THE EDUCATION OF AFTER-LIFE. 



2G3 



No ; but I am trying to impress upon you all 

 the value of the education of after-life in raising 

 you to the height of that great argument in 

 which you have to confront the grave emergen- 

 cies of our time and country. Burke is speaking 

 against the folly of electors trying to engage their 

 representatives in matters of local or peculiar in- 

 terest, as distinct from the great questions of na- 

 tional policy. " Look, gentlemen," he says, " to 

 the whole tenor of your member's conduct. Try 

 whether his ambition or his avarice has jostled 

 him out of the straight line of duty, or whether 

 that grand foe of the offices of active life, that 

 master-vice in men of business, a degenerate and 

 inglorious sloth, has made him flag and languish 

 in his course ? This is the object of our inquiry. 

 If your member's conduct can bear this touch, 

 mark it for sterling. He may have fallen into 

 errors ; he must have faults ; but our error is 

 greater and our fault is radically ruinous to our- 

 selves if we do not bear, if we do not even ap- 

 plaud, the whole compound and mixed mass of 

 such a character. Not to act thus is folly, I had 

 almost said it was impiety. He censures God 

 who quarrels with the imperfections of man. . . . 

 When we know that the opinions of even the 

 greatest multitudes are the standard of rectitude, 

 I shall think myself obliged to make those opin- 

 ions the masters of my conscience. But if it may 

 be doubted whether Omnipotence itself is com- 

 petent to alter the essential constitution of right 

 and wrong, sure I am that such things as they and 

 I are possessed of no such power. No man carries 

 further than I do the policy of making govern- 

 ment pleasing to the people. But the widest range 

 of this politic complaisance is confined within 

 the limits of justice. I would not only consult 

 the interest of the people, but I would cheerfully 

 gratify their humors. We are all a sort of chil- 

 dren that must be soothed and managed. I think 

 I am not austere or formal in my nature. I would 

 bear, I would even myself play my part in, any 

 innocent buffooneries to divert them. But I never 

 will act the tyrant for their amusement. If they 

 will mix malice in their sports I shall never con- 

 sent to throw them any living, sentient creature 

 whatsoever — no, not so much as a kitling to tor- 

 ment. ... I could wish, undoubtedly, to make 

 every part of my conduct agreeable to every one 

 of my constituents. But in so great a city, and 

 so greatly divided as this, it is weak to expect it. 

 In such a discordancy of sentiments it is better to 

 look to the nature of things than to the humors 

 of men. The very attempt toward pleasing every- 

 body discovers a temper always flashy, and often 



false and insincere. Therefore, as I have proceed- 

 ed straight onward in my conduct, so I will pro- 

 ceed in my account of those parts of it which have 

 been most excepted to. But I must first beg leave 

 just to hint to you that we may suffer very great 

 detriment by being open to every talker. It is 

 not to be imagined how much of service is lost 

 from spirits full of activity and full of energy, 

 who are pressing, who are rushing forward, to 

 great and capital objects, when you oblige them 

 to be continually looking back. While they are 

 defending one service they defraud you of a hun- 

 dred. Applaud us when we run ; console us when 

 we fall ; cheer us when we recover ; but let us 

 pass on — for God's sake, let us pass on ! " 



I venture to quote these words of everlasting 

 wisdom from one of the greatest masters of the 

 English language and of English political science, 

 because they well express that kind of public edu- 

 cation which the mere experience of life ought to 

 give us, quite irrespective of the special political 

 party to which one may be attached. No doubt, 

 as Mr. Burke says, it is extremely difficult to know 

 how far to concede to popular feeling, or, indeed, 

 how far popular feeling is likely to be correct. We 

 must all work with such instruments as are at 

 hand. Yet not in politics only, but in all public 

 affairs, not on one side only, but on both sides of 

 public life, it is a peculiar danger of the genera- 

 tion in which our lot is cast, that we are often 

 tempted to abandon the lofty and independent 

 line which Mr. Burke and the electors of Bristol 

 then assumed. Often, more often, I fear, than in 

 the days of our fathers, we meanly abdicate the 

 function of leading the opinion of those whom we 

 ought to lead, and prefer to follow the opinion of 

 those who are no better — who are, it may be, 

 worse than ourselves. Sometimes, instead of 

 choosing courses which we believe to be for the 

 good of the country, or for the good, even, of the 

 particular principles which we represent, we are 

 weak enough to bow to the temporary exigencies 

 of some passing war-cry on which we ourselves 

 have no conviction at all, and which we only en- 

 courage for the purpose of acquiring power or in- 

 fluence to ourselves or our friends. It would be 

 easy to illustrate this branch of public education 

 by examples nearer home ; but let us take the ca- 

 reer of that distinguished French statesman who 

 has just gone to his rest. M. Thiers had, no doubt, 

 many faults, and upon his memory will always rest 

 the burden of one or two of the greatest misfor- 

 tunes which have overtaken his country ; but it 

 is to the later years of his course that I would call 

 your attention. When during the German War 



