Prejudice is, indeed, a vice in the most serious sense of the term.  It is more damaging and corroding in its effects than most of the evil habits which are usually described by that term.  It is destructive of judgment and devastating in its effect on the mentality because it is a symptom of a narrowness of outlook on the world.  The man who can learn to outlive prejudice has broken through an iron ring which binds the mind.  And yet we all come into the world of affairs in early youth with that ring surrounding our temples.  We have subconscious prejudices even where we have no conscious ones.  Family, tradition, early instruction and upbringing fasten on every man preconceptions which are hard to break.

I write out of my own experience.  I was brought up as the son of a minister of the Church of Scotland, who left Edinburgh University as a young man to take up a ministry in Canada.  The Presbyterian faith was, therefore, the one in which I was brought up in my boyhood, and I still feel in my inner being a prejudice, which I cannot defend in reason, against those doctrines which traverse the Westminster Confession of Faith.  However much thought and experience have modified my views on religious questions, my tendency is to become the Church of Scotland militant if any other denomination challenges its views or organisation.

Such are the prepossessions which surround youth.  They are formidable, whether they take the shape of religion or politics or class—­and a fixed form of religious belief is probably the most operative of them all.  It is quite possible that but for subconscious training of the mind inbred through the generations neither man nor society would have been able to survive.  None the less, now that man has attained the stage of social reason, prejudice is rather a weakness than a strength.

The greatest prejudice in social life is that against persons—­not against people known to one, for in that case it is dislike or indifference or even hatred, but against some individual not even known by sight.

A mentions B to C.  “Oh!” says C.  “I loathe that man.”  “But have you ever met him?” says A.  “No, and I don’t want to, but I know quite enough about him.”

“But what do you know against him?”

“Well, I know that E told D, who told me, that he was black through and through, and a bad man.”

A few weeks afterwards C sits next B at dinner; finds him an excellent sort of man to talk to and to do business with, and henceforward goes about chanting his praises.  Thus is personal prejudice disproved by the actual fact.  It is a curious freak of circumstance, not easily accounted for, that men who possess that fascination of personality which makes them firm friends and violent enemies are most liable to be adversely judged out of that lack of knowledge which is called prejudice.