COUNSELS OF PERFECTION.
IT is strange that our English Church should have fought as shy as it has of" counsels of perfection." The reason, no doubt, has been a more or less healthy one,—namely, the fear of sanctioning anything like a spiritual aristocracy, such as the practice of admitting moral standards for the individual which are not to be binding for the race not unfrequently promotes. In the Roman Church, the celibate life of the priesthood, and especially the life of the regular as distinguished from the secular clergy, undoubtedly has led to the recognition of some- thing like official sanctity, to which it is scarcely expected that ordinary laymen need aspire. And to admit that there is anything intrinsically purer and better in a state to which only the few are encouraged to aspire, than there is in the state to which all are encouraged to aspire, is undoubtedly to sanction the formation of a spiritual aristocracy, and so to injure the moral ideal of the whole community. But, as we understand the matter, the hearty recognition of "counsels of perfection" for individuals involves no danger of this sort. When our Lord told the young man who inspired him with a feel- ing of love, "If thou wonldst be perfect, go sell that thou haat, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in Heaven, and come, follow me," he suggested, as we understand the saying, not a law of duty for all men who feel equal to the sacrifice, but only that which to this individual man, under his individual circumstances, would have resulted best for his own moral and spiritual nature. He was one, apparently, on whom close personal intercourse with Jesus Christ would have had the most ennobling effect, an effect that would have strengthened all that was noble within him, and would have eradicated all that was cowardly or weak. This was not always, however, the counsel which our Lord gave. In the case of the poor maniac whom he cured, there appears to have been as much eager desire to give up all and follow Christ as in the case of the rich young man there was positive reluctance ; but in that case our Lord would not allow it. To him, the "counsel of perfection" given was, "Go to thy home, to thy friends, and tell them what great things the Lord hath done for thee, and how he had mercy on thee." In his case, the kind of personal intercourse which would have made the other "perfect," would apparently have been injurious. Just in the same way, St. Paul asserts that it would have been as much within his right to marry as it was within St. Peter's, but that he surrendered his right for what was virtually to him a "counsel of perfection "—that is, because he thought that in a life of complete freedom from such ties, in a life in which he declined to use to the full his right in the Gospel, he could preach the Gospel with greater effect. But while he regarded this as a counsel of perfection in his own case, he would never for a moment have urged it as a counsel of perfection on others whom he did not intimately know. He would never for a moment have said that what was for him the higher life, must be intrinsically the higher life,—the hind of life by which any one who adopted it might expect to gain in moral calibre. He only judged for himself how he himself might best use the gifts which had been given to him ; and that, as we understand it, is what a "counsel of perfection," in the Christian meaning of the term, as distinguished from a universal moral prin- ciple, means. It means a course by which the individual may best reach the ideal which he is intended to reach,— not a course which is binding upon all merely as human beings. To take an illustra- tion from a well-known secular life, it is pretty clear that Francis Bacon, if he had had the courage to follow the "counsel of perfection" which was most powerfully impressed on his own mind, would have "sold the inheritance he had" and given over "all care of service," and become "the true pioneer in that mine of truth which lay so deep." This was, evidently, Bacon's "counsel of perfection" for himself,—a counsel of perfection on which he had not the nobility to act. Wordsworth, again, had the strength of mind to follow his own "counsel of per- fection" when he gave up everything in the nature of a career, and went to live on a small pittance in the Lake district, just for the very purpose of brooding over those thoughts which, as they came from his lips, have given life and strength to hundreds of his fellow-countrymen. Scott, again, we suspect, did not abide by the "counsel of perfection" which had most recom- mended itself to him, when he made haste to be rich iii order that he might live the free and hospitable life of a Scotch laird—though we do not think that he disobeyed any inward monitor so distinct and peremptory as Wordsworth would have disobeyed had he acted likewise. Or, to come to our own times, we suspect that we know one man of power and learning who could have served England much better in a position of comparative retirement than he can in the position of authority and care which he has chosen ; while we believe that another dis- tinguished man mistook the true "counsel of perfection" for himself, when he tried to escape from the crowd into a position less suited to his own genius. As we understand what is meant by "counsels of perfection," they are the counsels by wh ich individuals can best develope what is noblest and most spiritual within them—not because the course which they enjoin is intrinsically better, intrinsically more holy, but be- cause it is best suited to the particular character in question, and opens to it the highest opportunities for benefiting others and spiritualising itself. Whether or not it is possible to pro- vide, with advantage, as the Roman Catholics attempt to do, "counsels of perfection" for whole classes at a time,— orders of secular charity, orders of preachers, meditative orders, and so forth, is a difficult question. But that as a matter of fact the English Church takes far too little pains to impress on individuals that, for many of them at least, there are real counsels of perfection which would make all the difference between a spoilt life and a rich life, we are very sure indeed ; and we believe that it is in this direction, rather than in any general principle which it would be possible to en-
force equally on all, that the true remedy for the spirit of luxury is to be found.
We believe that it is absolutely impossible to lay down any general rule as to a scale of expenditure to which the very rich, the rich, the comfortable classes, the poor, and the very poor, ought alike to conform. But we believe also that, unless amongst all the classes to whom luxury is possible, there are plenty of people to whom it seems not indeed a class duty, but a personal duty, to live such a life of personal devotedness as is inconsistent with luxury, the spirit of luxury is sure to grow to proportions of the most dangerous kind. The reason why we see no general rule in these matters is that, so far as we can judge, a liberal scale of expenditure amongst those who can afford it—where their lives are not lived for the sake of the expenditure, but where the expenditure is entirely secondary to the higher purposes of their lives—is not only not inconsistent with the good of the com- munity at large, but is positively conducive to it. What is in- consistent with the good of the community is the predominance of the spirit of selfishness in any class. But was it not perfectly right that such a man as Mr. Ruskin, for instance,—whose gift for seeing beauty aright every one recognises,—should have spent a great deal in accumulating the pictures and the gems which he exhibited the other day to the correspondent of the Pall Mall Gazette? And if it was right that he should spend a great deal on such purposes, is it not equally right for men of inferior genius and taste to spend a due proportion on like objects P Yet if this be once granted, it becomes simply impossible to lay down any self-denying ordinance on this subject which all classes alike ought to observe. What is needful, we believe, is that no one should live for the sake of luxury, but that whatever luxury any one may think it right to indulge in, should be made entirely secondary and subservient to some higher ideal of life, and per- fectly consistent with a permanent devotion to some kind of disinterested duty. If in every class in which luxury was possible there were plenty of people who, in deference to "counsels of perfection," had abandoned luxury,—and in every such class there are a few, though we fear by no means plenty of them,— we might feel pretty sure that even amongst those who do live in splendour and opulence there would be a strong sense of shame in indulging selfish luxury, and that this fear of selfish luxury would ward off the worst evils which grow up in an idle and luxurious plutocracy. What seems to us to be needed as a qualification of the "rights of property," as those rights are vulgarly understood, is not a legal attack upon them, but a moral attack on the right of men to use them for the pur- pose of building up nothing better than an existence of selfish enjoyment. And no moral attack could be conceived so effective as the existence of a considerable number of persons of weight and judgment in every such class, who had deliberately, as a "counsel of perfection," abandoned the life of luxury for a life in which their own moral nature could expand more genially. We heartily wish that our spiritual teachers would enforce more frequently than they do on their hearers the great need that there is for every man and woman to consider whether or not he or she is living the life which promises most of moral and spiritual growth ; and if not, what kind of change is needed in order that each may live it. We are persuaded that in very many cases the needful change would not be to a life of regular philanthropy,---for which comparatively few are fit,—but that in a very great many cases the needful change would be to a life of some kind of useful and efficient work, for which very few indeed are unfit. And whatever life might be chosen, the exodus out of a life of mere luxury would be large, and would exert the most elevating influence on the administration of that life by those who remain in it. We are not at all opposed to a life in which luxury is combined with a large hospitality, and especially a large hospitality towards those who can but seldom enjoy luxury in their own proper sphere. What we are opposed to is a life of either hoggish luxury or of social ostentation ; and that sort of life would be best depreciated by the example of a noble hospitality on the one side, and of a frequent renunciation of luxury at the prompting of higher motives on the other side.
But it is not merely as a remedy for the evils of luxury that it is so necessary to urge upon men that for every hrtman being, if he would but look for it, there is some "counsel of perfection" which he would do well to follow. Without such a complement as this to the universalism of the moral law, the spur can never be properly applied to the individual sense of responsibility for the individual's special character and gifts. And it is in reality by the examples of individuals that the tone of society at large is best purified, and the worst of our competitive instincts subdued and restrained.
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