PRACTICAL PROPOSALS

its mother's womb) that he may leam the lessons of individuality ; that he may leam his powers, and the mastery over things ; that he may leam his right relations to others, and the misery of mère self-seeking and ^eed ; and that, having leamed thèse lessons, and so to speak found the limits of Self, he may once more fuse that Self — not now agam with the tribe, but with something greater and grander, namely Humanity.^

The serene light of that faith is the best light in which to put forth social effort, and share in the création of the future. Expérience must hâve its perf ect work, and finds its efficient instrument in the man who accepts it, and transmutes it in his own heart into social love and power. Such a man becomes the centre rotmd which the new System forms ; and to him is given the vision of that which shall be, since in him abides that which etemally is.

Expérience (whidi in time to aU must corne) breeds S3anpathy, and Sympathy Understanding, and Understanding Love;

And Love leads Hdpfulness by the hand, to open the gâtes of Power unlimited — even for that new race which now appears.*

History may repeat itself, and this which we speak of as our civilization, with ail its inheritance f rom the past, may, like earlier civilizations, as it reaches to its term sufïer the devastating shock of the divine decree, " The end is forbidden " ; when the structures which we hâve reared in toil and agony, fashioning them as near to the Idéal

» England's Idéal, p. 156. « T. D„ p. 393.

iM HiACnCAL FBOPOfiAlâ

Ly be, shall appixadi amqdetîoii, the invisible heralds of a new qMxrh may be thmideriiig at thé gâtes ; and since they cannot dweD in our tents or pahrfs or find room for tlietr laiger lif e within oor order, tbe fabiic ne hâve loved into lif e may, in ansiper to their challenge, sfaake and f alL But as the " higher men " hnikl the still ampler tcnpk; the still mcve régal palace, nâng not withoot gratitude such of oor materials as may be wortfay, they wiD lead iqxm the f allen stones thcreof Âe joyons witness that " we too hâve

'* This is what yon thall do : Love the earth and stm aad the animais, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stnpid and crasy, dévote your income and labour to others, hâte tjrrants, argue not conceming God, hâve patience and indulgence towards the people, take oS your faat to nothing known or unknown, or to any man or number of men — go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young, and with the mothers of feunilies, re-examine ail that you hâve been told in school or church or in any book, and dismiss whatever insults your own soûl ; and your very flesh shall be a great poem, and hâve the richest fluency« not only in its words, but in the silent Unes of its lips and face, and between the laiâies of your eyes, and in every motion and Joint of your body." — ^Walt Whitman.

IT is not so strange as might at first sight appear that a book which is ofiered as an exposition of a man's teaching shonld close with an appréciation of the man himself. I do this, not simply to satisfy my own personal feelings, but also because, to a degree beyond what would be strictly true of most authors, the personality and the teaching are one. To write a. book which shonld create a personal relation

between himself and the reader was Carpenter's 19 289

tint destre. It would be difficult to oame a wlume which achieves this more saccessiiilly thoa VQwmpds Democracy. Who touches this, tvudltfs a frknd

b>NBa the académie point of view, fais writîiig ni v^pML to critidsm in respect both of Hteratunr 40^1 phikfiophy. I think that he is very l.iî^^ty indifierent to tfais. He does not désire tv Nt 4 prdessioiial fitteratem' or philosopher, >uhJl wvuld dMStt it more a commendation than 4 cttttictâiBL to be called an amateur, rememr tS^ttu^ tbhit thft wQfd means a lover. He is a lv.'>iW àr^ 4wl kst-^ lovor of liie, of Nature, v^i ^ttmrtftltrnA T^wmrës Dimocracy — and ail fais v»i Vr writùi^^ lie within the scope of this — ^is a l>vv^ %^à :$iî^tk:^ fess to establish a point of view t^vut t^ ttttd purs^MMi contacts. Many authors ^vt\^ 4 tlv^^t ol uokBLOwn admirars; Carpenter is 4^tiv^iil( t{)t^ éew vImm wQfks bave made for them a ÎK'^'t v'i adto(^wu frMuds. In Tcmards Democracy 4 ^»vUll ^v^*^ biittsi^ away with aU the wholeness 4:^X 4^40^^'tt ^ a forer to ^rhomsoever cares tv.\ vi: <4au ntoàx^ bim. It is dominated and NC.v^^^^sl >iiitb a dkstiBCt and definite personal irv^v^t!«m!cv : it b CKeLtnit becaice it is incamat vtit ; u 1:$^ 4 trmk siâf^iiscfosaie. Such intimate ^\X^v^Mliot^ bdTe givtA gfeat books to tbe ktv<^tunf vVt the vcrid ; if a aan bas some gift ui 1 1^ 4rt ci witin(g; and miU «se it to tdl a vivid Uit>ciax4 <^x|<i(mnce mitii sinqfidty and wilboat Y^^$^»rv;itk>cu be can scaïc^ &il of a litcniy

achievement or of a peculiarly powerful and fasdinating pièce of work. This will be true if, as in the case of De Quincey, the expérience is one somewhat remote from the life of a normal man ; it will be much more conspicuously true if, as in the case of St. Augustine, the expérience is t3^cal and finds its count^rpart in the lives of multitudes of men and women.

Towards Democfocy is in the way of a Confession, but it has none of the morbidity and unnaturalness of De Quincey's, and none of the painfully self-consdous introspection and selftorturing of St. Âugustine; it is essentially healthy and joyous; it can scarcely be called introspective at ail, for Carpenter is not looking in upon his soûl, as St. Augustine was, but rather out from his soûl. Most of ail, Towards Democrocy deals vdth an expérience which, ex hypothesi, is potential in each individual and in the race as a whole — not merdy potential, but centrally potential; an expérience, moreover, which in thèse days seems to stand near to the threshold for many individuals and many communities. The outstanding peculiarity of the book is an extraordinary blend, as it were, of universal and particular. One feels that the " I " is a man, and at the same time the deepest in every man. There is the almost constant sensé of the overshadowing of a mighty majestic Présence, and yet in the luminous cloud one always sees the " Face like my face," the " Hand like this hand," the