast i c ; he
makes strenuous u se of al l the facu lty God has
given h im,and not God h imself can ask more.
God j udges by the i ntent and not by the out
ward act ; God knows the i ntegr i ty of h i s heart,
and therefore he has no fear at al l . I t may be the
last act Of h i s trembl i ng e ighty-s ix years ; but in
that l as t act w i l l be tasted the true product of h i s
heart and sou l . The method of j udgm ent taken,
the tr ibunal appealed to by th i s sou l laden with“ the cark and care of the who l e world i s the
p ivotal th i ng so far as the Pope i s concerned . I t
i s, in fact, a pract i cal commentary on these words
of Emerson :
“Whoever looks w ith he ed into his thoughts wi l l findthere is somebody within him that knows more than hedoes, a simple wisdom behind all acquired wisdom some
1 1 2 THE POPE IN
th i s e l ectr i c l ight stead i ly burn i ng, far-flash ingi t s beams i nto every dark corner, every foggynook
,every cobwebbed hole, he br i ngs out tr i ck
ster and verm in,wolf and fox, forger and coward,
fool and murderer, — al l i n one . So also i s re
vealed that cho i ce flower Of earth , that b lossom“ gathered for the breast of God ”
:
Se e how this me re chance-sown, cle ft-nursed se ed,That sprang up by th e wayside ,
’neath th e foot
Ofth e e nemy, th is breaks all into blaze ,Spreads i tse lf, one wide g lory ofde sireTo inco rporate th e whole g reat sun it love sFrom th e inch-h e ight whe nce it looks and long s.
Then what a human ly sm i l e sweeps across the
r igid papal mask,as th e good sou l cal l s up the
v i s ion of the masquerad i ng Caponsac ch i, str ipped
Of al l h i s convent ional pr i est ly c loth i ng, and l eap
i ng at the first cal l i nto the arena to fight for God !What c l ear i n s ight
,on th i s bas i s of a pu re ly human
touch,i n separat i ng the apparent from the real
,the
su rface from the substance ! Yet at last comes
the doubt whether th i s l ight may not be from a
coal b lown br ight by h i s own breath, and not be at
al l the l ight of the upper sky ! I nstead of a cel es
t ial star there may be on ly a burn i ng coal !A qu i ck
,co ld thr i l l c reeps over h im
,and h i s
ten se nerve s lackens at the doubt . Why not face
i t,and look for that h igher l ight from wh ich h i s
own l i tt l e spark of i ntel l igence i s drawn ? H ow
ever l i tt l e,th i s m i nd of man i s i n i t s degree the
representat ive,
“ though but an atom-width,”
of
THE RIN G AND THE B OOK ”1 13
the measure l ess i nte l l igence . However smal l th i s
earth,i t became among al l the peopled stars the
stage for that t ranscendent act of se lf-sacrific inglove, wh ich makes the seem ing defic iency Of good
ness in the work of God equal to the man ifest
i nte l l igence and st rength . He bel i eves i n th i s
d iv i n e story of un l im i ted se lf-sacrific e , and finds
noth i ng lacking of“ perfect ion fi t for God . A ll
the pai n of l ife i s meant to br ing out the moral
qual i t i es of man,to make h im lov ing and pure
,
and to form the moral sense wh i ch grows by ex
e rc ise . Man i s to make a fa i rer world than he
finds here ; and so Pompi l i a i s not lost, and Gu ido
may be saved i n that large l ife wh i ch awai ts those
who pass out of th i s smal l wor ld . Th i s earth i s
but the start i ng-po i nt,not the goal .
But th i s thought te rrifie s h im ,that those who
profess to know the worth of the pr i ce les s pear l
dredge on ly for whelks and mud -worms,—as thearchb i shop
,the bare -foot monk, the Convert i tes,
the women meant to he lp women , who yet for
a l i tt l e expected i nher i tance S lander the sa i nted
mother and wou ld rob her ch i ld . I s th i s the out
come of “ seventeen hundred years s i n ce God d ied
for man ”?
Then,further, i t forces i tse lf upon h im that
love and fai th l eap forth to -day, not u nder the
authori ty of the Church , bu t at the cal l of purelyhuman i nst i nct . The Chr i st ians
,— i nto what cor
ners have they s lunk ? But the l ight w i l l st i l l
burn . The clouds are su n -suffused,the i r soft
8
1 14 THE POPE IN
st reaks are beaut ifu l ; and that wh i ch Seems weak
ness i s but the i ncent ive to human ity ; so that the
d iv i ne act Of se lf-sacrific e , never end ing, always
begi ns for man . Then al l i s l ight .
SO doe s th e sun ghastl ily se em to s inkIn those no rth parts, lean all but out of life ,D e s ist adreadme re breath ing-stop then S lowR easse rt day, begin th e endle ss rise .
The OldChri st i an hero i sm , he th inks, i s impos
s ib le,perhaps
,because there i s such an ignobl e
confidence and cowardly assurance i n the truth as
be i ng al ready won .
But what v i s ion ri ses before h im ? He sees the
dawn ing of that terr ib le e ighteenth centu ry, whose
m is s ion i t i s to Shake al l the p i l lars of assured
fa i th,to Shake that bel i ef i n th e report wh i ch has
been subst i tuted for bel i ef i n th e th ing that was
reported,and to correct the o ld portra i t, the
man ’ s God by the God’ s God i n the m ind of
man . Ah,what a morr i s -dance for the se lfish
n ess,the greed
,the pass i ons of men !
But he w i l l sm ite w i th al l h i s strength,i n Sp ite
of the p leas to a sen se of honor and an educated
taste ; to pr iv i lege of the cl ergy and i nterests of
the Church ; to c la im s of cu ltu re and c ivi l i zat i on ;to the necess i ty of the husband ’ s supremacy over
the w ife ; to the appeal for h im to spare h i s own
c los i ng l ife th i s b loody sett i ng, and to spare the
Church from i ncoming Luthers,Calv i ns
,and Mo
l i nos ; to w i n the bened i ct i ons of the c i ty. I n
spi t e of al l , he g ives the order for the execut ion
BROWNING’
S IN A BALCONY.
Now ! Not now ! ” So r i ng i n staccato tonesthe plea and i ts den ial . The man asp i res “ to l ive
i n harmony w ith tru th ; the woman fears that the
Open t ru th wi l l be the i r ru i n . Why cannot the
present l ife of sto l en i nterv i ews, of secret confi
deu ces,wh ich ne i ther queen nor court su spects
,be
cont i nued ?’
The woman—pol i t i c,afra id of meet
i ng the d i rect consequences of open avowal—be
comes the adro i t casu i s t,the convi nc i ng pleader
for i nd i rect i on , and for avert i ng the man ly avowal
Of the i r mutual love. The forecast i ng prudence
offers a compromise,and that comprom ise i s
re lu ctant ly assented to by the lover.
Evident ly we have here an utterance d ifferent
from that wh i ch came from another moon-l i t bal
cony, where the lovi ng heart expresses i t self i n thewords
,
“ Andall my fortune s at thy fe e t I’ll lay,
Andfoll ow the e , my lord, throughout th e world.
Yet here, too, in th i s dramat i c sketch by thegreat poet , we do have a love-t ragedy, —t ragedyi n every sense . A t ragedy i s someth ing more than
BROWN ING ’
S “ IN A BALCON Y.
”1 17
a fatal resu l t,a death
,an i nev i tabl e stroke from
the outs ide . Death comes to al l , but we do not
therefore cal l i t a t ragedy, whether acc idental or
necessary. D i sappo i ntment, thwart i ng of h ighest
purpose,wreck upon some l ee-shore, may be t ragi c
enough ; but the S imp le happen ing of these events,though accompan i ed by untold suffer i ngs and an
gu i sh,does not of i t se lf const i tute a t ragedy i n the
t rue sense of the word . I n a tragedy the real el e
ment of patho s and terror i s from w ith i n and not
from without : i t i s the col l i s ion wh i ch comes
from moral oppos i t es,from irreconc i lab l e ideal s
,
from confl i ct i ng forces i ns ide the sou l , from the
dest royi ng t empest rush ing by i nev itabl e laws out
of that quarter wh i ch had been looked to as the
very source of peacefu l seren i ty. A s the end of
al l the i r joyous ecstasy Of l ove,the i r hopefu l
s chemes,the i r p laus ibl e plans for outw i tt i ng the
convent ional pressure al l around them, Romeo and
Ju l i et find the wor ld i n wh i ch they are to dwel l as
smal l as the boundar i es of “one l i t t l e grave. The
headlong rush of a love i rrespect ive of t ime and
sense and earth ly l im itat ions , bore w ith i n i t self
the very causes that br i ng about the fatal end .
I n the fragment before us,the col l i s ion comes
from the Oppos i t e po l es of that e l ectr i c current
wh ich streams through al l the paral le l and cross
i ng w ires of the human sou l and human l ife .
T is dang e rous wh en th e bas e r nature come sBe twe en th e pass andfe l l incensedpointsOfmighty oppos i te s .”
1 18 BROWN IN G ’S “ IN A BALCON Y.
”
Love wou ld have i t s own, but wou ld have i t i n ac i rcu i tous way, —st retch i ng a new w i re, cross i ngand i nter lac i ng the network of wires that al readyexi sted i n the actual l ife . The man saw clearlyenough the r ight th ing to be done, when he
says ,
Truth is th e strong th ing . Letman’s l i fe be true
And love ’s th e truth ofmine time prove th e re st .”
I n the l ight and warmth of th i s love he wou ld l ive
and work,no longer h id i ng i n corners and steal
i ng caresses i n the dark,but l iv i ng a man ly, open ,
ble ssed'
l ife , i n wh i ch al l shou ld see, and al l g ive
due acknowledgment of the source from which
that l ife was suppl i ed
“ 1 choose to have you stampedall ove r me ,Your name upon my foreheadandmy breast,You ,
from th e swo rd’s blade to th e ribbon ’s edge ,That men may se e , all ove r, you in me ;That pale love s may die out of the ir pre tenc eIn face ofmine ; shame s thrown on love fall off.Pe rmit this, Constance !
Does she perm it i t ? No ; she even m is i nterpret s
h i s noble long ing ; she th i nks he i s frett i ng be
cause she i s not yet who l ly h i s own ; he i s“ stum
bl ing at a st raw, when he w i l l r i sk al l to gai n
the wor ld ’ s cogn izance,
How h e love s h er, andhow sh e worships h im.
Thus she wou ld have Norbert p lay a fal s e part,not very fal se, as court i ers go, but st i l l fal se,and te l l the queen
,whose t enderness Seemed al l
1 20 BROWN IN G’
S “ IN A BALCON Y.
”
of her own rejo i c i ng i n the unhoped -for i ssue !The almost paralyzed maiden hears the queen
’ s
exu l t i ng proclamat ion that she w i l l brush awaya l l obstac les
,ret r i eve her calam itous youth, and
become the w ife of the young hero of her dearest
dreams . The poor g i r l dra i ns the cup to it s dregs .
She had counsel l ed that Norbert Shou ld speak of
her as but th e reflex of the queen, and i s taken at
her word “ I ’ l l come to you for counse l, says
the queen .
This h e says,This h e doe s ; what Shouldthis amount to , pray ?Be se e ch you , chang e i t into current coin.
Is that worth ki sse s ? Shall I please h im the re ? ”
Furthermore,Constance i s to be perm itted to
choose some one whom Sh e may love and marry.
I t i s,i ndeed
,an un looked -for catast rophe
,a sudden
overcast i ng Of the sm i l ing Sky.
Perhaps a yet more effect ive instance of dra
mat i c i rony i s that presented in the Th i rd Part ,when th e queen, i n the very noon and flood-t ide
of her ecstat i c j oyfu l ness, i s overwhelmed by the
calam ity that no courage can overcome and no
conso lat i on can cheer. She had gone out,fee l i ng
that she l ived i n a changed wo r ld wh ich God ’ s
sm i le had blessed, where everyth i ng was made forhapp i ness , and the love - l i t future was al l before
her i n wh i ch to redeem the past . She had had
dreams of bl i s s ; but th i s was as d ifferent
As the se stone statue s from th e fle sh andblood.
BROWNIN G ’
S“ IN A BALCON Y.
”1 2 1
Her last word as Sh e looked at the blessed moon
of Romeo,“ the i nconstant moon of Ju l i et
,was
,
Th e comfort th ou hast causedmankind, God’s moon
Now,however, she returns to find the lovers i n
each other ’ s arms .
But the reso l ute , se lf-compo sed Constance i s not
whol ly thrown off her balance ; what the queen has
seen i s a l l noth ing but the performance of a part
as her reflex,her he lper to love
,and on Norbert ’ s
part a fitt i ng exerc i s e ofh i s grat i tude to the queen .
She i s thus se lf-possessed and st rong,because the
h ighest mot ive has now ga ined fu l l possess ion of
her sou l . If human act i ng can accompl i sh i t,al l
these cross purposes shal l work to br ing about the
queen ’ s des i red ends . Constance w i l l sacr ifice
herse lf; and she expla i ns the sudden start i ng awayofNorbert as a rude repu l s e, as ifhe sa id ,
“ There,
now,I ’
ve had enough ofyou !” The k i ss was but
the thanks g iven to the too l he had employed, and
now threw away, a fi rs t, as wel l as what was
to be the last,k is s . Turn i ng to the queen
,Sh e
b ids her take h im w ith her own fu l l consent . Nor
bert,l ook ing upon i t as a poorl
/
jr played j est, asks
the queen to give h im h i s reward,—mean ing thehand of Constance. The poo r queen, st i l l i n th e
meshes of her delus ive dream,confesses al l her
love, and offe rs herself to Norbert . He cannot‘
understand what seems on ly a horr ibl e j est, and
throws h imselfat the feet ofConstance,sayi ng,
122 BROWN IN G ’
S “ I N A BALCON Y.
”
Now you knowThat body andsoul have each one l i fe , but oneAndhe re ’
s my love , he re , l iving at your fe e t .”
The queen i s S i l ent , but we see her there grasp
i ng fierce ly the bal cony,“ glar i ng w ith panther ’ s
eyes at Constance,who i n her tu rn succumbs
and glares back agai n . Now Norbert understands,
and says :
Was it your love ’s madtrial to o’
e rtopM ine by th i s vain s e lf-sacrific e ? We l l
,still
Though I shouldcurs e , I love you . I am love ,And cannot chang e ! Love ’s se lf i s at your fe e t ! ”
The queen ret i res,as wel l she may. The lovers
now find each other out,and i n the j oyfu lness of
perfect tru st awa i t the com i ng of the guard to
stamp upon the i r love the b lack seal of death .
At last the swan -song of love,here as i t i s not
a lways, i s,
“Andall my fortune s at thy fe e t I’ll lay,
Andfo llow the e , my lord, throughout e te rnity .
O r,as Constance expresses i t , we are here
t he breast of God .
But the Ph i l i st i ne asks for the mora l of i t a l l .Wel l
,he may sure ly see that to br i ng about ext er
na l success i t i s not best always to go cunn inglyto work
,i nasmuch as t ruth i s the sure th i ng
,the
st rong th ing,i n th i s un iverse of God . Constance
was fal se to love ; for Sh e cou ld imagi ne,one mo
ment at l east, her lover to be so base as to give h is
011
1 24 BROWNIN G ’S “ IN A BALCON Y.
”
way. She i s now h i s ; and that Sh e never was
before. H i s love w i l l never now decl i n e i nto the
commonplace and vu lgar l ife of the i r five hun
dred fr i ends ;”for now they are melted together
i n the d ivi ne heat of a furnace more than seven
t imes heat ed,and w ithout and w ith i n and around
“ i t i s one b laze, wh ich no t ime and no human
chance can ever put out. You may cal l i t ru i n ;but i t i s on ly the ru i n of the scaffold i ng
,without
wh i ch the templ e cou ld not have been bu i l t . You
may cal l i t sh ipwreck ; but the bark s i nks on ly“ to float on another sea.
Ifwe take Constance herself as the central figure
,and name the ent i re act ion from her pos i t ion
i n i t s course of development, we shou ld say,Part I . The fal se move i n advance.
Part I I . The surpr i s e and almost total rout ofthe advanc i ng forces .
Part I I I . The cal l i ng up of the reserves, and
v i cto ry along the whol e l i ne.
What the poet i ntended i n the sket ch we know
not,and
,alas ! can never know . He has passed
beyond our mortal S ight, and no one can vex h i s
ghos t to ask what he meant,what v i s ion of human
facu l ty and human dest i ny he saw i n the creat ions
of h i s poet i c power. To h im , no doubt, there was
a determ i ned real i ty, though to us there may seem
someth ing stra i ned beyond the l im it s of every-dayl ife and common exper i ence. To h im i t was the
portrayal of a sou l -cr i s i s , an act i ng out of supposed
dest i n i es,—wh ich
,grant i ng h i s analys i s, and look
BROWN IN G '
S“ IN A BALCON Y.
”125
i ng through h i s te le SCOp ic l ens , appear to be the
onward t ramp of forces that no human power can
res i st . A S the unfold i ng of such a spec ial s i tua
t ion,not as a t ransc r ipt of our every-day human
l ife, there i s wonderfu l st reng th i n almost everyl i ne.
More real dramat i c reproduct iveness of emot ion
and pass ion are here unfolded than i n any of the
complete dramas . The d ialogue i s mo re i nter
woven as cause and effect,as an immed iate re
spou se to the thought,and as a revelat ion not
mere ly of what i s thought at the moment,but of
what has been occupyi ng the m i nd. The thought
i s not stated as a categor i cal answer to que s t i on s
that are put and to speeches that are made ; but
i t takes on a more dramat i c l ife than i s found in
most of the l i terary dramas, fu l l as they are of
thoughtfu l study to readers by themse lves . He
cal l ed h imself Robert Brown i ng,wri ter ofplays ;
but if that were al l , he wou ld not atta i n h i s r ight
place and h i s fu l l power i n the present and the
com ing generat ions . Rather do we say,“ Robert
Brown ing,who expressed h imse lf i n every l i ne
that he wrot e,whether lyr i c poem or dramat i c
utterance ; who saw under some poet i c form the
myster i es that encompass our sou l s, and make u s
bow down i n reverence and in awe. ”
THE GREEK COMEDY OF MANNERS .
GREEK Comedy, as represented by A r i stophanes,was the un ique product ion of democrat i c A thens .
I t was an unbrid l ed car i catu re of publ i c and even
pr ivate l ife,—an act ed representat ion, i n fact , of
the burl e sque and sat i r i cal p lates of “ Punch ” or“ Puck
,
” when “ Punch ”and
“ Puck are most
po i nted and happy i n the i r take -off of pol i t i cal
and soc ial quest ion s . Under the patronage of
the Stat e,i t was a part of the Bacchus cu lt , l ike
the lyr i c t ragedy of fEschylus and Sophoc l es .
Woman,of course
,had no place i n th i s broad and
free j est i ng at whatever ran counter to the po l i t i
cal,soc ial
,and personal vi ew of the poet . Women
,
however,do appear i n on e play, i n wh i ch, d i sgu i sed
as men, they get possess ion of the assembly, de
cree a l l sort s of laws, and behave i n a way that
wou ld give comfort and sat i sfact ion to the most
pronounced Opponent Of woman -suffrage at the
present day. A s democracy dec l i ned, laws were
passed restr i ct i ng i n variou s ways the com i c poet ;and about the t ime of A l exander the Great app eared what has somet imes been cal led gentee l
comedy, or the comedy ofmanners and charact er.
1 28 THE GRE EK COME D Y OF MANNERS .
crossed one another ’ s path,and formed the general
stock in t rade of com i c wri ters .
I n th i s later comedy chance plays the same part
as fate i n tragedy ; human fo l l i es are contemplated
from the r id i cu lous S ide,and noth ing comes to a
ser ious and earnest i ssue. Th i s comedy deal s w it h
surface -appearances,not the solemn real i t i es of l ife.
I t i s not a h igher Nemes i s w ith i ts thunder-bo lt,
the burst i ng forth of forces long pent -up wh i ch
find the i r equ i l ibr i um i n the dart i ng el ectr i c spark.
I t i s the same e lement p layi ng i n aurora l gl eams
and broad sheet s of harm less flash ing s across the
firmament. I t i s no cr i s i s , or j udgment-day, but
a p leasant tournament , or a market fai r,where
the sudden shower determ i nes no fat e of contend
i ng arm ies,but on ly dampens the m i rth a l i t t l e
and wets some of the fine un iform s and gal lant
plumes .
I n Shakspeare we have both t ragedy and comedy ;not on ly i n s eparate dramas , but i nextr i cably i nter
woven in the same scene, j ust as i t i s i n l ife,
where the subl ime and the r id i cu lous,the severe ly
grand and the grotesque, t ear and sm i l e, pr imal
gran i te and tenderest flower,are found close to
gether. Mr. Rusk i n has so apt ly spoken of th i s
character i st i c,that I quote h i s words
Shakspeare has been blamed by some few crit icalasses for the rail lery ofMercut io, and the humor of thenurse in Romeo and Jul iet ; for the fool in Lear ; for
the porter in Macbe th ; for the grave-digge rs in Hamlet,etc . because, it is said, these bits interrupt the trag ic
THE GREEK COMED Y OE MANNERS . 129
fe eling . No such thing . They enhance i t to an incal
c ulable extent ; they deepen its degree, though they dim inish its durat ion . And what is the resul t ? That theimpression of the agony of the individual s brought beforeus is far stronger than i t cou ld otherwise have been, andour sympathie s are more forcibly awakened ; whi le hadthe contrast be en wanting, the impression of pain wouldhave come over into ourselves, and our selfish feel ingsinstead of our sympathy would have been awakene d,the conception of the grief Of others would have beendim inished
,and the tragedy would have made us very
uncomfortable,but never have melted us to tears or ex
cited uS to indignat ion. When he whose merry and sati rical laugh rang in our ears the moment before faints beforeus wi th ‘a plague 0
’ both your houses ! they have madeworms’ meat ofme ! ’ the acuteness of our feel ing is exc e ssive but had we not heard the laugh before, therewould have been a dul l weight ofmelancholy impressionwhich would have been painful, not affecting.
A s the Grec ian drama was a purely i nd igenous
product,i t shows us most c l early the moral , soc ial ,
po l i t i cal,and re l ig ious character of the t imes . I t
i s a m irror fai thfu l ly reflect i ng the nature of the
per iod,if not Nature herse lf. I n tragedy there
was the sp i r i t of worsh ip, i deal asp i rat ion , th e
embod iment of the nat ional cu l tus , and i t s root s
were intertw i ned w ith the nat ional l ife i t se lf. A S
the mytho logy became d isso lved i nto c louds and
m ists by the analys i s Of the ph i losopher, the t rav
e stie s of the comed ian,and the i nd ifference Of
ep i curean indu lgence and luxur ious sensual i ty,
130 THE GREEK COMED Y OF MANNERS .
the grand ideal representat ion pal l ed upon the
taste. The ser ious drama ceases to be p icturesque
,symbo l i ca l , pos i t ive i n i t s tone, and be
comes subj ect ive, ana lyt i ca l , and d idact i c The
styl e approximates to prose, and i s more l ike the
styl e of ord i nary l ife. Comedy, too, pas ses th rough
the same tran s i t i ons . When the gods are no lon
ger be l i eved in,they cease to be com ic mate r ial .
Broad car i catures give p lac e to n i cer del i neat ions
of character. The po l i t i cal drama,too
,loses i t s
edge when po l i t i cs are no longer the bu s i nes s of
the peopl e’
. With popu lar freedom,popu lar er i t i
c ism exp i res ; and as publ i c i nterest exp i res , the
i nterest cent res i n the i ntr i cacy of the plot and
the representat ion of charact er.
Of the thousands of plays wr i tt en by d ifferent
Greek authors of th i s s choo l , none rema in s ent i re .
The best representat ive was Menander of whom
are found fragments i n the cr i t i c i sms of gramma
r ians,i n co l l ect ions ofgnom ic say i ngs , and i n quo
tations by anc i ent heathen and Chri st i an wr i t ers .
No wr i ter atta i ned a greater c i rc l e of e nthu sias
t i c readers ; and accord i ng to the e s say ascr ibed to
Plutarch compar i ng A r i stophanes and Menander,no
dramat i st was SO frequent ly exh ib i t ed on the stage .
Plutarch cont rasts th e refined styl e Of Menander
w ith what he cal l s the bluster ing,mean
,Obscure
,
turgid , strutt i ng, prat t l i ng, and foo l i ng styl e of
A r i stophanes ,” whose personages
,he says,
“ do not
express themselves accord i ng to character,state l i
132 THE GREEK COMED Y OF MANNERS .
rath er than d ist i n ct ind iv idual it i es ; types , andnots eparate personal i t i es . In A r i stophanes
,even
,
who represents the O ld comedy, —abroad car i ca
ture of manners , soc ia l t endenc i es, po l i t i cs , and
contempo rary men and events,— there i s a l ready
to be perce ived aft er the parabas i s and cho ru s are
forb idden , an attempt to de l i neat e character. But
there'
was no room for any n i ce del i neat ion o r de l i
cate shad ing on h i s canvas,covered as i t was w ith
groups of mass ive fo rms . Eve ryth i ng was pictur
esque,imagi nat ive
,fantast i c
,an acted ser i es of
broadest car i catures,where i n the on ly l im i t was
that the ve ry extreme of th e lud i crous was reached ,and one cou ld laugh no more. Th i s end was at
tainedby d isso lv i ng al l i nto a un iversal j est . With
the general spread of ph i losoph i c thought,however
,
and the loss of i nt erest i n publ i c affa i rs (that werenow managed for the peopl e
,and were whol ly be
yond the i r own i nterference), the i nte l l igence and
soc ia l i nst in cts of the r i ch and cu lt ivated sou’
ght
occupat ion i n see i ng pr ivate l ife represented . Man
h imselfbecame i nt erest i ng to man. The stage h e
came a schoo l ofmanners and Of every-day i nt erest .
From the names g iven to some of the comed i es
ofMenander, we may see how cosmopo l i tan an e l e
ment had entered i nto A th en ian l ife ; how vast ly the
Sphere of exper i ence had w idened . One i s named“ The Ephes ian
,
” another “The Thessa l ian ,”an
other “ The Carthagin i an,another “ The Cor i n
th ian . The human el ement was extended ; on the
stage once trodden so l e ly by heroes and demigods
THE GRE EK COMEE Y OF MANNERS . 133
now appeared plays named The F i sherman ,” The
P i lots,
” “ The Husbandman,” “ The Sh ipmast er. ”
The grand ideal s of t ragedy were now out Of
p lace . What echo cou ld the austere fo rms Of s e lfsacrific e , the hero i c mode l s of pat r iot i sm and re l i
g ious fa i th find i n that ennuyed and ens laved
commun i ty, whose greatest orator was Demetr iu s
Phale re us, and whos e great est ph i losopher was Ep ieurus ? I nstead of the i ntense heat of nat iona l
pat r iot i sm and trad i t i onal be l i ef,there was a more
pervas ive sent iment of human i ty and interes t i n
man as an i nd iv idual be i ng. He appeared now,not
as the po l i t i c ian,the demagogue
,the genera l
,the
flattere r of the peopl e, the pub l i c poet, and the ph i
lOSOph e r, but i n the var ious forms that made up th e
pr ivate l ife of the commun i ty. Youthfu l lovers,
o ldm isers , boastfu l so ld i ers , paras i tes, flatterers,
women of pl easure, vi ct ims of fraud and supe rsti
t ion,dupers and the i r dupes
,enem i es and fr i ends
,
guard ians and wards,—al l these found vo i ce and
fi tt i ng form i n the comedy of Menander.
The th in and meretr i c ious comed i es of Terence
g ive on ly a part ial idea of th e s tyl e and contents
of the plays ofMenander. I n the Greek dramat i s t
love,honorab le and domest i c
,appears as a motif,
and i s w ide ly sundered from the loos e re lat i ons
that make the s taple of the Lat i n poet . The out
l i nes of th ree comed i es are given by the schol iasts,and these Show that the drama had taken up the
repres en tat ion of domest i c and home l ife among
th e peopl e .
134 THE GREEK COME D Y OF MANNERS .
One of these plays i s cal l ed The Plokion,or
Wreath . Here two marr iage s are contras ted,
the one i l l -sorted and turn ing out badly, i n wh i ch
the husband,t empted by a large dowry, had taken
to wife a woman deformed both i n body and m i nd ;the other a genu i ne love -match
,crowned at las t by
a happy un ion .
Another p lay, whose p lot i s out lined , i s ca l l edThe Treasure .
” I n th i s,a r i ch father l eaves h i s
property to h i s spendthr ift son on cond i t i on that
at the end of ten years funeral honors shou ld be
paid to h imse lf at a tomb al ready erected i n one of
h i s posses s i ons . The son spends lav i sh ly h i s prop
e rty, and even d i sposes of the fi e ld i n wh ich was
the tomb,reserv i ng to h imse lf
,however
,the r ight
to v i s i t i t and pe rform h i s dut i es accord i ng to th e
terms of the wi l l . When the tenth ann iversarycomes round
,the son
,accompan i ed by the pu r
chaser,goes to the tomb
,wh ich i s now for th e
fi rst t ime opened . There i n a casket i s found con
tai n i ng a large treasure,from wh ich the play takes
i ts name. The purchase r c laims i t as be i ng a
depos i t wh ich he h imse lf had made,to h ide i t
from th ieves and maraud i ng so ld i ers . The matter
i s brought before the courts,where the cause i s
t r i ed ; and on Open i ng the casket a l et ter of the
deceased to h i s son i s found, and dec i s i on i s given
accord i ngly. I n th i s letter the father ass igns as
h i s reason for maki ng such an arrangement,that
the son ’ s fi l i a l regard wou ld be tested,and re
warded or pun i shed accord ing as he compl i ed
136 THE GREEK COMEE Y OF MANN ERS .
cond i t ion of soc i ety, separated woman from the
general atmosphere of thought and soc ial i n sp i ra
t ion . I n her sec lus ion she became weak,petty i n
her pursu i t s,often rebel l i ous under her chai ns
,
exact i ng i n her c laims,and jealous of the authori ty
vouchsafed by custom and the law. Her cond i t ion
showed,i n fact
,how fatal i t i s to perpetuate cer
tai n external forms of l iv i ng after the cond i t i on s
wh i ch gave r i se to them have changed . I n the
Homer i c t imes woman was the honored equal of
man,because she was the real bond of the fam i ly
l ife,super i ntend ing i t s labors wh i l e the warr i or
fought ; and al l her Sphere was wi th i n the home.
But i n the compl ex l ife of the grow ing c i ty, to
l im i t her to the one corner of the house was to
make her a s lave, — caus i ng her to descend i nthe scal e of i ntel l igence, wh i le the husband was
ascend ing. Th i s fal se pos i t i on of woman ex
p lai ns much Of the moral and soc ial degradat ion
of th e weal thy c i t i es Of Greece. The women who
cou ld be compan ions for educated men were not
those who had been brought up i n th i s sec lus ion
of the women’ s apartments , but were those who had
been ab le to acqu i re some i nstruct ion,and by the i r
freedom had shared i n the c iv i l i z i ng and refin i ng
e l ements of the t ime. By the superst i t i ou s adhe
rence to Old fam i ly i n st i tut ions the very l ife Of
the fam i ly was underm i ned ; and that pos i t i on
wh i ch an advanc ing c iv i l i zat i on requ i red the w ife
and mother to take,was occup ied by the cu l t ivated
and attract ive courtesan.
THE GREEK COMED Y OF MANNERS . 137
The comedy of the t ime der ives many of its
s i tuat ions and many of i t s t ra i ts of character from
th i s anomalous cond i t i on of fam i ly l ife. The
woman does not take k i nd ly to her nun-l ike se c lu
s ion when there i s so much go i ng on that Sh ewou ld l ike to see and take a part i n ; and the man
can s ee on ly one remedy,— wh ich i s, to pu t morebo l t s on the door, more bars on the w i ndow,
and
mo re sp i es al l arou nd .
Susp i c i on , j ealou sy, cunn ing, and i ntr igu e were
chron i c soc ial s tates . One of the marri ed women
i n Menander says :“A sen s ib l e man ought not to
impr i son h i s w ife i n the back part of h i s hou se,for
then Sh e get s to be very cu r iou s about what i s goi ng on outs ide. If he w i l l on ly l et her go abou t
free ly, see and hear what she p leases, her cu r i
osity i s sat i sfied, and she i s kept from evi l de
s i res . Do not men des i re more eagerly what theyare forb idden to get ? He who th i nks to keep h i s
w ife under lock and key i s ve ry much m i staken ,and i s noth i ng but an id iot . When our heart s are
ou ts ide,we can get there straight as an arrow
or a b i rd fl i e s ; we can dece ive the hundred eyes
of A rgu s h imself. What then ? W hy, you are
laughed at for your pa i ns . Thus Speaks human
nature i n the fourth centu ry B . C . So i t spoke i n
Mol iere, when he says,
Bolts andbars cannot make wive s anddaugh te rs virtuous .
A nothe r character d i scu sses the advantages and
d i sadvantages of marryi ng ; what r ights a dowry
138 THE GRE EK COMED Y OF MANNERS .
bri ngs w ith i t ; what a plagu e i t i s t o have a r i ch
woman foraw ife , —one poor sufferer say i ng : You
w i l l not marry, if you are wi se . I ’m a marr i ed
man,and that i s why I say to you , You
are go i ng to sa i l on a sea of t roub le : i t i s not the
Afr i can Sea,nor the IEg ean Sea, nor the Medite r
ramean Sea,where at l east three vesse l s are saved
out of th i rty ; but i t’ s a sea where not a s i ngl e
sh ip floatS, - not one.
Love i n th i s comedy i s of the same stamp with
that wh ich plays such an important part i n the
corrupt t ime ofCharl es I I . and the modern sensa
tional French drama. I t i s the product of a Soc ia l
state corrupt to the core. Yet there are some few
plays where a young man Sees a young gi r l of
whom he becomes ardent ly enamoured . She i s
poor,however
,or i n some cond i t i on of l ife that
forms a bar to marr iage . There i s the u sual oppo
sition,plots and counter-plots
,hope and despai r
,
unt i l i n the de’not ent the worthy young woman
tu rns out to be of some r ich or nobl e fam i ly, and to
have been carr i ed away i n i nfancy, etc. ; and thu s
al l goes to the tune that has s i nce been played
so Often . Some of the sent iment s have a tru lymodern ai r
,and
,separated from the i r framework of
c i rcumstance,might be expressed i n some comedy
Of manners i n the England or even the Ameri ca
of to-day. A young man whose mother wi shes to
h inder h im from marry i ng be low what i s consid
ered h i s rank,says to her :
“A lways th i s nob i l i ty !
Don ’ t,mother
,be forever sett i ng up nob i l i ty Of
140 THE GRE EK CON/ED Y OF MANNERS .
human tendern ess,th i s express ion of sent iments
belongi ng to the common lot of human i ty, that
gave Menander h i s hold upon h i s contempo rar i es ,and has embalmed some of h i s sayings i n the wr i t
i ngs of succeed ing generat ions . I n trans lat ion the i r
aroma escapes . Here are a few of them :
A slave , in fine , i s made ofas goodfl e sh as we are .
NO noble man can be ignobly born .
A man is aman even in S lave ry.
”
Teach youth , for men you’ll findunteachable
Th ink all th e sorrows ofyour friends your own.
Th e conscience is th e godwithin us all .”
Who love s h imse lf too much is lovedby none .
!
To live i s not to live for one s e lf alone .
”
Evident ly the human had found an i nterpreter.The loud cry of c i ty agai nst c i ty had been hushed,and that common sent iment was form ing wh ich
wou ld recogn i ze the master-word,He has made
of one bl ood al l nat i ons,” as the ral lyi ng cry of al l
nobl e sou l s . There i s al so the recurr i ng stra i n,
so frequent i n Horace, of the fleet i ng nature of al l
earth ly happi ness , the i l l s Ofmortal l ife, the impar
t ial omn ipresence of the great l eve l l er death . A
Shadow had passed over the c l ear sky and spark l i ng
seas OfGreece.
Ifyou wouldknow yourse lf andwhat you are ,Go to th e tombs ofth e illustrious dead:The re lie th e bone s ofking s in common dustThe re are th e rich , th e noble , andth e wise ;Th e re beauty and renown, one lotto all .
Reflec t, whoe’er thou art, andknow thyse lf.
THE GREEK COMED Y OF III ANNERS . 14 1
The refra i n al so come SLHappy he who d i es when
young, before Old age and chang ing fortune have
la id upon h im the i r heavy hand .
For what is life , th e long e st l ife ofman,But th e Same s cene repeatedo
’er ando
’e r?
A few more linge ring days to be consumed
In throng s and crowds , with sharpe rs , knaves , andth ie ve s .
Better be a dog, a horse, an ass , than be a man
and see unworthy men lord i t over pat i ent mer i t .
Agai n : “You are a man , and as man you are to
expect to be thrown from the h ighest prosper i tyto the lowest advers i ty. Bear up
,then
,as a man
,
for as yet you have suffered no extraord i narycalam i ty.
”
A s show ing that there were some sources of
conso l at ion even i n that dark hour,we hear these
words,aston i sh i ng i ndeed as spoken on that stage
as part of the acted l ife of that t ime :
Godis e ve rywhe re pre sent, andse e s all .
Without God, no man can be happy .
”
Ifyou pe rform agoodact, be ofgoodhope , knowing we llth is ,—that God i s aShare r in eve ry goodunde rtak ing .
”
Godis notdeaf to th e just man’s praye r.”
I t i s God,and not gods
,i n the verse of the poet .
Wel l may we suppose that the Apost l e quoted from
Menander when he sa id : A s one ofyou r own poets
has sa id,‘We are H i s Offspr i ng.
’
No wonder that one has sa id that if he cou ld res
cu e any one anc i ent author from obl iv ion,i t wou ld
be Menander. ! u i nt i l i an says ofMenander :1
1 Insti tutes , book x . chap. i . 169 .
142 THE GREEK COMED Y OF MANNERS .
Menander admi red Euripides greatly, and even imi
tatedh im,though in a different department ofthe drama
andMenander alone, in my judgment, would, ifsufficientlyread, suffice to generate al l those qualities in the student
of oratory for which I am an advocate,—SO exactly doe she represent all the phases of human life
,such is his
fertil ity of invention and easy grace of express ion,and
so readily does he adapt himself to al l circumstances,persons, and fe elings .
Agai n
For speakers,it is ne cessary to assume various char
acters,— those of fathers, sons, soldie rs, peasants, richmen and poor men
,angry persons and beseeching p er
sons, those who are m ildand those who are rough. Now,in all these characters Menander Observes a wonderfulappropriateness, SO that he has left all other dramat ists ofthat kind scarcely a name, the splendor of his reputat ionthrowing them entirely into the shade .
” 1
There can be no more i nterest i ng study than
that of the r i se and progress of the Grec ian drama,
from i ts fi rst rude beg i nn i ngs i n the re l ig ious
choru s ce l ebrat i ng the explo i ts of the creat ive,
nouri sh i ng,and i nsp i r i ng power i n Natu re and
l ife,through the var iou s phases of i t s development
,
express i ng the i nte l l ectual, Soc ial , and pol i t i cal
changes , —a tru ly nat ional drama. From i t can
be ga i ned a concrete and l ife - l ike presentat i on of
the progress and dec l i ne of Grec ian fai th,Grec ian
freedom , and Grec ian manners . Throughout,we
1 Institute s, book x. chap . i . 7 1 .
PLATO ’S REPUBLIC .
THE student of Grecian history finds i n it a won
de rful l ikenes s i n min iature of his own times , the
same stirring interests , the same mental , moral , and
social problems , that now occupy the attention of
th inkers,and lovers of truth . Our age has no mo
nopo ly of social dreams and Utopian common
wealths ; fo r Greece had them before Plato’s time ,
i n the philosophi c community which Pythagoras
sought to establish in Magna Grazc ia; and widelysp read must have been the dreams and tendencies
which A ristophanes satirized in h is in imitable verse .No popular caricaturist would take the pains to raise
a laugh against woman ’s p articipation in affairs Ofgovernment and society , if such an attempt were
the dream only Of some one speculative ph ilosopher , and had no general vogue . Plato ’s philo
soph ic scheme stand s out now as a soli tary peak,but i t mu s t have been one of a mountain range .
Among those small Grecian States there were in
deed the seeth ing elements of every form of gov
e rnme nt, from the unb r idled tyranny of the despot
to the unlicen sed despotism of the wi ldest de
mo cracy ,pass ing through all grades of modified
PLA TO’
S REPUBL I C. 145
aris tocracies of every shade and tint of exclus ive
ness and worth .
The philo sophers of Greece were essentially un
democratic , and excited the fears of the ignorant
many ,—as ifphilosophy were nece s sari ly some ho s
ti le element . Thi s led to the expu ls ion of Pythago ras and to the death of Socrates . The beari ng
of Plato towards the indu st r iou s crowd,the men of
industry and toil , was one of aversion and contempt .I n his view, the phi losopher could be neither a
man in publ ic l ife nor a man of affairs ; above all ,he must not be engaged in busi ness
,trade
, o r me
chanical o r agri cultural employments . A ll this was
regarded by Plato as unworthy a man who se sp e cu
lations mu st be on the highest themes , and h is robes
free from the d irt ofearthly concerns .Towards democratic A thens Plato felt no attrae
t ion ; towards aristocrati c Sparta he was s tronglydrawn . The Spartan institutions had existed fo r hun
dreds of years ; and i n thei r grave s implic ity ,their
austere temperance , their indifference to pleasure and
comfort, they came the nearest to the ph ilosophi c ,
ideal . I t i s on tho se l ines of Spartan exclu s iveness,
and the crushing out of every trace of A thenian
democracy , that Plato has const ructed h is ideal
commonwealth , the Spartan ins titution s being the
rough niode l of tho se i n the Republ ic . These in
stitutions were ascribed to Lycu rgus , but they were
really founded in a great antiqu ity ,and no more
belonged to Lycurgu s as exclusive author than the
Hebrew code to Moses But in making artificial
146 PLATO’
S REPUBLI C.
commonwealths this fact was fo rgotten ; and ap
pare ntly Plato thought it as easy to construct a
commonweal th as to bui ld a house . Thus have
thought Utopian theo r is ts of a later time
But in treating ofGreek hi story , i t is well to bear .
in m ind that
“ Few dist inct ions are so important for a t rue understanding ofhistory, as that be tween l iberty in the classicand in the mode rn sense of the word . An Eng lishman,when h e desire s l ibe rty, thinks of it as the desire of individual development
,the soi l on which strongly marked
character flourishe s most vigorously. It is doubtfulwhether a Greek would have understood what thismeans
,and sti l l more whether he would have thought
i t desirable . Indeed, we may say that the Greek loveof l iberty embodied the ve ry opposite feeling to this .There never could have been a city less free than Sparta,according to our ideas ; and evidently in making i t th emodel of his Re publ ic , Plato was not contemplating as apo ssibility the reproach that he was a fo e to liberty. Heand his contemporarie s meant by liberty something whichwas compatible with any amount of despotic regulationof individual life . Th e ideal re publ ic of l iberty-lovingGree ce would have be en a despotism more intolerableto modern feeling than the most despot ic kingdom of
modern Europe .
” 1
Yet to -day the se despotic features recu r in manymode rn plan s to rescu e society from its evils , and
produce an ideal state ofwell-being. The subje ction of a workman to h is fraternity , or Union
,is
1 The Moral Ideal . By Jul iaW edgwood. P. 104 .
148 PLA TO’S REPUBLI C.
an ideal one , constru cted upon man’s supposed e s
se ntial nature , and gove rned accord ing to the high
est principle s ofabstract , ph ilo sophic reason . Plato
sees clearly the vital connecti on which should exi s t
between all the d ifferent members ofa community ;and he makes th is general sensi tivenes s the test o f
a well- regulated State . He uses precisely the
same express ion that has been made use of by
Shakspeare , a fing e r-ache being felt throughout
the whole body .
“ In a well-regulated State ,” he
says ,“ just as in the individual man , when the finger
i s wounded , the sensation extend s throughout the
whole ; and by reason of the common principle of
l ife o r soul , such a State wi ll feel that she herse lf is
the one hurt , and will mourn with the inj ured mem
h e r.
” This feel ing of unity must be preserved bytaking away the occas i ons for j ealou sy , rivalry, and
envy. The mother will not scheme for her darl ing ,fo r as there is no i nd ividual hou sehold she does
not know which child i s her darl ing . The guardian
sold ier will not become a tyrant, because , alreadysupported at the public charge , he has fro tempta
t ion to po s sess himself of the person or goods of
citi zens .Plato
’
s commonwealth i s meant to be a true
ari s tocracy ,—that is , a government by the wises t
and the best . These will always be the minori ty ,
the precious remnant ,”ofwhich Matthew A rnold
spoke . As man is threefold in hi s spi ritual con
stitution, so will the State be based on this three
fold divis ion ofreason , energy(o r will) , and appetite
PLA TO'
S RE PUBLI C. 149
(o r desire) . Reason is seated i n the brain , energyi n the breast , and appetite in the abdomen . At the
bas i s ofthe State are the laborers , the cultivators of
the so il , the tradesmen , that i s , all of the indus
t r ia l c lass . Then come the sold iers , the m ilitaryC las s ; and then the governors and teachers , o r
Official class . Through the energy Ofwill,thought
ru les over and d irects the lower appetites ; and so
the highest grade in Plato ’s commonwealth,the
philosophers , rule over and direct the masses of
the laborers and artisans through the middle class ,the as s i stant guardians or military auxiliaries . This
second grade consists Of the exclusive defenders
and protectors Of the ci ty , and they are absolutelyfree from all the cares and labors of ordinary l ife .The abdomen does not perform the work of the
heart, nor the heart that of the brain . The highest
class can engage neither in labor nor in trade : the
philosopher must devote himself to thinking , the
soldier to fighting , and the laborer to working .
The divid ing l ine between the castes can never be
passed over, as the perfection of the whole consis ts
in each one performing perfectly his own part . The
rulers are to have wi sdom ; the sold iers fortitude ,o r courage ; and the workmen temperance , or
obedience .
But how is the State necessary ?
The State has i ts foundation i n human wants , and
no man is sufficient fo r h imself. From this fact ,that no one is self-suflic ing , springs the necess ity of
those .who live in one place forming on'
e c ommu
150 PLA TO’
S REPUBLI C.
nity , where in each person imparts to others what he
has , and receives from othe rs what he wants . The
most press ing want i s food ; then lodging , cloth ing,etc . One man becomes a hu sbandman
,another a
bu ilder, another a weaver, another a shoemaker,each one having a natural fitness for some one
kind of work , s in ce each is born unl ike to any
other .
The Republ i c has nothing to say about themorals , the education , or the condition of the great
body of the wo rkers . They are , for the most part,slaves o r aliens , —people born to eat, S leep , i ndulgetheir variou s appetites , and work for the support of
the chosen few warriors and philo sophers, who will
make for them all necessary arrangements and pro
vide for their happ ines s better than they can provide
for themselves . The education of the guard ians
i s to be such as will make them what Carlyle
was always clamoring for,—the natural leadersand the wise helpe rs i n the common life Of the
Platoni c city . This care for the philo soph ic and
military guardians was to begin befo re birth ; for
only fitti ng mate s were to be arranged, with al l care
on the part of the governing body for the health
and character of the Offspring . NO permanent l ife
partnership s were to be made , but the g overn ing
body was to arrange with consummate wisdom all
uni ons ofmen and women under a certain age , giv
ing to the parties a seeming choice by lot. Eve ryelement of individual love and personal affecti on on
the part ofthese State guardians was to be el imi nated .
1 52 PLA TO’
S REPUBLI C.
go through a course of labors , trials , and contests ,while ye t young being subj ected to various ter
rible tests , and then thrown back into pleasu res ;tried more than gold i n the fire , that he may show
whether he is in j u s t rhythm and harmony .
”And
he who had been thus tried , and come out pu re ,was to be appointed gove rnor and guardian of the
State ; honors were to be paid him whi le he lived ,and at his death he should receive the highest
reward of publ ic burial . ”
A ll men were breth ren , i t was to be taught, andfrom one common mother, the earth . But those
who were able to be governors , the real ph iloso
ph e rs ,—had gold mixed i n the material of which
they were made ; tho se who were able to be aids and
helpers had S i lver ; and the husbandmen and arti
sans had iron and bras s . Plato cites an oracle , which
said that whenever iron o r b ras s should come to be
guardian s the c ity would perish ; and hence those
children who had no s i lver o r gold i n their make-upwere to be thrust down among the iron or brass to
which they real ly belonged . Over nothing were the
gua rdians to keep clo ser watch ; and if any chi ld
of the peop le should show unmis takably the vein of
gold,he was to be taken under the care ofthe guar
d ians,and receive the same training as if he were
born oftheir number .What arrangements were made in Plato ’s scheme
to develop th is golden germ in any child ? I t does
not appear ; and we may say , that if many such
ch ildren we re to spring from the iron and the brass
PLA TO’
S REPUBLI C. I 53
parentage of the common herd , his whole sys
tem of exclu s ive education would prove a useless
null ity .
Plato claims , however , that i n h is commonwealth
every human being would find h is level , and everyo ne settle in that place fo r which the qual ities Ofh is
natu re had fi tted him . Yet the same chance was
not given to al l , and i t must be aga inst vas t odds
that any sh ining nugget would crop out SO as to
be seen and transferred to the j eweller’s manipu lat
i ng skill .
How completely Plato derived from the institu
t ion s Of Sparta the practical regulati ons for the
educatio n and daily l ife of his guardian class , to
whom all government and all mil itary powers were
i ntru sted , may be seen from a sl ight con s ideration Of
Spartan customs . (I ) In Sparta the ci tizens wereobliged to eat at the common tables , l ivi ng upon the
simplest fare . (2 ) Plutarch says that Lycu rguss trove to drive away from the Spartan men the vain
and womanish passion of j ealou sy , making it qu ite
reputable to have children in common with person s
Ofmeri t ; for he considered children not s o much the
property of thei r parents as of the State . (3) TheSpartan father could not rear what chi ldren he
pleased , but he must carry the ch ild to a publ i c place
to be examined ; and if i t was weakly and deformed
it was thrown into a deep cavern call ed apoth e tae ;
so were weak and deformed child ren exposed in
Plato ’s Republ i c . (4) When the Spartan childrenwere seven years o ld, they were enrolled in compa
154 PLA TO’
S REPUBLI C.
ni es,andall kept under the same instruction and d is
c ipline . (5) Sparta was s imply a great camp , —asthe home of Plato ’ s guard ian s was but a mil itarybarrack , without any of the adornments or con
ve nie nc e s of ordinary exis tence . (6) The Spa rtan was forbidden to engage i n any bus ines s or
t rade, o r exercise any vocation by which wealth
could be gained ; his business was to devote him
self to the honor, safety , and glory of his country .
(7) The training of the Spartan girls was like that
of the boys i n athleti c exercises , with like conte sts
in wrestl ing and running, clothed only with a l ight
tuni c , open at the skirts ; they formed a part Of
the religious and pat r io tic process ion s , and at the
public festivals sang and danced . So in Plato ’s Republi c ; the men and women of the guardian class
l ived together , drilled together, — from the earl iest
years being under the same superintendence , and
having the same education .
I t was a doctrine with Plato , s trange fo r that age,that whatever man could do , woman could do also ;and that the training which was bes t for man was
bes t also for woman . There was no reason in the
nature of things , he says , why the woman should be
re s tr i cted to indoor occupations ; and from the mere
difference of sex no argument could be d rawn
as to fi tnes s or unfitne ss fo r different occupation s .O nly as they were properly trained could men
perform fitting ly the Offi ce of guardian s ; and on
the same term s women also could be equally well
fi tted .
156 PLA TO’S REPUBL IC.
and now drinking only water ; at one time pract is ing
gymnastics , at o ther times lazy and idle ; at one
period playing the politic ian , at another imitating
some sold ier o r merchant his l ife regulated by no
p lan or law, a truly democratic character. A de
mo c racy , i n fine , i s a lawle s s and motley affair,giving equal ri ghts to unequal p erson s .
”
In such a State a s this , how can philo sophy be
cu ltivated , and how can the philosopher b e formed ?
Some well-disposed youth may try to emerge from
the co r rupting tendencies , but being one onlyagain s t the ho s t ofwild beas ts , he must at last su c
c umb and peri sh , without any profi t to the world .
Like a man sheltered from a storm ofwind anddu s t
u nder some wall , th is man will attend to h is own
affai rs , content to pass his l ife pure from inj ustice
and corruption , and make at las t a chee rful and
qu iet exit Andwhy mu s t h is l ife be this fai lu re ?
Because , says Plato ,“ he has had no su itable
form ofgovernment to l ive under . This i s what
I complain of,” he says again ,
“ that no existing
constitution of a State i s worthy of a philosophic
nature.” And so he wil l constru ct one,wherein
philo sophy shall have its rights , and the ph ilo so
ph e rs Shall rule. Occupied with what is real and
ete rnal , beautiful and in harmony with reason , theywil l im itate what they admire , and wil l pu t upon the
canvas the divine pattern wh ich they behold . And
unti l su ch as these have the government of the
State , he affirms , the mise r ies ofStates will not havean end .
PLA TO’S REPUB LI C. 157
Plato imagined he had cons tructed a State in
which i nd ividual tas tes and tendencies , personal
predilection s and sen sual temptations , would be utte rly extingu ished . These guardian s are not men
and women , but ph ilo soph ic mach ines moved by
wi re s beyond thei r control . Their breathing can
have no irregular movement , their pulse no qu ick
e ning , and their cheeks no mantl ing blush . Theya re as dead to human interests as the med iaeval
monk , or the begging friar Of the Catho li c Church .
They have no personal interests , but are offi cial in
strume nts . They have no occasion to exercise vi r
tuo us asp iration s or pu t forth individual efforts , o r
be moved by p ity or fear . B etter the anarchy even
ofi nd ividual hopes and aspirations than th is frozen
surface ofsocial monotony !
But however impracti cable Plato ’s social isti c
dream may appear, let i t always be remembered
that he was planning for no mere vulgar enj oyment ,aspiring for no sensual delight, clutching no pass ing
satisfactions of time and sense . He sought, after
all,for a city which should have eternal foundations
i n the human soul , and whose bu ilder should be
God . His high intent Shines out i n the clos ing
paragraph of his book
“ If the company will be persuaded by me, regardingthe soul as immortal and able to bear all evil and good,we Shall always persevere in the road which leads upwardand above al l else shal l follow after justice united with
wisdom,that thus we may be friends to th e gods as wel l
as to ourselves,both whi le we remain in this state of be
158 PLA TO’
S REPUBLI C.
ing,andwhen, afterwards, l ike victors assembled togethe r
we re ceive its rewards . And so, both he re and in thatjourney of a thousand years, we Shall be happy.
”
Plato,then, sought to give the model of an ideal
commonwealth which Should be the perfect em
bodiment,in the larges t capital letters ,(I ) ofJustic e ,
o r R i ghteou sness ; (2) a commonwealth i n whichevery sou l should find its own proper place ; (3) i nwhich woman should take her place on an equalitywi th man ; and (4) in which the Best ,—th e lovers ofwisdom
,the subj ects of reason, the disinte re sted
followers of truth , —should be the acknowledgedrulers .Plato ’s end s were lofty , and h is dreams were noble ;
ye t the edifice which he bui lded seem s now but a
so r ry make-Shift. becau se no individual plan can ever
sati sfy the demands of the un iversal sp iri t ; becau se
the bu ilding which it is erecting is of such immense
p roportions and such indescribable grandeur. The
ideals which in sp i re the minds of th i s present hou r
are as grand as Plato ever mu sed upon ; but his
actual plans , suggested by the in sti tu tion s and social
manifes tation s of h i s day , are but a ch ild’s hou se of
cards compared with the mighty cathedral of which
the spiri t Of humanity is lay ing stone upon s tone
before o ur very eyes . Plato wou ld have his ideal
commonwealth a unit, SO that the need of the re
mote st extremity shou ld be at once felt and re
sponded to by the wi ses t and the-best ; and does
space make any Obstacle to-day to the transmission
of any sound from the remotest quarters ofAfrica,
ARISTOTLE’S “ POLITICS .
ARISTOTLE’
S Poli tics , Prof. R. T . Ely , the e conomist, has recently called one of the most remark
able books in the world ’s h istory . I n some
respects ,” he says , the most advanced pol iti cal
economy i s a return to A ris totle .
”A brief su rvey
of th is great work i s , then , i n order i n th is day Of
social problems .”
D iffering widely from Plato’s poetical dream , the
Pol itics ”may be con s idered the fi rst great effort
in the scientific study of society and ofthe elements
of social well-being . Plato sto od in an attitude of
antagonism to the Grecian methods of l ife and gov
e rnme nt. He attacked the poetry , the education ,and the polit ical notions of his time . His id eal
State was based upon man’
s supposed nature and
the constitution ofthe sou l as reason , will , and appc
tite . I t was a true Utopia, for the re was no place in
al l the world where i t could be actually embodied ;but the Republ ic ” presented an inspi r ing ideal of
order , j ustice , and righteou sness in human affai rs .
A ristotl e’
s ideal is no less elevated , but h is method
i s entirely d ifferent . Like Plato , he desi res to p ro
mote the highest g ood Ofthe ind ividual in the State ;
ARIS TOTLE’
S “ POLI TICS.
”16 1
but he follows no d priori plan . He sets up no
ideal as a necessary and universal pattern , but tries
to find a reason in the natu re Ofman and the facts
ofexperience fo r Greek institu tions . For the manychanges that had occurred in the pol iti cal forms of
the Grecian States around h im he likewise seeks a
law. He appl ies to th e best of h is abi li ty the prin
c iple s of common-sense . He asks : What is the
specific end of the concrete thing we cal l the State ?What is the actual nature of the organization which
we cal l poli tical What is needed that th is organi
zation may most effectual ly accomplish its end ?
A ristotle saw everywhere a process of growth .
The very lowest form contained , potential ly , th e
h ighest and best . Practically , A ristotle followed
the method of evoluti on . If one wishes to knowthe end for which anyth ing exists , he must studythe concrete th ing itself. States , commonwealths ,communities , do not have an abstract existence in
the clouds ,— they are real ities of th is earth . Es
tablish ed by human beings , they contain in posse
a final , highest, and most perfect organization . To
A ristotle , the work of pol iti cal science consisted in
study ing each pol itical phenomenon as an unfo ld
ing of the principle o f l ife , a manifestation ofwhat
Nature was after, a step in the ascending series to
the perfect and best .Yet su ch a commonwealth as the United States of
America would have Violated al l A ristotle’ s
‘
canons
of the essential pol ity of the best State . The vastextent of territory ; the many races of men making
1 1
162 ARISTOTLE’
S POLI TI CS .
!
up the body of citizens ; the confl i cting interests of
the widely d ivided sections ; the prevalence ofOppo
site vi ews of cu ltu re , rel igion , economics , domes t i c
habits,and modes of l ife , all these features would
seem to him contrad ictory to eve ry principle Of a
well—ordered civi l polity ,fatal to permanence , and
utterly incapabl e of promoting the ends which a
State ought to have in view as the very obj ect of
i ts exis tence ; namely,the vi rtue , the happiness , the
moral and intellectual development of all i ts c iti
zens . The Greek State was everyth ing , i n fact, to
the i nd ividual citizen . It supervised h i s household
affairs , his educati on , his religion , and the thousand
detai ls Ofhis daily l ife . Its obj ect was to cultivate
virtue,and it ass igned to each C itizen his work.
What we leave to public Op inion the Greek made the
subj ect oflaw. I n A ristotle ’s view, the statesman is
the vital , Spi r itual power in the commonwealth ; the
State itself is -the nurse of science and the school
of philosophy, - in i tself the o ne sufficient mean s
for attaining a good life . The good , the perfectlyrounded life is the very end for which the State
exis ts .
What , then , i s Aris totle’
s defin ition of a State ?It i s a whole , fo rmed of pa rts which share in a com
mon feeling , inte res t , and acti on ; and this whole
has been constituted fo r the attainment of a com
p le te and fully developed l ife for al l . This c onc e ption is in accordance with the o rdinary Greek view ,
albei t nobler and more comp rehen s ive . The Greek
citizen was'
essentially a part Of the city-State in
164 ARIS TOTLE’
S POLI TI CS .
”
ual man is not complete i n himself, and he h earsthe same relation to the State that the individual
o rgans bear to the entire human body . Not to need
the State as a complement to one ’s limited self i s to
be ei ther a mons ter o ra god . Man perfected by so
c ie ty is the most excellent of al l l iving beings ; but
given up to selfish appetite , he is the worst . There
fore , as in determining the true nature of any o ther
species we take the mo s t perfect Specimen in i ts
h ighest state of development, so we should take
man in his highest conditi on of social development,unfold ing fully his nobles t powers and h is mo s t
humane characteristi cs .
How different is the theory of Rousseau , which
stimulated the imagination and fired the heart ofthe
civi l ized world i n those days ofrevolutionary fervor
and ph ilOSOph ic zeal , when civi l ization was repre
s ented as the curse of human soc iety , and a re
turn to natural condition s was considered the onlyway to make progress i n virtue ! How different i s
the Leviathan ”ofHobbes , the monster from whom
society had i ts first spring and its primal origi n ,fear, that aro se from mutual hate and internecine
war ! I n A ristotle ’
s philosoph ic view, the State is
th e natural outgrowth of human qual ities and te n
dencie s ; and i t i s as congenial to the nature ofmanto l ive i n society as it is fo r the plant to send its
rootlets down into the soi l , its stem up into the air,and to scatter its seed on the wind . The families
of men uniting in a social union obey a divine instinct, even as the trees of the forest do when their
ARIS I OTLE’
S POLI TI CS .
!
165
seed is planted in congenial so il , o r the honey-bees
when they construct thei r cel ls . How different is
the theory of an o r iginal compact which Locke
enunciates as the origin of government ! “ The o ri
g inal compact , which begins and actually cons ti
tute s any political so ciety, he says ,“ is noth ing but
the consent of any number of freemen capable of
a maj ority to unite and to incorporate i nto Such
a society ; and this is that , and that only , which
could give beginning to any l awful government i n
the wo rld .
” Thi s theory served its pu rpo se against
the theory ofthe o r iginal and divine right ofkings ;but for real phi losophical comprehension of the
o rigin of government , A ristotle’s view is infinitely
superior : As we make use of our bodily members
before we understand the end and purpose of th is
exercise , so it i s by nature itself that we are bound
together and associated in pol it ical society .
”
Hence the State grows up naturally , man beingby his very nature a pol itical animal . A S Homer
says , He that hath no tribe , o r state , or home , i s
as sol itary as a bird ofprey .
” Man i s the only ani
mal that has reason , and so has language , which is
not merely an exp ress ion of pleasure and pain , but
of the just and the unjust. The impulse toward as
sociati on is thus u niversal and natural . By carry ing
out th is impulse i n the formatio n Ofthe State , man
becomes the most excellent ofl iving beings i nstead
of the most helpless and the worst . He embodies i n
the State j ustice , which is the rul e ofsocial order.
The family, according to A ristotle, is the un i t of
166 ARISTOTLE’S POLITI CS .
”
so cial l ife ; and in i t man has three relati ons , hus
band, father , and mas ter . He re the ph ilo sopher
runs counter to our modern ideas ofthe inju sti ce of
S lavery . He discu s ses the matter, indeed ; for even
i n h is day some had maintained that Slavery was
unj u s t . But A ristotle maintains that they are s laves
by nature who have strength ofbody without abilityto take care ofthemselve s ; and that to them a mas
ter i s a benefit, and not only to them , but to the
community also . But the master should be as we ll
fi tted for ru ling as the slave for obey ing ; then both
wil l be profited . No Greek, again , should be e n
slaved , even if taken captive in war. This Opinion
was contrary to the universal custom of the age ;for the enti re populati on Of Hellen ic cities , when
conquered , was often reduced to slavery . A ristotle
further maintains that whenever a s lave plainlyshows him self qualified for freedom , he should be
set free . Had the Stagirite l ived a few generati ons
later, he would have seen thou sands of hi s Greek
countrymen—among them men of cu lture and of
high intelligence , scholars and philosophers held
as slaves i n the households of the rude Romans ,who doubtless thought that they were doing a ser
vice to the commonwealth , as well as to themselves ,by keeping the effeminate Greeks closely subj ected
to thei r own stronger will and convenience . The
doctrine that outside rs and barbarians can justly be
enslaved wou ld perhaps have assumed a d ifferent
aspect to A ri stotle , had he known that the barbarian
would put his own interpretatio n upon the principle
that might is the law of right .
168 ARIS TOTLE’S “ POLI TI CS .
”
government,the character of the ci tizens , the fea
tures o f the territory , the different ways ofgetting
wealth ; and he con s i ders the adaptation ofproposed
changes to the c ircumstances of the people . Plato
had sought to establ ish an ideal commonwealth ,which by its very con struction Should be a model
State , where in al l the variable elements of h u
man nature Should be constrained to harmonious
adjustment. A ris totle shows what elements are
necessary to make the State what i t should be to
accompli sh its natural results. He is fully aware
that the best State will be a rare th ing in the
world’s his tory ; and SO he occup ies himself often
with practical suggestions on the refo rm of abu ses ,the remedies for evils , and the beneficial changes
that may be made i n actual forms ofgovernment.The citizens ofAristotle ’s best State are those
only who have unde rgone a special training , who
have ample leisure for gymnas tics , for practice in
arm s , and fo r the pursuit of phil osophy and noble
learning. But al l those who wo rk for pay i n anyindustrial pursu it are excluded from the right to
rule or to c h o ose their rulers . In the democrati c
States of Greece the laborers and artisans were
ranked as citizens , and they enj oyed equal ri ghts as
vote rs with the nobles t and the riches t . But inSparta and some other State s
,where u seful and
necessary work was pe rformed by s laves , the in
dustrial l ife vi rtual ly excluded one from all l iberal
pu rsu its , such as those Ofthe sold ier , the statesman ,and the philosopher . Even agricu lture lay under
ARIS TOTLE’S POLI TI CS .
!
169
the ban ofcondemnation , as i t allowed only talk of
crops and bullock s . The tradesman and the mer
chant were also regarded as pu rsu i ng sord id and
mercenary trades . A ll usefu l o ccupations per
formed fo r pay were deemed servi le and ignoble.
Even the teacher of philosophy who taught forregular pay was the obj ect of Plato ’s b itterest
scorn . When to-day we hear the sys tem ofwages
denounced by labo rers as noth ing but s lavery , i t
wi ll remind us of the advance made toward g iv
ing what A ristotle called the useful and il l iberal pur
su its Of l ife a recognition in the commonweal .
Aristotle’s State , as a natural whole made up of
parts,is subj ect to the laws Ofevery structure ofa
l ike constitution . I n th is whole made up ofmanymembers , some must rule and others must be ru led .
There is in the State a natural inequal ity among the
d ifferent elements . A s i n every obj ect made up of
parts some are only means subservient to a higher
end,so i t i s i n the State . The tools with which a
hou se is bu il t are no part ofthe house itself. Everyanimal has parts which are u sefu l only for certain
anci llary purposes , and these must be held strictlyto thei r ‘ subordinate office . The lower halfof the
body exists for the upper ; and throughout al l
Natu re there is , as in the egg , that which is meant
to grow, and that also which i s meant to p romote
growth . The same principles apply in the State that
we see rul e i n every l iving organism in the natural
world . Shakspeare’
s social view is s imi lar. The
wise Ulysses , i n Tro ilu s and Cressida,” says
170 ARIS TOTLE’
S “POL I TI CS .
”
How couldcommunitie s ,But by deg re e s , s tandin authentic place ?Take butdegre e away, untune that string ,And
,hark, what di s cordfo llows each thing me ets
In me re Oppugnancy.Streng th Shouldbe lordOfimbe c i lity,Andth e rude son shouldstrike h is fathe r dead.
Force shouldbe right .Then eve ryth ing include s itse lf in powe r,Powe r into wil l, will into appe t i te ;Andappe tite , aunive rsal wo lf,So doubly se condedwith will andpowe r,Must make , pe rforce , aUnive rsal pre y,And, las t, eat up himse lf.
The science of A r is to tle sees the same law of
o rder,degree , and subordinated powers and capaci
t ies i n every l iving o rgani sm , whether in the natural
o r the social world . He gives the beeh ive as a
speci al example i n his natural h is to ry of animals .
Shakspeare has put the same compar i son into the
mouth of the pol iti c A rchbishop of Canterbury , i n
Henry
Th e re fore doth Heaven divideTh e state ofman in dive rs functions ,S e tt ing endeavor in continual mo tion ;To whi ch is fixed, as an aim or butt,Obedi ence for so work th e hone y-be e s,Creature s that by arule in Nature teachTh e act oforde r to apeopledkingdom .
NO better summary than this cou ld be given of
A ristotle ’s best form OfState organizat ion .
To A ris totle the whole modern system of cred it,
I 72 ARIS TOTLE’S POL I TI C
property, he says , are very great . Where colon i es
are settled with a common ownership of prope rty,there are continual d isputes about the most t rifl ing
matters . There are disputes also as to the labor al
l otted and the compensation received ; complaints ,criminations , and recriminations , and even blows ,abound . If all th ings are common , no one can
give ass istance to hi s fr iend o r help to the needy ;no one can be generous , no one can be grateful ,no one self- rely ing. If there were no i nd ividual
p roperty , some evils would be removed , but more
evil s would be brought into existence ; l ife would
lose its zest , and unity would become a ti resome
monotony . With the development of vi rtue and
noble l iving, al l the unity that is desirable wil l be
brought about . With community of property , in
dustry would lack much of i ts p resent stimulus,
and not a few of the real pleasures of l ife would
be wanting ; for many permanent and universal
tendencies of human nature would then be without
proper satisfaction .
But A ristotle , the opponent ofcommon property,
i s also Oppo sed to the unlimi ted acqu i s i tion Of
eithe r wealth or land . He sees the evi ls of the
po ssession ofsuperfluous riches , and seeks to guard
agains t them by the mo ral training of the citizens
and the l imitation of buying and sell ing to real
exchanges of property for actual use . To ac cumu
late for the sake of accumulation is so rdid and
base , a habit unworthy of him who would live no
bly and so as to benefi t the State . Only those
ARISTOTLE’
S “POLI TI CS .
”1 73
ends are to be pursued wh ich contribute to a full and
p erfect l ife .
Upon the relation of women to the State, A r i s
totle scarcely touches . Woman is a part of the
household , and receives no particular con s ideration .
Plato would emancipate her from her unnatural
seclusion , and make her the equal of man in the
social o rganization ; but A ristotle l ooks upon her
as the inferior of man , l ike the child and the slave
she is to form a part of the family , whose head and
natural king is the husband , father , and master.Men are not to marry until they are thirty-seven
years of age , or women unti l they are eighteen
thus there is secured for the inexperienced maiden,
as far as possibl e , a grave and experienced coun
se llor and friend , and the father wi ll not be too near
of an age with the ch ildren . who should entertain
for h im a certai n respect and reverence . But was
not Will iam von Humboldt nearer the t ruth , that
i s,to nature and common-sense , —when he said
“ The freshness of youth is the true foundation for
a happy marriage . I would not fo r an instant saythat the happiness of marriage ends with youth ;but I do say that hu sband and wife should carryi nto later l ife the memory ofyears enj oyed together ,if thei r happines s i s not to lose the di s tingu ishingcharacteristi c of wedded bl iss .” Yet ifA ristotle
wi shed to make su re of the wife ’s s ilence before
the hu sband , he certainly was wise to make the
husband venerable . Comte said that the functi on
of the household i s to cu ltivate to the h ighest
1 74 ARIS TOTLE’S “POLI TI CS .
”
point the influence of woman over man ; but in
A ristotle ’s view the hou sehold i s only a factor in
the o rganization of the State which supervi ses“
i t .
He therefore pe rmitted many th ings . such as checks
again s t over-population , which we shou ld con s ider
cruel and inhuman .
On the different forms of State con stitutions ,which A ristotle treats at great length ,1 we need not
dwc ll . I n the small area of Hellenic territo ry al l
kind s ofgovernment were to be found , and the cities
often changed rapidly from one form to another.
A ristotle h im selfp refers the ru le Of one royal head ,ifthat head be gifted with a true genius for ruling , and
endowed with all the virtues that will serve to make
the happines s Of the people the sole end i n view.
But how can such a phoenix be assured ? Next to
such a rare and almost impo ssible phenomenon , the
best government i s a tru e aris tocracy , a govern
ment of the bes t, selected from a body of c itizens
i nstructed in the art of rul ing ; men of education
and expe r i ence . A democracy i s to A r is totle the
worst form of government . This was natural, as
there was no place i n hi s scheme for the education
of the great body of the people .
This vas t American democracy of ours , — th isgraded sys tem o f town
,city , coun ty , State , and na
t ion , - presents a grand whole , with such a subor
dination and combination of parts that A ristotle ’s
p rovis ions for attain ing pol iti cal ends seem insig
1 His expos i tion of th e Constitut ion of Athe ns has be en the
late st discove ry to inte re st th e learned world.
1 76 ARI S ToTLE’S “POLI TI CS .
”
students of natural . and so cial phenomena, and
men who constru ct castles in the air, ci ties in
the clouds , and bel ieve in Utop ian ideals , the
more fervently the more impracticable they ap
pear. Plato depreciated natural science and the
study of physi cal obj ects , giving i t cred it on ly as
a pleasant pas t ime , a means of pleasure which
did not bring repentance with it . This wo rld
was but the spring-board from which the soul
was to make its bound into the infinite , the per
manent , the ideal , the divine . He knew nothing of
o ur modern reverent study of Nature ; for in natu
ral existences was the cause ofal l evil , and the realm
of i deas was to h im the only realm of real ity . The
temporary and changing phenomena of l ife he
deemed unworthy of philosoph ic thought, and the
real statesman was he who could discern e ssential
causes , and see what was , i n i tself and eternally,noble and just . Philosophers , or men of insight
into divine real ities , were of necess ity the rulers in
Plato ’s ideal commonwealth .
The method of the Pol iti cs was j ust the Oppo
s i te from this ; for A ristotle reverenced the facts ofNature , and from these unfolded the general law.
Plato , starting from th e realm of i deas,looked upon
every obj ect ofsense as a declen s i on from the divine
order , as a loss of real ity , an immersion in the
world Of matter and of sense , a descent from eter
nal and permanent goodness and truth . TO studythe actual development of institutions
,and from
various forms of existing States to deduce the
ARIS TOTLE’S “POLI TI CS .
”177
laws of pol itical sc ience , was entirely counter to
his method of phi lo sophiz ing . A ll pas t and
present State-institutions were monstrous and ah
normal phenomena , violations of the d ivi ne ideas
of righteousness and j u stice , and at the best could
be o nly warn ings , —buoys as it were , to Show thel imits of the channel o r the sunken reefs . The“ Politics , on the contrary , has for i ts main thes is
the identification of the State and individual well
being. The end for which man exists i s not in
h imself, but i n that city-State ofwhich he makes
a part . As i n the animal every member and l imb
i s subordinate to the organ ization as a whole , and
as the plan of th is whole gives the normal s tatu s
o r form which each and every part must assume,—so i n the social organism , o r State , the g ood
or well-being of the whole constitutes the norm ,
o r rule , to which every individual part mu s t con
form itself, if there is to be the highest develop
men t . And with A ristotle this may be said to
constitute the absolute ethi cs ; namely , the iden
tification of the ind ividual with the State .
This would seem , then , to be no new doctrine ;
yet this is claimed as someth ing pecul iar to the
modern development of social istic theories . I tu rn
to a book called the “ Eth ics of Social ism , and
there I read the following :
At last,with the dawn ofa new economic era, the
era ofsocial product ion forsocial uses,we shall have also
the dawn ofa new Ethic an Ethic whose ideal is neitherpe rsonal holiness nor pe rsonal intere st, but social happi
1 2
178 ARIS TOTLE’S “POLI TI CS .
”
ness,for which the perfect individual will ever be sub~
ordinate to the perfect socie ty. Th e test ofpe rsonal character wi ll here be the posse ssion ofsocial qual ities andthezeal for positive and de fini te soc ial ends . This may betermed in a sense an absolute Ethic . In this new c on
c eption Of duty the individual consc iously subordinateshimself to the community. The separat ion of ethics
from pol it ics, and of both from relig ion, is final ly abo l
ish ed. In social ism,e thics become pol itical, and poli
t ics become ethical ; while relig ion means but the higherand more far-reaching aspect of that ethical sense of oh
l igation, duty, fraternity, which is the ultimate bond Of
every-day society.
”
Could a better statement be made ofA ristotle ’s
view of the end and aim of social organization ? I t
adds noth ing to i t. TO be sure , A ristotle had a
d ifferent view of what constitutes fraternity ; but
th is does not affect the moral purpo se and the
philo sophic groundwork of his social and poli tical
theory .
This , then, i s the new E thi c , this the supreme
and satisfy ing ideal for which humanity i s to work !
The struggles of the human heart fo r these two
thousand years ; the aspirati ons for a d ivi ne l ife
and for a des tiny beyond time and sense ; the
vi s ion of immo rtal ity ; the communion with the
great and good of al l ages ; the ri sing into h igher
states of loving, d isinterested service ; the opening
vistas of progress ive knowledge , and ofUnfold ingstates and modes ofbeing , - all th is i s to be abolish ed, and that which cons titutes “ the bond of
SOCIAL PROGRESS .
PROGRESS i n the animal world consis ts in manife s
tation of more highly organized forms of l ife , from
the s implest cel l to the most wonderful and compact
human brain . Social progres s is the advance from
the wande r ing savage , sufficient for h is own few in
dividual needs , to the citizen of to-day , dependent
every moment on the minis tration of his fellows in
a thousand ways for comfort and even l ife . At
every s tage we see that soc iety becomes a more
h ighly organized form of l ife , each part more de
pendent, each nerve more sens itive , each remotest
organ more fully ministrant to the need s and wel l
being of the whole , —from the bald monotony of
the Old vi l lage community , to the boil ing s ti r and
l ively commotion of the country of the telegraph ,the railway , and the dai ly newspaper.This social progres s has been in the d irectio n of
the organization of indu stry , the appl ication ofmind
to al l the various employments , occupation s , and
comforts of l ife . Where al l work is performed byslaves , what object in les sening their toi ls , or mak
ing efforts to i ncrease their le isu re ? The wisest of
the ancients c oii ldsee no other way than the slavery
SOCIAL PROGRESS . 18I
of the many i n order that the few might have le i
sure for culture and the means of citizenship . The
S low centuries have evolved the true idea of man
hood , and o n it , as on an eternal foundation , rests
o ur social as well as our po l itical superstructure .
The wonderful s impli ci ty of those arrangements
by which human progress i s promoted escapes our
notice , and therefore i t may be well to look more
m inutely at what takes p lace every moment, and is
more truly miraculous than if man ’s food were
brought to h im every day and laid at hi s feet bysome fowl ofthe air or some beast of the field . NO
del i cate p iece Of machinery ever devised by man i s
so del icate , so complex , so intricately involved i n
i ts parts as th i s l iving machine which we call so
c ie ty , the body politi c , the social organization , the
modern democratic State .
How are su ch resul ts secured as we witness everymoment , and secu red so universally that we do not
take thought ofthem , any more than we do of o ur
breathing, of our walking, of o ur o rdinary use of
speech ? Think how many i nnumerable services
are combined in order to clothe any average citizen
of the mill i ons of o ur p e Op le ! The co tton , S i lk ,flax , wool , and leather , coming from every quarter
ofthe world , have passed through h ow many hand s ,how many changes, how many processes of produc
tion , manufacture , and dis tributi on ! The imagina
tion flags before th is infinite complex ity of labors,i nvention s , industries , and trades . Look upon a
table set out for the commones t meal , and reflect
182 SOCIAL PROGRESS.
what generations of men have conspi red to clear,defend , and ti l l the land ; to plant, reap , gri nd , and
prepare the grain ; how many men have delved i n
mines, h ow many labored to perfect machines ;
and what forces of air, water, and steam have been
brought into p lay before that s imple loaf of bread
was placed upon the table ; — take in all this , andpass over then as commonplace and in s i gnificant,ifyou can , that wonderfu l system of social arrange
ments by which , for a trifle on your part, yo u can
be put into po ssession not only ofthat loafofbread ,but Of a vas t variety of products which by your
own individual efforts yo u never could have earned
in thousand s of years , though you had a hundred
contriving head s and a hundred skilful hands. It
i s the consp iring labor of the human race that
has bu ilt our house s , o rdained ju s tice , establi shed
schools , and secured the means of mate r ial , i ntel
lectual , and sp i r i tual good , more , infinitely more,than the wisest, the stronges t, could ever Obtain byh is own ind ividual labor and skil l . Yet each one ,
by doing his daily work, becomes a share-holder
in this vast company . With his day’s work he pays
h is part of the debt to the human race . Is there
no harmonious working i n the laws by which so
wonderful a result i s brought about ?
Reflect what a triumph of commissariat abil ity i s
involved in supp lying a few hund red soldiers with
what is necessary to eat and drink for a few days .Stil l more , consider h ow the suppl ies of every town
and city seem to take care of themselves . Four
184 SOCIAL PROGRESS .
had a ho le between the th ird and fourth upper mo lar
ofthe left jaw, and had reason to th ink that a tooth
p ick of nickel cu t with cycl oi dal l ines , and curved
on the pattern of the lines of the-p illars of the Parthenon , was necessary for i t, and went i nto a tooth
p ick shop and asked fo r i t, yo u would find that that
parti cu lar th ing had been provided for an emer
g e ncy j u s t l ike yours , and that a stock was kept
with a view to fu ture necess ities .
You then a re at wo rk to supp ly some want ; and
your neighbor, if he i s an honest man , i s al so at
work to supply your want and that of other people
be s ide s . Show your title to any service , and youcan get it . What is th i s title or cert ificate ? Money.
A dollar, say , s tands for so much service to be ren
dered to yo u by the human race ; i t s tands for so
much service of a part icu lar kind rende red by you ,
if you worked fo r i t , - by your ances tors , ifyou inh e rited i t . You have th is ticket : what wi ll you take
it o ut in ? One man i n land , another i n books ;o ne i n a hou se , another in fancy goods of va ri ous
kind s ; one in eatables , another i n drinkable s ,—unti lthe ticket is punched out i n al l i ts values . One
man says , pe rhaps ,“ I will not present my c e rtifi
cate j u s t now ; I will postpone i t for a month o r a
year . You , neighbor, may u se it , and get such ser
vice as yo u can out of i t , pay ing me so much forusing it , j ust as yo u would pay me fo r using myhorse o r my wagon or my house ; only , be sure
that I get it back again at the end Of the time .
”
A do ll ar, then , is the record of so much se rvice
SOCIAL PROGRE SS . I 85
rendered , and is the title to so much service to be
rendered in return . Yo u may hoard it up o r use it
up , loan it o r throw it away ; you may spend i t
yourself, o r give i t to po s te r ity : so far as it goe s ,i t i s a good title to all the manifold labors of all
mankind . Thus , every blow with the hammer, everystroke with the pen , every stitch with the needle ,every throw of the shuttl e , every revolving Of the
wheel , is one more bond of union of the part with
the whole i n this vast aggregate of human services
that constitutes what we call “ civi l ization or“ social
development .”
And without some feel ing that what he does is
of some u se , —that is , has a relation to the greatfabric ofhuman weal ,—no man can be content withh is l ife , no man can receive true joy from his wo rk.
But a perception of th is relation gives elasti c ity to
the muscle , l ight to the eye , cheer to the spi rit, and
speed to the weary hour of to il . The humbles t
worker may truly say ,
“ I also help raise th e great
ed ifice Of society and of social well-being .
”
Many a man becomes d iscou raged , lo ses heart ,Si nks into li stles snes s , o r th rows h im self i nto the
whirl of dis s ipated folly ,because he fails to recog
n ize how infinitely great is the least effort in its re
latio n to the whole , and how infinitely smal l is the
most gigantic strength when i solated and separatefrom the social mass Of benefi t . There i s a world
ofmeaning in that old story ofthe poor Yankee and
the wealthy Penn sylvania ! uaker, when the former
app l ied to the latter for help i n hi s need .
186 SOCIAL PROGRESS .
“ Friend , said the ! uaker,“ I wil l furnish thee
with work , and pay thee fo r i t ; but it is not mycustom to give alm s to one able to labo r l ike thee .
”
That ’s j u s t what I want, repl ied the other ;“ I
am wil l ing to work .
”
“ Well,said the ! uaker, there is a log yonder,
and he re is an axe . Thee may pound on that log
with the head ofthe axe ; and ifthee i s dil igent and
faithful , I will pay thee a dollar a day.
”
I ’
d as soon do that as anything else , said the
laborer ; and acco rdingly he pounded and pounded
on the log with the head of the axe. After a while
h i s energies began to flag , and in half an hour,coming to a full stop , he threw away the axe ,say ing,
“ I ’l l be hanged if I ’l l cut wood without
seeing the chips fly .
”
Good for the poor fellow ! He wanted to effect
some end , to feel that he was doing something more
than earning his dol lar . NO one of u s is content to
pound merely fo r the sake of pounding. Said D r.
Channing,more than fifty years ago ,
TO ge t a l iving aman must be useful . It is strangethat laboring men do not th ink more of the vast usefulne ss of the ir toils , and take abenevolent pleasure in themon this account . This beaut iful c ity, with its houses, furniture , markets, public walks, and numberle ss accommodat ions
,has g rown up under the hands of art isans andother
labore rs ; and ought they not to take a disintere sted joyin their work ? One would think that a carpenter or
mason,on passing a house which h e had he lped to rear,
would say to himse lf, This work ofmine is g iving comfort
1 88 SOCIAL PROGRESS .
relative advantage from improvemen ts i n mach in
e ry than the communi ty at large . Every conques t
over natural powers , e ve ry'
new servant of the brain
b rought to do man ’s b idding, takes so much fromthe co s t ofwhat is intended to supply some human
want. The labor of the hand s , at every s tep ofme
chami cal improvement, at eve ry employment of nat
u ral forces, — su ch as gravitation , heat, attraction , i nai r, water, vapor, and gas , become s proportionallyless and le s s , while Nature suppl ies more and more
of her invis ible ministrants . Fo r the se help ers no
charge is made . Only Open a way for Nature to
serve,and she runs to do your bidding. She asks
nothing but to have the way kept free for service .
Keep that i n good condition , and she neither strikes,nor asks for higher pay , nor even quits work when
the sun goes down . She wil l not be bound apprenti ce to any one exclusive master. Does the inventor
nod , she serves some one who i s wide awake . Does
he appropriate too much to h is own benefit,a hun
dred rivals s tart u p where there is an Open field forwo rk , and immediately some simpler process i s ih
vented , some better machine , some cheaper method ;and thu s there is the u nfaili ng tendency to benefit
the whole , for more of the gain that comes from
the employment of these unti ring, unreasoning,ever-obedient S laves passes over to the credi t of
the many than to that of the few .
The hou ses ofa few large land-owners were once
the only abodes of even a modicum ofcomfort , the
so le po ssessors of many books , of fine furn iture,
SOCIAL PROGRESS . 189
ofworks of luxu ry and art . But even these fewwould look with wonder upon the accumulated re
sources and means belonging to thou sands and tens
of thousands of average citizens to -day . Once the
king’s cou r ier cou ld travel , pe rhaps , at great trouble
and expense , two hundred miles a day ; now the
laborer , at the cost of an hour’s work , can send h is
courier a thou sand miles in a few minute s oftime .
Kings now mu st t ravel upon the people ’s i ro n
h ighway , if they would t ravel as fast as the people
th emselves ; the books read by the ri ch are no
l onger a few i l luminated manu sc r ipts , purchased at
an incredible cost becau se made entirely by human
labor ; but they are printed and bound by machin
e ry , and so are within the reach of all . Thus the
relative gain of the community of men , at everystep of social development through economic law,
is vastly greater than the gain of the cap ital is t, o r
of the few pampered possessors of exc lusive claims
to lordship and p r ivilege and superfluous wealth .
The average level i s continual ly rising , and the
number of sharers i n any common appl ication of
natural forces grows larger every day .
Now , because of the helping forces of Nature
wealth increases ; and th is wealth , over and above
what is immediately used , is the measure ofman ’s
t ri umph over Nature , as well as of Nature’s gratui
tou s servi ce i n the supply of human wants . What
is property , then ? I t is the symbol of power ove r
Nature ; o r, rather , i t i s the record and the expres
sion ofthe use wh ich man has made ofthe forces of
190 SOCIAL PROGRESS .
the material universe . I t i s the resul t ofso much
wo rk done ; and ifyo u will , you can exchange your
share fo r so much work of a different kind . Says a
writer on the Political Life ofour Time ,
Where Nature does everything for man, andman can
l ive from hand to mouth,cap ital has no increase and so
c iety no progress. Cap ital and civi lization have gonehand in hand . The re su lts of a man ’s isolated conte stswith the difficultie s of Nature are e xtreme ly l imited, butal l-powerful and productive in the accumulated effort ofthe race. This const itutes the real fixe d cap ital of ourtime, exist ing not only in our material riches, buildingsand machine ry,—but in the expe rience, the foresight,and the prudence embodied in the agricul tu re, trades,and letters of th e day.
Because i t i s ofso much vital s ignificance , prop
e rty has been the great obj ect which all government
and all organized forms of order have sought to
secure and to protect . Without thi s safety and
security, man remain s a savage and a brute . He
even s inks below the level ofthe brute . The brute
does not know what p roperty is : i t has propert ies ,that is , faculties , exactly proportioned to its l imited
needs . Its faculties , or properties , are good for jus t
so much and no more , —for the secretion of SO
much honey o r wax or web ; for the obtaining of
so much food ; for the con s tru ction Ofa shelter on
j ust such a pattern ; fo r the l iving in ju s t such an
environment : i n a word , th e wants , and the prope r
ti es by which it suppl ies those wants , are n icely
r92 SOCIAL PROGRESS .
i t a prestige , indefinable , subtile , universally pene
trating ; so that he who does not feel it, and is not
u nconsciously swayed by i t , has been pronounced .
a miracle in Nature . But this p restige is not an
unmixed evi l : i t i s one of tho se appearances bywhich man i s lu red on to hi s higher destiny . He
i s trained and educated through symbo ls , and p r i
marily through the wo rld of Nature , which i s itself
only a symbol .
See the operation of the universal law. Man
attains a sense of personal ity , a feel ing of pure ,spiritual activity so far as he rules , directs , and mas
ters the natural wo rld . Just so far as he subdues
and po sses ses Natu re , j ust so far does he come into
the knowledge , the u se , and the enj oyment ofhis
own facu lties as a sp iri tual being. The savage,who
u ses Nature as coextens ive only with the supply of
his pressing animal needs from day to day , remains
s tati onary , makes l ittle social progress , attains no
high degree of social development . He looks upon
the forces ofNatu re as cruel and relentless foes ; he
sees in l ightning and in torrent only wrathful ministers
of vengeance . He feels h is own weakness , his ownsubj ection , his own wretchedness . Nature is not to
h im a mirror in wh ich his own powers are reflected,
a standard by which h is own s trength is measured ;but it is a c rush ing tyrant, before whom he must
unconditionally y ield .
But every advance made by man in subduing
Nature demonstrates his power and measures his
essential worth . He accumulates more than he
SOCIAL PROGRESS . 193
uses for his p resent wants ; and that accumulation ishis capital . Thatsymbolizes hi s power and hi s great
nes s ; that moves him from place to place,unfolds
to h im the secrets of the stars , Opens to h im the
glories of the past, sends h is messages with l ight
ning swiftnes s , tu rn s the swamp into a garden , fi llshis ear with mu s i c and his hou s e with the means
ofcomfort and of ease ; that sets in motion multi
tudes ofmen , and makes his word almost omnip o
tent in the material world .
Thus social progress i s the result of man ’s rule
over Nature ’s powers , o f his activity i n the supplyof various human wants . And the symbo l of thi s
power , the representative of th is essential pre rogative ofman— property has been instinctively and
blindly pursued as if i t were the real and only good
in itself. The idol has been worshipped as if i t
were the god . I n th is material sheath the h igher
sp iritual development of man has been cared fo rand protected ; fo r i n i ts bu ild ing up of material
interests humanity is bu i ld ing up something better
than it now sees . Through the free and unre
stricted operation ofthe laws i nherent in l ife and the
wo rld , the great problems ofso ciety wil l have their
solution . The special o rgan ization is beyond the
device of any ind ividual skil l ; bu t the time will
come when the general means of good shal l SO far
surpass any one man’s peculiar appropriation , that
the idol shall be dashed in p ieces,and the domain
ofNature pass entirely over to man . At every stepof the transfer, what are now exclusive benefits
13
194 S0GIAL PROGRESS.
will then be distributed as a common heritage . The
privi leges Of the few i n learn ing and art are rap idlybecoming the po s s ibi li ties ofall . The general level
ofcomfo rt , of opportunity , of knowledge , is ris ing
from year to year ; and to doubt of the sufficiencyof the in-working laws ofhumanity fo r evo lving the
highest good i s to doubt the splendid achievements
of the present and the no less sp lend id possibili ties
of the futu re .
Man ought never to be troubled about the
means o f subs is tence , say s the Hindu apologue
in its admi rable s implicity ;“ for that the Creator
provides . A mother has no sooner given birth to
her chi ld , than two fountains of milk flow from the
maternal bo som .
” Thi s suggests a truth which
every s tage o f human p rogres s does but make
more plain . I n i t are volumes of social sc ience ;i n i t i s the prophecy of everything relating to
moral and natural sub s istence . Every supplywhich humanity needs comes i n i ts time ; everychild of inventive geniu s opens the sealed fountains
of Natu re ’s maternal breast. To be alarmed lest
i ron and coal and Oil shall fai l ! Let them fail
there is water, the re i s air, there i s sunl ight to ren
de r up thei r infinite sto res ofgood .
What i s the les son taught over and over again ?
Whenever the old has ceased , some better ne w has
taken its place ; whenever the o ldfaith and the o ld
form are bu t hu sks , behold ! from the unknown
depth Ofthe human Spi r i t come s some fresh insp ira
196 SOCIAL PROGRESS .
place in the heavens . ’ With this thought, peace and hopeentered my soul , and my moral sanity was restore d .
Neither must we be misl ed by shooting stars or
sparkl ing meteors that flash across the Sky . I t i s
related ofPres ident Lincoln , that in the gloomiest
period of the war he had a call from a large delega
tion of bank pres idents . One of them asked him
whether his confidence i n the permanency of the
Union was not beginni ng to be Shaken ; to which
this embodied genius of common-sense made the
following reply :‘Gentlemen , when I was a young
man in I ll inois,I boarded fo r a time with a worthy
deacon of the Presby terian Church . One night I
was roused from my s leep by a rap at the door, and
I heard the deacon ’s voice exclaiming ,“ Get up ,
Abraham ! the day ofjudgme nthas come ! Spring
ing from the bed I rushed to the window, and saw
great showers of fal l ing stars ; but looking back of
them,I saw i n the heavens the grand old cons tella
ti ons fixed and true in their well-known places.Gentlemen ,
’ he added , ‘ the world did not come to
an end then , nor wil l the Union now .
’
The great social result we now see has been
brought about without any one man’s, o r al l men
’s,
direct or volunta ry contrivance , a result plasti c to
every higher, in-press ing tendency . May we notsay , then , i n regard to social development what an
eminent phys i ologistl says i n regard to the physical
universe , that to see a great result brought about
1 Nature andMan. By W . B . Carpente r. P. 382.
SOCIAL PROGRESS . 197
by the consentaneous but d ivers ified ac tion of a
multitude of ind ividuals , each of whom does h is
own particular work in a manner that combines
harmoniou s ly with the different work ofevery other,suggests to me nothing but admiration for the
Master-mind by which that order was devised .
”
SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLEMS .
IN his grandest Ode , Intimations of Immortal
ity from the Recollection s of Early Childhood ,Word sworth draws
,not proofs , but suggesti on s of
man’s capacity for the immortal l ife ; and he raises
the song of thanks and praise , not for the delight
and liberty and hOp e of Childhood ’s years ,
Butfor those obstinate que stioning sOfsense ando utwardth ing s ;Fal lings from us , van i shing s ;B lank m i sgiving s ofacreatureMoving about in worlds not realized;High instincts, be fore which ourmortal natureDidtremble like agu i lty thing surpri sed:Butfor tho se first affe ct ions
,
Those shadowy re co l le ct ions,Which , be th e y what the y may
'
,
Are yet th e fountain-light ofall ourday,Are ye tamaste r
~ light Ofall our se e ing .
”
Equally suggestive are those dreams of a nobler
than the present life , which , whether they take the
form ofa paradise i n the ages long pas t , o r a para
dise in the coming ages ofthe future of humanity,al ike give intimations of an immo rtal Spi r i t and an
eternal destiny . Man is not content with that which
200 SOCIAL PLANS AN D PROBLE IIIS .
he makes the beginnings of humanity i n the lowest
depths of i gnorance and want , without the knowl
edge even of fi re , dwell ing
In hol lowedho le s , l ike swarms of tiny ants ,In sunl e ss depths of cave rns.”
I t is evident that IEschylus conceived civili zation as
growth .
The early p r iesthoods were the select brother
hoods , which , withdrawn into themselves , had pos
sessi on Ofwhatever knowledge then existed , and kept
i t too as thei r own exclus ive right . In the ir view
the multitude were to be led , and to be let into onlv
so much acquaintance with the anci ent traditions
and the higher wisdom as seemed safe to the fewdwellers i n the inmo s t c ircle. Among the freedom
loving Greeks , however, the exclu s ive l ines drawn
by the sacred fratern ities were soon ove rleap ed , and
i n the traged ies of the poets and the ph ilo soph ies of
the early schools was embodied whatever was vital
in the mysteries and the sacerdotal fraternities . But
phi lo sophy d id not outgrow the idea of someth ing
select to be fol lowed only by the few , who cons ti
tuted a separate cas te , and whose l ife was not to be
stained by contact with the o rdinary cares and bu s i
ness of the many . The g reat philosopher Pytha
go ras,who preceded Plato , and to whom Plato was
vastly i ndebted , founded a secret society, or rel i
gions community , into who se mysti c wisdom onlytho se were admitted who underwent years of in itia
tory preparation by si lence , by prayer, by purify
SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLEM S . 20 1
ing services . unti l they were deemed wo rthy to re
c e ive the knowledge of the i nmost revelations of
sc ience and rel igion . Th e d iscipl ine which Pathagoras ins tituted was intended to raise up a companyof se lect soul s , who should be the teachers ofman
kind , and who Should l ive a separate and d ivine life .
I t was a new method of l iving , and his di sciples re
c e ived a training in science , i n morals , and in pol iti
cal knowledge . It was their m ingl ing i n pol itics ,together with thei r aristocratic bearing and haughtyexclusiveness , which brought about their destru ction
as an order and scattered them over Greece . I t is
easy fo r us to comprehend how that which holds
others in contempt Should itself finally become the
victim ofcontempt in other men .
In al l ages rel igion appears to have been the con
se c rating bond that has kept together thos e who
would separate themselves from ordinary so ciety , and
thus attain a position offreedom from its claim s andi ts cares . NO plan ofmateri al ut ili ty alone , of sen
sual pl easure , of pecun iary gain , has been able to
u nite fo r any l ength of time the son s and daughters
of thi s dreaming, aspiring human race . But some
common , infinite hope ; some longing fo r good un
bounded by the narrow l imits Ofearth and sense ,th i s has melted away the differences ofexternal con
d iti on , ofstrength , ofcapacity , ofwealth , and ofo ut
wa rd form , and given a long lease Of perpetuity to
many so cial arrangements . Witness th e E ssenes in
Egypt and Palestine ; the monas ti c orders of the
Middle Ages ; theMoravians and Shakers ofmodern
202 SOCIAL PLAN S AND PROBLEMS .
times . I n the earli est days of overflowing common!
affection and devotion , the fo llowers of Christ made
common cause fo r mutual support , and no longer
said mine and th ine , as far as fellow-believe rs we re
conce rned . But thi s was no as sociation taking in
all the wo rl d ; i t was a solidarity among tho se
only who felt as brothers , and owned one common
head ; i t was a pas s ing, temporary condition of
things , a s l imited and as exclu s ive as the l ife-schoolof Pythagoras , or the brotherhood of the Knights
of Saint John .
But as we travel down the ages we come into a
different atmosphere . I nd ividual l iberty begins to
claim its rights . Religion , more and more relegated
to a futu re world , cease s to regulate and pres ide over
the p re sent . Science makes known its wonderful
secrets ; freedom in the Sphere Ofpo litic s , oftho ught,and of labor makes its demands . The American
Revolution i s an Obj ect-lesson that startles the dull
est pupi l in the schoo l of privi lege and d ivine right.
The French Revolution , so qu ickly consumed by i ts
own exces ses , scatters everywhere glowing embers ,which kindle into a l iving flame , and burn on and
on whe rever there is wrong to be redressed and
inequal itie s to be removed . The foundation s up
heaved , trembling , do not fal l back again into the
Old p laces . “We are here , say the labo ring million s,“ and we are men who claim our rights !
I n the first quarter Ofthe present century the voice
that gives u tterance , embody ing i n articulate , syste
matic tones thi s c ry Of labor, i s that of the Count
204 SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLEMS .
Lou is Phil ippe in 1 848 was driven from the throne .What an era was that of grandes t enthusiasm and
hope ! The governor of Mas sachusetts , George
N . B r iggs , i n h i s Thanksgiving proclamation ex
h o rted us al l to pray to“Our Father in Heaven ,
that He will vouch safe His aid to o ur fellow-men
in the O ld World , who are struggl ing to throw off
the Opp ress ion of ages , and to regain their long
lo s t rights .”
The element which predominated in the earlystages of th is movement In France was that which
the exiled king had opposed and persecuted . It
was thus formulated in the defence ofsome repub
licans who were accu sed of violating the law by
sed itiou s utte rances i n 1833, three years after Louis
Phil ippe had been made king .
We demand,
” boldly said the defendants’ counsel
,
“ that labor Shal l no longe r be made subordinate to theinterests ofthe greedy and the idle that the workingmanbe no longer made th e he lpless drudge of the cap italist ;that the labor of his hands be not the sole source of
profi t ; that he may find in the establ ishment of publicbanks, in the diffusion of instruct ion
,in the wise ad
m inistrat ion Ofjust ice, in the multiplication of the meansof inter-communicat ion, and in the strength ofassociationitself, the way ofenlightening his tasks, offreeing his capacities, and ofrecompensing his industry and courage.
”
I t was the energy imparted by th is social element
that won the victory over the royal government ; i t
was the hope which this gave that insp ired the
SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLEMS . 205
clamorous democracy and res trained thei r fierce
exce sse s . Thus France stood in the vanguard of
the nations , and po inted o ut the way i n which , i t
was claimed , the ho s ts ofthe futu re must march .
Ah , well , the revolutio n failed ; but the e nthusi
asm ofhumanity never d ies !
The present so cial isti c atmosphere has been the
gradual accretion of nearly a century of growth i n
democrati c ideas . . From 1825 to 1 850—the secondquarter of o ur present century was a period of
social experiments under various names ofc ommu
nitie s , phalanxes , associations , unions , co-operative
societies , etc . , the professed obj ect ofwhich was to
furnish a cathol i con , or un iversal remedy , fo r al l the
i lls that affl i ct the social body . There were between
fo rty and fifty ofthese societies , with a membership
of about nine thousand persons , and with an aver
age life of les s than two years . The story ofthese
attempts to heal the s ickness of society by a uni
versal remedy is one of the most pathetic pages ofhuman h is tory. I t i s a most moving tragedy , if
the essence of tragedy be the coll is ion of the ideal
and the actual ,—the shipwreck ofhope , asp iration ,and faith , when noth ing had been looked for but
clear skies , favoring winds , and an open sea .
But Nature and l ife are inexorable . To mean
wel l i s not enough ; good intentions wil l not make
up fo r the want of conformity to the s imple laws of
intell igence , i ndu s try , pati ence , and order . Robert
Owen . a s incere ph ilanthropist , one of the earl iest
social reformers , obeyed these laws in his dealings
206 SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLE/l/S .
with wood , s tone , wool , and iron , and became a
wealthy magnate i n the manufactu r ing wo rld . He
disobeyed them in h is phi lanthrop ic social ism , be
cause he was ignorant of the finer quali ties of ih
d ividual and collective humanity . Each man is a
more subti le mechanism than was ever embodied
in wood or iron ; and ye t how easy a thing, manyth ink , he i s to put into some as sociate phalan stery ,
and how sure he i s to go right ! I n 1 824 , Owen
bought out the land and buildings of the Rappites
o n the banks of the Wabash , and issued h is invita
tion to al l the peoples of the earth to throw offthe
mons trous evils to which up to that hour man had
been a slave . O n the 4th ofjuly , 1 826 , he del ive red
his new declaration of independence , i n a hal l at
New Harmony , to the nine hundred soul s who had
been attracted by his p icture of the golden oppor
tunity t o attain al l human good s , without any ac
company ing mo rtal i l l. He said :
For nearly forty years have I been employed, heartand soul, day by day, almost w ithout ceasing , in preparingthe means and arranging the c ircumstances to enable me
to g ive the death-blow to the tyranny which for unnum
be red age s has he ld the human m ind spe l lbound in chainsofsuch myste rious forms that no mortal has dared approachto set the suffe ring prisoner free Nor has th e fulne ss oft ime for the accompl ishment of this great event beencompleted unti l within this hour. Such has been the
'
extraordinary course of events, that the Declaration of
Pol itical Independence in 1 776 has produced its counte rpart
,the Declaration ofMental Inde pe ndence in 1 826
,
the latter just half acentury from th e former.”
208 SOCIAL PLAN S AND PROBLEMS .
hardened , and deftly smoo thed , and the stones,something else than crumbl ing pudding- s tone !When Robe rt Owen was seventy-five years o ldhe
again vis ited th is country on a lecture tour, to ad
vocate his ph ilanthrop ic schemes . He was not
shaken in h is fi rm faith of being able to establ ish ,as A din Ballou says of him , a great model of the
new social State , which would bring the human race
into a terrestrial paradise . I n 1846 he lectured in
the New York A ssembly chamber before the dele
gate s to form a new Constitution for that State , in
which he said :
All relig ious systems, const itut ions, governments, andlaws are
,and have been
, founded in error ; and that erroris
,that man forms his own character. They [the dele
gates! were about to form another Consti tut ion basedupon that error
,and e re long more Constitutions would
have to be made and altered, —and so on, unt i l the truththat the character of man is formed for him shal l be te
cognized , and the system ofsociety based upon th at prin
c iple become national and universal.
This is , expressed o r unexpressed , the essen
tial poi nt of view, the fundamental creed , of all
social isti c schemes . Loui s Blanc stated it plainlyin his programme , when he said :
“ I t is not the
man who is respons ible fo r his wrong-doings , but
society ; and , hence , a society on a good basis
will make the individual man good . With a cer
tain class of mind s there is th is convicti on , that
external conditions are the all- important thing ;
SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLEMS . 209
that with changed ci rcum stances , the entire inner
being wi ll be changed . This was the expre s sed
creed , as we have seen , of Robe rt Owen ' and he
based upon this theoretical view of man s natu re
al l h is reasonings and exhortations . I t crop s out
incidental ly i n many advocates of social changes .
Thu s Gronlund says : A social ist r! gime wi ll make
it a man’s interest to be honest ; and j ust as su relyas a stone falls to the ground , all men will become
hones t .” Here seems to be an entire ignorance
of what constitutes honesty as a virtue . Becau se
a man does not steal from you o r p ick your pocket,he is not neces sari ly an honest man : yo u can
s imply predicate of h im that he i s not a p ick
pocket , o r that he is not a th ief. The ox , satisfied
with the rich pasturage of i ts grazing-fie ld, feeds
on, and doe s not j ump the wall that d ivides i t
from the adj oining rocky pas ture . That speaks
wel l for i ts contented d isposition , but it i s not
honesty . So it does not constitute a man of in
te grity to perform , as a cog-wheel in a machine ,the work appointed h im in some social r! gime .
A s a part of the mach ine , he has no idea what
integrity means . A ccord ing to the terms laid down,
he has no more temptatio n to do differently than
a stone has not to fall to the ground . The s tone
has j ust as much integri ty , then , as the man : i t
i s an honest stone , let me tell you that .Here comes out plainly the radical defect of al l
such panaceas . They profe ss to furnish , once forall , the cathol ico n , o r universal remedy for al l th e
14
2 10 SOCIAL PLAN S AA’
D PROBLEMS.
i l ls that social flesh is heir to . All wants are to be
suppl ied , all suffe rings removed , all affl ictions healed ,by some external arrangements which money and
modern improvements can furni sh . These wi l l
form a man ’s character, pe rfect his morals , purifyhis motives
,and make h im d is inte res ted , manly ,
and loving ! That he shal l form h is own character
is , ofcourse , absurd . Even Lame nnais , whose deepsp iritual sympath ie s were stirred , and whose inter
es t was that ofa man in the sufferings ofhis fellow
man , says that“ from the holy maxims of equality,
l iberty and fraternity being immovably e s tabl ished ,the organization of society will emanate . But
embody , if you will , these maxim s i n an external
form , and how long wi l l i t last unless there is the
internal sp iri t pervading its every part ! To gather
brothers by blood under one roof has never yetproved a cathol ico n for an unbrotherly temper .But in the system of Fourier al l th is demand for
pure princip le s of action i s regarded as se ntime n
tal bo sh . Society , he thinks , mu st be organized
so as to give free exp res s i on to al l the natu ral ten
denc ie s ofman . Self-res traint , self-control , and self
sacrific e are the fundamental errors of an effete
and collapsing order of th ings . The general har
mony will come from the free action and re -action
ofal l th e affections , tendencies , and passions ofman .
So arrange the wo rk , the o ccupations , and the
amusements of l ife that every spontaneous passion
shall find its proper gratificati on , and the great
laws of social order wil l be establ ished on the
2 12 SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLE IIIS .
And th is association was announced as the remedyfor “ the present defective , vice-engende r ing, and
ru inou s system of society , with its wastefu l compli
cation of isolated hou seholds , its destructive com
petition and anarchy i n industry , its constraint of
mill i ons to idlenes s , etc .
I t i s hard fo r us , at thi s day, remote from the stir
ring e nth usiams of publi c meetings , the personal
magnetism of leaders , the devoted zeal of long-pon
de r ing thought, and the hardship s , perhaps , of a
previous life of con straint and poverty ,—it is hard
fo r us to be patient with such utter want ofcommon
sense , with the s tup id futi l ity of these numerous
plans and attempts to cure , once fo r al l , the diseases
of modern society . One of the se e scap ing victims
wel l s ays ,“ If human beings were pas s ive bodies ,
and we could place them ju s t whe re we pleased , we
might s o arrange them that their acti ons would be
harmoniou s .” Yes ; but thi s i s a mighty if, thatought to be enough to deter any reflecting man
from the attempt. And he goes o n to say ,
“ Ifwe
knew mathematically the laws which regulate the ac
tion s ofhuman beings , i t is po s s ible we might place
all men i n true relation s to one another .”
Now, th is i s what Charles Fouri er profe ssed to
have di scovered and unfo lded to humanity . As
th is ve ry man says , We wished to combine capi
tal and labor, accord ing to the theory laid down
by Charles Fourier . It seems almost incred ible
that such men as Horace Greeley , Charles A . Dana,and o thers shou ld have actively encouraged poor,
SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLEM/S . 2 13
wel l—meaning enthusiasts to embark in such hazardo us schemes . They knew well enough , what these
earnest sou l s did not know, that Charles Fourier
d iscouraged all attempts to carry o ut his theory ,
unless it could be carri ed o ut i n its completeness
and under the ci rcumstances i nd icated by him .
He laid down the exact forces ofwhat he called
passional attract ion , by which a harmonious adjust
ment would result , if a community were arranged
i n such groups and series as some two thousand
persons might render poss ible , in a fitting phalan
ste ry , Andintell igent men who understood Fourier
sat by and saw these ignorant people embark in
an undertaking that was as sure to fail as the sun
was to set. I t was as if some naval constructor
had said ,“ Build me a ship of such a s ize and of
such a strength , and you shal l be insured safety in
crossing the s tormies t ocean . And they build a
ship of reeds and shingles , and they cal l i t leismodelled ves sel , and put fo rth bravely to sea , ands ink , even before they have passed the harbor
’s
mouth ! To float bogus mines and bonds of rai l
road s that begin nowhere and end in the same
place,is harmless in comparison with th is trifl ing
with man’s most sacred asp iration s and hopes .
A nother association was started with a flo urish
ing consti tu tion of s ixty-two articles, of which the
fourteenth is as fol lows :
The treasu ry shal l consist of a suitable metallic safe,se cured by seven diffe rent locks, the keys of which shall
2 14 SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLEMS .
be depos ited in the keeping andthe care of the followingofficers, to wit, —one with th e president ofth e Unity, onewith the pres ident of the advisory counci l, one wi th thesecretary-general, one with the agent-general, one with th earbiter-general, and one with the reporte r-gene ral . Th e
moneys in said treasury to be drawn out only by authorityofan order from th e executive counc il, signed by all themembers of the same ID session at the t ime of the draw
ing of such order, and countersigned by the president ofth e Unity. All such moneys thus drawn shall be committed to the care and disposal of the executive council .”
Here evidently was trust put not in human nature,but in a combination that beats the most elaborate
modern combination- lock of the finest steel . No
money , however, was lo s t ; fo r none was ever put
in , and the Unity i tself soon became a zero .
To read the enti re reco rd of these attempts to
overcome the great p r imal laws ofNatu re and hu
manity ; to see often the bes t hearts broken under the
fatal impingement agains t the rocky ramparts that
the everlasting nature of things build s against ignorance , rashness , and vi ce ,—leaves l ittle room for ridicu le or even blame . This wo rld is but young, and
the same lesson has to be learned again and again .
The day for forming such as sociations as a social
catholi con has gone by , and the view of hopeful
dreamers is fixed upon a far higher goal,that is
, of
bringing al l the power of the State to annihi late all
i nd ividual p roperty, al l cap ital i n private hands , and
to e fle ct al l production and al l d istribution through
publ ic functionaries of the State.
SOCIAL PLANS AIVD PROBLEMS .
That any definite plan which man can devise , d
prion,wil l be the final goal ofhumanity is a UtOpian ideal . Man , as a recip ient of the infinite real ity ,
mu s t ever be unfold ing, putting fo rth higher aspira
tions , and u s ing every present attainment as a step
ping stone to ye t more glo r i ous ideals . The real
heaven i s in the enj oyment and u se ofth is growing
aspiration . I t i s not a d iscontented feeling ar is i ng
from the want ofs ome definite means ofenj oyment ,but ofenti re content with th e means and condit ions
as adequate to man ’s real wants . To be absolutelype rfect i s , i ndeed , an imposs ible state for humanity ;but to be content with an ever increas ing growth of
higher possibi l iti es is the reward of fidelity to the
opening ideal s . I n all ages , man has had the au
dac ity to think that he c an cons tru ct a model
according to which society mu s t be arranged , if i t
wou ld reach a perfect s tate . I t is forgotten that
i t would be easier to construct a l iving man than
a l iving society . There i s no l imit to man’s power
in making machines ; but social man is the most
complex mechanism in Nature .
Becau se , moreover, man i s this l iving , organized
form of affection s and spontaneou s impulses ; becau s e h e i s subj ect to every skyey influence , and
open to ever fresh insp irations of truth and duty,i t
i s impossible to make him over after any o ne model ,o r disti l any one s imple or compound eli xi r that
shall su it al l h is wants , or remedy all h is social evi ls .A s Mr . E ly says :
“ There is no one remedy for social
evi ls. A multitude of agencies for good must work
SOCIAL PLANS AND PROBLEM S . 2 17
together . But doe s not he h imselffal l into this idea
ofa cathol icon , panacea , or u niversal remedy ,when
he quote s with approval these word s of De Lave
leye : The re must be for human affairs an o rder
whi ch is the best. I t is the order whi ch ought to
exist for the greatest happiness of the human race .
I t is for man to dis cover and es tabl ish it .” Now
,i s
the responsibi l ity laid upon man to discover the bestorder for all the human race any mo re than to dis
cover the best weather for the whole round earth ?I t i s for man to adapt himself i n the best way he
can to tho se conditions of earth , sky , and atmos
ph e re which prevai l from hour to hour, i n this
cl imate and in that . He can establ ish , prz'
e rz'
,no
one state ofthings which , being the absolutely best,wil l answer fo r al l times and al l men . There can be
no o ne permanent, crystal l ized form that shall e ndure forever . To every human state the re is a
morning and an evening ; for movement is the token
and condition of l ife . While man lives , he must be
in vital relations, ever changing, with that wh ich
surrounds him ; and that which surrounds h im re
fle cts his own i nternal being . Any o ne fixed state
would seem to a growing and unfold ing soul an in
tolerable burden, a wearisome monotony of exist
ence . Flat, s tale , and unprofitable wou ld become all
the uses even ofthe bes t wo r ld into which we were
n icely fi tted to a T, parts of a machine from which
there was no escape .
To the clear-seeing eye , society is now a form of
useful activitie s , and not a mere conglomerate of
2 18 SOC/AL PLANS AND PROBLEMS .
scrambl ing , self-sufl‘ic ing , al l-grasp ing individuali
ties . There i s no hone s t work or bu s i ness that isnot founded upon the actual neces s ities of man
,or
which does not include the good of some others
than self. Every pay ing employment , as well a s
many non-pay ing ones , ministers to some human
need . To earn h is own daily bread , the ind ividual
mu s t perform some service to his fellow-men ; and
all the apparatu s ofsocial ex is tence is fo r the supplyof the varied wants ofsocial man .
The more these wants are multipl ied , the more
easy i t becomes to get what is called a l iving ; and
at the present time there are very many ways of
minis tering to the wants ofsociety where fifty years
ago there was one . The varieties ofdaily work are
increas ing from day to day ; and it has been well
said , that “ every one who is l ifted from a l ife of
bare exi stence to one where it becomes a necessityfor h im to have the best of l ife , is adding so much
to the wo rld ’s wealth .
” I n this way l ife becomes
as great as we can make it .
A s trenuous advocate of making all men publ ic
functionaries , says :“ Look at the pettiness of iso
lated private bu s i ness ; and then consider what a
dignity i t wil l confer on one to become a publ ic func
tionary , conscientiou s ly contributing , i n h is smallest
acts , to society's welfare But is not all the dignity
really contained in that one mighty word consci
entiou s ly”P I s not that included in the humbles t
work of every honest man and woman to -day ?
SOCIAL TENDENCIES .
IN every organic structure there is a relation of all
the parts to the whole ; and when this relation is
normal and perfect the obj ect is beautiful , and
answers al l the purposes fo r which it was made .
But when some one part, some one organ , is forced
out ofthis relation, deformity is the re sult . Societymay be deformed through undue predominance of
king or lord s or commons , when king , lo rds , and
commons make up the whole . I n different ages ,d ifferent types of deformity are seen .
I t has been wel l said that the three great char
acte ristic s ofany l iving organism are unity , growth ,and identity of structure . These characteristi c fea
tures manifes t themselves in that o rganism which we
call the United State s of America . The variou s
parts are united as a vital whole ; and ofth is whole ,growth can mo s t surely be predicated . So also can
identity of s tru cture . In England there is no such
identity , for hereditary kingship and hereditarylords do not belong to a democratic structure .
In the social tendencies o f to -day toward the car
rying o ut of democrati c princip les into l ife , manysee only danger to ou r present form of po l itical
SOCIAL TENDE N CIE S . 22 1
organization . A recent write r in the “ A tlantic
Monthly” will have i t that i n the establishment of
o ur government w e we re simply carry ing o ut the
p rincip le s and habits of constitu tional h isto ry ,but
that now other influences have come in , to which
we mu s t adapt ourselves the best way we can ; that,above all , leaders are necessary , and only i n na
tional leaders can national safety be found . He for
gets the one great leader(th e peop l e ) which makesleaders pos s ible only as they share in the inspiration
that comes to every sou l ; he does not con s ider that
we shall hold together only so long as we are the
conductors of the magnetic cu rrent that streams
through al l the race ; that ou r safety and growth
cons ist not i n holding fast to any h istorical pre
cedent,but i n obeyi ng the law of human progress
,
and in foll owing that sp i r i t of equal justice , of uni
versal freedom , which was the key-note of the first
i ntelligent polit ical utterances .
But whether original o r imported , we mu s t accept
the break which present tendencies that order of
th ings i n which we l ive and work to-day—havemade with the o ld . We hear it said : “ True
, w e
have a different way of govern ing , we choose our
rul ers , and they do not theirs ; that i s about al l yo u
can make of it . I t i s a ques tion , however , if thei r
way may not be the best , sometimes at leas t. To
be sure , an hereditary ru ler and a privileged class
do not always p roduce the best resu lts ; and on the
whole , ifwe can have a good strong police , i t maynot prove so bad a th ing to have got rid of the ex
222 SOCI AL TENDEN CIE S .
pensive luxury of kings and queens,—especially
if they have large families , and all the regal s cions
must have es tabl ishments and pen s i on s , and be suppo rted out ofthe publ ic c r ib . Yet how nice i t would
be to have , as Mr . Carly le says they have in England ,a body ofbrave men and ofbeautiful , pol ite women ,furni shed g ratis , as they are , —some of them (asmy Lo rd Derby , I am told , in a few years will be)with not far from two - thi rd s of a mi ll ion sterl ingannually !
’ Why could not we with profit have i n
Ame r i ca , as Mr. Carlyle sugge sts ,‘a nobleman o r
two , with his chivalry and magnanimity , one polite
in the fines t form ,- the poli tes t kind of nobleman
(especially his wife , the pol ites t and gracefu llestkind of
Now, greatly as we mu s t admire bravery and
magnanimity , devoutly as we may worship pol ite
ness and grace of demeanor, mere politenes s and
grace cannot make the sun'
go round the earth ,even a l ittle . B rave ry and magnanimity must be
developed in s ome mo re rational and con s i stent
way than thi s . We mu s t accept the b reak which
o ur democratic o rder makes with the old order of
things. “ The b reach of America , says the Ger
man Mich e le t,l with the o ld princip les is com
p le te . Ame r i ca is to be called a new world , i n the
spiritual sen se ye t mo re than i n the natural . Its
connecting bond is the unive rsal sp i r i t. I ts rulers
are not the mas ters,but the se rvants of the people .
I t h as no nobil i ty , no privi leged class with its oss i
1 H istory ofthe D eve lopme nt of Human i ty s ince 1 775.
224 SOCIAL TENDEN CIE S .
fold ing and realization of pri nciples and tenden
cies that are eve rywhere operating throughout the
civi l ized wo rld . The form which such princ iples
must take i n political organizatio n has here been
taken . I n that d irection the fitting exp res s ion has
been found ; the sp i r i t has created its adapted body ,
and that work need s not to be done again . And i t
i s a unive rsal law, that any spi ritual tendency oper
ates with fu ll power only when i t has reached the
outmo s t boundary , the lowest p lane of action and
l ife ; then it ascends , and pervades every part with
fulles t energy . I t be came a vital necessity that
s lavery should be cut away ; fo r i t was a cancerous
tumor in the body politi c , sucking up the l ife and
corrupting the blood . I t is a vi tal necess i ty that
the fresh demand s of the Spi r i t of humanity to be
embodied i n other sphe res of l ife than tho se of
dynasties and dip lomacies shou ld meet a fi tting
response , and that u ltimate forms be organized in
which it can dwell . The idea that each humanbeing is to enj oy his full share in al l that makes
humanity great and beautifu l and strong is here
to grow brighter, even unto the perfect day .
Those que s tions which are imminent even now i n
European pol itics , - ques tions of fo rms ofgovern
ment, of prop r i etorsh ip , of freedom of speech and
the press, of privileges of bi rth and of clas s , o f
ancestral rights , of distribution of power, of civil
and eccles i astical ju r isdiction , —are settled here ;and they interest u s only as being the i nitial move
ments of that tendency everywhere at work . Cer
SOCI AL TENDEN CIE S . 2 25
tai n external i nstitution s are not in harmony with
the democratic sp irit i n the British emp ire ; and
if the democrati c sp irit is to have sway , tho se in
stitutions must go , i n sp ite of conservative fears
and reluctant tenaci ty of possession .
“ I t is impossible
,
” says one ,“ to reconcile hered itary privi
lege with civi l equal ity of rights ; and while th is
antagonism exists , under forms howeve r venerated ,there will always accompany i t a sense of i nsta
bility and feel ing of uncertainty with regard to na
tional action , and a never ending source ofnational
confl i ct .” l
I n America we have done with discuss ing the
rights of Church and State , of king and subj ect ;we have not to contend fo r theoreti cal freedom ,
or to overthrow hierarchies , orders , and hereditaryestabl ishments . We begin where thi s , as an ideal ,ended . Our theory assumes the es sential manhood
of every man , and regards i nstituti ons as but the
means of perfecting tnat. We believe that everyman is in all essential rights equal to every other
man ; that every man is a pries t and a king ; that
no pope can add to h is royalty by any couse
crating o il , no ruler can confer upon him any c ivi l
right , no outward d ignity can exact h is homage .A s man , he enters upon an inheritance of i nfini te
freedom and unbounded progress . The law which
he obeys , he obeys because i t has fi rst been enacted
in his own soul ; i ts val idity is no t i n any outside
ord inance , but in the tribunal ofhis own heart . He
1 The Po l itical Life ofo ur Time . By D . N icol .
226 soCIAL TENDE N CIES .
i s governor as wel l as governed , law-maker as well
as citizen , j udge as wel l as executive . Here is scope
for the individual and so cial appl ication of everytruth in educati on , morals , and pol iti cal sc ience ,for the appl ication of every ideal that human aspi
ration has ever framed , every grace , every magna
nimity , every service that the lover ofGod or man
has nurtured in rares t moments of insight , o r in
hi s mo st enthu s iasti c dreams . The currents of h u
manly i nsp iring l ife flow all with i n and around ; and
so far as a man i s open to their influence , he rises
into elements of fresh s trength and use .
The central principle , then , which pervades o ur
national organic structure is manhood . I ts po
l itical expression i s a common-p lace of oratorical
appeal ; but i ts operation as a b e nefic e nt, cons er
vating principle ofsocial o rder and development is
not yet fully acknowledged , o r even clearly per
c e ived. We ought to see that i t i s not destructive ,but constru ctive ; not to be feared , but welcomed ;not d isorganiz ing and d is integrating, but heal ing
and o rganific i n all i ts normal applications .The d iffi cu lty i n effecting thi s normal adju s tment
o f l ife to the po litical theory i s enhanced by the
Operation of influences that come from the mightyrevoluti on taking place i n the indu stri al sphere .
Thou sand s are made ri ch and other thou sands are
made poor by the changes that take place in the
busine ss wo rld . A mill ionnaire is made by some
unexpected rise in the value of land , some discoveryof oi l or coal or iron or copp er, by some rise in
228 SOCIAL TE /VDE N CIE S .
g rand army, with its d iscip l ined ranks and orderlymarch
,comes to p rotect and upbui ld ; while the
petty marauding and pilfe r ing of hen-roo s ts and
pig-pens are by the ski rmishers and fly ing scud s ,the bummers ofthe host . In giving al l a chance
for wealth , we mu s t not be surprised if some rich
miner’s spou se keep s her carriage , and smokes her
clay pipe as her thoroughbreds sweep her along in al l
the maj esty of a coach -and- s i x ; if some suddenlycreated millionnaire adorns with a necklace of gold
nuggets o r diamonds hi s favorite hound , o r takes su
preme del ight in seeing wife or daughte r sparkling
all over with flashing gems l ike a phosphorescent
wave ; if some substantial citizen gain s an entre'
e to
some foreign court , and , his early years having been
u nder s ome other master than a master of c e remo
n ies , he says even to the Pope ,“Well , o ld fellow,
how ’ s your wife and family ? Hope they are well ;o r to some royal exi le , as one of o ur well-meaning
citizens said to the exiled Louis Napoleon,who
spoke of having vis ited o ur country twenty years
before ,“ I hope , s ir, we may have the pleasure of
welcoming yo u there again . But what matters it
that there are some exuberances of taste , and a
boil ing -over of ind ividual id io syncracies of vulgar
ity and conventional di s re spect ? They are onlythe natural results of a want of cu lture that was
the normal state of the past .
At any rate , there has been in Ame r i ca no lavish
bestowment ofthe wealth , the land s , the honors , and
the educational means ofa people in order to give
SOCIAL TENDE N CIES . 229
an exaggerated cultivation and refinement to a privi
le g ed few . Grant Even that there be now a lack of
o rigi nal and genetic power i n the highest depart
ments of knowledge and art , ye t the average level
i s continually becoming h igher, and a better tone
pervades the common life , from generation to gener
ation . A nd the h ighest wil l come whenever the
superstructure beneath shal l be fi tted fo r i t ; the
dome shal l crown fitting ly the vas t cathedral of h u
manity ,—adome which only such walls could bear,
not those propped and suspended by artificial means .We want no elevation produced by compres s ion at
the s ides , bu t an elevation that comes from the bu ild
i ng up of the whole mass with so l id masonry and
arch itectural ski ll . The thought , the manners , the
education , the l iterature of ou r c ivi lization must be
based on the manhood ofthe whole people , on the
popular l ife , — working from foundation to top
stone, from seed to tree , from tree to fo rest . We
do not look fo r a few isolated and giganti c m on
archs ofthe plain , the su rvivors of companions long
since rotted away , perish ing in thei r feeble and
stunted growth , but fo r plantatio ns of noble trees
over vast areas of field and h ill - s ide , p rairie and
mountain-range, from the A tlanti c to the Pacific
shore .
Were they not so saddening , the wail ings over
th is state of th ings from that once glorious p rophet
of universal brotherhood , Carlyl e , would be highlyludi c rous . He sees only the going of democracyto complete itself in the bo ttomless , a free ra
230 S OCIAL TEA’DEN CIES .
cing , not i n shop-goods only , but in al l th ings tem
poral , Spiri tual , and eternal , a beautiful career to
be flung generou s ly open, wide as the portals ofthe
un iverse ; so that everybody shall start free , and
everywhere , under enli ghtened popular suffrage , the
race shall be to the swift, and the high office shall
fal l to him who is ablest , if not to do it , at leas t
to get elected for doing it .” But i s this , i n th e
main , so bad ? I s not this free and open career,this equal chance fo r all , what the ag es have been
striving after ? That the way to knowledge , the wayto wealth , and the way to hono rable po s i tion should
be not a narrow foot-path to b e trod by wayfarers
in single fi le , but a broad avenue wherein everyman can walk without j o s tling hi s fellow,
—i s thi s.to be sneered at and rid icu led ? In Sartor Re sar
tus there i s the following passage , worthy ofbeing
inscribed i n letters ofgold :
“ Venerable to me is the hard hand, crooked, coarse ;wherein
,notwithstanding, l ies a cunning virtue, indefea
sibly royal, as of the sc eptre of this planet . Ve nerable,
too,is the rugged face, all weather- tanned, be soiled, wi th
its rude inte ll ige nce ; for it is the face of a man l ivingmanlike. Oh
,but the more venerable for thy rudeness,
and even because we must p ity as wel l as love thee !Hardly- treated brother ! for us was thy back so bent,for us were thy straight l imbs and finge rs so deformed ;thou wert our conscript
,on whom the lot fel l
,andfight
ing our battles thou wert so marred. For in thee,too
,
lay a God-created form, but i t was not to be unfolded ;encrusted mus t it stand, with the thick adhesions and de
232 SOCIAL TENDEN CIES .
voked the A lari cs , the scourges ofGod, the besoms
of destruct ion . O r if there is to be salvation from
chaos , he thinks the nobil ity must practise rhythmic
dril ls with their peasantry and dependents (A lwaysh igher and l ower, never equality .) He wants th e
good o ld Engl i sh gentleman ” to appear again on
the scene , and servants’ and laborers ’ wages , at so
many shill ings a day , to be utterly aboli shed . He
recommends some combined rhythmic action” to
be introduced among laborers ; but mark the con
dit ion , for i t i ndicate s a great deal , always ,” he
says ,“ always to be instituted by some superiors
from above .
”And he goes on to say : I bel ieve
that the vulgarest cockney crowd , flung out milli on
fold on a Whit-Sunday , with nothing but beer and
dul l folly to depend on for amu sement, would at
once kindle into someth ing human if yo u set themto do almost any regulated act in common , and
would dismiss the ir beer and dull foole ry i n the s i
lent charm ofrhythmic human companionsh ip , i n the
practical feeling ,probably new , that al l ofus are made ,i n an unfathomable way, brothers to one another.
Now , h ow can men be made to feel that they are
brothers , unless they are treated i n a brotherlyway ? The
“ practical feeling wil l come , when the
fact is real ized , never before . The people are not
foo ls ; they are no t to be impressed very deeplywith the fact of brothe rhood th rough rhythmic
drill s and gingerbread , and smiles dispensed by
superiors from above . When the institut ion s
and the class feelings they cherish are d isso lved ,
s oGIAL TENDEN CIE S . 233
whether i n the weltering chaos of Niagara o r in the
warm atmosphere of a common humanity , the re
will be no need of spec ial dri lls from noblemen ,of special sugar-plum s from high-born lad ies , o r ofspecial grape-shot from kings .
But a notable phenomenon presents itself. These
supe r iors , who are alone to be intru sted with the
d irecti on of the rhythmic movement of th is dull ,vulgar set of artisans and laborers , — these high lyrefined men and gracious lad ie s have no rhythmic
combination ” to impart. Their condition,after
all , is not an enviable one even in the eyes of the i r
too devout worshipper ; for Mr . Carlyle goes on to
describe in pathetic terms the ir melancholy status
More than once ,” he says ,
“ I have been affected
with a deep sorrow and respect for noble soul s
among o ur aris tocracy , fo r thei r h igh sto ic ism ,and
silent res ignation to a kind of l ife which they in
d ividually could not alter, and saw to be so emptyand paltry . Has it then come to th is , that men on
whom fortune has lavi shed her choice s t favo rs ,hou ses i n town and hou ses i n the country , horse s
and parks , conservatories and yachts , galleries of
art and l ibraries , gardens and bank-accounts ; men
to whose education all the ages have been made
t r ibutary , and in whose behalf the mil l ions have
been s tunted and subsid ized ,— that the se men areto be re spected s imply for their stoicism , thei r
noble endurance under al l these harrowing burdens ,and their s tern resignation to leading “ empty and
paltry” l ives ? Yes , i t has come to this ; and i t
234 SOCIAL TENDEN CI ES .
must come to th is . Not even an Engl ish nobleman
can dodge the law of gravitation ; not even he can
escape the Operation of the social , human Nemesis .
If o ne member suffer , all the members suffer
with it ; and if all the members are suffering, how
shal l the one escap e ? A ccord ing to Carlyl e , to
accept the new civi lization is to “ shoot Niagara.”
Well,better that , if lkat i s the only way of right
ing things , with the assurance that what may come
after that plunge is j ust as much under the imparti al
laws of a universe that shines and rains on the just
and the unju st , as anyth ing that came before . But
obedience to thes e laws wil l make l ife so grand and
j oyou s that all the artificial and exclus ive forms of
ari stocratic p retence shall indeed seem empty and
paltry ,
” a dim shadow cast by the l ight which theyabso rbed but could not reflect .
The p resent condi tio n of English society is
treated by a prominent Review under the head of“ Social Disinteg rati on . This consis ts , i t i s said ,i n a want of personal acquaintance and intercou rs e
between the h igher and lower clas se s . Ofthese ex
tremes i n the body pol iti c the writer predi cates“ a
mutual ignorance , and an incapacity to understand
each other, that may almost be called dangerous .
Higher and lower cla sses - h e does not see that
they already understand each other too well . Theyu nderstand each other sufficiently well to know that
by no po ssibil ity can the gulfbetween them be fi l led
up with kindly inqui ries after one’s health and the
sick baby ; with o ccas ional d inners for the peas
236 SOCIAL TENDE N CIE S .
A further ind ication of the new order, and a deri
vation from the central principle of manhood,i s
the ideaof educated labor, —the reconci liatio n of
brain and hand , ofthought and wo rk , Not he is to
be envied who can point to his ances tor’s kingship
in the so cial realm , but he who has found h is wo rk
and takes del ight in doing it . The vas t needs and
opportunities , the open career for every talent and
faculty , invite to work for some noble and useful
end . To be a worker i n aught that m ini sters to
human benefi t is the best foundation forwealth and
po s it ion in the world . From no work-bench or
trade or employment is the pathway closed to h imwho follows the clew which industry , skill , and sci
ence put into his hand . I n the very place where
each man stands , there where h is foot is planted ,he can make al l the past tributary to his growth ;and from the sure basis ofNature and p ractical l ife
he can become the thinker, the inventor, the cap
tain of l abor, the master-workman , the founder of
some be nefic ent i ndustry , some wide-spreading
means of good . Fool ish notions of the pas t sti ll
trouble some foolish head s ; and manly work i s
ignorantly and—as they come afterward to seestupidly dodged . But the fact is patent that the
leaders sp r ing up from the ranks of to il , from a
youth nu rtu red in hardsh ip , from the healthy lap of
Nature , from those early thrown upon themselves .
Occas ionally , even in th is country , a su rvival of
the old c ivi l ization crop s o ut i n the word s “ lower
classes,“ the common mass,
” vulgar herd,” ser9)
SOCIAL TENDEN CIE S . 237
vile o ccupation ,” “ mere mechanic , etc . ; for o ur
system retai ns some of the vi rus of the o ldGreek
and Roman times , and of times not so very remote
in a la rge part of the United States , when to get
one ’s honest l iving by labor was to be a slave ;when no one performed manual labor but s laves
,or
the sons of s laves . But the all-pervading sp irit ofo ur modern civili zation renders it more and more
impossible to separate learning and labor,art and
every-day practical l ife . The new civi l ization i s not
th e separation ofthought and work , but their recon
cil iat ion and atonement ; i t i s not a pampered man
of letters on the one hand and a sordid drudge on
the other, but a harmonious development of brain
and hand , of body and mind. So far as th is ten
deney becomes real ized , l ife gains i n breadth , —inextent ofservices rendered and services received ; in
fulness ofasp irati on , and in earne s t devotedness .
Says an inqu irer into social i sm1
The democratic movement is just beginning, and it israther early to pass sentence upon it but of this at leastwe may be sure, —that the people who think that the democ racy consists [alone ! ofvote byballot, and that everything else wi ll proceed in the old style, will be grievouslydisappo inted .
No , i t will not proceed i n the o ld sty le ; neither
wil l it proceed in the sty le of the anarch ists of to
day , or in that of the early French Revo lutionists ,
1 An Inquiry into Social ism. By Thos . Kirkup . Page xxi i i.London, 1887.
238 soGIAL TE NDEN CIE S .
i ntoxicated as they were with the fi rst vintag e of
freedom and equali ty . That fi re has not indeed
burned i tself out, but i t has burned up th e brush
wood and the combu s tible materials on the surface .Yet the central fire remains ; and i n i ts heat the
huge s tructures of evi l will be dissolved , and higher
form s of social l ife wil l be the heri tage of the
coming gene ration s .
The forces now at wo rk are not to be judged
of by the outbursts of a few enthusias ts enamored
with their own plans , with their own short-s ighted
view of human h is tory and human development.They mu s t, indeed , speak thei r word ; but deeper
voi ces, l ike the sound of many waters , are uttering
wo rd s of better cheer.
What are some ofthese encouraging aspects ?
Fi rs t, there i s the tendency to give free and unre
stricted action to natural and social laws ; and these
carry with them their own redeeming power. A s
the domain ofNature pas ses over to man , what were
once exclus ive benefits become diffused among the
many as a common po s ses s i on ; the universal heri
tage enlarges for every man . As obstruction s are
removed , the new o rganizes i tself, and needs no in
te rfe re nc e of theoretic system s or rhythmic plans .The organizati on itself i s beyond human insight
o r human skill , but i t is gradually be ing developed .
The tendenci es of our modern c ivi lizati on ne c e s
sarily increase , at every s tep . the mutual depen
dence of man upon his fellow-men . Society i s
becoming a netwo rk in which the minutest thread .
240 soGIAL TENDEN CIE S .
to our present system, sends out all boys and g irls, richand poor, trained in eyes and finge rs as well as brain , forsuccess in l ife.
“The pauper and neglected children shou ld be place don a farm, where in cottages containing not over thirtyinmates
,and under the charge of superintendents who
could teach different branches of industry, they might
g row up with the least possible inst itu tion taint .“ The street comm issioners need strong impulse in
favor of modest streets for the homes of plain people
in suitable locations .“ The welfare of the working-classes needs to be con
sidered with devoted attent ion .
Th e hours of labor can be shortened,especially
where skil l,education, or the use of machinery aids
the workingman .
Many smal l play-grounds for children should be pro
videdthroughout the city.
”
Now,al l th is i s i n the direction which a true
civi l i zation po ints out, and whether particular meas
u res are expedient or not remains to be determined
by those whom the peopl e elect t o do their bid
ding . But a force , which no conservative V iew of
the l imitations of municipal power can turn as ide ,tend s i n the directi on of doing what may be done
fo r the common benefit.
But,l astly , the modern social tendencies are the
di rect outgrowth of the spirit of Chris tianity i tself.
Fifty years ago I said i n an oration on the oneness
of Chri s tianity and Democracy : The humbl e
flower has found many to interpret its s ilent lan
SOCIAL TENDEN CIES . 24r
guage ; the stars have had thei r propheti c seers
to unfold their mysteries ; and now the common
of every-day l ife , the desp ised of every-day l abor,have found their p riests , and in Chri stiani ty thei r
secret is revealed . A true democracy and a true
Christian i ty are one .
”
X III.
THE NATION AS AN ORGANISM IN
SHAKSPEARE .
MR. MULFORD says that the very condition of
p ol itical science is the apprehen s i on of the tru th
that the nation i s an organism .
” I t is indeed a
vital n ecess i ty in the present phase o f economic
thought ; and i t may not be out of place to show
how something of th i s organi c l ife reveal s i ts elf in
Shakspeare’
s universal drama . Not that Shak
speare consciou s ly proposed to h im self any such
thesis , or had in V iew any such social ends as maybe made o ut to be the dr ift of some of hi s char
acte rs and representations . But every tru ly great
arti s t i n accompl ishing one end accomplishes manyothers . He presents un ive rsal truths , and expresses
w i thou t being aware of i t tho se vital relation s which
could not by any poss ibi l ity have been with in the
range of consciou s vi s i on Thu s Shakspeare i s
the unfolder of the organic l ife of the nation or
State , and hi s personage s cannot l ive and act with
ou t reveal ing something of common membership
and of national u nity .
This great dramati st look s upon the State as an
organ ic body ,—a social form deriving its powers ,
i ts duties , its very l ife-blood from the one spi rit
244 THE NATI ON AS AN ORGANISM
Oh . when degre e is shaked,Which is th e ladde r to al l high de signs,Then ente rprise is sick
So the key-note of h istory is s truck in Richard
where the summary is made ofwhat the suc
c e eding plays detai l with such dramati c force :
011 , ifyou raise this hous e agains t this house ,Itwil l th e woe full e st div ision proveThat e ve r fe l l upon this curs edearthPrevent it, re sist it, let i t notbe so,
Le st child, ch i ld’s children, cry against you woe
No Greek drama , with its ancestral fate , has ever
portrayed in deeper colors the law ofsocial re tribu
t ion immanent in the l ife of succeeding generations .The difference between that government which
i s a social organi sm , a l ivi ng unity , and that which
is a mechanical contrivance made up of pieces that
can be dealt with separately , i s plainly seen i n
Shaksp eare . He treats the State as a common
weal,a living ‘body , no part ofwhich can be punc
tured or disturbed without d is turbing all the others .
Every part, to insure health , mu s t work in harmonywith every other part . Each organ , tissue , mu scle ,and nerve mu s t obey the common impulse to main
tain circulation and reach the end of complete l ife .
No organ has an independent agency. A s a states
man says in Henry
For gove rnment, though h igh andlow and lowe r,Put into parts, doth ke ep in one consent ;Cong re e ing in afull andnatural close ,Like music .”
IN SHAKSPEARE . 245
Sti l l fu rther to unfold the vital nature of the
so cial organ ism , its essential oneness , under the“ d ivers functions ,
” i s i l lustrated from the honeybees ,
Creature s , that, by aru le in Nature , teachTh e act oforde r to apeopledkingdom.
”
In a monarchy the king is the head , and no onecan harm him without bringing the whole king
dom i nto desolation ,” as Henry says . But the sym
pathy between the different members of the same
body , however named , is the point to be consid
ered . There i s nothing i n the mere name of king.
Shakspeare i s not dazzled by the gl itter ofroyal sta
tion ; manhood is as essential to the king as to anyc itizen . His pre—eminent place , i ndeed , cal ls fo rpreeminent strength and attract ive power . The mere
outside is nothing ; the ti tl e brings with it a com
p ensating trouble . As Brakenbury moralizes on
the s ituatio n of the Duke Clarence ,
Prince s have but th eir t itle s for th e i r g lorie s,An outwardhonor foran inwardtoil ;And, for unfe lt imag ination,
The y often fe e l aworldof re stle ss care s . 1
This deposition of the king as a fetich , and this
proclamation of a common humanity appear from
two quarters as oppos ite as the poles , and ye t
each utterance converging to the same point,King Richard I I . and King Henry V. The former,faithless to every kingly duty , ye t fondly trust
ing that the very stones of his native kingdom will
1 R ichard I II ., act i . scene 4.
246 THE NA Tl ozv AS AN ORGAN ISM
have a feeling in hi s behalf, and rise up , armed
soldiers,to fight fo r him
,although he himself has
alienated every soldie rly heart , asks how theycan cal l h im king, i n
“ whose crown death keep s
h is court,
” who suffe rs hunger and thirs t l ike
o ther men,and who feels want and tastes gr ief.”
Inasmuch as he is subj ect to these human l imita
tions,he asks : “ How can yo u say to me I am a
king ? How ,i ndeed ? And so he gives the
pride of kingly sway from o ut his heart , and
washes away with his tears all o aths of allegi ance
and fealty,
With mine own tongue deny my sacredstate ,Wi th mine own breath re lease all duty
’s rite s .”
Sti ll further to unfold the lesson that a kingdom i s a
kingdom only when“ law , form , and due p roportion
are kept, there is that s tr iking scene between the gar
dene r and his servants , where he says to them ,
“ Cut offth e h eads oftoo fast g rowing spraysThat look too lofty in our commonwealthAll must be e ven in our gove rnment .
”
Andafterward thi s wise gardener says ,
BolingbrokeHath se i zedth e waste ful king . Oh what pity is it,That be hadnot so tr immedanddre ssedlzis landAs we this garden !
Here is a memorable lesson out of the book of
royal duties , to be taught by a player from his
248 THE NA TI ON AS AN ORGAN ISM
V . ,i s ready to d ie , alone , honorably with the king .
Every nerve within h im thri lls with the feeling that
he i s a king .
The queen ’s son , poor Clote n, in“ Cymbeline ,
find s th is out when he come s in contact with o ne
i n whom,as Be larius says , divine Nature , the god
des s , blazons he rself.” The clothe s-horse and the
man thus reveal them selves :
Yie ldth e e , thie fa
’
de rias . To wh o to th e e ? What art thou Have not IAn arm as big as thine ? ah eart as big ?Thy words , I g rant, are bigg e r ; for I wear notMy dagg e r in my mouth . Say what thou artWhy should I yie ldto the e ?Cloten. Thou villain base , knowe st me notby my cloth e s ?Guiderins . N0, nor thy tailor , rascal ,
Who is thy g randfath e r : h e made those clothe s ,Which
,as it se ems, make the e .
”
They proceed to fight, and he in whom the divine
goddess Nature blazons herself,” cuts off the head
ofthe clothes-dummy and throws it i nto the creek,with the contemptuou s words ,
Let it to th e sea,
Andte l l th e fish e s h e ’s th e que en’s son, Cloten.
That ’
s all I re ck .
”
And when told that on account of his dead fo e
being a prince , reverence for his high place should
l ead to a princely burial , thi s peerles s son ofNature
accedes , but says i n h is off-hand way, o ut of an
invisible instinct,”
1N SHARSPEARE . 249
Pray you , fe tch h im hithe r.The rs ite s ’ body is as goodas Ajax
’
,
Wh en ne ith e r are alive .
”
But Shaksp eare goes further than the verbal
s tatement that mankind reduced to a state ofpure
nature find one common level : he puts kings and
dukes them selves upon the stage stripped of all
thei r digniti es and ce remonies , and glad to find
refuge in the meanest hut and'
on the dirti est straw.
King Lear, the representative of purely arbitrarysovereignty , shaking off all cares and bu s iness on
younger strength , expects s ti l l to keep all the cere
monies , sti l l retain the name and al l the additions
to a k ing .
I t cannot be . I n uncloth ing h imselfof the king
dom he d ivested h imself of all power, and became
involuntari ly a subj ect to that“ Nature” to whose
law Edmund voluntari ly bound himself as his god
dess . The latter rebels agains t “ that plague of
custom , that “ cu ri osi ty of nations , o r, in other
words , that s trict ru le of c ivi l institutions which
made him , as an i llegitimate son , no lawful heir of
his father’s dukedom Fine word , leg itimate l”
he exclaims ; he will trust to his own wit, and ifhis“ i nvention thrive ,
” and “ the gods stand up for bas
tards ,” he wil l prosper to his heart
’ s content. No
ceremony shal l stand in the path of hi s advance
ment . He fights it out on this l ine , with a cou rage
and an inventive grasp worthy of a better cau se .
He fai ls ; forwhat is the wit ofone man against the
omn ipotent laws of social o rder ? What is th e
250 THE NA TI ON AS AN ORGANISM
keenest intel lect agains t the on-st r id ing Nemes is of
outraged mo ral o rd inance ? He who hold s i n pos
ses s i o n halfthe kingdom , ofwhich Lear had dispos
sessed h im self, falls by the hand of a peasant- s lave ,who rises i n hi s manhood to plead agains t cruelty ,
and hinder his prince from tearing o ut the eye of
the helpless Duke Glo s ter. “ A peasant stand up
thu s ? exclaim s the Duke Cornwal l in d isgu s t and
anger, as he runs at h im with hi s sword ; but he is
h imself s lain , for he“ takes the chance of anger,
”
and throwing away all the advantag e which cere
mony gave him , s tripped naked of that , —h e
goes to the wall as the infe ri o r man . Upon the
three daughters of the king poison , steel , and the
hangman’s ropes how all their natural as well as
social virtues , and they peri sh by death s as miser
able a s ever beset the meanest of vi llains and the
lowes t of slaves .
Now , what have we here ? A quarry ofdead game
to please the bloodthirs ty taste of that bloodthirs tyage ? A holocau s t ofvictims to satiate the degraded
craving of that London popu lace which saw men ’s
ears and no ses s l it , their head s cut o ff, their bodies
burned and expo sed to to rtures that cannot now be
described without making the flesh c reep ,—whichsaw all this no t on the mimic stage alone , but in real ,every-day l ife ? No ; here we have one common
theme,—man freed from social bond s ; man re
duc ed to and fal l ing back upon his natural , savage
instincts ; man with none ofthe defence s that o rgan
ized society—with laws , well ordered government,
252 THE NATI ON AS AN ORGAN ISM
I n this play the entire order of th ings is sub
verted . The social state is turned topsy- tu rvy ; the
king is forced from the wild natural elements to
seek the shelter of a hovel,after fleeing from his
own child ’s inhospitable roof into the waste and
storm-pelted heath ; the would-be friend , givingway to impatient anger, becomes th e worst offoes ;the loyal , virtuous son ofwealth and stati on assumes
the vilest garb and name , and can only save hi s l ife
by abjuring home and name and reason itself;and in tell ing what he will do , he but describes
what was a common sight in Shakspeare’
s own
time, the glorious E l izabethan age :
My face I’ll g rime with filth ;
B lank e t my lo ins ; e lfall my hai r in knotsAndwith pre sentednakedne ss out-faceTh e winds andpe rse cutions ofth e sky.Th e country give s me proof andpre cedentOfbedlam beggars , wh o with roaring voice sStrike in the ir numbedandmortifiedbare armsPins , wooden pricks, nails , sprig s of rosemary ;Andwith this horrible obje ct, from low farms,Poor pe lting villag e s , she ep-co te s andmil ls,Some time with lunat i c bans, some time with praye rs,Enforce the ir charity .”
So low is th is scion ofa dukedom reduced , that he
welcomes even the assumption of a false name ,Poor Tom is something , Edgar is nothing,
”
In thi s universal subve rs ion , the fool is the onlywise man , and the madman the only sane head ,the p ivo t upon which the final success depend s .
1N SHAKSPEARE . 253
The fool knows why a man’s no se stands i n the
middle of his face ; why a snai l has a house ; whyth e seven stars are no more than seven ; and what a
man will l earn by going to school to the ant . A nd,
withal, the fool is loyal as well as wi se : he serves
for love and not for gain . He s ings ,
“That sir which se rve s andse eks for gain,Andfo llows butfor form ,
Wil l pack wh en it begins to rain,And leave th e e in th e storm .
But I will tarry ; th e foo l wi ll stay,Andlet th e wise man fly :
Th e knave turns foo l that runs away ;Th e foo l no knave , pe rdy.
No knave , and no fool ei ther ; for he sees in his
g l immering way a moral , or universal lesson , i n this
particular case , and he draws that moral :
Th e man that make s h is toeWhat h e h i s h eart shouldmake
Shall ofacorn cry woe ,
Andturn h is sle ep to wake .
A foo l ’s doggerel , i ndeed, but pregnant with all
the wisdom of modern social eth ics . From the
earliest times , society has made a toe of what
should have been the heart ; and i t has cried o ut,
and is at intervals cry ing out, because ofthe tender
corn which is affl i cti ng it wi th spasm , and which
d isturbs its sleep .
“You are the great to e of th is
assembly ,
” said the aristocratic Menenius to the
254. THE NA TION AS AN ORGAN ISM
loudes t of the popu lar rabble ; but that great toe ,the real heart of Rome , trodden upon and trodden
upon fo r ages , became at las t gangrened , and the
whole body succumbed to death .
Shaksp eare has given u s in his world-wide re
p resentation two social i nsurrections , that of
Rome in the third century of the city ,
1 and that
headed by Jack Cade in the fifteenth century of o ur
era .
2 They are both put down , not by a righting
of the wrongs and mi series of the rabble , but bythe pressure of a foreign war, and by that appeal
to patriotism agains t a foreign nation which has
always quel led the fiercest domestic troubles . The
o ldbarrel , ready to fal l to p ieces , i s hooped together
by thi s device ofuniting against an external enemy.
Jack Cade ’s final exclamation , when the fickle rabbleme nt shout for the king and Clifford , who is to
lead th em'
against France , is ,
Was eve r feather so lightly blown to and fro as thismul titude ? Th e name ofH enry the Fifth hales them toan hundre d m ischiefs
,and makes them leave m e desolate .
In desp ite of the devi ls and hel l, have through theve ry midst ofyou And Heavens and honor be witne ss
,
that no want of re so lution in me, but only my fol lowers’
base and ignom inious treasons, makes me betake me tomy heels .
”
I n Coriolanu s , the cry of the suffering plebs is
wel l vo iced . When appealed to as g ooa’ cit izens
,
”
1 Coriolanus, act i . sce ne 1 .
2 He nry VI . Part i i . act iv. scene 8.
256 THE NATI ON AS AN ORGANISM
l ife of the whole ; and the life of the whole inter
penetrates and sustains each individual organ or
part . The king, s eparate and isolated , has no
power o r even existence in himself; the lowes t and
meanest part, while organical ly related , has a meaning i n Nature , has a right to be , and shares i n the
universal l ife . The mo s t potent ind ividual ity cut
off from this l ife i s lost as a moral force . Corio la
nus , the hero ,—the towering, proud , self-sufficientisolated peak ,—can only d ie . Mr. Mulford says ,
I
“ When Caius Ma rcius tu rns to the crowd in Rome
and denounces them as the detached and disorgan
izedrabble , in whom there is nothing ofthe organi c
unity of th e people , the disdain of th e Roman is
i n the word s , Go , get you home , you fragments !
But h ow i s i t with the disdainful patri c ian himself?Does not this very d isdain cut ninz off from com
munion with hi s fellow-c itizens , and is not there
the beginning of his own fragmentary'
sp1it ? The
patric ian was no more the nation than the mobo
cratic c itizen . Had this rabble j oi ned in a bodythe Volscian host, where would have been the na
tion ? Coriolanus j oined it, and the nation stil l l ived ;he was but a fragment ,
” and so he perished .
At that pe r iod of regal flattery , of royal absolu
tism, of adulating homage , Shakspeare speaks the
word that p ierces through the h igh-flown fo rms and
reveals man as he is in h imself. No wonder that
Vo lta ire is disgusted with a poet who can make a
1 The Nation, p . 10.
IN SHAKSPEARE . 257
queen say of herself, when addressed in deepest
g ri efby her attendant as empress ,
N0 more , but e’en awoman ; andcommanded
By such poor pass ion as th e maid that m i lks,Anddoe s th e meane st chare s . ! 1
I n that age , when the idea of man as man had
found no embodiment in word even , when human
rights were nothing, and privilege and rank were
all , Shakspeare makes h is king say ,—and from
the mouth of a king the expression would eas ilyescape comment : “ The king is but a man , as I
am ; the violet smells to h im as i t doth to me ;all h is senses have but human conditions . And
that wel l-known pas sage , s ince become a common
place in the mouths of all , but then a strange
sound of humani ty pleading fo r the recognition of
oneness : “ Hath not a Jew eye s ? Hath not a
Jew hands , o rgans , senses , affections , pass ions ?Since that time th is gl ittering general ity has
become o flic ially proclaimed ; but almost all be
l ieve it to be only some fl i ckering from the blaz e
of the nether p it, or some artificial l ight, electric or
otherwise , which now flares up dazzl ingly, and now
leaves a blacker darkness as i t fl i ckers ; and that
at any rate , i t wi l l be totally extingu ished before the
clock str ikes twelve . Few believe in it as the sun
about which all the planets of th is our social ex ist
ence are turning, and which i s to work out revo lu
1 Antony andCle opatra, act iv. scene 15.
1 7
258 THE NA TI ON AS AN ORGAN/SM
tions greater than ever science or ph ilosophy has
dreamed . The true manhood of man i s the prob
lem that is to be solved ; to th is every discoveryi n science , every stroke of the steam-engine, everyadded mean s of education , every beat of the great
human heart, is advancing from hour to hour .That a nation i s a l iving organism , Shakspeare
’
s
clear conception becomes more and mo re mani
fest ; and if i t i s a real , organic form, one part
cannot be tu rned from o r hindered in i ts proper
function without the entire organism being there
by affected . A s our phi l osoph ic poet says,
Let our fing e r ache , anditindue sOur h eal thful membe rs e ven to that s enseOfpain .
”
Social effort , to-day, is based upon this funda
mental truth , —the oneness of humanity as a l iving organi sm . Says a careful th inker ,
1 Not each
nation only , but the whole human society , ana’er t/ze
conditions w/zic/c now prevail , i s a vast organism ,
a body of many members with a mutual l ife .” I n
Shaksp eare'
s day it was not possible to see th is
o rgani c l ife of the human race , for the present conditions d id not exist . But the organi c l ife of a
nati on Shaksp eare did see , and he unfolded it with
wonderful clearne s s .
I n 1825, in h is Nouveau Chris tianisme,Saint
Simon advanced this ethical statement as the re’
same of the teachings of Christ ' “ A ll should labor
6 Inquiry into Social ism . By T. Kirkup . P. xxiv.
THE COMMON REASON IN SOCIAL
REFORMS .
THE principle ofsocial progress may be formulated
in these words : I t is to give the common reason
free p lay in the family , the school , the Church , and
the State . A ll advance has been in th is d irection .
Ifwe look at the pas t , we shall see that the great
secret of al l blundering , all harmful legis lation has
been the endeavor to p romote some private and
partial end ; to carry o ut measures to increase0th e
prosperity ofsome o ne cla ss o r cl iqu e , some special
order, in which the good only of some one part of
society was supposed to be wrapped up . Hence
the greater part of legis lation , to-day , shou ld aimat the removal of those restrictions which in the
past have been imposed upon the many i n the
interest of the few ,—ih o ther words , to promote
the highest good of the whole body pol itic .
Plato , with no conscious l imitation of view in
order to secure exclusive advantages to a special
class, but to secure what he thought was for the
highes t benefi t of the cbmmonwealth , ordained that
there shou ld be a servile class , and that laborers
and artisans should not be rega rded as c itizens,or have the rights of citizens . Such also was the
COMM ON REASON 1N SOCIAL REFORMS . 26 1
view of A ristotle i n h i s model State . Not unti l
the Ame r i can democratic State was established , did
the essential manhood of every man become the
bas is of all legis lation and al l polit ical arrange
ments . It was the victory of the common reason
al l along the l ine ‘
of man ’s relation to the State ,and the State ’s relati on to man .
But let u s l ook at the real meaning of th is term ,
common reason , which is something more than
what is ord inari ly called common-sense . Buckle
says that“ every step in the progres s of s cience i s
a contradiction to common- sense He means that
science is continually revers ing the appearance of
th ings to the senses ; and so it i s . Ifwe take the
testimony of the eye alone , the sun goes round the
earth ; the moon is as large as the sun ; the sky is
a dome over our heads ; and the c ity-bo s s the verymainspring of al l politi cal movement. But this is
only the appearance to the sen ses , until the intellect
co rrects i t , and gives us an insight into the true re
lations of th ings i n the mate r i al and soc ial world .
The co mmnnis sensns—better named the com
mon reason ” i s the verd ict made up not by one
faculty alone . If there i s something else that e n
ters into Nature and life than the impre s s ion made
upon the senses , then that someth ing else must
be called into play before a true j udgment can
be pronounced . There is something else ; and
when there i s the consensus , or agreement, of all
the human facul t ies , then is common-sense exe r
c ised. To l imit i t to what commends itself to
262 THE COMMON REASON
v ulgar eye , ear , and touch is to violate the ve ryconditions of its existence at all . I t i s th e har
monio us adj u stment of al l the faculties in the acknowledgme nt of the real fact.
Man has senses , by which he takes cognizance
of external things ; he has understanding, by which
they are arranged in orderly sequence and depen
dence ; he has moral perception , by which the relative value and different relati ons to what is u seful
and beneficial are establ ished ; he has also spiritual
perception , by which al l these are conj o i ned and
subordinated in obedience to a pervading sp iri t ofwi sdom and love,—and the harmonious exp ressiono f al l these faculti es i s common-sense , o r the ‘
vox
De i . ’
Ifany one takes precedence , no'
matte r how
authoritative be the expression , the universal ityo r c ommonness
'
fails . The vo ice of a maj o ri ty ,
however large , if i t i s the voi ce of a particular
faculty alone , is one -sided , partial , disorde rly ,—vox
Diabol i, not vox Dei. A people includes , repre
sentative ly ,al l these faculties ; and if any one pre
dominate , whether the priesthood o r the masses ,the scholars o r the artisans , there i s d istraction
and d isorder. There are es tates of the realm , and
no one estate mu s t govern exclu s ively . How the
fi rs t estate governed was shown before th e French
Revolution ; and how the th ird , after its outbreak.
Every parl iament or congres s o r general as semblyi s an attempt to get at the consensus communis of
the entire body of the nat ion .
That there is a collective wisdom far superior to
264 THE COMM ON REASON
i n no formal statute . I t is the presence ofwhat maybe called the common orunive rsal reason . A s the
sp iri tual Fenelon says :“ It is not myself, for i t re
proves and corrects me agains t my wil l . This reason
is the rule of my reason ; and from this every wise
man is i nstructed .
”
This also i s the great rule no t only for the individual , but fo r the social order and common l ife . In
social order, neither anarchy nor despotism can e udu re , but each i s modified and restrained by th is con
troll ing influence . Amidst o scil lations from abnor
mal tastes and one- s ided tendencies , thi s omnipotent
element as serts itself, bringing chaoti c s trivings into harmoniou s adj us tment . A s the atmosphere is
always tending to pu rify itself, and come into the
cond ition ofrelative proportion of gases needed forsound lungs and healthy breathing, so in the social
world the mois t humors are absorbed , the chil l mis ts
are s catte red , the acids di luted , and effervescing
substance s compounded into neutral salts , while the
wo rk ofreacti on and ebull ition i s never at an end .
Partie s and sects are bent upon making eve ry man
breathe pu re oxygen , but Nature knows better than
that . She tolerates for l ong no exclu s ive sys tems ,l aughs at al l panaceas , and qu ietly sets her veto on
all perpetual motions . Science wou ld reduce the
wo rld to a laboratory ofcrucibles , reto rts , and ma
te rial atoms , while p iety would make i t a cell for
monkish asceticism . The intellect wou ld analyze ,dissect , and questi on without end , while faith would
accept everything , bel ieving the more fervently as
1N SOCIAL REFORMS. 265
the incredibi l ity increases . But there is a re gulat
ing principle which pe rmits no violent tendency to
continue unobs tructed , and which when the machine
revolves too rapidly fo r safety shuts off the steam ,
balancing a Luther with a Loyola, conservatives
with reformers , eyes looking toward s the sunset
with eyes gazing into the brightening dawn .
I n education , see h ow speedily extreme theo r i es
are brought to a level and abso rbed into the gene ral
circu lation , all the good being ass imilated as nutri
ment into the sys tem . Heated brains and abno rmal tempe raments , wild philanthropists and zealou s
theorists broach the ir one -sided proj ects , and then
are heard of no more . But much that is good
remains , and enters into l ife . At one time it i s al l
study of the languages , and at another of science ;now al l must be play, and now al l hard wo rk ;now everything must be made plain , and now s tated
only i n bares t outl ine ; now al l mu s t be lecture , and
now al l les son . A better culture is demanded for
the body ,a better train ing fo r the phys i cal man.
Then theorists start up with thei r special systems ,enthus iasts of one idea follow out their pecul iar
methods ; and soon each fall s into partial neglect .Base-ball becomes a profess i onal knack ; foot-ball , a
brutal melee of muscle and brawn ; rowing , an un
natural training of a few , and a competi tive strain
ing even to complete o rganic col lapse . But step bystep
,steadily and surely , the young are brought
upon a higher plane , the h ighe st thought i s enlis ted
in discovering the best methods oftraining , and the
266 THE COMM ON REASON
results ofvaried experiences are diffused and made
avai lable . I n o ther word s , the invis ible regu lator,the common reason , has the final say .
This final d ictum of the common reason prevails
i n some cas es where we should scarcely expect to
see it . Not with impunity can any one cl ique o r
party ,any one sect or school , claim to be the
exclus ive depo s itaries of tru th . To as sert such a
claim i s to become separate from humanity , and
to cut oneself off from the universal inspiration .
This may be seen in what appear, at firs t s ight,to be provinces the farthest removed from any
such danger. Said once a learned soli citor-general
of England , i n the House of Commons , i n regard
to law reform :“ I must warn the House , if they
attempt legal reform s , that they must not al low
lawyer after l awyer to get up and tell them that
they are not capable ofunders tanding the subj ect.They might depend upon it that if they could not
reduce a legal propo s i tion to the plain principles of
common-sen se comprehens ible to persons of ordi
nary intell igence , the defect was that it was a tech
nical system inve nted fo r the creation ofcosts , and
not to p romote the administration ofj usti ce.” This
is in harmony with what an eminent professor of
j urisprudence (Professor Grote) says : Law is the
public reason of a society participated in , more or
less , by the mass of i ndividuals .
We may say , indeed , of all s ciences , —exceptthose involving the h igher mathemati cs , —that ifthey cannot be reduced to universal principl es com
268 THE COMMON REASON
create justi ce ; but ju stice creates the law, ofwhich
i t i s suppo sed to be the embodiment . Ju s ti ce is the
divine real ity , and abi de s i n the soul s of those who
seek to make it a concrete , actual thing . Back of
all S tate enactments is that j u sti ce whi ch i s un iver
sal and d ivine,which give s them thei r ju s tificati on
and the ir fo rce . A calm , philo sophi c observer says
o f the legislation of Great Britain at the present
time ,
The revolution which is be ing effe cted in due course
of law is the gradual but comple te transference of thesource of leg islation from the se lect rul ing portion of
soc iety to th e whole body of the people. Instead of law,
as ofold, flowing down from king , lords, and commons tothe people
,law is now impe lled in an upward flow from
th e people to the commons, lords, andmonarch.
” 1
So it is with the higher philosophy . True phi
lo sophy ,
”it has been said , accepts , as given , the
great and indes tructibl e convicti ons of our race ,and the language in which these are expressed ;and in place of deny ing o r obl iterating them , she
endeavors rationally to explain and ju s tify them .
” 2
Su ch i s the work of philosophy to-day in everydepartment, — not rudely sneering or deny ing , butseeking those broader statements which underl ie
every universal conviction from the earlies t h is to r i c
times. The old philo sopher Heraclitus said that “ i t
behooves us al l to follow the common reason of the
1 Th e Pol it ical L ife ofour Time . By D . N icho l . Vol . 11 . p . 336.
2 Blackwood’
s Magaz ine , April , 1838, Consciousne ss.”
IN SOCIAL REFORMS . 269
world rather than private and ind ividual idiosync rac ie s ; and th is i s tru e in art , i n l i teratu re , i n everysphere in which universal p rincipl es of t ruth and
beauty manifest them selves . The final ve rd ict in
the ages is made up from the consensus oftho se who
are exponents ofth is universal wi sdom , o r reason .
Goeth e uttered many a maxim pregnant with
wi sdom , but nothing wiser than when he said ,“ The best way to preserve o ur common- sen se is
to l ive i n the universal way with multi tudes of
men .
” The anchorite and the nun become e xc e ptional , and they pay the penalty . The martyrs are
not always martyrs to truth and righteousness , but
often to their own one -sided interpretati on oftru th ,and sometimes to thei r own self-asse rt ion and self
conceit. It i s a nice line that separates the pure
impersonal devo tion to princip le from the love of
singularity , the des ire fo r self-prominence and self
extens ion . Pretentious vanity , exclu s ive assump
tion , even under the garb of s ingle-minded service ,gets persistently rebuffed , and wonders why i ts
claims are so coldly met o r contemptuously re
je cted. Why should such well-meaning exertio nand earnest good-will not meet with a better re
ward ? The sufferer does not
i
se e ; for he does notperceive that his own atmosphere envelopes tho se
with whom he comes in contact, and that thi s atmo sph e re is one of offensive personal assumption ,pe rhaps of exclu s iveness and contempt. We used
to hear, more than we do to-day ,the woman earnest
for reform j eered at as strong-minded ; and charges
270 THE COI’IIMON REASON
were made as to the color of her stockings , when
ever a woman was suspected of knowing a l ittle
more than the average man . I have sometimes tried
to think that this was the growling way which s ome
men had of expres s ing their bel ief that the h ighes t
womanly excellence is a loving heart predominati ng every other faculty , original or acqu ired . The
good mascu line souls did not want the fair creatures
to become “too good fo r human nature
’s daily food .
”
I t was not for woman’
s i nterest, you know, and wo
men would be the greatest sufferers from it in the
long run ! Well, i t is a woman .who gives this
charming description of Mrs . Somervil le , as “ not
dwelling aloof from common men and women , but
throwing herself into the interests of those around
her , convers ing with each in h is or her own way ;being the kindest and pleasantes t member of so
c ie ty ,—a sad stone of stumbling to those who
delight to depict that heraldic creature the strong
minded female ,’ and to those who have e stabl ished
i t as a fact that the knowledge ofEucl id is incom
patible with the domestic affections .”
In regard to the social relations and duties of
woman , common reason has had , at last, something
to say . I t seems now so much a matter of course
for men and women to s it together, study together,and work together, that we forget from what she
has been rescued , i n spi te of the protests of th e
colossal intel lects and the g reat minds i n Church
and State , —that chosen remnant ” of the great
and good , so dear to Matthew A rnold’s heart . Why,
272 THE COM /VON REASON
perior wit. He gives up h is own l ife , and so
receives the l ife of all . True, true everywhere
i s that u tterance of Fichte ,
Whatever a man may do, so long as he does it fromhimself
,by himse lf, and t/iroug/z his own counsel, i t is
vain, andwi l l sink to nothing . All things new,great
,and
beautiful which have appeared in the world since its be
g inning, and those which wil l appear until its end, have
appeared andwill appear through the divine or [commonhuman! idea.
”
The pet notion , the pecul iar theory , however
grand,however expressive of personal and indi
vidual power, comes to nought . That which em
bodies the ideas of beauty , of j ustice , of wisdom
which a re in all souls must endure so long as
that which insp ires them , and that from which
they draw, conti nues to endure .
“ I t i s character
istic of the highest truth ,” says one , to be acce s
s ible to common minds , and inaccess ible only to
ambitiou s ones .
” 1
Here , now, we strike the key-note of Shak
speare ’s greatness and lasting power. He has no
id iosyncracy, no favorite string, no recurr ing strai n
from his own individual likes and disl ikes ; no
p et theory of man o r woman ; no special cau se
or doctrine to advocate , whether i n Church o r
State. He g 1ve s every one a chance to speak
through him , as if he were simply the conduit
for his or her individual being . Hence he is the
1 The Se cre t of Sv edenborg . By Henry James.
I N SOCIAL REFORMS . 273
interpreter of humanity and not of any particu lar
clas s o r cl ique , o r of odd specimen s of men and
women . He hits the golden mean . Mr . Blackie
sums up the eth ics o f A risto tle thus :
V i rtue is a medium, a balance, a proport ion, a sym
metry, a harmony, a nice adjustment of the force of eachpart in reference to the calculated act ion ofthe whole.”
Now, Shaksp eare makes the disturbance of thi s
balance , th is harmony , the theme of all h is tragedy,whether as appl ied to the general State , the Com
monwealth , o r that ind ividual State , that private
common-weal of which each man i s a citizen,and
in which he ought to rule . To preserve th is bal
ance is the secret of al l happiness , of al l true well
be ing .
“ It i s no mean happiness to be seated in
the mean ; supe rfluity come s sooner by white hairs ,but competency l ives longer,
” this i s the leading
theme , with infinite variations .
This wisdom comes not from any i ntellectual
elevation , but from a dramati c sympathy with hu
manity i n i ts various developments . It is the e th ics
which l ives in those proverbs that grow up , one
knows not how or where , i n the heart of the people ,and finds expressio n in the maxim that embodies
the experience of enti re generations . Its power
is in its universal ity and its commonness . It i s the
wisdom of al l ,—that communis sensus which , after
all , is the highe s t and the last appeal . No man can
be wiser than humanity ; and as the exponent of18
274 THE COMMON REASON
th is purely human , universal (and because humanand un iversal , also divine) wisdom , Shaksp eare re
mains u nreached and alone .
In admitting this , Rume lin,
1 who loses no oppor
tunity to depreciate Shaksp eare , real ly concedes to
him,while depreciating him , the h ighest claim as a
moral ist ; and he can but grant the vas t superio r ityof Shaksp eare , i n th is respect , over Schi ller and
Goethe . “ Their maxims , he says ,“ occupy a
different sphere ; and Goethe’s , especially , res t
upon an ind ividual point of view wholly foreign
from the folk-wisdom . I n Shakspeare , on the
contrary , we perceive a noteworthy trai t of con
genial ity with this spirit of the people , not in anyo ne pecul iar directi on , but i n that wisdom as a
whole.
” What greater prai se could be given to
Shakspeare’
s ethi cal genius ?
I t i s indeed worth the while to study th is body of
natural divinity , as i t may be called , wherein the
concentrated wisdom of humanity l ives in forms
to wh ich the h ighest intu itive perception , united
with the mo s t genial poetic power, has given an
enduring embodiment . These thickly strewn say
ings sound often l ike quoted proverb s , but they are
from Shakspeare’
s own mint ; as ,
Thrift is ble ss ing , ifmen steal it not.“To bear with eye s be longs to love
’s fine wit“Will is deaf, andh e eds no he edful friends .Itis an h e re tic that make s th e fire , noth e whi ch burns in
’
t.”
1 RUMELIN : S/zakspeare Stud/en , p. 166.
276 THE COMM ON REASON
Shapedby himse lf with newly-learnedart,A wedding orafe stival,A mourning or afune ral .Andthis hath now h is heart,Andunto this h e frame s h is song ;Then will h e fit h is tong ueTo dialogue s ofbusine ss, love , or strife .
But itwil l notbe longEre this be thrown as ide ,Andwith new joy andprideTh e little actor cons anoth e r part,Fill ing from time to time h is humorous stageWith all th e pe rsons down to palsiedag e ,That Li fe bring s with h er in h er equipage ,As ifh is who le vocationWe re endle ss im i tat ion.
”
That free joy and sympathy with eve ry fo rm of
being ; that abandonment to the impression of Na
ture and l ife which gave ris e to mythology, and
which is the sou l of al l the creations of everychi ld
,- this gave us the Shaksp earian drama , with
all its lessons of the truth that l ies at the bas is of
every fact and ofevery emotion .
Because of the influence of th is common reason,we find that in l iterature the best su rvives ; that
evermore there i s a winnowing process going on
by which the sol id grain is saved , and the dus t
and chaff and l ighter matter are sent whirl ing into
the great cavern of forgetfulness , never again to
mis lead o r vex human souls . What is th is grand
winnowing mach ine on which there is no ' patent
for exclusive u se , and from which there i s no
possible way of escape ? Time , you say . But
IN SOCIAL REFORMS . 277
time is only the name given to a success ion of
changes . There i s no such entity as t ime ; but
there is a communis sensus , a d ivine reason , im
manent i n human things and human souls,which
fo rever acts , and from which there is no appeal .This common reason of the world is expres sed
,
too , i n its p roverbs , which sound the entire gamut
of human experience . In the derivatio n of the
word proverb ,” there is the recognition ofthis re
lation to a un iversal wisdom . When a man u ses
such a say ing , he uses pro verbo (ins tead ofhis own
word) every man’s word : he does not carry his
own special lantern , but opens a shutter and lets i n
the sunlight ; he merges self i n the all-comprehend
ing self of humanity ; he utters not h is individual
truth , bu t the conviction of h is fellows . So , too ,with the legends , the sagas , the mythologies of all
nations : they are not the product of a few wise
heads , select l i terary students , o r rare scholars ,but the product of a Un iversal Intelligence , whose
depth s no man has sounded , waifs cas t upon the
shore by the al l-surroundi ng ocean of truth ; reve
lations made by a general dayl ight, not by any
number of coruscating meteors o r winking stars .
This communis sensus , then , this d ivine reason in
the community, is the real source of all social
development ; and , as it is trusted to , i t gives a
cheering confidence in the accomplishment, not
perhaps of our short-sighted schemes , but ofal l the
purpo ses of higher good that we cherish for o ur
selves and o ur fellow-men . The fine scholar t ru s ts
278 THE COMM ON REASON
in the few trained souls and in the chosen few .
“ The mas s of the people ,” says one of England ’s
ripest scholars , “ look for gu idance in pol i tical as
in other matters to their natu ral social leaders,to
their ari s tocracy .
1
Any gove rnment founded on the
idea that people ever do , or ever can , govern them
selve s i s a delusion . But what shall we poor
sou ls do who have no a ri sto cracy ? My social
leader i s he who will reveal to me the truth,and
awaken withi n me any dormant powe r . The l ight
by which I see , if I s ee at all , comes to me not
from any special train ing ; but it has i l lumined and
judged and set its seal o f approval o r c ondemna
tion upon every book , every teacher, every word .
A nd th i s l ight i s i n me becau s e it i s in every man ;and therefore when I th ink of th i s great American
nation , ofwhich I also am glad to be a part, I say of
it what a Cathol ic lady , a member of the French
nobili ty , once said of th e French nation in one of
its po litical cri ses ,
This people has shown itself so amenable to reasonin so many difficult circumstance s, that I bel ieve in itst rue progress . All the confidence I have rests on thispubl ic reason, which has no proper name of its own
,but
which we have seen concentrate in itself alone resolution !
and strength .
”
The people to get only the guidance which comes
from their natural leaders ! But what ifth is supe
rior po s i ti on and select t raining are the very obs ta.cles which shut these leaders ’ eyes and close the ir
280 THE COMMON RE ASON
How it is that well educated princes, who ought to be
ofall gentlemen the gentlest, and of all nobles the most
gene rous, and whose t itle of royal ty means only their
funct ion of doing eve ry man ‘right ;’ how i t is that
these,throughout history, should so rarely pronounce
themselves on the side of the poor and of j ustice ;how it come s to pass that a captain wil l die with hispassenge rs, and leaning over the gunwale g ive the depart ing boat its course ; but that a king wi ll not usual lydie wit/z, much le ssfor, HIS passenge rs, thinking it rather
incumbent on them,in any numbe r, to die for him,
think, I beseech you, of the wonde r of this ! ”
Yes , let us th ink of i t . Who are these princes
and kings ? Persons cut off from any vital connec
tion with the rest of humanity. There was a time
when Shaksp eare could make hi s king say , a king
who was ready to die with and for his fellow-Eng
lishm e n , The king, too , i s a man l ike you .
” But
i s i t any wonder that when his office has become
merely aperfuncto ry one , when all his vi rtue con
s ists i n hi s aloofnes s from the common herd,and
when from the earl ies t moment he has been taught
that he is ofbetter stuff than other men , is it anywonder that he should feel it incumbent on him to
preserve by al l mean s that del icate and precious
porcelain , while the coarse clay—pots may l ook outfo r themselves ? To -day something else bes ide s
the accident of bi rth determines who shal l govern
the sh ip , the factory , the railway, and the chu rch .
How would the divi ne right ofbi rth answer here ?Then , further , i t i s treason and dis loyal ty to refu se
IN SOCIAL RE FORMS . 281
to serve the king ! But is i t not equally treason and
dis loyalty fo r the k ing not to serve the people ?Yet how can he se rve them when a different l ife
stream flows th rough his veins fo r which dif
fe rence he must pay the penalty. Mr. Ru skin does
not see why a poor king should be excu sed, be
cau se Mr . Ruskin himself has no beliefi n the com
mon reason ofhumanity , but only i n the inst itutions
of the past . He once gave a fine definition of a
noble war : A noble war is one waged simply for
the defence of the country i n whi ch we were born ,and fo r the maintenance and execution ofher laws ,by whom soever threatened o r defied .
” Very good ;but h ow was i t , dear C r i ti c , that yo u left no occa
sion unimproved to scoff at our country when she
poured o ut her treasure and her blood to maintain
and to execute her laws , threatened and defied ?
Why was your vis i on then darkened ? A las ! youbelieved in what you called the divine right ofborn
gentlemen , not i n the human right ofGod-insp i red
men ; yo u bel ieved in the privi leged greatnes s of
the few , not in the might ofall . You had no bel ief
i n the people as the instrument of that wondrous
power which evermore sweeps over i ts tremblingstrings !
More wonderful than even the most wonderful
vis i onary dreams will be the accompl ished facts , if
the universal p r incipl e s ofjustic e ,o rder, and human
sympathi es are ever fully embodied i n the everyday l ife and work , —j u s t as the wonders of steam ,
of the magnet, and of electric ity now surpass th e
282 COMMON REASON IN SOCIAL REFORMS .
wildest fancies of the A rabian Nights . Social pro
gress has but j ust begun ; for the common reason
of humanity being hithe rto i n abeyance , men have
never ye t combined their efforts for the happiness
and well-being of al l .
But the trend of all h istory is i n that d irection .
The energy and science and practical skil l of the
human race are to be employed in the service of
common reason , if not of philanthropy ; and then'
will be more than real ized the most enthusiasti c
dreams of social welfare . Read the account of
some Woolwi ch arsenal with its hundred spreading
acres ; i ts s i xty steam-engines ; i ts miles of shaft
ing ; i ts running gear for a thousand compl icated
machines ; i ts ten thousand workmen, all bu sy i n
making engine s of ru in , engines to be u sed for
destroy ing human l ife and lay ing waste the resul ts
of human industry ,—and say what shall come to
pass when the re shal l be the combi ned and scie n
tific adaptation ofski ll and mach inery to the benefi t,and not to the harm , of the human family !
Mos t heartily do we agree with Professor Jowett,the learned translator of Plato and of A ristotle,that “ there i s no absurdity i n expecting that the
mass of mankind having the power in thei r own
hands , and becoming enlightened about the higher
pos s ibi li ties of human l ife , when they come to see
how much more is attainable for all than i s at
present the po ssess ion ofa favored few , may pursue
the common i nteres t with an i ntell igence and per
sistency which the world has not yet seen .
”
284 H IS TOR Y AS DE VELOPMEN T.
stitutions . Ifthere were no recorded h istory , there
could be no con t i nu ity of social l ife and no con
sc iousne ss ofahigher destiny . Hi s torical develop
ment is s imply man’
s growth in ind ividual ity and
freedom . I n an O riental despotism there is but
little individual ity ; al l look al ike and act al ike , as a
school of he r r ing o r a herd of buffaloes . At the
oppo s i te extreme i s a true democracy , where each
man i s di stinctly himself, and in obey ing the univer
sal will obeys consciou s ly the common reason em
bodied in his own thought .
In the so -called democracies ofGreece and Rome
and the Italian citi es , there was nothing like the form
of society which we have arrived at to-day . It i s
futi le to point to them now, and say that we have
no more surety of surviving than they . The demo
c rac ie s of the past were but another form of exter
nal government ; they were not the developments
ofthe Spiritual nature of man , becoming embodied
i n the only form adapted to inherent , l iving powers .
That our form ofgovernment secures to us the mo s t
and the greatest material advantages , i s not the chief
claim which i t should have in o ur eyes : while i t
does thi s , i t does infinitely more . But ifwe cou ld
have ten times the material good secured to u s bya rrangements in which we had no participation , we
should rej ect such an external bountifulness ; for i ts
price would be o ur manhood and our free conscious
ness , —in other word s , of our capacity for growth
and indefinite progre s s . To be complete up to a
certain point, and to have this completeness formed
H IS TOR Y As DE VE L0PMEN T. 285
fo r u s from without, would be to reduce u s to the
range ofmere animal ins tinct ; and t/Iere we should
remain fixed forever . But his to ry shows us that
man has fo rever been making mis takes ,—sad mi stakes , foolish mis takes , wicked m istakes, —ye t that
he has had the abi li ty to correct these mi stakes , to
become as i t were a new c reatu re , alive with the l ife
ofthe creative sp i ri t . This is the only progress ; and
this is the process unfolded i n history .
A s s imply a fo rm ofrepress ive government to im
pose regu lations from without, to restrain and di rect
men , a democ ratic fo rm of government may easilybe the poorest of all forms . But as the embodi
ment of the con scious reason abiding in the social
body and seeking an expres s ion for i tself, a demo
cratic form is the only fitting one . Whatever social
changes may be needed to embody perfectly the
universal l ife , tho se changes wi ll come , mu s t come ;for the divine in man mu st find a development i n
every word and work . The infin ite ocean mu s t flow
into eve ry c reek , i nlet, harbor, and bay . All the
sphe res of education , law, art , and indu stry must
become organi c forms of harmonious l ife .
I n th is l ight ofhi sto ri cal development, al l the so
c ialistic plans mu s t be looked upon as u tterly i nad
equate and incomplete , becau se they cut away the
ve ry veins and s inews through which man is related
to the universal l ife : they destroy ind ividual ity and
freedom ; they reduce men and women to an indis
tinguishable mas s . They would do for man and
over man what mu s t be done by h im and through
286 H IS TOR Y AS D E VE LOPMEN T.
him . Yet every sociali sti c demand is a recurringadmonition that we are what h i s tory shows u s to
be ,- members of one common body , receivers of
one divine life .
For thousands ofyears the human race has been
toi l ing , scheming, th inking , aspiring, embody ing as
it could , from day to day , its vision s and its plans .I n the social wo rl d have been contests as great
,
struggles as vas t , as have ever taken place i n the
natu ral and phys i cal u nive rse . I s any one man
adequate to say what shall be the crystallization
t o take place from this mingling of subs tances ?E ach of u s can imagine some state of th ings
which should be without th is annoyance o r that
pain, in which the re should be no disease , no sor
row, no ill , —fo r to dream i s the eas iest of th ings.Looked at a ri ght , the hi sto ry of humanity i s the
story of aspi ration rather than of accomplishment .What finally has been accomplished has been fardifferent from what often was aimed at , and fargrander than was ever dreamed . Great Britain
started a commercial company to gather in the ru
pee s of India, and now a vast empire i s committed
to her gu idance and her rule . Our forefathers
thought to find a place where they could worship
unmoles ted,and build up , after thei r own ideal pat
tern , a l ittle ves tibule to heaven ; but an indwell ingspi rit, wiser and more far-seeing than all , thwarted
thei r narrow plans, and built up this Wes tern temple ,i n wh ich al l the creed s ofChris tendom and Heathen
dom al ike should find a home .
288 H I S TOR Y AS D E VELOPMEN T.
So in humanity itselfthere is the elimination , step
by step , ofwhat belonged to a lower stage ofdevel
o pme nt; and though there may be ca rr i ed along
with the advance many of the rudimentary organs ,they have ceased to dominate the life o r make es sen
tial a special method ofexistence . Outgrown shells
are left behind ; u seless appendages are dropped .
Feudalism was once the bes t form in which h umanity could find expression fo r i ts needs ; i t was
a natural , orderly, and benefic e nt crys tall ization of
the des i res , hopes , and ideal s of the time ; hamlet
and village shelte red themselve s under the prote ction ofcastl e and feudal lord . But when trade and
commerce grew up , when the middle classes asserted
their r ight to be , the castle became a den of rob
bers , an incubus upon the earth . So monastic in
stitutions , - the natural and spontaneou s product
of social and spiritual needs in special conditions ,were once a bles s ing and were blessed . But that
peculiar need has passed away , and monasti c walls
and monastic rules remain only to warp and pervert
man ’s higher aspirati ons ,— to witnes s useles s mortifications , half-believing prayers , and si lent curses
of dehumanized devotees . When privi leged clas ses
or orders only suck up the life-blood of humanity,
when they render no service i n retu rn , they mu s t
y ield thei r place ; for to retain the privi leges and
Shirk the price by which alone they were bestowed ,what is thatServi ce to humanity is the condition of every
form of embodiment in social l ife. Through priest
HIS TOR Y AS DE VELOPMEN T. 289
and lord , through merchant and mechanic , through
sold ier and artist, humanity seeks to unfold its owni nner l ife , i ts i ndwell ing capacities of l ove and wis
dom . Hence there must be many attempts before
the final success ; the re must be defeats before anygreat victory is attai ned . That h is muscles should
be made strong is the real prize that the gymnas t
wins ; that h is moral powers should be unfolded is
worth more to a true man than any external suc
cess ; and that humanity sh ould have heroes , mar
tyrs , and saints is better than selfish comfo rt and
bes tial content . Therefore the way of progress is
not s trewn with flowers ; the ascent is s teep, the
friendly stars seem hidden . Great sacrifices to be
made call forth the great souls to make them . In
numerable l ives must pay the price ofvictory ; and ,as Guizot says ,
“ i t i s only after an unknown number
of unrecorded labors , after a ho s t of noble hearts
have succumbed in d i scouragement, convinced that
the cause is lost,i t is then only that the cause
triumphs .
”
Men sometimes see thei r best efforts thwarted,and the good that has been sought for with infi
nite toi l seized upon a s a mean s of harm . The
l iberty for which pure hearts labored and prayed
is sometimes turned into l icense ; the truth hailed
as the dawn of some glorious day becomes a thick
pal l over the midday sky ; the banner on which pure
hands have wrought , which tears have consecrated ,and the morn ing l ight has seen thrown out j oyouslyto the breeze , i s borne aloft at evening by the
1 9
290 HIS TORY AS DE VE LOPJ I E N T.
advancing hosts of anarchy and c r ime . But has
naught been gained ? Has not defeat been the
mean s to a success greater than was at fi rs t
d reamed of
To the physi cal world great cycles of ages alone
suffi ce fo r some new stage of growth ; and why be
impatient for the moral and social world ? Ideal
truths belong to a realm of infinity ; and what maybe the special good accomplished th rough thi s o r
that mean s no human ins ight can determine . Oneman ’s failure may be as needful as another
’s success .
He who always succeed s i n what he attempts maybe sure that in hi s attempts no grand ideal pu rpose
i s i nvolved . I t i s noble to fai l i n some great cause ;i t i s noble to fai l where one
’
s aim is so high that
one short life i s all insufficient to realize i t i n his
human envi ronment ; i t i s divine to have aspi ra
tions so great and p r inciples so broad that onlyages of the coming time shall look upon them as
accomplished facts . But has any good cau se ever
fai led In one place and at one time it may seem
to have fai led , to have d ied and been buried . But
no man and no people have labored fo r good utterlyto no purpo se . When the flower per ishes , the seed
i s scatte red ab road and the harves t sp r i ngs up ,though perhaps i n di stant lands . How I love ,
”
says A lfred Vaughan ,“ to find examples of that
con sol ing truth that no well-meant effo rt fo r God
and man can ever really die ! that the rel i cs of
vanished , vanquished endeavors are g athered up
and conserved, and by the Spi r i tual chemistry of
292 H IS TOR Y AS DE VE LOPMEN T
was reported to have carried from region to reg i on .
”
And that we have such an inheritance of rich and
manifold elements from the pas t—all ages and al lgeneration s— i s the su res t pledge of a grand de
ve lopment not hitherto attained .
Life has always been rich , potent , and ass imi
lating as i t has been the resultant of complex ,numerous , and manifold component elements . One
individual , one tribe , one nation , of i tself and byi tself, has l ittle capacity for growth and progress .
Hellas owed its fuller development to the varietyof i ts constituent germs ; Rome , to its power of
assimi lating and incorporating different elements ;England , to the movements resulting from the con
tests , the action and reaction , of races , classes, in
te re sts , and occupations . And America to-day is
proj ecting in colossal form what these display in
miniature . The very i dea ofuniversal h isto ry forces
itselfupon u s from our conditi on as a nation . What
a commingl ing here of all that mother earth has
produced of blood , language , rel igion , industry ,
sci ence , and art ! Our national l ife i s a heated fur
nace to melt into a glowing mas s the rough ores
that are poured into i ts open mouth , to be hard
ened and tempered into s teel. The number, the
diversity, the free play , the interacti on , of phys i cal ,social, and moral influe nc e s , — no one can imaginei t ! Can the result be other than a human development broader than has ever before been witnessed ?
A true cosmopolitanism must be the is sue of a
variety of elements so rich and manifold , subo rdi
H IS TOR y AS DE VE L0PMEN T. 293
mated and moulded as they all are by the one
p rinciple of i ndividual manhood , the common at
mo sph e re of freedom to think , to speak , to worship ,and to vote .
Hitherto war, i nvasion , and trade have been the
rude means by which the s tagnant pools have been
sti rred and the incrusted surfaces have been broken
up . But to-day the relati on is more d irect. The re
i s action and reaction bet ween the remotest parts ofthe globe . Each portion ofthe race begins to feel
its need ofall the others ; each to be aware, i n some
way however faint and imperfect, that it can pro
mote the prosperity ofall by being faithful to i ts own
peculiar service . That phrase “ oneness of human
ity” has been uttered . The spiritual ph i lo sopher
proclaims that the whole human race exis ts as o ne
man before God Daniel Webster said , from h i s
position as a s tatesman : Each nation has the same
interes t i n the preservation of the laws of nations
that each individual has i n the preservation ofthe
laws of his country . Neve r befo re could such a
sentiment meet wi th such a universal response as
now , when the broader the sentiment the more e u
thusiastic i ts reception . A common consciou sness
is awakened by the common life , and an event that
deeply touches one people touches some cho rd s of
sympathy i n every people’s heart. Walls and bar
tiers fal l down ; myste r ies become open secrets ;the wisdom of the wise is inherited by all ; the
results of i ndustry and thought are brought to a
common mart , and will be more and more freely
294 HIS TORY AS DE VE LOPMEN T.
interchanged between people and people ,—everyi nvention pas s ing from mind to mind and fromhand to hand .
Does it indicate nothing that humanity now rises
above the horizon as the ideal ofhuman soul s ? To
know man , hi s faculties, his wants , his h indran ces,and his help s , th is is education ; to love him and
labor for him ,—th i s is rel igion ; to impart to h im
b eauty i n every sphere of l ife , — th i s i s art ; to e n
rich him and add to hi s means of comfort and well
being, —th is is i ndu stry . F rom this ideal the s ti r
ring life ofthe p resent takes its tone , i ts d irection ,i ts real force. Genius build s method s of education ,not ri tuals and elaborate ceremonial s ; arranges na
tional exh ibition s , not fields of golden cloth where
monarchs spend the income of thei r subj ects ; c on
structs palaces for the million , not luxurious abodes
for a king. I t devises amel iorati on for human suf
fe ring , not Splendid pageants of Oriental adoration .
The vital efficiency ofeve ry movement i s i n propor
tion to its enthronement o f this ideal. The “c ry
ofthe human i s not from some sol itary dungeon ,o r from some one grand martyr upon the cro ss ;i t comes from the field s and the streets , from the
church and the workshop , from the college and from
legis lat ive halls . The demand fo r the removal of
soc ial hindrances , fo r a j u s ter d istributi on of the
profits of i ndu stry , for u niversal education , for the
rel ief of suffering and want , i s i n conformity with
this ideal , and so must receive a fitting re
spouse ; for no ideal that has insp ired human ity
296 HIS TOR Y AS DE VE L0PME 1VT.
i n the natural world is there absolute rest. Even
when the eye seem s to look out upon an unvary ing
landscape , great alterations are taking place , c on
tine nts are forming, mountains are upheaving, ocean s
are changing their bed, , each particle ofsolid rock i s
i n motion , lakes are fi ll ing up , fores ts are growing,deserts are becoming gardens , and prai ries are becoming populou s citi es . i Th e old is ever passing
away , and the new is emerging. The cau ses that
produce revolutions are ever at work ; the earth
quake i s gathering force , the volcano i s dy ing o ut.
So bel iefs are becoming obsolete ; power is changing
hands ; new faiths are s tudding the firmame nt of
man’ s l ife . This continual movement in the uni
verse Goethe thus enunciates
Itmust go on , creating , changing ,Through endle ss shape s foreverranging ,Andre st we only seem to se e .
Th e e te rnal l ive s through all revo lving ,For all must eve r ke ep disso l vingWould i t continue stil l to be .
”
Cowper has also well stated it
Constant rotation of th e unweariedwhe e lThat Nature ride s upon maintains h er health ,He r beauty
,h er fe rt i lity . Sh e dreads
An instant ’s pause , and l ive s butwh i le sh e move s .
Long ago Plato said , Everything mortal i s pre
served,not by i ts being
,
i n eve ry respect the same
forever, but by the thing that i s departing leaving
H IS TORY AS DE VELOPM EN T. 297
some new th ing l ike itself, and this is tru e ,though every external form , eve ryth ing possessed
of the insti nct of l ife , sh r inks from thi s renewing
power, distrusts the spi ri t, hardly bel ieving that i t
can furnish a better habitation, fai rer scenes , o r
more beautiful form s . To this persistent mutabil
ity and perpetual change we owe the idea of one
sp iri t o f humanity , one absolute order, one p e rva
s ive wisdom , o ne ruling mind . We see that no
development i s independent and alone ; no condi
t ion has inherent force i n itself ; no being has
essential permanence and life . A ll events are re
l ated and dependent ; and all the doings ofthe race
mu st be referred to a common unity , one source
of order and l ife, o ne i nspi r i ng spiri t of humanity,
one power accomplishing through infinite changes
its vast des igns .
To arrive atsome final goal in truth and at com
plete happines s and well-being wou ld b r ing to an
end all development or progress , and so would be
death . I t i s essential that an ideal goodnes s ,beauty , truth , should stil l lure us On. Whatever
form of these is attained will not completely satisfy ,
but as contras ted with that ideal wil l always appear to lack some perfection , and wil l at length be
called evil , and when it once comes into the con
sc io usne ss as evil , i ts doom i s sealed . To feel one’
s
i gnorance i s the first step to knowledge ; to feel
one ’s imperfection i s the beginning of a nobler
l ife . So with social evi ls, o r those institutions and
general methods of l ife which are seen to work
298 H IS TOR Y AS DE VEL0PME IVT.
evi l and not good to the organization that we call
the commonwealth , —when once they are seen tobe evil s , the re is no lasting peace unti l they are
brought into harmony with the new and higher ideal .A s that future i s also the hei r of the infinite
,ou r
present good may wear to i t the form of evi l .The discoveries ofour day i n science and art are
wonde rful , but the ideas which underlie them are
more wonde rful sti l l . Railway and telegraph are
great as mechanical i nventions , but greater i n what
they sugges t and symbolize , the inte rc ommunica
t ion of national thought and l ife . How impossible
for them to have existed in any known period of
the past ! What scope can there be for i nventive
geniu s under the p rotection of ab solute power and
the enslavement ofman ? What field fo r the free
play of human facultie s can exi s t among poor and
ignorant mas ses , to i ling for bare subs istence when
they can be spared from the battle-fie ld? What
opportunity can be offered for combined action
when the re i s no mutual confidence and tru st ?The external results and phys i cal wonders ofour era
point to something higher than themselves , and are
far more wonderful as i nd ication s than even as facts .
They are a pledge of mental , moral , and spiritual
condition s that mu s t accompany the mechanical and
exte rnal benefit.
In a recent book on Power and Liberty, Tol
stot rightly calls h istory a sc ience of the move
ments ofpeoples and ofhumanity , not a desc r iption
ofepisodes in the live s ofa few men .
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