society, then, its members owe a vital debt; for society, the work
of the ethical man, has slowly and painfully built up around us a
fabric of defence against barbarism, the work of the non-ethical man.
This debt we are bound to repay by furthering in ourselves the good
work of human fellowship, and by striving to improve the conditions
of our social life; and the means thereto are self-discipline,
self-support, intelligent effort, not unreasoning violence with its
disruption of the defences against anarchic barbarism.

Yet if society, in making life easier, multiplies the species in
excess of the means of subsistence, it raises up within itself, in
the intensest form, the unlimited struggle for existence. "This is the
true riddle of the Sphinx, and every nation which does not solve
it will, sooner or later, be devoured by the monster itself has
generated."

Improvement there has been during the historical period: with goodwill
and clear thought Huxley looked for ever-accelerating improvement,
though contemporary civilizations seemed neither to embody any worthy
ideal nor even to possess the merit of stability. In the atmosphere
of plain verity, where, as he said, "my business is to teach my
aspirations to conform themselves to fact, not to try and make facts
harmonize with my aspirations," he confidently looked for the hopes of
the future; but were it not so, he solemnly declared--

If there is no hope of a large improvement of the condition of
the greater part of the human family; if it is true that the
increase of knowledge, the winning of a greater dominion over
Nature which is its consequence, and the wealth which follows
that dominion, are to make no difference in the extent and
the intensity of want, with its concomitant physical and moral
degradation among the masses of the people, I should hail the
advent of some kindly comet which would sweep the whole affair
away as a desirable consummation.

In the matter of personal conduct he rejected the notions that the
moral government of the world is imperfect without a system of future
rewards and punishments, and that such a system is indispensable to
practical morality. "I believe," he said, "that both these dogmas are
very mischievous lies."

There is no need for future compensation because, so he firmly
believed, "the Divine Government--if we may use such a phrase to
express the sum of the 'customs of matter'--is wholly ju