by the happiness it brings. But for a working
conception it is far better. Self-realization
has never been the aim of the saints and heroes.
Imagine a patriot dying for his country’s freedom,
or a mother giving years of sacrificing toil for her
child, on the ground of self-development! The
patriot may feel that through his sacrifice and that
of his comrades his countrymen will be freer or more
united or rid of some curse
i.e., ultimately,
happier. The mother thinks consciously of the
happiness of the child she serves. But except
for the young man or properly be for the time self-centered,
self-development 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. [Footnote: Cf. a recent story
writer, Nalbro Hartley, in Ainslee’s (a mountain-white
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!”] Goethe, with all
his genius, encyclopedic 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 self-realizing 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 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.