The line of thought followed in the last section of this lecture assumes, or seems to assume, that our only choice lies between history framed in a naturalistic, and history framed in a theistic, setting. In the first case we have a world-outlook which forbids the attribution of permanent value to human effort; in the second case we have a world-outlook which requires, or, at the least, permits it. But are these the only alternatives? What are we to say, for example, about those metaphysical religions which, whether they be described as theistic, pantheistic, or atheistic, agree in regarding all life as illusion, all desire as wretchedness, and deem the true end of man to be absorption in the timeless identity of the real? Such creeds have no affinity with naturalism. Philosophically they are in sharpest contrast to it. But even less than naturalism do they provide history with a suitable setting. For naturalism does, after all, leave untouched the interest of historical episodes, so long as they are considered out of relation to the whole of which they form a part. As we are content, in the realm of fiction, to bid farewell to the hero and heroine on their marriage, unmoved by anxieties about their children, so, in the realm of “brute fact,” we may arbitrarily isolate any period we choose, and treat the story of it without reference to any theories concerning the future destiny of man. But this process of abstraction must surely be useless for those who think of the world in terms of the metaphysical religions to which I have referred. In their eyes all effort is inherently worthless, all desire inherently vain. Nor would they change their opinion even were they persuaded that progress was real and unending; that effort and desire were building up, however slowly, an imperishable polity of super-men. For those who in this spirit face the struggling world of common experience the contemplative interest of universal history must be small indeed. FOOTNOTES: [3] I greatly regret having to stretch the ordinary meaning of the word “æsthetic” to the extent required by the argument of this chapter. I got into trouble in a previous work by the extension I gave to the word “Authority.” And as, in that case, no explanation seemed sufficient to avoid misconception, so I am afraid it will be in the present case. But what better course is open to me? I require a word to express a concept which is vital to the doctrines I am preaching. Where am I to get it? If there is no such word in ordinary use, I must either invent a new word, or I must modify the familiar meaning of an old word. There are objections to both courses; yet one of them must be taken. I have chosen the second; and can do no more than ask for the indulgence of those readers who think I should have chosen the first. [4] Cf. Plato in the “Phædrus.”