ave hoped to pass
through by the way of religion, and instead they
have formed a place of thought and feeling so
marked and fixed that it seems as though long
ages would be insufficient to enable them to
get out of the rut! Some have believed that
by the aid of pure intellect a way was to be
found; and to such men we owe the philosophy
and metaphysics which have prevented the race
from sinking into utter sensuousness. But the
end of the man who endeavors to live by
thought alone is that he dwells in fantasies,
and insists on giving them to other men as
substantial food. Great is our debt to the meta-physicians
and transcendentalists; but he who
follows them to the bitter end, forgetting that
the brain is only one organ of use, will find
himself dwelling in a place where a dull
wheel of argument seems to turn forever on
its axis, yet goes nowhither and carries no
burden.

Virtue (or what seems to each man to be
virtue, his own special standard of morality
and purity) is held by those who practise it to
be a way to heaven. Perhaps it is, to the heaven
of the modern sybarite, the ethical voluptuary.
It is as easy to become a gourmand in pure
living and high thinking as in the pleasures of
taste or sight or sound. Gratification is the
aim of the virtuous man as well as of the drunkard;
even if his life be a miracle of abstinence
and self-sacrifice, a moment's thought shows
that in pursuing this apparently heroic path he
does but pursue pleasure. With him pleasure
takes on a lovely form because his gratifications
are those of a sweet savor, and it pleases him
to give gladness to others rather than to enjoy
himself at their expense. But the pure life and
high thoughts are no more finalities in themselves
than any other mode of enjoyment; and
the man who endeavors to find contentment
in them must intensify his effort and continually
repeat it,--all in vain. He is a green
plant indeed, and the leaves are beautiful; but
more is wanted than leaves. If he persists in
his endeavor blindly, believing that he has
reached his goal when he has not even perceived
it, then he finds himself in that dreary
place where good is done perforce, and the
deed of virtue is without the love that should
shine through it. It is well for a man to lead
a pure life, as it is well for him to have clean
hands,--else he becomes repugnant. But
virtue as we understand it now can no more
have any special relation to the state beyond
that t