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 )gStYp 
 
 THE ETHICS OF TRILBY : WITH A SUP¬ 
 PLEMENTAL NOTE ON SPIRIT¬ 
 UAL AFFINITY: BY ISAAC HULL 
 PLATT 
 
 Very ma,7iy thanks for your kind letter , and also 
 for “ The Ethics of Trilby , ” which gave 7ne great en- 
 courage7nent a7id delight , and for which I a7n deeply 
 obliged to you. 
 
 George du Maurier to Isaac Hull Platt, February 3, 1895 
 
 Philadelphia 
 THE CONSERVATOR 
 1895 
 
 # 
 
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THE ETHICS OF TRILBY 
 
 “ There are not a few people who will remember the 
 first half of 1894, not for the hard times, nor for the' 
 yacht races, nor any other thing of public interest or 
 private concern, so much as for the pleasure they had in 
 reading ‘ Trilby.’ ’’ 
 
 So says Margaret Sangster in one of the ablest reviews 
 of this remarkable book. Doubtless the great interest 
 excited by “ Trilby” is in no small measure due to the 
 author’s happy way of telling his story. The easy, 
 chatty, rollicking, seemingly careless style has a wonder¬ 
 ful fascination. Not but that the story has sadness- 
 enough, but, as the reviewer in the Indepe?ident says, 
 “ even when the author weeps with his weepers his tears 
 .seem as the April scuds, with sunshine on their wings.” 
 
 But beyond this matter of style there is a deeper 
 meaning, and the book has touched and set vibrating 
 a chord deep in the human heart. The story is a trag¬ 
 edy, but with the tragedy there is such a spirit of hope 
 and faith and joyousness, such an all-persuading optim¬ 
 ism, that the reader, having followed the hero and 
 heroine through their sorrows even to death, closes the 
 book with a sense of tender wonderment and an inde¬ 
 scribable feeling that back of and beneath all the pain 1 
 and sin and wretchedness there are joy and right in the 
 inherencies of things. In language at times almost 
 flippant the author contrives, with great dramatic power, 
 to convey a deep ethical meaning. He never preaches ; 
 
 (0 
 
2 
 
 
 but mere preaching falls as far short of the moral signifi¬ 
 cance of this work as a modern orthodox sermon does 
 to the story of the Magdalen. 
 
 The ethical question in regard to the story turns 
 mainly on the character of Trilby herself. 
 
 ‘ ‘ She had all the virtues but one ; but the virtue she 
 lacked was the very one that plays the title role and gives 
 its generic name to all the rest of that goodly company. 
 Whether it be an aggravation of her misdeeds or an 
 extenuating circumstance, no pressure of want, no temp¬ 
 tations of greed or vanity had ever been factors in urging 
 Trilby in her downward career after her first false step 
 in that direction—the result of ignorance, bad advice 
 (from her mother, of all people in the world), and base 
 betrayal. She might have lived in guilty splendor, had 
 she chosen, but her wants were few. She had no vanity, 
 and her tastes were of the simplest, and she earned 
 enough to gratify them and to spare. . . . Indeed, 
 
 she might almost be said to possess a virginal heart, so 
 little did she know of love’s heart-aches and raptures 
 and torments and clingings and jealousies.” 
 
 It is her association with the “ three clean young Eng¬ 
 lishmen,” whose life of chivalrous comradeship so 
 charms us all, that leads her to a sense of shame. It 
 has been urged that her repentance was not very bitter ; 
 but what matters it? It was sincere, for it led her to a 
 better life—a more serious realization of life. 
 
 In renouncing her lover for what she believes to be 
 his good she performs an act of heroic self-sacrifice. 
 Years after, in the face of approaching death, when she 
 reviews her life in the conversation with Mrs. Bagot, she 
 mentions, as the lowest and meanest thing she ever did— 
 the one that had caused her the bitterest remorse— 
 that once, on a Palm Sunday, in order to further her 
 
 
 
3 
 
 
 own enjoyment of the day, she broke her promise to her 
 little brother. 
 
 “ It was six or seven years ago, and I really believe I 
 have thought of it almost every day, and sometimes in 
 the middle of the night ! And when Jeannot was dying, 
 and when he was dead—the remembrance of that Palm 
 Sunday !” “ O Trilby, what nonsense ! ” replied the 
 
 good orthodox Mrs. Bagot ; “ that's nothing—putting off 
 a small child ! I’m thinking of far worse things—when 
 you were in the Latin Quarter, you know—sitting to 
 painters and sculptors—surely, so attractive as you are—’ ’ 
 “ Oh ! yes—I know what you mean—it was horrid, 
 and I was frightfully ashamed of myself; and it wasn’t 
 amusing a bit ; nothing was, until I met your son and 
 Taffy and dear Sandy McAlister ! But then it wasn’t 
 deceiving or disappointing anybody or hurting their 
 feelings—it was only hurting myself!” 
 
 Mrs. Bagot wishes Trilby to see a clergyman and 
 receive the comforts of religion, but Trilby does not feel 
 the need of them. She is not afraid to die. Her father 
 had told her there would be no hell for any of us, except 
 what we make for ourselves and each other down here. 
 He told her to be good and not to mind what priests and 
 clergymen said. He had been a clergyman himself and 
 knew all about it, Trilby said. He told her that God 
 would make it all right for us somehpw, in the end—for 
 all of us—“ and that seems sensible, does?i't it ? ” 
 
 It is doubtful if this book was written with a conscious 
 ethical purpose. I am inclined to believe that Du 
 Maurier sought rather to depict certain phases of life as 
 he saw them in the rosy light of his own buoyant nature : 
 the free and generous life of Bohemia as opposed to the 
 stupid and selfish life of respectability ; the love of com¬ 
 rades, and warm-hearted human kindness of sometimes 
 
 f 
 
 5 
 
 4 
 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
4 
 
 ■erring men and women. But its ethical significance is 
 none the less (rather more), considered as a reflex of a 
 generous human soul, than if it were written with a dis¬ 
 tinct didactic purpose. 
 
 All things considered, it is rather surprising, in view 
 of the great number who have read the book, with its 
 unconventional ethics, and the amount of comment it 
 has excited, that so little has been found to say against 
 it from a moral point of view. And this is encouraging 
 as a sign of the times. Probably the best presentation 
 of the adverse criticism is the editorial in the Outlook 
 for September 22. After highly praising the work, con¬ 
 sidered as an artistic production, the writer considers 
 the question: “Is ‘Trilby’ a moral story?” and to 
 this gives a negative reply in this wise : 
 
 ‘ ‘ The net result is not a noble note in honor of feminine 
 chastity ; rather the reverse. What the ‘ Scarlet Letter ’ 
 treats as a sacrilege, in the very spirit of Paul himself, 
 this story treats as a fault easily condoned, almost over¬ 
 looked. The drawing of Trilby’s character is morally 
 untrue. In life innocence is not retained after virtue is : 
 lost ; and character drawing which is morally untrue is 
 morally unwholesome. The story of ‘ Trilby ’ is ancient 
 Gnosticism done into modern dramatic form—the story 
 of a pure soul untainted by a polluted life—and Gnosti¬ 
 cism is false. To the question, then, ‘Is “Trilby” a 
 moral story ? ’ we reply in the negative. Its moral stand¬ 
 ard is a purely conventional one—that of the social code 
 of honor. The eternal sanctions of righteousness, which 
 are never ignored in the greatest works of the greatest 
 artists, are wholly lacking. Religion is never referred to 
 except in its most conventional forms, and then only to 
 be satirized ; perhaps we should say travestied. It is 
 true the story exalts all the social virtues except one. 
 But for unchastity in woman it inspires rather the con- 
 
5 
 
 % 
 
 donation which comes of comparative indifference, than 
 the forgiveness which comes of a pure and pitying love. ’ ’ 
 
 If the expression ‘ ‘ innocence is not retained after 
 virtue is lost,” means anything beyond a stupid truism, 
 it means that the particular error of which Trilby was 
 guilty is of a nature so debasing that by it the very moral 
 life of the soul is destroyed. From it there can be no 
 repentence ; the very possibility of moral integrity is 
 annihilated. Such a doctrine is uncharitable, inhuman, 
 cruel. It is strange indeed that it should be held by ad¬ 
 herents to the religion whose sacred book contains the 
 sweet story of the Magdalen ! “ Neither do I condemn 
 
 thee ; go and sin no more,” were the words of the man 
 they worship as a god, and one who perhaps saw deeper 
 into the strength and weakness of the human soul than 
 any before or since. These were words addressed to a 
 woman whose error was Trilby’s error. If “ Trilby ” is 
 immoral, the gospel attributed to St. John is immoral. 
 This may prove nothing to us, but should give them 
 pause. They should be the last to condemn an ethical 
 position which is but the echo of that taken by him 
 whom they hail as the divine savior of mankind. 
 
 There are, however, grounds which, if not higher, at 
 least appeal more directly to people of liberal views, upon 
 which I would defend the ethics of “ Trilby,” the book, 
 and the character of Trilby the woman. In the first place, 
 it is hard to determine in what respect Trilby’s partic¬ 
 ular sin differed from other sin in its corrupting influence. 
 Reverse the case in regard to sex. Would any one 
 allege that a story in which a man who had been guilty 
 of unchastity in early life should be depicted as brave, 
 generous, humane, self-sacrificing, is immoral ? Mani- 
 

 6 
 
 festly, if such an allegation could be justly made, such a 
 man, in real life, who should exhibit these admirable 
 qualities, would be doubly reprehensible : to furnish a 
 proper example and adorn a moral tale he should con¬ 
 tinue in a downward course until he reached the gallows, 
 or at least an ignominious grave at the end of some dis¬ 
 honorable career. If this is not true for a man, why for 
 a woman ? In what does the fault differ ? Abstractly, not 
 at all. Concretely, it presents a more serious menace to 
 certain established conventions of society as at present 
 constituted. It is a greater offense against respectability, 
 and, to those who worship respectability as their Holy 
 Ghost, it is the unpardonable sin. Moreover, woman, in 
 history, having occupied a subordinate position to man, 
 it has been regarded as her duty to her lord and master 
 so to conduct herself as best to meet with his approval 
 and best to minister to him ; while man, not being under 
 corresponding obligations to woman, was naturally left 
 more free. I am not saying that, historically speaking, 
 this has not been right. I believe that if it had not been 
 right it would not have been, and probably it has been 
 a factor in the development of certain admirable traits 
 of female character. But the freedom of woman cannot 
 be attained until this invidious distinction has ceased to 
 exist. 
 
 But waiving any question of the relative turpitude of 
 the sin, what is sin ? It is such a course of conduct as 
 results from allowing a temporary and trivial benefit to 
 overpower a more remote but greater benefit. It is 
 shortsightedness. Considered as a positive entity, it is 
 a force the resistance to which develops character, 
 strengthens and broadens the soul, just as physical exer- 
 
7 
 
 cise—the resistance to material forces—develops the 
 muscles, strengthens and broadens the body. ‘ ‘ What 
 is this blurt about virtue and about vice ? Evil propels 
 me and the reform of evil propels me.” Without evil 
 there could be no virtue—only innocence ; no develop¬ 
 ment of character—only stagnation. 
 
 Mr. Chadwick writes (and he is to be congratulated 
 on his courage in so writing) : 
 
 ‘ ‘ There is good morality in the teaching that such a 
 fault as Trilby’s, if not allied to virtue, is not foreign to 
 it altogether ; it is so frequently, so generally, the fault 
 of liberal, trusting natures, and is therefore deserving of 
 a hundred times more pity than it commonly receives.” 
 
 The Outlook editorial is a manifest begging of the 
 whole question. The distinction attempted to be drawn 
 between the social code of honor and the code of ethics 
 (presumably his own), which the writer considers to be 
 based upon “ the eternal sanctions of righteousness,” is 
 purely artificial. All codes, so far as they are right, are 
 based upon the eternal sanctions of righteousness, and 
 all are imperfect. All have grown up from the ceaseless 
 struggle of the human soul toward the light. None can 
 be checked off against the eternal sanctions of righteous¬ 
 ness in this fashion. The last appeal open to each of 
 us is his own conscience. One ethical code condemns 
 unchastity in woman (using the word in its most con¬ 
 ventional sense) as a sin past forgiveness, while it almost 
 ignores the question whether there be such a sin for man. 
 The other accords to truth and honor the highest places 
 among the virtues. What claim has the former rather 
 than the latter code to rest upon the ‘ ‘ eternal sanctions’ ’ ? 
 
 “To think of other people before myself and never 
 
8 
 
 to tell lies or be afraid”—this was Trilby’s code, and 
 she lived it. This is the code which the Outlook , speak¬ 
 ing for orthodox pharisaism, condemns as a purely 
 conventional standard, and says has not the “eternal 
 sanctions of righteousness ! ’ ’ 
 
 “Character drawing.” the reviewer says, “which is 
 morally untrue is morally unwholesome.” Of course. 
 But this is begging the question again. The question is, 
 is the character of Trilby morally untrue? In the story 
 we have the record of a woman, born and growing up 
 amid evil influences, temporarily yielding to them ; strug¬ 
 gling, and rising above them ; repenting of her errors in 
 the true sense, which means, not to weep and feel re¬ 
 morse, but to renounce them and lead a better life ; in 
 her developed character—developed through the struggle 
 with evil—exhibiting patience, self-control, self-sacrifice, 
 courage, dignity and unswerving fidelity. To those who 
 consider the depiction of this character immoral it might 
 be well to call attention to another and a verv old story, 
 w'hich perhaps they might call immoral if it were new— 
 the story of the Pharisee and the publican who went up 
 to the temple to pray, and the publican went down to his 
 house justified rather than the other. 
 
 The difficulty that I have found in approaching the 
 discussion of this subject is its intangibility. A story like 
 this presents certain aspects of human life in a way to 
 suggest thought hard to reduce to precept and formula, 
 and this very subtlety constitutes its strength. The at¬ 
 tempt to reduce it to bald statement is like trying to 
 describe the perfume of a flower. It suggests “ thoughts 
 that will not wear the yoke of words.” 
 
 The ethics of “ Trilby ” appears not so much in any 
 
9 
 
 definite statement or proposition as in the general senti¬ 
 ment, feeling, atmosphere, and these are wholesome, 
 sound and pure. 
 
 It is unnecessary to discuss the exact relative im¬ 
 portance of Trilby’s faults as compared with other faults. 
 Enough that she rose above them. Enough that she 
 demonstrated the inherent dignity, honor, truthfulness— 
 yes, purity of her soul. Her path may at one time have 
 been through bogs and fens, but it passed on and by 
 devious ways reached at last the sweet, flowery, whole¬ 
 some uplands. 
 
 Her career is an epitome of the ever-advancing struggle 
 of humanity. Strengthened by evil overcome ; broad¬ 
 ened by experience of life ; purified by sorrow bravely 
 met—it rises triumphant over evil, using that very evil 
 as an aid in its upward course. 
 
 I am not very familiar with the doctrines of the ancient 
 Gnostics ; but if Gnosticism meant that no sin can so 
 pollute the soul as to inhibit it from losing on stepping- 
 stones of its dead self to higher things, then I believe 
 ,that not only is it not false, but that it implies one of the 
 eternal verities. 
 
 The reviewer in Unity says : ‘ ‘ The new theology is 
 
 spreading, but with it is going an ethics which threatens 
 the life and purity of our American homes.” 
 
 Well, if the new theology is spreading, new ethics 
 must of necessity go with it. It is possible that conven¬ 
 tional ethics needs revising. It may come to be regarded 
 as not altogether immoral to hold that that which is 
 impure is not made pure by a sacerdotal function, and 
 that true sexual kinship is not determined by a particular 
 form of ecclesiastical or civil marriage, but by spiritual 
 
IO 
 
 affinities inherent in the soul. It may at some future time 
 be considered that the lapse of a woman from conven¬ 
 tional virtue is no more an unpardonable sin than the 
 selling of herself, body and soul, for lucre or a title. 
 The doctrine may be accepted that an offense against 
 respectability is no worse than an offense against human 
 nature. It even may be that a fallen woman may be 
 given a chance to redeem herself, and yet the life and 
 purity of our American homes survive. 
 
 The new theology, whatever else it may mean, must 
 involve the entire abandonment of the hateful idea of a 
 vengeful, implacable deity, and it will imply an ethics 
 which will admit of the possibility of the advancement of 
 the most degraded ; will assert the infinite capacity of 
 development in the human soul ; will deny most stren¬ 
 uously the imagined impurity of the human body or 
 any of its parts or functions. ‘ ‘ God at last is responsi¬ 
 ble for all of us,” Trilby’s father taught her. This, to 
 me, is the ethics of “ Trilby.” 
 
 Du Maurier has done a great and brave work. We 
 might say of him, as has been said of the ideal poet : 
 “ Now he has passed that way, see after him. There is 
 not left any vestige of despair or misanthropy or cun¬ 
 ning or exclusiveness, or the delusion of hell or the 
 necessity of hell—and no man thenceforward shall be 
 degraded for ignorance or weakness or sin. ’ ’ 
 
 « 
 
II 
 
 NOTE ON SPIRITUAL AFFINITY 
 
 In the discussion following the reading of the foregoing 
 paper before the “Fellowship for Ethical Research” 
 considerable difference was developed regarding the 
 exact meaning of ‘ ‘ spiritual affinity ’ ’ and its bearing 
 upon “sexual kinship.” 
 
 Now Stormouth’s dictionary defines spiritual as “not 
 gross, not material, possessing the nature or q dities of 
 a spiritual being, pure, holy.” This definition will serve 
 our purpose as well as any. 
 
 Without entering into a discussion as to the nature of 
 man, or of the nature of spirit or soul, all will, I sup¬ 
 pose, agree that some functions and attributes of human¬ 
 ity are less material, less gross, more ethereal, than others: 
 for instance, thought than digestion, love than muscular 
 action. The question whether the spiritual aspect of 
 man’s nature is separable from the material is irrelevant 
 to the question. It is enough that man presents these 
 two sides to his nature, and the higher or more intangi¬ 
 ble side let us agree to call the spiritual side. The 
 impelling motives to the sex relation in mankind may be 
 roughly enumerated, proceeding from lowest to highest, 
 as follows : 
 
 ist. The hope of attainment of some extraneous re¬ 
 ward or benefit, as money, position, title, social esteem, 
 gratification or ambition. This leads to prostitution and 
 to “ marriages de convenance , ” which, while they differ 
 in dignity and respectability, are essentially of like nature. 
 
 2d. Simple, gross, animal desire, having reference to 
 persons of the opposite sex almost indiscriminately, or 
 with regard only to their physical attractions. 
 
 
 % 
 
12 
 
 3d. Friendship, or passing fondness for a person of 
 the opposite sex, founded upon qualities inherent in that 
 other person, but not exclusive of a like feeling for other 
 individuals. 
 
 4th. Romantic love, a feeling of intense attraction for 
 the other, partly physical, partly intellectual or spiritual, 
 and, while it lasts, in its nature exclusive of like feelings 
 for others. 
 
 5th. A still more elevated, refined and spiritual senti¬ 
 ment, best expressed in the beautiful opening sentence of 
 Edward Carpenter’s essay on “Marriage:” “Of the 
 great mystery of human love, and that most intimate 
 relation of two souls to each other—perhaps the firmest, 
 most basic and indissoluble fact that we know ; of that 
 strange sense—often, perhaps generally, instantaneous— 
 of long precedent familiarity and kinship ; that deep 
 reliance and acceptation of another in his or her entirety ; 
 of the tremendous strength of the chain which thus at 
 times will bind two hearts in lifelong dedication and de¬ 
 votion, persuading and indeed not seldom compelling 
 the persons concerned to the sacrifice of some of the 
 other elements of their lives and characters ; and withal 
 of a certain inscrutable veiledness from each other which 
 so frequently accompanies the relation of the opposite 
 sexes, and which forms at once the abiding charm and 
 the pain—sometimes the tragedy—of their union ; of 
 this palpitating, winged, living thing, which we may 
 perhaps call the real marriage, I would say but little ; 
 for, indeed, it is only fitting or possible to speak of it by 
 indirect language and suggestion, nor may we venture 
 to rudely drag it from its sanctuary into the gaze of 
 common light.” 
 
 
13 
 
 These different motives and relations doubtless over¬ 
 lap and blend, the second, for instance, being an element 
 underlying the higher ; and, moreover, they are in¬ 
 dividual cases modified and overruled by extraneous 
 influences such as real or fancied duties and obligations 
 to others. 
 
 It does not follow that any one of these impulses is 
 necessarily and inherently wrong at all times and all 
 places. My contention is that the purity and elevated¬ 
 ness ris£s with the character of the impulses, and that 
 this constitutes the “spiritual affinity.” Doubtless not 
 every nature is capable, in its present stage of evolution, 
 at least, of reaching spiritual heights. To such as are 
 not, of course, the best they can do is, for the moment, 
 right for them. 
 
 As for an ecclesiastical or civil ceremony, I fail to see 
 that it contributes anything to the purity or spirituality 
 of the relation, or that it has any value beyond the con¬ 
 ventional one of serving as a record of the social status. 
 
 The sanction of right is happiness. I can conceive of 
 no better, no nobler, no other ; but the trivial happiness 
 of the moment should often be subordinated to the 
 deeper, purer, more spiritual and enduring happiness 
 of the future, and to understand and do this is right¬ 
 eousness. 
 
 « 
 
THE CONSERVATOR 
 
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 published in the interest of any sect or party, but of Ethical principle and practice 
 as reflected in all societies and churches and outside of all. 
 
 Published monthly by Innes dr 3 Son, 200 S. Tenth Street, Philadelphia. 
 
 Entered at the Post Office in Philadelphia as second-class matter. 
 
 HORACE L. TRAUBEL, Editor. 
 
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