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The Harvest of Character.

“Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”—GalaTIANS vi. 7.

[UST as it is impossible, in the physical world,

JUST

to gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles, so is it impossible in the moral world to reap in the end and in the long-run anything but reward for the good which we do, anything but punishment for the evil. This assertion is demonstrably, I had almost said, undeniably, true. But there have always been moralists, from the time of the old Greek Sophists down to the present professor of logic in the University of Aberdeen, who have maintained that the only punishment to be feared by wrongdoers was that which could be inflicted from without,-fines, imprisonment, social ignominy, and so forth. If this were really so, if there were no other form in which retribution could come, our text would not be universally valid. Whether it held in

any particular case would depend upon whether the wrongdoer could or could not escape detection. If he could, it might be possible to sow one thing and reap another, to sow evil and to reap good. It not unfrequently happens, indeed, that a man who is dishonest, by managing to appear honest reaps the external rewards of honesty. But, nevertheless, it is true of him that "Whatsoever he has sown, that shall he also reap," ay, that he has already begun to reap. There is a harvest of character that follows from human actions, and this is at once the most important and the most certain form of retribution. Every action a man commits will infallibly make him a better or worse kind of man than he was before its commission. It is to this harvest of character that I wish to call your attention.

There are some very interesting discussions on this subject in Plato's 'Republic.' Thrasymachus, one of the Sophists, undertakes to prove that the unjust man, if only he is unjust on a large enough scale, is always a gainer. He says, whenever the unjust and just man are partners in any business undertaking, the former gets the best of it by overreaching the latter. In the case of income-tax, the unjust man, who

gives a false return, will pay less on the same amount of income than the just. Again, in an official situation, he who is a conscientious man will neglect his own affairs for the sake of the general good, and will not enrich himself from the public purse as he might if he were not troubled with a conscience. Being unjust on a small scale procures for men the names of burglar, swindler, thief, &c. ; but to be unjust on a large scale, like a tyrant usurper, for example, who has forced his way to a throne through rivers of blood, and has then sacrificed without stint the health and happiness and lives of his subjects for his own enjoyment,-to be wicked on such a magnificent scale as this is the way to procure for one's self all that heart can wish. To illustrate Thrasymachus's view by what often takes place in the present day: if a man steals a shilling's worth of goods he is called a thief and sent to prison; but if he buys £10,000 worth of goods without paying for them, he is called a gentleman, and allowed to move in the best society.

Another speaker in the same dialogue, named Glaucon, supports a somewhat different position. He argues, that generally speaking it is impossible to commit injustice with impunity, either

on a large scale or on a small scale. He admits that if it were possible to injure our neighbours without any fear of civil punishment, it would be the best thing we could do; but he says as men cannot count on acting injuriously to others without running the risk of being injured by them in return, they have agreed among themselves that they will mutually refrain. So justice is the result of a compromise between the best of all, which would be to do injustice to others without suffering it from them in return, and the worst of all, which is to suffer without the power of retaliation. He goes on to assert, what I hope for the sake of humanity is not true, that if the just man and the unjust had entire liberty given them to do what they liked, they would both go the same way, they would both become unjust. Supposing that each had a Gyges' ring, by which he could become invisible when he pleased, their actions would become identical. Glaucon further maintains that the appearance of justice is alone necessary to secure happiness; because if a man seems to be just he will obtain for himself the rewards of society and the smiles of his fellow men quite as much as if he were really what he seemed. Hence if it were generally possible for a man to

appear just and to be unjust, that should be the object of our endeavours: for we should then reap a twofold advantage,—we should obtain the rewards, without the punishment, of injustice, and also the rewards of justice; we should enjoy the pleasures of sin without its pains, and also the favours which society is in the habit of bestowing upon honest and honourable men. Still, as a rule, if a man has only the appearance of justice, the chances of exposure are great; and therefore honesty is on the whole the best possible. It is a sacrifice of one's own interest, but it is one which pays.

He

Here Socrates takes up the discussion. proceeds to argue that virtue is desirable not only for its extrinsic, but also for its intrinsic, rewards; not only because it procures for us the goodwill and kindly offices of our fellow men, but also, and chiefly, because of what it is in itself. Virtue, says Socrates, is the wellbeing of the soul, and therefore it is its own reward. The virtuous soul is as superior to the vicious as a well-ordered and well-governed commonwealth is better than a country which is in a state of civil war. The heart of the vicious man is necessarily more or less filled, even in prosperity, with tumult and discord; while the heart