He does not sacrifice to that hollow kind of eternity which excludes the present.
Thus, though the man of principle, intensely set on the object before him, cannot spare a glance over his shoulder to see if and how he is being followed, we need not think of him as one who leaves the world of men to take care of itself. The 'noble army of martyrs' is a many in one, and the member of such an army a one in many, inasmuch as a universal rule is individually obeyed for the common good, by each putting it into action for himself without waiting upon the rest. And this army is no exclusive corps, but by the terms of its service embraces all mankind. If there were a general desire on the part of suffering humanity to emigrate from this poor planet, the matter could doubtless be arranged; but, even so, nothing would be gained from the standpoint of ethics, unless sin should somehow be excluded from the baggage.
Let us, then, make all due allowance for the psychological need of attending to the moral intuition regardless of consequences, while notwithstanding we insist that this world of men as a whole is the true sphere of moral endeavour. Thus history, nay, even that humble department of history known as anthropology, may legitimately aspire to shape and guide the thought of the moralist overtaken 'in a cool hour.' The initiative lies with him. History with anthropology merely constitutes an advisory board without power to act. Ethics lays down a policy. History, if it deem such a policy disastrous in the light of past events, can at most seek to dissuade. Ethics does not require to prove its case so long as intuition points the direction clearly. History, on the other hand, must shoulder the burden of disproof, and can hope to affect the ethical judgment only if it can make it highly probable that the proposed course of action is incompatible with the present and future welfare of the human race.
Having thus defined the extent to which we as anthro-
