ishly wanted "to believe that government is moral, rational, and symmetrical." They shared this weakness with the priestly classes, including members of his own profession. Practical experience did not seem to disabuse intellectuals—lawyers least of all—of their ingrained belief that "governmental theory is the product of ages of careful scholarly thought." Intellectuals, like most of their fellow men, remained "incurable moralists." For that reason, a "Machiavellian" approach to government would never command widespread acceptance. The "concept of government as an insane asylum," though it was based on the "indestructible" proposition that "it is a good thing to make people comfortable if the means exist by which it can be done," would "never work" as a "general political theory." "Its realism is too apparent, as also is its implied scorn for the human race." It could not serve as a political theory either for the intellectuals or for the masses. "Machiavellianism" had "never been a source of group morale."

In The Symbols of Government, Arnold tried to work out a "public philosophy" better adapted to modern conditions than the old competitive individualism but more acceptable to the masses than a theory that treated them simply as inmates of an insane asylum. If ideals had no bearing on conduct, a public philosophy was a contradiction in terms; public discourse could never rise above the level of meaningless babble. But Arnold took it seriously enough, after all, to recommend a new "creed for the future," thereby "deserting" his position as an "objective observer" and taking up the stance of "a preacher and an advocate, rather than an anthropologist." The "new social philosophy," he argued, would have to rest on the "fundamental axiom that man works only for his fellow man." It would "replace the notion of the great man who lived and died for moral and rational purposes" with "tolerance and common sense." Popular acceptance of the "notion of a tolerant adult personality" would promote a "scientific attitude toward government" and put an end to the political ascendancy of the "high-class psychopath and fanatic." The decline of "fanatical devotion to principle on the part of the public" would free "intelligent leaders" from the need to "commit themselves, for political reasons, to all sorts of disorderly nonsense." When the public came to value "practical results" more highly than "preconceived principles," a "competent, practical, opportunistic governing class" would find it possible to get on with the serious work of making people comfortable, without having to inspire and amuse them as well.

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