ion is no
disqualification. The devout Catholic accepts the multiplication table,
and can impart his knowledge without reference to the infallibility of
the Pope. To refuse to employ him is to impose an extraneous penalty on
his convictions. It is not illiberal for an editor to decline the
services of a member of the opposite party as a leader writer, or even
as a political reviewer or in any capacity in which his opinions would
affect his work. It is illiberal to reject him as a compositor or as a
clerk, or in any capacity in which his opinions would not affect his
work for the paper. It is not illiberal to refuse a position of trust to
the man whose record shows that he is likely to abuse such a trust. It
is illiberal--and this the "moralist" has yet to learn--to punish a man
who has done a wrong in one relation by excluding him from the
performance of useful social functions for which he is perfectly
fitted, by which he could at once serve society and re-establish his own
self-respect. There may, however, yet come a time when Liberalism,
already recognized as a duty in religion and in politics, will take its
true place at the centre of our ethical conceptions, and will be seen to
have its application not only to him whom we conceive to be the teacher
of false opinions, but to the man whom we hold a sinner.

The ground of Liberalism so understood is certainly not the view that a
man's personal opinions are socially indifferent, nor that his personal
morality matters nothing to others. So far as Mill rested his case on
the distinction between self-regarding actions and actions that affect
others, he was still dominated by the older individualism. We should
frankly recognize that there is no side of a man's life which is
unimportant to society, for whatever he is, does, or thinks may affect
his own well-being, which is and ought to be matter of common concern,
and may also directly or indirectly affect the thought, action, and
character of those with whom he comes in contact. The underlying
principle may be put in two ways. In the first place, the man is much
more than his opinions and his actions. Carlyle and Sterling did not
differ "except in opinion." To most of us that is just what difference
means. Carlyle was aware that there was something much deeper, something
that opinion just crassly formulates, and for the most part formulates
inadequately, that is the real man. The real man is something more than
is ever ade