[A] Those especially who teach that generally speaking the knowledge, pleasure, and perfection of each individual is, for him, good, their opposites bad, and that all else is in itself indifferent, will perhaps protest against my classing them among the subjectivists. It might even seem on a superficial survey, that they have set up a doctrine of the good equally valid for all. But on a more careful examination we find that this teaching does not even in a single instance, hold one and the same object to be good universally. For example, my own knowledge is, according to this view, for me worthy of love; for every one else indifferent in itself, while the knowledge of another individual is in itself for me indifferent. It is curious to observe theistic thinkers, as often happens, setting up a subjectivistic view respecting the good, valid of all mortal loving and willing, while, at the same time assuming that God, without respect of person, estimates every perfection by a kind of objective standard. This exception with regard to the loving and willing of God and the notion of Him as eternal Judge is then meant to render harmless in respect of its practical consequences, the egoism which such a principle implies. elebrated controversy between Bossuet and Fenelon it may be said that the great bishop of Meaux advocated a kind of subjectivism. Fenelon’s theses, though he advocated a system of morality neither ignoble nor unchristian, were finally condemned by the Church of Rome, though it did not go so far as to reject his teaching as heretical. Otherwise one would really be compelled to condemn also those fine glowing lines attributed by many to St. Theresa, that in a very imperfect Latin translation have found their way into many Catholic prayer-books which is much more than their escaping the ecclesiastical censor. I give them translated directly from the Spanish Nicht Hoffnung auf des Himmels sel’ge Freuden Hat Dir, mein Gott, zum Dienste mich verbunden. Nicht Furcht, die ich vor ew’gem Graus empfunden, Hat mich bewegt der Sünder Pfad zu meiden. Du Herr bewegst mich, mich bewegt Dein Leiden. Dein Anblick in den letzten, bangen Stunden. Der Geisseln Wuth. Dein Haupt von Dorn umwunden. Dein schweres Kreuz und--ach!--Dein bittres Scheiden. _Herr, Du bewegest mich mit solchem Triebe,_ _Das ich Dich liebte, wär’ kein Himmel offen._ _Dich fürchtete, wenn auch kein Abgrund schreckte;_ _Nichts kannst Du geben, was mir Liebe weckte;_ _Denn würd’ ich auch nicht, wie ich hoffe, hoffen,_ _Ich würde dennoch lieben, wie ich liebe.”_