been a commonplace
of moralists. Perhaps our own age has seen more clearly than those that
preceded it that complete and habitual idleness _is_ immorality, and
that when the circumstances of his life do not assign to a man a
definite sphere of work it is his first duty to find it for himself. It
has been happily said that in the beginning of the reign of Queen
Victoria young men in England who were really busy affected idleness,
and at the close of the reign young men who are really idle pretend to
be busy. In my own opinion, a disproportionate amount of English energy
takes political forms, and there is a dangerous exaggeration in the
prevailing tendency to combat all social and moral abuses by Acts of
Parliament. But there are multitudes of other and less obtrusive spheres
of work adapted to all grades of intellect and to many types of
character, in which men who possess the inestimable boon of leisure can
find abundant and useful fields for the exercise of their powers.

The rectification of moral judgments is one of the most important
elements of civilisation; it is upon this that the possibility of moral
progress on a large scale chiefly depends. Few things pervert men more
than the habit of regarding as enviable persons or qualities injurious
to Society. The most obvious example is the passionate admiration
bestowed on a brilliant conqueror, which is often quite irrespective of
the justice of his wars and of the motives that actuated him. This false
moral feeling has acquired such a strength that overwhelming military
power almost certainly leads to a career of ambition. Perverted public
opinion is the main cause. Glory, not interest, is the lure, or at least
the latter would be powerless if it were not accompanied by the
former--if the execration of mankind naturally followed unscrupulous
aggression.

Another and scarcely less flagrant instance of the worship of false
ideals is to be found in the fierce competition of luxury and
ostentation which characterises the more wealthy cities of Europe and
America. It is no exaggeration to say that in a single festival in
London or New York sums are often expended in the idlest and most
ephemeral ostentation which might have revived industry, or extinguished
pauperism, or alleviated suffering over a vast area. The question of
expenditure on luxuries is no doubt a question of degree which cannot be
reduced to strict rule, and there are many who will try to justify the
mo