Posts tagged religionhumanitiesscience

“Truth” decal

What John Stuart MIll says on how freedom of speech keeps the truth alive is brilliant. Although he couches his discussion in terms of religious debates, where it clearly applies, it isn’t about religious debates alone. It also applies to scientific, political and philosophical debates.

When you finish reading the passage below, compare the picture of “keeping the truth alive” that you have at that point with what you imagined when you first read the title of the post above.   

From On Liberty, chapter II: 

If, however, the mischievous operation of the absence of free discussion, when the received opinions are true, were confined to leaving men ignorant of the grounds of those opinions, it might be thought that this, if an intellectual, is no moral evil, and does not affect the worth of the opinions, regarded in their influence on the character. The fact, however, is, that not only the grounds of the opinion are forgotten in the absence of discussion, but too often the meaning of the opinion itself. The words which convey it, cease to suggest ideas, or suggest only a small portion of those they were originally employed to communicate. Instead of a vivid conception and a living belief, there remain only a few phrases retained by rote; or, if any part, the shell and husk only of the meaning is retained, the finer essence being lost. The great chapter in human history which this fact occupies and fills, cannot be too earnestly studied and meditated on.

It is illustrated in the experience of almost all ethical doctrines and religious creeds. They are all full of meaning and vitality to those who originate them, and to the direct disciples of the originators. Their meaning continues to be felt in undiminished strength, and is perhaps brought out into even fuller consciousness, so long as the struggle lasts to give the doctrine or creed an ascendancy over other creeds. At last it either prevails, and becomes the general opinion, or its progress stops; it keeps possession of the ground it has gained, but ceases to spread further. When either of these results has become apparent, controversy on the subject flags, and gradually dies away. The doctrine has taken its place, if not as a received opinion, as one of the admitted sects or divisions of opinion: those who hold it have generally inherited, not adopted it; and conversion from one of these doctrines to another, being now an exceptional fact, occupies little place in the thoughts of their professors. Instead of being, as at first, constantly on the alert either to defend themselves against the world, or to bring the world over to them, they have subsided into acquiescence, and neither listen, when they can help it, to arguments against their creed, nor trouble dissentients (if there be such) with arguments in its favour. From this time may usually be dated the decline in the living power of the doctrine. We often hear the teachers of all creeds lamenting the difficulty of keeping up in the minds of believers a lively apprehension of the truth which they nominally recognise, so that it may penetrate the feelings, and acquire a real mastery over the conduct. No such difficulty is complained of while the creed is still fighting for its existence: even the weaker combatants then know and feel what they are fighting for, and the difference between it and other doctrines; and in that period of every creed’s existence, not a few persons may be found, who have realized its fundamental principles in all the forms of thought, have weighed and considered them in all their important bearings, and have experienced the full effect on the character, which belief in that creed ought to produce in a mind thoroughly imbued with it. But when it has come to be an hereditary creed, and to be received passively, not actively—when the mind is no longer compelled, in the same degree as at first, to exercise its vital powers on the questions which its belief presents to it, there is a progressive tendency to forget all of the belief except the formularies, or to give it a dull and torpid assent, as if accepting it on trust dispensed with the necessity of realizing it in consciousness, or testing it by personal experience; until it almost ceases to connect itself at all with the inner life of the human being. Then are seen the cases, so frequent in this age of the world as almost to form the majority, in which the creed remains as it were outside the mind, incrusting and petrifying it against all other influences addressed to the higher parts of our nature; manifesting its power by not suffering any fresh and living conviction to get in, but itself doing nothing for the mind or heart, except standing sentinel over them to keep them vacant.

Past homepage of the controversial MormonThink website.

For Mormonism, the question in my title is the center of an active debate, both among Mormons generally and among high leaders in the Mormon Church. Some Mormon Church leaders have argued “Yes,” while others have argued “No.” Here is John Stuart Mill’s answer to this question, in On Liberty, chapter II: 

To abate the force of these considerations, an enemy of free discussion may be supposed to say, that there is no necessity for mankind in general to know and understand all that can be said against or for their opinions by philosophers and theologians. That it is not needful for common men to be able to expose all the misstatements or fallacies of an ingenious opponent. That it is enough if there is always somebody capable of answering them, so that nothing likely to mislead uninstructed persons remains unrefuted. That simple minds, having been taught the obvious grounds of the truths inculcated on them, may trust to authority for the rest, and being aware that they have neither knowledge nor talent to resolve every difficulty which can be raised, may repose in the assurance that all those which have been raised have been or can be answered, by those who are specially trained to the task. 

Conceding to this view of the subject the utmost that can be claimed for it by those most easily satisfied with the amount of understanding of truth which ought to accompany the belief of it; even so, the argument for free discussion is no way weakened. For even this doctrine acknowledges that mankind ought to have a rational assurance that all objections have been satisfactorily answered; and how are they to be answered if that which requires to be answered is not spoken? or how can the answer be known to be satisfactory, if the objectors have no opportunity of showing that it is unsatisfactory? If not the public, at least the philosophers and theologians who are to resolve the difficulties, must make themselves familiar with those difficulties in their most puzzling form; and this cannot be accomplished unless they are freely stated, and placed in the most advantageous light which they admit of. The Catholic Church has its own way of dealing with this embarrassing problem. It makes a broad separation between those who can be permitted to receive its doctrines on conviction, and those who must accept them on trust. Neither, indeed, are allowed any choice as to what they will accept; but the clergy, such at least as can be fully confided in, may admissibly and meritoriously make themselves acquainted with the arguments of opponents, in order to answer them, and may, therefore, read heretical books; the laity, not unless by special permission, hard to be obtained. This discipline recognises a knowledge of the enemy’s case as beneficial to the teachers, but finds means, consistent with this, of denying it to the rest of the world: thus giving to the élite more mental culture, though not more mental freedom, than it allows to the mass. By this device it succeeds in obtaining the kind of mental superiority which its purposes require; for though culture without freedom never made a large and liberal mind, it can make a clever nisi prius advocate of a cause. But in countries professing Protestantism, this resource is denied; since Protestants hold, at least in theory, that the responsibility for the choice of a religion must be borne by each for himself, and cannot be thrown off upon teachers. Besides, in the present state of the world, it is practically impossible that writings which are read by the instructed can be kept from the uninstructed. If the teachers of mankind are to be cognisant of all that they ought to know, everything must be free to be written and published without restraint.

Link to a review of Crossing Borders by Sergio Troncoso

For practical policy debates, the most important ethical principle is that the pain and suffering—and the joy—of each human being is of equal importance, without regard to who that person is.  Treating some human beings and their concerns as being of lesser importance is the root of much evil in the world.

For those who cannot manage to approach the well-being of all human beings on an equal footing (and of course, this includes almost all of us in our personal dealings), let me recommend this:

At least for public policy purposes, 

on the way to treating the concerns of all human beings as of equal value,

let us treat the concerns of those human beings we treat as least important

as being at least one-hundredth as important

as the concerns of those we treat as most  important.

All of that is an introduction for this link to a robust Twitter discussion on the ethics of immigration policy.

Update: I have added a Twitter discussion sparked by this post at the end of the storified tweets from earlier. In that discussion, I call the rule just above, treating foreigners as at least one-hundredth as important as citizens, the tin rule.  

Original source here, from Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal and “Never Forget” version here.

Thanks to Unlearning Economics for flagging this funny and moving poster. When I asked him the source, he tweeted: 

@mileskimball it’s actually a joke comment but I prefer the never forget version, bleeding heart that I am: http://www.smbc-comics.com/index.php?db=comics&id=1535#comic …

By that measure, I may be not just a supply-side liberal, but a bleeding-heart supply-side liberal.

My title is a riff on this verse in the Gospel of Luke. The Vogel von Vogelstein painting reproduced above illustrates the scene. Here is a link to this and other paintings of the event. (I don’t see any reason to think that the event described by this Biblical verse is not historical.)

In the blogosphere and in academia, the frustration those who are wrong represent for those who are right is often palpable. It is good to remember that, as long as they do not win, those who are wrong provide an important service to those who are right. For you to understand this post, let’s stipulate that you are absolutely right. Here is what you and those on your side get from those who are wrong, as laid out by John Stuart Mill in On Liberty, chapter II: 

However unwillingly a person who has a strong opinion may admit the possibility that his opinion may be false, he ought to be moved by the consideration that however true it may be, if it is not fully, frequently, and fearlessly discussed, it will be held as a dead dogma, not a living truth.

There is a class of persons (happily not quite so numerous as formerly) who think it enough if a person assents undoubtingly to what they think true, though he has no knowledge whatever of the grounds of the opinion, and could not make a tenable defence of it against the most superficial objections. Such persons, if they can once get their creed taught from authority, naturally think that no good, and some harm, comes of its being allowed to be questioned. Where their influence prevails, they make it nearly impossible for the received opinion to be rejected wisely and considerately, though it may still be rejected rashly and ignorantly; for to shut out discussion entirely is seldom possible, and when it once gets in, beliefs not grounded on conviction are apt to give way before the slightest semblance of an argument. Waving, however, this possibility—assuming that the true opinion abides in the mind, but abides as a prejudice, a belief independent of, and proof against, argument—this is not the way in which truth ought to be held by a rational being. This is not knowing the truth. Truth, thus held, is but one superstition the more, accidentally clinging to the words which enunciate a truth.

… If the cultivation of the understanding consists in one thing more than in another, it is surely in learning the grounds of one’s own opinions. Whatever people believe, on subjects on which it is of the first importance to believe rightly, they ought to be able to defend against at least the common objections. But, some one may say, “Let them betaught the grounds of their opinions. It does not follow that opinions must be merely parroted because they are never heard controverted. Persons who learn geometry do not simply commit the theorems to memory, but understand and learn likewise the demonstrations; and it would be absurd to say that they remain ignorant of the grounds of geometrical truths, because they never hear any one deny, and attempt to disprove them.” Undoubtedly: and such teaching suffices on a subject like mathematics, where there is nothing at all to be said on the wrong side of the question. The peculiarity of the evidence of mathematical truths is, that all the argument is on one side. There are no objections, and no answers to objections. But on every subject on which difference of opinion is possible, the truth depends on a balance to be struck between two sets of conflicting reasons. Even in natural philosophy, there is always some other explanation possible of the same facts; some geocentric theory instead of heliocentric, some phlogiston instead of oxygen; and it has to be shown why that other theory cannot be the true one: and until this is shown, and until we know how it is shown, we do not understand the grounds of our opinion. But when we turn to subjects infinitely more complicated, to morals, religion, politics, social relations, and the business of life, three-fourths of the arguments for every disputed opinion consist in dispelling the appearances which favour some opinion different from it. The greatest orator, save one, of antiquity, has left it on record that he always studied his adversary’s case with as great, if not with still greater, intensity than even his own. What Cicero practised as the means of forensic success, requires to be imitated by all who study any subject in order to arrive at the truth. He who knows only his own side of the case, knows little of that. His reasons may be good, and no one may have been able to refute them. But if he is equally unable to refute the reasons on the opposite side; if he does not so much as know what they are, he has no ground for preferring either opinion. The rational position for him would be suspension of judgment, and unless he contents himself with that, he is either led by authority, or adopts, like the generality of the world, the side to which he feels most inclination. Nor is it enough that he should hear the arguments of adversaries from his own teachers, presented as they state them, and accompanied by what they offer as refutations. That is not the way to do justice to the arguments, or bring them into real contact with his own mind. He must be able to hear them from persons who actually believe them; who defend them in earnest, and do their very utmost for them. He must know them in their most plausible and persuasive form; he must feel the whole force of the difficulty which the true view of the subject has to encounter and dispose of; else he will never really possess himself of the portion of truth which meets and removes that difficulty. Ninety-nine in a hundred of what are called educated men are in this condition; even of those who can argue fluently for their opinions. Their conclusion may be true, but it might be false for anything they know: they have never thrown themselves into the mental position of those who think differently from them, and considered what such persons may have to say; and consequently they do not, in any proper sense of the word, know the doctrine which they themselves profess. They do not know those parts of it which explain and justify the remainder; the considerations which show that a fact which seemingly conflicts with another is reconcilable with it, or that, of two apparently strong reasons, one and not the other ought to be preferred. All that part of the truth which turns the scale, and decides the judgment of a completely informed mind, they are strangers to; nor is it ever really known, but to those who have attended equally and impartially to both sides, and endeavoured to see the reasons of both in the strongest light. So essential is this discipline to a real understanding of moral and human subjects, that if opponents of all important truths do not exist, it is indispensable to imagine them, and supply them with the strongest arguments which the most skilful devil’s advocate can conjure up.

Broken on the Wheel

In my post “A Wish in the Wake of the Boston Marathon Bombings,” I wrote:

May the best in the human spirit vanquish the worst in the human spirit.

In thinking of the worst in the human spirit, I was reminded of a chapter in Stephen Pinker’s wonderful book The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined. In chapter 4, “The Humanitarian Revolution,” he writes:

But the practical function of cruel punishments was just a part of their appeal. Spectators enjoyed cruelty, even when it served no judicial purpose….

Samuel Pepys, presumably one of the more refined men of his day, made the following entry in his diary for October 13, 1660:

“Out to Charing Cross, to see Major-general Harrison hanged, drawn and quartered; which was done there, he looking as cheerful as any man could do in that condition…”

Pepys’s cold joke about Harrison’s “looking as cheerful as any man could do in that condition” referred to his being partly strangled, disemboweled, castrated, and shown his organs being burned before being decapitated….

The word keelhaul is sometimes used to refer to a verbal reprimanding. Its literal sense comes from another punishment in the British navy. A sailor was tied to a rope and pulled around the bottom of the ship’s hull. If he didn’t drown, he would be slashed to ribbons by the encrusted barnacles….

The bland phrase broken on the wheel cannot come close to capturing the horror of this form of punishment. According to one chronicler, the victim was transformed into a “huge screaming puppet, writing in rivulets of blood…”…

… Still others, like the American physician and signer of the Declaration of Independence Benjamin Rush, appealed to the common humanity of readers and the people who were targets of punishment. In 1787 he noted that “the men, or perhaps the women, whose persons we detest, possess souls and bodies composed of the same materials as those of our friends and relations….” 

I had to leave out some of the details Steven Pinker gives because the passage was too graphic. But I left some graphic things in because I wanted the message of our brutal human past to come through.

Anger, hatred and cruelty are elements in the human spirit that can be either nursed and encouraged or fought and subdued. Many of those who commit atrocities have spent many years nourishing and tending their anger, hatred and cruelty before the moment when they commit those atrocities. (Some are psychopaths without a conscience.) May we tame our anger at what they have done into an abiding motivation to make the world a better place, safer in all ways from their dark side, and from our own.

Q: kentlyon asked: “What Do you Mean by Supernatural?”

A: My notion of “natural” comes from what I know of science. Since science progresses, that is a moving target, but I think the idea of regular laws will continue to be central to science. A claimed phenomenon is being treated as “supernatural” if there is no serious attempt to subject it to scientific investigation in order to establish its existence and explain it by the principles of regular science. On the other hand, if something exotic—say a claim of mind reading—is subjected to scientific investigation, it will either be (a) drawn within the orbit of science and what we count as “natural,” (b) shown to be a hoax, or (c) investigated by “science” done so badly that we can justifiably call it pseudo-science.

Remarks:

1. Very often, how statistical issues are handled makes the difference between good science and bad science. For example, people often point to selected anecdotes as persuasive evidence even in situations where large-sample, even-handed evidence is, in principle, available. 
2. If someone makes a claim that would require new physics, the one making the claim should be making an attempt to convince the physicists. More generally, the immediate objections of the relevant experts should be registered alongside whatever claim is made.
3. In cases where a scientific discipline itself is off target, it may be necessary to find a jury for a claim made up of people capable of understanding a scientific discipline who are enough on the outside that they can have some impartiality. Typically, it will be best to choose such a jury for judging an entire discipline as a panel of academics in other disciplines. 
4. Though particular scientific disciplines may be badly off target, I disagree with any claim that science and academic inquiry as a whole are off target.
5. Scientific disciplines such as economics often have only weak evidence one way or another on questions people care a great deal about. In that case, it is important to distinguish between scientific statements that are backed by a large, informative body of evidence, and scientific statements that are simply the best one can make of grossly inadequate evidence. In this, I want to emphasize that evidence is often grossly inadequate even after valiant efforts to gather as much evidence as possible. Scientists in disciplines that often have grossly inadequate evidence sometimes forget to remind each other just how uncertain the answers to the questions they are debating really are, given the inadequacy of evidence.
6. One should be especially slow to accept a claim that requires violating a principle of a scientific discipline such as physics where most statements are backed by a large amount of evidence. 
7. To the extent that there is no conceivable way to test a statement, then it is neither natural nor supernatural. (Indeed, it may not be a “phenomenon.”) Following Wittgenstein, let’s call such a statement “metaphysical.” Metaphysical statements can be important as framing, but they should not be confused with claims of the supernatural. Often, a way to quickly tell the difference between a supernatural claim and a metaphysical claim is that a supernatural claim usually has a hint of something that (if true) would seem like genuine magic (at least outside of religious contexts that desensitize people to the magical element), while a metaphysical claim points to at best metaphorical magic—which isn’t really magic at all.  
8. Just because a claim is extraordinary doesn’t make it a supernatural claim. For example, take the claim that Earth might be observed by intelligent aliens from listening posts inside our own Solar System, and that these aliens make intentional efforts to hide their presence. If the claim is that these aliens came to our Solar System in at only a small fraction of the speed of light, this does not violate any laws of physics. There is no particular implausibility to the idea that intelligent aliens would be interested in studying us scientifically. (Presumably, some species of intelligent aliens would be interested in such a scientific investigation, even if others wouldn’t.) And there is no implausibility to the idea that they might want scientific data about our behavior that was not contaminated by awareness of their existence.
9. To give another example, there are conspiracy theories that are very implausible, but do not violate the laws of physics. I would be inclined to call these claims natural. That tells me that in my distinction between “natural” and “supernatural,” I am privileging my understanding of the laws of physics over my understanding of social science. This is in line with the phrase “the natural sciences.” It is my impression that pretty much all the principles of the natural sciences can be derived from the principles of physics and basic logic. (Leaving aside any broader claims of evolution, the narrow version of the principle of natural selection is just a matter of the logic of selection—it is like counting.)

Update. This afternoon, Noah Smith tweeted links to two articles that are wonderful on exactly the issue here: 

• Adam Gopnik’s “A Point of View: Science, Magic, and Madness”
• Jeanne Garbarino’s “5 Steps to Separate Science from Hype, No Ph.D. Required”

Raphael’s painting “The School of Athens” 

The temptation toward paternalism is one that I feel keenly. And I think  that paternalism can be justified in some situations. So it is in important measure to cause myself to examine my own motives and cause myself second thoughts on that front that I post here what John Stuart Mill writes in the introduction to On Liberty about the paternalistic temptation:

The ancient commonwealths thought themselves entitled to practise, and the ancient philosophers countenanced, the regulation of every part of private conduct by public authority, on the ground that the State had a deep interest in the whole bodily and mental discipline of every one of its citizens; a mode of thinking which may have been admissible in small republics surrounded by powerful enemies, in constant peril of being subverted by foreign attack or internal commotion, and to which even a short interval of relaxed energy and self-command might so easily be fatal, that they could not afford to wait for the salutary permanent effects of freedom. In the modern world, the greater size of political communities, and above all, the separation between spiritual and temporal authority (which placed the direction of men’s consciences in other hands than those which controlled their worldly affairs), prevented so great an interference by law in the details of private life; but the engines of moral repression have been wielded more strenuously against divergence from the reigning opinion in self-regarding, than even in social matters; religion, the most powerful of the elements which have entered into the formation of moral feeling, having almost always been governed either by the ambition of a hierarchy, seeking control over every department of human conduct, or by the spirit of Puritanism. And some of those modern reformers who have placed themselves in strongest opposition to the religions of the past, have been noway behind either churches or sects in their assertion of the right of spiritual domination: M. Comte, in particular, whose social system, as unfolded in hisSysteme de Politique Positive, aims at establishing (though by moral more than by legal appliances) a despotism of society over the individual, surpassing anything contemplated in the political ideal of the most rigid disciplinarian among the ancient philosophers.

Apart from the peculiar tenets of individual thinkers, there is also in the world at large an increasing inclination to stretch unduly the powers of society over the individual, both by the force of opinion and even by that of legislation: and as the tendency of all the changes taking place in the world is to strengthen society, and diminish the power of the individual, this encroachment is not one of the evils which tend spontaneously to disappear, but, on the contrary, to grow more and more formidable. The disposition of mankind, whether as rulers or as fellow-citizens, to impose their own opinions and inclinations as a rule of conduct on others, is so energetically supported by some of the best and by some of the worst feelings incident to human nature, that it is hardly ever kept under restraint by anything but want of power; and as the power is not declining, but growing, unless a strong barrier of moral conviction can be raised against the mischief, we must expect, in the present circumstances of the world, to see it increase.

A depiction of Joseph Smith’s First Vision in stained glass

Since it is Easter, it seems appropriate to write about Jesus. Putting together my own thoughts about Jesus is a big task. (To understand my religious views more generally, see my post “Teleotheism and the Purpose of Life.”) Today, I am going to follow the easier path of telling you about the views of Jesus I grew up with in Mormonism—which in many respects echo traditional Christian beliefs, though there are some key differences from traditional Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant beliefs. The biggest difference between Mormon beliefs about Jesus and Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant beliefs is that Mormons believe Jesus is a separate being from God the Father, as illustrated by the depiction of Joseph Smith’s “First Vision” above. Jesus literally stands at the right hand of God the Father. (It is worth remembering that the Trinitarian doctrine of a three-in-one God that the picture above violates had to be decided by early Church Councils precisely because it was not clear in the Bible itself.) 

Mormons believe in the Bible and what it says about Jesus—including, of course, Jesus’ bodily resurrection. Luke reports Jesus saying this after returning to life:

Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have. Luke 24:39

But let me illustrate Mormon beliefs about Jesus mainly from the other three volumes of Mormon scripture that Mormons believe are also inspired by God. 

Read more …

My great-great grandmother, Ann Alice Gheen, third wife of Heber C. Kimball

From John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty (1869), Chapter 4, “Of the Limits to the Authority of Society Over the Individual”:

I cannot refrain from adding to these examples of the little account commonly made of human liberty, the language of downright persecution which breaks out from the press of this country, whenever it feels called on to notice the remarkable phenomenon of Mormonism. Much might be said on the unexpected and instructive fact, that an alleged new revelation, and a religion founded on it, the product of palpable imposture, not even supported by the prestige of extraordinary qualities in its founder, is believed by hundreds of thousands, and has been made the foundation of a society, in the age of newspapers, railways, and the electric telegraph. What here concerns us is, that this religion, like other and better religions, has its martyrs; that its prophet and founder was, for his teaching, put to death by a mob; that others of its adherents lost their lives by the same lawless violence; that they were forcibly expelled, in a body, from the country in which they first grew up; while, now that they have been chased into a solitary recess in the midst of a desert, many in this country openly declare that it would be right (only that it is not convenient) to send an expedition against them, and compel them by force to conform to the opinions of other people. The article of the Mormonite doctrine which is the chief provocative to the antipathy which thus breaks through the ordinary restraints of religious tolerance, is its sanction of polygamy; which, though permitted to Mahomedans, and Hindoos, and Chinese, seems to excite unquenchable animosity when practised by persons who speak English, and profess to be a kind of Christians. No one has a deeper disapprobation than I have of this Mormon institution; both for other reasons, and because, far from being in any way countenanced by the principle of liberty, it is a direct infraction of that principle, being a mere riveting of the chains of one-half of the community, and an emancipation of the other from reciprocity of obligation towards them. Still, it must be remembered that this relation is as much voluntary on the part of the women concerned in it, and who may be deemed the sufferers by it, as is the case with any other form of the marriage institution; and however surprising this fact may appear, it has its explanation in the common ideas and customs of the world, which teaching women to think marriage the one thing needful, make it intelligible that many a woman should prefer being one of several wives, to not being a wife at all. Other countries are not asked to recognise such unions, or release any portion of their inhabitants from their own laws on the score of Mormonite opinions. But when the dissentients have conceded to the hostile sentiments of others, far more than could justly be demanded; when they have left the countries to which their doctrines were unacceptable, and established themselves in a remote corner of the earth, which they have been the first to render habitable to human beings; it is difficult to see on what principles but those of tyranny they can be prevented from living there under what laws they please, provided they commit no aggression on other nations, and allow perfect freedom of departure to those who are dissatisfied with their ways. A recent writer, in some respects of considerable merit, proposes (to use his own words) not a crusade, but a civilizade, against this polygamous community, to put an end to what seems to him a retrograde step in civilization. It also appears so to me, but I am not aware that any community has a right to force another to be civilized. So long as the sufferers by the bad law do not invoke assistance from other communities, I cannot admit that persons entirely unconnected with them ought to step in and require that a condition of things with which all who are directly interested appear to be satisfied, should be put an end to because it is a scandal to persons some thousands of miles distant, who have no part or concern in it. Let them send missionaries, if they please, to preach against it; and let them, by any fair means (of which silencing the teachers is not one,) oppose the progress of similar doctrines among their own people. If civilization has got the better of barbarism when barbarism had the world to itself, it is too much to profess to be afraid lest barbarism, after having been fairly got under, should revive and conquer civilization. A civilization that can thus succumb to its vanquished enemy, must first have become so degenerate, that neither its appointed priests and teachers, nor anybody else, has the capacity, or will take the trouble, to stand up for it. If this be so, the sooner such a civilization receives notice to quit, the better. It can only go on from bad to worse, until destroyed and regenerated (like the Western Empire) by energetic barbarians.