{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_37998/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_37998","id":"gutenberg_37998","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37998","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Ethics, Evolutionary"],"text":"Produced by Adrian Mastronardi and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  MORALS AND THE EVOLUTION\n  OF MAN\n\n\n\n  MORALS AND THE\n  EVOLUTION OF MAN\n\n  BY\n  MAX NORDAU\n\n  A Translation of\n  \"BIOLOGIE DER ETHIK\"\n\n  By\n  MARIE A. LEWENZ, M.A.\n  Fellow of University College, London\n\n  CASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD\n  London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne\n  1922\n\n\n\n  TO MY DEAR WIFE ANNA (n\u00e9e DONS),\n\n  the sunshine of my life in happy days, my brave\n  comrade in the storms of the world-catastrophe, with\n  love and gratitude I dedicate this book which helped\n  both her and me to endure the dark years when we\n  were homeless wanderers.\n\n  MADRID, _September 26th, 1916_\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n  CHAPTER                                               PAGE\n  1. THE PHENOMENON OF MORALITY                            1\n  2. THE IMMANENCE OF THE CONCEPT OF MORALITY             46\n  3. THE BIOLOGICAL ASPECT OF MORALITY                    84\n  4. MORALITY AND LAW                                    115\n  5. INDIVIDUAL MORALITY AND COLLECTIVE IMMORALITY       144\n  6. FREEDOM AND RESPONSIBILITY                          185\n  7. MORALITY AND PROGRESS                               215\n  8. THE SANCTIONS OF MORALITY                           247\n\n\n\n\nMORALS AND THE\n\nEVOLUTION OF MAN\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE PHENOMENON OF MORALITY\n\n\nA very well-known experiment in animal psychology was once made by\nM\u00f6bius. An aquarium was divided into two compartments by means of a pane\nof glass; in one of these a pike was put and in the other a tench.\nHardly had the former caught sight of his prey, when he rushed to the\nattack without noticing the transparent partition. He crashed with\nextreme violence again the obstacle and was hurled back stunned, with a\nbadly battered nose. No sooner had he recovered from the blow than he\nagain made an onslaught upon his neighbour--with the same result. He\nrepeated his efforts a few times more, but succeeded only in badly\nhurting his head and mouth. At last a dim idea dawned upon his dull mind\nthat some unknown and invisible power was protecting the tench, and that\nany attempt to devour it would be in vain; consequently from that moment\nhe ceased from all further endeavours to molest his prey. Thereupon the\npane of glass was removed from the tank, and pike and tench swam around\ntogether; the former took no notice whatever of his defenceless\nneighbour, who had become sacred to him. In the first instance the pike\nhad not perceived the glass partition against which he had dashed his\nhead; now he did not see that it had been taken away. All he knew was\nthis: he must not attack this tench, otherwise he would fare badly. The\npane of glass, though no longer actually there, surrounded the tench as\nwith a coat of mail which effectually warded off the murderous attacks\nof the pike.\n\nThe fact so often observed, that man in many cases does that which he\npassionately desires to leave undone, and refrains from doing that which\nall his instincts urge him to do--this phenomenon of Morality is a\ngeneralization upon a huge scale of the above experiment on animals with\nthe pane of glass in a tank.\n\nJean Jacques Rousseau thought out a theoretical human being who was by\nnature good. Such a human being does not exist and has never existed.\nFrom sheer annoyance at the provoking obliquity of vision which led the\nenthusiast of Geneva to develop such a theory, one is sorely tempted to\ngo to the opposite extreme and declare that man is by nature\nfundamentally bad; but such an assertion is just as na\u00efve as Rousseau's\ncontention. Good and bad are values which we can only learn to\nappreciate when we have felt the effect of the phenomenon of Morality.\nThe concepts of good and evil are of much later origin than mankind, and\ncan therefore no more constitute a fundamental characteristic of man's\noriginal nature than, for instance, the cut and colour of his clothes;\nthough it is open to wiseacres to maintain that man's nature to some\nextent actually finds expression in the cut and colour of his\nclothes--that is, in his choice of them. Anyone contemplating primitive\nman, man as he emerges from the hands of Nature, stripped of all the\nadditions which he has acquired in the course of his historical\ndevelopment, is bound to admit that man is neither good nor bad; he is a\nliving being acting according to the instincts implanted in his nature;\njust like the pike. But in most contingencies he does not obey these\ninstincts, and if he reflects upon himself and his actions, he is\nastounded at realizing this, and asks: \"Why do I refrain from revelling\nin the gratification of my desires?\"\n\nInnumerable times every day of his life he would like to break many or\nall of the Ten Commandments; but he abstains from so doing, and, what is\nmore, mostly without effort, without having painfully to suppress his\ndesire. What prevents him from yielding to his impulses? An invisible\npower which lays its commands upon him: \"Thou shalt not!\" \"Thou shalt!\"\nOften his aims and inclinations come into violent collision with this\norder, or this prohibition, and are hurled back by the painful impact.\nMan hears the threatening, imperious voice, but cannot see whence it\ncomes. Accustomed to reason by analogy, he concludes that it is, like\nthunder, a voice of Nature. When the pike has sufficiently injured his\nnose against the pane of glass, he assumes as an actual fact that an\ninsuperable barrier separates him from the tench, and, moreover, that it\nis both useless and painful to come into contact with this. He does not\ntry to discover the nature of the obstacle, and gives up any further\nattempt upon his mysteriously protected prey. Man, with a more highly\ndeveloped intelligence than the pike, does not accept the phenomenon of\nMorality with dull resignation. Since he has become conscious of a\nmysterious barrier erected between his volitions and his actions, he has\nnot ceased to reflect upon this barrier, to investigate it with a timid\nyet irresistible desire for knowledge, and to try and discover its\nnature.\n\nIt redounds to man's credit that he has devoted so much time and energy\nto investigating the character and essence of Morality. But the result\nof these investigations does not redound to his credit. With the\nexception of theology, there is no subject upon which so much has been\nwritten as upon ethics. Yet whosoever plunges into this boundless sea of\nliterature will emerge with feelings bordering upon horror and despair.\nHere a free rein is given to all man's errors, to his habit of drawing\nfalse conclusions, to his faulty modes of thought. Incapacity to\ninterpret facts, association of ideas, elusive as a will-o'-the-wisp and\nuncurbed by any criticism, intemperate mysticism, arrogant dogmatism,\nshallow self-sufficiency--all these vie with one another in the\npresentment of theories which either are patently foolish, arbitrary or\nill-founded, or else prove to be so when impartially examined.\n\nIt is hard for the few reasonable thinkers who have taken part in this\ngreat investigation to make their voices heard amid the uproar raised by\nthe solemn, unctuous, dictatorial or pedantic tomfools. And even the\nformer are not entirely satisfactory, because they do not distinguish\nclearly enough between the form and the substance, the externals and the\nessence of Morality, and because they do not discriminate with\nsufficient care between questions as to its nature, origin and aim, and\nits powers or sanctions--questions which must on no account be\nconfounded.\n\nWhat is Morality? Obviously it is necessary to attempt a clear answer to\nthis question before any useful purpose can be served by inquiring into\nthe group of problems to which it gives rise: its aim, its laws, its\norigin, its method, its assumptions. The Stoics answer this question as\nfollows: \"Morality is living according to Nature.\" Furthermore, it is\nquite in accordance with the doctrine of the Stoics that Cicero says:\n\"Virtue, however, is nothing but Nature developed to the highest\npossible degree of perfection\" (\"_ad summum perducta_\"). Moral therefore\nmeans natural; Morality and Nature are equivalent; they are one. Really\na simpler or more childlike explanation is hardly possible. The most\nsuperficial glance at human life and at our own soul teaches us that\nMorality is contrary to Nature, that it must struggle against Nature to\nassert itself, that it means a victory over Nature, in so far as we\nunderstand by Nature in this special sense the most primitive reaction\nof man to simple and more complicated stimuli, the first tendency of\nimpulse, the immediate, instinctive urge to act. Further, the definition\nof the Stoics ignores the aggregation of concepts which the synthetic\nconception, Morality, involves; as if this were self-evident and\nrequired no definition. The Stoics tacitly assume that Morality and\nGood are synonymous. Cicero makes this assumption clearer by using the\nword Virtue (_virtus_) instead of Morality. But in all languages this\nword implies approbation and praise. It is an appreciation of worth\n(_Werturteil_), to use the expression so appropriately coined by Lotze.\n\nBut the very fact that we recognize Morality as being valuable is by no\nmeans a matter of course and it demands an explanation.\n\nCertain actions could only be judged to be good if they were\ndistinguished from others which did not suggest the same judgment, which\nwere felt to be not good, to be bad or indifferent. We come to the\nquestion, What is Good, what is Bad? The Stoics reply, \"That which is\ngood is natural.\" It is easy to call facts which please us natural, and\nsuch as displease us unnatural. In reality both series of facts are\nequally natural; because everything that happens is natural; because by\ndefinition Nature is the synthesis of all phenomena; because nothing\nexists outside of Nature, and within Nature everything is a part of her\nand therefore is natural and can be nothing but natural. If we\nnevertheless wish to distinguish between natural and unnatural\nphenomena, if we call Good, Morality, and Virtue natural, and compare\nthem favourably with the unnatural, this only proves that we use the\nwords natural and unnatural as synonyms for good and bad, and that we\nhave a ready-made standard by which we measure the naturalness or\nunnaturalness (that is, the goodness or badness) of actions, and that\nthere exists within ourselves the law by which we judge them to be good\nor bad. But how do we come by this law? How, of what material, and why\ndo we fashion this standard? Why do we approve of one thing as good and\ncondemn another as bad? What qualities do the former and the latter\npossess, or what qualities do we ascribe to them? That is what we want\nto know when we inquire as to the significance of Morality, and the\ndefinition of the Stoics throws no light whatever upon the matter.\n\nAccording to Aristotle Morality is \"the activity of Practical Reason,\nwhich is accompanied by pleasurable emotion.\" It is not worth while to\ndwell upon this definition. It is absolutely valueless. Practical Reason\nis not a definite concept; Aristotle does not say anywhere what he\nunderstands by \"practical\" when he applies this attribute to Reason; and\nto call every activity of Practical Reason accompanied by pleasurable\nemotion Morality is mere eccentricity.\n\nTo take only one example: if I have a house built, and accept the\narchitect's plans because they please me greatly, my practical reason is\nmost certainly active; the gratification induced by my reasonable choice\nof the plans is doubtless a pleasurable emotion; but assuredly no one\nwill characterize as moral this activity of my practical reason which is\naccompanied by pleasurable emotion. It may be that Aristotle was\ncontemplating not a single action, but conduct in life as a whole. In\nthat case he has expressed in an unfortunate, and much too loose a\nmanner the thought that Morality is Reason plus pleasurable emotion. We\nshall frequently meet with and have to examine this idea, which omits to\nexplain why pleasurable emotions attend certain activities of\n\"Practical Reason,\" whatever that may be, and fail to be aroused by\nothers.\n\nJudaism, as embodied in its law-givers and prophets, teaches that\nMorality consists in living and acting in accordance with the divine\nWill. Maimonides, who, however, was regarded by many of his\ncontemporaries as a heretic, does not consider Judaism a creed at all,\nbut a code of Morality. He maintains that anyone who repudiates the\ntenets of the Jewish faith, even the most essential one, namely, the\nbelief in a single god, must not be excluded from the Jewish community\nas long as he conforms to its moral laws. This thinker, usually so\naccurate and nice in his reasoning, overlooks the fact that in this case\nhe is contradicting himself in a manner wellnigh comic. According to\nhim, too, Morality consists in the endeavour to live and act in\naccordance with the divine Will. How is such an endeavour possible for a\nman who does not believe in God and for whom consequently no divine Will\nexists? Therefore either Morality must be something different from an\napproximation to the standard set up by the divine Will, or else he who\ndenies God cannot be moral. But I will leave the author of the \"Guide of\nthose who have gone astray\" to his self-contradiction, and only retain\nthe Jewish definition of Morality as based upon the Will of God.\n\nWithout any restriction Christianity has taken over this definition from\nthe mother-religion. In his zeal to claim that God alone is the source\nof all Morality, St. Augustine allows himself to be carried away to such\nan extent that he libels mankind most hatefully. Just as for Rousseau\nman is by nature good, for the Bishop of Hippo he is by nature\nfundamentally bad. Left to his own devices he would always wallow in the\nmire of sin and vice, and would never even feel the wish to abandon his\nwickedness. It is God's mercy alone which rescues him from his depravity\nand sets his feet upon the path of righteousness, leading him to virtue,\nsalvation and eternal bliss. Thomas Aquinas is no less definite on this\npoint. The scriptures of Judaism and Christianity contain the eternal\nlaw which God has ordained for mankind. He points out the paths that man\nshould follow. All Morality springs from Him alone.\n\nTo this very day true believers adhere to this doctrine. Morality did\nnot originate on earth; the knowledge of it is a gift of grace from\nheaven to mankind. It is derived from God; it is that which God has\nwilled; or else it does not need any special act of volition on the part\nof God, but is the essence of God himself. That is the teaching of\nPaley, the classical moral philosopher. Virtue consists in doing good to\nmankind in obedience to the Will of God, and in order to attain eternal\nsalvation. Here stress is laid upon the fact that Morality is active\nlove for one's neighbour, and this is a concession on the part of the\nconciliatory Englishman to the utilitarian ethics of his countrymen; but\nfor him the necessary and sufficient reason for this love of one's\nneighbour is the Will of God and the desire for eternal salvation. The\nGerman devotee, Baader, blustering like a capuchin, preaches this\ntwaddle: \"Any Morality which is not rooted in divine law is the\nintellectual impiety of our time raised to its highest power; it is the\nperfection of atheism; for the idea of the absolute autonomy of man\natheistically denies the Father as law-giver; the theistic denial of the\nnecessity for divine aid in fulfilling the law does away with the Son or\nMediator, and finally the materialistic-pantheistic apotheosis of Matter\ndoes away with the Holy Ghost with its sanctifying power.\" The Frenchman\nJouffroy, though more careful and reticent in his manner, unmistakably\nexpresses his conviction that \"ethics, as well as the philosophy of law,\ninevitably and necessarily lead to theology.\"\n\nBut this necessity only exists for minds whose desire for knowledge and\ntruth is easily satisfied by words without a meaning that can be\nvisualized, by fabulous statements accepted without proof, by fictions\nof the imagination, and by shallow juggling with the association of\nideas. Even those who do not approve all Auguste Comte's arguments will\nagree with him when he classifies the successive steps in the mental\ndevelopment of mankind as the theological, transcendental, and\nscientific modes of thought. When man's understanding is in its infancy\nhe is content with a supernatural explanation of all phenomena which\nstrike him as mysterious, disquiet him or rouse his curiosity. Only I\nhave never been able to understand why Comte discriminates between the\ntheological and the transcendental modes of thought, and assigns to the\nlatter a higher place than the former. Both are on a footing of absolute\nequality; both raise arbitrary fictions of the imagination to the\nposition of sources of knowledge; both substitute anthropomorphic\ntrivialities for the observation of phenomena and research into the\nconditions under which they occur and their relationship to one another.\nThe only difference between them lies in the fact that transcendentalism\nexpresses itself in choicer language than does theology, that it\npresents formul\u00e6 that are more complicated and pretentious, less\ntransparent and honest--formul\u00e6 which the unpractised mind does not\nimmediately recognize as mythological dogmas in a pseudo-scientific\ndisguise.\n\nThe relationship of theological to transcendental thought is much the\nsame as that of superstition to religion. Both of them are one and the\nsame. Religion is shamefaced superstition, whereas superstition has not\nyet learned to feel shame. Religion is superstition in a dress-coat, and\ntherefore fit for polite circles; superstition is religion in a cotton\nsmock and therefore cannot be admitted to society. Superstition is the\nreligion of the poor and unassuming, religion is the superstition of\nfine folk who plume themselves on their formal and verbal scholarship.\n\nEver since man has risen above the level of the beasts, ever since the\nfirst faint glimmerings of thought began in the thick-walled, narrow and\ndark skull of a hunter of the Neanderthal or Cro Magnon, he has ascribed\neverything unintelligible in life and in the world around him to divine\nactions and divine sources. How did the world come into existence? A god\nor gods created it. How does Nature work? In accordance with the will of\na god or gods, in obedience to divine commands, as a result of divine\nactivities. What is life? A divine gift of grace. What is\nconsciousness? An irradiation of the divinity. What is infinity, what\neternity? Attributes of the god. God is the name that from the beginning\nof time to the present day men have given to their ignorance. They find\nit easier to bear disguised by this pseudonym; they are even proud of\nit. With cunning self-deception they have endowed the word with the\ndignity pertaining to a title of the most awe-inspiring majesty, and\nthey no longer feel ashamed of a poverty of mind which can boast of such\na magnificent name. Morality also is one of those phenomena which are\nnot intelligible as a matter of course. The questions how, whence, why,\nand to what end Morality exists, and what it is, cannot be solved at a\nglance; its life-history is not apparent to every observer, as is that\nof the domestic cat. But why cudgel one's brains? Cheap explanations are\nready to hand. This way mythology, you maid-of-all-work! Morality has\nbeen ordained by God. A moral life is one in accordance with God's\ncommandments. He who will not content himself with this answer is an\ninfidel and does not deserve to have any notice taken of him.\n\nLet us leave the paltry statements of theologians and note how men who\ninvestigate questions more thoroughly have dealt with Morality.\nDescartes defines Morality as the sustained endeavour to do that which\none has recognized to be right. It is difficult to discern in this\ndefinition the father of scientific scepticism. What are the\ndistinguishing marks of Right? Is the decision as to what is right and\nwhat is wrong to be left to the subjective judgment of the individual?\nIn that case Descartes must concede that the action of a burglar is\nmoral, if he has recognized that it is right for him to perpetrate his\ncrime between two and three o'clock in the morning, that being the most\nfavourable time for it, and then strives to the best of his ability to\neffect an entrance into the building he has selected, at the moment\nwhich he has recognized as the right one. Or shall all mankind, or at\nleast the majority, and not the individual, decide what is right? In\nthat case the definition would certainly approximate to the one which I\nhold to be true; but for one thing it would suffer from vagueness; and,\nmoreover, its originator would lay himself open to the reproach of not\nhaving shown why the individual is worthy of praise when he acts in\naccordance with the convictions of the majority, though these be opposed\nto his own, and in so doing allows his action to be determined by a\njudgment due to a psychic mechanism other than his.\n\nSpinoza's \"Ethics\" leaves the reader in great discomfort, the result of\nvacillating and contradictory explanations. Obviously Descartes' great\ndisciple had no clear conception of the essence of Morality and held\neither consecutively, or may be even simultaneously, divers views on the\nsubject, amongst which those of all schools of thought are either quite\nclearly expressed or at least implied. \"By Good,\" he says, \"I mean that\nwhich we know for certain to be useful to us.\"[1]\n\n  [1] I quote the wording of Berthold Auerbach's translation:\n      \"B. de Spinoza's collected works. Translated from the Latin\n      by Berthold Auerbach.\" Stuttgart, J. G. Cotta, 1871. Second\n      edition, Vol. II.\n\nAnd again: \"To act absolutely virtuously is merely to act, live,\npreserve one's being (these three mean the same thing) in accordance\nwith the dictates of Reason, because one seeks one's own interest.\"\n\nAccording to that Morality is synonymous with egoism, and its aim is\nman's individual profit or interest. Even the most pronounced\nUtilitarians among ethical theorists have not ventured to go to such\nlengths. True, they have contended that the aim of moral action is\nhappiness, but at least they define it as the happiness of the whole\ncommunity and not that of the individual, except in so far as he is a\nmember of the community and has his fair share of its well-being.\nSpinoza foresees the objection that the pursuit of one's own happiness\ncannot possibly deserve the universal esteem in which virtue is held,\nand he tries to adduce reasons whereby the egoism which he characterizes\nas moral may be justified and palliated:\n\n\"Everyone exists according to the supreme law of Nature, and\nconsequently everyone does, according to the supreme law of Nature, that\nwhich results from the necessities of his own nature; and therefore\nevery man forms his judgment as to what is good and bad according to the\nsupreme law of Nature, pursues his own interest according to his lights,\nseeks revenge, strives to preserve what he loves and to destroy what he\nhates.\" That is possibly the most audacious and at the same time the\nmost ill-founded statement that has ever been written on the subject of\nMorality. Morality means behaviour calculated to further one's own\ninterest. Morality is therefore utility. But man cannot act otherwise\nthan morally, since he always acts as he is compelled to do by his own\nnature. There is no sense in discriminating between good and bad, moral\nand immoral, since one always acts in accordance with the behests of\nNature. Man automatically executes the dictates of Nature which is alone\nresponsible for his deeds.\n\nFor the Stoics, too, Morality is action in accordance with the law of\nNature, but Spinoza goes further than the Stoics, in that he does away\nwith any universally applicable standard of moral conduct, and sets up\ninstead of Nature pure and simple, which is the same for all, each man's\nindividual nature as the authority which shall lay down rules of\nbehaviour for him. So Morality is something individual and subjective.\nMan acts according to the requirements of his interest; his own nature\nshows him what his interest requires; no other person has any right or\nany qualification to form a judgment upon the worth of his conduct, to\ncall it good or bad, for he cannot know what course of action the man's\npersonal nature, peculiar to himself and to no other, may prescribe to\nhim. This is the doctrine of anarchy and amorality put in a nutshell, a\nmore wordy paraphrase of the _Fais ce que vouldras_ (please yourself),\nthe terse inscription that Rabelais put over the entrance to his Abbey\nof Th\u00e9l\u00e8me, as the only law governing that abode of alluring wantonness.\nSpinoza certainly does half-heartedly concede to Reason the r\u00f4le which\nAristotle positively assigns to it (\"To act in an absolutely virtuous\nmanner is merely to act according to the guidance of Reason,\" etc.), but\nit is impossible to see how Reason can exercise guidance and control if\n\"everyone does according to the supreme law of Nature that which\nresults from the necessities of his nature.\" This can surely only mean\nthat everyone may yield to the unbridled desires of his natural\ninstincts, which is the very reverse of self-control by Reason. If\nNature is to rule despotically, there is obviously no place for a\nconstitutional limitation of her sole power by the effective counsel and\nprotests of Reason.\n\nBut Spinoza renounces in a much more definite way his views recognizing\nthe right of every individual \"to form his judgment as to what is good\nand bad according to the supreme law of Nature,\" for he calmly adds:\n\"Society can be founded, if it reserves to itself the right possessed by\nthe individual to take revenge, and to pronounce a verdict on what is\ngood and what is bad; thereby it acquires the power to prescribe rules\nof conduct for the community, to make laws, and to enforce them, not by\nmeans of Reason, which cannot restrict passions, but by threats....\nHence in a state of Nature, sin cannot even be imagined.\"\n\nThis concession to Society most emphatically contradicts his first\ndefinition of Morality. It does away with the right claimed for the\nindividual \"to do according to the supreme law of Nature that which\nresults from the necessities of his own nature,\" and by the same\n\"supreme law of Nature\" to \"judge what is good and what is bad.\" It\nsubjects conduct to the restraint, not of Nature, but of Society. It\nbears witness to the admission that \"Reason cannot restrict passions,\"\nalthough Spinoza has just required the virtuous man to \"act according to\nthe guidance of Reason.\" Spinoza admits that Morality is not the\nconsequence of a law inherent in the individual, but of an extraneous\nlaw forced upon him by society; that it is not an individual but a\nsocial phenomenon. In this he agrees with the conclusions of modern\nsociological thought, but his merit is much diminished by the fact that\nhe skims lightly over the one great difficulty which sociological ethics\nis struggling to overcome. He says, society \"reserves to itself the\nright ... to pronounce a verdict on what is good and what is bad, and\nthereby acquires the power to prescribe rules of conduct to the\ncommunity,\" etc.\n\nIt has the power right enough; police, judge, prison and gallows bear\nwitness to that; but has it the right? That is not clear without further\ninvestigation. It requires to be proved. The amoralist can emphatically\ndeny this, basing his conclusion on Spinoza's own definition. He can\nlegitimately declare that he need submit to no dictates of society, that\nhe owes obedience only to his own nature and his own inner needs, and\nthe moral philosopher can only prove to him that he is wrong by\nscornfully indicating the penal code and its stalwart minions.\n\nSpinoza, we see, has already given a whole series of mutually\ndestructive and contradictory definitions of Morality: it is the law of\nlife and conduct which society lays down for the individual, though we\ndo not learn from him on what principles it is based; it is the pursuit\nof one's own interest as indicated by Reason; it is obedience to\nnecessity--that is to say, to the demands of one's own nature. All this\ndoes not suffice him. He discovers a new aspect of Morality.\n\"Recognition of Good and Evil is nothing but a pleasurable or a\ndisagreeable emotion in so far as we are conscious of it.\" And again,\n\"Pleasure is not actually bad (as the ascetics probably contend), but\ngood; pain, on the contrary, is actually bad.\"\n\nIn this case the ideas pleasure and pain are treated as equivalents of\ngood and bad, as were useful and harmful in the former case. According\nto the axiom that things that are equal to the same thing must be equal\nto one another, pleasurable is synonymous not only with good, but also\nwith beneficial, and in like manner painful with bad and harmful. Brandy\nundoubtedly produces a sensation of pleasure in the drinker; is brandy,\nthen, good in a moral sense? Above all, is it beneficial? Many such\nquestions could be put to Spinoza, but this one is enough.\n\nThus we discover Spinoza to be at one and the same time a Utilitarian\nand a Hedonist, the champion of Impulse and again of Reason, an\nanarchistic individualist and a herald of the right of society to rule\nthe individual. Angry and disappointed, we turn from him, for instead of\nfinding in him the definite standard we sought we have met with the\nshifting hues of the chameleon and the uncanny changes of form of\nProteus.\n\nThe views of the English thinkers are clearer and more convincing\nalthough they, too, do not carry their investigations far enough. Hobbes\nuses Justice and Injustice as synonyms for Morality and Immorality, and\nhe definitely recognizes what Spinoza only dimly guessed, namely, that\nthese ideas could only arise in man when living as a member of society\nand not in a being dwelling alone. According to him, therefore, Morality\nis a social and not an individual phenomenon; just as the moral\nphilosophers of the theological school look upon it as the Will of God,\nso he considers it to be the Will of Society. But he was under the\nobligation (non-existent for the theologian) to trace to its source this\nsocial Will, to show how it is manifested, to explain why the individual\nnot only submits to it, but values this submission far more highly than\nmere utility. Man learns the Will of God by revelation, and it is\nforbidden to inquire into its basis. To the Will of Society Hobbes\ncannot possibly ascribe the same incontestable sanctity. It should not\nhave escaped his notice that this Will is neither uniform nor of assured\nstability, and that it often wavers and is sometimes self-contradictory.\nTherefore, if he wants to call the Will of Society Justice, as the\ntheologians call the Will of God Morality, and if he wants to look upon\nJustice and Morality as equivalents, then it is his duty to explain how\nSociety can make claims which conflict with the principles on which the\nuniversal rules it has drawn up are based, and which, consequently, not\nbeing just or moral, are unjust and immoral, but which, nevertheless,\nmust be acknowledged by the individual as being both just and moral,\nsimply because they are social claims.\n\nIn Kant's moral philosophy we find the extremest form of mystic\ndogmatism; its success would be inexplicable did one not know how prone\nmankind is to be intimidated by brusque statements. Kant's dictatorial\npronouncements have become common-places. \"Act only on that maxim\nwhereby thou canst at the same time will that it should become a\nuniversal law.\" That is very impressive. But what is \"the maxim\" on\nwhich you act? This maxim is the moral law. Now we yearn to know what\nthis moral law is, whence it comes, and on what it is based.\n\nBut our yearnings remains unsatisfied. The moral law is a secret. It is\nan incomprehensible power which rules our consciousness. Ask no\nquestions. Be silent, submit and obey. Even the theologian discussing\nmoral philosophy will listen to reason. He gives us the information,\nsibylline though it be, that the moral law emanates from the Will of\nGod, and is shown to us in the revelations of religion. Kant does not\neven give such meagre information. The moral law exists. That must\nsuffice. \"The starry heavens above thee, the moral law within thee.\" You\nretort that that is a metaphor which you may call poetical, if you like,\nbut it is no explanation. You will get the following reply: this\nmetaphor, rightly understood, indicates that the moral law is eternal,\nthat it is part and parcel of uncreated Nature like the stars, that it\nis a phenomenon of the same order as all the elements that go to make up\nthe universe. \"The moral law does not flow from antecedent ideas of Good\nand Evil; on the contrary, the moral law decides what is good and what\nis evil.\" It is not derived from human experience. The less so since\n\"it cannot be proved by experience that it has at any place or any time\nbecome real.\" In other words, no one can testify that the \"Categorical\nImperative\" has ever been realized, that the moral law has \"at any place\nor any time\" ceased to be a Kantian theory productive of sacred thrills,\nthat it has ever emerged from the unapproachable cell wherein it dwells\nin the temple of human consciousness, to take a place and play an active\npart among mortals.\n\nThe lessee of all Kant's wisdom, Hermann Cohen, with the clumsiness of\nan over-zealous assistant, has expressed his master's thought in a\nperfectly ludicrous form: \"The moral law is to be conceived as a reality\nof such kind that it must exist, that its being must be\" (note the\nelegance and euphony of the phrase \"being must be\"!) \"even if no\ncreature existed for whom it would be valid.\" True, the moral law is a\nmaxim on which you should \"act,\" a standard of human conduct, but it\nwould still exist if there were no human beings and no action. It would\ncome to exactly the same thing if Hermann Cohen said: the railway is to\nbe conceived as a reality of such kind that it must exist if there were\nno human beings and consequently no travellers; even if there were no\nearth on the surface of which rails and sleepers could be laid. This is\nsuch palpable nonsense that it would be a work of supererogation to\nprove its absurdity. By this grotesque exaggeration Hermann Cohen has\nclearly brought to light the hollowness and weakness of Kant's Moral\nphilosophy which culminates in the \"Categorical Imperative.\" In spite\nof its arbitrary dogmatism, the formula of the \"Categorical Imperative\"\nhas taken a hold on the imagination of the superficially educated, and\nhas never ceased to be repeated with the fervour evinced by a devout man\nat prayer, by several generations of those who have made it their\nbusiness to cultivate mental and moral science.\n\nIn one of his early novels, \"The Island of Dr. Moreau,\" H. G. Wells has\ndescribed how an audacious scientist, by performing an operation on the\nbrains of the most savage beasts of prey, such as panthers, wolves,\netc., transformed them into creatures with the powers of thought and\nspeech. He succeeds in suppressing, or at least in lulling for the time\nbeing, their bloodthirsty instincts, but he is always afraid that these\nmay be roused again, and forbids the animals on which he experiments to\ntouch blood or fresh meat. He takes good care to give no reason for this\nprohibition. He merely issues it sternly and threateningly. It is \"the\nLaw,\" an unknown, inexplicable, but terrible power to which one must\nsubmit, because opposition would expose one to unimaginable, but\nterrible evils. If temptation assails the beasts they flee it,\nwhispering fearfully and warningly to one another: \"The Law! the Law!\"\nWells is a trained philosopher, and often has his tongue in his cheek. I\nshrewdly suspect that when he writes of the mysterious \"Law\" which fills\nDr. Moreau's semi-humanized beasts of prey with superstitious terror, he\nis poking fun at Kant's \"Categorical Imperative.\"\n\nThe great logical mistake in Kant's moral philosophy is that he\nconceives Morality as a social or collective phenomenon, and yet\ndefines it as an individual one. According to Kant, the Categorical\nImperative exists within us. It is as immutable as the starry heavens\nabove us. It gives us the criterion by which to discriminate between\ngood and evil. Its realm is our consciousness wherein it lives and\nrules; it is not introduced from outside, it springs from no power or\nconditions outside our person. All the same, the only law which this\nultra subjective Categorical Imperative imposes on us is the most\ncentrifugal that can possibly be imagined: \"Act only on that maxim\nwhereby thou canst at the same time will that it should become a\nuniversal law.\" Hence our action is designed to produce an effect on the\nworld around us. It is \"to become a universal law\" can, of course, only\nmean, it is to become a universal law of human society, for Kant cannot\npossibly have aspired to make the Categorical Imperative impose laws\nupon the stars in their courses. Our moral law, in so far as it applies\nto our actions, deals with society. When we formulate it in our minds,\nwe associate it from its first inception with the notion of the society\nto which it is to be applied. It would have been logical to say: \"Your\nstandard of conduct is to be what society recognizes as its universal\nlaw.\" But Kant puts the cart before the horse and says on the contrary:\n\"The maxims on which thy action is based are by thy will to become the\nuniversal law of society.\"\n\nOther philosophers have avoided this mistake. Hegel declares: \"It is not\nuntil man becomes a member of a moral community that the ideas of Duty\nand Virtue attain a definite meaning and become direct representatives\nof a universal spirit in subjectivity, which knows that it is actuated\nin its aim by the universal and realizes that its dignity and its\nparticular aims are founded upon it.\" If we translate this horribly hazy\nlanguage of Hegel's into plain speech we find it means: \"The ideas of\nDuty and Virtue only acquire a meaning when they are applied to the acts\nof commission and omission of the individual member of a community.\"\n(When Hegel speaks of \"moral community\" his use of the word \"moral\" is\ninadmissible, for he takes it for granted that the meaning of the word\n\"moral\" has been determined and is clearly understood, whereas he ought\nfirst to have defined its meaning.) The concepts of Duty and Virtue\ndenote that the individual in taking action thinks of the community,\nthat regard for its interests determines him, that his actions do not\nattain dignity and worth until his aim becomes the interests of the\ncommunity, that these interests must coincide with those of the\nindividual if his actions in his own interests are to merit the\nappellations of dutiful and virtuous. In short: to act morally is to act\nso as to ensure the well-being of the community. The real Categorical\nImperative is a social conscience.\n\nFeuerbach expresses this thought clearly and distinctly when he says:\n\"There can be no question of Morality in the strict sense of the word\nexcept where the subject of discussion is the relationship of man to\nman, of one person to another, of me to thee.\"\n\nRecent contemporary French writers are in no way doubtful of the\nmeaning implied by the concept of Morality. \"Morality,\" says Littr\u00e9,\n\"is the whole collection of rules which determine our conduct towards\nothers. Moral Good is the ideal, which at any period of a civilization\nforms opinions and customs with respect to this conduct; moral evil is\nthat which offends this ideal.\" This definition is very incomplete and\nweak, as will be seen in the course of our remarks, but on one point it\nis quite clear: it treats Morality as a social phenomenon, it\nparaphrases it as the adjustment of individual action to the standard\nset up by the community. The question of the origin and the aim of this\nstandard is left open.\n\nL. L\u00e9vy-Br\u00fchl formulates Littr\u00e9's idea more clearly. \"We call by the\nname of Morality the collection of such conceptions, opinions, feelings\nand customs respecting the mutual rights and duties of men in their life\nas members of a community, as are recognized and generally observed at a\ngiven time in a given civilization.\"\n\nThus, according to some, Morality is subjection to an absolute law of\ndivine, or at any rate of unexplained and inexplicable origin, which\nreligion or a mysterious inner voice reveals to man; according to\nothers, it is the recognition that the claims of the community, or at\nany rate of the majority of one's fellow men, are of binding force upon\nthe actions of the individual. These different answers to an inquiry as\nto the origin of Morality both contain the tacit admission that it is a\nlaw which peremptorily dictates to man what he shall do and what he\nshall not do. But by means of what psychic mechanism does this law\nenforce obedience in the consciousness of man? It is remarkable that all\nmoral philosophers, no matter to what age, nation or school they belong,\ndimly feel or clearly recognize that in civilized man at any rate,\nnatural instincts and judgment are always at war; that the latter\nopposes the former; that in the victory of judgment over impulse lies\nthe very essence of Morality; that consequently the essence of Morality\nimplies the control and repression of instinct by Reason--in a word,\nthat it is inhibition.\n\nWe have seen that Aristotle, in definite though unconscious opposition\nto the Stoics, who consider Morality synonymous with Nature, defines it\nas the activity of Reason.\n\nHenry More was the first to express this quite clearly: \"Virtue is an\nintellectual force of the soul which enables it to control ... animal\ninstincts and sensual passions.\"\n\nAnd Dr. Jodl sums up the character of Christian morality in the\nstatement: \"Moral philosophy under the influence of Christian ideas\nmakes Morality always appear in the guise of a prohibition; at any rate\nit is apt to conceive Morality as acting in an essentially restrictive\nand prohibitive manner upon the natural impulses and instincts of man.\"\n\nThis is not quite correct. This Christian code of morals does not always\nmanifest itself as a prohibition. Its main precept is: \"Love thy\nneighbour as thyself.\" That is not a prohibition but a positive command.\nNevertheless, the point of departure of this command is an inhibition.\nFor the first instinctive movement of man is selfishness and, as its\nconsequence, indifference to one's neighbour; the first imperious\nimpulse is to sacrifice the latter's interests to one's own. But if\nregard for one's neighbour, nay, love for him permeates our feelings,\nthoughts and actions, that denotes a victory of Christian ideas over the\nimpulse of instinct, a suppression of that impulse--that is, an\ninhibition which, not content with mere prevention, prolongs its\nefficacy in the same direction until it changes the impulse of\nselfishness and inconsiderateness into its very antithesis, that of\nunselfishness and charity.\n\nIt constitutes an important advance in knowledge to recognize that\nMorality, and not, as Jodl makes out, only Christian Morality, is\nmanifested as an inhibition, as the victory achieved by Reason over\nInstinct which is contemptuously described as animal, simply because its\nworth is judged by a standard already supplied by current views on\nMorals. It is inadmissible to judge by this standard when one attempts\nan impartial investigation into the ultimate foundations and the essence\nof Morality. We have no plainly obvious right--no right which does not\nrequire a proof--simply to scorn instinct as animal; to run it down from\nthe start and with a respectful bow to give Reason precedence over it;\nto applaud with satisfaction the suppression of rascally Instinct by\nhighly respectable Reason. Instinct is no more animal than any other\nmanifestation of life in man; and he indulges in pleasant self-deception\nif he imagines that he is other than an animal, that is, a living\norganism in which all processes take place according to the same laws as\nin all other living beings, from the simplest one-celled creature to\nthe most highly developed and complicated.\n\nIn itself Instinct has the same claim to dignity as Reason; according to\nsome people an even greater one, because the former is more primitive,\nunpremeditated, self-assured and firmly established than the latter, and\nif Reason claims to be the superior, it must substantiate that claim.\n\nAs a matter of fact, that claim has never been universally acknowledged.\n\nPeriods during which Reason rules at least in name and is treated with\nthe obsequious reverence which the model citizen has, or feigns to have,\nfor his sovereign, are followed by others in which Instinct revolts;\nrebels dethrone Reason and set up Instinct in its place, or, as they\ncall it, passion and nature. The parties which in turn wield power in\nthese periodic revolutions may be briefly termed classical and romantic.\nThe classicists are the legitimist supporters of Reason; the\nromanticists are revolutionaries, and their leaders are men like Cleon\nor Jack Cade, Cromwell, Washington or Robespierre; that is to say, rude\ndemagogues or subtle dialecticians in favour of Instinct. Among the\nlegitimists in Reason as in politics, are to be found those who maintain\nthe divine right, who base the right of Reason to rule over Instinct\nupon the Will of God, and others again, the constitutionalists, who base\ntheir support on the Will of the people, on universal suffrage, who\nforce upon Instinct the law promulgated by society. I need not carry the\nmetaphor to extremes. Every reader can work it out in all its details.\nI only wanted to show quite clearly that almost all moral philosophers\nconceived Morality as a struggle between Reason and Instinct, as the\ndefeat of lawlessness by law. But their views diverge widely when they\ntry to explain the source of this law and its claim to obedience.\n\nThe theologians find no difficulty in this explanation. Just as the\nessence of Morality according to their ideas is the nearest possible\napproximation to divine perfection, so the moral law is one enacted by\nGod Himself, and it is a sin punishable with hell fire to fail to\nobserve it or to rebel against it. Others look upon Man as his own\nlaw-giver, and trace his moral conduct, his willingness to combat his\nown instincts, to an inner voice which teaches him what is right. They\ncall this inner voice by different names. They call it Nature, Reason or\nConscience, and look upon it as something innate, as a normal\nconstituent of man's psychic nature. That is the meaning of Fichte's\napodictic statement: \"That which does not meet with the approval of\none's own conscience is necessarily sin. Therefore he who acts on anyone\nelse's authority acts in a conscienceless manner.\"\n\nWith this emphatic utterance Fichte dismisses both the devout believers,\nfor whom Morality is the revealed Will of God, and the Rationalists who\nlook upon it as the dictate of society. He considers that if man claims\nto act morally, he can do so only on his own authority, i.e. on that of\nhis conscience. He is not aware that in so doing he frivolously abandons\nall rights to pronounce an objective moral judgment on any human action.\nHe thereby relinquishes the power to ask any further question except:\n\"Did he act in accordance with his own conscience? If so, then he has\nacted in a subjectively conscientious way, even if it appears to me to\nbe immoral or even criminal and monstrous. If he has acted contrary to\nthe promptings of his own conscience, then he is assuredly a sinner,\neven if his action be in my eyes splendid and exemplary.\" Thus Fichte,\nwith his subjective basis of Morality, is led to a conclusion which is a\nludicrous reversal of generally accepted ideas. According to him, a man\nwould be acting conscientiously if, despising what all others hold good,\nright and sacred, he wallows in the satisfaction of his selfish\ninstincts, as long as his conscience approves or even bids him do so; on\nthe other hand, he is a sinner if, in opposition to his inner voice, but\naccording to moral law, that is in obedience to extraneous authority, he\npractices all the virtues.\n\nAll these subjective moral philosophers tacitly assume with Rousseau\nthat man is by nature good. They take no account of the empirically\nestablished fact that there are men whose Fichtean conscience, or whose\nKantian categorical imperative, urges them to a course of action which\naccording to the general opinion is bad, wicked and revolting. This\ncriticism applies to Beneke, according to whom Morality is \"a\ndevelopment of human nature which exists as such within us, and which we\nneed only continue or promote\"; it applies equally to Reid and Dugald\nStewart, who describe it as an inclination, which has become a habit or\na principle, to act according to the dictates of conscience. But\nconscience must be explained. It is by no means self-evident that each\nindividual conscience will have the same standard of good and evil. The\nmoral philosopher must not shirk the duty of showing how the conscience\nacquires its concepts of moral values, with what weapons it provides\nReason to combat Instinct, which demands satisfaction without paying any\nattention to the warnings of conscience.\n\nThe great majority of moral philosophers do not endorse the view of Kant\nand Fichte, that conscience is a piece of human nature, a sense inborn\nin man, an inner voice that is independent of, and unmoved by, external\ninfluences; on the contrary, they are convinced that conscience\noriginates outside the individual, that, in his consciousness, it is the\nadvocate retained by society, commissioned to plead the cause of the\ncommunity before the reason of the individual even, nay, especially,\nwhen the interests of the community run counter to those of the\nindividual.\n\nBacon calls the presence in our consciousness of a defender of the\ninterests of society our innate social affection, and treats it\nunreservedly as the source of Morality. Long before his time the\nStoics had noted the existence of this social affection and called it\n[Greek: oikei\u00f4sis]; Hugo Grotius, with the intellectual perspicuity\npeculiar to himself, says that \"Right and Morality flow from the same\nsource, and this source is a strong social instinct natural to man, it\nis solicitude for the community, a solicitude guided by Reason.\" The\nEnglish philosophers are practically unanimous in ascribing both\nconscience and Morality in general to a social source. The welfare of\nthe community, says Richard Cumberland, is the highest moral law;\nHutcheson remarks that, in the struggle between egoism and universal\nbenevolence, the decisive factor in favour of the latter is the\naccompanying feeling, the reflective emotion of approval.\n\nIn modern parlance we call \"universal benevolence,\" altruism, and the\n\"reflective emotion of approval\" is a paraphrase of conscience which\ncontains an indication of its mode of action. For the idea that our\naction will meet with the approval of the community and the pleasurable\nemotion of satisfaction are in fact the reasons why we mostly submit to\nthe dictates of conscience voicing the commands of the community. Only\nHutcheson is too venturesome and goes too far, when he maintains\nunreservedly that the reflective emotion of approval in the struggle\nbetween egoism and universal benevolence is the decisive factor which\nturns the scales in favour of the latter. This is by no means always the\ncase. When it does occur we call the action moral, but we characterize\nit as immoral when, in spite of the \"reflective emotion of approval\"\n\"universal benevolence\" is worsted by egoism.\n\nIt is unnecessary to quote the opinions of other moral philosophers.\nIt is enough to observe that most of them describe the moral law as a\nsocial agreement and make conscience its accredited representative.\nL. L\u00e9vy-Br\u00fchl repeats a doctrine current since the days of Pythagoras\nwhen he says: \"The sense of duty and that of responsibility, horror of\ncrime, love of what is good and reverence for justice--all these, which\na conscience sensitive to Morality thinks it derives from itself and\nfrom itself alone, have nevertheless a social origin\"; and Feuerbach\nexpresses the same view in an entertainingly melodramatic fashion when\nhe calls the voice of conscience \"An echo of the cry of revenge uttered\nby the injured party.\" This cry of revenge would never wake an echo in\nus if we did not possess a sounding board which cries of distress and\nlamentation cause to vibrate. Schopenhauer, digging deeper than his\npredecessor, clearly recognizes this sounding board, and describes its\ncharacteristics when he says that the foundation of ethics is pity,\nwhich in its passive form warns us: \"_Neminem laede!_ Do harm to no\none!\" And in its active form gives the order: \"_Imo omnes quantum potes\njuva!_ Assist everyone with all your might!\"\n\nThe assumption, that sympathy with his neighbour must be present in\nman's consciousness before he is capable of moral action, is one that\nneed not be made by subjective moral philosophers, who hold with Kant\nand his school that the moral law is an inborn categorical imperative,\nwhich proclaims its commands without reference to any extraneous object,\nor to the world, or mankind.\n\nIn the same way the theologians have no need of it, for they consider\nthat what is morally good is the Will of God.\n\nBut he who holds with the moral philosophers of sociological tendencies\nthat Morality is regard for one's fellow men, and the recognition that\nthe claims of the real or supposed interest of the community are\nsuperior to those of the comfort of the individual, must admit that\nsympathy is a necessary preliminary to moral action; i.e. that the\nindividual must have the ability to picture the sufferings of others so\nvividly that he feels their sorrows as his own, and with all his might\nand all his will strives to prevent, alleviate and heal them. The lack\nof this ability, psychic an\u00e6sthesia, is a symptom of disease. It renders\nthe person affected incapable of moral action. It is a characteristic of\nthe born criminal, and is the essential symptom of that state of mind\nwhich alienists term moral insanity. Even in this condition, if reason\nand the power of judgment are not affected, great offences against\ncurrent moral law can be avoided. But this results from the fear of the\npainful and ruinous results which a collision with public opinion\nentails, even if the offender is not actually haled into court. It is\nnot due to any inner necessity, nor to the prompting of one's own\nfeelings.\n\nOnly the Rationalists have any cause or reason to inquire into the aims\nof Morality, whether they look upon the moral law as dictated by society\nor are of the opinion that it is the sum total of the rules by which\nReason, of its own initiative, successfully combats the urging of\nInstinct. If the moral law is a creation of society, and is obeyed by\nthe individual out of sympathy with his fellow-men or consideration for\nsociety, the logical conclusion is that society has set up the moral law\nto satisfy some real or imagined need. Its aim in this case can only be\nthe real or supposed welfare of the community. This is the most widely\naccepted view.\n\n\"Morality and universal welfare,\" says Macchiavelli, \"are conceptions\nwhich coincide.\" In his calm assurance this apodictic writer, who\ndoubtlessly slept well and had an excellent digestion, is never troubled\nby a doubt as to whether there is such a thing as an absolutely reliable\nmeasure of universal welfare, and therefore whether Morality, which is\ntermed its equivalent, can provide us with a perfectly unimpeachable\nstandard. He whose ethical conscience is more tender and timid will\ninevitably anxiously ask himself: Who decides what universal welfare\ndemands and what is conducive to it? Is it to be the masses? Is the mob,\nincapable of thought, ignorant, swayed by momentary and shifting\nimpulses, to make moral laws for the select few who are its natural\nguides? What tragedies would necessarily result from this definition!\nHow often a strong personality, trained to come to independent\nconclusions, refuses to obey the voice of the mob! Is the sheep who\ntrots bleating along with the herd to be taken as the type of a moral\nbeing? Must we necessarily condemn as immoral those who swim against the\nstream, enlightened tyrants who force upon their people hateful\ninnovations calculated to ensure their welfare,--such men as Peter the\nGreat, the Emperor Joseph II, the reformer who comes into violent\nconflict with the majority who are creatures of habit? \"The aim of\nMorality is the welfare of society; this is indeed the essence of\nMorality.\" A sufficiently safe and most soothing formula this seems; but\nreally the security it gives is most deceptive, and it leaves unsolved\nthe most important problems relating to the phenomenon of Morality.\n\nA numerous group of moral philosophers seeks the aim of moral conduct\nin the individual himself, not outside him. In spite of Schopenhauer's\nsympathy, they doubt that consideration for the well-being of the\ncommunity would act forcibly enough upon the individual to induce him to\nwage unceasing war on his impulses and struggle to overcome them. Rather\nthey hold that the individual must find in his inner consciousness not\nonly the spur to moral action, but also the reward for the same, and\nthey characterize this driving force as pleasurable emotions in every\nsense of the words. According to them man acts morally because, and in\nso far as, he anticipates pleasurable results from so doing. Epicurus\nconsiders the aim of Morality always to be Pleasure. He makes only the\none reservation, that a reasonable man will renounce an immediate\npleasure for the sake of a greater one in the future, and that he may\ndelight in the anticipation of pleasurable emotions which defeat and\ndull present pains. Thus the martyr may be a true Epicurean, even if by\nhis actions he exposes himself to most cruel torture and the most\npainful death, for he is convinced that the everlasting joys of paradise\nwill more than indemnify him for his temporary sufferings.\n\nI have already shown that Aristotle considers Morality the activity of\npractical Reason, which is accompanied by pleasurable emotions. He makes\nthese pleasurable emotions an essential part of Morality, and Spinoza\nshares this view, for he says: \"Knowledge of good and evil is nothing\nbut a pleasurable or a disagreeable emotion in so far as we are\nconscious of it.\"\n\nNo less roundly, one might almost say brutally, Leibnitz declares: \"We\nterm good that which gives us pleasure; evil that which gives us pain,\"\nwhile Feuerbach expresses himself rather more carefully and indefinitely\nthus: \"The instinct for happiness is the most potent of all instincts.\nWhere existence always occurs together with volition, volition and the\nwill to be happy are inseparable; they are, indeed, essentially one. 'I\nwill,' means 'I have the will not to suffer, not to be hindered and\ndestroyed, but, on the contrary, to be assisted and preserved; that is,\nI have the will to be happy.'\" This is a wordy paraphrase of Spinoza's:\n\"All existence is self-assertion, and Morality is only the highest and\npurest form of this fundamental instinct in a reasonable being.\"\n\nAmong those moral philosophers who see in pleasurable emotions the aim\nof Morality, its reward and its incentive, we must distinguish two\ngroups: those who understand by pleasurable emotions such as appeal to\nthe senses--the Hedonists; and those who spiritualize the meaning of the\nword and expect of Morality not an immediate bodily gratification, a\npleasure, or an insipid satisfaction of the sense, but lasting\nhappiness--the Eud\u00e6monists. At the first glance the Eud\u00e6monists seem to\nhave a higher and more worthy conception of the subjective reaction of\nmoral conduct than have the Hedonists; for the satisfaction the former\nexpect and promise does not apply to the lower spheres of our organic\nlife, but to the loftiest functions of our mind, from which alone a\nfeeling of happiness can emanate.\n\nBut if we look into the matter more closely we find that to draw a sharp\ndistinction between the Hedonists and Eud\u00e6monists is more than a little\narbitrary. For Pleasure and Happiness differ hardly at all in\nessentials, but chiefly in degree; and this would at once be obvious if\none only took the trouble to define the two ideas, which, however, is\nmostly not done. And with good reason, for it is impossible to explain\nPleasure. You can use synonyms for it; you can look wise and say:\nPleasure is that which is agreeable, or that which one desires, that in\nwhich one delights, or a certain quality of feeling which accompanies\nsuch organic processes as strengthen or vitalize the system; but all\nthat this amounts to is to say in a roundabout way, Pleasure is\nPleasure. It is a fundamental fact of our inner consciousness, just as\ninexplicable as life, or as its antithesis, Pain. But if we assume that\nPleasure is something given by subjective experience, then the idea of\nHappiness can be defined. Happiness is a flooding of the consciousness\nwith sunshine; it is enjoyment of the moment, a sense of living in the\npresent accentuated by pleasurable emotion. If this feeling is\norganically differentiated, that is, if it springs from a certain\nsection of the mind or mechanism of the body and can be located there,\nit is ecstasy. It is only felt as Happiness when it is, so to speak,\nmelted, dissolved, distributed throughout the organism,\ncoenesthetically diffused.\n\nIf we agree to this definition we can take Eud\u00e6monism into consideration\nas an aim of moral action, but Hedonism we shall have to discard from\nthe start. If Morality is to be inhibition, a victory of Reason over\nInstinct, then it cannot possibly arouse Pleasure, since the first and\nmost immediate source of Pleasure is the surrender to instinct, the\nsatisfaction of the organic appetites; but if one resists them,\nsuppresses them, then one experiences a privation which at best\noccasions discomfort and may easily cause pain. By its very nature and\nthe mechanism by which it works, Morality can therefore give rise to no\npleasure, but only to discomfort. All the same, it can afford a feeling\nof happiness.\n\nIt may be objected that I am guilty of a contradiction when I assume the\npossibility of Happiness without Pleasure, as I have just described\nHappiness as a particular kind of Pleasure; but in reality there is no\ncontradiction. For Pleasure springs from a special organic apparatus,\nwhereas Happiness is not a condition of any particular apparatus in our\nbody, but a general feeling that cannot be located; if it is roused by\nmoral actions it originates in the self-satisfaction of Reason, in its\npride in the victory over Instinct, in the rapture occasioned by one's\nown strength of will; therefore, it can well exist without any\ndifferentiated pleasurable emotion located in any particular organic\napparatus.\n\nMany moral philosophers have for various reasons rejected plausible\nEud\u00e6monism as well as Hedonism, and these reasons can all be traced back\nto the recognition, or at least an inkling, of the fact that moral\naction in the nature of things must exclude pleasurable emotions; at any\nrate immediate ones, and such as are perceived by the senses. Perhaps\nFichte does this in the most na\u00efve fashion, for he rejects every form of\nEud\u00e6monism as the aim of moral action, but admits as its purpose only\nbliss, that is to say, the self-satisfaction of Reason resulting from\naction in accordance with its own laws. However, he struggles in vain to\ndeny that this \"bliss\" is of the nature of a pleasurable emotion, or to\ninterpret it as differing from Eud\u00e6monism. He is only giving the latter\nanother name to make it conform in an orthodox manner with his doctrine\nof the Supreme Ego. \"_Baptizo te carpam!_\" I baptize thee, carp! In this\nway the pious man complies with the law enjoining abstinence from meat,\nand with an easy conscience smacks his lips over a roast pheasant which\nhe has dubbed fish.\n\nPlato is among those who most emphatically deny that Pleasure is either\nthe motive force, the accompaniment, the consequence, or the aim of\nMorality. But a reasonable thinker can derive no profit from his\narguments in support of this point of view, for they are rambling,\nfantastic, mystical and visionary. Plato thinks it a necessary\nconsequence of the very nature of Good that it should be absolutely\nself-sufficient. For Pleasure is a perpetual growth, a ceaseless longing\nfor more; it can therefore not be self-sufficient, and on this account\ncan not be the foundation of Morality.\n\nHowever, it is by no means obvious why Morality should not be in a\nperpetual state of growth (just as Pleasure is, according to Plato), or\nwhy it should not constantly desire an increase of its own activities.\nOn the contrary, this craving is just what one would most wish Morality\nto have. True, it would not then attain self-satisfaction. But what is\nthe good of this self-satisfaction? It is a pleasurable emotion, and\naccording to Plato Morality is supposed to have nothing in common with\nPleasure. It is not to be contentment and serene satisfaction, but\nrather tireless endeavour. However, Plato, of course, cannot admit this,\nbecause for him Good and the deity are identical, and being perfect can\ntherefore advance no farther in perfection; and the striving after Good\nis merely an effort of memory on man's part to call to mind more clearly\nthe deity whom he saw in his spiritual life before birth, and of whom he\nretains a dim and confused memory in his earthly life. It is plainly\nidle to waste reasonable criticism upon such visionary arguments.\n\nThe Stoics, too, try to sever the connexion between moral conduct and\nPleasure, and to conceive the former as a simple activity of human\nnature, one, moreover, from which they expect no particular\nsatisfaction. They overlook the fact that every activity of the impulses\nand instincts of man's own nature affords him satisfaction, and that\nPleasure is nothing but this very satisfaction of natural instincts. If,\nthen, Morality were, as the Stoics contend, only \"Life in harmony with\nNature herself,\" then, like every other satisfaction of natural desires,\nit should be an ever-flowing source of pleasurable emotions, and this\ncharacteristic would be inseparable from it, though the Stoics may\nvainly try to deny it.\n\nChristianity has an easier job than Stoicism. With harsh severity,\ndisregarding any plea for indulgence in view of the weakness of the\nflesh, it absolutely excludes the factor of pleasure from the fulfilment\nof moral duties. But this severity is only apparent. The good and just\nman can expect no reward for his moral conduct here on earth, but he\nwill find a much more ample one in the life to come. To the devout\nbeliever who gives unlimited credit to it, the promise of the joys of\nparadise has the full value of a cash disbursement. It is somewhat\nchildish juggling with words to deny pleasurable emotion to be the aim\nof moral conduct if at the same time a most vivid foretaste of the\neternal bliss which awaits him after death be given to the virtuous man;\nas if the anticipation of heavenly bliss were not a pleasurable emotion\nof the highest degree!\n\nKant finds it due to his point of view to spurn every weak inclination\nto Eud\u00e6monism. A Categorical Imperative cannot issue commands with an\neye to profit or comfort. That is as clear as daylight. \"All Morality of\naction must be founded on the necessity which arises from duty and\nrespect for the law, and not from love or inclination for the desired\nresult of the action.\" Schopenhauer, Feuerbach, and John Stuart Mill\nhave recorded such irrefutable criticisms of the Kantian doctrine of the\nabsolute disinterestedness of moral action, that it is unnecessary to\nadd to their arguments.\n\nOnly some moral philosophers, and particularly Mill, are guilty of\nlogical inaccuracy when they reject Eud\u00e6monism but retain Utility as the\naim of morality. Why do the Utilitarians not realize that they are\nmerely Eud\u00e6monists under another name, and that he who disregards his\nown immediate interests in order to further the well-being of the\ncommunity experiences a pleasurable emotion of high order in the\nsatisfaction he derives from the sacrifices whereby he has contributed\nto the good of the community?\n\nThe useless exertions of a section of moral philosophers to eliminate\nnot only Hedonism but also Eud\u00e6monism from moral action are a veritable\nlabour of Sisyphus. Hardly have these two with difficulty been expelled\nby the door than they return by the window or the chimney. It is a mere\nconjuring trick to remove them from this world to the next, as do the\ntheologians, or to substitute universal well-being for the feeling of\nhappiness. All the same, the desire to purge moral action of the least\nadmixture of hope of profit or pleasure is comprehensible. Common\nexperience, which is equally forced upon the profound thinker and upon\nthe plain man in the street least inclined to cudgel his brain, teaches\nus that Morality consists, with very few exceptions, in acting against\nour own immediate interest, in denying ourselves some coveted pleasure,\nin renouncing some attainable profit, in undertaking some disagreeable\nexertion because Reason bids us do so. From this practical experience\nthe man in the street gets the impression that duty is a bitter\nnecessity and that decency is attended by many and varied\ninconveniences. The theorist, the philosopher, derives a principle from\nhis empirical facts; he observes that the moral man often acts against\nhis own immediate interests, and expresses this in the pretentious\naxiom: \"Morality from the very beginning excludes all thought of\nprofit.\"\n\nAnd yet the philosophers are guilty of the same superficiality as the\nman in the street. They do not go far enough into the matter to perceive\nthat the morality of pleasure, of interest, and of duty, Hedonism,\nUtilitarianism and the Categorical Imperative, all lead in very slightly\ndifferent ways to the same goal--Eud\u00e6monism. The fulfilment of duty\naffords spiritual satisfaction, a pre-eminently pleasurable emotion\nwhich increases in direct proportion to the effort which its fulfilment\ndemands. Interest also implies pleasure, for every interest ultimately\ncomes to this, that it is an attempt to secure a pleasure. This aim lies\nat the bottom of all interests; it is the fundamental interest from\nwhich all seemingly different interests are derived; it is the universal\ngoal to which all human effort tends, whether it be a question of making\nmoney to satisfy ambition, of winning love and friendship, of material,\nspiritual, personal or social values. Interest is self-assertion and the\nintensifying of the zest for life. But these are always accompanied by\npleasurable emotions; thus interest is forthwith identified with\npleasurable emotion, even though one has to work hard, even though at\nthe moment it entails drudgery and discomfort. Hedonism makes no secret\nof its nature and its tendency. It openly admits what the Categorical\nImperative denies and what Utilitarianism veils with vague phrases: that\nthe aim and object of moral action is Pleasure and nothing else.\n\nIn our short survey of the immense field of literature dealing with\nmoral philosophy we have learnt that, although the most various and\ndivergent views are expressed as to the essence and source of Morality,\nnevertheless there is but one opinion, be it clearly or vaguely stated,\nbe it the result of knowledge or surmise, as to the mechanism by means\nof which moral concepts determine action, and as to the conscious or\nunconscious aim of moral action: Moral concepts do their work by means\nof inhibition, and the aim of moral action is a feeling of happiness.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE IMMANENCE OF THE CONCEPT OF MORALITY\n\n\nIt is natural for man's thoughts to be concentrated on himself until he\nhas learnt to rise from the deep and narrow well of his egoism to a\nhigher and wider view of life and, free from the taint of self-love, to\nform an idea of his place in the world and his relationship to it. Not\ntill the development of his intellect is far advanced does any doubt\nassail him as to the truth of his conviction that all his personal\naffairs, the least as well as the most weighty, are of the greatest\nimportance to the universe, that every ache or pain he feels must wake\nan echo in the heavens, that the Earth shudders in anticipation when he\nis about to stumble and sprain his ankle, and that the stars in their\ncourses mysteriously, though intelligibly to the discerning, foretell\nthe hour of his birth and of his death. An Indian legend pours cruel\nscorn upon this childlike megalomania: A fox had fallen into a stream\nand was drowning. \"The world is coming to an end!\" gasped the animal in\nits agony. A peasant standing on the brink replied coldly, \"Oh, no, I\nsee only a little fox drowning.\"\n\nMany moral philosophers, those of the Kantian school without exception,\nlabour under the delusion of this same, egocentric view. In their eyes\nthe phenomenon of Morality is a cosmic one. Morality is the law of\nhuman conduct, therefore it is the law of world processes, of the\nuniverse. Indeed, it is the law of the universe before it becomes that\nof human conduct. It would exist even if there were no men, no humanity,\nno human conduct at all. The solemn innocents who weightily give\nutterance to this doctrine are unaware how ridiculous they are. They do\nnot hesitate to subject Sirius to the yoke of the Ten Commandments. They\nare convinced that the Milky Way practises virtue and shuns, or ought to\nshun, vice, just as we inconsiderable human beings do. The precept,\n\"Thou shalt not steal,\" applies with binding force to gravity, and the\nwarning, \"Thou shalt not kill,\" to electricity, though the latter\nruthlessly disregards it, as the results of being struck by lightning\nand accidents with high voltage installations frequently prove. If they\ndo not threaten Nature with police and prison it is only because in\ntheir eyes Morality is independent of all sanctions, is superior to\nrewards and punishments, depends upon itself alone, constitutes its own\naim, is by its very nature a compelling force, and therefore has no need\nof adventitious compulsion.\n\nSuch profound nonsense cannot lay claim to serious treatment. It is a\ncounterpart to the belief that events in the history of mankind, like\nwar and pestilence, are foretold by heavenly signs such as fiery comets.\nThe stars revolve, the clockwork of the universe continues undisturbed,\nas though the earth were still uninhabited, as it was when it was a\nglowing fluid globe or, earlier still, a nebular mass; and this\nalthough man's self-esteem be hurt by such a lack of consideration. If\nwe care to call the (so far as we know) unalterable laws, according to\nwhich the forces of Nature act and the mechanism of the world works, the\nMorality of the Universe, that may pass. Only we must in that case\nclearly realize that we are speaking metaphorically, that we are making\nuse of a poetic simile, that we are anthropomorphically attributing\nhuman traits to the universe. Morality is a phenomenon restricted to\nmankind, or, to be strictly accurate, a phenomenon which occurs only\namong living beings; for the beginnings of Morality may be traced in\ncreatures of a lower order than man, and it develops simultaneously with\nthe consciousness and the mentality of living beings. Morality is a\nfunction of life, dependent upon it, begotten and developed by it, to\nmeet life's needs and serve its interests. The existence of Morality\napart from life is as unthinkable as that of hunger, ambition, or\ngratitude.\n\nMorality is a collection of laws and prohibitions which Reason opposes\nto organic instincts, by means of which the former forces the latter\ninto actions from which they would like to refrain, or prevents them\nfrom carrying out that which they yearn to do. The existence of\nMorality, therefore, presupposes in the first place that of an\nintelligence sufficiently developed to form a clear idea of something\nthat is still in the future, namely, an image of the consequences\nresulting from an action.\n\nGuided by this inner contemplation of the image of the consequences of\nan action, Reason decides to carry out or prevent the action. This\ngives us the lowest plane upon which Morality can occur as the cause of\naction and of abstention from action. It implies, above all things,\nforesight, and can therefore only exist in a consciousness which is\nsufficiently developed to grasp the idea of the future and form a\npicture of it. This consciousness must be capable of extracting the\nelements of a conception from memory according to the laws of the\nassociation of ideas, and be able to group them logically in a new\norder. In other words, as long as the mind cannot visualize the past and\nfrom it build up a picture of the future, Morality can find no place in\nit.\n\nThis statement requires no limitation, but it demands a short\nexplanation. It is quite true that Morality is foresight, but it is only\namong the elect that the latter is developed to such a pitch that it is\npossible to form images of the consequences of action and abstention\nsufficiently clear and definite to exercise a restraining or encouraging\ninfluence.\n\nThe average man can act morally without first working out a clear\npicture of the future. It is enough that he has been trained to the\nhabit of respecting current precepts, and of accepting the views\nobtaining in his circle as to what is good or bad, what is admissible or\ninadmissible. This morality, of course, is merely a matter of drill or\ntraining; it is unthinking automatism; it is inferior, and not to be\ncompared with the living, creative morality of higher natures, which, as\na sovereign law-giver, comes to an independent decision in every case\nand, like the guardian angel of childlike faith, guides man on his path\nthrough life, indicates the right course at the cross-roads, and warns\nhim of pitfalls and stumbling-blocks. But for everyday use mechanical\nmorality may suffice. In the uneventful existence of the average man,\nwhich passes in a stereotyped way, this mechanical morality is an\nacceptable guide and counsellor, but it remains an outside influence\nforeign to his inner consciousness; he is glad to deceive and outwit it,\nas a slave does his master's bailiff if he can do so without running the\nrisk of a thrashing; but if his destiny unexpectedly rises above its\naccustomed dead level, then this dogmatic morality, which he has never\nreally assimilated, leaves him in the lurch, and mournfully, in piteous\ntones, he utters the well-known cry, \"It is easy to do one's duty; it is\ndifficult to know where one's duty lies.\"\n\nReason, then, which is capable of foreseeing the results of actions,\nteaches a man what he must do and from what he must abstain, where he\nmay follow his instinct and where he must resist it, according as it\nconsiders the presumptive results of yielding to impulse good or bad.\nBut whence does Reason obtain the standard it applies to the actions of\nmen and their results? How does it acquire the fundamental concepts Good\nand Bad, and what is their significance? Generally speaking, the answer\nwill be as follows: Moral values are appraised by a standard supplied by\na general consensus of opinion; Reason acknowledges as good that which\nmeets with the approval of the community, that which the latter desires\nand therefore praises; the community, for its part, echoes the\npronouncements of influential personages, i.e. of the most respected,\nmost powerful, and most aristocratic; Reason condemns as bad that which\nthe community disapproves, and which it therefore censures and rejects.\nThis definition does not solve the problem of good and bad, it only\nshifts it.\n\nLater we shall have to show upon what grounds the community\ndiscriminates between acceptable and reprehensible facts, calling the\nformer good and the latter bad. For the present it is enough to observe\nthat Reason derives the laws, which it constantly impresses on man, from\nthe opinion of the community.\n\nIt can happen that Reason rejects the opinion of the community and forms\na conclusion opposed to it. This revolt of individual morality against\nconventional morality is the great tragedy of man. It can only occur in\nthe soul of a hero, for mediocre and insipid people always bow to the\nopinion of the majority. There is clearly imminent danger of making a\nmistake. Not seldom, however, the individual is right in his opposition\nto the community, and then the latter is fired by his example to examine\nits traditional dogmas and to correct or reject them. This is not the\nonly, but it is the most common means by which Morality is developed and\nchanged. Its progress demands martyrs. Strong personalities must be\nsacrificed to force a revision of moral values. Socrates has to swallow\nthe draft of hemlock so that unfettered thought may acquire the right to\ndoubt the legend of the gods. Jesus has to incur the dangerous anger of\nthe Pharisees so that the adulteress may be treated with indulgence and\nhuman sympathy instead of being punished according to rigorous law. But\nthe opposition of a self-willed, subjective Morality to the accepted\nmoral law is always exceptional; the general rule is submission to the\nmoral law. This is indeed a necessary preliminary to revolt against the\nmoral law of the community, for it is only by means of a vigorous social\neducation that man develops such a nicely balanced and keen sense of\nGood and Bad, that he cannot prevail upon himself to carry out generally\napproved actions which his own intelligence does not recognize as moral.\nHe whose moral sense has not been intensified by strict discipline will\nnever be assailed by doubt, as long as he follows in the footsteps of\nthe multitude.\n\nHence, as a rule, Reason exercises its control of the actions of man in\nconformity with the laws prescribed by the community. Before Morality\ndevelops into the practice of Good and the rejection of Bad it takes the\nform of consideration for the world at large, since it is the latter\nwhich has created the concepts of Good and Bad as well as the standard\nby which they are judged, and in order to avoid conflict with the\ncommunity, and to maintain uninterrupted agreement with it, the\nindividual exerts himself to persist in doing good and to refrain from\ndoing evil.\n\nThe establishment of these facts gives deep offence to the mystics among\nmoral philosophers. \"What a debasement and belittling of Morality! What!\nIt is supposed to be nothing more than a sort of obsequiousness towards\nthe multitude? Its laws are observed for the sake of pleasing others? It\nis a comedy played to win applause and a call before the curtain? That\nis a libel and a calumny. The truly moral man looks neither to the right\nnor to the left. He does not condescend to ask, 'What will the world say\nto this?' There is but one judge in whose eyes he wishes to be\njustified: his conscience.\"\n\nQuite right. But what is conscience found to be if we penetrate the fog\nof mystic words with which it has come to be surrounded? Conscience is\nthe permanent representative of the community in the consciousness of\nthe individual, just as public opinion may be termed the conscience of\nevery member of society made manifest. Metaphorically, it wields the\npowers pertaining to society; it praises and blames, it condemns and\nexalts, it punishes and rewards, as society could do; and it actually\npronounces judgment in the name of society, even though it does not\npreface such judgment with this formula which is tacitly implied and\nmust always be mentally added. Conscience is the invisible link which\nunites the individual with a social group, just as speech, custom,\ntradition, and political institutions are the visible links. But the\nsocial origin and representative nature of conscience set limits to its\npower. Conscience is a respected authority with wide powers only in the\nconsciousness of those individuals who have a highly developed social\nsense. I purposely do not say those in whom the instinct to follow the\ncrowd preponderates, because this mode of expression might imply blame\nand condemnation which I do not intend to convey.\n\nFor social instinct comes natural to an individual born, educated and\nworking in a community, who shares its feelings, views and interests,\nnay, even its prejudices and mistakes; and if he lacks it, it is a sign\nof a morbid deviation from the normal. Only the decadent man is\nuncannily lonely in spirit, alien, indifferent or definitely hostile to\nhis human surroundings; he is, according to the violence and\npolarization of his instincts, the passionate anarchist or the born\ncriminal; the public opinion of his circle is unintelligible to him and\nmakes no impression on him; it has no significance for him; he attaches\nno importance to its approbation, and its anger leaves him cold; he\nwould take no notice of it, were it not that he knows its power to\ndestroy him, and fears its police, its prisons, and its scaffolds. Such\na man, organically predisposed to crime, most urgently needs a\nconscience. It would arrest him on the downward path to which his evil\ninstincts lead. It would warn him to resist the wicked impulses of his\nselfishness. But he, of all people, has no conscience. He can have none.\nHe is anti-social, he is at war with society, diplomatic relations\nbetween him and it have been broken off, and it has no representative in\nhis consciousness. A lively and active feeling of joint responsibility\nwith the community is a necessary predisposition on the part of the\nindividual before conscience can have any power. Where the former is\nlacking the latter is mute and paralysed.\n\nThe essence of Morality, as we have found, is the subjection of\ninstinct and direct organic impulses to the discipline of Reason. The\nlatter exercises a censorship in pursuance of a law which it derives not\nfrom within, but from without, from the ordinances of the community\nwhich instructs Reason as to what it should permit, what it should\nforbid, and what it should demand. Conscience ensures respect for its\ncommands, and may be called the executive power or police of Reason,\nacting as the authorized representative of Morality. It is the garrison\nwhich the community maintains in the individual's consciousness, which\nit arms and supplies with authority and instructions; the power of\nconscience lies in the strength of the community at its back, and is\nwithout influence only upon those who refuse admission to the troops of\nthe community and yield to none but actual physical force. All this\nproves irrefutably that Morality is a phenomenon arising from the social\nlife of man, and its power is a function of society.\n\nIf under the conditions in which humanity lives nowadays one could\nimagine a man totally detached from his species, leading a solitary\nlife, Morality would be absolutely meaningless to him. The idea is one\nhe could never conceive. It would have no significance. Good and bad\nwould always retain their original meaning as labels for sensual\nqualities, for pleasant or unpleasant sensations of taste, smell, etc.;\nthey would never be spiritualized or apply to the quality of actions. He\nwould be unable to attach any meaning to the words duty and right. The\nterms virtue, vice, conscience, repentance would convey nothing to him.\nMorality can only originate when the individual lives united with\nfellow beings in a social community. It is a consequence of this union.\nIt is the one condition on which alone this union can be permanent.\n\nThe solitary individual must, however, not be confused with the lonely\none. Robinson Crusoe, shipwrecked on a desert island and forced to stay\nthere without companionship, is not primitive man. He is a son of\ncivilization who has fallen upon evil days. In his enforced solitariness\nhe maintains the habits of thought of his original surroundings. He\npreserves the concepts of Morality even though he has no occasion to\nobey its dictates. He can, if not actually yet potentially, be a paragon\nof virtue or a sink of iniquity; he can have a very delicate or a very\ndull conscience. He continues to be a man of social instincts cut off\nfrom society, and goes on thinking and feeling in a social manner. By\nprimitive man I mean man as he was before society originated. For,\ncontrary to the sociological school which denies the individual and\nboldly refuses to allow him any existence, declaring society to be older\nand earlier than the individual, I think I have conclusively shown\n(\"_Der Sinn der Geschichte_\" [The Meaning of History]) that man is not\nby nature a gregarious animal, that he lived alone, being self-sufficing\nas long as the climatic conditions, under which he first made his\nappearance on earth, enabled him to exist by his own unaided efforts and\ncapabilities, and that he banded himself together with others in gangs,\ntroops and hordes--the earliest forms of subsequent society--when, after\nthe first ice age following his appearance, the struggle for existence\ngrew ever harder, ever more laborious, transcending the powers of the\nindividual so that he could only overcome Nature, now grown hostile to\nhim, by uniting with others of his kind.\n\nThis primitive man of the golden geological period before the Ice Age\nknew no Morality, and as far as human intelligence can tell he would\nnever have known of it had there been a continuance of the paradisaic\nconditions obtaining at the time of his birth, and had the climate not\ndeteriorated. The occurrence of murderous frosts, the necessity of\nseeking protection from them in natural caves or artificially\nconstructed shelters, and of kindling and maintaining fires, the\ndiminution or disappearance of vegetable food, and the need to replace\nit by the booty of the chase or fishing--all these forced him to unite\nhis efforts with those of other men who shared his wretched lot on\nearth. But in order to maintain this community with others he had to\nlearn a new science, one he had hitherto not known because he had had no\nneed of it: consideration for his fellows. He might no longer think of\nhimself alone, consider his own inclinations in all eventualities, give\nway to all his moods or yield to every whim; he had unceasingly to bear\nhis neighbour in mind and take care not to annoy him, not to make an\nenemy of him, not to become hateful to him. Forbearance towards his\nneighbour was the necessary condition of their life in common, just as\ntheir life in common was the necessary condition of self-preservation.\nThe penalty for selfish indulgence was stern persecution, punishment,\nperhaps death; in any case, expulsion from the community. Man,\ntherefore, stood before the choice of self-control or destruction, and\nthis dilemma taught him Morality.\n\nSuch, we must imagine, were the beginnings of Morality. It was not\nprearranged or purposely sought; it grew naturally from the\ncompanionship of men and developed simultaneously with society. If the\nstruggle for existence made life in communities a necessity, the first\ncoercive law of the community was to enjoin upon its members a mode of\nconduct which alone rendered the existence of the community possible,\nand the fundamental rule of this conduct was mutual consideration.\nWithout this two egoisms cannot exist side by side and develop. They\neither destroy or shun one another. This phenomenon may also be observed\namong the higher animals. Elephants, living in herds, expel quarrelsome\nindividuals and force them to wander alone far from the rest. The\nnatives of Ceylon and India fear these \"bachelor elephants\" as being\nspecially savage and malicious. They think that they grow like this\nbecause of their loneliness. That is probably a false conclusion. It is\nmuch more likely that these animals have been driven from their herd\nbecause they were savage and malicious, because their characters were\nopposed to discipline. Here we come upon the first faint foreshadowing\nof the phenomenon of Morality in an animal community.\n\nNow that we have introduced the idea of the growth and development of\nMorality, it becomes obvious that it must have begun with mere\nindications, and that from rude, dim, undeveloped beginnings it\ngradually grows more perfect, more refined, more nicely differentiated.\nAt first man avoids only the most brutal injuries to his neighbour, such\nas hurting him, doing him bodily harm, threatening to kill him, openly\nrobbing him. In proportion as he becomes more spiritually sensitive, as\nhe learns to feel the insult and humiliation of injuries other than\nthose inflicted with a fist or club, he is led to refrain from giving\nhis fellow-men similar offence, which though it deals no gaping wounds,\nyet hurts his spiritual sensibilities. A series of values is developed,\ngrowing ever longer, ever more complicated, with more and more\ngradations, until, going far beyond the simple, artless commandments,\n\"Thou shalt not kill,\" \"Thou shalt not steal,\" \"Thou shalt not covet thy\nneighbour's wife nor his goods,\" it reaches the pitch of agonized\nself-reproach, because of the slightest and most secret impulses to\ndislike, injustice, covetousness, dissimulation, etc.\n\nMorality must be regarded as a support and a weapon in the struggle for\nexistence in so far as, given present climatic conditions on earth and\nthe civilization arising therefrom, man can only exist in societies, and\nsociety cannot exist without Morality. The chain of thought runs as\nfollows: without morality no society, without society no individual\nexistence; consequently, Morality is the essential condition for the\nexistence of the individual as well as for that of the community.\nHowever, we must always bear in mind the reservation, \"given the\npresent climatic conditions on earth.\" Had the earth continued to be the\nparadise it must have been at the birth of our species (since otherwise\nthe latter could simply not have originated), the necessity would never\nhave arisen for the individual to band himself together with others of\nhis kind, no society would ever have developed, and there would have\nbeen no Morality. Serious as the subject is, one cannot but smile at the\nthought of the comic figure the learned, professorial Neo-Kantians would\ncut with their dogma of the absolute and cosmic nature of Morality, if\nthey propounded it among men whose wants Nature's bounty was able to\nsatisfy as easily as the frog is satisfied in his puddle or the crow on\nhis tree top. They would find no trace of absolute Morality among\nmankind, and would be reduced to seeking it among the stars.\n\nThe very nature of Morality, in that it is an aid to man in the struggle\nfor existence, makes it easy to understand the origin and nature of the\nconcepts Good and Bad. There are propensities and actions which\nfacilitate life in a community which, indeed, alone make it possible:\nlove of one's neighbour, helpfulness, liberality, consideration for the\nfeelings of others, and amiability. There are others which make such a\nlife difficult or absolutely impossible: uncompromising selfishness,\nviolence, cruelty, rapacity, instinctive hostility to one's neighbour.\nMen recognized that the former were beneficial to them, the latter\nharmful. The former aroused their liking, the latter their disapproval,\ndislike and animosity. The quality of feeling which accompanied the\nperceptions of actions of the former kind was akin to that with which\nthey responded to beneficial, profitable, useful and welcome sense\nimpressions. The quality of feeling, which actions of the second\ncategory gave rise to, was akin to that due to harmful and repellent\nsense impressions. Following the law of analogy, they placed on an equal\nfooting actions which were felt to be pleasing and pleasant sensations\nof taste and smell; similarly with disagreeable actions and unpleasant\nsense impressions; and finally they called the former good and the\nlatter bad, using terms originally applicable only to the realm of the\nsenses.\n\nNot everything that is pleasant to the senses is beneficial. There are\npoisons which are pleasing to taste, but none the less noxious for that,\nsuch as (to give only one example) alcoholic drinks and impressions of a\ncertain order, like voluptuousness, which man greedily pursues, even\nthough they ruin his health. But these are exceptions. As a rule, not\nonly man, but all living creatures, derive pleasant sensations from\nbeneficial things; and it is probable that that category of sensations,\nwhich we are conscious of as being pleasant, is nothing but the state of\ncoenesthesis, when the organism functions particularly energetically\nunder the influence of the absorption of food or of a special stimulus\nof the senses, when it feels its life processes carried on particularly\nvigorously, freely and harmoniously; just as we feel that state of\ncoenesthesis to be unpleasant, which occurs when the organism\nfunctions badly, slackly, and in a manner calculated to endanger the\ncontinuance of life. With the reservation that has been indicated we\ncan say in general that Good is equivalent to beneficial and pleasant,\nBad to harmful and unpleasant. This is true of the transferred and\nspiritualized as well as of the immediate and material meaning of these\nexpressions of value. The significance of the words Good and Bad, the\npoint of departure, development and change of conception they indicate,\nsuffice to justify the Utilitarians and the Hedonists or Eud\u00e6monists\namong the moral philosophers, and to confute the contentions of their\ncritics, who deny all connexion between Morality and a practical\npurpose, profit or pleasure, and declare these to be unworthy\nhumiliations of its majesty.\n\nThey wriggle, with the agility of a contortionist on the music-hall\nstage, to get over the obvious and palpable aim of moral conduct. They\ndisplay all the cunning of dishonest sophistry in their arguments to\nprove that the element of subjective satisfaction which moral action\nyields is non-existent, and that, therefore, the Hedonists and\nEud\u00e6monists are wrong. They stir up an opaque cloud of words, phrases\nand formul\u00e6 to hide the fact, which nevertheless emerges clearly, that\nhe who acts morally expects to derive pleasurable emotions from his\naction, or at least tries thereby to avoid probable painful emotions,\nand that moral conduct, just as it is designed to give the individual\nsubjective satisfaction which is a kind of pleasure, is also meant to be\na benefit, or at any rate a supposed benefit, to the community.\n\nMorality must never try for a reward and never expect one. It must be\nabsolutely disinterested. It has no business to pursue any aim outside\nitself. Thus say the mystics of moral philosophy, juggling with words;\nand they think they are doing especial honour to Morality and raising it\nto a particularly proud eminence. But Morality has no need of this\nartificial and false grandeur to maintain its lofty place among the\nphenomena of life, and it is derogatory neither to its authority nor to\nits influence to be recognized as a beneficial force conducive to\nhappiness.\n\nThe opponents of Utilitarianism and Eud\u00e6monism in Ethics, if they speak\nin good faith, may be excused on the grounds that their analysis of the\nphenomenon of Morality is shallow. For them Morality is something\nabsolute, which exists by itself as an eternal and unalterable law of\nthe Universe, but which is revealed in the individual and therefore must\nbe conceived individually as a quality which has become human, as a\nhuman value. If anyone persists in looking upon Morality as an\nabsolutely individual matter, without any connexion with anything\noutside the individual, if anyone obstinately shuts his eyes to the fact\nthat Morality has not been developed by the individual out of his own\nimmediate needs and in consideration of himself alone, but that it is,\non the contrary, a creation of society and has no sense or significance\nexcept as a social phenomenon, then indeed he can with some show of\njustification deny Utilitarianism and Hedonism. For truly, looked at\nfrom the point of view of the individual, moral conduct appears neither\npleasant nor immediately beneficial. On the contrary, it is, as a rule,\ndirectly opposed to his own apparent interest, and it is achieved with\ndifficulty by sacrifice and renunciation, which are never pleasant and\noften very painful.\n\nOnce in a drawing-room, during a game of definitions, I heard a\nlight-hearted young lady define Duty in the following terms: \"Duty is\nthat which we do unwillingly.\" A stern professor contradicted her at\nonce with the solemnity he thought due to his position, and assured her\nreprovingly: \"It is my duty to give lectures, and I do this duty gladly.\nIf you were right, madam, expressions such as 'zealous in one's duty'\nand 'willing performance of duty' would have no meaning and could never\nhave been coined.\" That seems convincing, but yet it is wrong.\nExpressions such as \"zealous in one's duty\" and \"willing performance of\nduty\" were not coined until society had developed its system of Morality\nand had educated its members to strive for its approval by conducting\nthemselves in accordance with this system, to look on its approval as a\nflattering distinction and to fear its disapproval as a disgrace. Such\nphrases are Pharisaical, calculated to exercise a suggestive influence\nprofitable to society. They are the sugar to sweeten the pill; but the\nyoung lady was honest and the professor conventional; the pill is\nbitter. Thinkers recognized and admitted this thousands of years ago.\nAntiphon, the sophist, says: \"The law, the outcome of an agreement,\ncoerces nature, the result of growth, and goes against the interest of\nthe individual.\" The same idea is expressed by the tragic poet in the\nlines: \"The gods have placed sweat before virtue.\" This was said in the\nvery same words by Lao Tse, the disciple of Meng Tse, the pupil of\nConfucius and the reformer of his doctrine.\n\nThe law, not only the law of the state which Antiphon has principally in\nview, but also the moral law, \"goes against the interest of the\nindividual\"; not in reality, but apparently, at the first superficial\nglance. Moral conduct is the reverse of natural conduct; it takes place\nin opposition to instinct by deflecting the original impulse; it is a\nsubjugation of inclination, a victory over the real nature of the man.\nVirtue has to exert its utmost strength in bitter struggles, fought out\nwithin the individual, before it can reveal itself actively in deeds.\nThat is a natural consequence of the manner in which Morality\noriginated.\n\nThe point is that it was not created directly for the individual, but\nfor the community, and for the former only in so far as he is a part of\nthe community, and from its stability and well-being derives a benefit\nwhich he may, or may not, be conscious of; which he may, or may not, be\nable to appreciate; which he accepts as something natural and\nself-understood without further thought; for which he does not consider\nany return service to be due; but which is nevertheless of real\nmagnitude, profiting the individual, facilitating his existence, or even\nalone making it possible; and for which, as for every other gift, he\nmust make sacrifices. For within society there can be no gifts. It\npossesses nothing but what it has acquired from its members, and the\nlatter must pay full value for everything it provides, unasked or\notherwise.\n\nAs the Moral law originated to meet the needs of the community, and was\ngradually formulated in definite precepts, it is comprehensible that the\ncommunity never paused to inquire what subjective effect its law would\nhave on the feelings of the individual. If you impose a law upon someone\nyou hardly ever consider how great will be the emotions of pleasure or\ndispleasure which its enforcement will entail. The order is, \"Obey,\nwhether you like it or not; that which deeper insight and more\nfar-seeing wisdom prescribe is for your good.\" Thus the individual is\nforced to work laboriously for his own good, which in his purblindness\nhe does not even recognize. It would be comprehensible if the\nindividual, who does not see farther than his own nose and does not look\nbeyond the present moment, formed the opinion that Morality is not\nperceptibly beneficial to him and gives him no pleasure, and that,\ntherefore, the Utilitarians and the Hedonists talk nonsense. But the\nmoral philosopher, who observes the individual in relationship to the\ncommunity and surveys human actions, the way they are connected, and the\nway they interact upon one another, has no right to pursue the same line\nof thought as the individual, and deny that Morality aims at utility and\npleasure, even though the individual, when he acts morally, does not\nperceive any personal advantage, nor feel any pleasure except the\nself-satisfaction which he has been trained to feel, since in the eyes\nof others he is so good and honest. That Morality aims at utility, and\nis at the same time a source of pleasure and happiness, may seem dark\nand doubtful while we consider the individual, but it becomes clear as\nday and indisputable when we regard the community.\n\nAmong creatures of a lower order than man, indeed among all animals that\nlive together in flocks or herds, we find the first beginnings of that\nmode of conduct which in man we call moral, and which is not intended to\nbe of direct benefit to the individual, or to add to his momentary\npleasure, but which subordinates or sacrifices these personal\nsatisfactions to the good of the community.\n\nChamois, when they are grazing, set one of their number on guard upon a\nrocky eminence with a distant view, and this individual is responsible\nfor the safety of the herd. While the others feed in peace and comfort,\nthis guardian chamois forgoes the food which is doubtless just as\nattractive to it as to the others, and tirelessly keeps a sharp look out\nover its whole field of vision, warning its companions at the first\napproach of danger by uttering a shrill cry.\n\nWhen the great herds of buffaloes still inhabited the North American\nprairies, they had at the head and on the flanks of the herd the\nstrongest bulls, while the centre was occupied by the cows with their\ncalves and the young animals. Before civilization came to trouble them,\nthe grizzly bear was the only enemy that threatened them, and with him\nthey were able to deal; one of them would meet the attacking bear in\nsingle combat, but did not always emerge from it unhurt. Often enough at\nthe end of the fight both the bull and the bear would be terribly\ninjured or even dead; yet by sacrificing his life the bull saved the\nrest of the herd.\n\nThe thrilling adventure of the Abyssinian baboon is well known; first\ntold by Alfred Brehm in his \"_Tierleben_\" (animal life), it was\nafterwards quoted by Darwin and many other writers. On a hunting\nexpedition Brehm surprised a party of monkeys in a clearing. They fled\nat once and had found shelter in the wood before the dogs could reach\nthem. Only one young one had got separated from the rest and was left\nbehind alone. It had scrambled up on to a solitary rock standing in the\nplain, round which the dogs were barking furiously, and in its terror\nthe creature uttered piercing cries for help. A little male monkey,\nhearing it, detached himself from the group, turned back from the safety\nof the forest, made quietly for the rock and fetched away the trembling\nyoung baboon from among the pack, silent now and shrinking in amazement;\nand then stroking and caressing the little creature he carried it safely\nin his arms to its family in the wood, unmolested by the stupefied dogs\nand spared by the hunter, lost in admiration of this self-sacrificing\ncourage.\n\nIn these three instances we see how the joint responsibility among\ngregarious animals develops in them an ever increasing sense of duty,\nwhich teaches the chamois to forgo its food during the hours it is on\nguard, rouses in the buffalo a savage lust for battle, and makes the\nbaboon perform a premeditated deed of epic heroism. When men act as\nthese animals did, we ascribe this to Morality. This is nothing but\njoint responsibility in action, the joint responsibility which the\nspecies is forced by the conditions of life to adopt, if it is to\nsurvive.\n\nAmong the moral philosophers the mystics are prevented, by the haze\nwhich obscures all their thought, from seeing that Morality originates\nfrom this joint responsibility. Or rather, if they do see it, they think\nthis origin too low. They demand a more exalted genealogy for the\nphenomenon of Morality. According to them the Moral law comes straight\nfrom God. The concepts Good and Evil are revealed. Commands and\nprohibitions are imposed upon the soul by that omnipotence which\nspiritualizes the universe and of which the soul is an immortal part.\n\nIf these phrases were anything but moonshine and tinkling cymbals they\ncertainly would make any other explanation of this astonishing fact\nsuperfluous; the fact, namely, that man does what is repugnant to him,\nand refrains from doing what would give him pleasure, that he is content\nwith himself when he has voluntarily curbed his impulses and made\nsacrifices, and that he feels the pricks of conscience if he chances to\nexperience the pleasure of appeasement because he has satisfied his\ndesires. \"Man obeys divine commands.\" That suffices and obviates the\nnecessity of seeking for explanations of this phenomenon, which shall\nsatisfy Reason.\n\nIt is a mere mirage, the reflection of an earthly state of affairs in\nthe heavens, to assume that the universe is governed by an authority\ndevoid of responsibility, which imposes on its subjects, that is to say\nmen, laws and instructions, discipline and order.\n\nIt is a form of anthropomorphism, the most widespread and stubborn of\nerrors in thought among those men who try to understand the\nunintelligible, and are content with the most unfounded explanation\nwhich their na\u00efve imagination freely invents for them. This same\nanthropomorphism, not even at a loss to solve the problem of the origin\nand essence of the universe, replies unhesitatingly that God by an act\nof volition created it out of nothing to prove to Himself His own\nomnipotence and omniscience; in like manner it has no scruple in\nascribing the phenomenon of Morality to a creative act of God's, and\nmakes Ethics, which properly speaking form the chief part of psychology,\nanthropology and sociology, a subdivision of theology, that is, of\nanthropomorphic mythology.\n\nCritical Reason, which realizes that deceptive fictions are not true\nthought, but dreams--not the result of ripe intellectual effort, but of\nthe childish play of the imagination, seeks the roots of Morality not in\nthe air or in the ether, but in the solid earth; not in some\nindemonstrable, transcendental sphere, but in an obvious need of human\nnature. The biological necessities of the species, which can only\nsurvive by dint of living in communities, sufficiently explain the\norigin of the feeling of joint responsibility, of consideration for\none's neighbour, of the concepts Good and Evil and of conscience; and we\nhave no use for the dogmas of revealed Morality derived from some\nfabulous, supernatural source, or for the Kantian categorical\nimperative.\n\nMorality, understood as a form of joint responsibility, determines the\ninner and outer relations of the individual to the community; that is to\nsay, to as much of it as he comes in immediate contact with, to wit, his\nneighbour. Morality provides him with the notions of Duty and Right, of\nthe consideration he owes his neighbour and of that which he may demand\nfrom his neighbour. It is customary to look upon Rights and Duties as\nopposites. This is mere indolence of thought. Right and Duty are\nsupplementary, forming together one concept. They are in reality one and\nthe same thing regarded from different points of view. My Duty is the\nsubjective form of my neighbour's Right; my Right the subjective form of\nother people's Duty. That which is Duty, when I have to do it out of\nconsideration for others, becomes my Right, when others have to do it\nout of consideration for me.\n\nRespect for the personality of others, which is the feeling from which\nthe concept of Right and Duty emanates, seems to be a late and noble\nproduct of Morality and a particularly praiseworthy victory of prescient\nintelligence over selfishness. This factor of our consciousness which\ndetermines our will and which gradually becomes an instinct, is really\nonly a special application of the law of least resistance which governs\nall organic life. We have no selfless, ideal respect for the personality\nof another; but, made wise by experience and observation, we assume that\nthat other has the power to resist and to retaliate if a wrong is done\nto him or he is injured; hence we avoid, to the best of our ability,\nactions to which he is likely to object, so as not to come into conflict\nwith him, because to overcome his opposition would require effort and\nexpose us to danger. Respect for the personality of another and for his\nrights may be expressed by a mechanical formula which runs as follows:\nthis respect varies directly as the real or supposed might of the other\nperson, and inversely as our own real or supposed might.\n\nThe society of which he is a member, and which makes his existence\npossible, prescribes to the individual the laws governing his moral\nconduct. That which a community at any given time approves and demands,\nrejects or forbids, constitutes the precept whereby its members regulate\ntheir conduct, and offers ample security for their conscience.\n\nThe concepts Good and Bad originate simultaneously with society; they\nare the form in which its actual conditions of existence are conveyed to\nthe consciousness of its members. The only immutable thing about them is\nthe fact of their continued existence. Without the coercive discipline\nof a rule conducive to the common weal and governing the mutual\nrelations between its members, no society could be imagined to exist,\nunless its members were all similar in nature, reacted in an identical\nfashion to all impressions and possessed the same feelings and\nsensations, the same inclinations and the same impulses of volition. In\nthat case no difference could ever arise between one individual and\nanother, or between an individual and the community, which would have to\nbe smoothed over by the moral law emanating from the community and\ncontrolling the individual, or be suppressed by the community's order.\nEvery individual could be left to the guidance of his own instincts, for\nhe would know himself always to be in agreement with the community; no\nconsideration for others need hamper or modify his actions; he could\nbehave just as if he were alone in the world. But as individuals differ\nfrom one another, feel, think and want different things, collisions in\nwhich they hurt, cripple or even kill one another are the inevitable\nconsequence of their opposing movements; and the interference of the\nmoral law is absolutely necessary to polarize these movements and guide\nthem into parallel courses, so that they do not run counter to one\nanother.\n\nBut Good and Bad derive not only their existence but their measure and\ntheir significance from the views of the community. They are therefore\nnot absolute but variable; they are not an immutable standard amid the\never-changing conditions of humanity, a rule by which the value of the\nactions and aims of mortals are indisputably determined, but are subject\nto the laws of evolution in society and therefore in a constant state of\nflux. At different times and in different places they present the most\nvaried aspects. What is virtue here and now may have been vice formerly\nand at another spot, and _vice versa_. In the royal family of ancient\nEgypt marriage between brothers and sisters was the prescribed custom.\nWe call this incest and it fills us with horror. To the sons of Egypt it\nseemed meritorious and constituted a claim to special veneration. The\nBabylonians and Canaanites burnt their first-born in Moloch's fiery\nfurnace, and this sacrifice was accounted a highly praiseworthy act of\npiety and of the fear of God. The Spartans taught their sons, their\nfuture warriors, the art of stealing without being caught; and he who\ndid this most cleverly achieved the most flattering recognition. The\nCherusci butchered the Roman prisoners taken from the legions of Varus\nas a sacrifice to their tribal gods, and a noble-minded and brave man\nlike Arminius considered this absolutely honourable and knightly. The\nAztecs, who had undeniably attained an advanced degree of civilization,\nat high festivals used with obsidian knives to cut open the breasts of\nhuman sacrifices on the altars of their gods, and tear the heart out of\ntheir living bodies. That was an action finding favour in the sight of\nthe gods, and the people watched it with awe and those mystic emotions\nwhich religious rites are intended to arouse.\n\nMoral law in Europe, during the Middle Ages and almost up to modern\ntimes, permitted, and even ordained, the punishment by horrible torture\nand death of those whose religious convictions differed from the\nteaching of the established church; and with its consent supposed\nwitches were sent to the stake. In feudal times the most terrible and\nrevolting of crimes was felony--that is, a breach of faith on the part\nof the vassal against his overlord--and no torture was too cruel as a\npunishment. Nobles, who had so delicate a sense of honour that for a wry\nlook or the accidental touch of an elbow they would draw their swords,\nenunciated the principle: \"the king's blood does not defile,\" and vied\nwith each other in forcing their daughters upon the king as concubines.\nUntil Wilberforce roused the English conscience at the end of the\neighteenth century, and Sch\u00f6lcher did the same in France in the middle\nof the nineteenth, slavery was considered a state of affairs which a\nmoral community could tolerate. The North American descendants of those\nPuritans whom no persecution and no martyrdom could prevent from leading\na life consonant with the dictates of their conscience, did not scruple\nto exercise proprietary rights over human beings who, in the case of\noctoroons and even of quadroons, did not even differ from them in\ncolour, supposing that difference of colour could be considered an\nexcuse. The code, which began with the \"Declaration of Rights,\"\ncontained heavy penalties for those who helped a slave to escape. Men,\nwhose uprightness no one could doubt, did not hesitate to set\nbloodhounds on the track of an escaped nigger, and four years of a\nbloody civil war were needed before refractory slave-owners were forced\nto acknowledge the immorality of forced labour.\n\nThese examples have been taken from the customs of civilized nations.\nAmongst races that have not attained the high degree of development to\nwhich the white man has risen, we meet with much more revolting\ndeviations from the moral law obtaining among white men. Tribes are\nknown in which the commandment, \"Honour thy father and thy mother,\" is\ninterpreted so, that the children kill and eat their parents as soon as\nthe latter have attained a considerable age. The North American Indians,\nwho had a well developed sense of honour, were capable of chivalrous\nfeelings and kept their word with absolute loyalty, used to torture\nhelpless prisoners and scalp their defeated enemies, even the women.\nAmong the Dyaks, who are under Dutch rule and are familiar with the laws\nand customs of Christian Europe, a marriageable youth must first cut off\na human being's head before he is allowed to wed. He need not overcome\nhis victim in honourable combat; he may creep upon him surreptitiously,\nand even fall upon him in his sleep and murder him in cowardly fashion\nwithout danger to himself.\n\nAll these are instances which we unhesitatingly condemn. To our idea\nthey are crimes and misdeeds which among us would make their\nperpetrators liable either to contempt and expulsion from decent society\nor to the extremest penalties of the law; yet at their time and in their\nplace they were considered meritorious and virtuous, and were approved\nby public opinion and the conscience of their authors. But we can go\nfarther and subject our own moral law to a similar independent\nconsideration. We shall find that to us also deeds appear permissible,\nvirtuous and even splendid, which do not differ essentially from the\nthefts of the Spartans or the head-hunting of the Dyaks. A company\npromoter who sells on the Stock Exchange shares that he must know to be\nworthless, can with Spartan cunning rob thousands of trustful victims of\nthe fruits of their labour and economy, and reduce them to beggary; and\nnot only does he go unpunished, but if by his knavery he becomes a\nmillionaire and uses his wealth cleverly, he can attain the highest\npolitical and social honours and distinctions. We may admit that\nfinancial roguery of this sort can now no longer be classed among\nstrictly moral actions, that public opinion is on the verge of placing\nit in the category of vice and crime, and that legislators are beginning\nto make attempts to inflict severe and humiliating penalties on its\nperpetrators.\n\nBut another series of deeds is still generally considered so undoubtedly\nvirtuous and laudable, that it evokes the highest homage from the best\nintellects of the age, poets, musicians, scientists, teachers, sculptors\nand painters, and the leaders of the people--the deeds of war. The most\nhorrible butchery of men, the theft of property and liberty,\nill-treatment, destruction are not only permissible but obligatory and\nlaudable, if they occur in war, and if their authors can point to the\nfact that they are acting in the service of their country at the order\nof a legitimate authority. Neither the soldiers nor their leaders are\nbound to inquire whether the authority, whether their mother country is\nwaging war for a purpose that moral law can approve. \"Right or wrong, my\ncountry.\" In the eyes of her sons the country is always in the right,\neven if it be objectively in the wrong, and by its orders every soldier\nmurders, robs, burns and ravages, plays the executioner to harmless,\nunarmed, innocent strangers, compels prisoners to forced labour, steals\nletters that fall into his hands and prevents families who are cruelly\nseparated from communicating with one another; and his conscience does\nnot reproach him in the least, nor is he conscious of being a criminal\ndeserving of all the penalties of the law. Every single one of these\nactions, if perpetrated by an individual on his own account and for his\nown purposes, would result in the death penalty, and it would be richly\ndeserved, too. But in war, carried out collectively at the bidding of a\ngovernment, they become deeds of heroism, filling the doer with pride,\nmoving the community to tears of enthusiasm, and they are held up to\nyouth as shining examples to be imitated. It is more than likely that\nfuture times will judge the esteem in which these deeds are held not\notherwise than we do the value placed by other forms of society on human\nsacrifices, the slaughter of parents and head-hunting.\n\nIt is hard to determine the exact part which conscience plays in the\nchanges undergone by the concepts Good and Evil. As conscience is the\nvoice of the community in the consciousness of the individual, it\napproves on principle what seems right and praiseworthy to the\ncommunity. Just as little as conscience prevented a Babylonian mother\nfrom sacrificing her child to Moloch, does it in these days stop the\naverage citizen from doing a soldier's work of killing and destroying in\ntime of war. If an individual knows himself to be in complete agreement\nwith the general opinion, then he lives at peace with his conscience. No\nimpulse to change the customs, to set up a new Morality, to condemn\nlong-established usages, is to be expected from such an one.\n\nThe mechanism whereby changes are wrought in views on Good and Evil is\nquite different. Everywhere and at all times there are exceptional\npersons whose abilities render them specially fit to feel and think\nindependently. To their idea the community has no determining but only\nan advisory voice. They reserve to themselves the right of decision in\nevery case. In their consciousness there persists a clear recognition of\nthe fact that the essence of Morality lies in consideration for others,\nand when the current acceptation of the moral law among the majority\nallows them, nay, commands them to disregard this consideration, they\nexperience a feeling of discomfort which dull, unthinking imitation of\nthe general example does not soothe. They meditate upon the deviation\nfrom the fundamental rule of considering one's neighbour, they test its\njustification, and they condemn it, if its difference with the general\nmoral law cannot be adjusted. If the essence of Morality is\nconsideration for one's neighbour, its purpose is the well-being of the\ncommunity; its essence must be adapted to this purpose, that is to say,\nconsideration for one's neighbour must be subordinated to the general\nwelfare. The thief, the robber and the murderer have no claim upon\nconsideration, and even a man with the most delicate sense of Morality\nwill agree that coercion of the criminal is desirable. Tolstoy's\nwarning: \"Do not oppose the evildoer,\" is not Morality, but an\nexaggerated parody of it, which renders it nugatory. Thus the most moral\nperson will not raise any objection to a war waged in defence of hearth\nand home when their safety is threatened by a ruthless attack.\n\nBut, if a mode of action which, though it be generally practised and\napproved, injures the individual and causes him to suffer, cannot be\njustified on the grounds of an obvious benefit to the community, then a\nsmall, sometimes an almost infinitesimal minority of independent\nthinkers will rise against the custom; they are not afraid of coming\ninto violent conflict with generally accepted views; they defend the\nfundamental principle of Morality, namely, consideration for the\nindividual, against the exception, namely, oppression of the individual\nfor the ostensible good of the community; they brand as immoral what is\ngenerally accounted moral; they announce that the current acceptation of\nthe goodness or badness of a certain order of actions must cease.\n\nThe intervention of such reformers always gives offence, and arouses\nanger which at times rises to murderous fury. But this wrathful\nindignation is just what makes a break in the automatic fashion in which\nthe majority of average men act according to traditional custom; the\nattention of more and more minds is arrested, critically they examine\nthe accepted moral law, they are penetrated first by the suspicion and\nfinally by the clear conviction that it is contrary to the essence of\nMorality, and they swell the ranks of the innovators who inveigh against\nthe tradition. The struggle lasts long and is carried on pitilessly. The\npreachers of the new Morality seem corrupt and criminal to the\nsupporters of the old. They are persecuted and slandered and not seldom\nhave to suffer martyrdom, but they always emerge victorious if their\ndoctrine is in agreement with the logic of the fundamental principles of\nMoral law. That is the history of the abolition of human sacrifices, of\nthe vendetta, of slavery, of legal torture, of religious coercion.\n\nWhoever looks about him with open eyes will note that civilized men are\nat the moment adopting new ideas with regard to the operation of state\nomnipotence, to war, to the right of the economically strong to exploit\nothers, to the rights of women, to sexual morality, to the penal system.\nThe advocates of a new Morality must still put up with the most\nhumiliating abuse. He who wishes to defend the individual from coercion\nby the state is an anarchist and deserves to be hanged or broken on the\nwheel. He who maintains that war is immoral belongs to the rabble of\nvagabonds who own no nationality, for whom no contempt is too deep and\nno punishment too severe. He who refuses a duel is a dishonoured coward,\nand thereby cuts himself off from decent society. He who recognizes\nwoman's right to motherhood is a dastardly purveyor of opportunities for\nprostitution. He who attacks the present relation between Capital and\nLabour as a hypocritical continuation of slavery is an ignorant agitator\nor an enemy of society. He who would like to see the idea of punishment\nexcluded from the law, as being retrograde and unscientific, and who\nwishes only the point of view of the defence of society to be recognized\nas valid, talks sentimental nonsense, disarms justice and places the\ncommunity at large at the mercy of criminals.\n\nBut the issue of the struggle is not in doubt. The present systems,\nwhich present exceptions to the moral law of consideration for one's\nneighbour, must go. Although they are considered moral to-day, are, in\nfact, Morality itself, to-morrow they will be felt to be immoral and be\nabhorred by all men of moral feelings. Thus the concepts Good and Bad\ngradually change their meaning; views on what is moral and what immoral\nare constantly in a state of flux; and the only permanent thing is\nrecognition of the fact that man's actions must be withdrawn from the\ncontrol of subjective choice and whim, and must be subject to a law set\nup by the community; the justification of this law lies in its being\nnecessary to the existence of society. Every revision of Moral values\noriginates in some vexation, and ends by refining and deepening moral\nsentiment. In this chapter only the scheme of development of moral views\nand of their changes has been indicated. The question of moral progress\nwill be dealt with fully later on.\n\nTo sum up the arguments of this section, Morality is not transcendental\nbut immanent; it is a social phenomenon and restricted to the sphere of\nliving beings. Its beginnings may be traced in animal societies, it is\ndeveloped among mankind. The preliminary condition necessary for this\ndevelopment is the ability to visualize future happenings, since moral\nconduct is determined by estimating its effects and results, that is, by\nconceiving something in the future. Morality has a positive, concrete\naim. It makes the existence of society possible, and this, given the\ncircumstances obtaining on our planet, is the necessary condition for\nthe preservation of each individual, and it originated from the instinct\nof self-preservation in the species. Its essence lies in consideration\nfor one's neighbour, because without this the communal life of\nindividuals, that is, a society, would be impossible.\n\nIf individuals had been able to live alone, Morality could never have\ncome into existence. The concepts Good and Bad characterize those\nactions which society feels to be beneficial or harmful to itself. As\nmoral conduct implies consideration for one's neighbour, it is often, if\nnot always, in conflict with selfishness, that is, with the immediate\nand instinctive impulses, and is, in the first place, accompanied by\ndisagreeable sensations. The pleasurable emotion of satisfaction arises\nlater through habit and reflection; it accompanies the thought of the\nmerit and praiseworthiness of the victory over self. Conscience is the\nvoice of the community in the individual's consciousness. The idea of\nDuty is the subjective conception of the Rights of our neighbour; the\nidea of Rights is the subjective conception of our neighbour's Duty to\nus. Morality is not absolute, but relative, and is subject to continual\nchanges. To maintain that Morality is cosmic, eternal, immutable, that\nit aims neither at profit nor pleasure, but constitutes its own aim, is\npure anthropomorphic superstition.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE BIOLOGICAL ASPECT OF MORALITY\n\n\nMorality is a restraint which the community imposes on each of its\nmembers. It demands from the individual the sacrifice of his transitory\nand momentary comfort in favour of his general welfare which is\ndependent on that of the community. It prohibits the pleasure of\ngratifying his desires in order that by this unpleasant renunciation his\nlasting well-being may be ensured. Subjectively experienced and viewed,\ntherefore, Morality always implies the limitation of free will, the\ncurbing of desire, opposition to inclinations and appetites, and the\ndiminution or suppression of free, or let us rather say of unbridled,\naction. Before Morality can profit the community, it disturbs and\nincommodes the individual, it rouses in him disagreeable sensations\nwhich may reach such a pitch as to be intense pain. It is only after\ndeep reflection, of which not everyone is capable, that the individual\nrealizes that Morality is an essential condition of the life of society,\nand that the preservation of society is an essential condition of his\nown life; before he investigates, before he even meditates on Morality,\nthe individual feels it directly to be unpleasant, laborious,\nstern--nay, hostile.\n\nThe control which Morality exercises over the actions, and indeed in\nmany cases over the most secret thoughts of the individual, appears at\nthe first glance to be somewhat paradoxical. It is by no means obvious\nwhy the individual should always take sides against himself and,\nadopting a defensive and disapproving attitude, hold his instinctive\ntendencies in check. Moral conduct would be intelligible if the\ncommunity were always ready with means of coercion and could constrain\nthe individual by brute force to place its interest before his own\npleasure. But the individual does not wait for police intervention on\nthe part of the community. He frowns upon himself with the awful\nseverity of the law. He threatens himself with a cudgel. He divides\nhimself into two beings, one of which wants to follow its instincts,\nwhile the other curbs them vigorously; one is a rearing, often a\nrefractory, horse, the other a rider with bridle, whip and spur.\n\nThis reduplication of the ego, one-half of which establishes control\nover the other, one-half of which tries to remain true to itself, while\nthe other divests itself of its identity and denies itself--this is the\ninner process, the outward manifestation of which is moral conduct. This\ndemands investigation and explanation. We must show how the organism\ncould develop from within itself the power to paralyse, or completely\nrepress, its own elemental activities, and how Morality was able to\nbecome an integral part in the general scheme of life processes.\n\nThe mechanism whereby the mind, appraising, foreseeing and judging,\nchecks the first movement of impulse, is inhibition or repression.\nWithout inhibition moral conduct would not be possible. The mind would\nhave no method of indicating the path and prescribing rules to the\norganism's instinct. It would have no means of making its insight\nprevail over the desires of the senses. It would have no weapon with\nwhich to force its being to actions opposed to its organic inclinations.\nWithout inhibition the individual would never give precedence to the\ndemands of the community and lay himself open to disagreeable emotions\nin order to please the community. Inhibition was the necessary organic\npreliminary to the phenomenon of Morality. It had to be pre-existent in\nthe individual, so that Morality could make itself at home in his\nintellectual life, so that it could acquire creative, ruling and\npractical power among the elect, and become an unconscious and easy\nhabit among the average. Morality took possession of a pre-existent\norganic aptitude and made it serve its own purposes. But organic\naptitudes are not alike in all individuals. In some cases they are more\nor less perfect; in others they may be lacking altogether. Indeed only\nindividuals with highly developed powers of inhibition are capable of\nthat heroic Morality which liberates them from the weakness of the flesh\nand makes them independent of the demands of the body; those in whom\nthis power of inhibition is scantily developed evade the influence of\nMorality entirely, and it has no authority over them.\n\nThat which is called character is at bottom the name we give to the\npower of inhibition. Where it is weak we speak of lack of character,\nwhereas by strength of character we mean that the power of inhibition is\ngreat. The will makes use of inhibition. With its help the will guides\nthe living machine in a certain direction and urges it to perform given\ntasks. At the first glance it may not seem obvious that positive actions\ncan come of repression, which is something negative. But if we analyse\npsychologically the actions demanded and promoted by the will, and trace\nthem back to their organic origins, we shall find that, as a rule, the\nfirst elements consist in the prevention of impulsive movements, and\nthat the impetus to positive effort is given by the will, which converts\nthese movements into contrary ones. A few instances may make this\npsychic process clearer. Winkelried, at Sempach, cleaves a path through\nthe cuirassiers while they bury their lances in his breast; he becomes\ncapable of this great deed of self-sacrifice in that, by a mighty effort\nof will power, he suppresses the strongest of all instincts, that of\nself-preservation, and forces all his energies, which are naturally\ndirected towards flight from danger, to challenge danger and yield\ncompletely to it. The lover who overcomes his passion and renounces its\nobject, because his idol is the bride of his best friend, begins with\nthe determined inhibition of the impulse which urges him towards the\nwoman, and attains renunciation by the suppression of his desire; this\nrenunciation finds expression in positive actions, in the rupture of\nrelations which bring him happiness, the avoidance of meetings which\nwould prevent the wound in his heart from healing, and so on. The brave\nrescuer who plunges into the waves to save a drowning man, or enters a\nburning house to save a fellow creature threatened by the flames, must\nfirst overcome his natural shrinking fear of the water and the fire; and\nnot till after the suppression of strong impulses to avoid the uncanny\nadventure, does he succeed in making his muscles obey the impulse to\nsave life.\n\nInhibition, therefore, is the organic foundation on which Morality\nbuilds, not only that Morality which consists in abstention from certain\nactions, but that which is manifested in active virtue. But inhibition\nis a faculty which the organism has developed for its own ends, the\nbetter and more easily to preserve its own life, and to render its power\nof achievement greater. Morality makes use of this faculty, which it\nfinds ready to hand, for the ends of the community, and very often\nagainst the immediate interests of the individual for whose advantage it\nis nevertheless intended. Now the individual would not put up with this\ninexpedient use, one is tempted to say this clever misuse, of one of its\norganic capacities, if this yielding up of the mechanism of inhibition\nto Morality were not beneficial to life and therefore came within the\nsphere of the biological purpose of inhibition. By being grafted on a\npre-existent organic faculty Morality becomes such itself; it forms a\nlink in the chain of biological processes within the individual\norganism; it ceases to be purely a product of society forced upon the\nindividual to his molestation and in spite of his annoyance; it acquires\nthe character of a differentiation of inhibition in order to help the\nindividual, or even to make it at all possible for him to adapt himself\nto life in a society.\n\nThat under the present conditions obtaining on our planet the human\nindividual can only live in society demands no proof. And as he can only\nlive in society if he submits to its rules of good and bad, Morality,\nwhich urges him to this submission, aids and even preserves his life. We\nshall now show that inhibition, of which Morality is a differentiation\nmaking it easier for the individual to adapt himself to the conditions\nof social life, is of the greatest value to the individual from the\nbiological point of view.\n\nThe lowest forms of life it is possible for us to observe show nothing\nwhich can be interpreted as inhibition. All external influences to which\nthey are not indifferent invariably produce the same effects. They\nrespond to every stimulus with a reflex action which reveals nothing\nthat we should be justified in describing as an activity of the will.\nThe reaction follows with strictly automatic regularity upon the\nstimulus, and nothing intervenes between the two which would permit the\nconclusion that in the simple organism there is any faculty that could\ndelay, modify or change the reaction to the external stimulus.\n\nJust as iron filings always respond to the attraction of a magnet in the\nsame way, just as certain combinations of mercury at the impact of a\nblow flare up with an explosion, just as ice when warmed melts and\nbecomes water, and water when cooled to a definite point freezes into\nice, so do the simplest living things seek out certain rays in the\nspectrum, certain temperatures, certain chemical conditions and avoid\nothers. Not only unicellular organisms do this, but also comparatively\nhighly developed animals, such as the daphni\u00e6, for if light is sent\nthrough a prism into a vessel containing water, these little creatures\ncollect at the violet end of the spectrum; such as the wood-lice, which\nhate the light and creep into dark crevices; such as gnats, which are\nattracted by the sun and dance in their hundreds in its rays. Moreover,\nwe meet with a similar phenomenon in man. We, too, in winter and spring\nseek the sun and in summer the shade; in the cold season the warm stove\nattracts us; bad smells put us to flight, sweet scents of flowers allure\nus. The simplest automatic reflex actions are at the root of these\nattractions and repulsions, exactly the same as with the daphni\u00e6,\nwood-lice and gnats. Only we are able to control and suppress these\nreflex actions which the lower animals apparently cannot.\n\nAnthropomorphic modes of thought easily mislead us into thinking that\nthe processes we observe in lower animals are due to an exercise of will\npower. We draw near to the fire in winter because it is pleasant, but we\ncan quit it if duty calls us into the cold streets. One is apt to\nimagine that the simple organisms also experience pleasant and\nunpleasant feelings, that they try and avoid the latter, that the\ndaphnia seeks the violet rays because it likes them, that the wood-louse\nflees the light because it dislikes it; in fact, that these creatures\npossess a consciousness which becomes aware of and distinguishes between\npleasing and displeasing impressions, and that they possess a will which\nresponds to these impressions with suitable reactions. Very\ndistinguished scientists have been unable to resist the temptation to\nassume in the lower animals, even in unicellular organisms, the\nexistence of processes with which we are familiar in the human\nconsciousness. William Roux introduces us to a \"psychology of protista,\"\nand W. Kleinsorge goes so far as to maintain the existence of \"cellular\nethics,\" and to devote himself to research into its laws. The work of\nboth these biologists is as fascinating as the most beautiful\nfairy-tale, but it is probably the creation of a lively and fertile\nimagination, just as the fairy story is.\n\nMore prosaic and less imaginative scientists do not see evidences of\npsychology in the signs of life in the protista, or ethics in the\nmovements of a cell, but merely the effects of universal chemical and\nphysical laws which also control lifeless inorganic matter. To these\nlaws they trace the tropisms of simple organisms which tempt the\nimagination, prone as it is to anthropomorphism, into errors; such\ntropisms, that is to say, as their tendency to seek moderate warmth,\ncertain rays of light and weak alkaline solutions, or to avoid acids,\nheat and ultra-violet rays. The little organisms probably do not obey\nthese impulses for reasons of pleasure or pain any more than the iron\nfilings obey the attraction of a magnet for such reasons. They do not\nfly to it because it gives them pleasure; the little metal leaves of an\nelectroscope do not move apart because contact with each other\ndispleases them. All forms of tropism, chemicotropic, thermotropic,\nphototropic manifestations, active and passive tropisms clearly show\nthat minute organisms involuntarily and unresistingly respond to the\ninfluence of natural forces, just as if they were inanimate particles.\n\nMicroscopic investigations reveal many phenomena which one is tempted to\nconsider signs of life, but which cannot be such, as they occur in\nconnexion with inanimate matter. The Brownian movements are rhythmical\nmolecular changes of position, not due to any mechanical impulse\nemanating from the surroundings, nor to a current in the fluid in which\nthe object of investigation is immersed, but arising from the object\nitself, mostly very finely divided, tiny balls of mercury. A very small\ndrop of chloroform introduced into a fluid of different density behaves\nexactly like a unicellular organism. It sends out pseudopods, wriggles\nand draws them in again. The pseudopods seem to feel and examine\nparticles of matter with which they come in contact, and then either to\nwithdraw quickly from them or to surround and incorporate them in the\ndrop. This is deceptively similar to the behaviour of a living cell\nabsorbing food, though there can be no question of this in the case of\nthe drop of chloroform. In the latter it is merely a question of the\neffects of surface tension, that is, of the normal behaviour of matter\nin accordance with the laws governing the forces of nature, the\ninvestigation of which lies in the domain of chemistry and physics.\n\nImpartial thought comes to a conclusion about these phenomena different\nfrom that derived from anthropomorphic delusions. It does not try to\nsmuggle dim, dark life into the collections of mercury molecules\napparently obeying some inner impulse, or into the seeking or feeling\nabout of a pseudopod of chloroform. On the contrary, it understands life\nas the play of natural forces under the conditions supplied by a living\norganism, as the automatic working of a machine-like apparatus to which\nnatural forces supply the motive power. Similar manifestations in\ninanimate matter and in elementary organisms seem to justify the\nconclusion that the distinction between living and non-living matter is\narbitrary, that there are only forces, or perhaps one single force, that\nis to say, one movement, in the universe, whose activity is manifested\nin the most manifold forms, of which life is one. Modern Monism has come\nto this conclusion, but it is not alone in so doing. Long before Monism\nthere was a philosophy which conceived all cosmic energies to form a\nunity; and really it is only an obstinate quarrel about words, for the\nHylozoists regard the universe as something living and ascribe life to\nall matter and all atoms of which matter is made up, while the\nMaterialists regard life as a play of forces in matter. Fundamentally\nthe Hylozoists and Materialists hold the same views, only that the\nformer call force life and the latter call life force; just as the only\npoint of difference between them and the Pantheists is that these have\ngiven the majestic title of God to the universal life they assume--as\nSpinoza has it, \"_Omnia quamvis diversis gradibus animata sunt_.\"\n\nThe question, what is life? is the greatest that the human understanding\ncan ask of itself. For thousands of years man has cudgelled his brain\nover this, and is as far from finding an answer to-day as he was on the\nfirst day. The definition most often repeated runs thus: Life is the\nability possessed by certain bodies to react to stimuli, to absorb\nnourishment and to reproduce themselves. That is a statement of observed\nfacts, but it is no explanation. It informs us that we are familiar with\nbodies which behave in a way distinguishing them from other bodies; but\nwhy they conduct themselves differently from others, what the particular\nthing is which is present in certain combinations of matter and absent\nin others--that is an impenetrable secret.\n\nScience has tried by the most varied methods to solve the problem. It\nseemed a triumph of research that Woehler produced urea, that chemists\nlater on manufactured carbohydrates, that Fischer is on the high road to\nthe production of synthetic albumen. What is gained by these\ndiscoveries? We bring about the same combinations as the living cell\ndoes. That is, no doubt, an interesting achievement, but its value as an\naddition to our knowledge on this point is infinitesimal. For we\naccomplish the production of sugar, urea and amine in a manner very\ndifferent to that of the living cell, and he who copies the things\nturned out in a workshop has contributed nothing to our knowledge of the\nworkman who plies his trade in the workshop. The dividing line between\nlife and lifelessness was supposed to have been obliterated when\nelementary manifestations of life were proved to exist in inanimate\nmatter; the Brownian movements in the smallest particles; the growth of\ncrystals immersed in a solution of the same chemical composition as\nthemselves; crystallization itself which represents a kind of very\nsimple organization of matter, and at any rate proves the sway of a\nregulating and directive force; the tendency of certain elements to\ncombine, which has been called their affinity. But this name is only a\npoetical metaphor which no one will take literally. The growth of\ncrystals in their mother liquor is merely mechanical precipitation on\ntheir surface, an external addition of layers of the same material; but\nnot growth by the incorporation of such matter, that is, through the\nabsorption of nourishment.\n\nThese and similar results of observation do not suffice absolutely to\njustify the assumption, seductive though it be, that life is a\nfundamental attribute of matter, that it is present everywhere though\ngraduated in intensity, that therefore apparently inanimate matter\ndiffers not qualitatively, but only quantitatively from living beings,\nthat life stretches in an unbroken line from the block of metal or rock,\nin which it is completely obscured, to man, the most highly developed\norganism we know of; and that at a certain point in its range it reveals\nitself in a form which permits no distinction between organic and\ninorganic matter.\n\nThe origin of life is as completely unknown to us as its essence. For\nthousands of years the assumption was lightheartedly made that under\ncertain, somewhat vague circumstances, life originated of its own\naccord. Pasteur showed that a _generatio spontanea_ cannot be proved to\nexist, that every living thing comes from another living thing, a parent\norganism, and that the old philosophers were right in propounding\n\"_omne vivum ex ovo_\" as a law, although they only guessed it and had\nnot proved it experimentally. A very few critics, who are hard to\nconvince, still dare to assert in a small voice that Pasteur's work and\nall the facts established by microbiology do not prove conclusively that\nlife does not nevertheless originate from inorganic matter under\nconditions which we cannot nowadays reproduce in our laboratories. No\nanswer can be made to this objection. An experiment is only conclusive\nfor the conditions in which it is made, and not for others. All that we\ncan positively assert is that on earth the genesis of life without a\ndemonstrable parent organism has never been observed. To go farther, and\nto assert that a _generatio spontanea_ is absolutely impossible under\nany conditions, on earth or elsewhere, is arbitrary, just as it is to\nassert the contrary.\n\nThose who are supporters of the theory that life can be developed from\nnon-living matter for a long time thought they had conclusively proved\ntheir case; they argued as follows: At the present time life exists on\nour planet; according to the Kant-Laplace hypothesis our planet was\nformed from a cosmic nebula and passed through a state of fluid\nincandescence; in this state life is impossible; therefore life must\nhave originated spontaneously one day after the Earth had cooled down;\nconsequently either the Kant-Laplace hypothesis is wrong or the\nassertion that life can only be generated by life is erroneous; the two\nassumptions are incompatible. This conclusion no longer presents any\ninsuperable difficulties. It has been observed that spores which have\nbeen kept for months at the temperature of frozen hydrogen, that is,\nvery nearly at absolute zero, have retained their germinative power and\nhave developed when they were brought back to a favourable temperature.\nTherefore they would not be killed by the cold of interstellar space on\ntheir way from one heavenly body to another, and could become the seeds\nof life on another hitherto inanimate star. That large numbers of tiny\nparticles of matter exist in interstellar space and are precipitated on\nthe heavenly bodies is proved by the cosmic dust that arctic explorers\nhave collected from the surface of snow and ice. Therefore the Earth may\nwell have been in an incandescent state, and may yet have received from\ninterstellar space the germs of life which developed and multiplied when\nthe Earth's crust had cooled sufficiently to provide the conditions\nfavourable to their existence; and these germs may have been the\nancestors of all the life that exists on earth to-day after a period of\nevolution lasting hundreds of millions of years.\n\nThis would account for the origin of life upon the Earth, but not of\nlife in general. The germs, which travel as carriers of life from an\nolder heavenly body to a younger one, must have sprung from parents, and\nhowever far back we trace their genealogical tree we are always finally\nfaced by this dilemma: either life did, after all, originate at one time\nfrom something lifeless, and what has happened once must be able to\nhappen again, now and always; or life never originated at all, but has\nalways existed; it is eternal like matter, in forms whose variety we\ncannot even dimly grasp, its threads, having neither beginning nor end,\nwind through eternity. Of these two assumptions the latter is\nincomparably more in harmony with our present-day views on the universe.\nWe believe the matter of which the universe is built up to be\neverlasting. It costs no great effort to believe life to be eternal too.\nTrue, the idea of eternity is inconceivable to us; it is a dim\nconception which has given rise to a word, a tone picture which portrays\nsomething indefinite, but within the bounds of the inconceivable there\nis room for both semi-obscurities, the everlastingness of matter and the\neverlastingness of life.\n\nBut the most enigmatical point in the riddle of life is not life itself,\nwhich is a form of being, and is neither more nor less comprehensible\nthan the existence of an inanimate object, of a stone, of water, of the\nair; it is consciousness. Descartes proves his own existence to himself\nby the fact that he thinks. Life must be accompanied by consciousness in\norder to convince the living being that it exists. The formula: \"_cogito\nergo sum_\" has been admired for hundreds of years. It certainly is\nspecious. But how many questions it leaves unanswered! Has it the right\nto deny life to an entity that does not conceive itself? Must it not be\ncompleted by the proof that life without thought, that is, without\nconsciousness, does not exist, that consciousness is the necessary\ncomplement of life? And, above all, ought not Descartes to have given us\nan explanation of what thought and consciousness are?\n\nI will attempt to answer the questions left unanswered by Descartes. But\nI must premise one thing. Every definition of consciousness implies a\npostulate: life. Though at a pinch we can picture life without\nconsciousness, consciousness without life is absolutely inconceivable. I\ndo not undertake to explain what life is, any more than I attempted it\nabove. We must take it as something given. Consciousness, then, is the\nsubjective realization of something objective, the inward realization of\nsomething outside. If in a living being a picture of its surroundings is\ndeveloped, then it absorbs something which is not a necessary part of\nitself. Of course, this inner image must not be understood to imply an\nabsorption of matter. It is a process in the matter of which the living\nbeing is built up. But, all the same, the image of the outer world in\nthe inner being does signify a penetration of the latter by the former.\nThis image, which follows the changes of the outer world and repeats\nthem in the inner being, is consciousness. It may be shadowy and\nblurred, or clear and distinct; it may in rapid succession be formed and\npass away, and it can be preserved as a memory; it may reflect a greater\nor a lesser portion of the outer world; consciousness is accordingly\nduller or sharper; its contents are scant or plentiful, it retains the\nimages of a shorter or longer series of conditions in the surrounding\nworld. Between nutrition, which is recognized as an essential phenomenon\nof life, and consciousness a surprising parallelism subsists. Both\nconsist in an absorption of the outer world by the organism; nutrition\nis the assimilation of matter, consciousness that of stimuli. In the\nprocess of nutrition the organism digests small quantities of the\noutside world; in consciousness it digests the world as a whole.\n\nThis parallelism is no mere play of the intellect. If it is followed out\nit leads to significant ideas if not to actual knowledge. What\npenetrates from the outer world into the inner being of the organism is\nvibration, movement, force. Is the matter which is absorbed as\nnourishment ultimately anything different? Here we come up against the\nultimate problems of physics, the various hypotheses regarding the\nnature of force and matter, the theories that in addition to matter\nthere is an ether, or that the ether is a different, more subtle, form\nof matter, or that neither matter nor ether exist, but atoms out of\nwhich everything is built up, which themselves consist of electrons\nwhich are centres of force, motions without material consistency. All\nthese theories, of which the last cannot be grasped by the human\nunderstanding, we can leave severely alone. This is not the place to\ninvestigate them. But the attitude of the living organism towards the\nouter world from which it absorbs nourishment and impressions,\nconverting them into power to drive the life machine and transmuting\nthem into consciousness, lends peculiar support to the supposition that\nforce and matter are not only inseparable but identical, that in them we\nmust seek a principle, or perhaps regard them themselves as a principle,\nwhich must be of the same nature as consciousness, for otherwise it\ncould not be transmuted into the latter.\n\nThe senses are the means by which the outer world penetrates as an image\ninto the inner being. Before the senses are differentiated the living\norganism possesses a general sensitiveness; that is to say, that under\nthe influence of the outer world its cell protoplasm undergoes a process\nof regrouping, resulting in chemical and dynamic changes. The chemical\nresults of stimulus are anabolism and katabolism, a building up and\nbreaking down of the cell content; the dynamic results are movements\nwhich in the lowest forms of life are purely mechanical, but in the\nhigher forms adapt the organism to the external influence in so far as\nthey place it either so as to be affected by the latter as long and as\npowerfully as possible, or else so as to evade it. The living organism\ncan experience no stimulus and respond to it without absorbing and\ntransmuting it, converting it into a chemical process or a movement.\nThis inner process is a subjective realization of something objective, a\npenetration by the outer world, therefore an elementary consciousness.\nIn proportion as the general sensitiveness becomes differentiated into\nspecific ones, as the image of the outer world filters through the\ndifferent coloured glass panes of the various senses into the inner\nbeing of the organism, this image becomes multicoloured and varied.\n\nIt lies in the nature of this mechanism that the subjective image is not\nidentical with the objective original, but is modified and even\ndistorted by the panes through which it penetrates to the inner being of\nthe organism. What the subject perceives is never anything but a symbol\nof the object, never the object itself; but this symbol suffices to\nenable the consciousness to form an idea of the object, just as letters\nenable the reader to take in words and thoughts. We must conceive the\ndevelopment of consciousness to go hand in hand with that of the senses.\nThe more windows the organism can open to the outer world the more\neasily and the more clearly does its image penetrate. The number of\nobjects which the subject can take in is the measure of the perfection\nof its consciousness. The protista, lacking specific sense organs and\npossessing only the general sensitiveness of protoplasm, can form only\nto a very limited extent and with very little variety an inner\nrealization of the stimuli of the outer world. Its consciousness is\nnecessarily very restricted and exceedingly dim. Consciousness is\nenlarged and grows clearer as the organism develops and its general\nsensitiveness is differentiated into specific senses, until we reach the\nlevel of man whose consciousness embraces far more of the outer world\nthan does that of any other living creature; because, lacking new\nsenses, he has succeeded in amplifying and enlarging those he possesses,\nand has by artificial means made himself capable of perceiving stimuli\nto which he is not directly susceptible and which therefore would have\nremained unknown to him; to a certain extent he has translated them into\na form which his senses can perceive.\n\nI do not overlook any of the difficulties which my attempt to explain\nconsciousness leaves untouched. On all sides the most urgent and\ndisquieting questions arise. Above all, the fundamental question, the\nmost enigmatic of all: how is an external stimulus, that is a movement,\na vibration, converted into a sensation, a perception? Further: must we\nin the consciousness distinguish between the frame and its contents,\nthe conceptual mechanism and the concept? Or do the two coincide? Is\nthere no consciousness without a conceptual content? And is it the\nmovement entering into the organism, the inner realization of the outer\nworld which, transmuting itself in an incomprehensible manner into a\nconcept, creates consciousness, becomes consciousness? Is the\nconsciousness of the man standing upon the highest plane of\nintellectuality the greatest consciousness possible? Does there exist\nanywhere in the universe a more abundant, perhaps an infinitely more\nabundant consciousness than that of human beings on the Earth, and will\nthe latter ever rise to this height? It is obvious that a development is\nin progress. There was a time when the most comprehensive, the clearest\nconsciousness on earth was that of the trilobite or the cephalopod.\nEvolution has gone as far as man. Does it stop at that or will it\ncontinue?\n\nAccording to Herbert Spencer evolution is progress from the simple to\nthe complicated. Let us accept this definition. Have we the right to set\nup a scale of values and place the complicated above the simple? Is the\nlatter not the more perfect because it has more power of resistance,\ngreater durability, and can hold its own triumphantly against all\ndestructive influences? Is not evolution, then, a retrogression from the\nperfect, because simple, to the more complicated, and therefore more\nfragile, more easily upset and less capable of resistance to harm? Is it\nnot sheer egocentrism if we appraise the value of living beings\naccording to their greater or less resemblance to ourselves, and judge\nthem to be less or more worthy in proportion to their disparity with us?\nAre the fish which, living in the sea wherein we cannot exist, can\ninhabit the greater part of the globe, are wild duck which fly, swim and\nwalk, not more perfect than we, who have had to conquer the air and the\nwater by artificial means? Is not the mouse's hearing sharper than ours?\nThe eagle's sight keener? The dog's scent incomparably more delicate?\nHas not the carrier pigeon an infinitely better sense of locality than\nwe have? Are not many beasts physically stronger, more nimble and agile\nthan man? His only claim to superiority rests on the greater perfection\nof his consciousness. Why do not all living creatures participate\nequally in the evolution to which this superiority is due? Why does it\nnot take place in every organism and lead the unicellular living being\nin an unbroken ascent to the level of Goethe or Napoleon, or to a still\nmore lofty one, if such an one exist anywhere in the universe?\n\nIf one could believe in a Ruling Power and the plan of the universe as\nits work, would it not be terribly cruel and revoltingly unjust that\nthis power, instead of treating all living beings alike, should make a\nkind of selection of grace and lead some up to a higher level while it\ncondemned others to lasting lowliness, and that it should ordain that on\nthe road from the unicellular organism to man, countless connecting\nlinks should be left hopelessly behind and not be permitted to continue\ntheir ascent? Or must we admit the humiliating conclusion that a greater\namount of consciousness does not necessarily imply higher rank and\ngreater dignity, and that a protista, with its almost unimaginably pale\nand narrow consciousness, can have just as great a feeling of well-being\nas man with his immeasurably superior intellectual life; that therefore\nthe protista suffers no wrong if it never gets beyond its present stage\nof evolution; and finally that the amount of the outer world which man\ncan absorb in his consciousness is as far removed from the entirety of\nthe universe as the contents of the protista's consciousness are from\nthat of the human mind? No answer can be found to these questions.\nWhatever purports to be an answer, be it introduced as theology or as\nphilosophy, is visionary or nonsensical. We must resign ourselves to\nmoving in a very small circle moderately illuminated by Reason, while\nall around, if we seek to penetrate beyond it, we perceive gruesome\ndarkness.\n\nEvolution, that is a progress from the comparatively simple to the more\ncomplicated, is a striking fact--I say comparatively simple advisedly,\nfor even in the unicellular organism the processes are far removed from\nthe absolutely simple. We do not know from what part of the organism the\nimpulse to evolution comes. Here we meet with the same mystery which\nshrouds growth, its duration, its measure and its bounds. As the\nconception is lacking, a word has been found, viz., entelechy, which\nDriesch introduced into biology, the co-operation of all parts of the\norganism for the purpose not only of preserving it but also of making it\nmore efficient in the matter of self-preservation and more perfect. A\ncritical investigation of entelechy would involve the broaching of the\nwhole question of life. It does not come within the scope of this work.\nI shall therefore content myself with a very few remarks. Entelechy\nworks as if it were reasonable and acted with a set purpose. If you\nthink it out exhaustively it forces you to the assumption that life is\nan intellectual principle, even in the protoplasm of the cell, long\nbefore there is any perceptible trace of consciousness; that this\nintellectual principle makes use of matter, builds it up, organizes it,\nmoulds it into material and tools for construction, and sets up a\nmechanism in which and by which it develops itself. As far as we can see\nthe purpose of life is life itself. Entelechy directs all the work of\nthe organism in such a way that it becomes more and more capable of\nself-preservation, that its efficiency becomes greater, that it can\nabsorb more of the outer world and can react more vigorously upon the\nouter world. In other words, life strives continuously to make its\nembodiments more permanent, securer, richer and more manifold.\n\nHowever, if we do not know how the impulse to evolution originates, we\ncan at least form an idea of the mechanism of evolution. Fundamentally\nlife consists in the absorption of cosmic movements or vibrations, and\ntheir transformation into another form of movement. The living cell is a\nmachine which makes use of cosmic energy for physio-chemical work.\nMetabolism, warmth, electric manifestations, movement, and as their\nconcomitant a graduated consciousness, are the result of this work which\nis carried out by cosmic energy in the cell power machine.\n\nTo start with, this machine works in the very simplest fashion. It uses\nup its motive power as fast as it acquires it. Energy flows in and\nimmediately flows out again in another form. The organism is like a pipe\nor a vessel without a bottom, so that its contents cannot be stored. The\nlower organisms which obey tropisms are such bottomless vessels. They\nare continually and inevitably subjected to the same attractions and\nrepulsions and have no means to withstand them. But at a certain stage\nof evolution--how? why? Driesch replies: Entelechy!--a new part is\ndeveloped in the machine, something like the cam on a cogwheel which\nforces it to come to rest. Or, to keep to the earlier simile, the\nbottomless vessel acquires a bottom with a tap that can be opened and\nclosed. With this arrangement the organism is able to store the energy\nit has received and then to make use of it according to its needs, to do\nmuch more or much less work with it, to achieve much greater or much\nsmaller effects, than it would be capable of doing with the amount of\nenergy it receives from outside in a given unit of time. It is obvious\nhow much more efficient the organism becomes if it can store up energy\nand can adapt to its needs the amount used up. This new part of the\nmachine is Inhibition.\n\nIt appears early, and takes part in the general development of the\norganism; it is indeed the strongest factor in this development. Before\nInhibition intervenes the organism has only one response to stimulus:\nreflex action. This is of the character of an electric discharge. It may\nbe stronger or weaker, but is uniform in kind. It varies quantitatively\nbut not qualitatively. In the lower organisms it is a contraction of the\ncell protoplasm, a movement. In the higher organisms, in which the life\nprocesses are carried out on the principle of the division of labour and\nwhich have developed various organs for this purpose, each organ\nperforms the action of its specific function; the muscle contracts, the\nnerve sends out a nervous impulse, the gland forms a secretion, and so\non. All reflex actions have this in common, that they serve no other\npurpose than that of relaxing tension in the organism. They do not imply\nany co-ordinated effort to promote the comfort and the welfare of the\nliving being. They cannot fulfil any complicated task. They exhaust the\norganism which, after a series of reflex actions, becomes insensitive to\nstimuli and must rest for a time before it can react again.\n\nBeginning from that stage of evolution where inhibition intervenes,\nreflex action loses the character of an automatic response to impulse\nand becomes disciplined. Inhibition tries to suppress reflex action. Its\nsuccess is more or less complete according to the sensitiveness and life\nenergy of the tissue receiving the stimulus and the degree to which the\nmechanism of inhibition is developed. The organism retains its tension,\nremains charged with energy, and is able to carry out work for definite\npurposes. In place of anarchistic reflex action which occurs regardless\nof the needs of the organism, we find economy of energy, co-ordination\nof effort, movement directed to a profitable end. It is only inhibition\nwhich can raise the organism from its state of passivity, its helpless\ndependence upon tropism, to a being in which a will is beginning to\ndawn and which by its will becomes self-determinative. Inhibition is a\nfunction of the will; it is the will's tool. Even Plato dimly perceived\nthis, and he expresses it in the metaphorical language peculiar to\nhimself, when, in the \"Republic,\" he compares a human being to a\ncreature made up of three animals: a hundred-headed sea-serpent which\nmust at one and the same time be fed and tamed, a blind lion, and a man\nwho tames the serpent by means of the lion. These three animals are\ndesire ([Greek: epithumia]), courage ([Greek: thumos]), and mind\n([Greek: nous]). We say in biological language, reflex action,\ninhibition, and will or volitional reason.\n\nAll the concepts that are referred to here: purpose, co-ordination,\ninhibition and will, are every one of them dependent upon one\nfundamental concept, consciousness. Without it they are unthinkable.\nSchopenhauer's unconscious will is a word without meaning. I have\npostulated consciousness as the inseparable concomitant of life. It is\nprobably the essence of life. In its lowest stage it is too dim, its\ncontents too meagre and blurred, properly to distinguish the organism in\nwhich it dwells from the world around. In a higher state of development,\nwhen it gradually grows clearer and begins to be filled with more\nsharply defined ideas, it learns to keep its organism and the\nsurrounding world apart, and tries to make the attitude of the former to\nthe latter one of self-defence, self-preservation and self-development.\nFrom this stage of development onward, concepts begin to connect and\ngroup themselves in such a way that consciousness contains not only an\nimage of the immediate present, but also memories of the past and a\nforecast of the future. The ability to prolong the present into the\nfuture, to understand the actual as a cause of the effects that follow\nand to foresee these effects, that is the starting point of logic and\nreason. It is the necessary antecedent of the will, which would have no\nmeaning if it were not the effort to realize a conception of actions and\ntheir consequences, previously worked out by consciousness. Will is a\nfunction of consciousness which, in pursuance of the well-known\nbiological law, creates an instrument for its purposes, and this\ninstrument is inhibition. The higher an organism stands on the ladder of\nevolution the more energetically and surely does inhibition work, the\nnicer and the more masterly does its intervention in the original reflex\nactions grow.\n\nThanks to the piling up of reserves of energy, which is a result of\ninhibition, the organism can carry out its work of differentiation, can\ndevelop organs and organic systems, and obtain the power to perform more\ncomplicated functions; these render it ever more independent of the\nouter world and enable it to affect the outer world to an increasing\nextent. Inhibition plays an important part in differentiation. Its\napparatus becomes organized. The nerve centres from which the inhibition\nproceeds form a ladder of which each rung is subordinate to the next.\nThe peripheral nerves are controlled by the nerve centres in the spinal\ncord, these again by the centres in the medulla oblongata, and then in\nsuccession by the cerebellum and the cerebrum, and finally by the\ncorticle. On the principle of least resistance, on which all life is\nbased, the highest centres of inhibition unburden themselves by granting\nthe lower ones a certain measure of independence. The reaction to the\nmost ordinary and frequent stimuli is controlled and organized in its\ncharacter and strength by the apparatus of inhibition, so that it ensues\nautomatically, and no active inhibition, that is, no conscious effort of\nthe will, is required. The simplest of these automatic reflex movements\ntake place below the level of consciousness.\n\nThose organized complexes of movement, however, which we call instincts,\nare carefully watched by the consciousness and subjected to severe check\nif they appear to run counter to the supposed interest of the organism.\nThe hereditary complexes of movement constituting instinct are highly\norganized and oppose inhibition, only yielding to it when it is stronger\nthan they are. This can be observed in animals which are capable of\ntaming and training. All the artificial actions and omissions that man\nteaches them are triumphs of inhibition over automatism. Among human\nbeings it is only the elect who can vigorously suppress their instincts\nby inhibition directed by Reason. The being that has attained the summit\nof organic evolution on earth is man, in whom only the lower, vegetative\nlife processes are liable to the influence of tropism and primary reflex\nactions, while all the higher and highest functions are the work of\nReason, which arms the will with inhibition and suppresses all impulses\nand actions that hinder its purposes. It is characteristic of these\nfunctions that they are first worked out as concepts by the\nconsciousness before they are realized as movements.\n\nIt was essential for Morality to find this whole organic structure ready\nto its hand before it could become a factor in human life. This\nstructure had been developed and perfected by the organism for its own\npurposes, for the defence and enrichment of its life, to ward off\npainful and obtain pleasurable feelings. Morality took possession of it\nand used it for its own ends, which do not at the first glance coincide\nwith the aims which the individual immediately perceives and imagines,\nand may indeed be diametrically opposed to these, preventing pleasurable\nemotions, causing him pain and even endangering his life.\n\nBut Morality, which is a creation of society, was only able to dominate\nthe individual and gain control of the organic apparatus of his vital\neconomy, because its purpose is directed towards the same goal as the\ntendencies of the individual organism, prolonging them beyond the\nindividual's scope, aiming at his preservation, and thus coinciding with\nhis instinct for self-preservation.\n\nMorality limits the individual's vainglory and subordinates him to the\ncommunity; it is the condition on which the community allows the\nindividual to participate in the mightier and more varied means of\nprotection and the enrichment of existence which it has to offer. But\napart from this somewhat remote advantage of Morality, there is another\nimmediate one for the individual: it consists in the continual exercise\nand consequent strengthening of inhibition; therefore, as we have learnt\nto see in inhibition the main factor in the development and\ndifferentiation of all living creatures, it offers a means of raising\nthe individual to biological perfection. The faculty of inhibition,\nbeing in a continual state of strong tension, makes automatic reflexes\nsubject to the will, makes blind impulses obedient to the somewhat less\nblind reason, and helps man along the path of evolution from the status\nof a creature of instinct to that of a thinking personality of strong\ncharacter, capable of judgment and foresight, a personality which does\nnot seek to attain the pleasurable emotions necessary to every living\ncreature by pandering to his senses and satisfying the appetites of the\nflesh, but achieves them by gratification of a higher order, by the\ntriumph of the intellect over vegetative life, by strengthening the will\nin relation to the stimuli of the outer world and the organs, by taking\npleasure in the fact that the will is content with its sway. These are\nharsh but subtle pleasures which, when they continue to preponderate in\nthe consciousness, bring about that state of subjective happiness which\nis in the highest degree beneficial to life.\n\nMorality is an arrangement which has arisen from the needs of society;\nthat is to say, it is not innate, but is an artificial institution of\nthe race. However, it grafts itself upon the natural organs and\nattributes of man, and thus, from being a sociological phenomenon, it\nbecomes a biological one. The idea that Morality is something absolute,\na cosmic force, and that it would still exist and be valid if there were\nno human beings, and even if the earth had no existence, I have refuted\nwith scorn. We must hold fast to the fact that Morality is a law of\nhuman conduct, that it is in force only among mankind, and that apart\nfrom mankind it is unthinkable. As, however, it becomes a differentiated\nfunction of the apparatus of inhibition, it participates in the general\nprocesses of life and leads us to that point where, indeed, we face the\nunnerving outlook upon the absolute and the question of eternity.\n\nMy arguments have led me to many phenomena that can be established and\ninterpreted as facts of experience, but the explanation of which lies\nbeyond the power of the human mind. We have examined the riddle of life,\nand we have distinguished therein a number of inexplicable things: the\nlack of a beginning, sensitiveness to stimuli, consciousness, the\ntransformation of vibrations into sensations and concepts, the will, and\ninhibition. We are forced to the conclusion that the only discernible\naim of life's activities is the preservation of life, or, more shortly,\nthat life is its own aim and object. Morality, too, either openly or by\nimplication, sets itself the one clearly demonstrable task of ensuring\nto the individual the preservation and security of his existence in a\nhigher sphere than that of individual vegetative life processes. Thereby\nit fits into the scheme of existence, its mysteries and aims, and\nbecomes an integral part of the cycle of life which emerges from\neternity and returns to it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nMORALITY AND LAW\n\n\nThe coercion which the community exercises upon its members, by means of\nwhich it forces them to adapt their actions and abstention from action\nto the standard it has set up, has two forms: Custom and Law. Are the\ntwo really different? What is their relation, one to the other? These\nare questions worth investigating.\n\nEver since the earliest times, grave men have meditated on the relation\nbetween Custom and Law. They were forced by evidence and practical\nexperience to note a difference between the two institutions, but at the\nsame time they had the definite impression that they trace their origin\nto the same source. Socrates distinguishes between the written laws of\nhis country and the unwritten ones which express the will of the gods.\nThe former constitute positive Law which the citizen must observe and to\nwhich he must submit; the latter, however, are higher, for they emanate\nfrom the gods themselves. The immutability of the unwritten laws is a\nproof that they are superior to the written ones. Written laws vary from\nstate to state. They are the work of individual law-givers who were\nsometimes wise men and sometimes unreasonable tyrants. But all contain\ncertain precepts which are everywhere alike, which everywhere impose\nthe same rules upon man. It is almost as if one and the same law-giver\nhad co-operated in the making of all the laws that obtain in the\ndifferent towns and countries, and are so unlike one another in many\npoints. This common law-giver, whose will is manifest in all laws,\nhowever far removed they be from one another, is the Deity. That is\nessentially Socrates' train of thought as given by Xenophon in his\n_Memorabilia_. The Attic sage speaks the language of his time, which, by\nthe way, is still that of many present-day people. The Deity, whose will\npermeates all written laws and to whom they may be traced, is the\nprinciple of Morality. Hugo Grotius, in a manner more appropriate to\nmodern thought, expresses it thus: \"Law and Morality spring from the\nsame source, namely, the strong social instinct natural to man. They\nbear witness to reasonable solicitude for the welfare of the community.\"\nThis placing on an equality of Law and Custom, of _jus_ and _mos_, is\nvery remarkable in such a strictly professional thinker, such a positive\njurist as Grotius. Kant discriminates between the doctrine of Virtue and\nthe doctrine of Law; he keeps them apart, but he emphasizes their\nconnexion, and the two together make up his doctrine of Ethics.\n\nAs a matter of fact, no fundamental difference between Law and Custom\nexists; only Law is enforced differently to Custom. It would be going\ntoo far to say: Law has sanctions and Custom has none. The latter has\nsanctions too, but they are of a different kind to those of the Law. He\nwho transgresses Custom will suffer the contempt of his fellow men, and\nthis may become so penetratingly severe that the most hardened and\nshameless rascal must feel it. In an old, loose form of society where\nindividualism is highly developed, and each one goes his own way, paying\nlittle regard to the others, there an unscrupulous, conscienceless rogue\nmay sin against Socrates' unwritten law without being penalized. In a\nyoung, closely-knit community, however, in which the feeling of intimate\nconnexion between the members is lively and vivid, he would be\nproscribed, as soon as he was found out, and it would be impossible for\nhim to remain, say, for example, in a small town of the United States.\nPublic opinion would make it so hot for him that he would be glad to\nescape with a whole skin. But this punishment is exceptional for\ntransgressions of Custom, whereas it is the rule for those of the Law.\n\nThe sanction of the Law is stricter than that of Custom, just as the Law\nitself is stricter than is Custom. The Law concerns itself with concrete\ncases in which consideration for one's fellow men must be practised,\nduties to him fulfilled, and his claims respected. These cases are\ndefined by Law as clearly as possible, whereas Custom confines itself to\ngeneralities and determines the whole attitude of the individual to his\nneighbour. Custom embraces the outer and inner life of man and\nsupervises his opinions, which are the parents of his deeds, and also\nhis deeds themselves; Law is only concerned with actions, and refrains\nfrom penetrating to the intimacy of thoughts, unless the latter alter\nthe essential character of the action, as premeditation in an act of\nrevenge and temporary or permanent irresponsibility alter the judgment\nof offences and crimes. Law is a miserly extract of custom, a meagre\nselection from its variety, a concentration and embodiment of its\nsurging vagueness. It may be compared with crystals, which in their\ngeometrically accurate forms are crystallized clearly and definitely out\nof a liquid, the mother liquor; or with the heavenly bodies which\nagglomerate out of surging primal nebul\u00e6. Custom is the primitive thing,\nLaw is derived from it. It appeals to its descent from Custom, and\nfounds, at any rate tacitly, its claim to respect on these grounds. A\nlaw which ran counter to Custom, which was confessedly in opposition to\nCustom, could never be maintained or prevail, though it bristled with\nthe menace of the most dreadful punishments.\n\nThe relationship of mother to child between Custom and Law may be\nobscure to the majority; it is clear to the analytical mind. Recognition\nof the essential unity of both phenomena explains an assumption which\nwas widespread among the best intellects from the Middle Ages until well\ninto the eighteenth century, but which has now been abandoned as\nerroneous by more positive, though indeed narrower, legal minds. This\nassumption is that there is a natural Law antecedent to historical Law,\nwhich exists and acts beside and above the latter, and which forms the\nbasis and the measure of every positive law, of every concrete legal\njudgment. It is comprehensible that the nineteenth century swept away\nthe idea of natural Law and freely made fun of it. To a sternly\ndisciplined legal mind it must indeed seem grotesque if a judge, in\norder to arrive at a verdict in some concrete dispute, cites the rights\nto which man is born instead of a certain text of the law, or even,\nfollowing Schiller's advice, reaches up to the stars and brings down\nthence the eternal Law. Even this procedure is not so farcical as it\nseems to stupid article-mongers and hair-splitting paragraphists, for\nthe procedure of equity of the English judges, who are not prone to\nclowning, is at bottom nothing but this reaching up to the stars and\nthis judging by the rights to which man is born. The feud between\nnatural Law and historical Law was really a quarrel about a word. Jean\nJacques Rousseau, his contemporaries and disciples, simply made a\nmistake in their choice of an expression. They were guilty of an\ninaccuracy when they spoke of natural Law. They should have said: \"the\ninnate claim of man that his person should be respected,\" or, \"natural\nconsideration for one's fellow man,\" or, most shortly and simply,\n\"Morality.\" To the latter legal lights would have raised none of the\nobjections with which they victoriously opposed natural Law.\n\nThe beginnings of Morality coincide with the beginnings of society, as\nthe latter could not have existed for a single day without the former.\nSince men, forced by the struggle for existence, emerged from their\noriginal, natural solitude and united in a community, they have had to\nwatch over their impulses, suppress their desires, do things they\ndisliked, and in all their actions and abstentions from action consider\ntheir neighbours' feelings, as they demanded that their feelings, too,\nshould be considered. That was Morality which limited the vainglory and\narbitrary conduct of unfettered man. It included all rules that\ndetermine the attitude of man to man. There was no distinction between\nCustom and Law. Men were ruled by custom which was traditional in their\ncommunity and observed by all; and their Custom had the force of Law.\n\nFormulated laws, and more especially written laws, appear comparatively\nlate. True, Asia has old examples of such; the Manava Dharma Shastra,\nthe book of laws of the Indian Manu, the Chinese Chings, the law of\nHammu Rabi, and that other law, akin to this, though not derived from\nit, but probably drawn from a similar older source, the law of the\nPentateuch. The laws of Draco, Solon and Lycurgus and the Roman Twelve\ntable law are appreciably younger; much later still the _leges\nbarbarorum_ were written down, some of them, like the prescriptive Law\nof the Germans set down in the \"_Sachsenspiegel_,\" not till the end of\nthe Middle Ages. It is peculiar to most of the old Asiatic laws that\nthey contain both rules of conduct and legal regulations, and that they\ndo not differentiate between these two kinds of precepts.\n\nLet us take one example: the Ten Commandments. Beside such positive\norders as \"Thou shalt not steal\"; \"Thou shalt not kill\"; \"Honour thy\nfather and thy mother\"; we find such as give rules for the character and\ncourse of spiritual happenings, regarding which others cannot observe\nwhether they are obeyed or not, like the commandments respecting man's\nrelationship to God, or admonishing man not to covet his neighbour's\nwife or goods. Those are subjective impulses, spiritual moods which are\nrevealed only to the eye of conscience as long as they do not betray\nthemselves in action, and which by their very nature cannot be the\nsubject of Law which deals only with outward manifestations of thought\nand will, and is concerned only with things done.\n\nIn constitutional Law, too, no less than in criminal and civil Law, the\neighteenth century tends to preface certain laws with universal moral\nprinciples, and to establish by formal law that the former are derived\nfrom the latter. The Declaration of Independence of the United States in\nJuly, 1774, says: We consider the following truths self-evident: that\nall men are born equal; that the Creator has bestowed upon them\ninalienable rights, amongst which are the right to life, to freedom, to\nthe pursuit of happiness, etc. So before these rights are guaranteed by\nthe Law, they are announced to belong by birth and nature to man, to be\nindependent of any particular and express bestowal by the law-giver, and\nbeyond all dispute or even argument. Of the thirteen States which formed\nthe original Union, ten accompanied their constitution by a Bill of\nRights which repeated the essential contents of the Declaration of\nIndependence of July, 1774; seven of them placed them as an introduction\nbefore their fundamental law, and three of them incorporated them in the\nlatter. Two others, New York and Georgia, distributed them among various\narticles of their constitution. Rhode Island alone refrained from a\ngeneral declaration. The States which joined the Union later, with few\nexceptions followed the example of their predecessors and built up their\nconstitution on the foundation of an explicit statement of the natural\nrights of man. The French Revolution followed the course which the\nUnited States had indicated, and began its constitution of 1791 with the\n\"Declaration of the rights of men and citizens,\" which is not a law in\nthe technical sense of the word, but is superior to all positive Law,\nconstitutes the latter's standard and touchstone, and straightway makes\nall laws invalid which are not animated by its spirit or which\ncontradict it.\n\nIn the beginning, therefore, there was Morality, and the first laws,\nwhich formulated its precepts either in oral tradition or in writing,\nrecommended without distinction what was good and desirable, and what\nwas necessary and expedient. The differentiation of the Morality, which\nthe commonwealth felt to be its code of right and wrong, into Custom and\nLaw took place in late times. It was most definite in Rome, where for\nthe first time a clear distinction was made between men's relation to\ntheir gods and their relation to one another; the former was left to the\nindividual's conscience, the latter subjected to the power of the State;\nthe elements of feeling and of dim perception were banished from the Law\nwhich confined its attention to deeds which it regulated in a\nhigh-handed manner. Law chose from out the all-embracing sphere of\nMorality one narrow area, that of mankind's immediate, material\ninterests, and took this as its sole theme. The object of all Morality\nis to enable men to live together in a community peacefully and\nprosperously; within the bounds of this more general purpose, the task\nof the Law is to suppress by force the grosser hindrances to this\nharmony among individuals, and by material means of coercion\nemphatically oblige everyone to respect the interests of his neighbour.\nWhat every responsible man of sound mind demands first and foremost is a\nproper respect for the possessions that are his by birth and\nacquisition, that is for his life, for his bodily welfare, for all the\ngoods he owns that minister to his needs, his comfort and his pleasure.\nHe who lays violent hands on these possessions, or threatens to endanger\nthem, is recognized to be an enemy; man arms himself against such an\none, fights against him, tries, if he have a strong character, to\ndestroy him, or flees from him if he is too weak to triumph over him;\nman only yields to such an one if he simply cannot help himself, but he\ndoes so with hatred and revenge in his heart, and in a state of mind\nwhich, if it becomes fairly widespread, sets every man's hand against\nhis fellow-men and leads to the ruin and even to the dissolution of the\ncommunity. Hence the task of Law is effectively to protect the\nindividual from the infringement of his rights by others. It places the\norganized forces of the community at the service of the individual whose\ninterests are threatened, for the criminal law penalizes more or less\nseverely attempts against life and health, unlawful seizure of property\nwhether by force or cunning, malicious molestation and offence; the laws\nof commerce keep watch over the faithful fulfilment of contracts dealing\nwith the fair exchange of goods or the execution of work, and in case of\nneed enforce it.\n\nA select few, everywhere only a small minority, has a different scale of\nvalues to that of the masses. For them \"life is not the supreme thing.\"\nThere are things they value more highly. The masses have no\nunderstanding for these people's needs and fine feelings. Their\nself-respect and their dignity are dear to them as wealth, their honour\nmore sacred than life itself. Unhesitatingly they sacrifice their\nproperty to freedom, and more unbearable than anxiety for their material\ninterests is life in surroundings in which brutality, vulgar sentiments,\nharsh egotism, malice, hypocrisy and treachery preponderate. The Law\ndoes not consider this minority. It is the creation and the servant of\nthe great majority. It clings to earth and is incapable of lofty\nflights. It is of no service to the elect in the preservation of their\nnoblest spiritual possessions or the defence of their ideals against\nclumsy maltreatment. It declares itself to be incompetent to deal with\nany but material affairs.\n\nTherein lies at one and the same time the strength and the weakness of\nthe Law. Its strength lies in the fact that it definitely limits its\nsphere of action and strives to achieve positive results by positive\nmeans, results intelligible even to a mean understanding. Its weakness\nlies in the fact that it ignores man's highest and noblest interests.\nAnd these interests are there, they too deserve consideration and\nprotection, they have a right to demand that the guarantee of the\ncommunity should embrace them as well. The well-being of the community,\nwhich is the object of Morality and of Law too, demands that such\nconditions should be created and maintained, as should enable the elect\nalso to enjoy life or at least find existence bearable. But Law does\nnot suffice for that. No law enjoins upon the careless throng of\npachyderms to spare the tenderest and noblest sensibilities of lofty\nnatures; no judge punishes thoughtless or purposely malicious injury to\nthem. To remedy this evil we must rise from the lowly plain of Law, the\nnatural dwelling-place of the masses, to the heights of Morality, the\nhabitual abode of superior minds. At the theological stage of\ncivilization refuge is sought with the gods in whose hands the\nprotection of essential, spiritual possessions is placed. They are\nexpected to punish the wicked whose evil deeds are beyond the reach of\nany penal code, they are expected to soothe and comfort when life is\nhard or even unendurable. That is the compromise that the elect made\nwith life in the hard times of European barbarism. They escaped from the\nworld and thus avoided contact with the repugnant masses. They shut\nthemselves up in cloistered cells away from mankind and held mystic\nintercourse with God. Among the people, cruel authorities with\ndifficulty maintained discipline and scanty law and order by means of\nflogging and the pillory, torture, the gallows and the wheel. The\nminority of the elect disciplined themselves, suppressed their lower\nimpulses by self-imposed mortification, and with the help of prayer and\nbelief in God's promised millennium managed to keep their heads above\nwater despite the crushing spectacle of the life of those times.\n\nLong before the Christian era, the Greeks of noble disposition felt the\nneed of living in an atmosphere of higher intellectuality and morality\nthan that of the market-place, and they hid themselves behind the\ncloud-curtain of the Eleusinian Mysteries, where they kept to\nthemselves, escaped the rule of the rude Law, and followed the nobler\nprecepts of Morality. Whenever the measure of Morality contained in\npositive law did not suffice for the minority with higher aspirations,\nthis minority adopted the same expedient, a form of esotericism; small\ncircles were formed outside the community in which there was added to\nthe current legal code a superstructure of stricter rules, more finely\nshaded duties, more courteous consideration. Present-day life also\noffers examples of this tendency which is met with in all ages. There\nare select circles and professions in which the standard of\nirreproachableness is far higher than among the mass of the people.\nThere a man is not held blameless, simply because he has never\ntransgressed a positive law, never come into conflict with the powers of\njustice. He must be as unspotted in the eye of moral justice as he is in\nthat of the Law. A club or association that is self-respecting will not\nadmit to membership a candidate reputed to lie, to have an evil tongue,\nto break his word, to be a toady and a snob, though none of these\noffences are punishable by law. It has happened that a corps of German\nofficers has forced one of their number to send in his papers because he\nhas seduced and deserted a respectable girl, an adventure flattering to\nthe vanity of puppies who, as like as not, boast of it, and with which a\njudge can only deal if the injured girl appeals to him--and even then he\ncannot punish the offender, but merely sentence him to pay damages.\n\nAlmost the whole world is agreed on the point that the Law does not\nsufficiently protect honour. Positive Law evidently does not consider it\nof such value as material possessions, for the defence of which it knows\nitself to be qualified. But there are numbers of people whose honour is\ndearer to them than their fortune, even than their life, and trembling\nwith indignation they see that a thief who steals their purse with a few\nshillings is haled off to prison, while a slanderer who sullies their\nhonour either goes unpunished, or at most gets off with a fine, which\nmerely adds official insult to the injury. In this case the Law has\nlagged so far behind Morality that individuals try of their own accord\nto bridge the gulf without counting on the intervention of the\ncommunity. For aspersions of their honour the masses take revenge with\nfists and cudgels, often with bloody results; and among the elect they\nresort to duels with lethal weapons, a preposterous proceeding due to\ndesperation, and a bitter indictment of the prevailing laws. It is a\ndeed of self-help, like the formation of a vigilance committee among the\nanarchical throng of a lawless rabble. Hardly to be justified on\nreasonable grounds, it is intelligible from the point of view of\nhistorical tradition, and as a survival of dim and primitive ideas. In\nearly days a properly regulated duel was an ordeal showing the judgment\nof heaven. It was the general conviction that God would give victory to\nthe right and crush the wrong. When human Law failed, the injured party\nappealed to the source of all Law and placed his cause in the hands of\nthe Almighty. From this point of view the duel is no unsuitable means\nof preventing plots to evade the law. Even if the injured party is\ninexperienced in the use of the weapon, even if his opponent is skilled\nand vastly his superior, he need not worry, for God fights on his side.\nTherefore he is more sure of success than if he entrusted his cause to\nfallible human judges. But from the moment that the duel ceases to be\nregarded as a means of arriving at the verdict of God, nothing can be\nurged in its defence, and that it nevertheless persists is a fact that\ncan only be accounted for by the inadequacy of the current laws.\n\nIt really is astonishing that the Law does not yet appraise honour at\nits true value. Educated people almost unanimously regret and condemn\nthe backwardness of the Law in this respect, all the more so because the\ntremendous development of the respectable, as well as of the\ndisreputable, Press facilitates and aggravates libel to a hitherto\nundreamed-of extent, and no defence can overtake the slander which is\nquickly spread broadcast. Doubtless public opinion will urge that\nmeasures be taken to bring the Law into line with the views now held on\nall sides on the significance of honour, its defencelessness and its\nneed for protection. That this has not yet been done is due to the\nslowness with which the Law adapts itself to the demands of a Morality\nwhich grows ever more profound and more refined. Law, which originally\ndevoted itself only to the crudest material interests, very slowly\nextends the range of its protection, but it does so continually, with an\never-widening embrace, including more and more delicate, more and more\nnoble, possessions, taking into consideration ever higher and ever finer\nneeds. What early legislator would have thought of man's needing\nprotection not only against murder, grievous bodily harm and\nmaltreatment, but also against the dangers due to ignorance and\ncarelessness in light-heartedly spreading infectious diseases, and\ncontaminating water and the air? Who would have dreamed in former times\nthat positive Law would consider the sensitiveness of nerves, desire for\nbeauty, dislike of ugliness and forbid disturbing street noises, protect\nthe countryside from wicked disfigurement, and prevent the construction\nof buildings which would spoil the artistic architectural plan of a\ncity?\n\nThese little traits, these concessions to personal demands, which to a\ncoarse mind do not seem obviously justified, go to prove that positive\nLaw continues to grow beyond the bounds of its unavoidably crude\nmaterialism, and strives to rise into the regions of the unwritten law\nof the Peripatetics, where ideal possessions are of more importance than\nthose which have traditionally come within the scope of criminal and\ncivil Law. Law and Custom have a natural tendency to approach more and\nmore nearly to one another, to become merged in one another where the\nline that divides them is but faintly indicated. The closer the union\nbetween them, the more perfect is the Morality of a society. Absolute\nperfection would be reached if Law, which has been derived by\ndifferentiation from Morality, should, after a protracted period of\ndevelopment, return to its source and be completely merged again in\nMorality. But that is a dream which can never be realized as long as\nman is constituted as he is at the present time. Enthusiasts have\ndreamed of it, and in their imagination have seen an anarchical and\nlawless society in which no positive Law, no sanctions of force were\nneeded, and in which the understanding and conscience of individuals\nwould suffice to ensure the rule of good faith and goodness, and the\ncurbing of selfishness. As far as man can tell we shall never attain\nthis Utopia. We shall never be able to do without positive Law, not only\non account of undeveloped and perverse natures, in which animalism has\nthe upper hand of humanity, and which must be kept under strict\ndiscipline, but because a sure guide is needed in cases of doubt and\nirresolution which confuse even the good, nay, the best, men when\npassion and violent desire, with their heavy thunderclouds, darken the\noutlook of Reason, and judgment wavers amid the hurly-burly of a\nspiritual tempest. All that we may hope for and should desire is that\nLaw should be filled with the spirit of Morality and embrace as many\nmoral ideas as possible.\n\nIt lies in the nature of the thing that Morality was never clearly and\ndefinitely formulated, for as soon as this was done it assumed the\ncharacter of Law. It remained general and slightly vague, it spoke to\nmen in such indefinite terms as \"good,\" \"virtue,\" \"duty,\" \"love of one's\nneighbour,\" \"unselfishness,\" \"patience\"--terms into which everyone can\nread the meaning which suits his thoughts and feelings. Mankind has\nnever lacked moral teachers. The Indian Shastras and the Chings,\nConfucius and Meng Tse, the prophets of Israel and Ben Sirach, Plato\nand the wise men of the Stoics, the Zend Avesta, Jesus and Paul, the\nplatonic ethics of Nicomachus, those of Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius,\nthousands of years ago preached the principles which exhaust the whole\nfield of Morality, and beyond the essentials of which none of the later\nmoralists have gone; neither the \"Imitation of Christ\" nor Ibn Bachia,\nSpinoza, the Scotch school and Kant, up to Wundt and Guyau.\n\nBut what about the effect of the doctrines which they advocated gently\nor passionately, adducing proofs or uttering threats? To lend weight to\nthem they either appealed to God, threatening mankind with His wrath and\nvengeance, or to Reason, which, according to them, could advise man only\nfor his good. Perhaps they could intimidate those who had blind faith\nand convince the reasonable. But there are many of little faith, and\nmore still who are unreasonable, and on these the persuasion, warnings\nand conclusions of the Moralists had no effect. For these it was\nimperative to clothe the minimum of Morality, the minimum without which\nno society can exist, in the definite form of laws, and so create the\nLaw to which the weapons of the community lend compelling force. Thus\nthe whole material of Ethics is divided into Morality and Law. The\nTheologians and Scholiasts who trace all binding rules of human conduct\nback to revelations of the Divine Will recognized on principle only one\nsingle law: but the aspect of practical life made even them distinguish\nbetween the \"_lex indicativa_\" and the \"_lex pr\u00e6ceptiva_,\" between an\nindication or counsel and precept or command. The \"_lex indicativa_\" is\nMorality, the \"_lex pr\u00e6ceptiva_\" is the Law.\n\nCodes are the normal expression of the Law. Not all Law is formulated in\nthis way, for there is a recognized Law of custom, but all laws,\ncodified or not, become a part of the prevailing Law. Naturally, and as\nis only reasonable, all Law is pre-existent in the consciousness of the\nmajority, and the law-giver's r\u00f4le is limited to setting down in\nparagraphs universally acknowledged principles dictated by public\nopinion. However, there are an appreciable number of historical\ninstances in which this procedure is reversed; the law-giver, without\ninquiring whether his ideas were in accord with the general conscience,\narbitrarily clothed his dictates to the community in paragraphs which it\nhad to accept as Law. It is clear that this procedure is extremely\nrisky. Even if the law-giver possesses superior wisdom, even if he is\nfar in advance of his people and his age, even if his intentions are of\nthe best, there is grave danger that the moral feeling of the people\nwill revolt against the laws thus forced on them. Outwardly they yield\nto the pressure of public authority, but they obey the Law with a keen\ninner sense of opposition; a chasm yawns between conscience and the\npractice of the Law, ideas of Morality and Law become confused, the\nmoral foundation of all laws totters, and the public gets into the habit\nof regarding the Law as something alien and hostile, which cannot be\ndisregarded with impunity, but which it is not only not culpable, but\neven meritorious to evade.\n\nAn enormous amount has been written on the subject of what a law is, and\nall this literature expresses in endless words very few and, almost\nwithout exception, very mediocre thoughts. I should consider it an\nunpardonable waste of time to devote any considerable space to this\nrubbish, either in order merely to quote opinions or to investigate and\nconfute them. Perhaps the best thing said of the laws is Hobbes's\ndescription: Civil Law (the law of the country) is nothing but a\nguarantee of natural Law. It is true that this definition implies a\nsupposition: the existence of natural Law which, however, is not binding\nin itself but requires the sanctions of the law of the country.\nMoreover, it is only correct if we add the limitation that it does not\nguarantee all natural Law, but only a part of it. Hobbes is also forced\nby his definition of the law of a country to explain what he means by\nnatural Law, and he does not evade this duty. \"Natural Law,\" he says,\n\"is the decree of true Reason (_ratiocinatio recta_) with regard to what\nwe must do and what avoid for our self-preservation.... Transgression of\nnatural Laws is due to false Reason (_ratiocinatio falsa_).\"\n\nIn spite of its vagueness this explanation of Hobbes's shows that what\nhe really means by natural Law is Morality, and in this respect his\nviews on the relation of natural Law to civil Law, that is, of Morality\nto Law, practically coincide with mine. Nevertheless, he ignobly denies\nthe moral decency of his doctrine of Law when later on he coldly and\ndryly remarks: All that the state commands is just, all that it forbids\nis unjust. Saying this he stupidly and obsequiously makes the civil\ncode the source of Law, whereas by his own definition Law (he says\n\"Natural Law\") is the source of the civil code. It is more pardonable\nfor Pusendorf, a formal jurist, to say: \"Law is the decree (_decretum_)\nwith which a superior binds his subject (_sibi subjectum_).\" That\ninterpretation of Law is possible if it is considered from outside; it\nis a means of coercion in the hands of the mighty to subjugate the\ndependant; this point of view ignores the essential; but Pusendorf has\nno concern with this, for he makes no claim to be a philosopher, he\nkeeps within the bounds of juridical practice.\n\nThe Bishop of Seville, Saint Isidor, the most respected theologian of\nthe time between the last patristic writers and St. Thomas Aquinas,\ngives the following definition of Law: \"Law is an institution\n(_constitutio_) made by the people, by which the nobles (_majores\nnatu_), together with the common folk, have given a sanction to some\nordinance.\" This says little about the essence of Law, but it leads to\nthe question of the origin of laws. On this subject, too, whole\nlibraries full of books have been written since the time of Plato and\nAristotle; luckily, for the most part, they now only serve as food for\nmoths and worms.\n\nFrom this tangle of hair-splitting and sophistry, from this muddle of\nsyllogisms, dogmatism and deep-sounding phrases which mean nothing at\nall, one thought emerges pretty clearly, to wit, that only the highest\nauthority in the State has the right to make laws. On this point there\nis perfect unanimity; and that is natural, for it is so obvious that it\nhas no need to be circumstantially investigated and proved in the fifty\nthousand books that have been written on the subject. It is perfectly\nclear that one cannot possibly force all the members of a state to obey\ncertain commands and prohibitions which the Law contains, unless one is\nstronger than each one of them, and therefore the Law must necessarily\nemanate from the highest power in the state. It is beside the point to\nobscure this simplest and most transparent fact by questions as to the\nright of the law-giver. He needs no theoretical right since he has the\nmight. To use Kant's expression, positive Law is not a creation of the\nmind ([Greek: noumenon]), it is a phenomenon; its existence is a matter\nof empiricism, not of reason; it is a matter of fact and is under no\nobligation to justify itself intellectually to the intellect. No\nlaw-giver has ever troubled to tack on a preamble or an addition to the\nlaw he promulgates proving that he has the right to enact it.\n\nBut in the literature dealing with this matter opinions differ widely as\nto who embodies or possesses the highest power in the state. According\nto some it is the king, because he wields the sword and therefore can\nenforce unconditional obedience; according to others it is the Church,\nbecause the Law, to be binding, must be moral, and Morality is\nestablished by God since the Church is the representative of God on\nearth. Others again regard the people as a whole as the highest power,\nbecause without their assent no law can prevail, and because even the\nking only has the power of which the people divests itself to transfer\nit to him. History has advanced beyond this quarrel.\n\nTo-day no one dares to dispute the fact that the nation alone is\nqualified to enact laws for itself through the agency of its chosen\nrepresentatives, and that no law can be binding for the people without\ntheir explicit or tacit consent. In Switzerland, where they have\ninstituted the referendum, the people by their vote can repudiate a law,\nmade by their representatives in their name, before it comes into force;\nand in the other constitutional states they have recourse to the\nfollowing expedient: whenever a law is promulgated which seems\ninacceptable to them, at the next Parliamentary election they vote for\nmen who are pledged to do away with it. The people have the power to\nmake laws, therefore they also have the right to do so, and they do not\nhesitate to revolt if this right is tampered with. In recent times no\nnation outside Russia has submitted to having laws forced on it, in\nframing which it has not co-operated, and which it has not expressly\naccepted. The United States tore themselves away from the Mother Country\nwith the cry: \"No taxation without representation!\" and more than a\nhundred years before that the English people had irrefutably proved to\nthe Stuart king, Charles I, that he had no right to make and unmake\nlaws, by condemning him in a court of law with legal formalities and\nthen having his head cut off by a masked executioner.\n\nThe legal code is the concrete form of the Law, and the Law is the\ncrystallization of the most material part of Morality. And as Morality\nbinds every member of the community, as man is only tolerated in the\ncommunity on condition that he respects Morality, it is a matter of\nlogic that he should also respect the Law; that is to say, that he must\nnot only submit to it because he fears punishment if he fails to do so,\nbut that he must feel obedience to the Law to be part of his Morality,\nthat he must act lawfully at the dictate of his own conscience, and not\nbecause of the threat of the power of the state. This might be\nenunciated as a principle without reservation and without limitation, if\nin practice the laws always were, as in theory they should be, moral.\nBut this is not necessarily the case. The law is a form, and every form\ncan be abused by filling it with unlawful contents. If an unscrupulous\nadulterator of wine fills a champagne bottle of the usual shape,\ncomplete with metalled and wired cork and a label recommending it, with\nsome disgusting mixture and puts it on the market, he is severely\npunished for adulteration of food and infringement of the law protecting\ntrade marks. But if the government publish in the _Gazette_ foolish,\nrisky, and perhaps absolutely immoral orders in the form of a law, duly\narranged in chapters, articles and paragraphs, as the people are\naccustomed to seeing their moral laws expressed, who impugns them for\nit?\n\nThe examples of this in history are only too numerous. To this category\nbelong all laws seeking to maintain the validity of state authority at\nthe expense of the natural rights of thinking and feeling men, e.g. all\nreligious persecutions, the maltreatment of socialists, excise laws and\nduties which hamper freedom of work and movement, or are tantamount to\nrobbing a particular man or all citizens. As a rule, laws of this kind\ncan be imposed upon the people only in a despotically ruled state, since\nthe people in this case has no share in legislation; but constitutional\ngovernment is no guarantee against it, for parliamentary majorities can\nbe forced to enact tyrannical laws, by fanning the flame of national or\nparty fanaticism, by encouraging prejudices, or by intimidation; this is\nproved by Bismarck's May laws and Socialist laws, and also by the laws\npassed by the National Assembly at Versailles against the rebels of the\nCommune and against Paris. Obedience to such laws cannot reasonably be\ndemanded. Only a Hobbes will dispute this, for whom \"everything that the\nstate commands is just, everything that it prohibits is unjust,\" or the\nDigest according to which \"_quod principi placuit, legis habet vigorem_\"\n(what pleases the ruler has the force of law). Legal enactments, though\nthey be immoral, are yet formal Law; as a matter of fact, however, they\nare wrong, and even if their originator has the power by brute force to\nsecure obedience to them, no man who tries to evade them and to get them\nabolished will be accused of immorality.\n\nA trivial objection strikes one at once. Only a despotic megalomaniac\nwill forbid his subjects to make representations in the proper quarters,\nand in the proper way, for the purpose of getting a bad law abrogated;\nbut as long as it is in force it must be obeyed. For if every citizen\nwere allowed to make a selection of the laws according to his choice,\nacquiescing in some and rejecting others, this would lead straight to\nanarchy. The reply to this is that anarchy, although a terrible evil, is\nnotwithstanding a lesser one than an immoral law, that is, a law which\nsins against Morality. For the maintenance of law and order which the\nState guarantees is only preferable to anarchy because it enables\nindividuals to live together in peace, and guarantees liberty of\nmovement and respect for persons, life and property. But if the State\nacts wrongly, and interferes in the feelings and convictions of\nindividuals, if it uses brute force to compel them to actions and\nabstentions against which all the good in them rebels, then its law and\norder is law and disorder, and it is the State itself which brings about\na condition of anarchy by making force the ruling factor in the life of\nthe individual. For the latter it is all one whether he has to yield to\nthe force of the State or that of his neighbour. Nay, more, his position\nis worse in a condition of anarchy caused by the State, than in that\nwhich existed before the State was formed, because it is easier to meet\nforce with force, when this emanates from an individual who is one's\nequal, than when it is exercised by the superior organization of the\nState. The State which enacts immoral laws denies its own principle and\ncauses its own dissolution.\n\nThe intellectual constructions of the eighteenth century, of which the\nmost famous is J. J. Rousseau's \"Social Contract,\" are not taken\nliterally by anyone nowadays. Nobody seriously believes that one day\nindividuals living in a state of nature banded themselves together and\nmade a contract, by virtue of which they renounced certain liberties\nand rights and transferred them to a superior authority which was to\nrule them so as to promote the general welfare, peace and happiness. But\nif the procedure was not quite so simple as this, at least it is certain\nthat the State undertakes the task which Rousseau expressly prescribes\nas its aim. If, however, through its fault, the fault of its\nlegislation, the welfare of the community suffers, and peace and\nhappiness are not promoted but hindered, disturbed and destroyed, then\nevery citizen has the moral right to revolt against the State and\nparalyse its pernicious might; not because it has broken a formal\ncontract with its citizens, but because it has become inimical to the\npeaceful life of mankind, the purpose of every social community. If\nanyone is troubled at the thought that there is no reliable standard\nwhereby to test the morality of a law and no place indicated where such\na measure can be applied, he may take comfort by remembering that all\nMorality is surrendered to the feelings and judgment of the majority and\nhas no other sanction than this. History teaches us that the majority\ndoes not acquit itself too badly of its duty. Public opinion suffices to\nmaintain Morality at a certain level in a community. And if public\nopinion is capable of ensuring respect for the unwritten law of Morality\nwithout the sanctions of State Law, it may surely be recognized as a fit\njudge of the morality of a law. That is the theory of the right of\ncitizens to defend themselves by all means, even by force, against\nimmoral laws. Practically, it is of no importance, because nowadays, at\nleast in all progressive and liberally governed States, the people have\nconstitutional means at their disposal to prevent or quickly to rid\nthemselves of laws that are obnoxious.\n\nMorality includes the Law, whereas Law is only a part of Morality. Owing\nto its coercive nature, the Law is obliged to be concrete and material\nand to ignore all the imponderable, barely perceptible, spiritual and\ndream-like things which hover round Morality, surround it with an\natmosphere and transport it beyond definite boundaries into the realm of\nthe unconscious and visionary. The total exclusion of the element of\nfeeling which Morality includes, constitutes the most profound\ndifference between it and the Law. Law protects order but knows no love.\nThe separation of Law from Morality is due to the pressure of\nselfishness which thinks it has made the greatest possible concession\nwhen it rises to the height of saying with Ulpian: \"_Neminem laedere.\nSuum cuique reddere. Honeste vivere._\" Injure no one; that is, refrain\nfrom the ruthless use of force; render to each his own; that is, do not\nretain in rascally fashion what belongs to another; live honourably;\nthat is, give no offence to your neighbour by disorderly conduct and\ndepravity.\n\nWell and good. At a pinch one can live like that. But the words pity,\nkindness, love of one's neighbour do not occur in Ulpian's pithy\nstatements, and the Law knows nothing of them.\n\nThe Law guards each man's well-earned possessions, but it bids no one\nmake sacrifices. Morality can demand these. It can insist that the\nindividual should freely, and urged by his own inner impulse, impose\nsacrifices upon himself, reduce his possessions in favour of another,\ndisturb his personal comfort at any moment, perhaps even risk his life;\nthat is to say, that of his own free will he should do just those things\nfrom which the Law carefully shields him. Where the Law says: injure no\none! Morality says often enough: injure yourself to do good to your\nneighbour. Where the Law says: to each man his own! Morality not seldom\nsays: to each man your own if he needs it more than you do. Morality\ncounts on the existence of a quality of which the Law has no need:\nSympathy. To be moral we must feel in our own being at the time, or\nretrospectively, the subjective experiences of our neighbour, with the\nsame quality of emotion that he feels; his pain must be our pain, as his\npleasure must be our pleasure. For the man who cannot do this--who\nrealizes in his mind the circumstances of his neighbour only as an\nimage, and without the concomitant note of feeling--it is impossible to\nrise to the height of Morality. It is not his fault, for the gift of\nsympathy is an organic disposition, which you either do or do not\npossess, which you can develop or suppress, but which you cannot create\nif it is lacking. Nevertheless, the lack of sympathy is a pitiable\ninfirmity, for it prevents a man from scaling the heights of Morality.\n\nTo respect the Law is to practise a wise selfishness. To act morally is\nto divest oneself of selfishness and attain the privilege of\nunselfishness. To behave in strict accordance with the Law earns the\nmerited praise of civic blamelessness. But to act morally is a virtue\nwhich is of incomparably higher quality than that of mere\nblamelessness. The law-abiding man, the honest man, is praised as having\nbeen \"_Integer vitae sceleris purus_.\" That is an acceptable epitaph.\nBut the man of active Morality, willingly suffering for others, provides\nan example which reconciles millions to the hardships of life. The\nformer is a worthy man, but the latter is a saint.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nINDIVIDUAL MORALITY AND COLLECTIVE IMMORALITY\n\n\nMen, who would be deeply offended if their Morality were called into\nquestion, quite coolly investigate the problem as to whether the State\nin its actions and omissions is bound by the same moral laws as the\nindividual, and the majority of them come to the conclusion that in its\nrelation to other States, the State must not be guided, that is to say,\nhampered, by moral considerations. They go further than this and not\nonly liberate the State in its dealings with other countries from the\ntrammels of Morality, but claim for the government the privilege of\nstanding beyond and above the moral law in the conduct of public\naffairs, because to their mind both foreign and home politics move on a\ndifferent plane to that of ethics. If anyone objects to this shameless\ncontention, its advocates contemptuously dismiss him with the disdainful\nremark: \"That is the drivel of a layman, and no man of science would\nwaste his time on it.\" And if you were to reply: \"Your views are those\nof gaolbirds who try after the event to hatch a theory justifying their\nmisdeeds,\" they would probably shrug their shoulders and murmur\nscornfully: \"The man is obviously mad.\"\n\nProfessorial wisdom has formulated pedantically what practical\npoliticians, the heads of states and leading ministers have thought,\nsaid and done. Napoleon remarked at St. Helena to Count de Las Cases,\nwho respectfully notes the fact in his \"_M\u00e9morial de Sainte H\u00e9l\u00e8ne_\":\n\"The actions of a ruler who labours for the community, must be\ndistinguished from those of a private individual who is free to indulge\nhis feelings; policy permits, nay, commands, the one to do what in the\ncase of the other would often be inexcusable.\" Perhaps it was under the\ninfluence of this remark, with which he, no doubt, was familiar, that\nProfessor Nisard one day in a lecture at the Sorbonne in Paris\npropounded the theory that there was a dual Morality, one public or\npolitical, the other private, and that these two did not follow the same\nrules. That was shortly after the Coup d'Etat of Napoleon III, and it\nwas easy to descry, in the words of the celebrated professor of literary\nhistory, obsequiousness towards the new Emperor and the effort of a\ncourtier to excuse the violence which the Emperor had just done to the\nconstitution he had sworn to uphold. Nisard was one of the ornaments of\nthe university, a teacher of youth, who was as popular as he was\nrespected. But the sound ethical feeling of his hearers revolted against\nthe depravity of the principles he had just enunciated, and the violent\nexpression of their indignation drove him in shame and disgrace from his\nchair and out of the lecture hall.\n\nMacchiavelli is the most famous advocate of the Immorality of the State\nand the right of politics to be unethical, and his name is identified\nwith this infamous theory. An enormous amount has been written about\nthe Florentine statesman, his book of the \"Prince\" and the doctrines he\nadvances in it; among these works those in which his theories are\nendorsed preponderate to a horrifying extent over those which oppose and\nrefute them. Mohl and Paul Janet have furnished us with the best\nabstracts of these very numerous writings, and I refer the reader to\nthem. Here I can only dwell on the main points of the investigation.\n\nMacchiavelli writes: \"A man who wishes to be perfectly good is without\ndoubt in danger among those who are not good. It is therefore advisable\nthat a prince should learn not always to be good, so as to be able to\nput these rules of life into practice, or not, as circumstances may\ndemand.\" \"A prince cannot maintain loyalty to a treaty if it become\ndangerous to his interests.\" In short, the prince not only may, but\nmust, do what is in his own interests. He need not stop to think whether\nhis actions are honest. The only measure of their worth and\nappropriateness is the profit they promise. Their success always\njustifies them, only their failure proves them to be bad.\n\nThe most revolting thing in the arguments of the \"Prince\" is the\nequanimity with which the author adduces them. Never does he let slip a\nword of excitement, never does an indication of feeling appear. He\ntreats his subject not as an investigation of principles to which one\nadopts a mental attitude and which one should approve or disapprove, but\nas a description of existing facts which arouse one's emotions as little\nas, for instance, the enumeration of the qualities and characteristics\nof a mineral. It has been said in his defence that his book is a\nconcrete study, the presentation of the character of C\u00e6sar Borgia, of\nhis psychology and of his principles of government; and that\nMacchiavelli wished to give an objective account of the philosophy of\nthe events he had observed, but did not wish to judge them subjectively;\nand this, if for no other reason, because an expression of his own\nopinion would have been too dangerous for him. It is further urged that\nhis personal views are revealed in the treatise on Livy.\n\nThis defence, however, is far from convincing. In the \"Prince\"\nMacchiavelli maintains the same unconcerned and cool note that prevails\nin his account of the treacherous assassinations perpetrated in\nSenigaglia by his hero C\u00e6sar Borgia. The only personal feeling, which\npeeps out occasionally in both works, is a certain perverse, \u00e6sthetic\nsatisfaction, experienced by the artist with the eye of a connoisseur\nwho lingers over a work of nature, perfect in its way, and delights in\nthe harmony of actions which, with absolute logic, almost with\nmathematical precision, result from the definite premise supplied by a\ncertain character. Des Esseintes, the ideal \u00e6sthete invented by Joris\nKarl Huysmans, may appraise the worth of a monster solely by its beauty,\nwithout a thought for its morality. But by such appraisement he cuts\nhimself off from the community of men, though he, in his arrogance,\nbeing morally insane, may abuse them as philistines.\n\nSince it first appeared, Macchiavellism has found disciples and admirers\nin every age; and these, in liberating politics from all fetters of\nMorality, go further than its originator. The German jurist of the\ncentury of the Reformation, Schoppe (1576-1649), declares sententiously\nthat politics differ from Morality and have their own principles, just\nas Morality has: he considers that the chief difference between them is\nthat the latter takes as its subject of study that which should be; the\nformer, that which is. For this one phrase this pedant, who has\notherwise rightly deserved oblivion, has some claim to be remembered.\nFor here he consigns Morality to the realm of pure thought, of\ntheoretical and meditative idealism, while for politics he claims the\nsphere of practical reality and shows the first dim dawning of that\npractical policy (_Realpolitik_) which, two hundred and fifty years\nlater, was to be as the light of the sun to statesmen.\n\nThe Frenchman, Gabriel Naud\u00e9, almost a contemporary of Schoppe's,\nconstituted himself the champion of Coups d'Etat, if they promised\npolitical advantages; further, he justifies and praises the Night of\nSaint Bartholomew, a very energetic measure taken in his lifetime to put\nan end to the religious strife which was weakening France and causing\nthe government much embarrassment; his only regret is that the happy\nidea of slaughtering all the Huguenots was not carried out more\ncompletely; in other words, that the massacre of the obnoxious\nProtestants was not continued until they had been completely wiped out.\n\nEven in Descartes, who confessed to a somewhat shady opportunism in\nquestions of state and, for instance, concedes reasonable and moral\njustification to Absolutism, we find the depressing statement: \"Against\nthe enemy one is, so to speak ('_quasi_'), permitted to do anything,\" a\nconscious and determined denial of the Christian commandment \"Love thine\nenemies,\" which perhaps demands too much of the average man and can only\nbe expected from saints, but which, anyway, contains an exhortation for\nall the world at least to be just to one's enemies and act according to\nthe dictates of Morality.\n\nD'Holbach does not beat about the bush, but declares roundly: \"In\npolitics the only crime is not to succeed.\" Even Macchiavelli did not\nexpress it as baldly as that. To quote the Duke of La Rochefoucauld, he\nat least pays virtue the compliment of hypocrisy, for he gives this\nadvice: \"Do (the evil which is profitable) and excuse it afterwards.\"\nThis is a paraphrase of the old advice given by a pettifogging lawyer\nfor the benefit of the criminal: \"If you have done it, deny it,\" and of\nthe well-known phrase of Frederick the Great which runs something like\nthis: \"If I have a desire for a foreign country, I begin by seizing it,\nthen I send for lawyers who prove that I had a right to it.\" This, then,\nwas the opinion of that king who wrote an \"Anti-Macchiavelli,\" of whom,\nhowever, Paul Janet neatly remarks: \"Nothing is more typical of\nMacchiavellism than as heir presumptive to the throne to refute\nMacchiavelli's principles, and then as ruling monarch to apply them with\nthe more determination.\"\n\nFor the sake of the incorruptible Morality which Kant defends in his\nlittle work \"_Vom ewigen Frieden_\" (\"Of Eternal Peace\"), he may be\nforgiven for his weakly worldly wisdom in following up the \"Critique of\nPure Reason\" with the \"Critique of Practical Reason.\" In \"_Vom ewigen\nFrieden_\" he bravely demands harmony between Politics and Morality. More\nsweepingly than the English proverb, \"Honesty is the best policy,\" he\ndemonstrates that honesty is better than policy. It is an old tradition\nof all governments, and especially of diplomacy, to affect secrecy,\nsince their inavowable intrigues shun the light of day and the eye of\noutsiders. To-day the democracy in all constitutional states demands\nthat foreign policy should be given full publicity. Kant expressed his\nopinion shortly and sharply a hundred and fifty years ago: \"All\npolitical actions which cannot be made public are unjust.\" In the\neighteenth century, in which he lived and which began with the war of\nthe Spanish Succession, went on to the wars of Frederick the Great, and\nended with the war of the Coalition against the French Revolution, he\ndoes not dare to make a definite claim that force should be expelled\nfrom inter-state relations and Law put in its place, but he does say, if\nsomewhat timidly, that one may \"dream of\" an ideal in which the quarrels\nof nations are adjusted, like those of private persons, by laws which\nhave been framed and approved by all. Kant is a comforting exception\namid the many teachers of constitutional law who are almost unanimously\nMacchiavellian in their attitude, and who regard his point of view with\ncontemptuous and condescending leniency because he was an unworldly\nphilosopher, a theorist in politics.\n\nThe English and Scottish moral philosophers, from Locke to J. S. Mill\nand Herbert Spencer, are all untainted by Macchiavellism and recognize\nonly one Morality for the state as for the individual, for political as\nfor private action. But it must be admitted that their doctrines have\nnot yet been generally assimilated by the consciousness of their own\npeople. Now, as ever, it is a fundamental principle of English law that\n\"the king can do no wrong.\" That means that the king, the embodiment and\nepitome of the state, as the source of Law is Law itself, and is\nsuperior to all the laws of the country, which is a still more drastic\nparaphrase of the doctrine of the Digest: \"_quod principi placuit legis\nhabet vigorem_\"; every whim of the potentate has the force of law, and\nthe English have coined the horrible phrase, \"My country, right or\nwrong,\" a dictum which allows ruthless deceivers of the people and\ndestroyers of their country to hide their most appalling misdeeds\nbeneath the mask of patriotism and to disguise deeds worthy of a\ncriminal in the habiliments of virtue.\n\nReal patriotism demands that a true citizen and an honourable man should\nwith might and main, even at the price of his life, oppose any injustice\nabout to be committed by his government and his misguided compatriots;\nand, further, that he should strive to maintain his country in the path\nof Right and Morality even if, as sometimes happens, in a dispute\nbetween his nation and a foreign one the latter has Right and Morality\non its side. On the plea of inevitable partiality a judge may refuse to\ntry a case in which a near relative of his is involved. That is a\npermissible concession to that human imperfection which causes reason\nto fall silent when feeling raises its voice; and justice does not\nsuffer, for there are other judges who can take the seat that has been\nvoluntarily vacated. No citizen has the right to evade the duty of\njudging his country, because, if he fails, there is no other judge who\ncan be put in his place and fulfil his duty. Every citizen is personally\nresponsible for the just and moral behaviour of his community,\nresponsible to his own conscience, to his nation, to the world, to the\npresent and to the future; and if he is powerless to prevent depravity\nand misdeeds, he must at least solemnly and loudly condemn them, as this\nis his only means of avoiding joint responsibility for the infamy. If he\nfails to do this, the public crime becomes his personal crime as well.\nThe elder Brutus, so much and so justly admired by the Romans, is an\nexample to all, for without mercy he handed his own flesh and blood over\nto the executioner, when according to the law his life was forfeit. The\nstate has no greater claim to indulgence and mercy than had Brutus's\nson, if knowingly and intentionally it indulges in vice. For if you\nallow the dictum, \"Right or wrong, my country,\" to be valid, then you\nmust also apply it to the state of filibusterers that once existed in\nthe Antilles, and must demand of its citizens that their patriotism\nshould approve and defend theft, piracy, rape and assassination, for the\nsystematic perpetration of which their state was founded.\n\nIn contrast with this wretched \"My country, right or wrong,\" the\ninflexible dictum of the ancients stands out: \"_Fiat justitia, pereat\nmundus!_\" (Let justice be done though the world perish!). And what does\nmost honour to the French Revolution is the phrase so often mocked by\npolitical profiteers: \"Sooner shall the colonies perish than a\nprinciple!\" That was the standpoint of the prophets of Israel, who truly\ndid not love their people less than do the wretched scoundrels who shout\n\"hurray!\" and yell songs, when their country deals Morality and Right a\nbrutal blow, because the leaders think that this will profit the\ncountry, or themselves.\n\nFrederick the Great and Napoleon, as heads of the state, acted in\naccordance with Macchiavelli's views. At their time this was expressed\nby saying that they were guided by the necessities of the state. In the\nsecond half of the nineteenth century Macchiavellism received the name\nof practical policy (_Realpolitik_). The despisers of Morality, who call\nthe misdeeds of the state _Realpolitik_, apparently do not know that\nthis one word implies a very comprehensive admission. To their idea\n_Realpolitik_ is a policy which reckons only with realities, not with\ndesires, yearnings or hope, or as Schoppe brutally expresses it: with\nthat which is, not with that which ought to be. It is active in the\ndomain of facts, not in that of principles.\n\nBut, according to the advocates of _Realpolitik_, facts and realities\nmean nothing but the sole rule of interest, selfishness, ruthlessness,\nforce, cunning and contempt for all foreign rights; whereas fairness,\njustice, the curbing and suppression of one's own desires, consideration\nfor one's neighbour, love of mankind--all these are phrases, or let us\nrather say ideals, which are to be found, not in the world, but in the\nbrains of a small minority of enthusiasts without influence. He who\nconfesses to such views, to whom the worst impulses alone are real,\nwhile he relegates Morality to the sphere of the unreal, of visions far\nfrom reality, is a pessimist as long as his convictions remain theory;\nbut if he puts them into practice, or urges the leaders of the state to\ndo so, then he is an evildoer who breaks the moral law as soon as it\nappears unaccompanied by the police, the prison and the gallows. In\nprivate life a man with such views is a criminal who obeys his evil\ninstincts whenever he may hope to evade the law of the state. The\nbandit, who is clever enough to manage so that police and court of\njustice cannot touch him, is a practical politician, for the riches he\nacquires by theft, robbery and murder are realities; the criminal code\nis but a scrap of paper, something visionary, as long as its minions do\nnot seize him by the collar.\n\nThe immorality of politics, the way in which the foundations of Morality\nare ignored by the state, is the natural consequence of the power of\nrulers; for in them all the original instincts of the human beast still\nuntamed by moral law are exaggerated by the intense realization of their\nloftiness, the glory and the illustriousness of their position, and they\nare not forced by wholesome fear of the means of coercion wielded by the\nmoral administration to control themselves, to exercise and develop\ntheir organic powers of inhibition. The elevation of this fact of the\nImmorality of the state to a theory that the state is not bound by moral\nlaw, is derived from the conception which philosophers of all ages,\nfrom ancient times to the present day, have formed of the character and\nthe purpose of the state. Plato, in the Republic, maintains the\nomnipotence of the state, which nothing and no one can limit; and\nAristotle, not rising to such heights of error as his master, says more\nsoberly: \"It is a grave mistake to believe that every citizen is his own\nmaster.\" The Italian philosopher Filangieri considers the guiding\nprinciple and motive power of the state to be \"love of power,\" which a\nfool three centuries later called the \"will to power,\" whereupon other\nfools declared this to be a brand-new discovery.\n\nHegel goes farthest of all in his idolatry of the state; according to\nhim the state is not alone moral, but Morality itself, just as God is\naccording to the theologians. As it would be arrogant blasphemy to\ncharacterize anything that God ordains as immoral, as it would be\nnonsensical to wish to impose upon God a moral law from outside, not\nemanating from Him, to which He would have to submit even against His\nwill, so it is reprehensible to judge the actions of the state by the\nstandard of individual Morality; and it is equally absurd to admit any\nmoral coercion imposed on the state from outside, any guiding principle\nother than the law of its necessities and the logic which indicates the\nmeans needed to attain the necessary end.\n\nAccording to Treitschke the state is the highest form of human\nexistence; nothing higher than the state exists. He has never asked\nhimself the question whether, after all, humanity itself is not superior\nto the state which is the form, a form, of its existence and therefore\nnot its essence.\n\nFrom his conviction that the state is the highest thing existing,\nTreitschke concludes that certain moral duties, e.g. that of\nself-sacrifice, cannot possibly exist for the state. \"The individual is\nto sacrifice himself for the sake of a higher community of which he is a\nmember; but the state is itself the highest thing in the outer community\nof mankind, therefore it can never be confronted with the duty of\nself-destruction.\"\n\nHow obvious that seems! How grossly mistaken it is all the same! First\nof all the state is not the highest thing; there is something higher,\nand that is humanity; if then we recognize a moral duty of\nself-sacrifice for humanity, theoretically this duty may arise just as\nmuch for the state as for the individual.\n\nSecondly, the idea that owing to Morality the state might one day\nactually be in such a position as to be forced to sacrifice itself is\nthe most shocking nonsense. How could that possibly be? If the state\nalways acts with strict Morality towards its citizens and foreign\nstates, it is simply impossible that it should have to sacrifice its\nexistence in the fulfilment of some task; for tasks only arise when, and\nas long as, the state exists. Once it is disintegrated there can be no\ntask, either theoretically or practically, for it to accomplish,\ntherefore it cannot have to sacrifice itself for such a task. But if the\nImmorality of another state, or of a minority of its citizens, should\nendanger it, threaten it with an unjust attack from within or without,\nthen there is no rule of Morality that can forbid it to defend itself\nto the last, and its self-sacrifice could then only be a result of its\ncomplete annihilation in a justifiable war of necessity. On the other\nhand, even the most unscrupulous practical politicians do not possess\nany absolute guarantee against defeat, though they declare a war of\naggression to be permissible, whether waged on account of an itching for\npower, for purposes of conquest, for the winning of prestige,\npredominance or economic advantages.\n\nThirdly and lastly, the duty of self-sacrifice for the state can only be\nenvisaged and seriously discussed, if the state be conceived as a person\nto whom the duty of Morality applies in every way; but this conception\nis mystic anthropomorphism, not sober, sensible recognition of realities\nsuch as the practical politicians love to boast of.\n\nFor, as a matter of fact, the state is not a person but a concept, an\ninstitution created by man in the interests of one individual, of a few,\nof many or of all; an organization of habits and interests, a relation\nin which individuals live together. The mysticism of the weak-minded has\ntransformed it into a person with human features, with the qualities,\ndesires, duties, and aims of an individual; these men are intellectually\nincapable of penetrating to the fundamental facts underlying the\nconcept, and cling entirely to word-pictures which are mere verbalism.\nScholasticism in the eleventh and twelfth centuries was chiefly occupied\nin a quarrel about Nominalism and Realism. It was allowed to drop and\nwas not fought out to a decision. Perhaps because it is impossible to\nconvince these superficial babblers who take a name or a word for an\nobject actually existent in time and space, that they are in error. The\nfight between Abelard and Roscelet and that between the two of them and\nDuns Scotus ought to be taken up again. Above all, one ought to knock it\ninto the heads of those who make a fetish of the state that it is a mere\nword, the famous \"_flatus vocis_\" of the Nominalists, which they\nworship, to which they build altars and make human sacrifices.\n\nThis humiliating form of idolatry is practised by the school of\nsociologists known as organicistic, as well as by the practical\npoliticians. This school maintains that the individual has no\nindependent existence at all, that he continues to exist only in the\ncommunity, by the community, as a totally subordinate, dependent and\nincomplete fraction of the community; that the only real thing in the\nspecies is society, the state; that this must be regarded as a living\norganism, in which the individual human being is merely a cell which in\nsolitude, outside the community and detached from it, is as little\ncapable of life and has as little significance as a cell separated from\na highly differentiated creature, such as a man or some other mammal. In\nmy book \"_Der Sinn der Geschichte_\" (The Meaning of History), I threw as\nmuch light as I possibly could on this superstition, and I pointed out\nin detail its lack of sense as well as its dangers. I can, therefore,\ncontent myself here with a r\u00e9sum\u00e9 and a few indications.\n\nThere is nothing mysterious or supernatural about the historic or even\nthe prehistoric origin of the state; part we can learn from reliable\ndocumentary evidence, part we can gather with certainty from obvious\nfacts. From the primitive human family, which more probably consisted of\na pair than of a man and several women, there arose the formless horde,\na crowd of individuals of all ages, connected by blood; this developed\ninto a tribe in which age, strength, courage and intelligence were\nappreciated in a certain order, and thereby were produced the beginnings\nof discipline, co-operation and regularized mutual relations; that is to\nsay, of organization. This embryo of later formations, this sketchy\nbeginning of an economic and political community, evolved more definite\nand differentiated forms when the wandering huntsmen and shepherds,\nseeking prolific hunting grounds and pasture lands, and later on arable\nland too, came upon other groups of men and fought with them for the\npossession of the desired domain. In the conflict strong and brave men\ncame to the front, and the victor became the natural, and for the most\npart willingly recognized, leader and master of his companions, while\nany who opposed him were reduced by force to submit to his authority.\nThe state crystallized around this war-hero, and by all its members its\naim was clearly and obviously recognized to be defence and the increase\nof property outside the state; that is, the warding off of attacks by\nforeign robbers and acquisitive invasions of neighbouring domains--wars\nof defence and conquest, but always war; and within the state the\nmaintenance of a certain measure of safety for individuals. This safety,\nhowever, had to be purchased dearly by the limitation, often enough the\ncomplete surrender, of the right of self-determination, of independence\nof will and freedom; so dearly, in fact, that the price was far higher\nthan the value of the advantages acquired.\n\nThe leader in warfare became the ruler and bequeathed his privileges to\nhis descendants. The state was he himself, the land his property, the\npeople his family in the old sense of the word--that is, his kindred,\nhis servants, his slaves. His comrades in arms who had most\ndistinguished themselves became an aristocracy of the sword, the\nsupporters and tools of his power, though often enough they became his\nrebellious rivals and overthrew him. Defeated enemies were robbed of all\ntheir possessions and slaughtered; later on they were degraded to serfs,\na position little better than that of beasts of burden. A regular\nparasitism developed, by means of which the ruler and his companions in\narms exploited the subjugated and productive masses for their own\nprofit.\n\nThe acute form of this parasitism was warfare in its chronic form, its\nprolongation in times of peace, the extortion of contributions and\nduties, the imposition of taxes and forced labour from the people. The\nruler was clever enough to provide himself with a moral right to his\nexercise of brute force, by inventing a divine origin for his person and\npower, and making worship of his person an essential tenet of the\nnational religion. The systematic suppression of the masses without\nrights became the universal practice of the ruler and of the instruments\nof his power, and this gradually spread to the higher classes who could\nstill play the master to the lower strata, but were of no more account\nthan the vulgar herd in the eyes of the ruler, having to bow their\nproud heads beneath the same yoke. A very few races followed a different\ncourse of development from the primitive horde to an organized state.\nThey remained free members of the community with equal rights, they\nallowed no hereditary ruler from among themselves to become their\nsuperior, and governed themselves as republicans, who nevertheless also\nwaged war without exception, either forced thereto by the attacks of\ngreedy neighbours or lured into doing so by the example of the\nmonarchies within their purview or by lust for booty. In warfare they\nwon slaves and subjects, and changed into oligarchies, most often into\ndespotic states, and before they ultimately declined to the parasitism\nof a single man and his aids fell victims to a collective parasitism\nwhich gave the conquered and subjugated population up to the spoliation\nof the victors.\n\nUp till modern times the state preserved the character of a private\ndomain belonging to the ruler and his house. Wars were waged in the\ninterests of dynasties, and as late as the eighteenth century the\nsuccession in Spain and in certain provinces of Austria was the origin\nand purpose of various campaigns. The French Revolution first wrought a\nchange in this. Since this great event it has been impossible to plunge\nany European state into war in order to support the claims to property,\nmore or less legally justified, made by its ruling house. The people\nhave taken the place of princes, and now the principle of nationalities\nfurnishes the reason or excuse for bloody conflicts between states; and\nthis has become a factor in modern politics and history merely because\ndynasties had built up their realms regardless of the origin and\nlanguage of the inhabitants of the districts which they had conquered,\nstolen, bought, or acquired by exchange, by marriage or by inheritance,\nand were indifferent to the national unity of their subjects as long as\nthey could gain possession of the country and the people.\n\nFrom the time of its first vague beginnings up till the rise of modern\ndemocracy, the state has been nothing but a means of parasitism in the\nhands of the ruling person or group, and an instrument for the\npreparation for, and the waging of, war. All the state's tasks, which\napparently lie outside the sphere of war, if they are carefully\nexamined, will be found, after all, to aim at efficiency in war, and it\nhas gradually selected these tasks from the simple consideration that\ntheir execution increases the guarantees of success in warfare and in\ngovernment.\n\nThe deification of the ruler in Asiatic and Egyptian lands, the\nunconditional identification of the realm with his person, the uniform\nenslavement of the whole people, its na\u00efve exploitation for the sole\nbenefit of the sovereign and his assistants are no longer possible in\nEurope at the present day. The development of the nations to a higher\nplane of civilization and a clearer consciousness of their own worth\nforced the state to alter its constitution to a certain extent and to\ndevote itself, at least theoretically, more to the interests of its\ncitizens than the service of its prince. The intellectual constructions\nof the eighteenth century correspond to no historical reality. The\nSocial Contract, the inception of which J. J. Rousseau described so\ngraphically, was never made. Hutcheson, who had expressed the idea long\nbefore the enthusiast of Geneva, conceived it only as the epitome of the\nprinciples which the state should embody; according to Hume, the\nrelations of the citizens to each other and to the state are a tacit\ncontract which need not be explicitly formulated, because it originates\nin human nature; and Fichte even assures us that Rousseau himself did\nnot mean his Social Contract to be taken literally. According to him it\nwas only an idea. But societies must act in pursuance of this idea, and\nthey were founded, if not actually, yet legally upon an unwritten\ncontract. Anyway, the ideas of Hutcheson, Hume and Rousseau have\nnowadays been assimilated by the general consciousness. The masses\nbelieve in the natural, inborn rights of man, some of which he certainly\nhas surrendered in favour of the community; they demand and expect of\nthe state that it should serve their just interests, and they are no\nlonger ready to be made use of by the ruler and a powerful, often very\nsmall, minority, for purposes which are foreign to them, which they do\nnot know, and for which they do not care.\n\nThose who juggle with words, who talk dark and mysterious nonsense about\nthe concept of the state, or dogmatize fanatically on the subject,\ncontemptuously call this conception of the nature of the state and the\nrelation of its citizens to it shallow rationalism, and from the heights\nof their supposed knowledge they look down disdainfully upon arguments\nwhich they libellously call the laymen's babble. They are only in part\nbumptious fools who pretend that uncritical, parrotlike repetition of\ntraditional formul\u00e6 is erudition and confused thought is profundity, and\nwho declare the clear-headed men who mock their silly mysticism, their\nsuperstitious dread of word phantoms, to be simply incapable of\nunderstanding their depth. Partly they are very sly toadies, very\ncunning sycophants of power, or ruthless egoists, unscrupulous\nfreebooters, who pretend to be enthusiastic and devout apostles of the\ndivinity of the state and demand the most humble submission, adoration\nand unconditional devotion in order that, as priests in its temple, they\nmay grind their own axes at its altars.\n\nSuch are those folk who maintain the double thesis that the state is\neverything, the individual nothing, the former the sole reality, the\nlatter without any separate existence, and that the state, as mankind's\nhighest form of existence, need recognize nothing as superior to itself,\nneither right nor law, and may therefore take as sole guide for its\nactions its own interests and not Morality.\n\nYou cannot maintain a single one of these contentions unless you and all\nmen are deprived of reasoning power; they crumble away instantly in the\nlight of Reason. It is not true that the state alone is real and that it\nis superior to the individual, not only because of the forces at its\ndisposal, the complex of which it represents, but also as an entity, as\na thought, a principle. The individual alone in the species, that is,\nliving, feeling, thinking and acting man, is real. The individual\ncreated the state out of himself. He can also destroy it. The practical\npoliticians above all people should be of this opinion; as he can do\nit, he may do it; as he has the power to do it, he has the right to do\nit. The individualist will not make this a question of law, but will\nsimply assert that, though the individual is the father of the state,\nyet he has no reasonable grounds for destroying it, so long as it makes\nno murderous attacks on its creator. The individual did not create the\nstate consciously, intentionally and formally by means of a social\ncontract, but naturally and organically, under pressure of\ncircumstances. It is clearly to his interests to maintain it, to furnish\nthe necessary means for its existence and efficiency, but always on the\none condition that the state should really protect and promote the\ninterests of the individual, lighten his burdens in the struggle for\nexistence, and make that prosperity, comfort and happiness possible\nwhich he cannot secure unaided in his struggle with the hostile forces\nof Nature and with rival fellow-men.\n\nBut if the state oppresses the individual with burdens and duties which\nhe feels no inner necessity to fulfil, if it confiscates him, body and\nsoul, instead of respecting his freedom and his right to\nself-determination, then the assumption falls to the ground; the state\nis no longer an institution which benefits the individual; it is\ninimical to the individual, hinders him in his struggle for existence,\ndestroys his happiness; and he obeys his primitive instinct for\nself-preservation if he turns against it, masters it as he would a\nmonster, draws its teeth and claws, and forces it back to the place it\nwas meant to occupy, that of a docile and industrious servant of the\nindividual, not of one individual who aspires to rule the others, but of\nall individuals who are of the people that make up the state.\n\nI consider it unnecessary and a little ridiculous to quote authorities\nin support of the statement that twice two are four; what is reasonable\nand clear is convincing without further recommendation; nevertheless, it\nis a fact that may be worthy of mention that some of the best intellects\nof all nations have sided with the individual against the state. On the\none side we have Plato, whose ideal is Sparta and who would like to see\nthe despotism of this model state and its communal meals completed by\nthe addition of community of property, of wives, and of children; we\nhave Hegel, who has gone farther than any one in his idolatry of the\nstate; we have Auguste Comte, who, in his zeal for his newly founded\nscience of Sociology, conceives society as an organism biologically\nsuperior to the individual, and thereby has become the father of the\nOrganicists. But against these we can put the Englishman, Jeremy\nBentham, the embodiment of sound common sense, whom the muddle-headed\nfools that pose as deep thinkers have good reason to hate and fear, and\nwhom they try to depreciate as vulgar and shallow; further, his\ncompatriot, Herbert Spencer, who is his kindred spirit; the Frenchman,\nFr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Bastiat, whose writings sparkle with flashes of wit; the\nGerman, Wilhelm Humboldt, who bravely and successfully combated the\nstate tyranny defended by Fichte. All these are convinced individualists\nwho adduce irrefutable reasons for their views. We may also include\nKant among them, as he gave utterance to this decisive sentence: \"Man is\nhis own aim and end, and must never be a mere means\"; consequently it is\nnever permissible to sacrifice the sovereignty of one's own person to\nthat of the state, or make use of it for the realization of political\naims by disregarding, and doing violence to, one's right of\nself-determination. Harald H\u00f6fding contends that progress should be\nmeasured by the extent to which, in Kant's sense of the words, man is\nrecognized to be his own aim and end; but that is not only a measure of\nprogress, it is the measure of all civilization.\n\nFor civilization, to my idea, means a state worthy of man, implying his\nmental, moral and material independence of all motive forces other than\nthose of his own nature; its aim is the most complete attainment\npossible of this independence; its measure the extent to which the\nindividual determines his own fate and is able to ward off from it\nundesired outside influences. At the first awakening of his\nconsciousness primitive man was aware of being exposed to unknown forces\nwhich controlled him at will and against which his will was powerless.\nFrom the very beginning, at first dimly and then more and more clearly,\nman has felt this to be unworthy and intolerable. The best of the\nspecies have always laboured with all their strength to liberate\nthemselves, and the great ambition of man throughout his development has\nalways been not submissively to accept whatever fate was accorded him,\nbut to work out his destiny according to his needs and his own ideas.\n\nThe anguish caused by wretched dependence upon external forces is the\norigin of religion as of superstition, which both spring from the same\nroot. With the anthropomorphism peculiar to the earliest stages of\nthought, man personified the mysterious powers which ruled his fate. He\ncreated gods for himself, and then, as far as his knowledge permitted,\nhe sought some relation between himself and them, and tried to get at\nthem by every means available. He imagined them like unto himself, that\nis, vain, capricious, greedy, easily frightened by dark threats, and\nthen, very reasonably on this hypothesis, he importuned them with\nprayers, sacrifices, hymns of praise and vows, as well as magic formul\u00e6\nand incantations, always with the inflexible intention of making them\nserve his purposes, not of serving theirs. The contrite Jewish prayer:\n\"Thy will be done, Lord, Thy will, not mine,\" is a new trait in the\nreligious thought of man. The heathen always strives to have his will\ndone in opposition to that of the gods, and to divert them from their\ndecisions if he dislikes them.\n\nIn a state of advanced development theological thought gave way before\nthe scientific. Man learnt to conceive Nature's rule, not\ntranscendentally, but intrinsically. He recognized that the forces\naround him, which so often crossed his purpose, are not to be influenced\nby prayer and sacrifice, but that it is expedient and possible to\ndiscover their character and the conditions of their activity. By dint\nof long-sustained efforts he has succeeded in effectively standing up to\nhostile Nature and in warding off her undesired interference in his\ndestiny. If the tribulations, which formerly suddenly brought his\nschemes to nought and often destroyed him, are not entirely overcome, it\nis merely because his practice does not conform closely enough to the\ndirections evolved by his theoretical knowledge, because he is too\ncareless or too clumsy to make proper use of the weapons against the\nelements with which science has armed him.\n\nBut this same man, who has learnt to be a match for Nature, his creator,\nis powerless against his creature, the state. He can neither evade it\nnor escape from it. The state disposes of him without his consent,\nagainst his most obvious interests, in spite of his powerless\nopposition; it hurls him hither and thither, annihilates him, crushes\nhim by its will and is unmoved by the will of the individual.\n\nTrue, man has sought to maintain his right of self-determination against\nthe forces of politics, as against all others that broke his will and\nintervened in his life without his consent. For thousands of years all\nstate development has tried to protect the modest individual, lost in\nthe crowd and featureless, but nevertheless a person, that is, a world\nto himself, against the arbitrariness of rulers or leading statesmen.\nThat is the one unchanging tendency which leads from Harmodius and\nAristogeiton, the slayers of a tyrant, the rebellion of the elder\nBrutus, the murder of C\u00e6sar, by way of the Revolt of the Netherlands and\nthe execution of Charles I of England, to the great Revolution, the\nrisings of 1848 and the struggle for constitutional government in all\nstates of the Old World and the New. The formula has long been\ndiscovered whereby the individual can maintain the dignity of his\nsovereign personality and his own responsibility for the shaping of his\ndestiny. It is civil freedom, constitutionalism, sovereignty of the\npeople. There are arrangements, carefully thought out, nicely weighed,\ncleverly worked out to the smallest detail, by which the individual is\nfitted into his place in the community without being deprived of the\nmanagement of his own affairs, by which the sacrifices needful for the\nfulfilment of collective tasks are exacted without his being reduced to\na condition of slavery, by which the independence of the individual is\nsafeguarded and yet a state of chaos and anarchy is avoided.\n\nBut this formula fares as do the doctrines of science: hitherto it has\nremained a theory everywhere. The franchise, representation of the\npeople, responsibility of ministers, constitutional limitation of the\nruler's power, are infallibly effective weapons or instruments, but no\npeople has yet learnt how to handle them rightly. That is why pessimists\nspeak of the bankruptcy of civilization, that is why the aim of\ncivilization, the liberation of the person and the enforcement of its\nsovereignty, has nowhere been attained, that is why, to quote Napoleon I\nin his interview with Goethe at Erfurt, \"In our times the power of fate\nis politics.\" And yet all these institutions of a modern constitutional\nstate, from the ballot-paper and the voting of taxes in Parliament to\nthe enforced resignation of the ministry on a vote of censure and the\noath of the ruler to observe the constitution, recognize the rights of\nthe individual as opposed to the state, and at least theoretically give\nthe lie to the bold declaration that the state is everything and the\nindividual nothing.\n\nIt is no less untrue to say that the state is superior to Morality and\nis not bound by it. In order to prove this we need only be brave enough\nnot to be intimidated by the mysterious mien and gestures and the dark,\npompous phrases of the mystics who worship the state, and to penetrate\nto the real, conceptual idea of the word.\n\nThe hocus pocus that the worshippers of the state perform around their\nidol puts one in mind of Kempelen, who created a sensation with his\nautomaton in the beginning of the nineteenth century. This figure, got\nup as a Turkish woman, gave rise to astonishment and, among not a few,\nto superstitious fear. It played chess, and so well, too, that it almost\nalways succeeded in winning, even against its most skilled opponents.\nPeople cudgelled their brains to solve the riddle, all sorts of\nexplanations were suggested, one more impossible than the other, but\nstill the mystery remained dark, until the owner, having made enough\nmoney and sick of the part of an itinerant swindler, revealed the trick.\nIn the hollow figure there sat a clever chess player who worked its\nhands and with them carried out the moves on the board.\n\nThis anecdote can be applied literally to the state. Simpletons, drunk\nwith phrases, and cunning cheats contend that the state is a\nsupernatural creation in which the \"spirit of the universe,\" the \"spirit\nof history\" takes shape, and through which it realizes its aims; these\naims, utterly transcending the understanding of the individual, are\nunintelligible to man. Such overwhelming phrases strike the simple,\ncredulous hearer dumb and send cold shudders of awe up his spine. But\nlet us look at the inside of this magic machine whose works are driven\nby the \"spirit of the world\" and with whose help this spirit fulfils its\nimpenetrable designs. What do we find? Men, quite ordinary mortals, who\nsit in the machine and work its levers; men whose intellectual powers\nare only in rare cases superior to those of their enslaved subjects\nbereft of will; men who are, as a rule, of average intelligence and not\nseldom even below the average.\n\nThese men are the rulers, ministers who cling to office, high officials,\nparty leaders and professional politicians who would like to become\nministers, generals who seek to make themselves conspicuous, publicists\nwho hope to derive personal profit by dint of bowing and scraping before\nthe men in power, by flattering the stupidest and most despicable\nprejudices of the masses, or even by implanting such prejudices with\npersuasive talk and purposely leading them astray. These men are formed\non the same model as all individuals of the species and are therefore\nfull of human weaknesses, a prey to all human desires, moved by all\nhuman impulses. They are selfish, vain, the sport of likes and dislikes,\nof self-deception as to the value of their ideas, opinions and\njudgments, disputatious, arrogant, greedy of possessions, power and\npleasure, spurred by the instinct to magnify and swell their personality\nand impose it upon others. And these men are to be liberated from the\ndiscipline of the moral law? They are to be superior to the moral law?\n\nFor whom, then, was the moral law created and developed if not for these\nmen--whose actions, although they spring from the same motives and\naspire to the same satisfaction of self as those of all other men, can\nbe fraught with consequences incomparably more evil, because they make\nuse of the state machine for their purposes. Through the force and\nmomentum given by the machinery of the state these actions are\nboundlessly augmented, their range being indefinitely increased and\ntheir results multiplied a thousandfold. The simplest logic shows that\nthese men within the state machine, rendered so specially dangerous by\ntheir terrible armament and weapons, far from being liberated from the\ncoercion of moral law, ought to be subjected to it with extraordinary\nseverity, a severity which should be greater than that which suffices\nfor the average man, in proportion as their power to do harm is greater\nthan that of the man in the street.\n\nNow all this time, rather carelessly, or at any rate weakly, I am making\na concession to the pious devotees of the religion of the state, by\nspeaking of the state machine,--a dubious expression, coined to deceive\nby rousing superstitious ideas. The phrase is a picture, a rhetorical\nfigure that one must be careful not to take literally. There is no state\nmachine. There is only a relation of men to one another and to\ntraditional habits, organized rules of command, obedience and equable\nconduct--habits into which the community of men has fallen in accordance\nwith the law of least resistance, in order to promote their own\ninterests, at least theoretically, without being forced to exert\nthemselves continually to form new judgments, decisions and\narrangements which the ever-shifting, ever-changing conditions of life\nrender necessary.\n\nHere again, behind the word, we find men, always only men. Just as those\nwho command, from whose will all state action emanates, are men, so also\nthe instruments by which they carry out their decisions are only\nmetaphorically speaking, levers and wheels, parts of a machine of steel\nand iron; in reality they are officials, soldiers and policemen, they\nare judges and bailiffs; in short, they are men. And these men, who in\nall private relations with their fellow men are sternly required to\nsubmit to the dictates of Morality and the demands of the Law, are the\nsame on whom other men, the leaders of the state, impose the duty of\nbreaking all these precepts and laws; as ambassadors they must deny and\ndishonour the signatures to treaties; as leaders or paid servants of the\npress bureau they must systematically spread lies; as attorneys of the\nstate they must persecute and maltreat those who tell the truth; as\npolicemen they must tear the fathers of families from wife and children\nand hunt them into the barracks; as soldiers they must invade a foreign\nland, murder unknown and innocent men, rob them of their property, burn\ndown their houses, lay waste their lands, in a word, do everything that\nis punishable with prison and gallows; they must perpetrate all crimes\nwhich the aim and end of Morality and Law are to prevent and condemn. If\none defends such action, where can one find the courage and the\njustification to require these men at one time to honour the Ten\nCommandments and at another to disregard them, to be criminals in the\nname of the state in the morning and to be moral private persons and\nlaw-abiding citizens in the afternoon? After all, they only have one\nnature, one mind, one character and one set of perceptive faculties.\n\nTo realize the monstrosity of this doctrine of twofold Morality, public\nand private, and of the non-compulsoriness of moral law for the state,\nit suffices to refer again to the fundamental concepts of Morality.\nIndividuals have banded themselves together in a community in order to\nbe able to live more easily, or to live at all, under the present\nconditions obtaining on our planet. Lest society should be disintegrated\nby the quarrels of its members, and the latter should find themselves\nexposed single-handed to a hopeless struggle for existence, a limitation\nof their unfettered whims and desires, the curbing of their selfishness,\ncontrol of their impulses and the exercise of consideration for their\nneighbours have been imposed upon them.\n\nThis coercion is Morality, and society can enforce it by vigorous\nmeasures; but for the most part this is unnecessary, for society has\ninculcated in its members the faculty of urging upon themselves in every\nsituation the dictates of the community and of insisting on obedience to\nthem. This faculty is conscience. The means by which conscience,\ninspired and assisted by reason, determines the will to keep in check or\nto suppress organic impulses and inclinations, desires and appetites, is\ninhibition; moreover, the development and strengthening of inhibition\ndoes not alone promote the aims of the community, but is of the highest\nbiological importance to the individual himself, apart from his\nrelations to society, as it renders him stronger and more efficient,\ndifferentiates him more subtly, and raises him to a higher level of\ndevelopment.\n\nNow the state is a special development of society; it owes its existence\nto the same necessities as the latter, its task is to minimize the\nstruggle for existence for the individual, to protect him from avoidable\ndangers and to ensure the safety of his life, the fruits of his labour\nand that measure of freedom which is compatible with life in a\ncommunity. But if the state puts an end to the coercion instituted by\nthe community and therefore by the state itself; if it does away with\nMorality for itself, that is, for a number of individuals, be they few\nor many, that act in its name; if it allows selfishness, appetites and\nruthlessness to have the same free play as with creatures of a lower\norder than man, or as with men before they formed themselves into\ncommunities; if in the pursuit of its plans beyond the bounds of\nMorality it intensifies the struggle for existence in a tragic manner,\nexposes men to the most terrible dangers, brutally destroys their\nliberty, gravely threatens their life and property or even devotes them\nto ruin--why, then it destroys the assumptions on which the state itself\nis based, denies its own aim, deprives itself of any right to existence,\nand the individuals have thenceforward but one interest, namely, to\ndrive away this bogey of the state and with all possible means to force\nthe men, who make use of it and the superstitions clinging to it, to\nrespect the moral law which the community has created to overwhelm\nanti-social, immoral individuals, to render them harmless and if\nnecessary to destroy them.\n\nOne point there is on which the Machiavellian or practical politicians\nare particularly fond of talking nonsense, and that is the state's\nloyalty to treaties. Is the state bound by a treaty? Must it honour its\nsignature? Must it perform what it has undertaken to do? The detestable,\nunanimous answer is \"No. A treaty cannot hinder the state from doing\nwhat its interest demands.\" Prince Bismarck is often cited on this\npoint, as he once said: \"The only sound foundation for the state is\nstate egoism.\" And another time: \"A treaty is only valid _rebus sic\nstantibus_, if the situation is the same as when it was concluded; if\nthe circumstances change, it becomes invalid by the very fact.\" Such\nviews are revolting, however great a name be appended to them. Contract,\nor treaty, is the basis of the law. Whoever breaks it is dishonoured,\nand doubly dishonoured is he who from the beginning enters upon it with\nthe idea at the back of his mind of deriving every possible advantage\nfrom it and of breaking it when the time comes to fulfil obligations.\n\nThe phrase, \"sound egoism,\" whether it refer to a private person or to\nthe state, must make every decent man blush for shame. Egoism may be\nsound, but it is always the contrary of moral. It is just as convenient\nfor the individual as for the state to think only of his own advantage\nand unhesitatingly to sacrifice his neighbour's rights to it; but\nMorality arose and was constituted a rule of human relations in order\nto break the back of this selfishness and to teach man consideration for\nhis neighbour. It is no valid excuse to say that state egoism is no sin,\nbut a virtue and a merit, that it is different in character from the\negoism of the individual. That is not true. It is not different in\ncharacter. It is of exactly the same character as in private life. The\nresponsible leader of the state who is guilty of a breach of treaty\nmakes believe to himself and others that he does not do it for his own\nsake, but in the interests of the state. But who is the state? I have\nalready given the answer to this. The state consists of men, the\ninterests served by a breach of treaty are those of men, not, as a rule,\nof all, not even of many members of the state, but of a few, of a class,\na group, perhaps of only one family whose power, wealth and reputation\nit is intended to increase. So-called state egoism is in actual fact the\nprivate egoism of many individuals, who break the law, or tolerate and\ncondone a breach of the law, for the sake of pocketing ill-gotten gains;\nand no one is so stupid as to let himself be bamboozled into believing\nthat the shameful crime of breaking a treaty for the purpose of \"sound\"\negoistic grabbing becomes moral when it is perpetrated not by one\nindividual but by thousands or millions of individuals.\n\nThe _reservatio mentalis_, too, of \"_rebus sic stantibus_\" is an\nunwarrantable and wicked reservation. Nothing prevents a decent man when\nmaking a contract from adding a clause reserving the right to terminate\nit if the essential conditions should change. If the other party to the\ncontract does not agree to this, well, then the contract cannot be\nconcluded. But to sign it with the mental reservation that one will\ndisavow one's signature if the obligations undertaken become irksome,\nthat is swindling. There is one consideration so simple that it is\ninconceivable that those who break contracts do not realize it. In some\nconcrete case the leader of the state judges it to be profitable to the\nstate to disregard good faith. What guarantee has he that his judgment\nis right? He is a man, and no man is infallible. But all mankind have\nmade good faith the foundation of their life in communities, and if a\nsingle man has the temerity to draw a conclusion violating the immutable\nconvictions and doctrines of all mankind, he must be mad not to see that\nmost probably he is wrong and that all mankind in every age and every\nclime is right. I have left out of consideration the fact that any\npossible advantage arising from the breach of faith would not excuse him\nmorally, and setting aside the ethical aspect of the case, I dwell only\non the logical argument.\n\nThere is one case and one only in which a contract is not binding,\neither on the state or on the private individual, and that is when the\nsignatory was forced to enter upon it with a knife at his throat.\nObligations which a victor imposes on his defeated and disarmed opponent\nare by their very nature invalid. The old cry of Brennus: \"_Vae\nvictis!_\" is might and cannot constitute a right. Civil law calls this\nkind of thing compulsion and decrees that it invalidates any contract.\nOnly a pedantic mind, stupid and depraved, immersed in hair-splitting\ntrickery and incapable of a straight thought, could complacently\nmaintain in the face of all common sense that might and compulsion, far\nfrom doing away with right, are the source of all right. The silly\nformula coined for this is: \"Might is right.\" Might may be a fact, but\nit is not right. The source of right is not might but Morality, which\nmight disavows and destroys. The necessary condition of any obligation\nwhich is to be valid is freedom. Kant proved this, but his proof was\nunnecessary, for it is self-evident. A forced treaty is no treaty, for\nit is the victor's fist which has guided the hand of the vanquished, and\nit is he who wrote the latter's signature under the document. The will,\nthe consciousness of the seeming signatory were absent at the time.\n\nBut the worst and most immoral action of the state, beside which a\nbreach of treaty for selfish reasons pales to insignificance, is the war\nof aggression for purposes of profit, that is, for the conquest of\nterritory, extortion of money, increase of power, or fame. War is the\nquintessence of all crimes against life and property, against the body\nand mind of a person, the prevention of which is the aim and object of\nall Morality and all laws derived from it. Any means are permissible\nwhereby this wickedness may be prevented; the war of defence, waged by\nthe party attacked, is not only justified but sacred, as are the\nfunctions of the institutions that society has developed to hunt down\nand punish those who do not respect Morality and Law. And just as it is\nthe duty of every society to maintain courts of justice, police and\nprisons, so it is the duty of every state to be well armed, well versed\nin the use of weapons and strong, so long as it must count on the fact\nthat there are practical politicians who do not recognize Morality as\nbinding the state, and nations that are ready on the first hint of their\nleaders to perpetrate every crime that conscience, the Ten Commandments\nand penal law forbid.\n\nIt is idle, in my opinion, to discuss the question whether war will ever\ndisappear from the world. It serves no purpose to contradict those who\ndeclare it to be eternal. It is possible that it will continue to exist\nas long as there is vice, sin and crime; and I do not believe that these\nwill ever be completely exterminated. Among mankind there will probably\nnever be a lack of sick and depraved people whose selfishness is\nmonstrously exaggerated, whose instincts urge them with stormy violence,\nwhose powers of inhibition are scantily developed or altogether wanting,\nwho suffer from an\u00e6sthesia of the feelings and are therefore incapable\nof any sympathy with their fellow men and who are mentally too weak to\nforesee the results of their actions. Individuals of this kind are born\ncriminals whose existence society will probably never be able to prevent\nand against whom it is obliged to protect itself. Now war arises from\nthe same psychic conditions as the antisocial actions of these born\ncriminals, and therefore the pessimists may be right in maintaining that\nit can never be abolished. But it is one thing to assert the existence\nof a deplorable fact and quite another to glorify it. To say that war is\na part of the universe constituted by God is blasphemy, even though the\nsaying emanates from Moltke. To extol war ecstatically and to sing hymns\nof praise to it, to declare that it evokes the highest virtues of man is\na panegyric of crime, a thing anticipated and punishable in the penal\ncode.\n\nI am not here attempting to solve the problem of what practical measures\ncan be taken whereby right may be set in the place of might in\ninter-state relations, and instead of ruthless selfishness, Morality,\nthat is, self-control, consideration and respect for the just claims of\none's fellow men and love of one's neighbour. That is as far beyond the\nscope of this work as is the investigation of the methods of education,\ncriminal justice, police organization or prison conditions intended to\ndeal with the tide of crime and to stem it as far as possible. I am\nconcerned with moral philosophy, and from that point of view I show that\nall Morality is rooted in the desire of men to live together peaceably\nin a society, to have greater security of life and property, greater\npossibilities of happiness, and that the same needs must impose the\nrules of Morality upon states in their relations to one another.\nAccording to Hobbes the primitive condition of mankind is that of a war\nof every man against all other men, and only the creation of society\nmakes an end of it. But if the state unleashes the dogs of aggressive\nwarfare it hurls mankind back into its primitive condition and destroys\nthe work it was created to do. The Stoic Seneca says: \"_Homo sacra res\nhomini_,\" \"Man is sacred to man.\" The practical politicians who praise\nwar repeat with Hobbes: \"_Homo homini lupus_,\" \"Man is a wolf to man.\"\nThe moral man demands a return from Hobbes to Seneca. If it has been\npossible in the state to tame the wolfish instincts of the individual\nand to make him bow down before Custom and Law, it must be equally\npossible to do so in the relations of states to one another. He who\ndenies this in principle disavows Morality altogether, not only for the\nstate but also for the individual; he who admits it in principle but in\npractice scornfully disregards it is a bandit, and it is desirable to\ntreat him like any other robber and murderer who, to satisfy his wolfish\nappetites, tramples on Morality and Right and acts like a wild beast.\n\nTo this, however, the Moralist will object sadly, and the practical\npolitician with scornful superiority, that the state has created\ninstitutions for suppressing the bandit, but that there are none such to\ncontrol bandit states, and that self-defence alone, the only means of\nself-protection for man in Hobbes's primitive condition, can gain a\nfooting between them. Clearly only the party attacked is in a state of\nself-defence, but the bandit who has a sufficient sense of humour to\nplay the pettifogging lawyer can always maintain that attack is also\nself-defence, the preventive form of self-defence. The answer to this\nis: if society has managed to provide judges and police in order to\nsecure peace, then mankind will for the same purpose learn how to\nprovide courts of justice and a police force to deal with the bandits of\npractical politics who endanger peace among nations. But that is a\npractical question, not a theoretical one, not a principle of moral\nphilosophy. The latter shows irrefutably that there is only one\nMorality, not a private one and a public one which is its negation, not\none kind for the individual and another for politics, for the state.\n\nHe who defends the thesis of a twofold Morality merely shows that he\ndoes not possess simple Morality.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nFREEDOM AND RESPONSIBILITY\n\n\nTheological thought is faced with a problem in ethics which presents the\ngreatest difficulties. It is the problem of Free Will.\n\nIs man who perceives, judges, has volition and acts, a free being\ninwardly? Can he, guided only by his own reasonable thoughts and\nconclusions, determined entirely by his own inner impulses and\nuninfluenced by outer circumstances, choose one or the other of two\nconflicting possibilities? When he has to make a decision, is he always\nlike Hercules at the cross-roads who has to make up his mind alone as to\nwhich path he shall take, whether he is to follow quiet, modest virtue,\nor alluring, voluptuous vice? Does he do evil because he willed to do so\nand not otherwise, although it was in his power to avoid it? Does he\ndecide for the good, because after due investigation and consideration\nhe recognized it as preferable, though he might have rejected it? Or is\nman always subject to coercion from which at no time and no place he can\nescape? Are all his actions determined by the law of Nature which\nregulates every one of his movements just as mechanically as the course\nof the stars or the fall of a body to our earth when its support is\nremoved? Is he an automaton, set going by cosmic forces, who possesses\nthe doubtful privilege consciously to be able to follow the turning of\nhis wheels, the action of his levers, rods and indicators and to listen\nto their humming and knocking without being allowed to interfere in\ntheir movements or to change the least thing in their functions or work?\nIs he fettered by the chain of causes which have existed eternally and\ncontinue to act immutably to all eternity?\n\nTheological thought is condemned to find an answer to the question of\nfreedom or determinism, as it is the necessary condition for the\nessential concepts of the theological doctrine of Morality, that is, the\nconcept of responsibility and those consequent upon this, namely, sin,\nreward and punishment. For the true believer God is the source of\nMorality. He Himself is Morality. What He ordains is good in itself and\ncannot be otherwise, for there is no room for evil in His nature, since\nif He could be conceived to do evil, it would by the very fact of His\ndoing it become good. A man, to be moral, must approximate to the nature\nof God as nearly as it is granted to mortals to do. The moral law is\nrevealed by God's mercy to give man a light which shows him the right\npath and lights him on his way. Thanks to Him the poor mortal is\nrelieved of the incertitude due to his limited mental powers and is\nendowed with the priceless possession of a certain precept which he need\nonly obey in order to be sure of salvation.\n\nHowever, granted the correctness of this assumption, it is not\ncomprehensible how evil came into the world. It contradicts all\nattributes with which faith has endowed the deity. It cannot appear\nwithout God's knowledge, for He is omniscient and nothing is hidden\nfrom Him. It cannot occur against His will, for He is omnipotent and\nnothing resists His bidding. But least of all can it rage with His\nknowledge and consent, for He is infinitely good and therefore does not\npermit his creatures to fall victims to evil. But experience teaches us\nthat evil has a permanent place in human life, and this forces one to\nthe conclusion that either God is hard and cruel, and therefore not\ninfinitely good and not Morality itself, or that He has no knowledge of\nevil and therefore is not omniscient, but, on the contrary, blind as\nwell as stupid, or that He sees the evil but cannot prevent it, and\ntherefore is not omnipotent and must recognize the existence of higher\npowers than Himself against whom He is impotent.\n\nThese terrifying conclusions have not escaped the notice of the devout,\nand they have always made the most desperate efforts to evade them. Some\nhave chosen the easiest way out of the difficulty; they close their eyes\nbefore the yawning abyss, fold their hands devoutly and invent pious\nphrases about the inscrutable ways of Providence and its infinite\nwisdom, which the weak intelligence of mortals cannot grasp. Others take\ninfinite pains; in the sweat of their brow they with difficulty evolve\ntortuous and hypocritical explanations, which in reality explain\nnothing, but in a mind which lends itself willingly to them give rise to\nthe illusion that the contradiction has been solved. Perhaps the most\nastounding piece of work accomplished by this miserable juggling, or\nthis delusion of self by means of an exuberant flow of words, is\npresented in the four volumes of the \"Th\u00e9odic\u00e9e,\" by which Leibnitz\nmade himself a laughing-stock. Mazdeism has invented an alluring but at\nthe same time risky expedient. It lightly assumes that two principles\nobtain in the universe, a good one and a bad one, the creator and the\ndestroyer, the merciful God and the cruel demon, Ormuzd and Ahriman. In\nthis way everything is easy to understand. Good is the work of radiant\nOrmuzd, evil the deed of dark Ahriman. The two fight together with very\nnearly equal forces, but this doctrine reveals the comforting prospect\nof a distant future in which Ormuzd shall finally triumph over Ahriman,\nand fills the trembling believer with elation at the thought that after\n\u00e6ons of the tragic struggle between good and evil, at the end of the\nworld the curtain will fall on the victory of good. By this victory\nMazdeism, which claims to be monotheistic, rescues its single god,\nalthough the introduction of a second principle of very nearly equal\npower, which holds the one god in check for an immeasurable period of\ntime, brings this system perilously close to polytheism.\n\nTo the purer monotheism of Christianity there is indeed something\nrepugnant in the assumption of a second, opposite principle of almost\nequal power, but yet it has admitted the existence of the devil, who is\nundoubtedly reminiscent of Ahriman. Only he lacks the independence of\nthe Mazdean demon. He is not on a footing of equality with God, but is\nsubject to Him as is every creature. He is not strong enough to oppose\nGod and can only do evil because God allows it. But why does He allow\nit? Why does He tolerate the devil? Why can the latter proceed with his\nevil work with God's consent? To this theology gives a crafty answer\nwhich Goethe has clothed in the glorious beauty of inimitable poetry.\nGod has assigned to the devil the task of tempting man with all the arts\nof seduction in order to give him the opportunity of testing and\ndeveloping his moral strength in resistance, of purging himself, of\nattaining purity and salvation by his own efforts. In short, he exists\nin order to give man a sort of Swedish gymnastics in virtue. The\nstruggle is not quite fair, for the devil is held by a halter and is\npulled up if he gets too big an advantage, and man is always assisted by\nredeeming mercy, a hand being stretched out to him from the clouds which\nsets him on his feet as often as he stumbles. But theology is not bound\nby rules of sport. That is how the picture of the universe is presented\nin \"_Faust_.\" But he who painted it is the same Goethe who on another\noccasion angrily complains: \"You allow man to become guilty--and then\nleave him to his suffering.\" Does the divinity allow man to fall a\nvictim to evil without turning it aside from him? Does he only try him\nin order mercifully to rescue him at the moment when he is about to\nsuccumb? Goethe does not answer this question without ambiguity. That is\nnot his business either. He may contradict himself. He is a poet who is\nallowed to express contradictory views. He is not a theologian whose\nduty it is, by means of a definite dogma, to support those who totter in\ndoubt.\n\nAll these attempts to reconcile the attributes of the deity with the\nfact that there is evil in the world which continually leads man into\ndanger, emanate from the explicit or tacit assumption that man possesses\nFree Will. For if his will is not free and he does evil, then he does it\nbecause he must and because he cannot do otherwise. But this must can\nonly come from the deity who is almighty; it is the deity who condemns\nman, who forces him to do evil. Man therefore does evil as God's tool\nwithout volition; therefore, as a matter of fact, it is God Himself who\ndoes evil. But if God is capable of doing evil He is not Morality\nitself, or every distinction between good and evil is destroyed, and we\nmust recognize what seems evil to us to be just as moral as what seems\ngood, because the one is as much the work of God as the other. But if\nthis is admitted, and it is logically impossible not to admit it, then\nthe whole foundation of transcendental, that is, of theological, ethics\nbreaks down. The latter is therefore forced, on pain of suicide, to\nmaintain that man has Free Will.\n\nBut with this assertion theological ethics by no means disarms all the\nobjections which threaten its life. Renouvier's book on Free Will is\nprobably the most thorough and exhaustive work on this subject which has\nbeen treated by thousands of thinkers and not a few babblers since the\ntime of the ancient Greeks, and he describes it as follows: \"Will is\nfree and spontaneous if Reason cannot foretell its untrammelled action\nat any time other than that at which it actually takes place.\" Renouvier\nmakes no limitation and no reservation. He does not say, \"if human\nreason cannot foretell its action,\" and this omission of the\nparticularizing adjective is not carelessness or a mistake on his part,\nit is duly considered; for the prudent dialectician knows very well that\nhe would ruin his theory of Free Will if he only maintained that human\nreason alone should be able to foretell its action. There are many\nhappenings which human reason cannot foretell, and which nevertheless\nobey immutable laws and take place according to absolutely fixed rules\nwithout the exercise of any inner freedom or authority on the part of\nthe individual. If human reason cannot foretell these happenings, it is\nnot because no external force of the universe determines them and they\nare entirely spontaneous, but simply because the laws controlling them\nare unknown. Therefore the impossibility of foretelling them is no proof\nof their freedom, it is only a proof of the ignorance of the human mind.\nThere was a time when no human intellect could foretell the occurrence\nof a solar or lunar eclipse. Was that because the heavenly bodies act\nfreely and are eclipsed only at their own spontaneous desire, when and\nhow they please? No, because man had not discovered and comprehended\ntheir movements. To this very day we are unable to foretell the weather\non a particular day next year, or the result of the next harvest, or an\nearthquake. Does this prove the freedom, the absolute independence of\nthese occurrences? No; it only proves the inadequacy of our knowledge.\nRenouvier therefore would achieve nothing for his theory of Free Will,\nif only human understanding were to be unable to foretell the actions of\nthe Will. That is why he does not say \"human reason,\" but simply\n\"Reason.\" The essence of Free Will is that its actions altogether shall\nbe incapable of being foreseen; it is not in its nature to act in\naccordance with some predetermination which must necessarily reckon with\nouter circumstances and given forces; and the impossibility of\nforetelling its actions exists not only for human Reason but for every\nReason--for Reason in general.\n\nFor every Reason and therefore for the divine Reason as well. And now\ntheological ethics must find a way out of this dilemma: either God does\nnot foresee the decisions of free human Will, then this is a denial of\nhis omniscience, that is, of one of His essential attributes; or God\nforesees the decisions of free human Will, then this is a denial of the\nFreedom of the Will, the essence of which, according to Renouvier, lies\nin the fact that it cannot be foreseen. For this impossibility of being\nforeseen is indeed the quality by which Free Will stands or falls. Let\nus realize the significance of this concept. Nothing can be foreseen\nwhich will not with certainty occur. But whatever at some future time\nwill become a reality, must even now be virtually a reality for an\nomniscient Reason not bound by the human categories of time and space,\nsince for this Reason neither proximity nor distance exists, but\neverything is on one plane, and there is no future or past, but\neverything is present. So if the divine Reason foresees now how the free\nWill of man will act in the future, that is equivalent to saying that\nthis free Will is forced to act in the particular way which God foresees\nand not otherwise. Therefore the Will is not free but, on the contrary,\nstrictly bound. It is obliged to make the event foreseen by God a fact,\nas God can only foresee what must certainly come to pass, and a foreseen\nevent that does not happen would mean a mistake, a false assumption, of\nwhich one cannot believe God capable without denying Him. This apparent\nfree Will is coercion at sight. As its action is foreseen by God, the\nWill is subject to the law of fate, but a period of delay is granted.\nEvery movement of the supposedly free Will becomes a part of the order\nof the universe which has been unalterably laid down from eternity, and\nwhich the human Will cannot upset without burying God in the ruins. Man\nmay imagine that his Will is free. But that is self-deception, and he\ncan only indulge in it because what God sees clearly is hidden from him,\nnamely, the goal towards which, though he does not realize it, he is\ninevitably led along strictly defined paths by the iron hand of fate.\n\nIt would be unjust towards theology to say that it has never seen the\nincompatibility of Free Will with divine omniscience. This has not\nescaped its notice, but it has attempted by the use of familiar formul\u00e6\nto get out of the difficulty. In his book _De libero Arbitrio_ Saint\nAugustine stoutly maintains that the human Will is free, but he tries to\nrescue the attributes of the deity by reserving to it the right or the\npower to intervene by its mercy in the actions of the Will, if in its\nfreedom it comes to a decision which endangers the salvation of the\nsoul. Saint Thomas Aquinas takes good care not to differ in opinion from\nthe Bishop of Hippo. The reformers, Calvin, Luther and Bishop Jansen,\ntoo, were better logicians than the patristic writers, and\nunhesitatingly denied the freedom of the Will, but they did not notice\nthat they made God responsible for all the misdeeds of man, lacking\nfreedom and acting with God's foreknowledge and at His behest. The\nCouncil of Trent scorned all these contradictions and unintelligible\npoints, and declared with infallible authority that man's Will is free\nand that at the same time God is omniscient. The Catholic Church at the\ntime was in some countries still in a position to meet Reason, if it\nraised objections, with an unanswerable argument: the stake.\n\nThat is the peculiarity of theological as distinguished from scientific\nthought, the purest form of which is mathematics. The former never\nfollows a train of thought to its strictly logical conclusion, but only\nfollows a certain distance, to a point where it loses itself in an\nimpenetrable black fog, or in a cloud of glory which dazzles the\nbeholder. Mathematical thought, on the contrary, develops the train of\nthought to the bitter end, to its ultimate conclusions. These are\nnecessarily absurd if the premises are erroneous, and their absurdity is\nso clear that it convincingly proves the mistake in the point of\ndeparture. Such a scrupulous confutation of self is to be expected as\nlittle from mystic visions as from arrogant dogmatism. The former obey\nthe laws of dreams, in which the association of ideas, unfettered by\nlogic, holds sway and strings together the most incompatible ideas to\nform an apparently connected series; the latter demands the privilege of\nbeing independent of the judgment of Reason, and of being tried by\nFaith, a judge who always decides in its favour.\n\nThose who believe in Free Will adduce a proof of it which they derive by\nthe method of introspection. Man, they say, will never be convinced that\nhe is not free, that his actions are not determined by his own will\nalone, for he has the incontrovertible consciousness of the contrary. He\nis quite clear on the point that he does a thing because it is his will\nto do so, that he had the choice of doing it or not, that he does what\nhe wants, that he comes to his decision owing to considerations,\ninclinations, moods or intentions which are perfectly known to him, if\nto him only. At the Sorbonne in Paris they still remember the\nprofessor--when the anecdote was told me Victor Cousin was named as the\nhero, but I cannot guarantee that it was he and no other--who used to\nsay in his lecture on Free Will: \"Man's will is free. There is no need\nto prove this by giving reasons. We feel it immediately as a truth. I\nwill show you. I will raise my right arm. I raise it\"--here he raised\nhis right arm with a commanding gesture, kept it for a short time in\nthis position, and added triumphantly: \"You see that my will is free.\"\nHis hearers broke into enthusiastic applause at this triumphant\ndemonstration. To-day they would receive it with loud laughter.\n\nWe have learnt to seek the roots of most, perhaps of all, human actions\nin the subconsciousness. There they are worked out under influences\nwhich cannot be perceived by introspection and in which inborn and\nacquired inclinations, experiences, organic conditions at the time,\ninstincts, attractions and repulsions play a decisive part. They rise\nready made into consciousness, and the latter, not having seen them\nbeing formed, persuades itself that it has produced them spontaneously,\nand imagines reasons why it willed to do actions that were determined\noutside its sphere. The professor who authoritatively states, \"I wish to\nraise my right arm and therefore I do it,\" certainly says this in all\ngood faith, but equally certainly he is ignorant. He is not aware of the\nplay of forces which end in his gesture. He raises his right arm, which\nhe believes he chooses with complete freedom, because he is in the habit\nof using his right arm by preference; if he had been left-handed he\nwould have announced his wish to raise his left arm, and would have been\nequally convinced that he had decided, with complete freedom, for his\nleft arm. If he suffered from chronic muscular rheumatism in one of his\narms, so that it would trouble him or hurt him to move it, he would\nunconsciously choose the other, sound arm, and maintain just as\npositively that he had done so with complete freedom. I have mentioned\nas instances two particularly crude and therefore very obvious reasons\nwhich may determine the action of this simple-minded professor without\nhis being aware of it. But each one of our more complicated, and even of\nour simplest, movements is the outcome of numberless subtle causes which\nare partly due to the organized experiences and habits of our individual\nlife, partly a necessary consequence of our inherited qualities, our\nbodily and intellectual constitution, and their origin goes back to the\nfar distant past of our species, to the beginnings of life, we may even\nsay to eternity. Our consciousness can tell nothing of these causes.\nThey elude our observation and investigation and remain ever unknown to\nus. Renouvier is quite right when he says no understanding--and I say\nwithout his ambiguity no human understanding of the present time--can\nforetell the actions of another, nor indeed his own, but not because\nthey come to pass independently of inevitable causes, but simply because\nthese causes cannot be descried by our ignorance.\n\nIt is vain labour to try and derive the solution of the question of\nFree Will, or even a contribution towards it, from introspection.\nIt is a method unsuitable for this purpose. The Greek sage well knew\nwhat a great and difficult task he set man when he admonished him:\n\"[Greek: gn\u00f4thi seauton].\" That is easy to say but difficult if not\nimpossible to do. Spinoza very happily characterized the self-deception\nin which the individual is plunged with regard to the part played in\ndetermining his actions by his conscious Will aided by Reason; he says\nthat if a stone, flung by some hand, had consciousness, it would imagine\nit was flying of its own free will; and in another place he points out\nwithout any illustrative metaphor, that a drunk man and a child, who\ncertainly do not act on their own initiative, also believe in the\nfreedom of their will. It has been possible to prove experimentally how\nignorant of the real motives of his actions the individual may be. It is\nsuggested to a person who has been hypnotized that on awakening he is to\ncarry out a certain action, something particularly absurd, unjustified\nand aimless being intentionally chosen. The subject of the experiment\non awaking faithfully carries out the suggestion, and as he has no\nmemory of what happened while he was in the hypnotic state, he is\nconvinced that he is yielding to a sudden idea, a whim, but that in any\ncase his action is determined by his own will. But since he must realize\nthe absurdity of what he is doing, he seeks for some sufficient motive\nto explain it, and always finds one to his own satisfaction.\n\nAll the efforts of anguished sophists to prove their thesis of the\nFreedom of the Will from data supplied by introspection have failed\nmiserably. But they were forced to undertake them, for theology cannot\ngive up the contention that man acts with free Will. It is an important\npart of the religious conception of the universe and of the relation in\nwhich, according to this, man stands to God.\n\nTo put it shortly, religion sees in man's life on earth a preparation\nfor eternity. It gives him the opportunity of coming nearer to God by\nhis own efforts and thus making himself worthy of the salvation which\nsecures him a place in the sight of God to the end of time. Thus the\nlife of the flesh is made a method of selection by which the sheep are\nsundered from the goats. God provides man with free Will for this\nspecial purpose, so that he may make use of it to choose good of his own\naccord and to avoid evil. This undoubtedly wearisome task is made much\neasier for him, because God in His goodness has given him laws,\ndoctrines of Morality and examples which point out the way of salvation.\nIf man makes proper use of his gifts, if in pursuance of divine\nadmonition, he treads of his own free will the path of virtue, he\nacquires merit which gives him a legitimate claim to the reward of\nfinding favour in God's eyes and to be admitted to the company of the\njust and pure. But if man purposely turns to evil, of which he is warned\nby revelation and which he has been given the power to avoid, then he is\na sinner and deserves the punishment of damnation, which, however, he\nmay yet escape if God in His mercy forgives him his sin. Therefore man\nholds in his hand the fate of his immortal soul. It depends on him\nwhether this fate be salvation or damnation. He is responsible for\ndirecting it to the former or the latter. Of course, God has the power\nto force him to virtue and to stop him from vice. But it is not His plan\nto condemn man to be the slave of virtue. He wants man to choose virtue\nof his own accord, He wants noble souls about Him who by freedom have\nattained Morality.\n\nThis religious view of the universe, which deals in assertions and\ndisdains on principle to prove even one of them to Reason by facts that\ncan be tested, contrasts with the scientific view of the universe which\nasserts nothing but what can be objectively ascertained to be true,\nwhich distinguishes sharply between the account of what has been\nobserved and can be tested by everyone and hypotheses for which it\ndemands no belief, but only the recognition of their possibility or\nprobability, and which it discards as soon as an ascertained fact\ndefinitely disproves them. No compromise is possible between these two\nviews of the universe. Nothing can bridge the chasm between them. It\nwould be superficial to say that the theme of the scientific view is\nrealities and that of the religious one imagination. Imagination is also\na reality, only of a different order to that which is called so in\ncommon parlance. It is a subjective reality; it exists only in the mind\nthat conceives it. Reality itself is for the thinking mind only a state\nof consciousness, but it is an image of conditions which have an\nobjective existence, though in another form, outside the consciousness.\nThe supporters of religion maintain that there is an objective reality\ncorresponding to their concepts, but this cannot be ascertained by any\nof the senses which the living organism has developed in order to\nestablish a relation between the world, of which it is a part, and\nitself. It is perfectly useless for supporters of the one view of the\nuniverse to try and convince those of the other. Each of them moves on a\ndifferent plane and is unapproachable to the other. All that can be done\nis to define both the one and the other as clearly as possible and prove\ntheir incompatibility.\n\nFor the scientific view of the Universe the problem of Free Will does\nnot exist and cannot exist. All facts that science has observed force it\nto the assumption of causation, which does not only mean that every\nphenomenon is produced by a cause, is the effect of a cause and could\nnever have occurred but for this cause, but also means that the effect\nrepresents the exact equivalent of the energy which was its cause. Thus\nthe hypothesis of the indestructibility of the total energy in the\nuniverse is an essential part of the concept of causation, the\nfundamental hypothesis without which the phenomenon of the universe and\nthe things which occur in it are simply unintelligible to Reason; and\neverything in and outside ourselves, everything that we perceive,\nbecomes chaos, chance, lawless whim or miracle in the theological sense\nof the word.\n\nIt is inconceivable that an effect should be anything other than the\nreappearance in a different form of the exact quantity of energy that\ncaused it; for if the energy of the effect exceeded that of its cause,\nthen part of the effect would have been produced without cause; and if\nthe energy of the effect fell short of that of the cause, then part of\nthe energy of the cause would have been expended without producing an\neffect. That, however, would be the negation of causation, it would be\nan admission that part of the effect (i.e. an effect) could be produced\nwithout sufficient cause, i.e. out of nothing, and that a part of the\ncause (i.e. energy) could disappear (into nothing) without producing an\nequivalent effect, which is obviously absurd.\n\nThe human Will manifests itself by an action or the prevention of an\naction according to the impulse felt by our organism. Both these are an\nexercise of force, the amount of which can be measured. Indeed,\ninhibition, too, is a dynamical effort which represents the exact\nequivalent of the force with which the impulse which it has checked\nacted on the motory centres. The Will, therefore, expends energy which\ndoes work that can be measured. But the Will must derive this energy\nfrom some source. It therefore also only converts energy derived from\nthe energy of the universe, the total amount of which can neither be\naugmented nor diminished; the Will consequently is a part of the dynamic\nenergy of the universe, and must necessarily be subject to its\nmechanical law; that is, to the law of causation. It is therefore not\nfree, but dependent, as is every phenomenon in the universe. Whoever\nmaintains its freedom maintains that it is independent, that it is not\nsubject to the law of causation, that it has no cause of which the\nelements, if they could be fully known to us, would be measurable, that\nit expends energy which it derives from nowhere, that it produces energy\nout of nothing. Whoever maintains this contradicts all experience from\nwhich the knowledge of Nature and her laws has been built up; it is\nobviously hopeless to expect a reasonable discussion with such a person.\n\nNow the supporters of free Will may reply that they do not deny that the\nWill derives its energy from the organism and therefore from the\nuniversal source of cosmic energy, and that it makes use of it according\nto the laws of mechanics; but they assert that the direction in which\nenergy is expended by the Will is freely determined by it; further, that\nthe direction does not affect the amount of energy used, and\nconsequently the Will can act absolutely in accordance with the\nmechanical laws of the universe and yet can, independently of outside\ncauses, determine the manner in which the energy shall be expended; that\nis to say, the Will can be free. But this objection is pure sophistry,\nfor the determination of the direction, in so far as it is not mere\nimagination and therefore ineffective and sterile, but really controls\nthe action, is an expenditure of energy. The controlling power uses up\nenergy and obeys a cause, so we have arrived at the same dilemma\nagain--either the controlling Will is subject to the law of causation,\nthen it is not free; or it is free and is determined by no outside\ncause, then we must ascribe to it motion without driving power and\nenergy derived from nothing--which is absurd.\n\nNo. There is no such thing as Free Will. The concept of freedom itself\nis an illusion of thought which cannot survey sufficiently extensive\nconnexions. Nothing in the universe is free; all things mutually\ndetermine each other. All are cause and effect, and they fit into one\nanother like cog wheels. Everything is linked up and dovetailed. The\nphilosopher's phrase, \"Everything is in flux,\" is the description of the\noutward appearance of things. Against it we must set the reality which\nis: \"Everything is eternally at rest.\" For a circumscribed system of\nmotion without beginning or end may mean motion for every individual\npoint which describes the course, but is, as a whole, virtually at rest.\nEverything that exists, or ever will exist, has its necessary and\nsufficient cause in that which has always been; the sequence of\nphenomena has been unalterably determined since all eternity for all\neternity; what we call chance is an occurrence for which our ignorance\ncannot perceive the necessary causes and conditions; past and future\nwould be in the same plane, therefore would be present for an\nomniscience, which knew and understood the machine of the universe down\nto its smallest wheel and pin.\n\nOne of the logical consequences of this is that, without any miracle or\nthe assumption of any supernatural influences, it would be possible to\nforetell the most distant events in all their smallest details. An\nintelligence sufficiently wide and penetrating would, following the\nstrict law of causation, be able to produce all lines of the present\nwith absolute certainty immeasurably far into the future. As everything\nthat ever will be necessarily must be, it virtually exists at present\nand has always existed; therefore it is only a question of clarity of\nvision, which however, is denied to man, to see it at any time and to\nany extent.\n\nThe illusion of flux is explicable. Life, which like all world processes\nis a cyclical motion, is passed in an endless alternation between the\nshining forth and extinction of consciousness, the bearers of which are\nan everlasting series of organisms following one another. Every organism\nlasts a limited time, during which it is carried along an inconceivably\nsmall fraction of the tremendous cycle. It sees all the points of this\nshort stretch but once, and does not learn that they are eternally the\nsame. It gathers the false impression that they fly past it, whereas\nthey are at rest and it passes them, until it ceases to be a suitable\nbearer of consciousness and disappears, making room for a successor.\nThis rigid immutability of the whole Universe is certainly intolerably\ngruesome to the imagination, but then, every time we look beyond the\nnarrow confines of life and human circumstances, to peep into the\ninfinity and eternity which surrounds us, do not terrifying vistas open\nup before us?\n\nNot only the religious minded, but many free thinkers, too, have Free\nWill at heart, though the latter are otherwise guiltless of any\nmysticism. They claim it in the name of man's dignity, which would be\ndeeply humiliated if we had to confess ourselves the slaves of outside\ninfluences, automata moved by universal causation without our having any\nsay in the matter. We are not entitled to such trumpery pride. Let us\nseek our dignity in our striving for knowledge, in the subjection of our\nown instincts to the control of our Reason, but not in an imaginary\nindependence of the laws of Nature, whose commands we should oppose in\nvain.\n\nWith Free Will responsibility also disappears. That is obvious. But that\nmeans a collapse only for theological Morality. Scientific ethics can\nmanage very well without responsibility. Nay, more; there is no room in\nit for this concept. In the system of theological Morality\nresponsibility has a transcendental significance. To sum up once more\nshortly what has been dealt with in detail above: according to this\nsystem Morality is a divine command, obedience to, or disregard of which\nresults in salvation or damnation; in order that reward and punishment\nmay be just, one as well as the other must be merited; that implies the\nassumption that virtue is practised or vice chosen intentionally and\nwith forethought; but this mode of action must be freely willed if man\nis to be responsible for it before his divine Judge.\n\nScientific ethics knows nothing of this supernatural dream. In its view\nMorality is an immanent phenomenon which occurs only within humanity--or\nto define it more accurately, within humanity organized as a society.\nIt arose from a definite necessity; from the undeniable need of men to\nunite, so as to be able, in company with one another, shoulder to\nshoulder, to succeed more easily, or indeed to succeed at all, in the\nstruggle for existence which is too hard for the solitary individual. It\nhas a clearly recognizable aim: to teach man to curb his selfish\ninstincts and to practise consideration for his neighbour, by which\nmeans alone peaceable life in common and productive co-operation are\npossible. The instinct of self-preservation supplies society with the\nlaws of Morality which it imperiously imposes on all its members, and\nunconditional obedience to which it demands. Society does not dream of\nsaying to the individual: \"You are free; you must yourself decide\nwhether you will follow the path of virtue or that of vice.\" On the\ncontrary, it says to him: \"Whether you wish it or not, you must do that\nwhich my doctrine of Morality indicates as good and eschew that which it\ndeclares to be evil. You have no choice. I tolerate you in my midst only\nif you submit to the laws of Morality. If you transgress them I shall\ndraw your teeth and claws or destroy you altogether.\" By discipline\nlasting many thousands of years society has developed in the individual,\nthough not in all, an organ that watches that his conduct is moral, and\nthis is the conscience. But this is only supplementary to, and\nrepresentative of, society, which in the main exercises police\nsupervision itself, and sees that in general the moral law is obeyed. It\njudges all the actions of the individual that come to its knowledge.\nConscience only is the competent authority where occurrences are\nconcerned which take place simply in the consciousness of the\nindividual, and which he alone is aware of. Conscience is only too often\na lenient judge who acquits the individual too easily and nearly always\nadmits extenuating circumstances. Society does not let him off so\nlightly; his punishment is certain if he cannot prevent his sin from\nbecoming known.\n\nResponsibility therefore also exists in Morality as understood by\nsociologists. As far as his intentions are concerned the individual must\ncome to terms with his conscience, which, as a rule, he does not find\ndifficult. For his deeds he must account to society, and it does not ask\nwhat took place in his consciousness, but only how his spiritual\nimpulses were manifested. For his deeds, then, he is summoned before\nsociety's court of justice and must answer for them without having\nrecourse to the excuse that he acted as he was forced to do by his\ndisposition and the pressure of circumstances, and that he had no choice\nand could not act otherwise. Though Morality has always been necessary\nfor the life of the community, and though the latter has, under the\npressure of the law of self-preservation, always had to make its members\nstrictly subservient to Morality, it has ever had a dim idea that the\nresponsibility of the individual for his actions is only of practical,\nnot of fundamental or ideal significance. It has never pushed\ninvestigation as to how far the individual acted freely or not to any\ngreat lengths, never attempted to trace it to the foundations of his\nconsciousness, to the inception of the impulses of his Will. Where the\nlack of freedom was obvious, for instance, where every layman could see\nthere was insanity, the Moral law has been disregarded ever since\nancient times, and society has contented itself with protecting itself\nfrom the intolerable actions of the lunatic by rendering him harmless.\nSince positive Law, made concrete in the laws with penal sanctions, was\nevolved from the universal Moral law, it has admitted the plea of\nirresponsibility and refrained from exercising its coercive powers where\nsuch irresponsibility has been established. In addition to madness,\ndemonstrable coercion and self-defence relieve the individual from\nresponsibility for the crime and render him immune from punishment.\n\nIn the course of evolution society has conceded still further\nlimitations of individual responsibility. It willingly admits new\nknowledge gained by scientific psychology and concedes limited\nresponsibility, not only in case of madness, but in such cases, too,\nwhere experts can convincingly prove to the judges, the guardians of its\nLaw, that the individual was in an abnormal condition and affected by\nmorbid influences at the time of the crime. Farther society cannot go,\nif it does not want to put an end to Moral law and do away altogether\nwith positive law. Concern for its continued existence forbids this. It\nmust leave it to the philosophers to continue the investigation. They\nmust show that the Will is never free, always fettered, not only in the\nextreme cases of madness or when under the influence of suggestion. They\nmust make it clear that there is only a difference of degree and not of\nkind between the determining influences under which the individual is\nconstrained to act, and that the causation which binds him proceeds by\nimperceptible degrees from the delirium of the maniac and the obsession\nof the abnormal man to the passion, lust and desire of the man with\nstrongly developed instincts, and to the slight stimulus of habits, the\ncolourless judgment and shallow considerations of the ordinary man with\na deformed character and no definite features. Society can draw no\npractical conclusion from the theoretical recognition of the lasting\nlimitation and lack of freedom of the Will, because moral law by its\nvery nature implies coercion, and therefore excludes freedom. Whether\nthe individual submits to the Moral law of his own accord, or because he\nis forced thereto by the community's powers of coercion, is of no\naccount to society. It deals only with the visible results.\n\nBut it is not merely a matter of flat utilitarianism, it is not even\nunjust, if society, without inquiring whether the Will is free or not,\nmakes the individual responsible for his actions and only makes an\nexception from this universal rule in extreme cases. Even though his\nwill is subject to the law of causation, and the individual always acts\nas he must, he nevertheless has a means of keeping within the moral law\ndespite inner impulses and outer pressure, and that is by his judgment\nand its instrument, inhibition. Like every organic function which is not\npurely vegetative and therefore beyond the influence of the Will,\njudgment and inhibition can be strengthened and perfected by methodical\nexercise, while total neglect of them will weaken and finally atrophy\nthem. The community may demand that each of its members shall devote\nattention to the development of the natural functions which permit him\nto discriminate and to suppress any inclination to evil which may\nappear. It facilitates this duty towards itself and himself for the\nindividual--for it is a question of the increase of his organic\nefficiency and of his personal worth--by the institutions it founds for\nthe education of youth, by schools which not only impart knowledge, but\nalso form the character, by instruction after the school age, by the\nhonours with which it distinguishes especially excellent persons,\nthereby holding them up to example. The community prescribes that\neveryone should acquire a certain minimum of knowledge, and for this\npurpose forces each individual by law to go to school for a certain\nnumber of years. It may and ought to force him also to render himself\nmore capable of obeying the moral law by methodical exercise of his\nwill. Every citizen is responsible to the state for being able to read\nand write. In this sense the individual is also responsible for\nsufficiently strengthening his faculty of inhibition to be able to\ncontrol his selfish, anti-social and immoral desires.\n\nThe particular purpose for which he is to employ his faculty of\ninhibition depends on the current moral law of the age, which is\ndetermined not by the individual, but by the community. The individual\ndoes quite enough and is free of blame if he strives with all his might\nto approximate his actions to the ideal which the community demands at a\ngiven time for the life of its members in common and for their mutual\nrelations. To alter and perfect this ideal is the business of a few\nselect men with wider judgment, stronger will and warmer sympathies than\nthe average. In these exceptional cases it is not the community which\nimposes its ideal on the individual, but, on the contrary, the\nindividual who works out a new ideal for the community, and, so to\nspeak, thanks to his personal qualities, establishes a new record in the\ngymnastic of the Will which beats all earlier ones.\n\nFinally, it is true, the individual is dependent on his natural\ndisposition. To say that he can be, and is to be, raised above himself\nis a very impressive, but really nonsensical, phrase. He can get out of\nhimself only what is in him by nature, and however hard he may try to\nreach out beyond the boundaries drawn by his organic disposition, he\nfinds it impossible to overstep them. But, as a rule, they are far wider\nthan the individual has any idea of until he attempts to reach them, and\nhe will find many surprises if he labours untiringly to develop to their\nfullest extent all the possibilities latent in him. Even a born weakling\ncan, by dint of methodical practice, harden his flaccid muscles\nsufficiently to become a gymnast of average skill, though he is hardly\nlikely to become a first-class athlete.\n\nIn just the same way a weak-willed or simple person can by earnest\nendeavours rise to a consistent morality; if, nevertheless, there appear\nin him, continually or occasionally, organic impulses which carry him\naway, it is not his fault but his misfortune. In that case he is\nsubjectively not responsible for his immorality. But the community can,\nall the same, not liberate him from responsibility, because the law of\nself-preservation forces it to insist on observance of the moral law,\nand it has no means of accurately measuring how strong the pressure of\ninstincts and the power of inhibition is in any individual, and to what\nextent he has fulfilled the duty of exercising and strengthening the\nlatter. The phrase \"To understand everything is to forgive everything\"\nshows insight, but is only true in the sense that one must not blame an\nindividual for his natural imperfection. It comprehends recognition of\nthe Will's lack of freedom, and the inadmissibility, from the\nphilosophical point of view, of the concept of responsibility, but it\ndoes not affect the right and the duty of the community to demand moral\nconduct regardless of this lack of freedom. It is not permitted to\nforgive because it understands. Moreover, there would be no sense in\nforgiveness by the community, for the concept of forgiveness implies\nfeeling and kindly forgetfulness of an injury inflicted of malice\nprepense; but insult and offence play no part in the punishment by\nsociety of transgressions of the moral law, and indulgence due to\nsensibility would endanger its existence.\n\nThe certainty possessed by the individual that his evil deeds, if they\nbecome known, will have evil consequences for him is one of the\ndetermining factors which is indispensable in helping him to make a\ndecision. It is an inadmissible affectation to condemn the fear of\npunishment as a motive for moral action, because it ought to be the\nresult of the conviction that it is absolutely right. It is a powerful\naid to self-discipline, as also are the thought and the foretaste of\nthe satisfaction upon which self-respect may count if general respect\nand praise are to be the reward of exemplary conduct.\n\nThe great weakness of the Kantian doctrine of Morality lies in the fact\nthat it retains Free Will, even though it gives it another name. It is\ncalled autonomy of Will and is contrasted with heteronomy. This doctrine\ndemands, and considers it possible, that the Will should be its own\nlawgiver and should not allow others to lay down laws for it; but it\nfails to examine how the Will comes to make laws for itself, of what\nhypothesis these laws are the necessary conclusions, by what means the\nWill secures respect for its law, and whether this seemingly\nself-imposed law is not really the inner realization of a ready-made law\nof extraneous origin. The dogma of the autonomy of the Will is a\nconsequence of the preliminary error of excluding utility from Morality\nand of declaring its imperative to be categorical, that is, not\ndependent on the aim, but independent and regardless of any aim. The\nwhole tomfoolery of the categorical imperative and of the autonomy of\nthe Will is transcendental mysticism, and is all the more surprising as\nit is the result of an investigation which claims to be the work of pure\nReason. It is the shadow of the ghostly bogies of religious conceptions\nin the daylight of \"pure Reason.\"\n\nFrom the point of view of the community we may speak of merit and sin,\nbut not from the subjective point of view. For the community the moral\nconduct of the individual is useful, immoral conduct is disadvantageous,\ntherefore it praises the one and condemns and punishes the other. That\nis opportunism, but not moral philosophy. Considered subjectively, moral\nconduct is just as little meritorious as beauty, great stature, muscular\nstrength, keen intelligence, health, a good memory, prompt reactions of\nconsciousness and all other advantages that the individual has received\nwithout his personal intervention as a gift of nature. And immoral\nconduct is just as little blameworthy as ugliness, stupidity, sickness\nand other misfortunes which the individual is burdened with by heredity\nor which a hard fate has imposed on him. Happy is the favoured man!\nPitiable the unfortunate one! Both are the work of forces which are\nabsolutely beyond the control of their wills. In the same way the good\nman acts morally because he possesses insight and restraining\nwill-power, and the bad man acts immorally because these perfections\nhave been denied him, and neither the one nor the other can do anything\nin the matter.\n\nThat does not relieve man of the duty of labouring assiduously at his\nmoral development, but it does relieve him of responsibility for the\nresult of his efforts. On one point the sociological, the biological and\nthe theological moralists agree: they all bow down humbly before Grace.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nMORALITY AND PROGRESS\n\n\nI have fully investigated in another book (\"_Der Sinn der Geschichte_\")\nthe problem of progress in all its details. I therefore refer the reader\nto that for all particulars, and will here give only a summary of the\nmain points.\n\nProgress implies motion from one point to another. This simple concept\nis supplemented by others, some clear and some dim, which group\nthemselves round it: the conception that the point towards which motion\nis directed signifies something better and more desirable than the one\nfrom which the motion takes place, and the assumption that the motion is\ndue to an impulse, either inherent in the moving object or complex of\nobjects and an essential part of it, or else impressed upon it by\noutside forces; further, that the impulse connotes a conscious image of\nthe goal arrived at, recognition of its higher worth and the desire for\ngreater perfection.\n\nAll these ideas, which are concomitants of the concept of progress, are\nchildish anthropomorphism when applied to the universe. To define\nprogress as motion from a worse point to a better one implies the\nexistence of a scale whereby value may be measured. Now values are\nclearly determined and graded as far as human beings or any similar\ncreatures are concerned. Worse or better means to man less or more\npleasant, useful, pleasing; progress, therefore, is a development to a\ncondition which man considers more suitable and useful for him and feels\nto be more harmonious and pleasanter. The universe, from this\nstandpoint, would make progress to prepare itself for the appearance of\nman, to become more intelligible, habitable and comfortable for man, to\nplease and delight him. Whether it obeys its own natural disposition or\na higher intelligence, a god, in carrying out this work, in either case\nit would realize progress to serve mankind. But if this ceases to exist,\nthere is no point in characterizing a development as progress in the\nsense of amelioration, beautification and perfection. One would then\nhave no right to describe, for instance, the solar system with its\nplanets as indicating progress from the original condition of nebula,\nbecause the latter in itself, apart from man and the conditions of his\nexistence, is not better or worse, not more beautiful or uglier, not\nmore perfect or more defective than the former; the original nebula and\nthe solar system are equally the result of the play of the same cosmic\nforces, and the dynamic formula of the one is the same as that of the\nother. But Reason rejects as nonsensical any view which declares man to\nbe the aim of the universe, which puts all the work of the universe at\nhis service, and conceives it as a huge machine functioning for his\nadvantage.\n\nFor reasons of formal logic, too, the idea of progress in the universe\nis unthinkable. The understanding cannot conceive of the universe as\nother than eternal. Now in eternity all progress, that is, all motion\nfrom a point of departure, must have reached its goal eternities ago,\nhowever slow the motion, however distant the goal. Eternity and progress\nare two concepts which logically exclude one another.\n\nIn the universe there can be no progress in the sense of ascent, of\nmotion from a worse to a better thing; the only thing in the universe,\nin Nature, which is comprehensible to the understanding and which\nexperience, derived from sense perceptions, can establish, is evolution,\nan eternal, equable motion always on the same level; and human standards\nof value are not applicable to its regular, successive stages. One state\nis merged without a break in another, the simple becomes more manifold\nuntil a maximum of complexity is reached; thereupon what is intricate\ngradually falls to pieces, and the complicated is dissolved and returns\nto the simple; then, when this point is attained, the same course begins\nagain, and so on for all eternity. Thus evolution in the universe is an\nendless succession of cyclic movements from the simple to the intricate\nand back to the simple; with a constant alternation from one point of\neach single circle to the other; with the most extreme, crushing\nuniformity in the totality of all cycles; with absolutely equal dignity\nof all the phases of the endless course as they develop one from the\nother; with a synchronism, inconceivable to man, of all forms of\nevolution in numberless circles revolving side by side within the\ninfinite whole of the universe.\n\nBut the concept of progress, which cannot be derived from the processes\nin the universe and has no sense when applied to them, becomes a\nreasonable one as soon as its validity is limited to the evolution of\nhumanity. Here we no longer deal with conceptions of eternity and\ninfinity. It is a question of temporal and spacial phenomena. The\nexistence of man had a beginning. No doubt it will have an end. It\nappeared on earth latest at the commencement of the Quaternary\ngeological period, but more probably towards the end of the Tertiary\nperiod. It must necessarily disappear when the earth, owing to cold and\nevaporation, becomes incapable of supporting life, a state of affairs\nwhich, according to our present knowledge of natural laws, must\ninevitably come to pass. A few million years are allotted to it in which\nto fulfil its destiny, certainly a short span of time compared with the\neternity of the universe, but compared with the duration of individual\nand national life, with personal destinies and historical occurrences,\nan immeasurably vast prospect. Within the limits of its genesis, its\nbeing and its disappearance, it is in a constant state of evolution. It\nis impossible to deny this. Comparisons between the skulls found among\nremains of the paleolithic age and those of our times, between the state\nof the undeveloped tribes of central Africa and Australia and that of\nthe peoples of Europe and America, between the beginnings of human\nspeech and the present-day languages, between the thought, knowledge and\nabilities of former generations and ours--all these prove this\nincontrovertibly.\n\nThe purpose of this evolution is unmistakable. It is directed towards an\never closer, ever subtler adaptation to the unalterable conditions\nwhich are imposed on men by Nature, and which they must make the best of\nif they are not to perish. And it is synonymous with progress; that is\nto say, not only with change, simple motion from one point to another,\nbut with amelioration and improvement.\n\nHere we may apply standards of value. The aim and object of evolution,\nwhich we know and desire, supply us with them. Here we may judge and\nappraise anthropomorphically. Not only may we do so, but we must, for it\nis a question of matters which concern mankind alone. All evolution of\nmankind, corporal and intellectual, the enlargement of the brain case so\nas to accommodate a larger brain; the development of the muscles of the\nlarynx, palate and hand, and the accurate co-ordination of their\nmovements, which things make clearer and more emphatic speech possible\nand render the hands defter; the acquisition, interpretation and storing\nup of experiences leading to discoveries and inventions, all are\ndirected to the same end: to provide men with more reliable weapons in\nthe struggle for existence; to defend them from the dangers surrounding\nthem, the destructive forces of Nature; to render their life more\nsecure, longer and richer; to save them from fatigue and suffering; to\ngive them pleasurable emotions and possibilities of happiness. And as we\nhave a clear idea of the object of our evolution, as we desire this\nobject and continually seek to find new means whereby to reach it, we\nare absolutely justified in calling every movement that brings us nearer\nto the aim we have in view, and aspire to reach, a progressive step,\nand in calling every stage of evolution which realizes a biggish part of\nthe object desired an amelioration, an improvement, an ascent.\n\nThe total amount of progress which has secured to mankind its\ndevelopment we sum up in the concept of civilization. The latter,\nhowever, is still far removed from ideal perfection. What we know is\ninfinitesimally small compared with the tremendous bulk of the unknown,\nperhaps the unknowable, which greets our view on all sides. Our\ntechnical achievements often leave us in the lurch and indicate no way\nout of many difficulties. In the human being who knows and can do\nsomething, too much still remains of the stupid, helpless, untamed,\nprimitive beast.\n\nNevertheless, what has been achieved is of value, and it is childish to\ndepreciate it. Paradoxical minds, like J. J. Rousseau and his\nparrot-like imitators, may deny the use of all civilization and declare\nthat the so-called state of nature, the ignorance and helplessness of\nundeveloped man amid all too mighty Nature, is preferable. That is an\nintellectual joke which is not very amusing. We have not vanquished\ndeath, but we have prolonged life, as the mortality statistics prove. We\ncannot cure all diseases; crowded dwellings in great cities, the nature\nand intensity of our occupations--civilization, in short--bring diseases\nfrom which we should probably not suffer if we were savages; but the\ncave-dwellers, too, were subject to illnesses, and our antisepsis and\nhygiene effectually prevent many and grave bodily ills. Division of\nlabour makes the individual dependent on the whole economic organism;\nit makes it easier for the favoured few to exploit the many and to be\nparasites at their expense, but nevertheless the individual can more\neasily satisfy his needs than if, being completely free and independent,\nhe alone had to provide all the objects he requires. The speed and\nfacility with which the exchange of goods is effected, thanks to ever\nnew and ever more excellent means of communication, often give rise to\nartificial wants; cheap travel occasions useless restlessness, but the\nemancipation of the individual from the place of his birth, the\nconversion of the whole globe into one single economic domain, of which\nevery part with its own particular superabundance of men and products\nsupplies the lack of the same in other parts, has at least this\ninvaluable advantage, that it makes man more independent of local\nhazards and makes the earth more habitable for him. Many things provided\nby civilization are obtainable only by the rich, and the spectacle of\nthe luxury of these favoured mortals makes the lot of the poor harder to\nbear, but the possibility of working one's way up into the ranks of the\nfortunate is a mighty spur to strong characters, and gives rise to\nefforts which are profitable to many. All the great technical\nachievements of civilization can certainly not bring happiness either to\nthe individual or to the community, because happiness is a spiritual\nstate which does not depend on bodily satisfactions and, though it may\nbe troubled by material conditions, can never be created by them; but\nthe moments of happiness which the individual experiences derive an\nextraordinary intensity from the instruments of civilization which\nsurround and serve us.\n\nCertainly civilization has its bad points, and it requires no great\ncleverness to discover them, to point them out and to exaggerate them.\nCertainly many of its most boasted, supposed benefits are not really a\nblessing, but either merely imaginary or else unimportant--little,\nsuperfluous things which may be pleasant, but lacking which we can live\nwithout great deprivation, and for which we undoubtedly pay far too\ndearly. But, on the whole, it is a mighty achievement of man's\nstruggling intellect, an invaluable improvement of the lot of man, and\nif anyone denies this he forfeits any claim to serious refutation.\nRousseau's state of nature may be a very pleasant change for a summer\nholiday, but every man of sound common sense would decline it as a\npermanent abode.\n\nWe may therefore freely concede the fact of progress in civilization in\nso far as the latter implies greater safety, facility, order and\nequability of life, deeper and more widely diffused knowledge and more\nperfect adaptation of man to the natural conditions in which he finds\nhimself. For it is no reservation to note in the course of evolution\nboth individual deviations from the path which leads to the goal of\ncivilization, the amelioration of the constitution of mankind, and\noccasional relapses into bygone barbarisms. To make use of Gumplowicz's\nexpression, it is not an acrochronic and acrotopic illusion (that is, a\nform of self-deception which consists in thinking the time when one\nlives and the place where one lives the best of all times and the most\nwonderful of all places) if we place the present far above all past\nages and declare our civilization to be incomparably richer and more\nperfect than anything that has preceded it. The _laudator acti_, the\ncross-grained Nestor who praises the past at the expense of the present,\nthe enthusiast for \"the good old times,\" is a figure that has always\nbeen familiar. But it proves nothing. This tender love of the past is\nnot the outcome of objective comparison and consideration, but an\nimpulse of subjective psychology. It is simply the emotion and longing\nwhich fill an old man's heart when he looks back on his youth. He\nremembers the pleasurable emotions which once accompanied all his\nimpressions and which are now unknown to his worn-out organism, and he\nthinks the world was better because he found more joy in it. The aged\nman is convinced that in his youth the sky was bluer, the rose more\nodorous, the women more beautiful than now, but an impartial observer\nwould pityingly shake his head at this.\n\nBut can the progress, which cannot reasonably be denied in civilization,\nalso be traced in Morality? Philosophers who are by no means negligible\nhave roundly replied in the negative. Buckle declares uncompromisingly\nthat the only progress possible to man is intellectual, and by this he\nmeans that mankind grows in knowledge, foresight and clarity of thought,\nbut not at the same time in Morality, which, according to him, differs\nfrom the intellect and understanding and is not included in them.\nBuckle's unfavourable judgment has been turned into a formula which has\noften been repeated. Scientifically, technically, we progress; morally\nwe stand still or slip back; the two orders of development move neither\nin the same direction nor with the same speed. That is a view that is\nwidely held. Fr. Bouillier comes to the same conclusion as Buckle,\nthough from different considerations. He asserts that \"a savage who\nobeys his conscience, however ignorant this may be, can be as virtuous\nas a Socrates or an Aristides; one can even go so far as to defend the\nview that social progress instead of strengthening individual morality\nweakens it, for society, in proportion as it is better ordered, saves\nthe individual the trouble of a great many virtuous actions.\"\n\nHowever, there are other moralists who take the opposite view.\nShaftesbury cannot imagine a moral system in which there is no place for\nthe idea of constant progress, of continuous improvement. The great\nFrenchmen of the eighteenth century are convinced of the moral rise of\nhumanity. \"The mass of mankind,\" says Turgot, \"advances constantly\ntowards an ever-growing perfection,\" and elsewhere: \"Men taught by\nexperience grow in ever greater measure and in a better sense humane.\"\nCondorcet defends no less emphatically the view that the faculty of\ngrowing more perfect is inherent in man. This is a case of pessimism and\noptimism which have their roots less in reasonable thought than in\ntemperament. A worn-out, weary individual, or generation, looks back and\nspends the time in futile yearning and melancholy visions of the past;\nbut a sturdy generation, full of life, and conscious of it, looks\nforward, and planning, inventing, and determined to realize its creative\nideas, it conjures up the image of the future. Pessimism regrets and\ngroans; optimism hopes and promises. The former, like Ovid, thinks the\nGolden Age is in the past, the latter, like the fathers of the great\nRevolution, looks for it in the future. In neither case do they reach\nconclusions as a result of observation and logical thought, rather they\ninvent reasons afterwards for their conclusions, as they do\ninterpretations of their observations. But he who regards life neither\nwith bitterness nor with pride, and tries to understand it objectively,\nwill come to the opinion that Morality too has its fair share in the\nprogress of civilization.\n\nTheological thought interprets moral perfection differently from\nscientific thought. According to the former it is independent of\nintellectual development and purely a matter of faith. God is the ideal\nof Morality, belief in Him the necessary condition for a moral life.\nThrough its fall mankind withdrew from God and was left a prey to\nImmorality; original sin perpetually burdened it; by redemption and\ngrace it has been purified from this inborn stain, led back to God and\nonce more rendered capable of Morality. For mankind only one kind of\nprogress in Morality was possible, and this took place, not gradually\nand step by step, but with one sudden swift advance, by which it\nimmediately attained the highest degree of moral perfection possible,\nand that was when the true faith was revealed to it. Before the\nrevelation mankind did not know real Morality, only its dim shadow, only\na vague yearning for it; by the revelation at one blow it was in full\npossession of Morality, and now it is the business of every individual,\nwhether he will draw near to the divine example by pious efforts or\nruthlessly withdraw from it. Since the glad tidings of faith were\nannounced to humanity there can be no question of moral progress for\nmankind as a whole; it has become a personal matter which everyone has\nto deal with himself. Criticism of this dogmatism is superfluous. It is\nquite enough to place it before the reader.\n\nIt is quite comprehensible, too, that those whose views permit them to\ntalk with Bouillier of a savage who obeys his conscience should deny\nmoral progress. They assume that a savage has a conscience, that\nconscience is an element of human nature, that it is a quality or a\ncapacity like sensation or memory, that it is born with man like his\nlimbs and organs. In that case it might well be asserted that subjective\nMorality has made no progress in historic and perhaps even in\nprehistoric times, and that actually a \"savage who obeys his conscience\ncan be just as virtuous as a Socrates or an Aristides.\"\n\nIt would hardly be possible to give a concrete proof of the contrary; if\nfor no other reason because for a long time there have been no savages\nin the strict sense of the word anywhere on earth. By savages we mean\nhuman beings in their primitive, zoological condition who have developed\nsolely according to the biological forms of the species and under the\ninfluence of surrounding Nature and have taken over nothing of an\nintellectual character from the group to which they belong. All savages\nof whom we know form societies which for the most part are not even\nloosely, but firmly, knit together, with laws that may seem nonsensical\nand barbaric to us, but are none the less binding with clearly defined\nduties which they impose on every member, with sanctions whose cruelty\nsupersedes that of any punishment permitted by civilization. A man who\nis a member of a society, no matter how primitive it may be, may\ncertainly have a conscience, but the point is that he is not a savage,\nbut the contrary of a savage, namely: a social being who has received an\neducation from his society, who is bound to conform to its habits,\ncustoms and views, and who in all his actions must consider its opinion.\nBut these conditions, as I have shown, produce a conscience, the\nrepresentative of society in the consciousness of the individual.\nConscience is no innate feature of man uninfluenced by society, it is\nnot a product of Nature, it is the result of education; he who possesses\na conscience is no savage, but a person formed by discipline and\nsubservient to it; conscience is the fruit of civilization, of a certain\ncivilization; in itself it represents progress compared with the\nprimitive state of man. Consequently it is an objectionable\ncontradiction to talk of conscience and at the same time deny moral\nprogress.\n\nIt is peculiarly arbitrary, too, to think that a savage, if he had a\nconscience, could obey it to the same extent, that is, be just as\nvirtuous, as a Socrates or an Aristides. This would contradict all the\nobservations and experience from which I have derived the doctrine that\nconscience works by means of inhibition, and that Morality and Virtue\nfrom the biological point of view are inhibition. For inhibition is\ndeveloped by practice and use. Except in cases of morbid disturbance it\ndevelops simultaneously with the understanding which manipulates it and\ndemands efficiency from it. There can be no two opinions about the fact\nthat the understanding and the faculty of inhibition in living beings\nhave developed progressively. There is no need to adduce any proof that\nthe frog is intellectually superior to the zoospore, and man to the\nfrog, and that as we ascend the scale of organisms we find their\nreactions to stimuli are increasingly subject to individual\nmodification, and that there is a gradual transition from the original,\npurely mechanical tropism to differentiated reflex action, which,\nhowever, is still beyond the control of the will, and finally to\nresistances which suppress every externally visible reply on the part of\nthe organism to the impression it has received.\n\nIn the course of this development the faculty of inhibition grows\nstronger and more efficient and obeys the behests of the understanding\nmore and more swiftly, surely and reliably; it can reach a pitch of\ninvincibility against which all the revolts of instinct, all the storms\nof passion, are powerless.\n\nIn the savage, or rather in man at a low stage of civilization, the\npower of inhibition is far from having reached such perfect development.\nIt is not very robust, works defectively and often fails. Little\ncivilized man, if he has a conscience, cannot even with the best\nintentions always obey it punctually. His instinct is stronger than his\ninsight. He is not master of his impulses; rather it is they that master\nhim. All who have described tribes of low civilization have observed\nthat their reactions resemble reflex movements and that they lack\nself-control. Moral conduct, that is, control of their selfishness and\nconsideration for their fellow men, is difficult for them if it demands\neffort, sacrifice and painful renunciation. However, we need not trouble\nto go to the negroes of the Congo or the inhabitants of the Solomon\nIslands to observe the inefficiency of the power of inhibition. We need\nonly look around us. We shall find enough instances among ourselves. The\nuneducated, the badly educated and abnormal people on whom teaching and\nexample make no impression cannot follow the precepts of Morality,\nalthough they know them. To express it as the Roman poet does, they know\nthe better and approve it, but they have a longing for the worse. So it\nis wrong to say that a savage can be just as virtuous as a Socrates or\nan Aristides. He could not, even if he would. He would lack the organic\nmeans: a sufficiently trained intelligence to point out his moral duty,\na sufficiently developed faculty of inhibition to follow the admonition\nof his intelligence. Bouillier's objection to moral progress will not\nhold water. The Romantics who have invented the fairy tale of the noble\nsavage and who declare in Seume's words: \"See, we savages are better men\nafter all,\" are out of touch with reality. Like civilization, and\nsimultaneously with civilization, Morality progresses towards\nimprovement, towards perfection.\n\nThe Kantian moralist, like the theologian, is forbidden by the logic of\nhis system to admit the possibility of moral progress. If the moral law\nis categorical, that is, unlimited by any special purpose, if it exists\nwithin us, eternal and immutable as the stars above us, we should be\nhard put to it to say how this unalterable block, placed in our souls we\nknow not how or by whom, could receive an impetus to progressive\ndevelopment, or in what way this development could be carried out. That\nwhich is categorical is absolute, and the concept of progress in the\nabsolute, as in the infinite and the eternal, has no sense. But whoever\nregards Morality from the biological and sociological point of view is\nforced to assert its progress, just as the dogmatic mystic, who believes\nin the categorical imperative, is forced to deny it.\n\nLet us recapitulate the fundamental concepts. Regarded biologically\nMorality is Inhibition, the development of which is of the greatest\nimportance to the individual, as it enables him not to waste the living\nforce of his cell plasm and of his organs in sterile reflex movements,\nbut to store it up and hold it ready for useful purposes. The stronger\nhis power of inhibition the better he is armed for the struggle for\nexistence, and the better he is armed the more efficient he is. Denial\nof the progressive development of Inhibition implies a denial that\nmodern man can maintain himself with more ease and security against\nNature and hostile or injurious natural phenomena, and that he is more\nsuccessful in competition with other men than his predecessors on earth.\nBut this latter denial is obviously nonsense. The only individuals who\ndo not take part in progressive development are the degenerates. They\nare organically inferior, their faculty of inhibition is defective or\naltogether lacking, they are slaves of impulses which their will and\nintelligence have no means of controlling, they are the outcome of\nmorbidly arrested or retrograde development, they are the victims and\nrefuse of a civilization too intensive, too exhausting and wearing for\nsome men, and they are destined to fall out of the ranks of a race\nmoving majestically forward and to lie helplessly by the roadside.\n\nFrom the sociological point of view Morality is the bond which unites\nthe individuals in a community, the foundation upon which alone society\ncan be built up and maintained. For it implies a victory over self,\nconsideration for one's neighbour, recognition of his rights, concession\nof his claims, even when valued possessions must unwillingly be given up\nand painful renunciation of attainable satisfaction is required. This is\nneighbourly kindness and the charity of the Bible, Hutcheson's and\nHume's benevolence, Adam Smith's sympathy and Herbert Spencer's\naltruism; it is the necessary condition on which alone individuals can\nlive peaceably together and helpfully assist each other to make life\neasier. If most or all individuals lack it, we have Hobbes's war of all\nagainst all; then man is as a wolf to other men, and each one is\ncondemned to the state of a beast roaming in loneliness. If a few, a\nminority, lack it, then the majority will not tolerate them in its\nmidst, but will expel them from the community as a dangerous nuisance\nand deprive them of the privilege of mutual aid and of the advantage of\njoint responsibility.\n\nThe species of man, like every other species of organism and like every\nindividual, wants to live. It can only achieve this by adapting itself\nto existing natural conditions. The more suitable and perfect the\nadaptation the more easily and securely it lives. Under the present\nconditions of the universe and the earth a solitary human individual\ncould not manage to exist, let alone develop into an intelligent being.\nThe form his adaptation to circumstances has taken is that of union in\nan organized community. For the existence of society and the adjustment\nof the individual in it is the indispensable condition for the life of\nthe species as well as of the individual. Society can only continue to\nexist if individuals learn to consider one another and practise\nbenevolence towards each other. Society therefore created Morality and\ninculcated it in all its members, because it was its first need, the\nessential condition which rendered its existence possible, just as the\nspecies created society, because it could only continue to live as an\norganized society.\n\nThus Morality with the strictest logical necessity has its place in the\ntotality of efforts which human beings had to make, and still have to\nmake, in order to preserve life, to make it sufficiently profound and to\nenrich it with satisfactions, that is, with pleasurable emotions of\nevery kind, so that they may continue to have the will and the eager\ndesire to maintain their existence by effort and struggle; in short, in\norder to make life seem worth living, even at the cost of constant toil\nand moil. Without society it is impossible for the individual to exist;\nwithout Morality it is impossible for society to exist; the instinct of\nself-preservation furnishes society with habits and rules governing the\nmutual relations of its members and with institutions for economizing\nforce; all these together we call civilization. The development and\nimprovement of civilization is obvious; it is proved by the fact that it\ndraws nearer and nearer to its goal, namely, the establishment of\nsatisfactory relations between individuals and groups, and the\nattainment of a maximum of satisfaction with a minimum of individual\neffort. But it would be incomprehensible if Morality, the essential\ncondition for the existence of society which creates civilization,\nshould have no part in the indisputable, because easily demonstrable,\nprogress of the latter.\n\nMorality occupies such a large place in civilization that the mistaken\nview has arisen among many moral philosophers that it is the aim of\ncivilization and has no aim other than itself. Closer investigation\nshows this to be an error, a reversal of the true relation. Morality is\nno aim, certainly no aim to itself, it is a means to an end, the most\nimportant, most indispensable means to the one end, to bring about\ncivilization, to maintain and refine it, and adapt it more and more to\nits task. But the task of civilization, as I have shown, is to preserve,\nfacilitate and enrich the life of the individual and the species.\nMorality therefore is the most important form in which the instinct of\nself-preservation in the species is manifested, and to deny progress to\nit implies the assumption that the species does not possess the impulse\nto preserve and beautify its existence, that its instinct of\nself-preservation flags, that it does not recognize its aim and is\nignorant of the path leading to its goal. This assumption, however, is\ncontradicted by all, and supported by none, of the phenomena observable\nin the life of the species--the absolute increase of the population of\nthe earth, the prolongation of individual life and of the age of\nefficiency, the combating of every kind of harmful thing.\n\nThe steadfast self-control of civilized man compared with the\nunreliability of the savage, who appears capricious and unaccountable\nbecause he freely obeys every impulse, proves the progressive\ndevelopment of the faculty of inhibition in the individual organism. The\norder and definite organization of modern society, the rule of law,\nmen's equality before the law, the guarantee of freedom and respect for\nthe person, all these compared with the state of nations in earlier\ntimes (actually anarchy under a mantle of tyranny and the unlimited\npower of a few mighty ones over the helpless masses) prove the\nprogressive development of civilization in the social organism. But\nlogically the progressive development of Morality itself must correspond\nto the progressive development of its instrument, inhibition, and of its\nproduct, civilization.\n\nThe conclusion to which we are forced by theoretical considerations is\nfully endorsed by observation of actual life. It is sufficient to\nindicate broad facts to one who denies moral progress. Slavery, which\nAristotle thought a law of Nature, which Christianity tolerated, which\nmodern states, such as England, France, the United States and Brazil,\ndefended and protected by law, was everywhere abolished some years ago.\nThe objection is raised that modern hired labour is merely slavery of\nthe proletariat under another name, that the exploitation of workmen by\nemployers is a hypocritical continuation of serfdom. But that is\nsophistry. The hired labourer is not bound to his contract. He can break\nit. \"Yes, at the price of starvation.\" That used to be the case, but\nnowadays organized working men are no longer at the mercy of powerful\ncapital, and therein lies progress. They are in a position to make\nconditions and not seldom to force their acceptance. They have the right\nto strike, to move from place to place, to form unions. The community\nhas recognized the duty of mitigating, at least to some extent, the\nevils to which faulty economic organization exposes the workman. It has\ninstituted accident and health insurance, old age pensions, and, in some\nplaces, assistance for those who are out of work through no fault of\ntheir own. All this is still very defective, but these are hopeful\nbeginnings, all the same, and, above all, it shows the awakening of a\nsocial conscience that earlier ages did not know.\n\nJustice is administered more and more humanely, that is, morally. It is\na century since legal torture was abolished. Society is ashamed to get\nat the truth easily by torturing a suspect who after all may be\ninnocent. The condemned man is no longer branded or mutilated; he\nsuffers no corporal ill-treatment of which the results can never be\nobliterated. Capital punishment is still a blot on the honour of\ncivilization. But for more than a century now, since the time of\nBeccaria, it has been violently opposed and has already been abolished\nin some states; the others will no doubt have to follow suit within a\nshort time. Consider that in England at the beginning of the nineteenth\ncentury a thief was hanged if he had stolen a thing of no more value\nthan the rope that was to hang him, and even children of fourteen years\nwere condemned to this fate. To-day the judge pronounces sentence of\ndeath, even where it is still legal, with grave misgivings and\nsearchings of conscience, and the execution, formerly a public\nspectacle, is carried out more or less secretly, because the conviction\nis gradually ripening in society that by the cold-blooded killing of a\nman it is perpetrating a crime which it must keep as secret as possible.\nThe sentence is now almost everywhere deferred, and thus the conviction\nbecomes a very emphatic warning which points out the path of repentance,\nof conversion and improvement to the guilty man, and leaves him the\npossibility of becoming a decent human being again. Special courts for\nchildren mitigate the stern penal code and modify it according to the\nneeds of unripe, youthful characters. Imprisonment for debt is a\nhalf-forgotten thing of the past and regarded more or less as a joke.\nWhat these changes have in common is that they one and all indicate a\ndeepening of the community's feeling of duty and responsibility towards\nthe individual, greater respect for persons on the part of the law, an\nincrease of the will to resist the first impulse of anger, revenge and\nmercilessness. These tendencies, however, are the very essence of\nMorality.\n\nI forbear to adduce as a proof of progress that the Inquisition no\nlonger rules and nowhere burns its victims. For actually there is no\ngreater toleration of those who hold other opinions than there was\nformerly. Religious toleration is explained by the fact that the\npeople's consciousness no longer attaches such enormous importance to\nreligion as in past centuries. But political, \u00e6sthetic and philosophical\nantagonisms arouse as much bloodthirsty rage to-day as did formerly\nheresy in religion, and opponents would unhesitatingly apply torture and\nthe stake to one another if the great mass of the people would develop\nsufficiently enthusiastic zeal for their views to allow their raging\nfanaticism to have recourse to violence, as it once permitted\ndomineering religious orthodoxy to do.\n\nOther aspects of civilization, not so essential, are hardly less\nencouraging than the developments on which I have hitherto dwelt.\nDrunkenness, formerly an almost universal vice, is on the decrease.\nAmong the educated classes it is only met with exceptionally, and is\nrecognized as a morbid aberration; among the lower classes it\ncontinually grows less. The statistics of the savings banks show an\never-growing determination to save. The masses who used to rejoice in\ndirt now manifest an increasingly vigorous desire for a cleanliness that\ndemands soap and baths. This indicates control of impulse, of the\ninclination for alcoholic drinks and the tendency to squander, and an\nincrease of self-respect which recognizes dirt to be humiliating. These\nare activities of the moral feelings, their material activities.\n\nIf, in spite of these material proofs of the progress of Morality in all\nsocial functions and in many individual habits, serious-minded men still\nmaintain that it stands still or even that it shows retrogression\ncompared with former times, this view, which is undoubtedly a mistaken\none, is due to wrong interpretation of facts.\n\nBouillier's remark that \"social progress instead of increasing\nindividual Morality weakens it, because society, in proportion as it is\nbetter organized, saves the individual the trouble of a number of\nvirtuous actions\" has a perfectly correct point of departure. Many tasks\nof neighbourly kindness and humane joint responsibility which used to be\nleft to the inclination, the free choice and the noble zeal of\nindividuals, and could be carried out or neglected by them, are now\nmethodically fulfilled by the community. Saint Martin no longer needs to\ndivide his cloak to give half to a poor shivering man. The public\ncharity commission gives him winter clothes if he cannot afford to buy\nany. No knights are needed to protect innocence, weakness and humility\nfrom oppressors. The oppressed appeal successfully to the police, the\ncourt of justice, or, by writing to the papers, to public opinion. There\nis no need for Knights Templar or Knights of St. John to care for\nstrangers and tend the sick. Inns and public hospitals are at their\ndisposal. To-day there would be neither occasion nor reason for the\nmiracle of St. Elizabeth of Hungary, who against the orders of her hard\nhusband took to the starving bread which was turned into roses. The poor\nare regularly fed in municipal and communal kitchens. Individual deeds\nof mercy are less necessary now than formerly, when, if they occurred,\nthey were the outcome of exceptionally noble and devout sympathy and\nheroic self-sacrifice.\n\nOne is therefore inclined to believe that men are less capable of such\ndeeds than they were in the past. But that is doing them a grave\ninjustice. Dr. Barnardo, who opened a home for the little waifs and\nstrays of the East End of London, is not inferior to St. Vincent de Paul\nwho adopted and brought up forsaken children. John Brown who suffered a\nmartyr's death by hanging because he attempted with arms to liberate the\nnegro slaves of the Southern States, Henry Dumont who devoted the\nefforts of a lifetime to founding the Red Cross to help those wounded in\nwar, Emile Zola who sacrificed his fortune, his reputation as an author,\nhis personal safety, and suffered persecution, calumny, exile, a\nshameful condemnation in court, and violent threats to his life in order\nto get justice for Captain Dreyfus who had been wrongfully accused--all\nthese can well compare with the saints in the Golden Legend. Virtue\nexists potentially in as many cases as formerly, probably in more; and\nit is actively practised whenever and wherever it is appealed to.\n\nAnother result of the long evolution of civilization and Morality is the\ndevelopment of an ethical instinct in all except abnormal, degenerate\nindividuals, which causes men to act morally in nearly all situations\nwithout conscious reflection, choice or effort. The individual who is\nethically well grounded, in whom moral conduct has become an organized\nreflex action, does what is right without any conscious effort, and\ntherefore does not in so doing evoke any idea of merit either in\nhimself or in witnesses. But to do right habitually, carelessly and\nalmost without thought, as one breathes and eats, easily makes one\nunjust in one's judgments. The battle between Reason and blind instinct,\nbetween the Will and refractory Impulse, the victory of the lofty\nprinciple, of spirituality over what is irrational and materialistic,\nwhich give us the illusion that free humanity is superior to the\nfatality of cosmic forces, have something so elevated and beautiful\nabout them that we are disappointed if they are absent, and practical\nMorality without this dramatic setting does not appear to be real\nMorality.\n\nNevertheless we must not give way to this \u00e6sthetic point of view. We\nmust always remember that Morality has a biological and sociological aim\nand must soberly admit that it is all the better if this aim is realized\nwithout in every single case depending on uncertain individual\ndecisions. It would be an ideal state of affairs if in a society there\nwere such clear knowledge of all its vital necessities, and this had\nbeen so inculcated in all its members, that their harmonious life\ntogether and their co-operation for the common weal would never more be\ntroubled by the revolt of ruthless individual selfishness against the\nlove of one's neighbour and willingness to sacrifice oneself for the\ncommunity. The ideal of Morality would be attained, but the concept of\nMerit would be transferred from the individual to the community.\nSuperficial observation might object to finding in individuals no\nvictorious struggle against resistance, hence no virtue, and might\nbemoan the stagnation, nay, the retrogression, of Morality. But whoever\nviews matters as a whole would have to admit that it would imply the\ngreatest progress in virtue if the latter from being an individual merit\nhad become an attribute of the community. I am far from maintaining that\nwe have reached this ideal state; but evolution tends unmistakably in\nthis direction; and this is one of the reasons why Morality may appear\nto make no progress.\n\nThe very rise of the community to a higher stage of Morality may be a\nfresh cause of error concerning the progress of Morality. The work of\nthe strongest and most clear-headed thinkers for many thousand years,\nwho have bequeathed as a legacy to the community their lifelong labours\nfor the amelioration of the lot of mankind, has developed in us an ideal\nof active and passive Morality which is always present, even to the mind\nof the weak or bad man who cannot or will not live up to it. By this\nideal, which is that of the community and which we bear within us, we\ninvoluntarily judge real life as we observe it, without applying the\nnecessary corrections. We necessarily note a discrepancy between theory\nand practice, which appears to us to be not mere inadequacy but a\ncontradiction of principles, not a quantitative, but a qualitative\ndifference, and thus he who is not forewarned easily becomes doubtful,\npessimistic, and bitterly contemptuous of mankind.\n\nThis is the theme with which light literature unweariedly deals. Novels\nand the drama constantly show us types: \"Pillars of society\" and other\nworthy men, who pretend to be honourable, who are full of good\nprinciples, preach unctuously and condemn others with pious indignation,\nbut who themselves in all situations behave with the most horrible\nselfishness and are sinks of iniquity. The creators of these rogues\nprofessing virtue, of these secret sinners, think they are mightily\nsuperior; they think they know mankind, that they are deceived by no one\nand can see deep down into men's souls; they call their method realism,\nand they look down with the greatest contempt upon poets who depict\ngood, unselfish, noble, in short, moral characters, and call them\noptimists, flirts, distillers of rosewater, who are either too silly or\ntoo dishonest to see the truth or to confess it. If realism happens to\nbe the fashion, the public believes these men who depict what is ugly\nand disgusting, admires them, is impressed by them, and scorns the\nidealists who have a better opinion of mankind.\n\nHowever, realism is onesided and exaggerated, and therefore just as far\nfrom the truth as enthusiastic idealism. It picks out certain\ncharacteristics of human nature, generalizes from them and neglects the\nothers, thereby libelling mankind. The same people who in their flat,\ninsipid daily life unhesitatingly indulge their poor little vanities,\ntheir na\u00efve selfishness, their childish jealousy, their secret\nsensuality and their moral cowardice because it is of no consequence,\nbecause it alters nothing in the general constitution of society,\nbecause the community takes good care that moral principles shall be\nmaintained, these same people can, on great occasions, which, however,\nseldom occur, reveal virtues which they themselves never suspected and\nwhich we gaze at in blank astonishment with reverent awe. The\nhypocritical Philistines of realistic literature, rotten at the core,\nwhen the _Titanic_ sank, during the plague in Manchuria, at the\nearthquake of Messina, in the mine disaster at Courri\u00e8res, and on Arctic\nand Antarctic expeditions, proved to be heroes who came very near to the\ntheatrical ideal of Morality, if they did not quite reach it. If one\ntakes the valet's point of view and observes man in his dressing-gown\nand slippers when he does not feel called upon to pull himself together,\none may very well form a poor opinion of him. But if one considers the\nactions of the community and dwells on the loftiest deeds of\nindividuals, one will no longer believe that the Morality of the present\ntime is inferior to that of any other age.\n\nThere is one phenomenon, though, which seems to prove that those who\ndeny moral progress are in the right, and that is war. This is indeed\nthe triumph of the beast in mankind, a bestial trampling under foot of\ncivilization, its principles, methods and aims, and it might be adduced\nas a crushing proof of the stagnation or retrogression of Morality that\nto this very day its horrors can devastate the earth, as they did\nhundreds and thousands of years ago, only to an incomparably greater\nextent, more cruelly and more thoroughly. But this, too, would be a\nfalse conclusion. It is certain that the men who take it upon themselves\nfreely, purposely and intentionally to make war are monsters; their\naction is a crime that cannot be expiated. Unhesitatingly they have\nrecourse to massacre, robbery, fire and all other horrors in order to\nsatisfy their devilish self-seeking which desires the fulfilment of\ntheir ambition, that is, of their self-love and vanity, which covets\nriches, increase of power, a ruling position and its privileges. These\nthey pursue either for themselves or for a family or caste, and they\npretend that they wish to defend their country from its enemies, to\nacquire new boundaries for it affording better protection than the old,\nto promote the development of the nation by getting fresh territory, to\nspread its civilization and secure a glorious future for it.\n\nNations, however, which allow their rulers to plunge them into a war of\naggression may be foolish and clumsy, but they need not be immoral. They\nare made drunk with phrases which appeal to their noblest feelings,\nwhich their government and its intellectual bailiffs pour out to them in\noverflowing measure; they believe the shameless lies which are told them\nboastfully; and this is undoubtedly a lamentable, mental weakness which\ndrew from Dante the bitter cry: \"Often one hears the people in their\nintoxication cry: 'Long live our death! Down with our life!'\" But having\nsimply accepted these preliminary ideas the people act with such\nMorality as one cannot forbear to admire. In a grand flight they rise\nsuperior to all thought of self, raise their feeling of joint\nresponsibility to the pitch of heroism and martyrdom, and gladly\nsacrifice to their duty to their neighbour and to the community their\npossessions, their comfort, their health and their lives. That is very\ngreat virtue whose subjective merit is no whit diminished by the fact\nthat it is manifested in a cause that is objectively unjust. And this\nvirtue on the part of nations which have been misled was never so\nwidespread or so real as now. The attitude of mercenaries who served the\nhighest bidder, the lack of ideals among the soldiers who followed\nforeign conquerors at whose command they tyrannized over nations who did\nnot concern them at all, the cynicism of the leaders who unhesitatingly\nwent over to the enemy and fought against their own country and people,\nthese are things that are not to be found nowadays and are almost\nunthinkable. No Napoleon of to-day could lead the men of W\u00fcrtemberg and\nBavaria to Spain and Russia, nor could an Elector of Hesse sell recruits\nto England for the conquest of North America; no Louis XIV could induce\na Bernard of Saxe-Weimar to fight his battles against German\nadversaries, no Constable of Bourbon ally himself with Spain against his\nnative France. Leonidas, once admired and praised as an exception, is\nto-day the rule. \"The guards who die but do not yield\" are to be found\non every battlefield nowadays.\n\nIn modern warfare a higher, more perfect Morality of the masses obtains\nthan was the case in the past. That war itself is the most immoral thing\ndoes not detract from the moral worth of those who are led and misled.\nThe masses lack insight and judgment, their understanding is not\nsufficiently developed to realize the bestiality of the rulers who put\nthem to such evil use; but the way they suppress their own feelings, the\nway their will controls their impulses, their social discipline, in\nshort, their Morality, is admirable. Moreover, the conscience of mankind\nrevolts more and more against the wickedness of war, and the best men of\nthe time are striving to bring the mutual relations of nations, like\nthose of individuals, within the jurisdiction of Law and Morality.\nMorality will doubtless at no distant date do away with war, as it has\nabolished human sacrifice, slavery, blood feuds, head hunting and\ncannibalism.\n\nNo phenomenon of individual worthlessness observed within a narrow\nsphere can detract from the fact that the community constantly improves.\nA pessimistic view of the development of Morality has no justification.\nProgress of civilization implies progress of Morality, its most\nimportant instrument in the work of adapting the race to the immutable\nconditions of its existence.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nTHE SANCTIONS OF MORALITY\n\n\nThe concept of Morality includes an idea of compulsion, of coercion. A\nvoice says to man: \"You must!\" or \"You may not!\" It commands him to do,\nor to refrain from doing, something. If he obeys, all is well; but if he\ntakes no notice of it, pays no heed to it, the question arises: \"What\nnow? Will the voice rest content with crying in the wilderness? Will it\nnot mind speaking to deaf ears? Will the refractory individual not\nsuffer for disregarding it, or has it means to enforce obedience, and\nwhat are these means?\"\n\nThe answer to this question depends on what view one holds as to the\nnature of this monitory, warning, commanding voice. Whoever believes in\nKant's categorical imperative must admit that this word of command is\ndenuded of all power of coercion and must absolutely rely on the good\nwill of the individual in whose soul it makes itself heard. According to\nKant the moral law aims at no extraneous result, no utility. It is its\nown aim and object. But its own aim is fulfilled as soon as the\ncategorical imperative has spoken, whether the individual acts in\naccordance with it or not. It has therefore in principle no sanction.\n\nTrue, Kant contradicts himself, for after having sternly excluded from\nhis doctrine all utility as the end of Morality, all trace of feeling\nfrom moral action, he smuggles blissful happiness in by a back door; the\nresult of submission to the moral law and its dutiful fulfilment, he\ndeclares, will be bliss. Bliss, however you interpret it, is a\npleasurable emotion. Whether you act morally with the declared intention\nof attaining the pleasurable emotion of bliss, or whether this\npleasurable emotion comes of its own accord as an undesired reward when\nyou have acted morally merely from a feeling of duty, without a thought\nfor such a result, without a wish to attain it, it makes no difference\nto the fact that moral action actually meets with a reward. Kant does\nnot openly promise this, but with a wink he whispers in your ear that\nthere is a prospect of it.\n\nNor does it alter the further fact that Kant, having contemptuously\nexpelled Eud\u00e6monism from his system, reinstates it with full honours.\nOnce it has been conceded that moral conduct makes man blissful, in\nother words gives him a reward, the categorical imperative also has a\nsanction, albeit a very insufficient one. He who fulfils the moral law\nattains bliss; that is a spur whether you admit it or not. But he who\ndoes not fulfil it loses this advantage, otherwise, however, nothing\nhappens to him. The sanction, therefore, is onesided. A reward is\noffered for the fulfilment of the moral law, but there is no punishment\nfor its non-fulfilment. For it is no penalty if bliss is withheld from\nhim who has no conception of it and no desire for it. No matter, then,\nif the moral law be eternal and immutable as the stars above us, if it\nbe categorical, if it be fulfilled, not owing to a conception of its\neffect, not from liking for this effect, but from an inner necessity, it\nceases to be a living force for mankind or to have any practical\nsignificance; for the single thread which unites it with human\nfeelings--the whispered, vague promise of bliss--is too thin. Feeling\nwhich has no knowledge of this misty bliss, and therefore no yearning\nfor it, is uninfluenced by the categorical moral law. Reason is not\nnecessarily convinced that it is right and valid. The moral law abides\nlike the stars with which it is arbitrarily compared, itself a star in\nairless space, pursuing its course regardless of humanity, having no\nrelation to it or connexion with it; regard for or disregard of the\nmoral law makes no perceptible difference, and it ceases to have any but\na kind of astronomical interest for mankind, a purely theoretical\ninterest for purposes of scientific observation and calculation, and is\nin no way applicable to the feelings, thoughts and actions of men.\n\nTheological Morality adopts a widely different point of view. Its logic\ncompels it to provide the most effective sanctions. God is the lawgiver\nof Morality. He prescribes with dictatorial omniscience what is good,\nwhat is bad, what should be practised and what avoided. Obedience earns\na glorious reward, revolt entails the most terrible punishment. Reward\nand punishment are eternal, or may in certain circumstances be so, and\nthis, by the way, is cruelty which ill accords with the universal\ngoodness ascribed to God. For human understanding will never be\npersuaded, will never be able to grasp, that a sinner, however grave\nand numerous his sins committed during the brief period of the fleeting\nlife of man, can ever deserve an eternity of the most fearful\npunishment. The lack of proportion between the deed and the penalty is\nso monstrous that it is felt to be the gravest injustice, against which\nboth Reason and feeling revolt. Imagination can conceive hell fire that\nlasts a certain time and has an aim, like life with its praiseworthy and\nwicked deeds, but it boggles at the idea of a hell from which there is\nno escape and the agonies of which are endless.\n\nThe Old Testament conceives the sanctions of the moral law enunciated by\nGod in a thoroughly realistic manner. Fulfil the commandment \"that thy\ndays may be long in the land.\" If you disobey, the curse of the Lord\nwill be on you and you will be pursued by His anger unto the fourth\ngeneration. Christianity considered it dubious to make this life the\nscene of reward and punishment. It is imprudent to let divine justice\nrule here below, so to say, in public, before an audience and\nrepresentatives of the Press who attentively follow the proceedings,\nwatch all its details, and can judge whether the verdict is put into\nexecution. Prudence demands that the trial should take place in the next\nworld, where it is protected from annoying curiosity. Mocking onlookers\ncannot then observe that it is only in the dramas of noble-minded poets\nthat in the last act vice is inevitably punished and virtue rewarded,\nwhile in real life only too often merit starves, suffers humiliation and\npoverty and altogether leads a miserable existence, while sin flourishes\nin an objectionable manner and to the very end revels in all the good\nthings of this earth. However, the religious moralists painted such a\nvivid and arresting picture of what awaits the sinners in the next\nworld, that if men had not been obdurate in their disbelief they must\nhave shudderingly realized it, as if it actually happened in this world.\nWords from the pulpit admonishing men to obey God's law under penalty of\nmost terrible punishment were greatly emphasized by the paintings and\nsculpture over the altars and the church doors, where all the tortures\nof hell were depicted by great artists who put all their imagination and\nall their genius into the work.\n\nAs innumerable people have testified, these representations were taken\nso literally, not only by the simple-minded masses but also by the more\nhighly educated, that they were haunted by them, waking and sleeping,\nand imagined that in their own flesh they felt the torture of flames, of\nboiling pitch, of the prick of the pitchfork as the devil turned them on\nthe grid, of the teeth with which the spirits of hell tore their flesh\nfrom their bones. The fear of hell poisoned many a life up till quite\nrecently, especially in Scotland, and kept people in a constant state of\nagitation and anguish which occasionally rose to mad despair. It is\nremarkable that only punishment was so impressively held up to man's\nview, but not reward. Pictures of paradise are much less rich and varied\nthan those of hell, and its joys are peculiarly modest. The inventive\npowers of painters, sculptors, and poets did not rise above a\nbeautifully illuminated hall where the blessed are ranged around God's\nthrone and with folded hands sing hymns of praise to Him, while angels\nplay an accompaniment on trumpets and fiddles. A prayer meeting, a choir\nand a concert of music, that is all that Christian eschatology holds out\nas an eternal reward to virtue. It redounds to its credit that it\nassumes a sufficiently modest taste among the good to make them long for\nthese joys and find infinite happiness in them.\n\nIslam does not count on such moderation. The joys of paradise that it\npromises are so crudely sensual that they may well arouse lust in coarse\nnatures, and can counterbalance the fear of hell fire. The ideas of the\nreward of merit in the hereafter held by the northern nations, Germans\nand Scandinavians, are just as low and coarse. For the Mohamedans\nparadise is a harem; for the worshippers of Odin it is a pot-house where\nthere are free drinks and a jolly brawl to end up with. Heroes who fall\nin battle--they knew no virtues but a warlike spirit and contempt of\ndeath--enter Valhalla, where they partake of the everlasting orgies of\nthe gods, drink unlimited quantities of mead and beer, and fight for\nthem to their heart's content without taking any harm. The North\nAmerican Indians hope, after leading a model life, to be gathered to the\nGreat Spirit, and in the happy hunting grounds of heaven evermore to\nkill abundant game. Only Buddhism comforts the virtuous man with finer\nand more spiritual hopes. From out his world of weariness and pessimism\nit opens up the prospect of Nirvana to him, that is, of the end of all\nfeeling, which after all can only be painful, and of all thought, which\nafter all is only melancholy and despair, and of the volatilization of\nthe personality, the only real release; while it condemns the sinner to\nthe worst punishment, continued existence in ever new incarnations.\n\nThese are indeed extraordinarily vigorous sanctions, which, though they\nfail to have any effect on the unbeliever, make a very deep impression\non the believer, and are well fitted to determine his actions. But they\nimply a debasement of the motives for leading a moral life, which are no\nlonger the outcome of insight and a convinced desire for good, but the\nresult of fear and avidity, a speculation for profit, a prudent flight\nfrom danger. The practice of morality becomes a safe investment for the\nfather of a family who hopes to find his savings augmented by interest\nin the hereafter, and the avoidance of vice becomes a schoolboy's fear\nof punishment. Nevertheless, the view is widely held by superficial,\npractical men that these imaginary and deceptive sanctions of Morality\ncannot be dispensed with, that only the fear of hell can keep the masses\nfrom giving themselves up to every form of vice and crime, that only the\npromise of paradise is capable of inducing them to act unselfishly and\nmake sacrifices, and that all bonds of discipline would be loosened if\nthey ceased to believe in a last judgment and an hereafter with its\nrewards and punishments.\n\nThis whole system of sanctions in a future life is a transcendental\nprojection (according with primitive, childlike thought) of immanent\npractices and forms in the positive administration of justice which are\ntransferred to a class of actions that successfully evade it.\nTraditional and customary Law, as well as written Law, puts its whole\nemphasis on sanctions; it partakes itself of the nature of a sanction.\nWithout sanctions it has no meaning. It is not kindly counsel, nor\nfatherly admonition, nor wise advice, it is a stern command, it is\ncoercion, and this arouses only scorn if it is not armed with the means\nto make itself a reality to which the unwilling must also submit,\nbecause they cannot help themselves. There is no law, there can be no\nlaw, which is not supplemented by arrangements that make it binding for\neveryone.\n\nIn the British House of Commons it has been customary for many hundred\nyears to designate members as the representatives of their particular\nconstituency. Only if a member commits a grave offence against the rules\nof the House does he run the risk of the Speaker's calling him by name,\nbut this case has not arisen within the memory of man. A disrespectful\nIrish member of Parliament, urged by perverse curiosity, asked the\nSpeaker one day: \"What would happen if you called me by my name?\" The\nSpeaker thought for a short time and then answered with impressive\ngravity: \"I have no idea, but it must be something terrible.\" Such a\nmysterious threat of an unknown catastrophe may suffice for a picked\nassembly whose members would no doubt maintain order and observe all the\nrules of parliamentary decency, even if they were not held in check by\nthe fear of some dark danger. It would not be sufficient by a long way\nto guarantee the rule of Law in a society which includes individuals of\nthe most varied disposition, mind development, education and strength of\nimpulse.\n\nPositive Law, as I have shown, presents a very simplified excerpt of\nMorality for the use of coarser natures. It is a summary of the minimum\nof self-denial, consideration for one's fellow men, and the feeling of\njoint responsibility, the observance of which the community must\npitilessly demand from all its members if it is to continue to exist and\nnot fall back within a very short time into the state of Hobbes's war of\nall against all. The necessity of self-preservation makes it a duty for\nthe community to provide for the case that one of its members refuses to\naccept the minimum of discipline and to recognize the claims of another\npersonality. The community prevents this revolt, which would frustrate\nits aim and endanger its existence, by employing physical force to break\nall resistance to the Law which it must, for the common weal, impose on\nall its members. That is an extraneous compulsion that certainly has\nsomething brutal and unworthy of man about it and may well arouse\ndiscomfort in more highly developed minds. It would undoubtedly be more\ndignified and better if there were no need for the handcuffs of the\npolice, for prison cells and executioners, if man's own insight and the\nadmonition of his conscience were enough to constrain everyone to\nrespect the Law, that is, to practise a minimum of Morality.\n\nBut the community cannot wait until this stage of moral development has\nbeen generally attained. It refuses to entrust its existence to the\nspiritual purity of all its members. On principle it disregards\nprocesses in the consciousness of the individual--I have cited in an\nearlier chapter the few exceptions to this rule: investigation as to\npremeditation, accountability, freedom from undue influence--and keeps\nto actions which alone it judges. It declares itself incompetent to\npronounce sentence upon a \"storm inside a skull,\" to quote Victor Hugo.\nIts sphere is that of obvious facts. Not until subjective impulses and\ndecisions are manifested in outward form does it intervene with methods\nof the same order, with outward coercion. The sanctions of its law are\nmaterial, are punishments and fines. It hits the wrongdoer over the head\nand on his hands and forcibly empties his pockets. To look into his soul\nand set matters to rights there is a task undertaken much later by\nlaw-givers. It was only after they had remembered that the source of law\nis Morality and that its ultimate aim is not the bare attainment of a\nstate of mutual respect for one another's rights, but the education of\nthe community to a universal condition of self-discipline, consideration\nand neighbourly love, that the law-givers made a point not only of\nrequiting the bad man's misdeeds, but also of trying to elevate him\nmorally.\n\nAt different times, at different stages of civilization, and according\nto the current views of the universe, society has interpreted in\ndifferent ways the punishment it inflicts and which it carries out by\nforcible means, so as to ensure respect for its laws. Its original\ncharacter is that of revenge for an offence. The wrongdoer has offended\nthe community, it attacks him furiously and breaks every bone in his\nbody just as an angry individual would do in his first access of\nindignation. That is Draco's penal code. That is the law of literal\nrequital. The special characteristic of this sanction is its violence\nand lack of moderation. It does not trouble to find the right proportion\nbetween punishment and crime. It does not carefully and fairly weigh the\nforce of its blows. The club falls with a frightful crash, but its\ndynamical effect is not calculated beforehand in kilogrammetres. \"The\nstab of a knife is not measured,\" as an Italian proverb says. Thus\nconceived, punishment has something primitive about it, something\nintolerably barbarous. The community does the very things it was\ncreated, by Morality and Law, to prevent; it exercises the right of the\nstronger against the challenger; it promotes war, not that of all\nagainst all, but of all against one, and its punishment is an act of\nwar.\n\nIn a strongly religious society which lives in the idea of immediate\ncommunity with the deity, every transgression of the law is felt to be a\nsin against the gods, and the punishment becomes an expiation offered to\nthem so as to avert their dangerous anger from the commonwealth. In the\nadministration of justice dim religious ideas are mingled, punishment is\ntinged with a veneer of civilization, the culprit is, so to speak,\noffered as a sacrifice to the gods. This supernatural view was prolonged\nby the Inquisition, at least for a certain class of offences, until\nalmost modern times.\n\nWhen society awakens to the consciousness that its bond of union is\nMorality, and that its most important task is to educate its members in\nMorality, it introduces the concept of betterment into its penal system.\nIt wants not only to punish the wrongdoer sharply but also to transform\nhim inwardly and purify him. He is to feel that the punishment is not\nonly a requital but a mental benefit. In the Austrian army, until\ncorporal punishment was abolished, it was a rule that the soldier, after\nbeing flogged, should approach the officer on duty and say, as he\nsaluted, \"I thank you for the kind punishment.\" That is the attitude\nthat society, when it gives a moralizing tendency to its penal laws,\nwishes the person who has been punished to attain. In this there is much\npleasing self-deception not unmixed with a good deal of hypocrisy. Penal\nlaw offers the wrongdoer but little scope for improvement.\n\nAll misdemeanours and crimes flow from three sources: ignorance, passion\nand innate, anti-social self-seeking. Ignorance is the main, almost the\nexclusive cause of wrongdoing among young criminals who have been badly\nbrought up or neglected, who have never had anything but bad examples\nbefore them, and who cannot distinguish between good and evil. Society\nmay hope to improve these by right treatment; it must not punish, it\nmust educate them. Men who commit crimes from passion are those who\npossess a consciousness of Morality and a conscience, who know quite\nwell what is right and what wrong, but have not sufficient strength of\ncharacter, that is, not an adequately developed power of inhibition, to\nresist an opportunity, a temptation, a turmoil of their instincts. To\nwant to improve them is senseless, for they are not bad; they are weak,\nor at any rate not strong enough. What they need is a strengthening of\ntheir character, of their faculty of inhibition, and to achieve this is\nbeyond the power of society. All it can do is to humiliate the guilty\nparty by publicly exposing his lapse and by condemning him, and then\ngrant a delay of the execution of the sentence. In so doing it says to\nhim: \"You have acted basely and ought to be ashamed of yourself, now go\nand do not do it again.\" If the warning is unavailing and he relapses,\nthen the earlier sentence, as well as the new one, is executed. Fear of\nthis is added to his motives for acting honestly, and may possibly\nstrengthen his resistance to the onslaught of his evil instincts. But\nhis good conduct will always be at stake in the struggle between his\npower of inhibition and his instincts, and the stronger of the two will\nalways carry the day. And finally, upon the man whose organic\ndisposition makes him anti-social, upon Lombroso's born criminal,\nsociety can have no educative effect whatever. It is a hopeless case.\nSociety can render him harmless, it cannot alter him. Consideration for\nhis neighbour will never find a place in his consciousness. He will\nnever learn to resist his impulses and desires. His spiritual\ninsensibility makes him indifferent to the sufferings of others.\nIncapable of continuous and equable effort, he will always want to prey\non society by begging, deceiving, stealing and robbing. He has no\nconscience and does not hear the voice of society in his mind. He knows\nnothing of good and evil, which are both empty phrases for him, words\nwithout any meaning, and he is convinced that he acts rightly every time\nhe seeks to satisfy his appetites. In his case it is love's labour lost\nto try and give a moral meaning to the sanctions of the law. Punishment\nis not directed against the soul of the born criminal, only against his\nbody. It overwhelms him, fetters him and makes him either for the time\nbeing, or permanently, harmless; but his organic tendency continues to\nsway him, and whenever he recovers his liberty he is the same as before\nhe was punished.\n\nThe Mystics give to punishment the character of fatherly and chastening\ndiscipline by which the sinner expiates his crime and is purged of the\nsin; thus it purifies him and leads him back to the state of innocence;\na kind of anticipatory hell fire which enables him to enter paradise. In\n\"Gorgias\" Plato says explicitly: \"He who is punished is liberated from\nthe evil of his soul.\" And the Apostle Paul teaches us: \"Punishment is\nordained for the betterment of man.\" Criminal anthropology recognizes\nthat it is useless to expect this moralizing and redeeming effect from\npunishment. Lombroso altogether rejects punishment as a means of\ndiscipline and expiation, and before him Bentham and J. S. Mill, and\nsimultaneously with him and after him Fouill\u00e9e, Guyau and Maudsley\nadopted the same view. According to them the sanction of criminal law,\nwhich extends and completes it and ensures its efficacy, can have no\nother aim than the law itself, and this aim is to defend society against\nits active enemies, if possible by converting them, if necessary by\nforcible subjugation.\n\nIn a book which is full of interest, but whose value is considerably\ndiminished by a strong admixture of mysticism, \"Esquisse d'une morale\nsans obligation ni sanction,\" M. Guyau goes much farther than the\ncriminal anthropologists and sociological opponents of punishment, and\nexpresses the somewhat paradoxical view that \"the real sanction seems to\nimply complete freedom from punishment for the crime committed, as\npunishment for any action that has been accomplished is useless.\" It is\nquite correct that no punishment under the sun can undo what has been\ndone. But it is not feasible for that reason to dispense with all\npunishment for misdeeds and to call this systematic freedom from\npunishment a sanction. Guyau overlooks the fact that the punishment is\ndirected not to the crime but the perpetrator. It certainly alters\nnothing in a past transgression of the law, and that is not its object,\nbut it may possibly have the effect of preventing fresh misdeeds on the\npart of the same wrongdoer or of others, and that would justify it.\n\nIf society must renounce the idea of improving the misdemeanant,\nespecially the man whose organic tendencies make him a criminal and who\nis the most dangerous and commits the most numerous and worst crimes, it\nnevertheless assumes that it makes an impression on morally doubtful\ncharacters by punishing misdemeanours and crimes, that it warns them and\nprevents them from erring. That is the theory of intimidation, which\nalso has many opponents. It will hardly be denied that psychologically\nit is well founded. The conception of the evil consequences for himself\nthat his action may entail strengthens the impulsive man's power of\ninhibition when he is about to do wrong, and perhaps enables him to\novercome his immoral instinct. Only it is difficult to measure the force\nwhich the thought of punishment adds to the effort of inhibition. This\nforce does not come into question at all with the man who sins\noccasionally from passion. The flood of his impulses sweeps away all\nbarriers which reason may oppose, and their power of resistance is not\nmaterially increased by the fear of consequences, because the mental\nhorizon is completely darkened at the time of the storm and no prevision\nis possible. The criminal from organic causes exercises no inhibition.\nHe knows that society condemns his actions, but he is convinced of his\npersonal right to carry them out, and fears no punishment, because he\nhopes to escape it, and tries his utmost by means of planning, prudence\nand self-control to outwit society. The theory of intimidation is not\napplicable to these two classes of criminals, and they constitute a\nlarge proportion of the army of wrongdoers against which society has to\ndefend itself by force.\n\nBut there remains the great number of mediocre natures whose sympathy\nwith their fellow men, the emotional foundation of the subjective\nimpulse to Morality, is only slightly developed, who have a superficial\nveneer of Morality, who act honourably out of prudence, but who would\nfeel no repugnance towards perpetrating profitable misdeeds, if they\nwere certain that they would incur no risk. These insipid characters\nwhose emotional temperature oscillates round about freezing point and\nwho are incapable of great excitement, of passion, would see no reason\nto resist any temptation, to disregard any favourable opportunity, if\nthe penal code, the judge and the policeman did not warn them to be\ncareful. For this kind of man the penal sanction is really a useful and\nperhaps an indispensable means of prevention, and it has been thought\nout and developed by the community with a view to such people.\n\nNot content with theoretical considerations, people have also appealed\nto practical experience to test the theory of intimidation. In some\ncountries capital punishment was either legally abolished or tacitly\nsuppressed, the judges either refraining from pronouncing the sentence\non the prisoner or the head of the state, when appealed to, commuting it\nby an act of pardon to loss of liberty. Statistics seemed to show that\nserious crimes meriting the death penalty increased, and capital\npunishment was reintroduced or the practice of systematic pardons was\nabandoned, with the alleged result that the worst crimes grew less\nnumerous. I express myself doubtfully, because I do not think that the\nstatistics were sufficiently conclusive. They embraced too small a\nnumber of cases and too short a period of time. It cannot be\nconclusively proved that the abolition of the death penalty resulted in\nan increase of capital crimes; but it is certain that crimes were never\nmore frequent or more horrible than in the times when criminal justice\nwas most cruel and made use of the most terrible sanctions. Up to the\ndawn of modern times legal torture was administered, at every street\ncorner there were gallows, the poor wretch under sentence of death was\npinched with red-hot pincers, the executioner tore the flesh from his\nbones, poured boiling pitch over him, cut out his tongue, hacked off his\nhands, broke him on the wheel or burnt him alive; executions were a sort\nof public entertainment or popular holiday, and efforts were made to\nattract as many spectators as possible; every inhabitant of one of the\nlarger towns was familiar from childhood with the horrid spectacle of\nmutilated human bodies writhing in torture, and there rang in his ears\nthe echo of the screams of pain and of the shrill death rattle of the\nvictims. But these impressions were so far from intimidating the gaping\ncrowd that many hurried from the place of execution to commit the most\nexecrable crimes, the punishment of which they had just witnessed;\nconsequently punishments have gradually been made less cruel, and the\npublic is excluded from executions, which clearly indicates a decisive\nrejection of the theory of intimidation.\n\nThe truth is that the severity of the punishment has no effect upon the\nfrequency or the savagery of crimes. The criminality of a community\ndepends on the value and emphasis of the moral education which it\nbestows upon the rising generation. It can prevent its members, at any\nrate the average, normal type, from developing into criminals. But the\nfear of punishment has no deterrent effect upon those whose criminal\nimpulses have not been subjugated by social discipline. The severity of\nthe punishment does not contribute anything to the defence of society.\nIt only proves that the lawgiver and the criminal judges are on the\nlowest level of civilization which corresponds to a widespread and\nbarbarous criminality, and that their modes of thought and feeling are\nhorribly like those of the criminals whom they sentence to torture, the\ngallows, and the wheel.\n\nPositive law aims at defending society, and tries to attain its end by\npunishing transgressions. It provides no reward for conscientious\nobedience. The law has no honours to bestow on blamelessness and virtue.\nSociety felt the want of this and made attempts to encourage honourable\nconduct by conferring distinctions, just as it tries to intimidate vice\nby punishing crime. These attempts were not particularly happy. The\nbestowal of titles and orders is no recognition of virtue, but a means\nadopted by governments to ensure devotion to power. An arrangement was\nmade in some places to honour model citizens in public and crown them\nwith laurels, but it soon came to grief owing to indifference and\nmockery. A private individual wanted to fill this gap in social\ninstitutions. The Count of Montyon, a son of the eighteenth century,\nwhose philosophy he had imbibed, instituted the prizes for virtue which\nare distributed annually by the French Academy. They are bestowed on\nmodest integrity in humble circumstances which has manifested a sense of\nduty, neighbourly love and self-sacrifice. This friend of man has had\nfew imitators, and that is understandable. Sound common sense realizes\nthat rewards like the Montyon prizes for virtue do not with the\ninfallibility of a natural law fall to the lot of merit, but are nearly\nalways adjudicated to the prizewinner by chance, by recommendation, and\nby all sorts of influences that have nothing to do with virtue; and it\nseems unjust that among equal claims some should be satisfied while\nothers, the great majority, are not. It would be vain to contend that\none virtue which goes empty-handed is not unfairly treated when another\ngets a benefit on which it has not counted, and that in a moral\ncharacter, such as alone would be eligible for a prize for virtue, there\nis no room for envy. That would be the moral of the Gospel concerning\nthe labourers who came at the eleventh hour, which has met with\nopposition from others besides the contemporaries of Jesus.\n\nOn the whole, the community has never felt called upon to solve the\nmoral problem of the reward of virtue. It has always contented itself\nwith the punishment of vice and has given its law threatening, but not\nencouraging, sanctions. This attitude shows that it has always had a\nclear conception of its moral task. In its positive law it never\nincluded anything but that minimum of Morality that was absolutely\nnecessary to its existence, and without which it would dissolve into its\noriginal elements, its order would be replaced by chaos, by the war of\nall against all. It must insist on the observance of this minimum; it\nmust use forcible means to achieve this. But it does not feel justified\nin demanding more than this minimum, because more is not claimed by its\ninstinct of self-preservation. A surplus of virtue over and above the\namount necessary for the life of society is desirable; but it does not\nlie within the scope of the natural functions of the community,\ndetermined by its organic necessities, to achieve this by compulsion\nand the provision of legal rewards as an encouragement. It is the\nbusiness of the individual to work at his own moral improvement, and the\ncommunity cannot interfere directly in the matter. It is enough that it\nencourage this work indirectly by bestowing care on the culture and\neducation of the individual, by making it the duty of its public schools\nto inculcate good principles, and by creating a public opinion which\nsurrounds all the activities of higher morality with admiration, respect\nand gratitude. The moral education of the individual is not an object\nwith which laws are concerned; it is the result of the constant, vital\ninfluence of the community, and can have no sanction other than the\nincrease of well-being of every single person within the social union,\nwhich is a natural consequence of raising the moral level of the\ncommunity.\n\nThe penal sanctions of positive law have a gross materialism about them\ncorresponding to the definite concreteness of the actions with which\npositive law deals. The broad field of Morality, however, which is\noutside the narrow sphere of the laws, has no room for sanctions of a\nmaterial nature. The penalties prescribed by law are directed to actions\nwhich, if they became general, would in a very short space of time\nresult in the dissolution of society. The community essays by forcible\nmeasures to prevent this kind of action, and these measures more or less\nfulfil their aim, whether you interpret their use on the theory of\ndiscipline, of expiation and purification by repentance, of improvement\nand moral re-birth, or of intimidation. All these theories were invented\nlater on, after the community had been convinced by experience that\npunishment, if it does not entirely prevent crime, at least limits it\nsufficiently to make the continued existence of society possible, and\nmore or less to guarantee to its members the safety of their life, their\nproperty and their personal dignity.\n\nAgainst transgressions of the moral law, the results of which are not\nimmediately obvious, such as ruthless selfishness, blunted sympathy and\nlack of active neighbourly kindness, the community does not proceed with\nforcible measures; firstly, because it cannot establish their existence\nconvincingly and hence cannot try them in a court of justice, and\nsecondly, because it does not recognize them as constituting an\nimmediate danger to its existence. Now, as the sanctions set up by\nsociety are not applicable to these transgressions, an individual whose\nmind does not penetrate very far into matters is disquieted, for\naccustomed as he is to the spectacle of the steady justice of the state,\nhe seeks the counterpart in the forms of this justice in the world of\nMorality, and does not discover it at the first glance. He asks\nanxiously where are the police, the public prosecutor, the examining\nmagistrate, the criminal court, the prison for sins against Morality,\nand invents them, since he cannot find them. He transfers to the\nhereafter the sanctions of Morality, which are not visible on earth. He\ncannot make up his mind to renounce them, because the fact that sins\nagainst the moral law go unpunished would seem to him to indicate\nintolerable anarchy, comparable with the state of a community where\neveryone could murder, rob and mutilate to his heart's content without\nincurring the risk of the least personal unpleasantness.\n\nIn the sphere of the moral law punishment certainly does not follow hot\nfoot upon crime, but it nevertheless does not fail to appear, and\nbecomes visible when the eye is capable of embracing long periods of\ntime and of tracing intricate connexions. The sanctions of the moral law\ndiffer from those of criminal law, but they are not wanting. They are of\na subjective and of an objective character. The subjective punishment\nfor a sin against the laws of Morality is remorse. It is inflicted by\nthe inner judge who rules in the consciousness of the individual, by\nconscience, and penetrates to the very deepest depths of a person's mind\nwhich no outward punishment imposed by the community ever reaches. It is\nnot only religious and political martyrs who endure torture and death\nwith proud serenity, conscious that they are morally immeasurably\nsuperior to their executioners; even common criminals remain perfectly\nunmoved by their punishment and regret only that they are weaker than\ntheir captors. Prisons are full of convicts who look upon their\ncondition as that of prisoners of war. They have been worsted in their\nbattle with law. That seems to them a misfortune but not a disgrace.\nThey are neither humble nor contrite, but revengeful. They are\ndetermined and ready to take up the duel with society as soon as an\nopportunity offers and they may hope to do so with some prospect of\nsuccess.\n\nBut remorse is an unresisting submission to the verdict of conscience\nand the consciousness of one's own unworthiness. It is the recognition\nof the justice of the sentence which brands one, and the constant,\nanguished realization that one's personality has been deservedly\nhumiliated, dishonoured and deprived of its rights. As a spiritual\nprocess, remorse causes the sinner continually to relive the misdeed he\ncommitted, while at the same time he is fully conscious of its atrocity.\nThe ego becomes dual, one part active, the other watching and judging.\nThe one again and again perpetrates its misdeed, the other looks on\nhorrified and suffers agonies. It is one long torture and disgrace of\nself. Remorse condemns the sinner perpetually to repeat in his mind the\ndeed which fills him with horror of himself. This state of mind is the\nnearest approach to eternal damnation in hell. There is only one means\nof temporary escape: to extinguish memory by narcotics. That is why\nremorse not seldom leads to drunkenness. Shakespeare, with a poet's\ninfallible insight into the soul, has grasped and depicted the nature of\nremorse, the uninterrupted, torturing presence of the misdeed in man's\nconsciousness. Lady Macbeth sees her hands ever stained with the blood\nof the innocent royal victim whom she herself did not even murder, and\nshe complains that \"all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this\nlittle hand.\" Leontes, in the \"Winter's Tale,\" on hearing of Hermione's\nalleged death, of which he believes himself guilty, mourns:\n\n                            \"Once a day I'll visit\n  The chapel where they lie; and tears shed there\n  Shall be my recreation: so long as nature\n  Will bear up with this exercise, so long\n  I daily vow to use it.\"\n\nRemorse is the most effective of the subjective sanctions of Morality;\nit is almost too effective, for owing to its duration and severity the\npunishment easily grows disproportionate to the crime. But it has one\ngreat disadvantage, it affects only better natures who have an active\nconscience and spiritual delicacy, while it spares the wicked who have\nno conscience, who perpetrate their misdeeds contentedly, without a\nqualm, and regret them only when they are discovered and lead to\nunpleasantness.\n\nNevertheless, the actions of these hardened sinners do not go quite\nunpunished. Moral law always takes vengeance for transgressions, but not\ndirectly on the evildoer. In addition to the subjective, it also has an\nobjective sanction; when it is violated retribution falls on the\ncommunity. The masses have a dim idea that every evil deed meets with\nrequital and express it in the proverb that \"Though the mills of God\ngrind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small.\" They have noticed that\nthe curse of an evil deed never fails to come, and is consummated with\ncrushing force, only that it does not happen at once. It seems\nobjectionably unjust that the culprit should not feel the effect of his\ncrime, whilst others do who were not born when it was perpetrated. But\nthe concept of retributory justice is as little applicable to the\nfar-reaching relations in the life of humanity as to the actions of the\nlaws of Nature, for instance gravity or electricity. Morality is, as I\nhave shown, an adaptation of the species to the natural conditions in\nwhich it is forced to live. Morality, therefore, has an aim, which is to\nmake social life in common possible for the individual, this life alone\nenabling him to maintain his existence amid the conditions obtaining on\nthis earth. The discipline which Morality imposes on the individual\nleaves him a certain amount of free play. If he escapes from this\ndiscipline to a certain small extent which does not threaten the\nexistence of society, this revolt has no ill effect upon the life of the\nspecies, the latter has no grounds for punishing him, and the only, yet\nsufficient, sanction of the loose Morality of an undisciplined\nindividual lies in the fact that he is more or less inferior to the most\nperfect type of the species, and visibly bears the stamp of his\nworthlessness in his character, his bearing and his mode of thought. But\nif in his disregard of Morality the individual goes so far as to\nfrustrate its aim and endanger the existence of society, then the latter\nmust either find ways and means of rendering the culprit harmless or\nelse it overlooks his misdeed and thereby becomes an accessory and\njustly suffers the evils consequent upon a deterioration of Morals which\nis universally tolerated.\n\nThe means by which a society must defend the Morality necessary to its\nexistence can only be spiritual, for it is not a question of breaches of\nthe positive law which result in the intervention of justice and of\nmaterial penalties, but of a disregard of the commands of Morality,\nwhich are not drawn up in paragraphs. Public opinion suffices to rouse\nthe individual who despises the Moral law to an uncomfortable sense of\nhis unworthiness; if he finds himself treated with contempt and sees\ndisapproval and dislike in everyone's face, either he will be spurred\nto an effort to overcome his immoral instincts or his self-respect will\nsuffer from the universal contempt with which he meets; and this\nsuffering is his punishment, therefore it is the sanction of a breach of\nthe Moral law.\n\nIf public opinion does not keep careful and severe watch, such as may be\ntermed the function of a higher moral police, then inevitably the moral\ntone of the whole society will sink to a lower level, and this will\nresult in making life harder and more difficult, and in certain\ncircumstances may lead to dissolution. This is not a theoretical\nassumption, but an observed fact, a lesson taught by history. It tells\nus of epochs in which the licentiousness of individuals, favoured by a\nsociety too dull, weak and indifferent to stand up against bad examples,\nsucceeded in corrupting all classes. Such a period is exemplified by the\nfall of Rome. Common natures indulged and wallowed in every vice, the\nbetter ones felt such disgust for a life without nobility and virtue\nthat they discarded it, and the community lost all excuse of joint\nresponsibility and became so loosely knit together that it was incapable\nof common effort or sacrifice, and collapsed miserably at the first\nonslaught of a foreign aggressor tempted by its depravity.\n\nThe disintegration of a society, the sanction of its sins against\nMorality, is a slow process. It does not often take place\ncatastrophically, with theatrical effect, so that even a dull observer\ncan grasp the connexion between cause and effect. But whoever\ninvestigates closely will realize that all evils from which society\nsuffers, which make life more bitter and harder for its members, are\nultimately due to defective Morality. What are class struggles with\ntheir consequent hostilities between groups of the same nation, their\ncoercion and damage, but manifestations of self-seeking, lack of\nconsideration and injustice, that is, of Immorality? Would they be\npossible if members of all classes, capitalists and workers,\nagriculturists and townsmen, rulers and subjects were inspired by\nneighbourly kindness, understanding and appreciation of the needs,\npretensions and feelings of their opponents, and by a spirit of\nself-sacrifice? Would the decay of character, the arbitrariness and\narrogance of the mighty, the cowardly slavishness of the masses, with\nthe resultant rottenness of public affairs, be conceivable if\nindividuals were conscious of their dignity and their duty to themselves\nand the community, and if they had the strength and the determination to\novercome their fear of men? Could wars of aggression bring ruin upon\nmankind if leading personalities did not give way to the desire for\noutward honours, to the hunger for power, to avarice, to the itch of\nvanity, that is to the lowest forms of selfishness, and if the masses\nout of stupidity or fear of a mental effort, and out of dread for their\npersonal responsibility did not allow themselves to be misused for base\npurposes?\n\nThus we find insufficient Morality in individuals, or the complete lack\nof it, to be at the root of all evils with which the community is\nafflicted, and we are justified in conceiving war, party quarrels,\ncollisions between groups representing different interests, revolutions,\nin fact, all tragedies of life in societies with the suffering and\ndestruction they entail, as the penal sanction of sins against Morality.\nMorality, which was created to facilitate life for the individual or to\nmake it at all possible for him, is no longer able to fulfil its aim,\nand the society finds itself by its own fault back in the condition of\nmisery and fear, owing to which its instinct of self-preservation\noriginally forced it to make the effort of setting up the Moral law.\nEven the most merciless zealot cannot wish for a more efficacious and\npainful punishment of Immorality.\n\nBut Morality does not possess the sanction of punishment alone, it has\nalso the more amiable one of reward. We have seen that by strengthening\nthe faculty of inhibition it raises the individual to a higher level of\norganic development, that by the inculcation of consideration and\nneighbourly kindness it affords the community the possibility of working\ntogether peacefully and profitably. But it does more than that. It gives\nlife an incomparably higher value than when it is dull and uniform, by\nenriching and beautifying it with heroism and with ideals.\n\nIdeals and heroism are direct creations of Morality and inconceivable\nwithout it. The ideal is a conception of perfection; the thought of\nattaining it is accompanied by the most pleasurable emotions, and the\nindividual regards it as his life's task to strive for it. The struggle\nfor the ideal implies effort at all times, renunciation of the ease of a\nthoughtless and care-free existence, an endless series of difficult\nvictories over appetites clamouring for immediate satisfaction, that is,\nconstant work in the service of Morality. He who has an ideal is never\ntroubled by the problem of the meaning of life. His life has an aim and\nsignificance. He knows whither he goes, why he lives, for what he works.\nHe knows nothing of the doubts of the aimless wanderer, of the\ndiscouraging consciousness of one's own uselessness, and his assurance,\nhis conviction that his efforts are useful and worthy come very near to\nhappiness. Heroism is the noblest victory of a thinking and volitional\npersonality over selfishness; it is altruism which rises to\nself-sacrifice, the proud subjugation by Reason of the most primitive\nand powerful of all instincts, that of self-preservation. It is the\nhighest achievement of which Morality is capable. It is never developed\nfor the profit of an individual, but always for that of a community, for\na thought, for an ideal. His heroic conduct raises the hero out of the\nrut of his existence, liberates him from the trammels of his\nindividuality and enlarges this to represent a community, its longings,\nits resolutions, its determination. At the moment of his heroic action\nthe hero lives innumerable lives, the lives of all for whom he risks his\nown, and if death reaches him, it can destroy only his single person,\nbut cannot put an end to the dynamic activity of the community which is\nincluded in the hero, while he is magnificently elevated far above\nhimself. The faculty of forming an ideal of existence and activity, and\nof rising to the heights of heroism, is the royal reward of Morality\nwhich the perfect subjection of animal instincts to the rule of human\nReason has achieved. Its punishment for those retrograde individuals who\nnever learn to control their instinctive reflex actions is that they are\ndenied the sight of the glory of the ideal, that heroism is unknown and\nincomprehensible to them, that they lead their lives fettered and\nimprisoned, unconscious of any task, without prospect or exaltation, as\nif they dwelt in a cellar or in a dark dungeon. These are the sanctions\nof Morality. It has no others, nor does it need them.\n\nIn one passage of the book cited above Guyau makes the doubting remark:\n\"Who can tell us whether Morality is not ... at one and the same time a\nbeautiful and useful art? Perhaps it bewitches us and deceives us.\" Let\nus assume that it is an illusion. That would not detract from its value\nfor mankind. Is not all our knowledge of the world, is not our whole\nview of Nature an illusion? We are made conscious of the universe by its\nqualities, and these qualities are conferred on it by our senses. But\nall knowledge that we derive from our senses is an illusion. For the\nsenses do not convey reality to us, but the modifications which the\ninfluence of reality produces in our sense organs. The universe has\nneither sound nor colour nor scent. But we perceive it as sounding,\ncoloured and scented. These qualities we attribute to reality are\nillusions of our senses, but these illusions make up all the beauty of\nthe world which without them would be dumb, blind and without charm for\nus.\n\nLife for us is an unspeakably oppressive riddle. Has it an aim, and, if\nso, what? We do not know. All thought only leads to the conclusion: life\nis its own aim and end, we live for life's sake. And this conclusion is\nno solution of the problem. Then Morality appears, and not only makes\nlife easier and possible, but even shows us an aim, if not for\nuniversal, at least for individual life. That aim is the humanization of\nthe animal, the spiritualization of man, the exaltation and enrichment\nof the individual by means of sympathy, neighbourly kindness, a sense of\njoint responsibility, and the subjection of Instinct to Reason which, as\nfar as we know, is the noblest product of Nature. It is possible that\nMorality, which hides the eerie unintelligibility of life from us, is an\nillusion. Blessed be the illusion which makes life worth living.\n\n\n  Printed in England by Cassell & Company, Limited, London, E.C.4.\n  F17.122","title":"Morals and the Evolution of Man","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":74829}