science is the only light we have to
guide us in the path of virtue. In hours of leisure and study it is our
privilege to inform and clarify this consciousness of the ideal. That
has been the purpose of the preceding pages. When the time for action
comes, then, without a murmur, without an instant's hesitation, the
voice of conscience should be implicitly obeyed. Conscientiousness is
the form which all the virtues take, when viewed as determinations of
the self. It is the assertion of the ideal of the self in its every act.
THE REWARD.
+Character the form in which the result of virtuous conduct is
preserved.+--It is neither possible nor desirable to solve each question
of conduct as it arises by conscious and explicit reference to rules and
principles. Were we to attempt to do so it would make us prigs and
prudes.
What then is the use of studying at such length the temptations and
duties, the virtues and vices, with their rewards and penalties, if all
these things are to be forgotten and ignored when the occasions for
practical action arrive?
The study of ethics has the same use as the study of writing, grammar,
or piano-playing. In learning to write we have to think precisely how
each letter is formed, how one letter is connected with another, where
to use capitals, where to punctuate and the like. But after we have
become proficient in writing, we do all this without once thinking
explicitly of any of these things. In learning to play the piano we have
to count out loud in order to keep time correctly, and we are obliged to
stop and think just where to put the finger in order to strike each
separate note. But the expert player does all these things without the
slightest conscious effort.
Still, though the particular rules and principles are not consciously
present in each act of the finished writer or musician, they are not
entirely absent. When the master of these arts makes a mistake, he
recognizes it instantly, and corrects it, or endeavors to avoid its
repetition. This shows that the rule is not lost. It has ceased to be
before the mind as a distinct object of consciousness. It is no longer
needed in that form for ordinary purposes. Instead, it has come to be a
part of the mind itself--a way in which the mind works instinctively. As
long as the mind works in conformity with the principle, it is not
distinctly recognized, because there is no need for such recognition.
The principle comes to consciousne
|