the action of those who seek constructively to
promote the general welfare of society, or from the action of those who
protest against society in behalf of neglected interests. The first is
_constructive reform_, the second, _revolution_.
_Constructive reform_ is the work of disinterested {135} reflection.
It may originate in speculation, as political or social theory; or it
may originate in the solution of a practical problem. Plato has
described the type of mind which in either case it requires: a mind
which is free from individual or party bias, and which represents and
co-ordinates all the interests of the community. Now the failure of
political and social theories as measures of reform is proverbial; none
failed more completely and conspicuously than Plato's own. And it is
not difficult to see why this should be the case; for, as a rule, they
are adapted neither to the habits and intelligence of the time, nor to
the actual instruments of practical efficiency. But it may be observed
that the distance between the philosopher and the man of affairs is
considerably shorter than it used to be. The method of discussion
being once generally adopted, action, both individual and social, is
pervaded with theory. Even the man of affairs cannot easily avoid
being a philosopher.
And even in distinguishing as sharply as I have between theory and
practice, I have simply followed a customary habit of thought that is
on the whole misleading. For, in truth, it is as impossible for the
man of affairs to avoid disinterested reflection, as it is for the
commercial traveller to be unsociable. The activity of the one has to
do with the organization of a wide range of {136} interests, as the
activity of the other has to do with the capitalization of
good-fellowship.
Those of you who are familiar with the First Book of Plato's _Republic_
will remember the account given there of the forced benevolence of the
tyrant. It is, I believe, one of the great classics in ethical theory;
and although its full meaning will not appear until we deal directly
with the problem of government, I must allude to it here for the sake
of the principle involved. The sophist of the dialogue, one
Thrasymachus, attempts to overthrow Socrates's conclusion that virtue
is essentially beneficent, by pointing to the case of the tyrant, who
is eminent and powerful, as every one would wish to be, but who is at
the same time wholly unscrupulous. He is th
|