for life, who may properly be for the time self-centered, selfdevelopment makes but a sorry ideal. We may admire a Goethe who cares primarily for the development and perfection of his own powers if he is handsome and clever and of a winning personality. But the men we really love and reverence are those who forget themselves and prefer to go, if necessary, with their artistic sense undeveloped or their scientific sense untrained, so they may bring help and peace to their fellows.1 Goethe, with all his genius, encyclopædic knowledge, and universality of experience, his wit and energy and power of expression, stands on a lower moral level than Buddha, St. Francis, Christ.

(4) Finally, the theory, if taken strictly, is immoral. To set up self-realization as the criterion is to say that the selfrealizing act is to be chosen even if it should produce less than the greatest attainable total good. That such cases do not occur, no one can prove; in fact, observation tends to the belief that they do. This criterion is, then, not only practically but theoretically selfish.

Perfection of character should be our aim, yes. But perfection of character is not to be found in a mere indiscriminate cultivation of whatever faculties we may have. It means the superposition of a severe discipline upon our faculties, a purification of the will, directed by more ultimate considerations.

Is the source of duty the will of God?

"Obedience to the will of God" describes the highest morality, as does the phrase "perfection of character." But is

1 Cf. a recent story-writer, Nalbro Bartley, in Ainslee's (a mountainwhite is speaking): "I reckon the best way to get on in this world is to learn just enough to make you-all always want to know more but to be so busy usin' what you-all has learned that there ain't no time to learn the rest!"

it, any more than that, the ultimate justification of morality? Is the will of God the source of morality? An adequate discussion of this question would involve a philosophy of religion, but a few considerations may be useful, and it is hoped, not misleading.

(1) How can we know what is the will of God except by considering what makes for human welfare? Our Bible is but one of a number of holy books which are held to be a revelation of God's will. Even if we grant the superior authority of the Hebrew-Christian Bible, can we rely on its teachings implicitly? How do we know that it is a revelation of God except by our experience of the beneficence of its teachings? As a matter of fact, there is wide disagreement, among those who accept the Bible as authoritative, over its real teachings. A text is available for every variety of belief. Christians usually emphasize those texts that make for what they hold true, and slur over others. "Look not on the wine when it is red" is preached in every Sunday School, while "Take a little wine for thy stomach's sake" is seldom quoted save by brewers. The Bible, the work of a hundred hands during a span of a thousand years, represents a great variety of views. It is certainly an inspired book if there ever was one; so much inspiration could not have come from it if none had gone into it. But to extract a satisfactory ethical code from it is possible only by a process of judicious selection and ingenious inference. The Mosaic code is held by Christians to be now abrogated; the recorded teachings of Christ are fragmentary and touch only a few fundamental matters. How, for example, shall we ascertain from the Bible the will of God with respect to the trust problem, or currency reform, or penal legislation? Times have changed, our problems are no longer those of the ancient Jews; a hundred delicate questions arise to which no answers can be found in Scripture.

(2) Suppose the will of God to be clearly and unquestionably known, why should we obey it? Because He is stronger, and can reward or punish? If that is the reason, the freehearted man would defy Him. Might does not make right. If God were to command us to sin, it would not be right to obey Him. On the contrary, we should sympathize with Mill in his outburst:("Whatever power such a being may have over me, there is one thing which he shall not do: he shall not compel me to worship him. I will call no being good, who is not what I mean when I apply that epithet to my fellow creatures; and if such a being can sentence me to hell for not so calling him, to hell I will go."1

It is clear that God is to be obeyed only because He is good and his will right. Not the existence of a will, but its goodness makes it authoritative. But how do we know that it is good unless we have some deeper criterion to judge it by? How do we know that God is not an arbitrary tyrant? The answer must be that we judge the Christian teachings to be a revelation of God because we know on other grounds what we mean by "right" and "good," and see that these teachings fit that conception. If the teachings were coarse and low, no prodigies or miracles would suffice to attest them as God-given; it would be superstition to obey them. Experience alone can be judge; the experience of the beneficence of the Christian ideal. The Way of Life that Christ taught verifies itself when tried; that it is the supreme ideal for man is proved by the transfiguration of life it effects. Christ and the Bible deserve our allegiance because they are worthy of it; from them we can learn the secrets of man's true welfare.

Morality is, indeed, older than religion. It develops to a certain point, and in some cases very highly, without the concept of God. It has an obvious human function and 1 An Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy, chap. VI.

value and needs no supernatural prop. Religion is not the root of morality, but its flower and consummation. The finest ideals, the loftiest heights of morality, merge into religion; but even these spiritual ideals have their ultimate root in the common soil of human welfare, and are rational ideals because they minister to human need.

For the "categorical" theory of morality, see Kant's Theory of Ethics, tr. Abbott; F. H. Bradley, Ethical Studies; F. Paulsen, System of Ethics, bk. II, chap. v, secs. 3 and 4; Dewey and Tufts, Ethics, chap. XVI, sec. 2; H. Spencer, Data of Ethics, chap. ш, secs. 12, 13. W. Fite, Introductory Study of Ethics, chap. x. H. Rashdall, Theory of Good and Evil, bk. 1, chap. v.

For the "according to nature" theory, see Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, passim; Rousseau, Discourse on Science and Art, etc.; J. S. Mill, "Nature," in Three Essays on Religion; T.H. Huxley, Evolution and Ethics. T. N. Carver, The Religion Worth Having.

For the "self-realization" theory, see T. H. Green, Prolegomena to Ethics; F. Paulsen, op. cit., esp. bk. 11, chap. II, secs. 5-8; H. W. Wright, Self-Realization; J. S. Mackenzie, Manual of Ethics, 2d ed., chaps. Vi and vii. W. Fite, op. cit., chap. XI.

For theological ethics, see any of the older theological books. A brief comment may be found in H. Spencer's Data of Ethics, chap. IV, sec. 18. Bruce, Ethics of the Old Testament, chap. I. H. Höffding, Philosophy of Religion, p. 328 ff.

CHAPTER XIV

THE WORTH OF MORALITY

BEFORE proceeding to a more concrete unfolding of the difficulties and problems of morality, it will be well to formulate our theory in terms of modern biology, and then, finally, to answer those modern critics who reject not merely the rational explanation of morality but morality itself.

Morality as the organization of human interests.

The worth of morality is most commonly defended to-day, in biological terms, by describing it as a synthesis of human interests; it is valuable because it is what we really want and need. It does, indeed, forbid the carrying-out of any impulse which renders impossible greater goods; it flatly opposes that unrestrained satisfying of a part of our natures which we call self-indulgence, or of one nature at the expense of others which we call selfishness. But it stifles desire only for a greater ultimate good; it rejects that needless repression of a part of the self which we call asceticism, and an undue subordination of self to others. It is, then, the organizing or harmonizing principle, subordinating the interests of each aspect of the self, and of the many conflicting selves, to the total welfare of the individual and of the community. As Plato pointed out,1 morality is not a new interest, but the

1 Republic, bks. I-IV; e.g. (444): “Is not the creation of righteousness the creation of a natural order and government of one another in the parts of the soul, and the creation of unrighteousness the opposite?" and (352): “Is not unrighteousness equally suicidal when existing in an individual [as it is when it exists in the State], rendering him incapable of action because he