T. B.

Upton,
May 9, 1904.

My dear Herbert,—­I am going back to the subject of ambition—­do you mind?

Yesterday in chapel one of my colleagues preached rather a fine sermon on Activity.  The difficulty under which he laboured is a common one in sermons; it is simply this—­How far is a Christian teacher justified in recommending ambition to Christian hearers?  I think that, if one reads the Gospel, it is clear that ambition is not a Christian motive.  The root of the teaching of Christ seems to me to be that one should have or acquire a passion for virtue; love it for its beauty, as an artist loves beauty of form or colour; and the simplicity which is to be the distinguishing mark of a Christian seems to me to be inconsistent with personal ambition.  I do not see that there is any hint of a Christian being allowed to wish to do, what is called in domestic language “bettering” himself.  The idea rather is that the all-wise and all-loving Father puts a man into the world where he intends him to be; and that a man is to find his highest pleasure in trying to serve the Father’s will, with a heart full of love for all living things.  A rich man is to disembarrass himself of his riches, or at least be sure that they are no hindrance to him; a poor man is not to attempt to win them.  Of course it may be possible that the original Christians were intended to take a special line while the faith was leavening the world, and that a different economy was to prevail when society had been Christianised.  This is a point of view which can be subtly defended, but I think it is hard to find any justification for it in the Gospel.  Ambition practically means that, if one is to shoulder to the front, one must push other people out of the way; one must fight for one’s own hand.  To succeed at no one’s expense is only possible to people of very high character and genius.

But it is difficult to see what motive to set before boys in the matter; the ideas of fame and glory, the hope of getting what all desire and what all cannot have, are deeply rooted in the childish mind.  Moreover, we encourage ambition so frankly, both in work and play, that it is difficult to ascend the school pulpit and take quite a different line.  To tell boys that they must simply do their best for the sake of doing their best, without any thought of the rewards of success—­it is a very fine ideal, but is it a practical one?  If we gave prizes to the stupid boys who work without hope of success, and if we gave colours to the boys who played games hard without attaining competence in them, we might then dare to speak of the rewards of virtue.  But boys despise unsuccessful conscientiousness, and all the rewards we distribute are given to aptitude.  Some preachers think they get out of the difficulty by pointing to examples of lives that battled nobly and unsuccessfully against difficulties; but the point always is the ultimate recognition.  The question is not whether we can provide a motive for the unsuccessful; but whether we ought not to discourage ambition in every form?  Yet it is the highest motive power in the case of most generous and active-minded boys.