it. To the study of that curious nature I dedicate this volume.



II

To those who join in the investigation I cannot promise hours of ease.
The task is an arduous one, calling for critical discernment and a
kind of disinterested delight in studying the high intricacies of our
personal structure. My readers must follow me with care, and indeed do
much of the work themselves, I being but a guide. For my purpose is
not so much to impart as to reveal. Wishing merely to make people
aware of what has always been in their minds, I think at the end of my
book I shall be able to say, "These readers of mine know now no more
than they did at, the beginning." Yet if I say that, I hope to be able
to add, "but they see vastly more significance in it than they once
did, and henceforth will find the world interesting in a degree they
never knew before." In attaining this new interest they will have
experienced too that highest of human pleasures,--the joy of clear,
continuous, and energetic thinking. Few human beings are so inert that
they are not ready to look into the dark places of their minds if, by
doing so, they can throw light on obscurities there.

I ought, however, to say that I cannot promise one gain which some of
my readers may be seeking. In no large degree can I induce in them
that goodness of which we talk. Some may come to me in conscious
weakness, desiring to be made better. But this I do not undertake. My
aim is a scientific one. I am an ethical teacher. I want to lead men
to understand what goodness is, and I must leave the more important
work of attracting them to pursue it to preacher and moralist. Still,