Abstract

Mr. Bertrand Russell can afford to fling us his belief like a crumb from the rich man's table.' Reasonably he hopes, not only that we may be interested in his taste, but even that we may accept the largesse without asking to inspect his bakery. Eminent men, no less than popular actresses, may persuade us by merely pronouncing their opinions. And Mr. Russell's manner when he speaks to his wider public hypnotic. So swift, eager, and assured a gesture must, we feel, convey the truth, and nothing but the truth. We, however, who are neither eminent nor eloquent must do more than express our tastes; for no one interested beforehand in us. If we would persuade, we must therefore attempt to present reasons of a universal nature even for our ultimate value judgments. But this task, Mr. Russell says, futile. Yet consider the content of his most recent declaration of faith. With the usual stripped beauty of style, he tells us what he believes, or rather what he thinks he believes. Tersely he describes our world as it seems to him, and tells us what kind of world he desires it to become. This ideal of his, he says, might be achieved if we would all live lives inspired by love and guided by knowledge.' Such a manner of life he calls the good life, assuring us, however, that he calls it good only because he himself happens to desire that it should be practiced. He insists that there no ought in the case. What we 'ought' to desire, he says, is merely what someone else wishes us to desire.' Either you want to live this life that he desires, or you do not; and if you do not, there no more to be said.

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