books.  I have not the slightest sympathy with most of his ideas; they seem to me misinterpretations of evolutional teachings; and if not misinterpretations, they are simply undeveloped and ill-balanced thinking.  But the title of one of his books, and the idea which he tries always unsuccessfully to explain,—­that of a state above mankind, a moral condition “beyond man,” as he calls it,—­that is worth talking about.  It is not nonsense at all, but fact, and I think that I can give you a correct idea of the realities in the case.  Leaving Nietzsche entirely alone, then, let us ask if it is possible to suppose a condition of human existence above morality,—­that is to say, more moral than the most moral ideal which a human brain can conceive?  We may answer, it is quite possible, and it is not only possible, but it has actually been predicted by many great thinkers, including Herbert Spencer.

We have been brought up to think that there can be nothing better than virtue, than duty, than strictly following the precepts of a good religion.  However, our ideas of goodness and of virtue necessarily imply the existence of the opposite qualities.  To do a good thing because it is our duty to do it, implies a certain amount of resolve, a struggle against difficulty.  The virtue of honesty is a term implying the difficulty of being perfectly honest.  When we think of any virtuous or great deed, we can not help thinking of the pain and obstacles that have to be met with in performing that deed.  All our active morality is a struggle against immorality.  And I think that, as every religion teaches, it must be granted that no human being has a perfectly moral nature.

Could a world exist in which the nature of all the inhabitants would be so moral that the mere idea of what is immoral could not exist?  Let me explain my question more in detail.  Imagine a society in which the idea of dishonesty would not exist, because no person could be dishonest, a society in which the idea of unchastity could not exist, because no person could possibly be unchaste, a world in which no one could have any idea of envy, ambition or anger, because such passions could not exist, a world in which there would be no idea of duty, filial or parental, because not to be filial, not to be loving, not to do everything which we human beings now call duty, would be impossible.  In such a world ideas of duty would be quite useless; for every action of existence would represent the constant and faultless performance of what we term duty.  Moreover, there would be no difficulty, no pain in such performance; it would be the constant and unfailing pleasure of life.  With us, unfortunately, what is wrong often gives pleasure; and what is good to do, commonly causes pain.  But in the world which I am asking you to imagine there could not be any wrong, nor any pleasure in wrong-doing; all the pleasure would be in right-doing.  To give a very simple illustration—­one of the commonest and most