and the wrong would thus appear as two advocates between whom we could not decide until the case had decided itself. We could not even call them right and wrong in advance, for the problem is to know which is which. Pending the decision each side might properly do its utmost for success. Mr. Spencer might give two answers to this objection. First, he might fall back on his fatalism, as making such an indecision impossible; but this solution would be very expensive, for it would reduce all moral theories to a farce. He might next say that this case has been debated through the ages. The survival of the fittest has been nothing but such a debate, and hence it is quite too late for us to think of re-opening the question. But even this answer fails to meet the case. We know that the unknowable has gone on changing its opinions on various matters; and who shall assure us that it has made up its mind in morals? And even if the so-called wrong has failed thus far, how do we know that it always will? Mr. Spencer expresses a great and just indignation at the conduct of the British government toward the tribes and nations of Asia and Africa. He glows at times with such fervor as to lead to the fear that he secretly believes in God and eternal righteousness. Yet, gratifying as this moral enthusiasm is, it is a logical inconsequence. For England has succeeded, and why, then, is not her conduct right? May we not see in such success an indication that the unknowable has no settled scheme of morality? And on this theory, why should not England, in fixing her Asiatic and African policy, settle the question by comparing her military strength with that of the other side? Our own trouble with the Indians arises largely from imagining that right is independent of survival; but it is becoming plain that the unknowable is bent on rooting them out, and why should we not lend a hand? The shortest cut to social equilibrium in this case would seem to be extermination. Mr. Spencer has no valid answer to these objections. The outcome of his view is Spinoza's position that right is measured by power, and this, in turn, is only another form of Hobbes' doctrine that might makes right. Would some Spencerian mind showing us how the theory can fairly escape this conclusion?

To the common conscience, Mr. Spencer's ethics is especially obnoxious on account of its low tone. This low pitch is due to the fact that he is bound to get all his sanctions from the

earthly life. When this limited view is combined with the doctrine that happiness is the only source of obligation, the result is a theory of duty which is very flat and uninspiring. The earlier selfish systems of morals are generally abandoned in theory, and all moralists feel called upon to insist upon the duty of self-sacrifice for the good of the many. The result is that all utilitarian systems have great trouble to get any rational basis for the duty of self-sacrifice. Our own conviction is that the selfish systems have been theoretically too much decried. There is an element of truth in them which must be taken into account. A reasonable self-love, as Butler calls it, is as much justified as any altruistic principle of action. But in our revolt against selfishness we have overlooked this fact, and have failed to reflect upon the postulates of self-sacrifice as a duty. If we may not assume that the interests of the one and the many are at bottom identical, there is no justice in sacrificing the one to the many. Mr. Spencer recognizes this, and aims to show that a wise egoism leads to altruism and conversely a wise altruism will lead to egoism. Thus there is "conciliation," and "compromise," and survival is secured. Unfortunately in the actual world this view does not always apply. In a vague, general way, it is valid, but when applied to the details of life it is unsufficient. How shall we reconcile egoism and altruism when it is a question of carrying help into a yellow-fever district, or when life is worn away in caring for the helpless and useless? If there were some outlook upon the heavenly and the eternal the solution would be easy, but when one is dead forever, it is hard to see how the "compromise" is possible. Compromise can be effected only while both parties are alive. Theoretically there is no escape for the Spencerian from admitting that when the law of duty brings us into such straits as these, we may rightly draw back. In. deed, Mr. Spencer rather boasts that he has made ethics pleasant. The current views of duty are stern, severe, and forbidding. He aims to show a more excellent way. And it must be allowed that his doctrines are not pitched in a heroic key. In a theoretical world of tame, well-meaning people they might suffice, but they are too mild and insipid altogether for the actual world and its abnormal relations. They are the ethics of the well-fed and prosperous. Of the tragical issues between FOURTH SERIES, VOL. XXXII.-30

right and wrong, of the terrible dilemmas of conscience, they say nothing. They do not suffice for the half-starved operative, or the terribly-tempted man of business. The hero and the mar tyr would look in vain to them for inspiration, and dark temptations to hidden crime find in them no barrier. Perhaps Mr. Spencer would say that his ethics is only meant for a normal order, and express only the conditions of the ideal moral state, but in that case we are left without any ethics for the actual and abnormal. What are we tempted men and women to do here and now, where faithfulness often means loss and ruin, and where death is forever putting an end to all chances to "compromise?" We need guidance for our own action, and not for the good time coming. We believe, indeed, with Mr. Spencer, that the laws of righteousness are the conditions of social equilibrium, and in general of individual well-being. But while man endures men are dying, and in the present abnormal state of affairs the law of duty is often too large for earthly comfort. The Greek and Roman moralists saw this clearly. Aristotle has pointed out that virtue may lead to the "last things," to shame and torture and death, and, having no outlook upon the heavenly, he wavers as to what should be done in these extremities. What shall we do when, from an earthly stand-point, duty does not pay? Here is one of the antinomies of conscience. Reason and conscience alike insist that no law can be binding which does not exist for the good of all its subjects. When, then, duty appears too large for our earthly comfort, there is but one alternative: Either we must enlarge the life to fit the law, or we must cut down the law to fit the life. Christianity and the great masters in morals do the former. Mr. Spencer ought to do the latter; but in general he ignores all these deeper questions and offers his sweetened-water theories with the most blissful confidence in their sufficiency. It would not be surprising, however, if some Spencerian should flame out at this point with some of the oldfashioned intuitional morality, and should affirm the eternal sacredness of duty apart from any consideration of consequences or of length of life; but such an exhibition would only be a new example of the illogical ways of the plexuses and the nascent motor excitations.

Thus we have outlined Mr. Spencer's ethical teachings.

is not new.

Upon the whole, we cannot think highly of them. The old epigram applies perfectly, the new is not good, and the good But by the aid of an inflated terminology he has succeeded in giving an air of novelty to familiar commonplaces. He has made some excellent, and more mistaken, criticisms of other ethical views. If when he had finished he had directed the same critical attention upon his own theory, the results would have been highly beneficial. The "Data of Ethics" would probably have remained unpublished, that is, of course, if the plexuses and the nascent motor excitations would have let logic have its way. Perhaps in another article we may attempt some detailed criticism, under favor, that is, of the editor as well as of the excitations.

ART. III. — THE FRENCH REFORMED CHURCH, ITS SYNOD OF 1872 AND SUBSEQUENT EVENTS.

[SECOND ARTICLE.]*

In our preceding article we saw the opening of the National Synod convoked by the decree of November 29, 1872. At present we shall briefly consider the proceedings of the Synod, the subsequent attitude of the two parties in the Church, and the recent status of French Protestantism in the matter of education and evangelization, with a word concerning its prospects.

I. THE DEBATES AND CONCLUSIONS OF THE SYNOD.

Besides the official report, we have from M. Bersier a valuable account of these proceedings. The session of the Synod Aside from the details of

.

extended from June 6 to July 10. a new organic law, three main questions arose for determination. First, The competency of the present Synod to act as

the

supreme authority of the Church. Second, The propriety of formulating a Confession of Faith, and the terms of such Confession. Third, The obligatory character of the Confession and the religious qualification of electors. We are chiefly interested in the treatment of these points.

*It is to be observed that this Article is printed as it was written in Oct., 1879. Histoire du Synode General de l'Eglise Réformé de France. Paris, 6 Juin— 10 Juillet, 1872. EUGÈNE BERSIER.

1. The discussion of the first question was introduced by the presentation of a declaration from the consistory of Lyons, signed also by forty-two Liberal delegates, to the effect that since the present Synod was constituted by elections from the several consistories on a basis of numerical inequality, the first and only duty of the Synod was to provide for a new election on a more equitable plan; and that, therefore, no supreme judicial authority could be accorded to the Synod in any action it might take, the establishment of a Confession of Faith being least of all within its province. It was asserted that one consistory, that of Paris, embraced thirty thousand persons, while some others numbered not over six hundred; that twentyseven consistories, embracing one hundred and sixty thousand Protestants, were not represented; that the Law of Germinal having made no mention of National Synods, virtually abolished them, and that, at all events, the system of synodal gov ernment had lapsed by desuetude.

On the other hand, it was argued that the decree of convocation had done well in respecting the original rights of the separate consistories or individual presbyterial bodies, notwithstanding imperfections which might exist in the proportional allowance of delegates; and that it was not the Protestant population, in a civil sense, which constituted the Church, as claimed by the Left. M. Laurens affirmed that the silence of the Law of Germinal concerning the National Synods could not be construed into an abolition of them, the former discipline of the Church being in that document specially recognized; that "on the very day when the government pronounced the moment as opportune for the convocation of a National Synod, the Reformed Church then found itself in full possession of its ancient and complete organization;" that, in point of legal form, the law of 1802 and the decree of March 26, 1852, being the only basis, the decree of November 29, convoking the Synod, plants itself on both these enactments, and is, therefore, whether in principle, or form, or intent, as perfectly legal as any thing can possibly be." As the result, an "order of the day," which treated the calling of the Synod as a recognition of the "liberty and autonomy of the Reformed Church of France in religious matters," and asserted the supreme authority of the Synod under Government over the con

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