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If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: A Vision of the Future - based on the Application of Ethical Principles - -Author: Jane Hume Clapperton - -Release Date: February 21, 2022 [eBook #67463] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from - images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VISION OF THE FUTURE *** - - - - - - A VISION OF THE FUTURE - - - _BY THE SAME AUTHOR._ - - Crown 8vo, 443 pp., price 8/6. - - - Scientific Meliorism and the Evolution of Happiness. - -“In the Author we recognize an advanced thinker of a rare and high -order.”—_Westminster Review._ - -“We earnestly advise all to read this admirable book.”—_Weekly -Despatch._ - - KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., LONDON. - - Crown 8vo, 207 pp., cheap edition 6_d._ - - - Margaret Dunmore or A Socialist Home. - -“The story in the life in _La Maison_ is very well told.”—_Literary -World._ - -“In the chapter on _Unselfish Love_ there are some sound and sensible -views which might well be adopted without waiting for the advent of The -Unitary Home.”—_Times._ - -“Decidedly entertaining.”—_Manchester Examiner._ - - SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO., LONDON. - - - - - A VISION OF THE FUTURE - BASED ON - THE APPLICATION OF ETHICAL PRINCIPLES - - - By - JANE HUME CLAPPERTON - AUTHOR OF “SCIENTIFIC MELIORISM”, “MARGARET DUNMORE”, ETC. - - “_HITCH YOUR WAGON TO A STAR_” - —_Emerson._ - - LONDON - SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO., LIMITED - PATERNOSTER SQUARE - - 1904 - - - - - TO MY FRIEND - GEORGE ARTHUR GASKELL - - - - - To the Reader - - -Social Problems are the chief interest and study of my life. - -In 1885 I published in London a work entitled _Scientific Meliorism and -the Evolution of Happiness_. - -The world of thought has acquired new knowledge since then; and many -social changes have occurred. The present volume is not a replica of -that work, although, as before, my aim has been to gather together the -currents of meliorism pursuing diverse courses throughout society and to -throw upon these the light of fresh knowledge gained by investigators of -economic and social science; and, above all, the light emanating from -philosophic thinkers who recognize that the path of improved outward -conditions, and the path of inward progress for man, lie parallel to -each other. It is my belief that in this dawning epoch of conscious -evolution man may, if he so chooses, push forward the actual life of -to-day and merge it into the ideal life of to-morrow. - -There has recently occurred a widespread commemoration of the birth of -that pure-souled American, who was pre-eminently a teacher of the ideal -life. This volume, I hope, will be read in America, and, to the memory -of Emerson I tender homage, while adopting his phrase, “_Hitch Your -Wagon to a Star_,” as the motto of my book. - -The toil of man’s daily life alas! is indeed as the straining and -jolting of a lumbering wagon,—it grovels, it wallows, it drags wearily, -and the soul of the wagoner soars not. - -But there are few thinkers who confront the great social question of the -hour as not the rescue of the submerged tenth merely, not the elevation -of the masses only, but the uplifting of _all Humanity_ to higher levels -in the scale of being. - -When the great process of social reform is animated and ruled by that -lofty aspiration, the lumbering wagon of toil will become a triumphal -chariot of moral and spiritual progress. - - JANE HUME CLAPPERTON. - - - - - Contents - - - CHAP. PAGE - Initial Chapter—HAPPINESS 1 - - - Part I—ECONOMICS IN MODERN LIFE - - I THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION 23 - - II ORGANIZED INDUSTRY 51 - - - Part II—THE PHYSIOLOGICAL ASPECTS OF THE SUBJECT - - I THE LAW OF POPULATION 79 - - II THE PROBLEM OF SEX 97 - - III EUGENICS OR STIRPICULTURE 114 - - IV MARRIAGE 131 - - V PARENTAGE 149 - - - Part III—ABNORMAL HUMANITY - - THE ELIMINATION OF CRIME 163 - - - Part IV—EVOLUTION OF THE EMOTIONS - - I THE SENTIMENTS OF INDIVIDUAL RIGHTS AND SOCIAL JUSTICE 185 - - II RAPACITY, PRIDE, LOVE OF PROPERTY 202 - - III PERSONAL JEALOUSY, NATIONAL PATRIOTISM 218 - - - Part V—EDUCATION, OR DIRECT TRAINING OF CHILDHOOD TO THE - CIVILIZED HABIT OF MIND 237 - - - Part VI—CONDITIONS IN AID OF HAPPY LIFE IN A DEVELOPING CIVILIZATION - - I THE NEEDS OF ADOLESCENCE 257 - - II DOMESTIC REFORM 268 - - - Part VII—RELIGION AND RELIGIOUS LIFE - - PRIMAL ELEMENTS IN HUMANITY’S EVOLUTION 287 - - - SUMMARY 319 - - - SYNOPSIS 325 - - - - - INITIAL CHAPTER - HAPPINESS - - The ultimate value of all effort is the production of happiness, - and objects excite our interest in so far as we believe them to - be conducive to that great and ultimate consummation of - existence—Happiness.—J. C. CHATTERJI. - - -The age in which we live is one of great activity and general movement. -We are passing out of the mindless, genetic, into the rational, -conscious epochs of evolution; and while, at every stage of human -history, right conduct depends objectively on relatively true thinking, -and subjectively, on good impulses, a transitional period such as the -present demands special efforts to attain to an adequate and clear -conception of the problems of life. - -If no correct philosophy of life comes to birth in the thinking centres -of our social organism, general conduct will continue harmful to many -and inimical to progress. - -How may the truth of a philosophy be tested? No better answer, I think, -can be given than that of Buddha, of whom it is chronicled that he said -in reference to a projected philosophy—“After observation and analysis -if it agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one -and all, then accept it and live up to it.” Our theory of life must -appeal to the developed reason of civilized man and carry a conviction -of its truth. Moreover, it must be all-embracing. Sectional aims and -aspirations will never suffice. The aim must be universal, i.e., -directed to the well-being of all mankind. - -In view of the question: “What is the primary object of human life?” two -significant facts are apparent. First, the perpetual aim, conscious or -instinctive, of man, as of all physical beings, is to compass the -satisfaction of his desires, viz., contentment. Second, however diverse -and conflicting may seem the opinions held by popular teachers on the -subject, there is nevertheless an essential unity. For all point to some -kind of happiness, in the present or future, for oneself, or others, for -individuals, or for the race, as the ultimate end of existence. - -A close observation of actual life—apart from theories of duty—reveals -incontestably that the instinct to seek pleasure and avoid pain is -universal and paramount. It is the general force ruling individual -conduct. A child shrinks from lessons and seeks play because the one -causes painful effort, the other gives pleasurable sensations, unless -there are the beginnings of an intellectual sense and the child is what -we call studious; in that case the sense of effort is overcome by the -pleasure of learning, and there is no unwillingness. Or when the -representative faculty is strong, the thought of a parent’s or teacher’s -approval may be so clear in the young mind as to make the future -happiness counterbalance the present effort. But it is always pleasure -at the moment, or pleasure in anticipation, or fear of punishment, viz., -avoidance of pain, that gives the stimulus to work. The human nature of -a tender mother is much the same. She hates to hear her offspring cry, -she loves to see them smile. She _seems_ to sacrifice herself to them, -but in reality it is not so; for her greatest pains and pleasures reach -her through them. Her personal desires, her dearest hopes, are centred -in her children. She is proud of their acquirements, ambitious for their -future, happy in their success. When she strives to check and discipline -them, it is because she dreads, for them and for herself, some baneful -consequences should she refrain. She does not act for a selfish end. Her -nature is more complex, far wider and deeper than the child’s; but her -action is essentially the same. She is avoiding painful and seeking -pleasurable sensations, present and future, for herself and her -children. - -Nor with the poor man is the position different. The pain of hunger or -the dread of hunger, for himself or those beings whom he loves, -stimulates to a life of continuous and wearing toil. If he submit to -present pain, it is that he may avoid remote pain, and secure the -satisfaction of his most pressing wants. - -The leisured classes are differently situated. With conditions of life -that place them above the struggle for subsistence, they seek enjoyment -according to individual character and tastes. Whatever interests the -mind and stirs the emotions pleasurably will be pursued. We speak of -this and that career as guided by genius, ambition, benevolence, and so -forth, but in every case these qualities of mind have pushed choice in -the direction which will gratify the individual. - -If we say goodness, not happiness, is the proper aim of life, we must -allow that goodness means the aiding to bring happiness to mankind. -Religions signifying less than this are unworthy the name of religion. -Now it is emphatically the good who keenly suffer in the midst of an -evil social state where poverty, misery and crime abound. It has been -truly said—“The contrast between the ideal and the actual of humanity -lies as a heavy weight upon all tender and reflective minds.” These -perceive that goodness, in their own case, has depended largely on the -conditions of their lives, while thousands of their fellow-creatures -have had little scope for goodness, because born and brought up in -degraded, vile conditions they had no power to escape from. It is no -consolation to the good to point to a future happy state and to -immortality for themselves. The actual is what concerns them. Their -feelings get no rest, their intellects surge with perpetual efforts to -conceive some means of radical reform, some method to secure more -goodness and more happiness for all, i.e. for every woman, man and -child, alive in the present day. - -Turning now to published opinions concerning the object of life, Carlyle -taught that conscientious work was the main business of civilized man. -“Be indifferent,” he cried, “alike to pleasure and pain; care only to do -work, honest, successful work (no futilities) in this hurly-burly -world.” He directed attention from abstract ideals of the future to the -actual life of the present, pointing out the miseries and shams of the -evil social state and powerfully inveighing against its corruptions. To -maintain an outward existence of active usefulness and an inward state -of quietism and stoicism was Carlyle’s conception of an individual’s -duty, but while there was to be no seeking for personal reward he -believed this course would result in blessedness, and blessedness meant -something purer, nobler, more desirable than happiness. If we take his -own history set forth in the _Reminiscences_ as carrying out this -theory, we find that in his case it broke down. He toiled and plodded, -doing successful work to the end of what appeared a noble, victorious -career, but the blessedness never came, or if it did, it was not nobler -and purer than happiness. It was a gloomy state, bankrupt of hope and -full of querulous, dissatisfied egotism. - -George Eliot gave us no theory of life in any of her works of genius. -The action of her influence is, however, unmistakeable. It was to -develop social and sympathetic feeling, to make individuals tolerant and -tender towards their fellows, judging none without due regard to his or -her surroundings. She has accustomed her thoughtful readers to the -scientific aspect of human nature and social life, to watch the manifold -relations between the two, the action and interaction of forces without -and within, and to see the continuity of causation along with the -reforming effect of ceaseless changes. The evolutional conception of -life underlies all her work. The pictures are realistic, there is no -false colouring and vain delusions, no perfection of character—but -aspiration, effort, broad humanity—and no perfect happiness attained. -She indicated, however, that the social state wants altering, and -readjustments there would conduce to nobler life and greater happiness. -She hoped for progress by gradual changes in the outward social system -and in inward human nature. “What I look to,” she once said, in -conversation with a friend, “is a time when the impulse to help our -fellows shall be as immediate and irresistible as that which I feel to -grasp” (and as she spoke she grasped the mantelpiece) “something firm if -I am falling.” Although George Eliot formulated no theory I conceive she -held the belief that happiness for all at all times is the object of -life, and to be arrived at, chiefly, through the development of the -altruistic or sympathetic side of human nature. - -Some writers teach that culture is most to be desired. The rapid growth -of wealth in this country has forced upwards in the social scale a class -of people destitute of culture and refinement. This class dominates -society and takes the lead in fashion. Luxury and ostentation are -everywhere prominent; extravagant modes of living prevail without the -comfort of the former simpler and more genial modes, and this is side by -side with poverty and destitution that do not decrease. Patronage, with -its demoralizing influence on both classes, is the most conspicuous bond -between the wealthy and the poor, and vulgarity of mind characterizes -the age. There is little to surprise us in the fact that gentle, refined -natures withdraw from public life into a narrow sphere, not necessarily -a selfish one, but a sphere bounded and circumscribed by their own -personal tastes and temperaments. Finding solace in intellectual -pursuits and a pure elevated enjoyment in the study of art and -literature, they adopt the theory that culture is the proper business of -man. Sweetness and light have been held up as the panacea for all the -ills of life and the “elevation of the masses” as the true social -progress. - -Other teachers, thinking less of intelligence than of moral sentiment, -point to perfection of character as the aim of life. They recognize the -marked diversity in human nature. Some intellects are slow and dull, -incapable of being kindled into fervour or brightened into swift -reflection, and culture for such is hopeless. But in God’s sight, -surely, all men are equal. Birds without song have brilliant plumage to -compensate the defect, and so with man. The “law of compensation” holds -throughout humanity they have said, and, for the most part, hearts are -deep and tender even when heads are dull. Our finest works of literature -and art may fail to give one pleasurable sensation for lack of the -special faculty to apprehend their beauty, but kindness makes the whole -world kin. When the noble, generous, sympathetic side of human nature is -appealed to there comes a quick response. Happiness is the aim of life, -but happiness implies excellence of character, the emotional and moral -elevation of all mankind. - -That Ruskin’s views were similar to the above we learn from his _Crown -of Wild Olive_. “Education,” he says there, “does not mean teaching -people to know what they do not know—it means teaching them to behave as -they do not behave. It is not teaching the youth of England the shape of -letters and the tricks of numbers, and then leaving them to turn their -arithmetic to roguery and their literature to lust. It is, on the -contrary, training them into the perfect exercise and kingly continence -of their body and souls by kindness, by watching, by warning, by precept -and by praise—but, above all, by example.” - -From the field of modern science there has come as yet no direct -teaching on the subject of life’s duties and purpose, but two of our -eminent scientists have thrown out hints that are important and -significant. The late Professor Huxley says of his own career: “The -objects I have had in view are briefly these—To promote the increase of -natural knowledge and forward the application of scientific method to -all problems of life—in the conviction that there is no alleviation for -the sufferings of mankind except veracity of thought and action and the -resolute facing of the world as it is when the garment of make-believe -by which pious hands have hidden its uglier features is stripped off.” -(_Methods and Results_, Essays by Thomas M. Huxley.) - -Professor Sir Oliver Lodge has stated that new paths of investigation -are opening up to science. Telepathy, clairvoyance and some other allied -psychic states have been tested and found in the range of actual fact. -They reveal qualities in man which although special to a few individuals -only, are latent it may be in all, and point to an unknown province of -nature to which man seems related independently of his five senses. It -becomes evident that by the “resolute facing of the world as it is,” -science is altering our conception of man’s existence and nature, and -extending our vista of his future. - -Positivist thinkers, who base their teaching on materialistic -philosophy, have bright anticipations for the human race, although ages -may elapse before the realization of their hopes; and the existence of -poverty and misery in our midst is fully recognized, graphically -described, and feelingly deplored. The exponents of Positivism are -eloquent, cultured, refined. We want a new religion, they say, and -without that, no rapid progress can be made. The public mind is all at -sea, floating in a chaos of unfixed beliefs, and to reach settled -convictions and formulate a creed is the crying need of our times. -Religion is a scheme of thought and life whereby the whole effort of -individual men and societies of men is concentrated in common and -reciprocal activity with reference to a Superior Being which men and -societies alike may serve. The Superior Being is collective humanity, -and men’s true business is to understand and seek to perfect human -nature and the social state. - -A marked feature of present-day French literature, we are told, is a -reaction of religious sentiment against the rule of scientific -naturalism, and religious sentiment dominates in the strangely pathetic -and fascinating journal of the Swiss author, Amiel, which has been -widely read. “To win true peace,” says Amiel, “a man needs to feel -himself in the right road, i.e., in order with God and the Universe. -This faith gives strength and calm. I have not got it. Sybarite and -dreamer,” so he addresses himself, “will you go on like this to the end -for ever, tossed backwards and forwards between duty and happiness, -incapable of choice and action? Is not life the test of our moral force? -Are not inward waverings temptations of the soul?” To the question—Will -all religions be suppressed by science? he replies: “All those that -start from a false conception of nature, certainly,” and adds -reflectively: “If the scientific conception of nature prove incapable of -bringing harmony to man, what will happen?” To which he answers: “We -shall have to build a moral city without God, without an immortality of -the soul.” Then, protesting against Emil de Laveleyes’ notion that -civilization could not last without belief in God and a future life, he -exclaims: “A belief is not true because it is useful; and it is truth -alone—scientific, established, proved and rational truth—which is -capable of satisfying now-a-days the awakened minds of all classes.” - -I have here presented what is only a meagre reflection of portions of -our mental atmosphere, but I know of no clearer, more definite thoughts -emanating from influential teachers calculated to throw light on the -great enigma of life. It may seem to my readers that on these mental -heights unanimity exists as little as on the lower planes of man’s -discordant impulses, his confused and conflicting actions. Clearly we -have no philosophy of life as groundwork to orderly personal and social -action, no religion of vital power to bind the nations in one, no moral -code adapted to the complexities of our social relations, and, above -all, no steady belief in a universal love to sweeten society from end to -end and create the requisite medium in which alone the nobler qualities -of human nature will bud and blossom. - -Nevertheless the diverse opinions held by the above thinkers are not -irreconcilable. Carlyle’s “blessedness” is the feeling of harmony with -the divine order of development in humanity and the universe, therefore -it is identical with Amiel’s “true peace.” The Positivists’ “Supreme -Being” is the perfected man whose endowments of sympathetic fellowship, -emotional sweetness, intellectual light, moral strength, kingly -continence of body and soul, and knowledge of truth are specialized and -pointed to by George Eliot, Ruskin, Huxley and others. All have simply -given expression to aspiration from the subjective side of their human -nature conformably to the evolutionary process within themselves, and -the attitude of mind produced thereby in each. Partial, but not -contradictory views, characterise those thinkings. Beneath superficial -differences there lurks a unanimous belief that harmony of life with -conditions—viz., happiness, is the legitimate _aim_ of life. A Humanity -steadily moving in a given direction may be infinitely varied in detail, -and since the correct philosophy of life must be a wide generalization -embracing all, we need not wonder at its slowness to appear. Modern -nationalities are only now emerging from the individualistic to pass -into the socialistic stage of industrial development. Our popular -writers and teachers, springing from a specialized class—not the main -body of the people—instinctively show their limitations by -individualistic or sectional modes of thought. Mark, for instance, the -insufficiency, nay, the pathetic absurdity of the thought—Culture will -cure the ills of life, in face of the fact that thousands in our midst -to-day possess no intellectual desires whatever, while the appetites -belonging to their physical nature which forms the very basis of life -have never been properly met and satisfied. - -In setting forth a definition of happiness we have to recognize the -marvellous complexity of human nature. We have to take into account not -only variations distinctive in, and native to, separate individuals, but -the gradations and variations within each individual arising from -progress, or the reverse, in his or her outward condition and inward -development. Contentment means the satisfaction of desire. But desire -may be directed to the physical plane, the emotional plane, the mental -plane, the spiritual plane. The harmony of all life is happiness, and -brings blessedness or peace. - -Having shown that practically infants, children, young men and women, -adults and old people of every social class are similarly engaged in -seeking happiness, each according to his tastes and tendencies -controlled by his personal, social and spiritual development; having -shown also that thinkers and writers offer no condemnation, I proceed to -point out that this universal habit is in harmony with evolution. It -tends to personal evolution, i.e., to expansion and elevation of -character and capacities. Moreover, it tells favourably on general life. -It tends to social evolution, i.e., to expansion and elevation of the -social organism or collective society so long as the method pursued by -each individual is unhurtful to the other organic units incorporated in -that society. - -To seek to attain happiness at the expense of other human beings whose -happiness is thereby sacrificed, is of course evil. It is anti-social, -or vicious, i.e., it is wholly adverse to personal evolution and social -evolution, in other words, to general progress. But given a society that -has carefully surrounded its units by conditions of personal freedom -(harmonious with general well-being) in which to seek innocent -happiness, the normal man or woman on a level with the average of his -race is not in any danger of preferring the vicious course. - -That we confuse a wholesome love of pleasure with selfishness arises -from the fact that individual selfishness unhappily is developed by our -present evil system of life. Notwithstanding, it is easy to show the -real value of pleasure by its ready alliance with unselfishness. A -significant feature is this—people take pleasure in uniting for -pleasure. Sensuous pleasures are taken as a rule, socially, it being -recognized that to civilized man the presence of the enjoyment of others -enhances his personal enjoyment. The physiological effect of pleasure is -to promote health and activity. “Every pleasure raises the tide of life; -every pain lowers the tide of life,” says Herbert Spencer. The pleasures -of love are essentially and pre-eminently invigorating and social. It is -only when they are selfishly pursued that evil creeps in, and what -should produce the purest happiness becomes degraded into a source of -misery. - -It seems hardly necessary to point out further that asceticism and -purism are immoral because directed against an element in happiness. -Whenever science finds out means to alleviate suffering or free the -condition of pleasure from accidental accompaniments that are evil, it -is clearly the duty of man to hail the discovery and apply it that he -may add to the sum of human happiness. - -Before touching on environment, i.e., the social condition under which -alone general happiness becomes possible, I may classify desires into -primary and secondary in order to make the subject clearer. Primary -desires are those common to all physical beings, the satisfaction of -which (in man) is necessary to healthful ordinary social life. Secondary -desires are those whose satisfaction is necessary to some individuals, -but not to all. - -Desires for food, clothing, shelter, also for work alternating with -rest, and for love, belong to the first class. They are primary and -fundamental. But desires that imply a development of cultured intellect, -of delicate sensibilities, of high moral and emotional attainments, of -aesthetic tastes, and of spiritual life are secondary desires, i.e., -they are not common to all at the present stage of the evolution of man. -That they may become so is devoutly to be desired; but if we expect to -reach a high standard of life in the social organism without first -securing for its individual units the satisfaction of primary needs, we -indulge a vain delusion. Does a tree throw out fruitful branches before -it is rooted in the soil at its base? Development depends on the -satisfaction of primary needs, and proportionally to these being made -secure will the satisfaction of the higher desires become necessary to -happiness. - -Now in relation to primary needs, the conditions which it is the duty of -society as a whole to secure for the individual are, first: Freedom to -act for the end of securing satisfaction of desire; second, opportunity -for acquiring the means of satisfaction; third, ability to adopt the -means; fourth, protection of life and action. And these conditions have -a wide implication. The first implies some control of individual conduct -as regards propagation, that each social unit may possess a sound -constitution and the comfort of physical health. The second implies -access to nature. The third implies education to give knowledge and -skill. The fourth implies an organized society with an appropriate, -scientifically arranged system of industry. - -That our present confused industrial and social system—the survival of -an archaic state—is inimical to happiness, few thinkers will deny. -Discontent is not confined to the poor. Where wealth abounds there is -little, if any, real happiness. “The towers of Westminster,” says Edward -Carpenter, “stand up by the river, and within, the supposed rulers -contend and argue.... The long lines of princely mansions stretch -through Belgravia and Kensington; lines of carriages crowd the park; -there are clubs and literary cliques and entertainments, but of the -voice of human joy there is scarcely a note.... And I saw the many -menacing, evil faces, creeping, insincere worm-faces, faces with noses -ever on the trail, hunting blankly and always for gain; faces of stolid -conceit, of puckered propriety, of slobbering vanity, of damned -assurance. - -“O faces, whither, whither are you going? - -“No God, no truth, no justice, and under it all no love. - -“O the deep, deep hunger! - -“The mean life all around, the wolfish eyes, the mere struggle for -existence, as of man starving on a raft at sea—no room for anything -more. - -“O the deep, deep hunger of love.” - -This picture of the degradation and misery of rich and poor alike is -essentially true to fact. Our collective life does not supply the -necessary conditions for real happiness in any section of the community; -and nothing less than a reconstruction of society and regeneration of -its life will suffice to meet the wants of humanity. Immense efforts are -put forth in philanthropy and benevolence. Enormous energy is expended -in partial or sectional reforms; for quite correctly has it been said -that “Reform tends to run on a single rail, the majority of people -refusing to study society as an organism of organisms resting on -biological law.” (John M. Robertson.) We make no attempt as yet, to -prevent waste of energy, to focus the factors of meliorism, to mass -them, to direct them straight to the causes of evil and apply them -effectively there—and that, because we have no carefully constructed -scheme of thought and life whereby the whole effort of individual men -and societies of men is concentrated in common and reciprocal activity -to the end of creating happiness for all. - -Social regeneration is necessarily of a two-fold character, embracing -action without and action within. The first—which I call objective, -signifies collective action on the physical plane adapted to promote and -sustain the healthful, happy vitality of a race expected to grow -steadily and uniformly in physical, mental, moral and spiritual -elevation. The second, which I call subjective, signifies collective -action directed to the repression of all the unsocial desires of -man—those selfish emotions and narrow affections that alloy the mental -and moral structure of human beings and render it impossible to develop -the spiritual side of Humanity. The Darwinian laws—supposed by many to -be still applicable to man—had relation, not to happiness, but to the -preservation of life and the continuance of the race in the genetic, -unconscious period of evolution. It is in the conscious period or stage -of evolution that happiness evolves. Our present system of social life, -if system it can be called, is a chaos of conflicting interests, duties, -thoughts, feelings, actions—a prison-house in which the finer qualities -and attributes of man can scarcely exist. - -Let us put forth all our strength to create out of this chaos “the -garden in which we may walk.” Let us break down the walls of our -prison-house till it “opens at length on the sunlit world and the winds -of heaven.” (Edward Carpenter.) - - - - - _PART I_ - ECONOMICS IN MODERN LIFE - - -The only safety of nations lies in removing the unearned increments of -income from the possessing classes and adding them to the wage-income of -the working classes or to the public income in order that they may be -spent in raising the standard of consumption.—J. A. HOBSON, -_Contemporary Review_, _August, 1902_. - - - - - CHAPTER I - THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION - - It is a leading thought in modern philosophy that in its process of - development, each institution tends to cancel itself. The special - function is born out of social necessities; its progress is determined - by attractions or repulsions which arise in society, producing a - certain effect which tends to negate the original function.—WILLIAM - CLARKE. - - -If we view the physical aspects of existence in relation to happiness, -it is obvious that the satisfaction of desires for food, clothing and -shelter stands first in order of urgency in the life of nations. - -That modern nationalities are very far from the attainment of this -satisfaction of primary wants is lamentably evident to the eye of -observers who examine the conditions in which the great majority of -their members live. Food to the mass of the people is excessively dear. -In order to buy it for his family, a workman has often to spend -two-thirds of his weekly wage, leaving one-third only to meet the cost -of shelter and clothing, and nothing at all for recreation and -instruction. - -If we add to this difficulty of satisfying the primary needs of a family -on average wages, the frequent lack of employment with the consequent -lack of any weekly income at all, and the prevalence of low wages, -rightly termed starvation-wages, we have before us a picture of the -utter inadequacy of our present industrial system to subserve general -well-being. - -It is necessary to understand something of our present industrial -system, its foundations and evolution in the past, if we are to forecast -the changes that will occur in the immediate future, when the -fast-growing recognition of its manifold failings must inevitably bring -about a different order of industry. Private property in land and in -other essentials for the production of food, shelter, clothing, etc., -lies at the basis of the present system; and since the direct object of -private proprietors is not to satisfy the primary needs of the people, -but to create individual profits, we cannot wonder that a system thus -motived by selfishness works out in a miserable and wholly imperfect -manner. - -The industrial class may be broadly divided into two sections, employers -and employed, while a few highly skilled workers, members of the -professions of law, medicine, arts, letters, and science stand in a -measure outside this category. Landlords and shareholders as such are an -idle section of the community. They absorb the labour of a multitude of -workers, while giving no personal service in return. Quite truly has it -been said: “The modern form of private property is simply a legal claim -to take year by year a share of the produce of the national industry -without working for it.” (_Fabian Essays_, page 26). - -In comparing past forms with the present forms of industry, a -distinguishing feature of the latter is the number of great factories -where workers toil long hours, usually in the tending of machines, to -turn out for the private profit of their employers, vast quantities of -goods destined for retail distribution all over the world. The large -organizations of industry, so familiar to us, are of quite recent -growth, and already show signs of a coming change as sweeping in its -scope as any changes that have occurred in the past. Yet to listen to -the expression of opinions that prevail in literary and upper class -circles, one would suppose we had reached finality in our social system, -and that the conventional tributes paid to proprietors of land and -capital in the shape of rent and interest would, as a matter of course, -remain legal to the end of time. - -Now let us glance at the history of the past. For two centuries after -the Norman conquest, intestine war and feudal oppressions embittered the -life of the British labourer. He might be called from the plough at any -moment to take up arms in his master’s quarrel, and if he sowed seed and -saw his fields ripen, the harvest of his hopes might still be cut down -by the sword of the forager, or trodden by the hoof of the war-horse. He -was bondsman and slave, defenceless in the hands of the lords of the -soil, who at best, protected him only in the barest necessities of a -scanty livelihood—a hut without a chimney, its furniture a great brass -pot and a bed valued at a few shillings. (Wade’s _History of the Working -Classes_.) A change for the better came after the plague of 1348, and, -when by perpetual warfare with France, men had become more valuable -through diminution of their number. - -King Edward the Third freed the bondsmen to recruit his armies, and -enforced villeinry service was exchanged for service paid by -wages—these, however, were ordinarily fixed by statute. In the middle of -the eighteenth century wages stood at the ratio of about a bushel and a -half of wheat for one week’s labour; by the middle of the nineteenth -century they had fallen to what could only purchase one bushel of wheat. -(_Threading my Way_, R. D. Owen, p. 220.) The cause of this change was -that meanwhile, two clever men—Arkwright and Watt—had made discoveries -which gave an impetus to industry beyond all previous experience. -Mechanical aids to production were invented, and the consequent -cheapening of products created more and more demand. Machinery and human -labour side by side were under stress and strain to meet the call of new -desires. Cotton and wool and flax were woven into fabrics and poured out -of Great Britain to every quarter of the globe; capital was amassed, and -wealthy capitalists bid against each other for more labour still. -Agriculturists flocked into towns, factories sprang up in all -directions, population rapidly increased, and children were sucked into -the industrial maelstrom, for health and happiness were in no way -considered when remunerative work was offered. - -Outwardly the British world had altered. Internal warfare had passed -away, and the war-horse was no longer visible in harvest-fields. The -scene now presents a resemblance to a huge hive of bees industriously -secreting and amassing honey for future use. Great Britain has assumed -beyond her own shores a foremost place among civilized nations. The -resources of her newly-created wealth seem boundless, and everywhere her -power is felt. She can thin the ranks of her population, and swell her -army to conquer and suppress the tyrant Napoleon, while keeping at work -the enormous leviathan of her own trade and commerce by the deft fingers -of her little children. Summer and winter find her tiny bees—infants of -seven or eight—at labour in the factories from six a.m. to noon. One -hour for dinner is allowed, and they toil on once more till eight -o’clock at night. - -Were these, then, the “good old times” of which we are proud? At all -events they _were_ the times in which England’s greatness was -established and vast fortunes were built up, founded upon the industry -of young children sweating in factories for thirteen hours a day. - -“It was not in exceptional cases,” wrote Robert Dale Owen, when on a -tour of inspection of factories with his father in 1815, “but as a rule, -that we found children of ten years old worked regularly fourteen hours -a day, with but half an hour’s interval for the midday meal, eaten in -the factory.” In the fine yarn cotton mills, the “temperature usually -exceeded 75 degrees,” and in all factories the atmosphere was more or -less injurious to the lungs. In some cases “greed of gain had impelled -mill-owners to still greater extremes of inhumanity, utterly disgraceful -to a civilized nation.” Their mills were run fifteen, sometimes sixteen, -hours a day, and children were employed even under the age of eight. “In -some large factories, from one-fourth to one-fifth of the children were -cripples or otherwise deformed. Most of the overseers openly carried -stout leather thongs, and frequently we saw even the youngest children -severely beaten.” (_Threading my Way_, p. 102.) At that period Robert -Owen the elder expressed himself thus to the Earl of Liverpool: “It -would be clearly unjust to blame manufacturers for practices with which -they have been familiar from childhood, or to suppose that they have -less humanity than any other class of men.” The system was what Robert -Owen condemned, and he strained every nerve to bring about some -alterations in the system. He wrote and spoke and agitated for the -protection of children by law, and for their compulsory education, and -he publicly exposed the ghastly evils that spring from competition -unchecked by law, while left free to regulate itself at any amount of -cost to life, health, and happiness. - -After the lapse of about four years, the first point aimed at by Robert -Owen was gained, and infants became protected by statute from gross -oppression. His second point was gained in 1870, when the Government -Bill for National Education was passed. And ever since the period of -that noble, unselfish life, minds have everywhere been awakening to the -truth of his third point, viz., that frightful evils inalienably belong -to free industrial competition. - -Owen proved that in the year 1816, the machine-saved labour in producing -English fabrics—cotton, woollen, flax, and silk—exceeded the work which -two hundred million of operatives could have turned out previous to the -year 1760. (_Threading my Way_, p. 218.) The world was richer then to -the extent of all this enormous producing power—a power, he thought, -surely sent down from Heaven to set man free from the ancient curse that -in the sweat of his brow should he eat bread. But what were the actual -facts? There was no respite from toil for the workers, no freedom from -the curse! Throughout the old and new world, senseless machinery -competed with the living sons of toil, or, as Robert Owen expressed it, -“a contest goes on between wood and iron on the one hand, human thews -and sinews on the other—a dreadful contest, at which humanity shudders, -and reason turns astonished away.” (_Threading my Way_, p. 218.) The -problem presented was this: A recent rapid growth of wealth had enriched -the few and left many in misery; nay more, it had lowered and pressed -down the many to depths of degradation previously unknown. Were there no -means by which mankind could _unitedly_ work for the benefit of all, and -all be made happy as the world grew richer? Political Economy suggested -none, and Robert Owen turned from its futile study to that of the facts -themselves. He was a manufacturer, in sympathy with employers as well as -with employed. He had every opportunity for a practical understanding of -the interests involved, and he gave years to the study of this question -in a spirit of keen inquiry and ardent devotion to the cause. His -ultimate conclusion was that in _some form of socialism alone_ could a -remedy for the existent evils of industrial life be found. - -Henceforth he laboured to give to the world an object lesson in -socialism. He embarked his fortune in bold experiments, which proved—as -in the case of New Harmony—financial failures. Into the details of these -failures I cannot now enter, nor have we to deal just yet with socialism -as a remedy. My present purpose is to show the origin and reality of the -evils inherent in the individualistic system of industry—evils on which -the argument for socialism is based. And I must reiterate the statement -made by John Stuart Mill in 1869, that the fundamental questions -relating to property, and to the best methods of production and -distribution—questions involved in socialism—require to be thoroughly -investigated. Mr. Mill’s opinion regarding socialism was that in some -future time communistic production might prove well-adapted to the wants -and the nature of man, but a high standard of moral and intellectual -education would first be necessary, and the passage to that state could -only be slow. - -Meanwhile the sufferings of the proletariat are as intense as in the -days of Robert Owen. The problem which absorbed his energies and wrecked -his fortunes remains as yet unsolved, and we, who live when a twentieth -century has been entered upon, are daily surrounded by a mass of workers -tied hand and foot by poverty and often weighed down by despair. And -this is the case, notwithstanding the lapse of a long intermediate -period of national prosperity; in spite, also, of the powers of science -to enlighten manual labour, the intellectual efforts to advance -education, and a boundless benevolence and sympathy ready to embrace all -mankind, and give happiness to all, were only the right means devised -wherewith to accomplish that end.[1] - -Footnote 1: - - In the _Scotsman_ of March 16, 1897, this paragraph occurs: “At the - meeting of Edinburgh Parish Council yesterday, it was stated that - pauperism is increasing, and pointed out that for the month ending - 15th ult. there was an increase of 114 applications for individuals - for relief, compared with the corresponding period last year!” - - It was stated by Mr. Rowntree (whose investigations of this subject - are widely known and respected) that one-fourth of the population of - Great Britain lives in poverty, either primary or secondary; while 52 - per cent. of the cases of primary poverty are due to the principal - wage-earner receiving too low a wage to maintain his family in - physical efficiency. (_Evening News_ Report, March 22, 1903.) - -Individual benevolence has failed, and that as completely as Robert -Owen’s socialism, to cope with general poverty, and the method of Poor -Laws has accomplished almost nothing. - -In Robert Owen’s day the evils described in factory life belonged -specially to Great Britain. That is not the limit, however, now. I need -only refer my reader to Henry George’s picture of poverty dogging the -footsteps of progress in America and to Professor Goldwin Smith’s -corroborative words: “It is a melancholy fact, that everywhere in -America we are looking forward to the necessity of a public provision -for the poor.” And again: “There will in time be an educated proletariat -of a very miserable and perhaps dangerous kind, for nothing can be more -wretched and explosive than destitution with the social humiliation -which attends it, in men whose sensibilities have been quickened and -whose ambition has been aroused.” - -The problem respecting appalling poverty in the midst of wealth (it is a -poverty marring the happiness of the rich as well as the poor) cries out -for solution. It forces itself upon public attention in the old world as -in the new. There is no escape from it. The problem must be grappled -with by educated reason, and solved by means of the patient exercise of -a cold calculation of natural forces. Happily it is recognized in its -evolutional aspects by many thinkers all over the world. Twenty years -ago Charles Letourneau in his _Sociology_ wrote: “In every country which -enjoys the European system of civilization, the right of property has -ever been in a state of evolution, always tending to give a greater -degree of independence to the individual owner; in other words, the -evolution is always worked in favour of individual egotism. Who can say -that the evolution is now complete, or that we have yet realized the -highest ideal system in the disposition of our property? A progressive -evolution is, for every society, one of the conditions of existence. The -right of proprietorship cannot, therefore, remain stationary.” The -period that has elapsed since that passage was written has witnessed a -widespread and strong growth of opinion upon these lines. - -In the _Contemporary Review_ of February, 1902, Mr. J. A. Hobson thus -writes: “... The idea of natural individual rights as the basis of -democracy disappears. A clear grasp of society as an economic organism -completely explodes the notion of property as an inherent individual -right, for it shows that no individual can make or appropriate anything -of value without the direct continuous assistance of society.” - -The right of proprietorship in land is the first principle to examine. -The relation between land and life in its simpler aspects is clear and -definite. All classes of land animals—man included—are immediately -dependent for subsistence upon the produce of land, and when man emerges -from slavery, another element, namely, labour, enters into the -conditions of his life and becomes, with land, essential to his -existence. Of food, fitted for the nourishment of man, uncultivated land -produces little save some wild fruits and edible roots, and many wild -animals, which he may eat if in hunting them down they do not eat him. -But land placed under the additional forces of man’s physical and -intellectual energies produces an immense variety of objects—a perfect -wealth of raw material, vegetable, animal, mineral—which, yielding to -further elaboration through his efforts and genius, all help to create -for him a civilized life. This raw material, in short, supplied man with -food, shelter, clothing, with the comforts and luxuries his developing -nature demands, and with all necessaries to the existence of literature, -science, and art. - -Passing over the primitive forms of associated life—the nomad and -pastoral—we come to the agricultural stage, when labourers on the land -are manifestly the all-important social units. They sow, till, and reap -the fields. They tend domestic animals, whose skins and wool are made -into garments by other members of the group. But the latter depend for -food and the raw materials of their industry on the cultivators, who -are, if I may so express it, the foundation stones of the simple social -structure. To whom does the land belong? To the whole group, and an -annual division amongst the families for purposes of cultivation takes -place, whilst weapons, fishing-boats, tools and other movables are the -property of individuals. - -Now observe, a change gradually occurs, a change from the communal -possession of land to a system of the individual possession of land, and -force is the sole cause of this change. External aggression has -initiated militant activity, while, in the process of frequent -resistance to invasion, and frequent aggression upon others, there is -produced the class inequalities which distinguish a militant type of -society and a system allowing of individual land-ownership. Land becomes -private property in the hands of the bold and crafty, who compel the -cultivation of the soil by the landless men of the group, and by -prisoners of war spared on condition that they perform hard labour. The -institution of slavery thus becomes established, and it is a leading -factor in the promotion of civilization. Lords of the soil spend their -energies in warlike activities, whilst protecting their slaves and serfs -at labour. The produce of that labour is appropriated by the dominant -class, and used for its own particular benefit. Its requirements extend -much beyond the mere necessaries of existence that it yields to the -workers, and slowly there uprises a new form of labour and a large class -of labourers, producing a variety of commodities to gratify the desires -of pomp-loving, barbaric chiefs. - -Now this class, the labour of which is wholly absorbed by the chiefs, -must be fed from the produce of the land. How is this accomplished? The -chiefs, while exacting hard labour from the slaves and serfs, yield them -only a bare living. But the proceeds of their labour, over and above the -bare living of the producers, is very considerable. There is therefore a -large surplus, which, appropriated by the chiefs as rent, is the source -of their power. With it they support a large class of landless men -engaged in ministering to their own specific wants. Moreover, this class -groups itself around the castle of the chiefs, which are filled with -military retainers, and here we have the beginnings of towns. - -The town population increases steadily with the increase of the surplus -produce from land under better conditions of cultivation. Markets and -stores are instituted, and a commercial system is introduced. Barter -gives way to the use of money, and the entire social organism expands -and becomes more complex. - -Anon, slavery disappears. But workers on the land—always the most -necessary social units—remain poor as before. Competitors for work, in -danger of starving, drive no hard bargain with masters who are in full -possession of the soil, and able to forbid their growing even the simple -fruits and grain required for a meagre living. For food enough to live, -they readily pledge the labour of their whole lives, and since nature’s -recompense for labour is liberal, there is an abundant surplus produce -for landowners to grasp and employ as they choose. Into the towns it is -sent, and there it stimulates progress—mental and material—and creates -new departures in social life. - -Class inequalities among town workers increase, and labour becomes -organized. The mentally stronger dominate the weaker in the new fields -of industry. They direct and control the production of commodities for -the use of the dominant class, and succeed in acquiring a greater reward -for their work than a meagre living. Out of the surplus produce of the -land they become able to secure from their lords a portion which forms -the foundation of wealth in a new social class—a class of landless -capitalists who, possessing brain power and later money-power, become -the supreme factors in altering social conditions. These men promote -manufacture and commerce by action similar to the landholders’ methods -of promoting agriculture. They press down their workers to a bare -living, and take as profits all that competition permits of the results -of the joint labour. These profits they apply to the satisfaction of -their personal desires and the carrying out of their schemes of -manufacturing and commercial enterprise. Finally, they indulge in -luxurious living and emulate landholders in the purchase of valuable -commodities, thus stimulating certain trades. - -Meanwhile, through the intercourse of urban life, mental activity -rapidly augments. Education is initiated, aptitude and skill are more -and more prized and rewarded. Invention profoundly modifies the -primitive modes of production, and genius aspires to understand and -govern the forces of nature. One direction taken by mental activity -eventuates in an important social force, viz., the Church, or religious -organization. Many of the best minds in early ages were allied with the -priesthood, and the Church’s desire for stately temples, gorgeous -shrines, and decorative worship have enormously aided the outward -development of architecture, sculpture, painting, and music, and the -inward growth of aesthetic capacity. But priests and all whose labour is -absorbed by the requirements of religious worship and the constructing -of temples, must be fed on the produce of the land. The priesthood is -maintained in leisure by rents, tithes, or the voluntary offerings of -the people. It is freed from the necessity of industrial labour and -military activity, and members within this large class have devoted -their leisure to literature, history, philosophy, and art, thereby -greatly advancing civilization. - -Under increased stability of governments the organization becomes of a -mainly industrial type. Nations now possess enormous wealth in the form -of material commodities, wealth in the form of intellectual literature -and the educational institutions that promote knowledge; wealth in the -form of ornament—all that embellishes and makes beautiful the -surroundings of human life; and all this wealth has come into existence -through the natural action of evolutionary forces—an action creative, -step by step, of a system of social interdependence and regulation. The -prominent features of the system are: First, private property in land; -second, great social inequality; third, poverty of manual labourers; -fourth, a large town population, and a small or minimum peasant -population. Its less prominent but no less decisive feature is the -complete social subjugation of the poor by the rich. - -The supports of the system through the whole process of its growth have -been labourers on the land, and these labourers have scarcely at all -partaken of the national wealth. The food they reaped formed the motor -force vitalizing and energizing the evolving social organism. Food was -the ruling power deciding the growth and extent of economic life, as -well as the form of its development. But food-producers have never -determined the destination of the surplus food, and in this fact lies -the key to a great social problem which students of social science are -bound to comprehend. The landholders—and these as a rule have not been -workers on the land—have decided the destination of the surplus produce. -Up to the present-day landlords—including the proprietors of coal, iron -and other mines, capitalist employers of labour, the churches of the -nation, and hereditary rulers—are at the fountainhead of modern -civilization. It is through their action—caused mainly by selfishness, -tyranny, pride, greed—that cultivators and operatives have been kept at -maximum toil and been limited in number, while at the same time the -land’s resources have developed and improved until land and labour -united serve to support an enormous mass of population—individuals of -entirely distinctive character, activities, social position and social -worth, all alike in this one particular—they are daily and hourly -consumers of the produce of the land. - -A good harvest that is general over the world sends activity like an -electric current through the economic system. A bad harvest, if -universal, would cause universal depression; not agriculture alone must -suffer, but manufacture, commerce, science, art, literature, education, -recreation—for on the production of food depends the buying power of the -whole trading world. It is true that modern countries are not maintained -from their own food resources alone. Also, it is true that the machinery -of exchange—money and our vast credit system—enter into the phenomena -and confuse the student’s mind. Nevertheless, an all-important fact -discloses itself on close investigation, viz., this—the relation of -landlordism to modern civilization is not accidental, it is essential -and causal. - -As already shown, the general drift of the produce of the land has been -into the towns; and thither also have migrated the labourers. Machinery -and science applied to land cultivation lowered the amount of peasant -labour required, but it did not lower the birth-rate. Surplus peasants -have been driven by necessity from their homes to the centres of -manufacturing industry, and, competing for work there with the operative -class, have kept wages low and facilitated the enriching of capitalist -employers. These men, actuated by personal desires, selfish ambition, -and a tendency to mercantile speculation, use their wealth in extending -the production of objects that minister to a life of luxury and -refinement. - -The older political economists mistakenly taught that “all capital, with -a trifling exception, was originally the result of saving.” (J. S. -Mill’s _Political Economy_, book 1, chap. 5.) Attention to the history -of social evolution, however, proves the fact to be otherwise. Not -individual saving, but social seizure, created capital. Its origin, as -we have shown, was the surplus produce taken from producers and disposed -of by a dominant class. It originated through the selfish quality of -rapacity and not through the respectable virtue of prudence, as some -capitalists would have us believe. The growth of capital has been -enormous since the beginning of the industrial revolution; and at the -present moment the riches of a comparatively small number of the owners -of our land and capital are colossal and increasing. At the same time, -there is no diminution of poverty among workers. Thirty per cent. of the -five million inhabitants of London are inadequately supplied with the -bare necessaries of life, and about a fourth of the entire community -become paupers at sixty-five. I refer my reader to Sidney Webb’s -pamphlet, _The Difficulties of Individualism_. - -The supersession of the small by the great industry has given the main -fruits of invention and the new power over nature to a small proprietary -class, upon whom the mass of the people are dependent for leave to earn -their living. The rent and interest claimed by that class absorbs, on an -average, one-third of the product of labour. The remaining 8_d._ of the -1_s._ is then shared between the various classes co-operating in the -production, but in such a way that at least 4_d._ goes to a set of -educated workers numbering less than one-fifth of the whole, leaving -four-fifths to divide less than 4_d._ out of the 1_s._ between them. -“The consequence is the social condition we see around us.” (Ibid.) - -Thus four out of five of the whole population—the weekly -wage-earners—toil perpetually for less than a third of the aggregate -product of labour, at an annual wage averaging at most £40 per adult, -and are hurried into early graves by the severity of their lives, dying, -as regards at least one-third of them, destitute, or actually in receipt -of poor law relief. - -In town and country, the operatives and peasants, who, united, form one -large class engaged in manual labour, resemble Sinbad the Sailor, on -whose shoulders rides the Old Man of the Sea. It is they who maintain -our leisured classes. The proletariat carries on its back all the rich -and their innumerable dependents, more than 300,000 soldiers, an immense -navy, a million of paupers, a number of State pensioners, a multitude of -criminals, His Majesty and the Royal Family, all Government officials -and ecclesiastics—a vast host of unproductive consumers throughout -society. - -Slavery of the many for the comfort and enjoyment of the few! That is -all man has attained to, so far, in the evolution of society. And no one -who studies the facts of life can deny this impeachment of civilization: -“All over the world the beauty, glory, and grace of civilization rests -on human lives crushed into misery and distortion.” (Henry George.) - -The extremity of contrast between rich and poor has no ethical -justification. Under purely ethical conditions, every child born into a -nation should have equal chances of life, comforts, and luxuries, with -every other child. But, as we know, one British babe may be born to an -income of £100,000 a year, and another to no income, but to a constant -struggle for bare subsistence and a pauper’s grave at last. The system -permitting this is _ethically odious_. Nevertheless, we have to -recognize that, under non-ethical conditions, development has taken -place, and we must accept the process as the natural, inevitable result -of all prior conditions. - -Man’s ethical nature itself is the product of a slow evolution, not yet -so advanced as to require and create purely ethical social conditions. -Changes in the future will proceed on lines of natural growth, as in the -past, but with this supreme difference—the issues will be favourable to -general happiness, the advance infinitely more rapid, because aided by -conscious human effort. - -All schemes of social reform that are revolutionary are widely -chimerical to the thoughtful evolutionist, for were we suddenly to -deprive our richer classes of property, privilege, and power, we should -simply create a general abasement of our national civilization. Our -upper classes, rendered effeminate by ill-spent leisure and all the -artificial pleasures of a voluptuous and inane life, are incapable of -directing civilization to the highest and noblest ends. Yet it is out of -their midst that springs the demand for commodities ministering to all -the amenities and refinements of a civilized life. It is refinement -alone that demands refinement, culture that demands culture; and were -the control of human labour to pass _suddenly_ from the hands of the -upper into those of the lower classes, which are still, in the mass, -degraded and unenlightened, there would be no effective demand for these -commodities, and the science and art implicated in their production -would inevitably, though gradually, disappear. - -Progressive evolution culminates in social justice, and the principle of -private property in land, which implies an injurious monopoly in what is -essential to human life (and is therefore socially unjust), is certain -to be consciously relinquished at a given stage of the nation’s -intellectual and moral advance. - -Having traced the evolution of the individualistic system of industry, -and seen that the inherent evils of the system have their source in the -private ownership of land and capital, which “necessarily involves the -complete exclusion of the mere worker, as such, from most of the -economic advantages of the soil on which he is born, and the buildings, -machinery, and railways he finds around him” (Sidney Webb), let me now -sum up and state the paramount evils that have to be overcome. For the -workers these are—low wages, long hours of toil, difficulty of obtaining -work, and, when it is obtained, uncertainty of being permitted to retain -it. For the community generally there are further evils, viz., first, -the mal-production of commodities made manifest in food adulteration and -in a perpetual output of objects that, instead of promoting and -conserving civilization, debase and corrupt public taste and morals; -and, second, the mal-production of human life, for poverty is a social -force that directly tends to racial degeneration. A population born and -bred in our city slums becomes physically, mentally, and morally unfit. - -The facts of poverty and the unemployed are impossible to deny. -Frederick Harrison’s picture is accurate; ninety per cent. of the actual -producers of wealth have no home they can call their own beyond the end -of the week, have no bit of soil or so much as a room that belongs to -them, have nothing of any kind except so much of old furniture as will -go in a cart; have the precarious chance of weekly wages, which barely -suffice to keep them in health; are separated by so narrow a margin from -destitution that a month of bad trade, sickness or unexpected loss -brings them face to face with hunger and pauperism. This is the normal -state of the average workman in town or country. (_Report of Ind. Ref. -Congress_, 1886.) - -As regards the children of these workmen, fifty per cent. die before -they reach five years of age, while eighteen per cent. only of upper -class children die at the same age. The industrial evolution of the last -150 years, with its labour-saving machinery and highly organized masses -of wage-workers, has done nothing at all to lessen poverty. Poverty has -steadily kept pace with the increase of population. - -But observe in the present day there is one significant feature that -forces itself upon public attention—a feature revealing to the social -student our approach to that stage of evolution spoken of by William -Clarke in the passage I quote as motto to this chapter: “Each -institution tends to cancel itself.... Its special function and progress -produce effects tending to negate the original function.” - -If we look minutely into the latest developments of large businesses, we -find that the diminution in the number of competitors does not as a rule -lead to an easing of the competitive struggle. As Mr. J. A. Hobson -observes and demonstrates: “It is precisely in those trades which are -most highly organized, provided with the most advanced machinery, and -composed of the largest units of capital, that the fiercest and most -unscrupulous competition has shown itself.” (_Evolution of Capital_, p. -120.) There is an increase, in short, of the elements destined to -destroy competition. The anxiety, arduousness, and wastefulness of -strife among the rival competitors, becomes so intolerable that a mutual -truce and amalgamation is sought after as a release. When fully -realized, the amalgamation becomes a monopoly, and competition, that -much vaunted check to counteract the natural rapacity of private -capitalists, ceases altogether. Let industrial monopoly be fairly -established, and behold! competition, with all its merits, real or -assumed, is abrogated. - -But industrial monopoly _in private hands_ becomes intolerable to the -public, so that invariably, in the long run, the community either puts a -forcible stop to the monopoly, or assumes it, and administers it as a -State function. - -We may confidently assert that as large industries approach to the stage -of absorption into monopolies of federated groups of wealthy -capitalists, the more general and widespread grows dissatisfaction and -resentment on the part of the dispossessed smaller capitalists who have -been beaten out of the field. - -Now, the trend of movement to-day, through the whole fields of -production and distribution, is from business on a small scale to -business on a large scale, and the formation of limited companies, -rings, trusts, etc. By purchasing raw material in greater quantities an -immense saving is effected, and the same occurs in the advertising of -goods and in organizing numerous workers instead of a few. These savings -make it possible to lower the price of the finished commodity to the -public. Hence the change from smaller to larger commercial enterprises -is favourable to public interests up to a certain point. But the moment -monopoly point is reached, the position straightway becomes reversed. -Henceforward the public have no protection from a sudden raising of -prices, for, the competitive check having been withdrawn, monopolists -dominate their respective fields of production and distribution, and the -individually selfish forces alone hold sway. - -This tendency, then, to larger and larger industrial organization, with -its wasteful warfare and other attendant evils, implies a certain -advance. It indicates competition working out to its last expression and -final breakdown. It points to the supersession of the individualistic -industrial system by a collectivist industrial system requiring -democratic state-ownership of land and the means of production and -distribution of all commodities. - -In process of civilizing man has made himself acquainted with many laws -of nature, and has learnt so to handle matter as to direct its forces -into channels carrying benefit to himself. He has thus become the -controller of natural forces in as far as they lie within reach of his -mental comprehension and physical activities. It is by this method, and -no other, that our advance along the line of material civilization has -been accomplished, and all further extension of the comforts and -amenities of economic and social life is certain to be obtained through -persistence in this available and satisfactory course. - -Now, throughout the domain of non-material civilization, man has never -constituted himself controller of natural forces, although, in orders of -life inferior to his own, he has guided many vital forces. For instance, -there are vegetable and animal forces—all subject to natural law—that he -has enlisted in his service and made submissive to his dominion. The -forms of vegetable life around us to-day—cereals, fruit-trees, plants, -and flowers of infinitely varied tint—bear witness to the art and skill -of man; and the animal kingdom, ruled by mysterious biological laws, has -provided him with faithful servants obedient to his will, in a life -which to dogs and horses is largely artificial. - -In the order of his own social life man’s position is wholly different. -What we behold, if we take an objective view of a so-called civilized -society, is a marvellous variety of complicated movements. These are the -outcome of forces pursuing an unbridled course; and that course is -always the path of least resistance. As yet there is no intervening -force of a collective, mental nature to adapt that course to an ultimate -definite aim and purpose, or to harmonize broadly those lines of least -resistance with the line of permanent and universal advantage to -mankind. As Professor Lester F. Ward expresses it, “Man has made the -winds, the waters, fire, steam and electricity do his bidding. All -nature, both animate and inanimate, has been reduced to his service.... -One class of natural forces still remains the play of chance, and from -it, instead of aid, he is constantly receiving the most serious checks. -This field is that of society itself, these unreclaimed forces are the -social forces of whose nature man seems to possess no knowledge, whose -very existence he persistently ignores, and which he consequently is -powerless to control.” (_Dynamic Sociology_, vol. I. p. 35.) These -unreclaimed social forces—selfishness, rapacity, pride—give activity to -the competitive system, and run riot on the basis of private property in -land and the means of production. But the present condition of things -cannot much longer persist, and a new industrial system, the outcome of -far more elevated social forces, is shaping itself rapidly in many minds -throughout Europe, America, and the whole civilized world; that system -of co-operative industry we have now to consider. - - - - - CHAPTER II - ORGANIZED INDUSTRY - - -The true organic formula of political as of economic justice is— - - “From each according to his powers, - To each according to his needs.” - J. A. HOBSON. - - -Whilst bearing in mind that the present economic system—a system -unconsciously produced through the play of selfish forces—was a -necessary stage of evolution, and tended to progress so long as savage -proclivities in the mass of the people made a closer social union -impossible, we have also to recognize the changes, outward and inward, -occurring under that system. First, a rise of co-operation, both -voluntary and involuntary—in factories and throughout business -generally—has taken place, causing evolution to proceed on wider lines. -Second, a slow, silent, unstudied, half-unconscious movement has -advanced, and in these days eventuated in the conception of a new system -which purports to be the form that industrial evolution must assume in -the near future. And inasmuch as this new system is less egoistic and -more social than any system of competition, it will move on ethical -lines of progress. - -The present system, as we have seen, is based on private property in -land and the instruments of production and distribution. In opposition -to this, socialism implies that the State or people collectively should -own the land and instruments of production and distribution. Further, -that the State should organize routine labour and direct the -distribution of produce upon this basis, and that throughout society -social equality should be established and maintained. - -The sentiment of justice and the feelings of sympathy and solidarity, -without which no socialized society could exist, are prominent -everywhere to-day. They manifest in philanthropic action all over the -country, in constant efforts to adjust political and economic forces to -lines of social equality and in the revolt of wage-workers, throughout -the civilized world, from conditions they are finding intolerable and -will not much longer endure. - -A wholly unselfish order of life is impossible still, but under any -intelligent collectivist system, individual selfishness becomes modified -and controlled. Hence we may confidently expect that the strong -anti-social feelings fostered by the private property and competitive -system of industry will largely subside in the greater fraternity of an -organized socialism. - -It is significant that ignorant opponents, in their wildly erroneous -interpretation of the theory of socialism as an equal division of money -to all, recognize the gross injustice of the present distribution of -wealth. The wrong and misery accruing from the individualistic system of -industry are widely felt and freely admitted, while the underlying -causes of the evil and the true remedies are not yet understood. - -As regards the connexion of socialism with the theories of political -economy, I must shortly explain: Political economy is the science of -wealth—its production and distribution. But as the science relates -exclusively to the present competitive system, the socialist finds in it -a full exposure of the evils involved in that system, and ample grounds -for striving to bring about its supersession by a system of co-operation -on a socialized property basis. There is not and there cannot be any -conflict between a true political economy and a scientific socialism. -The one describes what is, the other what may be and ought to be. Both -recognize that wealth is produced (and it is the only possible way) by -the application of labour to land, and its products. In the present -system, the individual possession of land and the instruments of -production forms the ruling factor, producing inequality in the -distribution of wealth and gives the basis on which commercial -competition rests. In referring to laws of political economy, it is not -unusual to speak as if they were laws of nature, no more to be banished -than the law of gravitation. On this assumption there is raised the -argument that society is forever bound to the present system, with its -payments of rent, interest and profits out of the surplus proceeds of -labour. Nevertheless, it is easy to see that the so-called laws of -economics are only rules of social living springing from motives of -human self-seeking exercised within the generally accepted conditions of -private property in the essentials of life. It is not necessary for the -socialist to contend against any single generalization of political -economy; each may be true on its own basis, but, _with that basis_ -socialism is at war. Let society relinquish the property basis, and -political economy remains applicable only to the past, while in the -future the motives of human self-seeking enter upon a fresh career in a -more altruistic system. - -We must grasp the true nature of the various tributes imposed upon -labour—rent, interest, profits and rent of ability—to comprehend their -economic bearing. A farm is the private property of a landlord, while it -is cultivated by a farmer and his labourers. The proceeds of the -industry of the two latter is divided into three portions—the labourers’ -wages, the landlord’s rent and the farmer’s profits. The first, -dependent on demand and supply in the labour market, is kept down to -what will cover the expense of a bare subsistence; and the second is -always the highest amount the landlord can extract above the portion the -farmer consents to live upon after paying the subsistence wage to his -labourers. A landlord’s rapacity, however, is no longer the only factor -in determining rent, since State interference has been found necessary -for protection of farmers in the public interests. The economic bearing -of rent is this: it gives effect to the demands of the landlord class -for the results of an immense amount of labour applied to the production -of varied commodities. As already explained, the produce sold in towns -by farmers to pay rent goes, in large measure, to the support of workers -who are manufacturing luxuries, _objets de luxe_, and many meretricious -wares that minister to the depraved taste of men and women whose -happiness is destroyed by a life of idleness and ennui. - -It is not land only, but capital in the shape of railways, factories, -workshops, machinery, etc., that are held as private property. For the -use of these, therefore, workers pay a tribute called interest on -capital. This interest gives effective demand to the wants of a large -class of comparatively idle shareholders, who further absorb the -services and produce of another great army of workers. The next tribute, -namely profits, is a claim connected with the organizing of labour. It -represents a prodigious tax levied upon workers, a tax that enables -employers and managers—more or less wealthy—to enjoy comforts and -luxuries their employés can never command. The fourth tribute has been -called the rent of ability. It rests on the non-ethical principle that -some people deserve from society a great reward for work they have -pleasure in doing, while the toilers engaged in irksome, dangerous, -dirty, distasteful work—however necessary to the whole community—are -only entitled to a pittance wage. - -Let us look at the proportional value of rent, interest, profits and -rent of ability in their relation to the reward of manual labour. Out of -the yearly income of the nation, recently computed at £1,450,000,000, -£510,000,000 goes in rent and interest and £410,000,000 in profits and -salaries to the ruling classes, while £530,000,000 only is available for -payment of wages to manual workers. But when we consider that the latter -compose the great mass of the population, and the former a small section -or fraction of it only, the enormities involved in the working of our -property institutions exhibit their true colours, and the growing sense -of justice within civilized humanity revolts wholly from the system. The -facts, roughly speaking, are that one-third of the total income of the -nation goes to four-fifths of the population, while the remaining -one-fifth pockets two-thirds of the income. (See Sidney Webb in _Fabian -Tract No. 69_.) - -In the Census of 1891 there were 543,038 adult men who entered -themselves as not working for a living. We may assume these belonged -chiefly to the wealthy classes, and if we reckon their average incomes -at £500 per annum, there emerges a sum of £271,519,000 as approximately -the value of the labour they exact each year from workers to whom they -render no services in return. Again, if we add to the number of these -idle men the women and children now living on rent and interest, the -above computation falls far short of the reality. And, need it be said, -the more there is taken from workers by non-workers, the less must -remain for the workers themselves. - -To people ignorant of economic principles, the man who spends a good -income on personal gratifications appears—in his relations to -society—either passive, or active beneficially, inasmuch as he “gives -employment,” and his “giving” on these lines is lavish. Moreover, it is -considered that the difference between rich and poor is one of _natural_ -inequality, of which, if workers complain, they are considered as -unreasonable as the invalid who complains that other people are healthy. -But the facts admit of no such analogy. The rich owe everything to the -poor. They are simply a parasitic class, and the money they spend -represents a power (socially permitted) to command and absorb the labour -of their fellows. They exact life-long services, for which they bestow -no personal service in return. Were we to place a rich man with all his -money on an uninhabited island, however fertile, he would at once be -reduced to his natural stature. No money would cause his daily comforts -to spring up around him, and still less the many luxuries without which -he feels his existence has no charm. In order to live he himself must -work, for he is the sole representative of the scores of fellow-men on -whose labour he has hitherto wholly depended for necessaries and all the -amenities of a civilized life. The absorption by one of the labour of -many is a social arrangement of genetic origin, and is immoral or -non-ethical in character. - -Socialism is the philosophy of a pure, wholesome, progressive industrial -life, to be initiated and maintained by human effort—nay more, it is a -veritable Gospel of Peace. And I use the word Gospel advisedly, for the -finest religious quality of human nature is not in those beings who -calmly pursue a course of spiritual development for themselves, -unmindful that the physical part of their fellows craves the food and -rest without which the latent soul within cannot manifest itself. - -We have seen that in the domain of feeling the stirrings of socialism -have for years been agitating the bosom of society, and although the -outcome in philanthropic action issues usually in failure, none the less -does it spring from the highest and holiest motives of man. But while -philanthropy chiefly represents love’s labour lost, there are other and -more virile forces in action that are indicative of a coming organic -democracy. Observe, for instance, the constant efforts of the people to -alter the political and economic strain by State interference. This -agitation is a very significant fact. It betrays a hunger for social -justice which will certainly increase with the growth of knowledge, -public spirit and sensitiveness to personal rights. This hunger can -never be fully appeased under any system that permits wealth to flow to -the lucky, the clever, the cunning, the greedy, and be handed down by -inheritance and bequest from generation to generation. No modification -of individualism and not even socialism will banish all popular -agitation. Communism is the far-distant goal to which it points, for -communism alone sets forth as attainable a satisfying equality in all -the comforts of life, and since evolution must eventuate in social -justice, whatever falls short of this will inevitably contain some -conditions of discontent. - -But whilst a craving for justice among the masses cries out for State -interference, from whence comes the modern view of what justice means? -Among the classes it has been considered that the man who is clever, -i.e. mentally strong, has a right to a greater reward for labour than -the man who is stupid. The origin of this notion is simply the fact that -in a competitive system he is able to obtain that superior reward. -Power, and not any ethical idea, is the foundation of the notion. The -notions of justice prevailing throughout society have all arisen -naturally in the past amid the strong and privileged few, and readily -have they been accepted by the docile and oppressed many. The clever, -not the stupid, have formed public opinion, and that under a purely -egoistic impulse. Nevertheless, as evolution passes from the unconscious -to the self-conscious stage, reason unites with altruistic feeling to -give birth to new conceptions that are moulding public opinion to a -higher and truer form, and working out on the plane of practical action. -The conception of justice involved in socialism is naturally unpalatable -to the privileged few, but it goes far to prove the truth of socialism, -that the conception is the fruit of the most advanced study of our -social organism _as a whole_, while it coincides precisely with the -blindly instinctive pulsations of the central mass of the people. - -Turning now from the moral and emotional to the economic and practical -side of the question, we are bound to inquire by what methods transition -from the present competitive commercial system of industry to the -socialism of the future will take effect. For, be it observed, -supporters of the latter system not only assert its ethical superiority, -but further assert that it is both practicable and economically -inevitable. - -There are two, and only two, general directions of popular reform: -first, the revolutionary—the driving straight at established -institutions with the intention of overthrowing them; second, the -legislative—the aiming to improve the existing system by co-operative -methods and the modification and gradual destruction of its worst -features, i.e. its extremes of injustice and inequality. I have to point -out how retrograde and futile for the promotion of happiness is sudden -revolution. It is the spontaneous method of human passion where -intellect is unenlightened on natural evolution and causation. It seeks -to overturn what, for the time being, is the highest product of -evolution, and it would blindly substitute that, which although -ethically superior, the society of the time is unable to support. The -method of legislative reform, national and municipal, is the rational -one; and no other, we may confidently hope, will be tried in the -civilized countries of Europe so long as socialists are not harassed and -persecuted for their opinion beyond the point of endurance. - -Already, as regards legislation in this country, the power of the -Demos—the mass of the people—is acutely felt. Step by step our rulers -have been compelled to lower the political franchise in order to quell -revolutionary tendency and maintain their position. Fear-forces within -the social organism have changed direction unnoted at the surface. The -classes are secretly more afraid of the people than the people are of -the classes; yet the actual burdens borne by the people are in no way -lightened. And why is this so? Because the people generally are ignorant -of their political power, and still more ignorant of how to wield it -favourably to their own interests. As has truly been said: “The -difficulty in England is not to secure more political power for the -people, but to persuade them to make any sensible use of the power they -already have.” - -But social forces of persuasion and enlightenment are ready prepared for -their guidance. In the upper and lower sections of the middle class, men -and women whose culture is scientific and whose moral sentiment is -advanced, are ranging themselves in the van of the world’s progress, and -chiefly through their efforts there is pouring into and penetrating the -darkness of the masses a flood of intellectual enlightenment. This -process begun has its definite bearings. A growing intelligence in the -people will cause the displacement of all authority that is -irresponsible. A better selection of legislators will be made, and -these, constrained by judicious criticism, will study the principles of -social science and learn how best to attain the clear ends of -government. - -As our masses rise to the full exercise of their political power and the -democratic trend of the nation goes forward, no higher motive force than -that of self-seeking is required to secure better social conditions. Not -only does the ignorant self-seeking of the masses carry weight -commanding attention, but the intelligent self-seeking of rulers is a -force set in similar direction. To please the majority of constituents -is their highest policy; and since food and leisure and education are -the essential needs of that majority, such available intellect as the -legislative body possesses will be honestly applied to promoting the -increase and better distribution of these various necessaries of a -civilized life; in short, to promoting the general well-being in so far -as the exigencies of the times permit. - -I do not deny that self-seeking in rulers has hitherto mainly led to the -clever hoodwinking of ignorant constituents. I merely assert that we -have rounded the point of Cape Danger in that regard. Every step we take -on democratic lines, every advance we make in educating the people, -removes us further from that danger point. Moreover, I assert that -extending the Parliamentary franchise to women of every social class -will equally work for good. The new altruistic or philanthropic spirit -of the age has laid firm hold of the so-called educated women of to-day. -When public responsibility presses these women to self-education in -politics, the myriad injustices revealed will cause them to turn from -futile individualist charities and concentrate their energies on works -of real and lasting social reform. We may confidently anticipate that -the British Parliament will become an excellent instrument of Democratic -Government when certain reforms—that are already widely agitated—have -been carried out. These reforms are that: “The House of Commons should -be freed from the veto of the House of Lords, and should be thrown open -to candidates from all classes by a system of payment of representatives -and a more rational method of election.” (See _Fabian Tract No. 70_.) - -There are two lines of action certain to be pursued by a Parliament -growing yearly more democratic. One is the line of protection of labour, -the other is that of an active service of the people. Now State -interference with trade—in the interests of workers—is condemned by the -_laissez-faire_ school of economists. Such action is scoffingly termed -“grandmotherly legislation.” It is deprecated as injurious to society as -a whole, as an outrage on the liberty of the British subject, and an -impious desecration of the capitalistic fetish, “Freedom of Contract.” -But when the knowledge of facts proves that on one side this so-called -freedom signifies freedom of choice between dire starvation and the -distasteful terms of an absolute master, surprise is not felt that -intelligent men prefer what the ignorant may regard as a species of -State bondage. This preference is a feature of the times clearly -visible. No doubt, where social equality reigns, individual liberty is a -noble attainment; but with inequality in the means of life and the -fundamental conditions of social happiness, a State that is honestly -striving to restore the balance is a very _fount of justice_. The quest -of the workers is not that of individual liberty, but of a collective -liberty, embracing every man, woman and child within the ranks of their -own order. - -There is no moral principle that condemns State interference, although -we may admit that occasionally it has wrought evil instead of good. -Failures have been caused by ignorance alike in the rulers and the -ruled. But as knowledge of the real problem advances, errors in -governing will become less frequent, and the action of the State be -marked by a wise adaptation to human needs in view of the greatest -happiness possible. - -State regulation is simply a matter of power and expediency. At the -present low stage of civilization, for just so long as the ruling power -is exercised by a propertied minority, it will prove injurious to the -majority; but when the power passes over to the people the evils from -which the majority suffer—in so far as they are remediable by -society—will be slowly and surely redressed. Our County, District and -Parish Councils are important instalments of democracy. These elected -bodies, with their increasing powers, are potent to make of the -community an ever larger and larger employer of labour, until, at the -will of the people, all industries become absorbed, and the collectivist -system of labour organization is gradually established. It is evident -that the instruments of a thoroughly democratic administration are -rapidly perfecting in Great Britain; and when the ideal of socialism -dominates the national mind, these will present a ready means of -realizing the ideal in practice. Ignorance of the ideal leads many minds -into the false assumption that the raising of wages, and to do this the -impoverishing of capitalists, is the socialistic _sine quâ non_ in State -action. But as Mrs. Bosanquet explains: “In our nineteenth century cry -for higher wages we are apt to lose sight of the fact that many things -are more important to the working-man than a few shillings added to his -weekly income. A good supply of water, well-paved and lighted streets, a -market in which he can always obtain wholesome food, and properly -guarded sanitary conditions, will do more to raise his standard of -living above that of his ancestors than any increase of mere money -income. With those he can lead a healthy, orderly life on comparatively -small wages; without them no rise in wages, however desirable in itself, -will enable him to escape danger and disease.” (_Rich and Poor_, by Mrs. -Bernard Bosanquet.) - -This puts the case for municipal socialism in a nutshell. No amount of -philanthropy, no amount of individual action is likely to provide a -parish with a good water supply, properly paved and lighted streets, -sanitary dwellings and a well-managed market. (_Fabian News._) Yet these -are fundamental requisites of general well-being, and another requisite -for well-being and progress, dependent upon State action, is education -of the people. If the power of the masses and their independence of -arbitrary authority grow out of accord with their real knowledge of -things, disastrous and bloody revolutions become possible. That in some -sort the State must educate the masses is a principle already -acknowledged and acted upon. We know, too, with how little success! But -as Government loses its evil characteristics and grows enlightened, our -State education will be directed to new ends. Its aim will be to impress -such knowledge on the rising generations as will prepare them for social -life, and instruct them in the means of averting misery and increasing -happiness. It will educate them in the science of society and true -meliorism, in the best methods for repressing anti-social feelings, in -the formation of noble ideals of conduct, and in that religion which -unites mankind in the region of the heart and makes of their union a -living and growing social organism. - -But while this is the aim of State education, the exact means adopted -may vary. Where parents are superior much may be left in their hands, -but inferior parents can never be permitted to train up children in -inferior ways at the risk of lowering social purity and health. - -I believe the time will arrive when Government, acting on its right of -force and expediency, will take up and sequestrate the small class of -social units who, defective by nature and evil conditions, are unable to -control the injurious tendency to propagate their kind. This degraded -minority will be kindly dealt with and allowed all liberty not -inconsistent with the careful guarding of public safety. The object to -attain would be simply the putting an end to their evil stock. - -In the matter of State education, as well as in that of State -interference with trade, objections are made on the ground of injustice. -“Why,” it is asked, “should a man without children be taxed to educate -the children of others? Is it not unjust that the earnings of the -prudent should be taken to save the imprudent from the consequences of -their own folly?” My answer is that besides being expedient, it is not -socially unjust and the argument rests on the fact that the rewards of -life depend upon the economic conditions of society much more than upon -individual effort or merit. The amount of a man’s income is determined -by forces not created by justice, and over which he has no personal -control. A clever physician may command the fee of a guinea a visit. Let -another competent man appear in the neighbourhood and charge half a -guinea, the first has to lower his fee or lose his patients, and if he -lowers his fee, the sum of the incomes of the two physicians sharing the -patients between them will be less than the amount of the single income -originally derived from that source. A man’s gains are what the -competitive system ordained by society permits him to seize, whether he -be working hard or not at all. Within these non-moral conditions an -appeal to justice is irrelevant. Outside the non-moral conditions, what -justice requires is that all men should be socially equal in respect of -two things, viz. liberty and the ordinary comforts of life. - -If employers do not deem it unjust to lower wages, neither should they -deem it unjust were the State to lower their incomes to the precise -amount their employés receive. Society has in the past arbitrarily -arranged conditions that favour the few; why should it not now -arbitrarily rearrange these conditions favourably to the many? If we -take the average amount of all incomes to represent the sum each worker -might justly receive, we find that a number of people have far more than -this sum. The surplus represents then an “unearned increment” obtained -by force of circumstance. A still larger number of people, on the other -hand, are wholly unable to win, by any effort they may make, the above -average amount, even if they work hard and well all their lives. Is it -not just and reasonable that the more fortunate are required to give up -a portion of their “unearned increment” in order that in the interests -of society the children of the less fortunate should be educated? And, -again, the improvident and immoral are nature’s defective children. Does -not the highest religion demand that they should be tenderly dealt with -and spared—if that be possible—all the tortures that nature unaided -would bring upon them. - -I believe that, under conscious evolution, the State will become in its -action more and more philanthropic, simply for this reason—its members -will become more and more humane and public-spirited. - -Voluntary and State agency, however, will continue to co-exist. Each has -its peculiar merits and demerits, and each individual case to be dealt -with has its peculiar conditions. Science and experience must in each -case therefore decide which agency applies best. There is no foregone -conclusion that under State Socialism all private industries will -collapse. The principle of the system is that no method of industry, -hurtful to society as a whole, may exist, and the power of the State -shall be rigorously used to protect the interests of the whole, as -against conflicting individual interests. Even now it is felt, through -the growing democratic spirit, that for our public bodies to take -advantage of the struggle for employment of starving, hard-pressed men -and women, is a national disgrace. It will soon be a point of honour -with the nation to fix a minimum wage for public employés much above the -competitive rate. Some County Councils have already been moved to direct -that workers employed by them, or under their contracts, should be paid -trade-union wages. Parliament has in some cases acted similarly, and -when we remember that Government at this moment is the largest employer -of labour in the kingdom, we realize that its example in giving wages -determined more by equity than by competition will have a raising effect -upon wages in private employment. - -There is not any danger, however, that the movement of taking over the -industries of the country by the State will stop short of the most -favourable point. As I write this chapter, the following paragraph has -appeared in a socialist journal of to-day: “It is proposed to establish -a gigantic trust to control the entire iron-producing interests of the -United States. This, of course, is eminently proper from an economic -view, as it is a clearly demonstrated fact that production on a large -scale is cheaper than production on a small scale. Carnegie, Rockefeller -and Morgan, proposers of the iron trust, are, from a certain standpoint, -benefactors of the race, inasmuch as they will demonstrate the -practicability of the co-operative idea on a national scale in -production. In due time the people will recognize the folly of allowing -these men to reap the whole profits, and the system will be readjusted.” - -Another important public event was the introduction into the British -Parliament of an Employer’s Liability Bill. “This Bill proceeds,” said -its introducer, “on the principle that when a person for his own profit -sets in motion agencies which create risks for others, he ought to be -civilly responsible.” (_The Scotsman_ Report, May 4, 1897.) Now it goes -without saying that the iron trust, and all trusts and commercial rings -and monopolies, create the risk of a disastrous rise of prices to the -general public, and a consequent greater inequality of wealth possession -than even that from which we are suffering acutely to-day. A logical -executive, holding the above principle, will inevitably annex to the -State these huge outgrowths of the competitive system, will keep down -prices to the level required by the general interests, and apply profits -to the good of all. - -That the time is not far distant when nationalization of the land will -take place, appears from the fact that many others besides socialists -advocate the measure. But we must not suppose that rent will be -abrogated. The State will impose a charge on the fertile and well -situated lands to create conditions that are fair not only to consumers -but to cultivators, whose labour in view of a given result must vary -according to the superiority or inferiority of soils and situations. -District Councils will in all probability organize agricultural labour, -the State only drawing a rent; while to present owners of the land -compensation will be made, and, if accustomed to work on the land, -salaried positions in the new order offered. - -The rent exacted by the State may become the single form of taxation -necessary for purposes of administration and for organized labour -engaged on such service of the people as does not bring in any profit. -But when routine industries bearing on universal needs belong to the -State, profits will flow into the national exchequer. It will be -possible to gradually increase the State’s payment for labour as the -workers become more capable of elevating their standard of life and -consuming wisely; while the surplus profits will be available for the -organizing of new services to be rendered free. - -The carriage and distribution of letters is a comparatively long -established State industry. The carriage of human beings should equally -become so. The State’s taking over of railways and the municipalities’ -taking over of tramways cannot be much longer delayed. - -Bread baking and distributing by Government employés is pre-eminently -desirable, to put an end to adulteration in a primary necessary of life -and to prevent the waste of energy which takes place in the present -disorganized system. Already there is such a general complaint of the -quality of bakers’ bread, that an approved method of baking from pure -flour under State control would be welcomed by all who perceive how the -racial blood is more or less poisoned and its vitality lowered by what -is called “the staff of life.” (A prolonged process of baking breaks up -the starch granules, and renders bread more digestible. The extra -expense and trouble precludes the adoption of this method by private -bakers.) - -Again, the health of the nation suffers cruelly from poison germs -carried in the medium of milk. But when district councils have organized -agricultural labour, dairy produce will be distributed under strict -Government control. Emulation will spring up among local authorities all -over the country to excel one another in the arts of rapidly acquiring -and skilfully managing all industries that affect general health, and -thus raising the tide of life within the bounds of their jurisdiction. -With this aim broadly accomplished, the minor industries might safely be -left for some time in private hands and under a competition modified in -a greater degree than now by State inspection for the benefit of workers -and consumers. - -Among services to be made free to the public, those of transit bulk -largely and should probably come first—free railway and steamship -service, free tramway and cable-car service, to be followed in time by a -more or less complete service of free entertainments calculated to -develop art and promote a happy, joyous life. - -If we cast our thoughts forward and try to realize the action and -interaction of these altered social conditions upon society, we can -hardly mistake the nature of the changes humanity itself will undergo. -With the destruction of the frightful incubus of poverty, human hearts -will no longer be wrung by anguish, bitterness, despair. With -opportunity freely afforded for regular employment and its ample reward, -for decent and wholesome living, and a civic life brightened by many -pure pleasures, the degrading and false excitements will cease to -allure. Drunkenness, vice, crime will greatly diminish. Instead of the -desperate struggle for bread and all that appertains to an animal life -pure and simple, a new struggle will arise—a benign, inspiring emulation -to attain to and acquire the noble qualities of humanity, the -distinctive characteristics of, not the lower animal, but the higher -spiritual man. - -Respecting the form of government in a Socialistic State, I cannot do -better than quote Mr. J. A. Hobson: “A developed organic democracy will -have evolved a specialized ‘head,’ an expert official class, which shall -draft laws upon information that comes to them from innumerable sources -through class and local representation, and shall administer the -government, subject to protests similarly conveyed.” “The conditions of -a really effective expert officialism are two: such real equality of -educational opportunities as shall draw competent officials from the -whole people; and such a growth of public intelligence and conscience as -shall establish the real final control of government for society in its -full organic structure.” (_Contemporary Review_, February, 1902.) - - - - - _PART II_ - THE PHYSIOLOGICAL ASPECTS OF THE SUBJECT - - -The laws of heredity constitute the most important agency whereby the -vital forces, the vigour and soundness of the physical system, are -changed for better or worse.—NATHAN ALLEN, M.D., LL.D. - - - - - CHAPTER I - THE LAW OF POPULATION - - The population question is the real riddle of the Sphinx, to which no - political Oedipus has as yet found the answer. In view of the ravages - of the terrible monster over-multiplication all other riddles sink - into insignificance.—HUXLEY. - - -No human life can be maintained without food, and no healthy individual -life can be maintained without good food in sufficient quantity; -therefore, the relation of numbers to the actual food supply—in other -words, the Population Question—stands at the threshold of our social -inquiries and at the base of all social reform. - -At the beginning of last century, Malthus, who knew nothing of -evolution, expounded the doctrine that man tends to increase more -rapidly than the means of subsistence; that population and food, like -two runners of unequal swiftness chained together, advance side by side, -but the pace or natural rate of increase of the former is so immensely -superior to that of the latter that it is necessarily greatly checked. -And the checks are of two kinds. They are either positive—that is, -deaths occur from famine, accident, war or disease, and keep down the -population so that the means of subsistence are just sufficient to -enable the poorer classes barely to exist; or they are preventive—that -is, fewer births take place than man is capable of causing. - -This doctrine was a fertile germ of thought in the mind of Charles -Darwin. He, while conscious to some extent of the process of evolution, -was grappling with the great problems of differentiation and genesis of -species. How came it that the life which is assumed to develop from low -and simple to the highest and most complex forms everywhere exhibited -breaks, or sudden changes, in the apparently natural order? Darwin -perceived that a key to the enigma lay in the marvellous fecundity of -organisms. Each group reproduced its kind in overflowing numbers, and -accidental conditions destroyed individuals and groups that failed to -secure sufficient food or to protect themselves from enemies. Here were -factors of progress, but factors by no means admirable—a murderous -slaughter of the weak, a frantic struggle for existence, culminating in -violent death or slow starvation, ultimately in extinction. -Nevertheless, the medal had two sides, for the race is to the swift, the -battle to the strong; bread is the portion of the wise, favour the -reward of skill. Should we feel surprise that in a semi-theological and -metaphysical era, rather than a scientific one, Darwin formulated his -great discovery in terms suggesting not a cruel, but a beneficent -Nature? His law of natural selection, or survival of the fittest, -established itself in many minds as a sacred principle that man could -neither deny nor seek to counteract. - -Now this conception, carried into the field of economics, confused the -minds of men engaged in the study of facts and problems of human life -and progress. Political economists had to contemplate a social strife -and struggle for existence among men as fierce and relentless as that -holding sway in the brute kingdom. And in this struggle society as a -whole stood on the side of external nature as opposed to the mass of -striving individuals. A genetic, spontaneously developed system of -industry favoured a high birth-rate that kept wages low, an unscrupulous -exploitation of labour in the interests of capital, a wholesale -slaughter of infants, a crushing out or trampling down of the weak, and -a perpetual grinding of the face of the poor, while, simultaneously, -wealth was multiplying and capital becoming concentrated and easy of -control by the so-called princes of industry. Conditions of life to the -great mass of the people were fraught with constant misery; yet, since -Darwin had demonstrated—in his _Origin of Species_, published in -1858—that a struggle for existence eventuates in the survival of the -fittest, enlightened thinkers, with a few rare exceptions, accepted the -cruel facts of industrial life without any conscious moral revolt from -the system. - -“_Laissez-faire_” was the logical outcome of Darwinian law applied to -human affairs, and Darwin’s authority dominated the public mind of the -period. Christianity was teaching the principle that the poor would be -with us always; a poet cheerfully sang “God’s in His Heaven; All’s right -with the world; All’s love and all’s law,” and political economists -expounded the laws of demand and supply, of rent, of wages, of profits, -of interest, etc., without one hint or surmise that man himself was -bound to interfere with the action of derivative laws, to modify or even -annul them. - -Meanwhile an instinct of sympathy, rudimentary in primitive man, was -steadily growing and strengthening during all the transitions of tribal, -village-communal, feudal and national life, in the stormy militant -epoch, till the moment arrived when it compelled man’s interference. -Spontaneously, impulsively, individual philanthropy interposed between a -suffering humanity on the one hand, and on the other external nature and -a social system that were alike relentless. It supported the weak and -helped the unfit to survive. It deliberately selected the half-starved, -the diseased, the criminals, and enabled them to exist and propagate. -Finally it forced society to make laws subversive of the policy of -“_laissez-faire_,” thereby introducing a new order of things, -irrespective of all doctrinaire principles or authoritative teaching. -That new order of things is socialism, and the genesis of socialism is -distinctly to be traced to the vital element in human nature—unselfish -sympathy. - -The rise and progress of philanthropic action carries momentous issues -in various directions, both unfavourable and favourable to human -welfare. It has made the law of natural selection and survival of the -fittest obsolete for us as applied to man. It tends to a lowering of the -level of average health and a gradual _degenerating of the race_ through -selection of the unfit, and through the power of hereditary -transmission. It counteracts the positive or destructive checks to the -increase of population, and thereby extends the area of general misery. -Nevertheless, at the same time, it increases the strength and the -solidarity of human society, and becomes a new law of life. That law may -be called “Sympathetic Selection” and “Survival of the Gentle.” Darwin -in 1878 acknowledged its existence. He recognized it as a law in human -society superseding that of Natural Selection and Survival of the -Fittest. - -In 1801 the population of England and Wales was 8,892,536, or let us say -about nine millions. Eighty years later it had risen to about twenty-six -millions! The increase showed an accelerated rate according to the -census returns. Whereas in the ten years between 1841 and 1851 the -percentage of increase was 12·65, in those from 1861 to 1871 it was -13·19, and between 1871 and 1881 it was 14·34. In the United Kingdom in -1900 there has been an increase of 18 per cent. since 1880. - -Now Malthus had pointed out that with conditions of life comparatively -favourable, and an increase of food supply comparatively easy, -population was found to double itself in twenty-five years or less. Our -numbers during these eighty years had been, roughly speaking, trebled! -and the increase took place under conditions not favourable but -unfavourable to the bulk of the nation. Manufacturing industries had -enabled us to purchase food from abroad, and consequently a larger -number of children survived. Food, however, cannot always be forthcoming -in greater and greater abundance from countries that need more and more -of their own food supply, and which, by manufacturing for themselves, -are gradually reducing their demand for our manufactured commodities. - -Notwithstanding this patent fact, there are social reformers to-day who -persist in ignoring the population difficulty, and there are thinkers -who, basing their views on Herbert Spencer’s dictum that “man’s -fertility will be checked by his individuation,” pass it over lightly. -Generally speaking, however, the public conscience is now aroused, and -enlightened men and women are tolerably well alive to the fundamental -nature and the grave importance of the population question. - -“In some parts of the United States of America,” says an able writer, -“population has actually doubled itself, apart from immigration, in -twenty-five years; and this in the face of the ordinary retarding -influences. If such a rate of increase upon the present population of -the whole globe were to prevail for only 250 years, there would be left -but one square yard of standing room for each individual.” - -Again: “If we grant that a scientific treatment of crops would enable -food supplies to keep pace with population, and for this purpose -supposing that all the land in the planet Jupiter were available for a -market garden, it would not ultimately be want of food but want of room -that would put a stop to the increase of the multitude.” But further, -the above author—a mathematician—examines what the potentiality of -increase represents on the supposition that each individual merely died -the natural death of old age. “Under such favourable conditions as the -absence of war, famine and disease, the race might treble its numbers in -thirty years. To show the significance of the numerical law, let us -imagine it to operate undisturbed 3,000 years upon the progeny of a -single pair. The number of human beings finally existing would be -expressed by twice the 100th power of 3. An easy computation will show -that if these people were packed together, allowing six cubic feet of -space for each person, they would fill up the whole solar system in -every direction, and extend beyond it to a distance 430 times that of -the planet Neptune. In fact, a solid sphere of human beings would be -formed having a diameter of 2,400,000,000,000 miles. Such considerations -lead us to realize the absolute inevitableness of Nature’s checks upon -reproduction.” (_Social Evolution and the Evolution of Socialism_, by -George Shoobridge Carr, M.A., Cantab.) - -Turning now from scientific speculation to recognized authority in -practical politics, let me quote from a paper read at the -Registrar-General’s office on March 18, 1890, by Dr. William Ogle, -Superintendent of Statistics: “The population of England and Wales is, -as we all know, growing in a most formidable manner, and though persons -may differ in their estimates of the time when that growth will have -reached its permissible limits, no one can doubt that, if the present -rate of increase be maintained, the date of that event cannot possibly -be very remote.” - -Premising that the rate of increase is not due to the birth-rate only, -but also to a fall in the death-rate, and that voluntary philanthropy -and State interference influence the latter, we pass to the -consideration of conditions that affect the marriage-rate—consequently -the birth-rate—in the artisan and labouring classes, composing the bulk -of the nation. The Registrar-General, in his report for the year 1876, -wrote as follows: “The state of trade and national industry is -strikingly exhibited in the fluctuations of the marriage-rate of the -last nine years.... The period of commercial distress, which began about -the middle of 1866 and continued during five years ... influenced the -marriage-rates of these years, which were 17·5, 16·5, 16·1, 15·9, 16·1 -and 16·7 (in the 1,000) respectively. In 1872 and 1873 the working -classes became excited under the rapid advance of wages and the -diminution of the hours of labour, and the marriage-rates rose to 17·5 -and 17·6 respectively.” In his report for 1881 the Registrar-General -again accentuated this important point: “The marriage-rate reflects with -much accuracy the condition of public welfare.” And further on: “The -birth-rate was at its maximum in 1876, and fell uninterruptedly from -that date year by year in natural accordance with the corresponding -decline in the marriage-rate.” These years represented another period of -commercial depression. We have here then incontrovertible proof of the -national tendency. The mass of our people increase their numbers so soon -as they are more comfortable, and the marriage-rate for each year may be -called the pulse or indicator of the nation’s economic well-being. Its -fluctuations coincide with the upward and downward movements of -commercial activity. - -In this connexion we have also to note that the most rapid growth of our -population is taking place in the great industrial centres, the mining, -manufacturing and trading districts; and the type that there prevails is -necessarily affecting the British race. - -By the Parliamentary return of marriages, births and deaths registered -in England and Wales in the year 1881, it appeared that in different -districts the percentages of marriages varied considerably. It was -greater in the mining, manufacturing and trading districts than in the -farming districts, and much higher in London than in the provinces. In -the district comprising Hertford, Buckingham, Oxford, Bedford, -Cambridge, the rate equalled twelve persons per annum for each thousand -of the population. In London it was eighteen persons for each thousand, -and in the divisions which comprise Yorkshire and Lancashire the rate -was sixteen and seventeen persons to each thousand. As regards births, -the proportions stated were somewhat similar. In London there were -thirty-five births to one thousand of the population, whilst in the -southeastern division there were only thirty-one; but the rate rose -again to thirty-five and thirty-six in the great manufacturing districts -of the Midlands and the North. - -Dr. Ogle’s examination of statistics on the subject shows that this -state of things has continued, in its main features, up to the present -day. “Men marry,” he says, “in greater numbers when trade is brisk. The -fluctuations in the marriage-rate follow the fluctuations in the amount -of industrial employment.” “The rates vary very greatly in the different -registration counties.” “In London the rate is invariably high. Almost -all the counties in which the marriage-rate is high are counties in -which the population is also high of women engaged in industrial -occupations, and therefore presumably in receipt of independent wages, -while all the counties in which the marriage-rate is very low are also -counties in which but a very small population of the women are -industrially occupied.” The general drift of the figures leads to the -conclusion that early marriage is most common where there is the largest -amount of employment for women. - -The age at which marriage takes place is examined by Dr. Ogle as “a -subject of scarcely less importance than the rate in its bearing upon -the growth of the population.” And the point is of special interest in -view of the fact that delayed marriage was valued by Malthus as a -desirable preventive check. Dr. Ogle finds that the lowest average age -at marriage for both bachelors and spinsters, viz., 25·6 and 24·2 -respectively, was in 1873, the year in which the marriage-rate was -highest; and from that date to the present time the ages have gone up -gradually but progressively in harmony with the general decline in the -marriage-rate. In 1888 the average age of bachelors at marriage was 26·3 -years, and of spinsters was 24·7. - -Observe of late years there has been a slight decline of the -marriage-rate and a certain retardation of marriage, consequently the -birth-rate has fallen, but says Dr. Ogle, “so also has the death-rate, -and almost in equal amount; so that the balance between the two, or -natural increment of the population, has practically scarcely changed. -We may,” he observes, “dismiss altogether the notion that any adequate -check to the increase of population is hereafter to be found in -retardation of marriage. Such retardation may defer the day when a -stationary population will be necessary, but, when that day has come, -will be insufficient to prevent further growth. If a stationary -population is to be obtained by simple diminution of the marriage-rate, -that rate would have to be reduced 45 per cent. below the lowest point -it has ever yet reached. In short, almost one-half of those who marry -would have to remain permanently celibate. This seems as hopeless a -remedy as the retardation.” He makes clearer still this important -matter: “If one-quarter of the women who now marry were to remain -permanently celibate, and the remaining three-quarters were to retard -their marriages for five years, the birth-rate would be reduced to the -level of the present death-rate. It is manifest that if the growth of -population is hereafter to be arrested ... by increase of permanent -celibacy, or by retardation of marriage, these remedies will have to be -applied on a scale so enormously in excess of any experience as to -amount to a social revolution.” - -What, then, is the present position? - -Population tends to increase faster than actual subsistence. Obviously -it cannot outrun the supply of food because people cannot live upon -nothing. There ensues therefore a state of chronic starvation among the -most helpless, and premature deaths keep population reduced to the means -of subsistence. - -Let us glance at facts concerning London alone. London now contains over -4,300,000 persons. Three hundred thousand of these earn less than 18s. -per week per family, and live in a chronic state of want. One person in -every five will die in the workhouse, hospital, or lunatic asylum. -Moreover, the percentage is increasing. Considering that comparatively -few of the deaths are those of children, it is probable that one of -every four London adults will be driven into these refuges to die. - -One in every eleven of the whole population is a pauper. One in every -five of persons over 65 is a pauper. The appalling statistics of the -pauperism of the aged are carefully concealed in all official returns. -In 1885 Canon Blackley found that 42·7 per cent. of deaths of persons -over 60 in twenty-five rural parishes were those of paupers. Very many -children in the Board Schools go to school without sufficient food -unless supplied gratuitously. Over 30,000 persons in London have no home -but the fourpenny “doss-house” or the causal ward. (_Fabian Tracts_, -Nos. 10 and 17.) - -The death-rate of children in the poorest districts of the East End of -London is three times as great as among the rich at the West End. In -barbarous ages the death-rate was, as far as we can learn, far higher -than now, and even now the death-rate of children in Russia is extremely -high. - -We have little cause to rejoice in the absence of famine, pestilence and -war so long as the lowering of the death-rate—by sanitation, the -hospital system and the outcome generally of sympathetic -feeling—increases the proportion of human beings in a state of chronic -want, and produces a gradual enfeeblement and deterioration of the human -race. Yet it is inconceivable that rationalized man could withhold his -efforts to reduce the death-rate in the future because of the fatal -effects of his philanthropic action in the past. - -Darwin acknowledged this dilemma. In the year 1878 he somewhat sadly -wrote: “The evils that would follow by checking benevolence and sympathy -in not fostering the weak and diseased would be greater than by allowing -them to survive and procreate.” Ten years later Professor Huxley wrote: -“So long as unlimited multiplication goes on, no social organization -which has ever been devised, no fiddle-faddling with the distribution of -wealth, will deliver society from the tendency to be destroyed by the -reproduction within itself in its intensest form of that struggle for -existence, the limitation of which is the object of society.” -(_Nineteenth Century_, February, 1888.) - -Further than this he did not go; Huxley, like Darwin, brings us up to -the dilemma and leaves us there. Not such, however, is the position of -all scientific men in the present day. “We stand on the threshold of a -new departure in social evolution,” says the author already quoted, “a -new and potent factor in the process is about to make itself felt. This -factor is man’s intellect.... The intelligence of man will act -intelligently; population will not be subjected to mere haphazard -restriction; it will be regulated with a wise adaptation of means to an -end.” (_Social Evolution and the Evolution of Socialism_, G. S. Carr, -pp. 65, 66.) Man’s intelligence already perceives the right policy to -pursue. It is to lower the birth-rate, to limit births to a proportion -conformable with the food supply; in other words, to create a painless, -instead of a painful, equalization of births and deaths. - -Is there any other means of escape from the existent dilemma? I answer, -there is none. Emigration has sometimes been regarded as an efficient -check to over-population, and Dr. Ogle allows that “hitherto some of the -excess of births over deaths has been met by emigration, or rather by -excess of emigration over immigration; but never on such a scale as to -free the country from more than one-twentieth part of its redundant -growth.” Moreover, this minimum of good is counterbalanced by evil, for -emigration “carries off the more vigorous and enterprising of our -working men to the necessary deterioration of the residue left at home.” -And further: “The facilities for successful emigration are yearly -diminishing; the time must inevitably come—sooner or later—when this -means of reducing our population will altogether fail us.” - -In view of the obvious tendency of better conditions—when brought -about—to create a reduction of the death-rate and an acceleration of the -birth-rate, eventuating in an increase of general misery, neither -Malthus, Darwin, Huxley, nor any other great teacher of the past, has -given us applicable and available counsel. There only remains for us now -to consider Herbert Spencer’s opinion regarding this all-important -matter. He is credited with the demonstration of a law of population -wider than the laws discerned by Malthus and Darwin. The law is this: -“Other things equal, multiplication and individuation vary inversely, -i.e. the rate of reproduction of all living things becomes lowered as -the development is raised, and conversely.” (Lecture on “Claims of -Labour,” Edin., 1886, Patrick Geddes.) - -We have to do with this so-called law in respect only of its bearing on -practical action. The corollary deduced from it is: Individuate, educate -and refine your masses, for the rate of increase will fall as organisms -rise in the scale of culture. - -Now what are our prospects of any rapid advance in individuation -(development and culture) among the seething masses of a people who are -helpless and frightfully overcrowded by the action of the very law which -individuation is to counteract? In how long a period will the process be -likely to take effect? It is on the answer to these questions that the -worth of the principle as a law of practical guidance for humanity must -depend. - -Accepting it as a fact that in the families of our higher classes the -average number is distinctly smaller than in the families of our lower -classes, let us look for a moment at some of the causes creating this -difference. First, in the higher classes men may have mistresses whose -children are unacknowledged; and frequently they form the marriage tie -with heiresses whose hereditary tendency is necessarily—as expounded by -Francis Galton—towards sterility. Second, women of the higher classes -are often delicate. They cannot support the strain of frequent -maternity. Is this a condition that, in an advancing civilization, will -persist? By no means. The ideal of womanhood, as of manhood, points to -strength, not weakness—“a combination of brain power and skill with -bodily health and vigour. Many intellectual men are physically robust -and capable in a polygamous state of patriarchal propagation.” -(_Over-population_, John M. Robertson.) And it is impossible to doubt -that a rational education, embracing free play to activities hitherto -denied to the sex, and promoting physical development, will lift women -to a superior level of health and of physiological capacity. Third, the -higher classes avail themselves to some extent of neo-Malthusian -preventive checks, whereas the mass of the people are either ignorant of -them or opposed to their use. Fourth, enforced celibacy in the case of a -large proportion of women of the cultured classes is a cause of -relatively fewer numbers. Obviously it is from the “warrens of the poor” -that prolific life persistently springs. There we have the highest rate -of genesis; and as the refined restrain propagation and limit their -numbers, the poor enter the breach and fill up the ranks from their own -inferior stock. Now, mark the result. The individuating process is -checked, and ultimately fails, through the crowding out of the -individuated. What occurs, naturally, inevitably, by the action of the -process is a gradual subsidence, finally a limiting of the individuating -factor, the very social force to which Herbert Spencer directs -attention! Surely it suffices to point out “that no theory of the -ultimate effects of mere refinement on rate of increase can give us help -while nine-tenths of the human race are not refined, and not visibly in -the way of becoming so.” (_Over-population_, John M. Robertson.) - -We are compelled to dismiss Herbert Spencer’s “law of population” as -irrelevant to the situation, and to declare that he has no more solved -the riddle of the Sphinx than have Malthus, Darwin and Huxley. - -The population problem, as it faces us to-day, is serious beyond all -comparison. It is impossible to over-estimate the importance of finding -its true solution. But while thousands of men and women are ready now to -admit the seriousness, nowhere as yet has a movement appeared of united -action applicable and adequate to the exigency. - - - - - CHAPTER II - THE PROBLEM OF SEX - - How glorious will be the awakening when man’s desires will be - honoured, his passions utilized, his labour exalted, whilst life is - loved, and ever and ever creates love afresh.—ZOLA. - - -The Law of Population derives its force from an innate, powerful -instinct or passion in man, the unguarded exercise of which brings about -reproduction of the species. The thing therefore of greatest importance -to general well-being is the discovery of means whereby to prevent this -imperious instinct dominating and controlling the reproductive -conditions—which imperatively need to be governed by reason and moral -sense. - -The sexual instinct, irresponsibly exercised, keeps population up to the -margin of the means of subsistence—whatever that may be at the -time—perpetuates disease, constitutional weakness and inherited taint, -and frustrates the community’s best efforts to make life easier and -happier to all. - -My immediate purpose is to show that the prevention of all this evil is -possible, for rational man may slowly and surely guide the above vital -instinct into a new course—a course that will lead to the redemption of -his physical nature, the purifying and elevating of his intellectual and -emotional nature, and the direct creation of social virtue and -happiness. - -I must first point out the obstacles standing in the way of this -fundamental far-reaching readjustment. There is a fatal ignorance of the -true nature of the instinct in question, there is an obstinate prejudice -that prevents frank discussion of the subject, there is Puritan or -ascetic feeling that shuns pleasure as evil, and there is an optimistic -fatalism which, basing itself on Darwinian law—already superseded by -man’s interference—persists in the _laissez-faire_ policy, however -suicidal. - -Sexual relations form the background of human life and are the primary -sources of our finest emotions. Therefore the instinct that prompts to -sex-union ought to hold a supremely honourable place in public -estimation, and be carefully guarded from reproach and every hurtful or -degrading condition. This great factor in physical and emotional life -stands, at present, in disgrace. It is ignominiously repressed, it -produces heart-rending misery and unmitigated evil. Publicly and in -current literature, either it is ignored (hypocritically) or misjudged -and condemned; and all the time privately it is intensely felt; and in -every direction throughout society its licentious, furtive indulgence -swirls into the vicious circles of destruction, the broken hearts and -lives of women, the fallen dignity and besmirched consciences of men. - -If we look at the matter of sexual intercourse calmly and in the light -of pure reason alone, we must perceive that its intrinsic qualities are -good, not evil. It creates happiness in the giving and receiving of -pleasure, and the physiological exaltation connected with pleasure -promotes individual health and buoyancy. To quote Herbert Spencer: -“Pleasure increases vitality and raises the tide of life.” If man “eats -and drinks immoderately,” said W. R. Greg, “nature punishes him with -dyspepsia and disease; but nature never forbids him to eat when he is -hungry and to drink when he is thirsty, provided he does so with -discretion. Indeed, she punishes him equally if he abstains, as if he -exceeds.” Mr. Greg further showed that the action of nature is precisely -similar in respect of the sexual function. If man indulges to excess, he -is punished by premature exhaustion, with appropriate maladies, not -otherwise however. On the contrary, enforced and total abstinence is -punished often, if not habitually, by “nervous disturbance and suffering -and by functional disorder.” (_Enigmas of Life_, Chapter II.) Observe -also the sexual desire “is the especial one of all our animal wants -which is redeemed from animalism by being blended with our strongest and -least selfish affections; which is ennobled by its associations in a way -in which the appetites of eating and drinking and sleeping can never be -ennobled in a degree to which the pleasures of the eye and ear can be -ennobled only by assiduous and lofty culture.” (_Enigmas of Life._ W. R. -Greg, p. 71.) We have no fastidious recoil from eating and drinking -because these are merely animal functions. We take pains to improve our -methods of preparing food, and we embellish our repasts with -super-sensual surroundings in order to elevate the nutritive functions -and free them from grossness or brutality. The fundamentally animal -nature of sexual passion does not imply brutality, it is sociable to a -far greater degree than eating or drinking, and this element of -sociality purifies and ennobles, causing the function to become the -basis of tender unselfish love. In its physiological aspect we may rest -assured that the average normal human being has as little inherent -tendency to sexual excess as to gluttony or drunkenness. - -But apart from the question of excess, an attitude of mind towards the -whole subject is common which must be condemned. This attitude consists -of an element of shame, misnamed delicacy, and a sense of moral -superiority. Women chiefly cherish the feeling, but men pay homage to -it, with the result that in no friendly communion of men and women does -it seem compatible with good taste to discuss questions of sex. - -All vulgar allusions to love, all flippant talk on the subject of sex -are distinctly contrary to good taste, they dishonour human nature, but -I submit that it is an outrage on common sense, and an immoral action, -when students of the Population—or any other grave social question—allow -this spurious delicacy to interfere with their facing the whole facts of -life, or to bias judgment in reasoning from the facts. - -On the publication of my previous volume, _Scientific Meliorism and the -Evolution of Happiness_, in 1885, a woman of superior intellect and -attainments reviewed the book. One passage in her criticism stands thus: -“A certain instinct that in such matters the instinct of reprobation is -as healthy as it is superficially unreasonable, may make one sicken at -the suggestions of neo-Malthusianism.” (_The Academy_ of May 15th, -1886.) Such squeamishness is no indication of health or good taste. Its -unreasonableness condemns it, and the source from which it springs is -prejudice induced through specific conditions. The reviewer appears to -suspect as much, for, later she remarks: “One cannot put down the book -without a greatly increased sense of the supreme necessity of -criticizing all established theories and institutions and of the supreme -duty of refraining from precipitate action.” This is a sentiment one can -endorse, and I appeal to all my readers, especially to women, to refrain -from forming any judgment on any part of this difficult, all-important -problem, until they have mastered the subject in all its aspects. To -pursue the opposite course is to act irrationally and immorally. It -causes to spring up in other minds the prejudice which distorts and -disguises truth. - -In nutritive functions, all repulsive animalism becomes overborne, as -human nature refines and civilizes, and in a profounder sense the -brutality of sex-passion vanishes through the growth of a higher love, -which has for its dominant quality—not eagerness for possession—but -unselfish tenderness. This tenderness, permeating the individual and -extending its benign influence into society, issues in the gentle -manners and virtuous actions that seem to spring directly from a -universal principle of sympathy and love. - -The scientific exposition of the phenomena has long been before the -public. G. H. Lewes, in his _Problems of Life and Mind_, demonstrated -that whilst the individual functions of man (alimentation being one of -these) arise in relation to the cosmos, his general functions, including -sex-appetite, arise in relation to the social medium, and “animal -impulses become blended with human emotions,” until “in process of -evolution, starting from the merely animal appetite of sexuality, we -arrive at the purest and most far-reaching tenderness.” The social -instincts, which he calls analogues of the individual instincts, tend -more and more to make “sociality dominate animality and thus subordinate -personality to humanity.” (_Problems of Life and Mind_, vol. 1, p. 159.) - -It is only recently that the full significance of these facts has begun -to influence general thought and to create a revolt against the -unscientific attitude of mind that covers the sexual instinct with -contumely and hypocritical disdain. There dawns in consequence a new -light upon the afflicting problem of our social impurity. It is seen -that the horrible struggle for existence which makes grief and pain, -exhausting mental effort and physical restraint, enter so largely into -the lot of unhappy man, is the paramount evil to cast out. “The -wonderful cycles of normal life are for ever clean and pure.” (_The New -Spirit_, Havelock Ellis.) And with far more of sex-union—especially for -the young—and all the tender social joys that emanate from that union, -and far more of ease and happiness in life, there becomes possible a -great increase of goodness.[2] - -Footnote 2: - - It is well to know moments of material happiness, since they teach us - where to look for loftier joys.—_Wisdom and Destiny_, by Maurice - Maeterlinck. - -The late James Hinton spoke truly of the matter when he said: “Sensuous -pleasure will be to the moral life of the future as sense-impressions -are to the knowledge of the present, and with the same history. It will -not be a thing put aside as evil or degrading or misleading, but -recognized as the very basis and means of the life, and used with -enhancements and multiplied powers undreamt of by us.” And again, “This -is what sets the soul on fire—the union of goodness and pleasure. It is -a new possibility, a hope we never saw before, a means whereby all may -be brought into goodness.” (_The Law Breaker_, pp. 275, 236.) The key to -the position, he points out, is the taking of pleasure unselfishly and -with complete regard to the happiness of others. - -The region of sex is indeed to this day unreclaimed, but, as Mr. Ellis -asks: “Why should the sweetening breath of science be guarded from this -spot? Our attitude towards this part of life affects profoundly our -attitude towards life altogether.” (_The New Spirit_, pp. 127, 125). -Which of us has not felt the truth of that deep saying of Thoreau’s that -“for him to whom sex is impure there are no flowers in nature.” - -It is precisely here that development in the sense of purity gives a -sure hope of moral regeneration. And very remarkable is it that as in -the old days when prophetic poetry took the lead in all religious -reforms so now we have art in the van of social reform boldly -confronting the great enemies of progress—ignorance, pride, prejudice -and malicious insinuation. When Ibsen’s “Ghosts” was first put upon the -stage of a London theatre, a dramatic critic delivered himself thus: “It -is a dream of revolt—the revolt of the ‘joy of life’ against the gloom -of hidebound, conventional morality, the revolt of the natural man and -woman, the revolt of the individual against the oppression of social -prejudice. The joy of life, the joy of life—it rings like a clarion -through the play.” (_Star_ of March 14th, 1891.) The fine women of -Ibsen’s creation speak out upon questions of sex with a pure, earnest -candour that breathes a new morality, and this moral element is one of -the central features in Whitman’s attitude towards sex. For the lover, -there is nothing in the loved one impure or unclean; a breath of passion -has passed over, and all things are sweet. For most of us this influence -spreads no farther, for the man of strong moral instinct it covers all -human things in infinitely widening circles; his heart goes out to every -creature that shares the loved one’s delicious humanity, henceforth -there is nothing human that he cannot touch with reverence and love. -_Leaves of Grass_ is penetrated by this moral element. (_The New -Spirit_, Havelock Ellis, p. 123.) - -Walt Whitman himself says: “Difficult as it will be, it has become, in -my opinion, imperative to achieve a shifted attitude from superior men -and women towards the thought and fact of sexuality as an element in -character, personality, the emotions, and a theme in literature.” (_How -I made a Book._ An Essay by Walt Whitman.) - -The principles underlying the new morality may be thus stated: Goodness -does not consist in starving or denying any normal animal appetite, -therefore chastity in the sense of total abstinence is essentially -immoral. Life is not so prodigal of joys that man can wisely forego any -source of innocent happiness, hence asceticism has no place in a -rational theory and code of morals. The course for rational man to adopt -in reference to sexual appetite is duly to satisfy and regulate it; and -by removing every loathsome condition that superinduces degradation, to -compel it to raise the tide of life in promoting individual comfort and -general virtue. - -To the reader who grasps the population problem it may seem that this -moral code would place society on the horns of a painful dilemma, for -while morality is said to require a closer union between the sexes than -has hitherto prevailed, propagation—which is the actual result of that -union—must be limited to an extent hitherto unknown, and by many people -deemed impossible of attainment. By its patient investigations of -nature, however, science here comes to the rescue of those whose -standpoint in viewing the sexual problem is one of ardent sympathy with -the essential needs and the moral aspirations of man in a social -position truly pathetic. - -Physiology has revealed that sexual organs are naturally divided into -amative and reproductive organs, each class functionally distinct from -the other. Amative organs relate primarily to sexual union, while -reproductive organs relate primarily to impregnation and gestation. The -process of reproduction may take place without use of the amative organs -by simply bringing spermatozoa to ova (this has been done), and on the -other hand the amative organs can be exercised without effecting -reproduction. Sexual intercourse and procreation are not vitally -related, as they are ordinarily assumed to be. - -Moreover, the instincts connected with sexual union and with offspring -are separate and distinct. In popular, confused thought, a reproductive -instinct is attributed to animals and man. In reality, no direct -instinct to reproduce the species exists. Animals unite sexually from an -instinct directed to a pleasurable exercise of function; and although, -in man, the relation has been made complex by his knowledge of the facts -of reproduction and of social life, the sexual instinct is connected -solely with pleasure and social feeling—not with reproduction. On the -other hand, instincts associated with the presence and nurture of the -young are not sexual or related to sexual passion. Therefore any -doctrine requiring man’s exercise of the sexual function to be -restricted to the end of reproduction is without justification in nature -and directly conflicts with the facts of life. - -The sexual act, in the natural order of things, is only occasionally in -accidental relation to the reproductive process, for with married people -in a thousand acts only a dozen may be reproductive. If social morality -then requires the satisfaction of normal sexual feeling—and I think I -have shown this to be the case—the desideratum is to prevent at will -instead of leaving to accident the above occasional relation, and make -the separation between amative and reproductive conditions as complete -as their functional separation. - -An American writer has well said: “If there is one social phenomenon -which human ingenuity ought to bring completely under the control of the -will, it is the phenomenon of procreation.” “Just as everyone is his own -judge of how much he shall eat and drink, of what commodities he wants -to render life enjoyable, so everyone should be his own judge of how -large a family he desires, and should have power in the same degree to -leave off when the requisite number is reached.” (Lester F. Ward. -_Dynamic Sociology_, vol. 2, p. 465.) The Bible Communists of Oneida -Creek practised voluntary control over the propagative function during -thirty years with marked success. The number of births was regulated in -accordance with the wishes of the community, and such careful attention -was paid to the laws of heredity that no children of defective organisms -or unsound constitutions were born. Were man universally intelligent and -morally self-controlled, the knowledge of physiological facts and of -invention applied to those facts would suffice to create general -spontaneous limitation of the birth-rate and hygienic propagation of -species. But one has only to think of the battered humanity in the back -slums of every great city—the physical, mental and moral weaklings of -our degraded populace—to realize that it is fantastic folly to expect -individual intelligence under vicious and utterly depressing conditions, -to counteract habit and save society from a rising tide of overwhelming -numbers, the product of random pregnancy and sportive chance. - -It cannot be a solution nor even a relief to the population difficulty -that the intelligent—comparatively few—should limit their families so -long as the masses refuse or fail to limit theirs. When society, -becoming fully alive to the imminent danger of a too rapid birth-rate -solves the population and social problems combined—in the only way -possible—it will facilitate and promote the use of scientific checks to -conception, and, if necessary, exact their adoption by some legislative -device. (See _Social Control of the Birth-rate_, by G. A. Gaskell.) - -By the aid of these personal means of avoiding or preventing conception -the desired complete separation of amative and reproductive conditions -is effected. Love is set free to rule in its own domain, and reason -controls procreation to the infinite benefit of all future generations. -In an article by Mr. J. Holt Schooling in the _Contemporary Review_ for -February, 1902, entitled “The Natural Increase of Three Populations,” it -is shown how widely in the United Kingdom the use of preventive checks -has spread within the last twenty years. The writer says in comparing -the birth-rates of Germany, England and France since 1880: “There has -been a fall in the birth-rate during each period in each country. But -England’s fall has been larger than all; larger than the fall in the -French birth-rate. During 1880–1884 there were 323 births per year per -10,000 of our population; during 1895–1899 there were only 291 births -per year per 10,000 of population—a yearly fall of 32 births per 10,000 -of population. France’s fall was 28 births and Germany’s fall was only -10 births, although Germany’s birth-rate was higher throughout than that -of England or of France.” This is very satisfactory, and in regard to -the strength of a nation that depends upon the adults, and there are -more adults in a population where the children are fewer. The death-rate -in England during the last twenty years has been always the lowest of -the three countries. - -At the present moment, society has no scientific sex-philosophy -whatever. It affects to be governed by Puritanism—a vague doctrine -belonging to the past history of the race and not in connexion with any -ethical code directed to the development of goodness through a careful -regard to the happiness of man and the satisfaction of his normal human -nature. Puritanism, whether affected or real, spreads abroad hypocrisy, -deceit, lying; it tends to licentiousness in men and the utter -defilement of women, to social disorder and decay. Above all, it -frustrates the development of that higher love, which, having animalism -allied, but subordinate, fills the mind with exquisite emotion and -creates unselfish delights. - -Many years ago Miss Martineau wrote: “A thing to be carefully remembered -is that asceticism and licentiousness universally co-exist. All -experience proves this, and every principle of human nature might -prophesy the proof. Passions and emotions cannot be extinguished by -general rules.” (_How to observe Morals and Manners_, p. 169.) -Puritanism ignores the sexual needs of the young. In a scientific age -man is bound to recognize physiological reasons for early satisfaction -of the sexual appetite and physiological reasons for delayed parentage. - -Of the former, I have here to say that an early moderate stimulation of -the female sexual organs (after puberty is reached) tends, by the law of -exercise promoting development of structure, to make parturition in -mature life easy and safe; and that the healthy functional and emotional -life of love and gratified passion is the best preventive of hysteria, -chlorosis, love melancholy, and other unhappy ailments to which our -young women are cruelly and barbarously exposed, and which, I do not -hesitate to say, make them in many cases feel their youth to be an -almost insufferable martyrdom. - -There are no less serious sexual evils which overtake masculine youth, -if continent, namely, persistent and miserable cravings, abnormally -directed instinct, spermatorrhoea, self-abuse; and these are usually -hidden from sight and knowledge in consequence of a feeling that, in -sexual matters, adults have no sympathy with the young. - -In _Lecky’s History of European Morals_, vol. 2, p. 301, prostitution is -thus referred to:—“However persistently society may ignore this form of -vice, it exists, nevertheless, and on the most gigantic scale, and an -evil rarely assumes such inveterate and perverting forms as when it is -shrouded in obscurity and veiled by a hypocritical appearance of -unconsciousness. The existence in England of unhappy women, sunk in the -very lowest depths of vice and misery ... shows what an appalling amount -of moral evil is festering uncontrolled, undiscussed and unalleviated -under the fair surface of decorous society.” The number of London -prostitutes was estimated at 80,000 in the year 1870. Since then, it has -probably increased. In Paris, according to Von Dettingen, the actual -number at that period was upwards of 60,000; in Berlin, 25,000 to -30,000. In Hamburg, in 1860, every ninth woman above the age of 15 was a -prostitute, and in Leipzig the women depending principally or -exclusively on prostitution was estimated at 2,000. This field of -prostitution encloses whole armies of women finding there their only -means of earning a miserable livelihood and a corresponding number of -victims claimed by death and disease. (_Woman in the Past, Present and -Future._ August Bebel, pp. 100–101.) - -The prostitute, in her thousands; the married drudge, weary of -child-bearing; the desolate old maid; these are all alike victims to -social oppression. They are compelled to abstain from, or compelled to -engage in, a specific function which is only natural, pleasurable, -healthful and virtuous in the absence of all tyranny. Love to be real -must be prompted by personal desire, and free to express itself in -unhurtful conditions: I mean conditions that involve individual liberty, -social respect and human dignity. The facts of prostitution alone would -amply suffice to put Puritanism out of court in social reform. As a -result of conduct, it has no control over vicious propensities, whilst -it restrains tormentingly impulses that are normal and virtuous, that -need only fitting conditions of healthful freedom. - -Discarding asceticism and conventional purism as alike immoral, the -social reforms that are based on a knowledge of human nature and a -knowledge of the possibilities allied with conscious evolution, will -bring all the institutions of our social life into accordance with the -needs of the individual; and one essential condition of happy life is -sexual love, with such union of the sexes as conforms to the general or -collective interests. - -In view of the law of population, and the fact that science has made -plain how practically to separate the amative from the reproductive -conditions of physical union, the love of the sexes can harmonize with -the highest interests of our collective social life, and eugenics, _not -sexual love_, may become paramount in generation. - -What social morality requires is that the forces of philoprogenitiveness -and a public conscience combined should dominate the function of -reproduction, while love is left free from coercive control in the -sphere of individual life. - - - - - CHAPTER III - EUGENICS OR STIRPICULTURE - - The first step towards the reduction of disease is beginning at the - beginning to provide for the health of the unborn.—Dr. RICHARDSON. - - -The whole theory concerning heredity and its marvellous influence for -good or evil is a nauseous draught for mankind to swallow. No wonder we -revolt instinctively from a doctrine that charges tender parents with -transmitting an evil heritage to the offspring they passionately love. -“Although many important books draw attention to the facts, as far as -they are ascertained, these momentous facts have as yet made no -impression on the general mind.” (_Scientific Meliorism and the -Evolution of Happiness_, p. 329.) This statement is no longer true. It -was written in 1884, and since then immense strides have been made in -the realization of the action of heredity. The subject is frequently and -persistently brought forward now, and urged upon the attention of the -public. Zola’s _mère idée_ is not found only in French fiction, the new -Russian school of fiction is permeated by it; and even in England some -novelists, following in the footsteps of George Eliot, are assuming a -scientific attitude towards life, and the facts of heredity are not -ignored. - -Moreover, in science and in all high-class criticism of life the -doctrine of heredity is directly taught. - -Apart from purely literary work, the examination of criminal statistics -as a whole, and the practical observations of physicians, doctors, -dentists, schoolmasters, poor-guardians, systematized and made public at -congresses and stored in scientific handbooks so inexpensive as to be -well within reach of all students—these, I say, combine to impress upon -the general mind the conviction that racial degeneracy is a palpable -fact; and that inheritance is prime factor in the degenerating process. -And recently indeed a suspicion of danger in over-estimating this factor -has been publicly expressed. Whereas formerly, it is said, a child was -supposed to be born with a mind like a clean sheet of paper, on whose -fair surface we might write what we chose, opinion points in the present -day to an opposite extreme, viz., this, that the hereditary tendencies -born with the child determine its future career, and that education -cannot modify this destiny in any essential respect. Now, to disallow -the importance of education as also a prime factor in progress is an -error of judgment; but so long as the human race continues scourged by -sickness, martyred by pain, demoralized by disease and innate debility, -and decimated by premature death, it is not possible for thinkers to -over-estimate the profound significance for weal or woe of this question -of heredity. - -Where individual life is not menaced by poverty or destitution, disease -is the bane of existence, the barrier to physical comfort and to both -mental and moral advance. Alas! how few of us have any permanent -possession of sound health. In spite of medical science, sanitary -protection, progress made during the last hundred years in knowledge of -pathological conditions, and vast resources now at our command for -subduing and mitigating every form of physical evil, disease dogs our -footsteps from infancy to maturity and onwards to the grave. We have the -young attacked by consumption, the middle-aged suffering from failing -health, the aged struck by paralysis or bowed down by rheumatism; and -everywhere we meet husbands and wives permanently saddened by the loss -of the chosen companion of their life, and mothers whose light-hearted -buoyancy died out for ever when the babe, prized beyond all treasure, -was snatched from their arms to be laid in our appallingly numerous -children’s graves. - -In order to form an approximately correct conception of disease, we must -glance for a moment at the conditions of health. Life in all its forms, -physical or mental, morbid or healthy, is in close relation to the -individual organism and external forces. Health, as the consequence and -evidence of a successful adaptation to the conditions of existence, -implies the preservation, well-being and development of the organism; -while disease marks a failure in organic adaptation to external -conditions, and leads to disorder, decay and death. - -If we could perceive all the conditions, outward and inward, and take -them into account, a distinct line of causation would become apparent. -We should find disease no more an accident than the storm that breaks -upon the seaboard or the volcanic flames that burst from the mountain -top. The extreme complexity and delicacy of biological phenomena -precludes a wide grasp of conditions in individual cases, but scientific -investigation has established the point that of the antecedents to -disease the largest proportion is some heritage of weakness transmitted -from parents—some disabilities for healthy life resulting from a bad -descent. - -When, for instance, mental anxiety produced by adverse circumstances is -said to have made a man mad, there is implied some inherent infirmity of -nervous element which has co-operated. “Were the nervous system in a -state of perfect soundness and in possession of that reserve power which -it then has of adapting itself, within certain limits, to the varying -external conditions, it is probable,” says Maudsley, “that the most -unfavourable circumstances would not disturb permanently the relation -and initiate mental disease. But when unfavourable action from without -conspires with an infirmity of nature within, then the conditions of -disorder are established and a discord or madness is produced.” (_The -Physiology and Pathology of the Mind_, p. 199.) - -Thus although outward circumstances often decide the character of a -disease, inherited infirmity is its primary cause. A being liable to -madness, if subjected to anxiety, may, under different conditions, -acquire not madness but consumption. A child may fall a victim to the -special ailment from which one or both parents suffered; but equally it -is possible that disease in him may assume a totally different form. All -that can be affirmed with certainty is this: of diseased parents the -offspring invariably inherit a constitution liable to “some kind of -morbid degeneration, or a constitution destitute of that reserve power -necessary to meet the trying occasions of life!” - -The trying occasions of life have multiplied with every new complexity -in social structure; and there has been no corresponding increase of -constitutional strength; but, on the contrary, a growing feebleness of -physique and instability of nerve-function. “Our children in these -times,” remarks Dr. Richardson, “are our reproach. Where is there a -healthy child? You may put before me a child showing to the unskilled -mind no trace of disease.... It is sure to have some inherited failure. -We are as yet unacquainted with all the phenomena of disease that pass -in the hereditary line.... We admit, as proved, scrofula or struma, -cancer, consumption, epilepsy, rheumatism, gout. It would be wrong to -limit the hereditary proclivities of disease to this list. The further -my own observations extend, the stronger is the impression made on my -mind that the majority of the phenomena of disease have hereditariness -of character.” (_Diseases of Modern Life_, p. 38.) Sir James Paget and -Sir William Jenner gave evidence of a similar kind before a Committee of -the House of Lords in 1882. From the former eminent physician’s speech I -may quote one passage: “We now know that certain diseases of the lungs, -liver and spleen are all of syphilitic origin, and the mortality from -syphilis in its later forms is every year found to be larger and larger, -by its being found to be the source of a number of diseases which -previously were referred to other origins.” (_The Times_ Report, August -11th, 1882.) - -In August Bebel’s work on _Woman, her Position in the Past, Present and -Future_, this passage occurs: “With regard to the decimating effects of -venereal disease, we will only mention that in England between 1857 and -1865 the authenticated cases which ended fatally amounted to over -12,000, among which no fewer than 69 per cent. were children under -twelve months, the victims of parental infection.” (p. 101.) - -Of the original source from which syphilis sprang, of its implication in -the sex problem, and of the ultimate eradication of its virus—to be -attained only by the true solution of the sex problem—we cannot here -speak; the point under immediate consideration is the fact that the -civilized races of mankind persist in propagating and perpetuating -disease. They unscrupulously bring into the world individual organisms -that are pre-destined to failure because not endowed with the potential -qualities indispensable to complete and successful life. - -In America the same conditions are noted and publicly referred to. Mr. -Nathan Allen, M.D., before a medical society at Massachusetts, reported: -“A gradual change is taking place in the organization of our New England -people—a change which has occurred principally within the last two or -three generations. The nervous temperament with all its advantages and -disadvantages is becoming too predominant for other parts of the body. -The frame-work of the body generally is not so large ... the countenance -is paler, the features are more pointed and not so expressive of health. -We have a larger class of diseases arising from general debility ... we -have more disease of the brain and nervous system, more sudden deaths -from apoplexy, paralysis, and also diseases of the heart. In sound -healthy stock we have in a far higher degree the recuperative powers of -nature; while the original constitution is feeble, diseases of almost -every kind become complicated, and their treatment more difficult as -well as doubtful in result.” - -Laws of inheritance affect the moral as well as the physical and mental -health of the nation. Their action is fatally legible in the public -records of crime. Not that many criminals inherit the actual attributes -of crime—brutality, cruelty, malignity, propensity to abnormal sexual -practices—these develop through the interaction of external with -internal forces—but the ordinary criminal is born deficient in the -elemental qualities necessary to the establishment of the average moral -nature. - -From observations carried on in English prisons, it appears that in -these days of careful school-board education 25 per cent. of prisoners -can neither read nor write, and a certain number are quite incapable of -receiving and benefiting by school instruction. “The memory and -reasoning powers are so utterly feeble that attempts to school them is a -waste of time.” (_Crime and its Causes_, William Douglas Morrison, of -H.M. Prison, Wandsworth, p. 195.) Intellectually, criminals are -“unquestionably less gifted than the rest of the community”; emotionally -they “have the family sentiment only feebly developed,” and morally the -will is “morbidly variable.” A prisoner may be animated by good -resolutions, anxious to do what is right, often possessing a sense of -moral responsibility, yet may plunge again and again into crime from the -absence of a sustained power of volition. “Persons afflicted in this way -are generally convicted for crimes of violence, such as assault, -manslaughter, murder. They experience real sentiments of remorse, but -neither remorse nor penitence enables them to grapple with their evil -star. The will is stricken with disease, and the man is dashed hither -and thither a helpless wreck on the sea of life.” - -The harmony of the social organism depends upon congruity of thought and -feeling in its members and upon action made promptly conformable through -exercise of the power of control centred in the inner part or spiritual -nature of man. - -A criminal is an unsocial man, an undeveloped being, one, generally -speaking, whose pregenital stock was below par, and failed in the -conservation, development and transmission of a physical, mental and -moral capacity equalling that of the average of his race. The physical -debility or inherited tendency to nerve weakness—so universal in the -present day—has clearly a causal relation with the increase of crime -deplored by the principal authorities on the subject in Europe and -America. - -In the United States we are told by Mr. D. A. Wells and by Mr. Howard -Wines, an eminent specialist in criminal matters, that crime is steadily -increasing at a faster rate than in due proportion to the increase of -population. Nearly all the chief statisticians abroad tell the same -tale. Dr. Mischler, of Vienna, and Professor Von Liszt, of Marburg, draw -a deplorable picture of the increase of crime in Germany. In France, the -criminal problem is as formidable and perplexing as in Germany. M. Henri -Joli estimates that crime has increased 133 per cent. within the last -half century, and is steadily rising. Taking Victoria as a typical -Australasian colony, we find that even in the antipodes, which are not -vexed to the same extent as Europe with social and economic -difficulties, crime is persistently raising its head ... it is a more -menacing danger among the Victorian Colonists than it is at home. -(_Crime and its Causes_, W. D. Morrison. Published in 1891, pp. 12 and -13.) - -While physical degeneracy creates crime, a non-moral life on the other -hand causes further physical deterioration. The pursuit of wealth for -purely personal ends is pre-eminently anti-social. Breadth of thought -and social feeling grow impossible to the man whose life is devoted to -the business of amassing riches; and Dr. Henry Maudsley gives it as his -conviction, based upon wide observation of family life, that such men -are extremely unlikely to beget healthy children. In cases where the -father has toiled upwards from poverty to vast wealth, “I have witnessed -the results,” he says, “in a degeneracy mental and physical of his -offspring which has sometimes gone as far as extinction of the family in -the third or fourth generation. I cannot but think after what I have -seen that the extreme passion for getting rich does predispose to mental -degeneration in the offspring, either to moral defect or to moral and -intellectual deficiency, or to outbreaks of positive insanity under the -conditions of life.” (_The Physiology and Pathology of the Mind_, p. -206.) - -This fact alone is amply sufficient to condemn an industrial system that -creates monopolies, concentrates wealth, stimulates greed, degrades the -upper classes by superfluous luxury, the lower by envy, poverty, -despair, and tends generally to physical, mental and moral decay. But -were the entire economic system judiciously reconstructed, fatal -elements would remain so long as man fails to grapple with the -biological problem and fails to bring the great life forces of -reproduction under conscientious direction and control. - -Gravitation and all well studied mechanical and chemical forces have -been adapted by man to special purposes in relation with his civilized -life; even so must the sexual forces that belong to his basic existence -be in their turn dominated and made conformable with his higher moral -and spiritual needs. In this regard his primary need is that there shall -be no transmission of disease or constitutional debility from one -generation to another; but that the entire strength of the laws of -heredity shall create an improvement of stock and thereby lift humanity -to a higher level of physical health and efficiency. - -In seeking the true method of attaining this end, it is our duty to look -first to the teaching of the great founders of social philosophy. -Without their invaluable services in discovering and setting forth the -one unbroken process of law which “connects all phenomena from the -motion of molecules and the courses of the suns to the phenomena of -human thought and the destinies of nations” (J. M. Robertson), no -intellects could to-day grasp the causes of misery and, conceiving the -possibility of circumventing these causes, devise a scheme of scientific -action to reverse the trend of general movement and evolve conditions of -genuine and universal happiness. - -In _this_ sphere, however—the sphere of _eugenics_, or improvement of -the human stock, as also in regard to the population and sex -problems—Darwin and Herbert Spencer have failed us. The mind of the -former, habituated to dwell on the favourable aspects of the struggle -for existence during the early epochs of man’s history, was blind to the -consequences of the genesis and growth of the broadly social element in -man. Barbarous man could let cosmic forces prevail to exterminate the -weak. Sympathetic man is compelled by virtue of his enlarged subjective -nature to institute a new struggle, viz., a struggle against the -struggle for existence (a phrase used by Lange), and already his triumph -is everywhere visible in the survival of the unfit to struggle. - -Darwin opposed the proposal to restrain population on the score that -this would minimize the struggle which had created civilization in the -past and which must needs, he thought, carry it on in the future, and -both Darwin and Herbert Spencer “assumed that a generalization which -sums up the progressive forces of a collectively unconscious society, -i.e. a society without the conception of evolution and of a universal -sociology, must equally sum up the progressive principles of a -collectively _conscious_ society, a society which has realized evolution -and is constructing a universal sociology. Though they themselves are -our greatest helpers towards such consciousness, they failed to realize -that our attainment of it must revolutionize human history.” (_Modern -Humanists_, J. M. Robertson, p. 234). - -Turning then to less illustrious men, Mr. Francis Galton is our most -advanced teacher in the field of eugenics. He faces the problem of race -regeneration and has put forth a scheme or policy of action, resting on -Dr. Matthews Duncan’s alleged facts regarding the relative fertility in -early and late marriages. He shows that a group of a hundred mothers -whose marriages and those of their daughters should take place at the -age of twenty, would, in the course of a few generations, breed down a -group of a hundred mothers whose marriages and those of their daughters -were delayed until the age of twenty-nine. Let us then, he reasons, -promote by every means in our power the early marriage of human beings -of superior quality, whilst we discountenance early marriage in those -social members who are less favourably endowed. And “few,” he says, -“would deserve better of their country than those who determine to live -celibate lives through a reasonable conviction that their issue would -probably be less fitted than the generality to play their part as -citizens.” (_Inquiries into Human Faculty_, p. 336.) - -In examination for official appointments he would have attention paid to -a candidate’s ancestral qualifications as well as his personal ability. -The man of inherited sound constitution and average ability should be -preferred to the man of superior ability who belongs to a delicate and -short-lived family. The former will in all probability become the more -valuable servant of the two. Some scheme should be devised by which to -bestow marks for family merit, to put, as it were, a guinea stamp to the -sterling guinea’s worth of natural nobility; and this, he conceives, -might set a great social avalanche in motion. It would open the eyes of -every family, and of society at large, to the importance of marriage -alliance with a good stock; it would introduce the subject of race as a -permanent topic of consideration, and lead to a careful collecting of -family histories and noting of those facts which are absolutely -necessary for guidance in right conduct. Late marriage, as advised by -Malthus, Mr. Galton utterly condemns. The prudent alone are influenced -by that doctrine, and it is, he says, a most pernicious rule of conduct -in its bearing upon race. His policy, then, is early and fruitful -marriage for the best specimens of our race, and widespread celibacy in -the case of those less highly favoured, whilst everywhere the sentiment -should prevail that _eugenics_, or the improvement of the human stock, -is the primary consideration in marriage and the guiding principle in -sex relations. - -This theory I hold to be one-sided, and the policy misleading and to -some extent false. Mr. Galton ignores the fundamental principle of -social life, viz., that the happiness of all, at all times, should be -the aim and object of rational man, and he mistakes the quality of human -nature in highly civilized man. To demand celibacy of men and women -whose defective organisms it is not desirable to perpetuate, would be in -hundreds and thousands of instances to sacrifice unnecessarily present -happiness to future gain—to build up the comfort and enjoyment of coming -generations at the expense of the comfort and enjoyment of our own -generation. The sentiment of justice repudiates this action as well as -condemns the reverse position of a reckless self-indulgent procreating -to the deterioration of the human stock, whilst reason distinctly shows -that individual liberty, in respect of marriage, is a social necessity -perfectly compatible with the well-being of all. Physical regeneration -of race will not be achieved by an overstrained morality that does -violence to the emotional human nature of the normal and average man. - -Mr. Galton’s system of social reform accords in some respects with that -which it is the purpose of this work to set forth. Both systems premise -teaching that it is man’s duty and within his power to improve the -physical, intellectual and moral structure of his race. He may, in part, -achieve this by intelligent forethought and careful action in exercising -the function of propagating his kind. Population must not be kept up by -consumptives or persons whose pedigree is tainted by any disease known -to be hereditary, and public opinion must enforce the necessary -restraints. (Temporary illness ought also to be considered. It is when -parents are in their best state of health only that they are morally -justified in bringing children into the world.) - -Of these, celibacy is a restraint commended and advised by Mr. Galton, -whilst scientific meliorism deliberately rejects it, for celibacy is a -vital evil, destroying individual happiness and tending obviously to -social disorder. Wherever love in its highest form exists between two -individuals, union is eminently desirable; but if either or both be -afflicted by disease or hereditary taint, the sacrifice demanded of them -is to carefully abstain from giving birth to children. Whether the means -adopted be those of natural self-control or of artificial aids to -self-control will depend on the views of the individuals immediately -concerned, and in this matter society has no right of interference. - -It is the business, however, of society to sweep away ignorance and make -it possible for the poor as well as the rich to enter on the right path -voluntarily, and where, from physical or moral degeneracy, -self-regulation is impossible, society must exercise authority and -coercively restrain the vital social force of propagation. It will not -be by means of the lonely lives celibacy entails that civilized men and -women will refrain from having children disqualified for useful -citizenship. We shall, to quote the late poet laureate’s words, “move -upward, working out the beast, and let the ape and tiger die,” by other -means more worthy of humanity, i.e. by socialized freedom and sex -equality; by intelligent self-control voluntarily practised (with or -without artificial appliance), and by control, enforced wherever -necessary by the State in fulfilment of its responsible duty—the careful -guardianship of the congenital blood of future generations. - -In the savage epoch of our history, the force of natural selection -produced survival of the fittest. From that epoch we have long since -passed into a semi-civilized epoch in which the force of sympathetic -selection produces a miserable state of indiscriminate survival; we have -now to pass forward to the epoch in which the rational force of a wise, -intelligent selection will systematically secure the birth of the -physically fit. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - MARRIAGE - - Marriage is that union of the sexes which is most in accordance with - the moral and physical necessities of human beings and which - harmonizes best with their other relations of life.—RICHARD HARTE. - - -It is of vast importance to bear clearly in mind that all the great -social institutions that confront us to-day are of genetic origin and -evolution. They have not been devised by man to bring about the true end -of all intelligent effort—namely, happiness. They are simply the -undesigned, unforeseen results of various natural and social forces of -the past. They survive through their tendency to maintain the existence -of the race. They subserve life, not happiness. It is not my intention -to treat marriage historically and trace back the various forms of it to -their social origins. It is sufficient to bear in mind the fact of the -natural, undevised origin of every form, including that form of monogamy -which prevails in the most civilized countries of to-day. _A priori_, we -should have expected that monogamy, being the ideal sex-union of the -civilized races of Western Europe, would have been everywhere the last -form to appear; that, in short, its fitness to survive all other forms -would be shown by lateness of development as well as by superior -qualifications for satisfying the needs of a highly developed humanity. -This is not so, however. Mr. Herbert Spencer gives reasons for believing -that monogamy dates as far back as any other marital relation. “Indeed, -certain modes of life necessitating wide dispersion such as are pursued -by the lowest forest tribes in Brazil and the interior of Borneo—modes -of life which in earlier stages of human evolution must have been -commoner than now—hinder other relations of the sexes.” (_Sociology_, -vol. i. p. 698.) Two of the lowest tribes of savages existing, the -Wood-Veddahs of Ceylon and the Bushmen of South Africa, are customarily -monogamous. It is plain, therefore, that if monogamy is to be reckoned -the final form of sexual relations, no argument can be based on any -theory of its recent date in evolution. The opinion must seek to rest -upon different ground—upon the quality of the institution, its fitness -and adequateness, not only to human needs in the present system of -society, but in the reformed system of the future. - -While a number of primitive tribes are monogamous, as also are certain -monkeys and birds, many civilized peoples have adopted polygamy, -sometimes openly, at other times in a masked form. Polyandry is also a -form of marriage not uncommon among semi-civilized peoples, as the Nairs -of Malabar, the Kandyans of Ceylon and the Tibetans. - -The Nairs are especially interesting because there is among them a -regulated system of complex marriage which will compare in its results -very favourably with the monogamous marriage of Western nations. The -rule of the Matriarchate prevails, “inheritance is from mother to -daughter and from the uncle to the children of the eldest sister; the -household is directed by the mother or the eldest girl; polyandry and -polygamy exist side by side or are inextricably mixed. Thus each woman -is the wife of several men, each of whom has in turn several wives.” -(Elisee Reclus, _Primitive Folk_, p. 162.) The men are under -well-understood obligations to assist in the support of the domestic -establishments, while the children look up to their mothers and uncles -as their special protectors. The result of these customs on the status -of women is most remarkable. It is said that “in no country are women -more influential and respected than in Malabar.” (Ibid. p. 156.) The -Nair lady may possess property, choose her own husbands and rule her own -children. Marriage is not, as elsewhere, the taking possession of a -woman by the man, but is really her emancipation from male thraldom. It -puts her as nearly on a footing of social equality with the man as is -possible in a semi-militant community. What is it that has decided the -selection or unconscious choice—if we may call it so—of matrimonial -usage among the various races of mankind, since no special form is -necessarily connected with the degree of general civilization? The -conditions and exigencies of social life; and as those conditions and -exigencies change in the future, matrimonial usages will also change. As -a matter of fact, every possible method, speaking generally, has been -adopted. Sometimes a regulated promiscuity—for each man claimed his -rights—sometimes the mixed polyandric and polygamic household; -occasionally simple polyandry or polygamy; at other times monogamy; -marriage experimental also, as with the Redskins of Canada, who pair and -unite for a few days, then quit each other if the trial has not proved -satisfactory to both parties; or temporary marriage as in the case of -the Jews in Morocco, who unite for three or six months according to -agreement; or free marriages as those of the Hottentots and Abyssinians, -who marry, part, and remarry at will; or partial, as the marriages of -the Assanyeh Arabs, which only bind the parties for certain days of the -week. Every possible general method, I repeat, has been tried, and when -the practice hit upon has served human needs and also promoted the -solidarity and increase of the group, it has tended to persist. - -In tracing the evolution of the modern European form of monogamous -marriage, we become aware that at a very early period, and for a long -time subsequently, the wife was regarded as the absolute property of the -husband. The wife was a bought or a captured article, and like other -articles of property was at the entire disposal of the owner to use, -sell, lend or abuse as he thought fit. The Roman law makes no essential -difference between the marital law and the law of property, and modern -marriage laws in the different States of Europe and America treat the -wife as if she were in a very large degree a personal possession of her -husband. - -The history of modern marriage, in short, is the history of man’s -domination of woman and the measures he has taken to assume, assert and -establish his rights of possession. Amid changing outward conditions of -life, he has made good his claim to control her destiny in accordance -with his own varying desires. - -In appraising the value of our much-vaunted monogamy, we must clearly -understand that its legal basis is not, and never was, a strong personal -adhesion of sympathy and affection, but a compact respecting personal -property, involving in the cases where the “contracting parties are -possessed of wealth, both property in person and in things.” It is quite -legal, and indeed quite respectable, for marriages to be formed on a -pecuniary and social foundation, into which love does not enter. The -woman who sells herself in marriage to a man for the sake of money and -position is not regarded as a prostitute, but as a respectable, “honest” -woman who has made a “fortunate” marriage. - -To understand how thoroughly marriage is based upon property and not -upon love, it should suffice to contemplate the grounds on which legal -divorce is granted. Divorce is not granted, in this country at least, on -proofs of incompatibility of nature and absence of affection, but on -proof of adultery, in which co-respondents may be compelled to -pecuniarily compensate the husband on account of having made use of his -wife without his permission as her owner. Connivance by the husband -precludes the granting of a divorce. Man’s supremacy and woman’s -subjection become evident in the fact that no amount of simple adultery -in a husband can be made the ground of a divorce, nor is a wife able to -claim any pecuniary compensation from the paramours of a husband. -Matrimony, at this epoch, is for the most part a “commercial -transaction,” but in the words of Herbert Spencer, “already increased -facilities for obtaining divorce point to the probability that whereas -in those early stages during which permanent monogamy was being evolved, -the union by law (originally the act of purchase) was regarded as the -essential part of marriage and the union by affection non-essential; and -whereas at present the union by law is thought the more important and -the union by affection the less important, there will come a time when -the union by affection will be held of primary moment, and the union by -law as of secondary moment; and hence reprobation of marital relations -in which the union by affection has dissolved. That this conclusion will -seem unacceptable to most is probable, I may say certain.” (_Principles -of Sociology_, vol. i. p. 788.) - -Herbert Spencer strikes here at the very foundation of modern marriage. -Moreover, in making affection rule sexual relations, he opens up all the -possibilities of other forms of marriage than the monogamous, for -affection may not only be transitory, but unrestricted to one. In face -of the barbarous origin of marriage, there exists no reason why people -of liberal thought should make a dogged, pious stand at monogamy while -lightly dismissing promiscuity, polygamy, polyandry as disreputable -forms of sex-union. Mr. Spencer holds that “the monogamic form of the -sexual relation is manifestly the ultimate form,” but he gives no -reasons to prove his case that are not sufficiently disproved by the -form of marriage existing among the Nairs. Again, the fact of the -numerical equality of the sexes does not make monogamy the only suitable -form, although it supplies a reasonable objection to pure polygamy and -pure polyandry. Mr. Spencer says that “monogamy is a pre-requisite to a -high position of women.” Here he plainly overlooks the facts of the -respected and comparatively independent position of women among peoples -practising mixed polygamy and polyandry under fixed rules and -regulations. - -With the actual facts of life before us, we are forced to admit that -under the régime of man’s dominancy and woman’s subjection, monogamy has -been gross throughout all history, while with polyandry it has not been -so. Note, in this regard, one fact alone—jealousy, that mean, selfish -emotion which destroys the happiness of so many lives, is not in -evidence among the simple polyandric Nairs. The associated husbands live -on a good understanding with one another, there is a complete absence of -jealousy. Which of us can say, in view of the monogamy that surrounds -us: Tolstoi’s graphic picture, “the wild beast of jealousy began to roar -in its den,” applies only to a marriage in fiction? It is to monogamy -that we owe the typical domestic tyrant and many tyrannous attributes -that survive in modern masculine human nature. Monogamy, too, has always -been accompanied by other sexual relations in which both sexes are -degraded and one sex is socially and physically ruined. As Mr. W. E. H. -Lecky has pointed out, monogamy on one side of the shield implies -prostitution on the other. - -In its normal form, monogamy signifies the attachment of one man to one -woman, involving—first, permanent and exclusive sexual union; second, -conjoint domestic life; third, the generating and rearing of a family; -fourth, social intercourse in the class of society to which the parties -belong. Beyond these features of marriage, the economic and social -forces of the age bring about in the vast majority of marriages a -constant subjection of the wife to the husband, by reason of her being -dependent on him for her living, and a general freedom to the husband -but not to the wife to commit adultery. There is usually compelled also -lateness of marriage, which implies unhealthful, painful conditions of -life in the celibate youth of both sexes. I will ask here: Ought we to -look upon permanency and exclusiveness as essential elements in the form -of sex-union best suited to humanity at the present stage of its -evolving civilization? Permanency is necessarily essential to our ideal -of the final form of marriage, for the strongest, most valuable bond of -affection implies it, and loss of love from whatever cause is a real -calamity. But where that calamity has already befallen, for society to -enforce a mere outward permanency of the matrimonial bond is -irrational—the counterfeit union is productive only of private misery -and public disorder. And further, under our present wretched economic -conditions, the struggle for bread and absence of leisure and freedom in -the case of the workers, and, amid the upper classes, frequent financial -difficulties, false notions and customs of propriety and etiquette—all -these combine to make it rare indeed that a man or woman chances to meet -and unite with his or her counterpart or true life companion. - -Commercialism is no safe guide in the quest for a vital, permanent -sex-union, and until commercialism wholly disappears, the exigencies of -life demand freedom of divorce to rectify unavoidable errors of judgment -in matrimony, and make more possible the forming of ties that are truly -and naturally permanent. - -As human beings become more moral inwardly and create the outward -conditions in which they can live a truly moral existence, Mr. Emerson’s -principle that the great essentials in human conduct are to escape from -all false ties and to reveal ourselves as we are, will be more and more -acknowledged and acted upon. Great thinkers like Milton in the past and -Herbert Spencer in the present, condemn as contrary to religion and -reason a permanency that involves falsity or absence of love. “It is a -less breach of wedlock,” says Milton, “to part with wise and quiet -consent betimes, than still to foil and profane that mystery of joy and -union with a polluting sadness and perpetual distemper; for it is not -the outward continuing of marriage that keeps whole that covenant, but -whatsoever does most according to peace and love, whether in marriage or -in divorce, he it is that breaks marriage least, it being so often -written that ‘Love only is the fulfilment of every commandment.’” (John -Milton, _The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce_, chap. v.) Divorce made -attainable to all men and women, rich and poor, without any disgraceful -accompaniment, is a necessary condition of progress. And in effect, each -nation of Western Europe accepts and facilitates divorce concurrently -with its advance in civilization. - -Not long ago, in my hearing, a Roman Catholic barrister, whose practice -makes him familiar with all that occurs in the Divorce Court, delivered -himself to this effect: “My church anathematises divorce, and to my mind -she is right. But I am not the fool to think that the divorce law passed -in our Statute Books in the year 1858 will ever be annulled or departed -from. In the interests of morality, the pressing desideratum is that the -basis of divorce be made the same for man and woman. It is a crying -iniquity that whereas a husband by avoiding physical force, may legally -be as unfaithful to his marriage vows as he chooses, and may tyrannize -over and trample under his feet the feelings of his wife, one single -slip in an unguarded moment on her part, one act of adultery committed, -it may be in a fit of despair, entitles him by law to repudiate her -summarily as barbarian husbands dismissed their wives.” - -While permanency is eminently valuable in sexual relations, can we -venture to say the same as regards exclusiveness? This distinctive -quality of exclusiveness is not an extension of love, but a narrowing of -it down—a restraint upon personal feeling. When woman wins her freedom -and is no longer under any circumstances man’s dependent and slave, but -his friend and comrade in the battle of life, will she restrain the -physical expression of sex-love, yet fearlessly respond to all the -tender ties certain to unite her with the opposite sex? To give at -present a dogmatic reply is impossible. Personally, my instincts—so far -as I know them—accord with Herbert Spencer’s dictum: the ultimate form -of sexual relation will be monogamic; but I recognize my own -limitations. Since the women of my generation are children of -bond-slaves, hampered within and without by survivals from an epoch of -sex subjection wherein man’s dominancy superimposed upon woman a -chastity he repudiated for himself, the standpoint from which the freed -being of the future will decide her sex-morality is not in the grasp of -my apprehension. - -Nevertheless, the immediate path of progress is distinctly marked out. I -agree with the author who holds the opinion that: “Better indeed were a -Saturnalia of _free_ men and women than the spectacle which, as it is, -our great cities present at night.” (Edward Carpenter.) But set women -free “from the mere cash-nexus to a husband, from the money slavery of -the streets, from the nameless terrors of social opinion, and from the -threats of the choice of perpetual virginity or perpetual bondage,” and -we need not fear for sex-morality. “Sex in man is an organized passion, -an individual need or impetus; but in woman it may more properly be -termed a constructive instinct, with the larger signification that that -involves.... Nor does she often experience that divorce between the -sentiment of love and the physical passion which is so common with men. -Sex with her is a deep and sacred instinct, carrying with it a sense of -natural purity.” (_Woman_, Edward Carpenter, p. 9.) And from woman -herself let me quote a passage occurring in a women’s journal: “Love is -an emotion separate from sex-impulse, it may or may not exist in -co-relation to it. The testimony easily taken from the lives of many -women is to the effect that love enters not into the impulse which, -active and unrestrained on the part of those to whom they are yoked for -life, has created for them a life which can be called by no name save -slavery.” (_Shafts_, October, 1895.) Again, turning to the opposite sex, -Havelock Ellis states (in his study of _Man and Woman_, Contemporary -Science Series) that: “In women men find beings who have not wandered so -far as men from the typical life of earth’s creatures; women are for men -the human embodiments of the restful responsiveness of Nature.” - -I am convinced that however polygamous the male-sex—under a system of -industrial commercialism may appear—the great mass of our women are not -licentious and not polyandrous in tendency. While a Saturnalia of free -men and women would, as compared with present sexual conditions, be a -preferable evil, we need not in our forecast of the future dread such a -Saturnalia, or face its possibility. It is a libel on humanity to assume -that no self-restraints are inherent to withhold mankind from sexual -excesses when freed from control by Church and State. And although it -might be said that “the growing complexity of man’s nature would be -likely to lead him into more rather than fewer sex relations, on the -other hand it is obvious that as the depth and subtlety of any -attachment that really holds him increases, so does such attachment -become more permanent and durable and less likely to be realized in a -number of persons.... In man and woman we find a distinct tendency -towards the formation of this double unit of wedded life ... and while -we do not want to stamp such natural unions with any false -irrevocability or dogmatic exclusiveness, what we do want is a -recognition to-day of the tendency to their formation as a natural fact -independent of any artificial laws.” (_Marriage_, Edward Carpenter, p. -31.) - -The natural restraints or checks upon undue indulgence in -sex-intercourse extend from the physical or material plane to the -spiritual plane. These are—considerations of health; feelings of -unselfishness and social duty; and a spiritual, i.e. an ideal, -conception of humanity and of all the manifold relations of life. - -Unselfishness is pre-eminently the natural check and regulator of sex -relations, and not until love is emancipated from selfishness will it -reach an ideal form. If we love unselfishly we desire the happiness and -freedom of the being loved even to the extent of self-abnegation; -tyranny and jealousy become impossible. All natural checks will -necessarily strengthen and grow as humanity rises higher in the scale of -being; moreover, education is bound—under racial progress—to become to -each succeeding generation a much more adequate guide than hitherto. -Even in the present day, it would not be difficult to get youths and -girls at the age of romance to understand that “though they may have to -contend with some superfluity of passion in early years, the most -permanent and deeply-rooted desire within them will, in all probability, -lead them at last to find their complete happiness and self-fulfilment -only in a close union with a life-mate”; to understand also that -“towards this end they must be prepared to use self-control, to prevent -the aimless straying of their passions, and patience and tenderness -towards the realization of the union when its time comes.” (Edward -Carpenter.) This teaching would bring to the young a far truer -conception of the sacredness of marriage than our marriage laws and -customs give. - -It must never be forgotten, however, that this question of marriage and -every other social question must be viewed in relation to kindred -topics. A sectional treatment of society will surely mislead if we fail -to recall the changes going forward in every department of life, and the -close connexion that exists between the forces of social and individual -evolution. Scientific meliorism implies a reconstruction of domestic -life; and, within the new environment, the instructing of youth and its -guidance in sex-conduct will become comparatively easy. Nor is it only -by the training and guidance of youth that marriage will be favourably -affected in a new domestic system. The tendency to tyranny within the -home—an abhorrent feature of past monogamy—will have no opportunity to -appear; and two undesirable female types—the idle fine lady and the -household drudge—will become as extinct as the dodo. - -Outside the precincts of home, large social and industrial changes will -promote the disappearance of the prostitute, and finally there will -emerge the truly emancipated woman, fearless and enlightened—a capable -guide to man in the task of consciously subordinating passions that are -selfish and transitory to those deeper attachments and higher emotions -that give birth to spiritual love. “Is marriage a failure?” has been -boldly asked and widely discussed in comparatively recent years; and -that the audible answer—sadly re-echoed in thousands of hearts—was in -the affirmative, shows a wholesome awakening to facts—an awakening that -inevitably precedes all real reforms in an epoch of conscious evolution. - -So permeated with selfishness is the mental atmosphere surrounding all -questions of sex that the rule of life I here indicate will be utterly -distasteful to those who accept the régime of custom. Yet as regards -morality or an ethical code, there are two, and two only, logical -attitudes of mind. Either we must think of the stamping out of all -sexual feeling on the ground of its purely animal nature, and limiting -physical union to the utmost that is compatible with perpetuation of -species; or we must think of a gradual elevating of sexual instinct and -action to a dignified position in human life with due consideration for -the desires and needs of every one after puberty is reached. The first -is practically impossible to the vast majority of the race at its -present stage of development. They would simply refuse submission to the -intolerable restraints necessitated. In effect, the ascetic answer to -problems of sex is no actual solution, but a shelving of the fundamental -question, with a tacit acceptance of the prodigious evils around us in -respect both of sex-union and the advent of children. The only rational -course is that of elevating and regulating these relations in view of -human happiness. This implies a steady repression of anti-social -emotions and persistent cultivation of unselfishness. Our marital habits -of selfish appropriation and jealous control are in direct opposition to -the moral elevation of sexual instinct. Selfishness degrades where it -penetrates, and the problem is to rescue our sexual forces from -selfishness, and utilize these forces, i.e. make them subserve the -interests of social virtue. Hitherto, they have been ignored and -neglected—a result of false thinking and ascetic teaching, while in -actual life they have run riot, creating incalculable evils. - -The British race publicly professes monogamy and preaches to the young a -Puritan doctrine. Privately the drama enacted would disgrace a -civilization of the Middle Ages. In the lower classes wife-beating and -murder, in the upper classes the hideous revelations of the Divorce -Court, witness to the impurity and the misery of our boasted monogamy. -We tolerate licence, we condemn and conceal vicious propensities; we -harbour a social evil of gigantic magnitude, we permit hypocrisy to -prevail, we instigate the young to form self-interested mercantile -marriages. We are corrupt in our social life and mentally debased, for -we refuse to think out a rational code of sex morals, and without that -we shall never attain to a lofty conception, a true ideal of what life -ought to be. Our modern monogamy in its inwardness is not falsely -pictured in this indictment: “The commercialism which buys and sells all -human things; the narrow physical passion of jealousy; the petty sense -of private property in another person; social opinions and legal -enactments, have all converged to choke and suffocate wedded love in -egoism, lust and meanness.” (Edward Carpenter’s _Marriage_, p. 38.) - -In view of general happiness and virtue, we must seek the abrogation of -all laws based on or involving sex-inequality. And, further, that -marriage may become transformed into a sacred, sympathetic and permanent -bond—a deeper and truer relation of life—we must seek facilities for -divorce or the abrogation of the specific law that binds beings together -for life in ill-assorted or artificial unions. - - - - - CHAPTER V - PARENTAGE - - The simple fact that the birth of a human being, the image of God, as - religious people say, is in so many cases regarded as of very much - less importance than that of a domestic animal, proves the degraded - condition in which we live.—AUGUST BEBEL. - - -The reproduction of species yields to no other special function of life -in respect of importance and the wide scope of its vital issues. -Notwithstanding that vast numbers of illegitimate children are born in -every civilized country where monogamy reigns, this function of -reproduction is popularly regarded as allied with marriage in the order -of a natural and necessary consequence—a result irrespective of human -will. Now scientific meliorism makes a clear distinction between -marriage and parentage on the ground that, while the former -comparatively is of insignificant importance to the interests of -humanity in general, parentage is of vital moment to these interests; -moreover, between the two there exists no integral or essential -relation. On the one hand, progeny spring from unions not legalized by -marriage; on the other, many married people, swayed by motives chiefly -egoistic, but sometimes altruistic, are consciously exercising a -voluntary restraint over propagation. - -The late Matthew Arnold tells us that when gazing on one occasion in -company with a benevolent man upon a multitude of slum children eaten up -with disease, half-sized, half-fed, half-clothed, neglected by their -parents, without health, without home, without hope, the good man said: -“The one thing really needful is to teach these little ones to succour -one another, if only with a cup of cold water.” Mr. Arnold promptly -rejected that theory. “So long as the multitude of these poor children -is perpetually swelling,” said he, “they must be charged with misery to -themselves and us, whether they help one another with a cup of cold -water or no, and the knowledge how to prevent them accumulating is what -we want.” That knowledge is no longer inaccessible to man. There are -known rational methods by which to keep the populating tendency within -due limits, and at the same time to promote individual prudence, -foresight and self-dependence. - -Neo-Malthusianism, with its power of subjugating the law of population -and deferring parentage, is a new key to the social position, and -neo-Malthusian practice has already taken root in British society. The -discovery is of vast significance, so great are its latent possibilities -of promoting universal happiness. But as long as reproduction of human -physical life is left to haphazard, and the rule of private, personal -interests alone, without any honourable recognition, intelligent -guidance, or moral and economic support, the immediate effect on -national life is, and will continue to be, the very reverse of -beneficial. - -Matthew Arnold’s exhortation in respect of the slum children was: “We -must let conscience play freely and simply upon the facts of the case; -we must listen to what it tells us of the intelligible law of things as -concerns these children, and what it tells us is that a man’s children -are not really sent any more than the pictures upon his walls or the -horses in his stable are sent, and that to bring people into the world -when one cannot afford to keep them and oneself decently, or to bring -more of them into the world than one can afford to keep thus, is by no -means an accomplishment of the Divine Will or a fulfilment of nature’s -simplest laws, but is contrary to reason and the will of God.” (_Culture -and Anarchy_, p. 246.) - -This remonstrance addressed to the rich (these alone have pictures on -their walls and horses in their stables) may have had some effect, for -certain it is that in the upper classes artificial checks to conception -are now widely used, while slum children show no tendency to -proportionately diminish in number. Individuals whose standard of living -is high, and whose pecuniary means are small, or who are thoughtful, -intelligent, prudent, either refrain from marriage, or, marrying, check -propagation. The natural result is that children of the comparatively -superior types are becoming numerically weaker than children of the -thoughtless, reckless members of society who exercise their reproductive -powers to the utmost. It is supremely important that we should recognize -how parentage bears upon human life and happiness in far wider relations -than either sexual union alone or marriage alone. - -Maintenance of species has hitherto been accomplished at an enormous -sacrifice of individual life. The requirement that there shall arise a -full number of adults in successive generations is fulfilled by means -which subordinate the existing and next succeeding members of the -species in various degrees. (See Herbert Spencer’s _Principles of -Sociology_, vol. i. p. 621.) - -Among low forms—inferior to the human organism—the germs of new -individuals are produced in immense numbers, the larger part of the -parental substance being sometimes transformed into these germs. Birth -here may be immediately followed by the death of the parent organism, -and an immense mortality of the young may take place—consequent on -defenceless exposure, insufficient food and other untoward conditions. -“Of a million minute ova left uncared for, the majority are destroyed -before they are hatched, so that very few have considerable amounts of -individual life.” (Ibid. p. 622.) - -Throughout the course of evolution the natural order in moving from -higher to higher types is a gradual decrease of this condition, viz. the -sacrifice of individual life to the life of the species, and at the same -time an increase of compensating pleasures allied with the reproductive -function. When illustrating this natural order, Herbert Spencer points -to the methods among fishes and amphibians contrasted with those among -birds and mammals. The spawn of the former when safely deposited is -generally left to its fate.[3] There is physical cost to adults with -apparently no accompanying gratifications. Birds and mammals, however, -carefully rear and tend their offspring. “The activities of parenthood -are sources of agreeable emotions, just as are the activities which -achieve self-sustentation.” - -Footnote 3: - - There are exceptions to the rule, as in the case of the male - stickleback. - -Passing from the less intelligent vertebrates which produce many young -at short intervals and abandon them at an early age, to the more -intelligent higher vertebrates which produce few young at longer -intervals and aid them for longer periods, this principle clearly -emerges—“While the rate of juvenile mortality is diminished, there -results both a lessened physical cost of maintaining the species and an -augmented satisfaction of the affections.” (_Principles of Sociology_, -vol. i. p. 628.) - -There is no reversal of this genetic order of nature in the epoch of -conscious evolution. The processes are different, because man possesses -developed intellect, aided by scientific knowledge and invention as a -new and skilled ally in the struggle to maintain his species at less and -less cost of individual life and happiness; but the general forward -movement takes precisely the same course. With the highest evolved type -of man this sacrifice of individual life to the species is reduced to a -minimum, while the interests of species are conserved in a painless, a -wholly superior manner. And, further, the entire range of domestic -feelings—parental, filial, fraternal and intimately social, become -extended and increasingly capable of bestowing enduring pleasure. The -ultimate goal is easy maintenance of species, without—to any -unpleasurable extent—subordinating single members of species to that -end. - -Love of offspring, as already explained, has no reproductive instinct at -its base. It is a feeling—superimposed on organic nature—dependent on -family life or arrangements that involve parental care and more or less -of adult activity directed to the well-being of the young. This -sentiment of love of offspring or philoprogenitiveness, is well -established in the British race; but with rampant poverty in our midst, -can we wonder that in hundreds of thousands of individual cases the -paternal relation—so capable of filling the heart with tender emotions -and joy—creates an actual disgust, or a feeling of despair, malignancy, -even injustice, as is shown in the touching little satire, _Ginx’s -Baby_. Ginx frankly gave his wife notice that, as his utmost efforts -could scarcely maintain their existing family, if she ventured to -present him with any more, either single or twins ... “he would most -assuredly drown him.” Later, when the arrival of number thirteen is -imminent—the wife being unable longer to hide the impending event—Ginx -fixed his determination by much thought and a little extra drinking. He -argued thus: “He wouldn’t go on the parish. He couldn’t keep another -youngster to save his life. He had never taken charity and never would. -There was nothink to do with it but drown it.” - -Nor is even the maternal relation proof against bitterness in untoward -conditions, although the feelings will be differently expressed, and may -possibly assume a pious garb. “I’ve ’ad my fifteen or my twenty on ’em, -but, thank ’eaven, the churchyard ’as stood my friend.” These or similar -words have often been heard in an English factory town. The women -speaking thus were not otherwise callous or incapable of mother-love. -They were gentle, patient, toiling drudges, who had had the -philoprogenitiveness of average human nature and the tender joys of -maternity perverted into secret care and open hypocritical cant by the -physical strain of a too-frequent child-bearing, combined with the -miseries of ceaseless labour, pinched means, and comfortless, crowded -homes. - -The frequent advent of children who are unwelcome to their own parents -in a society no longer ignorant of the scientific means by which its -weakest members may avoid parentage, without any destruction of life or -any injury to sexual function, is marvellously irrational, and it -indicates divergence from the well-marked path of evolutional progress. - -Opposition to neo-Malthusian practice arises from primitive conceptions -of life (conceptions antecedent to evolutional theory), while all the -various undefined scruples painfully experienced by individuals are -survivals of the sentiment allied with these false conceptions. -Prejudice dies slowly, as ignorance is dispelled by the growing light of -new knowledge. - -I have shown that asceticism is an immoral principle, the action of -which tends to fill individual life with gloom and depression, and to -thwart or counteract general happiness. I have also shown the absolute -necessity for retarding the multiplication of human beings to suit the -limits of available subsistence. And now, after pointing out that -philoprogenitiveness—which is the groundwork of domestic and social -virtue, and ought to be the mainspring of reproduction of species—is -continually liable to be strained, depressed or perverted into -anti-social bitterness in parental bosoms among the lower classes, I -must ask the question: How otherwise than by the easiest method known to -science could the difficulties of the position be met and overcome? - -Messrs. Patrick Geddes and J. A. Thomson, in their treatise on the -_Evolution of Sex_, urge the necessity of what they call “an ethical -rather than a mechanical prudence after marriage, of a temperance -recognized to be as binding on husband and wife as chastity on the -unmarried.” (_The Evolution of Sex_, p. 297.) But what do these -gentlemen mean by the temperance here recommended? It is surely well -known that the birth of a large family is perfectly consistent with a -sparing, most temperate exercise of the procreative function; and surely -also it would be folly on our part to look for parental conduct -controlled by ethical motive in the warrens of the poor of our large -cities, from whence springs an important section of the national life. -(_Social Control of the Birth Rate_, Pamphlet by G. A. Gaskell.) - -In the homes of the upper classes, adorned with all the amenities and -refinements of civilization, parental prudence results mainly from -egoistic motive. Practical reformers will hesitate to assume that -those—the less favoured social units—are likely to surpass these in -moral elevation, and demean themselves generally in a superior manner! -But further, a parental prudence, dispensing with mechanical methods of -checking propagation, may even prove the converse of ethical conduct. -Advanced sexual morality requires a free and healthful exercise of -sexual function. That such freedom is not possible under present social -conditions is irrelevant to the question at issue; the point is that -conduct unnecessarily traversing this advanced sexual morality is not in -accordance with rationalized social ethics; it has no scientific basis. - -Parental morals must conform to the principle indicated by Herbert -Spencer—reduce to a minimum the sacrifice of individual life and -happiness to the life of the species; augment to the maximum the joys of -affection involved in parental relations. This is possible to a race -among which are beings of low intelligence and unrestrained passion only -by bringing into play the laws of heredity through rational breeding. -But rational breeding depends on an appeal to ordinary egoistic motive -and practical resort to the painless mechanical means of checking -conception. - -There is no general unwillingness to limit their families among the -poor; what is lacking consists simply in power of control over the -physical conditions of fertility. To see children half-starved and wives -sickly and miserable is no more pleasant to parents of the Ginx order -than to those of us who view it from a safe distance; and there is ample -intelligence to perceive the connexion between, on the one hand, -discomfort and poverty attendant on a family of ten or twelve, on the -other, comparative comfort allied with a family of only three or four. - -A code of ethics covering the interests of the entire nation commands -strenuous effort on the part of all thoughtful, intelligent people to -make the artificial checks known to the thoughtless and unintelligent. -It is not by proudly rejecting scientific invention in this matter that -we shall attain to development of higher and higher types of man, but by -skilfully using it as a powerful ally in our struggle to maintain and -regenerate species at less and less cost to individual happiness. - -Apart altogether from man’s partial practice of neo-Malthusian art, -under egoistic motives, civilization has created an interference with -the original order of race preservation under generous or altruistic -motive. Social feeling slowly developing revolts—in detail—from the -cruel method of the law of natural selection. It spontaneously -supersedes that law by one of sympathetic selection. But whereas the -former law issued in survival of the fittest, the latter issues day by -day in indiscriminate survival, and consequent race deterioration. A -controlled rate of increase is not therefore the only position to which -reason and science must guide us; we have further to escape from the -disastrous consequences of the above law and pass to conditions of life -evolved under the benign influence of a rational and moral law—a law of -social selection, resulting in appropriate birth, or the birth of the -socially fit. - -There are thousands of our present day population with whom family life -is no whit superior to that of birds, whose pairing is immediately -followed by rapid breeding and a complete scattering of the brood when -the young are barely fledged. A wise philanthropy in line with the march -of progressive evolution may lift these thousands to the level of the -higher vertebrates, “which produce few young at longer intervals and -give them aid for longer periods.” The recalcitrant minority refusing to -practice parental prudence must be treated by society as abnormal -individuals, incapable of rising to the standard of average civilized -human nature, and these must be subjected to social restraint. - - - - - _PART III_ - ABNORMAL HUMANITY - - Men may rise on stepping-stones - Of their dead selves to higher things. - —From _In Memoriam_. - - - - - THE ELIMINATION OF CRIME - - Many a man thinks that it is his goodness which keeps him from crime, - when it is only his full stomach. On half allowance, he would be as - ugly and knavish as anybody. Don’t mistake potatoes for - principles.—CARLYLE. - - -A normal child of five years once asked the meaning of this -expression—“hanging a murderer,” and after explanation said eagerly, -“But will hanging the man make that other man alive again?” On receiving -a negative reply, the remonstrance burst forth, “Then why kill him, -since when he is dead we can never make him good again?” - -This is a true picture of the thinking and feeling about crime which is -natural to the best types of our present-day humanity. These demand that -our punishments shall either reform the criminal or protect society -effectively from his malfeasance. As a matter of fact, our criminal code -and whole machinery and procedure relative to crime accomplish neither, -and this is freely admitted by men whose position enables them to judge -accurately and entitles them to express an opinion. - -Mr. Justice Matthew has said at the Birmingham Assizes that the present -state of the criminal law is a hundred years behind the times. Sir -Edmund Du Cane, Chairman of the Directors of Convict Prisons, says of -the solitary system practised in our penal prisons: “It is an artificial -state of existence, absolutely opposed to that which nature points out -as the condition of mental, moral and physical health.... The minds of -the prisoners become enfeebled by long-continued isolation.” In the -Official Report of the Departmental Committee on Prisons, 1895, these -words occur: “The prisoners have been treated too much as a hopeless or -worthless part of the community. The moral condition in which a large -number of prisoners leave the prison, and the serious number of -recommittals, have led us to think there is ample cause for a searching -inquiry into the main features of prison life.” The late Judge -Fitz-Stephen published his _History of the Criminal Law_ in 1883, and -pointed there to “notorious evils of which it is difficult,” said he, -“to find a satisfactory remedy.” Nevertheless, he put down his finger on -the crucial spot when he wrote “the law proceeds upon the principle that -it is morally right to hate criminals. It confirms and justifies that -sentiment by inflicting upon criminals punishment which expresses it.” - -But it is not right to hate criminals. It is morally wrong, i.e. it is -contrary to these laws of nature, by which alone an elevated and happy -social life may be attained. The emotion of hatred creates vibrations -producing evil on the moral plane, as certainly as discordant sounds, -acting on sensitive ears, produce discomfort; and, if persisted in, -produce organic disorganization on the physical plane. Hence, all -punishment or legal procedure directed against crime, having hatred at -its foundation, or historic base, must fail. On the negative side, -hatred has proved ineffectual in protecting society from crime. On the -positive side, it increases the anti-social feelings, whose natural -outcome is crime, and frustrates, or annuls, the human forces of love, -which already widely existent, and swaying humanity’s best types, are -the true evolutional factors by which to annihilate crime. - -Mr. Justice Matthew was simply asserting a fact of social science when -he stated that the criminal law is out of date. It consists with a -primitive stage of social life; but it is totally inconsistent with even -the semi-civilization of to-day. The fundamental discord between our -action and feeling relative to crime declares itself in the uncertainty -of a criminal’s fate and the steady survival of his type. But, my -reader, while accepting Justice Matthew’s premise, may doubt the -conclusion at which Judge Fitz-Stephen arrived—that vindictiveness or -hate lies at the root of our criminal code, and that our punishments -express it. Moreover, he may condemn by anticipation a supposed tendency -on my part to censure all punishments, and rely solely on a -_laissez-faire_ system of dealing with crime. Scientific meliorism, -however, does not imply anarchy or the absence of governing law. Its -methods repudiate the _laissez-faire_ principle in every department of -life, for this reason: Our developed faculties and accumulated knowledge -make untenable the negative or inert position. We are impelled in an -epoch of conscious evolution to take positive action favourable to -progress. - -My contention is this: love of all men, not hatred of any man or class -of men ought to be the basis of our criminal code. Modern science, -experience and skill are competent to redeem the criminal class, -speaking generally, and in exceptional cases, where redemption is -impossible, can render the criminal innocuous to society, while giving -him throughout life such innocent happiness as a being organically -defective may enjoy. - -This thesis embraces a very wide range of action. It means the -systematic rational treatment of evil-doers, from the refractory infant -and juvenile pickpocket to the burglar, the fraudulent bankrupt, the -felon, the traitor, the murderer, and if any exist, the born criminal. -It signifies, in short, a complete science complementary to that of true -education. For whereas the latter comprises all manner of attractive -stimuli to noble living, this is the science of necessary social -restraints to be applied in nursery, school and prison with the -universal gentleness which springs from universal love. The purpose to -be aimed at is, first, improving character by restraining obnoxious -tendencies; second, reforming character already become anti-social; -third, protecting society from all corrupt infusion that might proceed -from morally diseased character. - -A leading principle of the criminal law of Great Britain is that -punishment be adjusted in proportion to the supposed magnitude of each -individual offence. If we study this principle, we must perceive the -truth of Judge Fitz-Stephen’s allegation, for what connexion has it with -the reformation of the criminal? A judge or a jury makes no attempt to -compute the amount of prison restraint and discipline necessary to -reformation, nor are they possessed of facts for forming a judgment. -Their whole attention has been focussed on the crime, not on the -character of the criminal, or the antecedent and future conditions -affecting the character. Neither does the judicial sentence connect -itself proportionately with the mischief done to society. A fraudulent -banker or commercial speculator, whose downfall involves the ruin of -thousands, is not dealt with, as compared with a petty thief, on a scale -of severity expressive of the magnitude of suffering entailed. And the -petty thief, who steals the rich man’s goods, as compared with the -criminal who beats and abuses his wife, is adjudged a severer penalty—a -measure of punishment indicating the superior value of goods over wives, -which is a sentiment appropriate only to barbarous times. - -These anomalies, however, are explainable. Our laws have descended to us -from a barbarous age, when might was right, irrespective of justice; and -from a race whose punishments sprang from revenge, and were roughly -proportioned to the feeling of revenge. They are little else than -reactionary forces, of which some are always present in an inchoate -society. Their inapplicability to the task of reforming criminals is -easily proved. - -In Scotland in a single year not fewer than “six hundred and ninety -persons were committed to prison who had been in confinement at least -ten times before. Of these, three hundred and ninety-three had been in -prison at least twenty times before, and twenty-three at least fifty -times!” (_Hill on Crime_, p. 28.) These figures speak for themselves. -Our whole system is glaringly unscientific. We do not remove the -conditions that act as causes of crime. We punish, and sometimes -severely, yet we let loose again offenders not one whit more prepared -than before to withstand the temptations of freedom. We calmly support -and approve an enormous expenditure of public funds upon criminals and -crime; we carefully select good men to be prison managers, officers and -chaplains; we secure cleanliness and sanitation within the prisons, and -so forth; but these efforts are utterly futile because the system is -wrong—the criminal law of Great Britain is based upon a false, an -irrational principle. - -The causes of crime within our province to deal with are of a two-fold -nature—objective and subjective. Poverty, i.e. hunger and want, a slum -environment, rough handling in infancy and childhood, a mischievous -training and the absence of all conditions favourable to gentle, -virtuous life—these are some of the objective causes creating crime -which society is bound to remove. Among causes deciding the innate -character of every newly-born babe, the forces of heredity stand out -conspicuously. I have demonstrated that aggregate humanity, in a -scientific age, has the means of controlling these forces and directing -them to the production of physical, mental and moral health in the -individual, and consequently in the community. The born criminal type -may become gradually improved by careful and wise treatment under -life-long restraints. Meanwhile, to seek reformation of this type, by -prison discipline alone, and treat it by methods adapted to corrigible -culprits, is a folly dishonouring to the developed reason of man. We -have abundant evidence that the type exists. Mr. Frederick Hill, late -Inspector of Prisons, says: “Nothing has been more clearly shown in the -course of my inquiries than that crime is hereditary to a considerable -extent ... it proceeds from father to son in a long line of succession.” -(_Hill on Crime_, p. 55.) Mr. J. B. Thomson, Resident Surgeon of the -Perth Prison, states of the facts of prison life: “They press on my mind -the conviction that crime in general is a moral disease of a chronic and -congenital nature, intractable when transmitted from generation to -generation.” And Mr. George Combe, speaking of prisons in the United -States of America, wrote: “I have put the question to many keepers of -prisons whether they believed in the possibility of reforming all -offenders. From those whose minds were humane and penetrating, I have -received the answer—they did not, for experience had convinced them that -some criminals are incorrigible by any human means hitherto discovered. -These incorrigibles,” says George Combe—and this is the point to -observe, “were always found to have defective organizations; ... they -are morally idiotic; and justice, as well as humanity, dictates our -treating them as patients. They labour under great natural defects; ... -to punish them for actions proceeding from these natural defects is no -more just or beneficial to society than it would be to punish men for -having crooked spines or club feet.” (George Combe’s _Moral Philosophy_, -p. 306.) And I could refer to many more authorities on the subject were -it necessary. - -Accepting the theory that our born-criminals are victims of moral -disease, the question arises—how should we treat them? Fifty years ago -we sorely maltreated our victims to mental disease. We bound them hand -and foot, we punished them sternly for their congenital defects, we -shunned and hated them, and because they were martyrs to a pitiful -disease we made them also the victims of unnecessary and cruel -sufferings. Few men to-day could glance without a shudder at the record -of our treatment of lunatics. We consign the history gladly to oblivion, -and point to changes betokening the better feeling of to-day. “No one -thinks of sending a madman to a lunatic asylum for a certain number of -days, weeks or months. We carefully ascertain that he is unfit to be at -large, and that those in whose hands we are about to place him act under -due inspection and have the knowledge and skill which afford the best -hope for his cure; that they will be kind to him, and inflict no more -pain than is necessary for his secure custody ... we leave it to them to -determine if, or when, he can be safely liberated.” (_Hill on Crime_, p. -151.) - -These are the lines on which also should run our treatment of moral -disease. If a man is unfit morally to be at large, we must narrow the -conditions of his life, but make it as enjoyable within the coercive -restraints as is compatible with improvement. And on no account must we -restore his liberty until those who professionally and officially watch -his daily conduct are convinced that he will not again be likely to -abuse that liberty. - -But apart altogether from individual delinquents, the subjective racial -tendency to crime demands special treatment, and in this regard I -maintain that the enlightened action of an advanced society will be -analogous to the ignorant action of an earnest church in the Middle Ages -with precisely opposite results. “The long period of the Dark Ages, -under which Europe lay, was due, I believe, in a very considerable -degree,” says Francis Galton, “to the celibacy enjoined by religious -orders on their votaries. Whenever a man or woman was possessed of a -gentle nature that fitted him or her to deeds of charity, to meditation, -to literature or to art, the social condition of the time was such that -they had no refuge elsewhere than in the bosom of the church. But the -church preached and exacted celibacy. The consequence was that these -gentle natures had no continuance, and by a policy so singularly unwise -and suicidal that I am hardly able to speak of it without impatience, -the church brutalized the breed of our forefathers. She acted as if she -aimed at selecting the rudest portion of the community to be alone the -parents of future generations. She practised the arts which breeders -would use who aimed at creating ferocious, currish and stupid natures. -No wonder that club law prevailed for centuries over Europe; the wonder -is, that enough good remained in the veins of Europeans to enable their -race to rise to its present very moderate level of natural morality.” -(_Hereditary Genius_, F. Galton, p. 356.) - -A humane society, guided by rational forces in the epoch of conscious -evolution, will practise the policy of the church of the Middle Ages on -a different class of subjects. It will gather poor criminals into its -bosom, and secure for them a safe and happy refuge while exacting -celibacy. The racial blood shall not be poisoned by moral disease. The -guardians of the present-day social life dare not be careless of future -social life and the happiness of generations unborn; therefore the -criminal breed must be forcibly restrained from perpetuating its kind. -Now mark the result. Not gentle natures—as in the case of the church—but -the innately vicious natures will have no continuance. The criminal type -slowly but surely disappears. - -To promote the contentment and comfort of congenital criminals within -their asylum or prison home an alternative to celibacy might be offered, -viz. surgical treatment, to render the male incapable of reproduction. -(The treatment indicated is not the operation ordinarily performed upon -some domestic animals; this, applied to human beings, would be morally -and physically injurious. Particulars of the appropriate method were -published in the _British Medical Journal_ as early as May 2, 1874, at -p. 586.) Were this course voluntarily chosen, the sexes might -intermingle without danger to posterity; and since fuller social life -tends to make all human beings happier, these convicts would become more -manageable, and coercive restraints cease to be indispensable. - -But the criminal stock is not great when compared with the actual crimes -of to-day. Crime in a vast measure is simply produced by the outward -accidental conditions of life—an evil environment and a grossly -inadequate training. If we alter the environment of our masses—by -establishing a new industrial system that banishes poverty from the -land, by initiating a Malthusian and neo-Malthusian practice that puts -the physical life on a healthy basis, by creating a family life suitable -to man’s emotional nature, and supplying a true education that embraces -scientific restraints on all anti-social tendencies—then, but not till -then, will crime and the criminal type alike become things of the past. - -We are surrounded to-day in our reformatories and board schools, in our -homes and on our streets, by children of naïvely-disobedient or -rebellious tendency. These are the embryo criminals of a few years -hence. When a clever romanticist makes one his hero, and describes the -development of trickiness in the child, and how he uses it as a weapon -of defence against the “polissman” whom he defies, trips up and -otherwise evades (_Cleg Kelly_, by Crockett), we read the account -without compunction, nay, we relish the humour of the situation, and -half approve the issue! Yet this assuredly is no legitimate outcome of -childish bravery and sportiveness. Our levity arises from the underlying -conviction, or the universal feeling begotten of genetic evolution, that -the policeman’s jurisdiction here is flagrantly inappropriate. - -Infantile disobedience and full-fledged crime seem far apart, but they -are united by an inward deteriorating process, an outward chain of -trespasses more or less petty. The links are all there, connecting the -tender babe and fascinating street-arab with the thief and murderer. -Similarly, on the moral plane, flow the sequences of cause and effect -that bring retribution—that inalienable feature of the law of evolution. -The crime that society deplores is the natural penalty for society’s -neglect of children; and there is no escape from the penalty as long as -the cause continues. Nor can society plead ignorance here. Herbert -Spencer and Ruskin have spoken out plainly on this subject. “What we -need is cessation from all these antagonisms which keep alive the brutal -elements of human nature, and persistence in a peaceful life, giving -unchequered play to the sympathies.” (_Herbert Spencer on Arbitration._) -“It is,” says Ruskin, “the lightest way of killing to stop a man’s -breath. But if you bind up his thoughts by lack of true education, if -you blind his eyes, if you blunt his hopes, if you steal his joys, if -you stunt his body and blast his soul ... this you think no sin!” -Verily, there _is sin_, acknowledged by the noblest, wisest of men, and -brought home to us on the lips of babes—“Why kill the man, since when he -is dead we can never make him good again!” - -Society has to compass the task of making men good from the beginning; -and in exceptional cases, where the task is impossible, the victims are -simply society’s patients, to be impounded without hurt. We are as able -to protect our social life from moral as from mental lunatics. The -initial step, however (hardly yet taken), is to pass from the mental -attitude of a barbarous race, whose habits of defence are those of -arbitrary punishment, to that of a civilized nation bent on reforming -its criminals, and treating its morally diseased members with uniform -humanity and brotherly love. As yet the resources of man’s reason and -scientific knowledge and aptitude have never been called into play to -devise a system of consecutive restraints on the “brutal elements,” a -system to make men good from the beginning by “working out the beast.” - -The crux of the problem is how to imbue children painlessly with the -truth that social life has responsibilities and limitations, obedience -to which is indispensable. And I submit that this may be done in the -homes and nurseries of the future, under a scientifically adapted system -of training. Hard blows and even chiding tones of the human voice must -have no place in childhood’s environment, but authority may be exercised -through the use of a simple appliance for limiting infant freedom. When -baby trespasses against some natural law of health or social life, of -which he knows nothing, he is gently but promptly and firmly placed in a -baby-prison standing within reach, viz. a goodly-sized basket, high at -the sides, softly cushioned all round and weighted, so that it cannot be -overturned by the infant culprit, who, if refractory, may kick or scream -in safety there till the paroxysm passes, and he falls asleep. On waking -he recalls vaguely, when older, more clearly the occurrence, and he -becomes lightly possessed by a subtle sense of authority quite distinct -from individual kindness or unkindness. His human relations are unhurt -by the necessary training in infancy. He has been checked in wrong-doing -without any wrong association of ideas, and without an awakening of -anti-social feeling. - -I have seen an ignorant nurse teach a child to seek solace for pain in -an anti-social emotion! “Beat the naughty chair that has hurt poor -baby’s head,” was the evil counsel, and the child held out to the chair -struck his tiny revengeful blows, and was kissed and caressed in -consequence. This happened in a rich man’s nursery. Could one blame the -ignorant nurse? Her infancy was passed in a city slum, and in every such -locality children swarm who freely strike out both in self-protection -and brutal aggressiveness. From birth these little ones live more or -less in an atmosphere of savage assault. Tyranny and force are the -ruling conditions of their childhood, and the natural result—under the -unalterable law of cause and effect—is this: vindictive, barbaric -feeling is carried hither and thither throughout society at large, and -degrades every social class. - -When home-life in the middle classes has been reorganized, and nursery -training is the outcome of scientific thought, children there at least -will escape this taint. They will pass from nursery to schoolroom with -nerves that have never been unnecessarily jarred. They will be -physically stronger, and in temperament more serene. Reared without -harshness, they will know no craven fear; and since the native attitude -of childhood towards elders never seen angry or cross is that of -confiding love, teachers will have no difficulty in bringing into play -the tender emotions that are natural checks upon evil doing, and natural -incentives to effort in action that is right. If playfulness intrudes, -and the serious work of a class is hindered by some little urchin’s fun, -the master or mistress needs neither to scold nor to cane the offender, -for unspoken satisfaction and dissatisfaction are quickly perceived and -responded to by children unused to punishment or an elder’s frown. - -But even in the schoolroom an appeal to mechanism may sometimes prove -useful. An instrument called “a characterograph” was described by its -inventor to an Edinburgh audience half a century ago. This instrument -for registering had been in use in Lady Byron’s Agricultural School at -Ealing Grove, with moral effects markedly beneficial. There were many -comments in the press of that period. It supersedes all necessity for -prizes, place-taking, or any kind of reward or punishment, and renders -unnecessary the master’s expressing anger or irritation—“the worst -example a teacher can set to his pupils.” (Mr. E. T. Craig was inventor -of the characterograph.) - -If we bear in mind that the supreme object of training is _social -solidarity_, and that social solidarity rests fundamentally on tender -relations between the old, the young, and the middle-aged, we shall -recognize the wisdom of elders resigning at the earliest possible moment -all manifestations of personal authority. The average boy and girl, if -well trained, has at fifteen, or about that age, moral powers -sufficiently developed to control innate propensities. At that epoch to -the young themselves should be relegated the ruling of youthful conduct -in the interests of society. Not to the young singly, however, but in -their corporate capacity. The organizing of juvenile committees and -conduct clubs will ensue. I need not, however, treat of these here. They -belong to the subject of general education, and I am merely touching on -training in its relations to specific crime. - -The point in social science to emphasize is this: At every stage of the -nation’s history its moral health or disease is the actual resultant of -previous conditions of its child-life throughout the length and breadth -of the land. At the present moment the public mind is astray on this -subject. There is no understanding of the restraints necessary on -infantile wrong-doing, the wholesome because painless checks to apply to -juvenile delinquents. Science must guide us to the right path of action, -society must enlist parental authority, or, if need be, coerce the child -to take the indicated course. By the absence of wholesome checks and the -presence of brutal conditions in childhood we suffer a vast amount of -preventible crime. We evolve the criminal by sins of omission outside -the prison; we brutalize him further inside the prison by undue, -ill-adapted restraints. - -Very significant was the experience of Mr. Obermair, of the State Prison -in Munich. When appointed governor there, he found from six to seven -hundred prisoners in the worst state of insubordination, and whose -excesses he was told defied the harshest, most stringent discipline. The -prisoners were chained together. The guard consisted of about 100 -soldiers, who did duty not only at the gates and round the walls, but in -the passages, and even in the workshops and dormitories; and, strangest -of all, from twenty to thirty large dogs of the bloodhound breed were -let loose at night in the passages and courts to keep watch and ward. -The place was a perfect pandemonium, comprising the worst passions, the -most slavish vices, and the most heartless tyranny within the limits of -a few acres. - -Mr. Obermair quickly dispensed with dogs, and nearly all the guards. He -gradually relaxed the harsh system, and treated the prisoners with a -consideration that gained their confidence. In the year 1852 Mr. Baillie -Cochrane visited the prison, and his account is as follows: “The gates -were wide open, without any sentinel at the door, and a guard of only -twenty men idling away their time in a room off the entrance hall.... -None of the doors were provided with bolts and bars; the only security -was an ordinary lock, and as in most of the rooms the key was not -turned, there was no obstacle to the men walking into the passage.... -Over each workshop some of the prisoners with the best characters were -appointed overseers, and Mr. Obermair assured me that when a prisoner -transgressed a regulation, his companions told him ‘_es ist verboten_,’ -and it rarely happened that he did not yield to the will of his -fellow-prisoners. Within the prison walls every description of work is -carried on ... each prisoner by occupation and industry maintains -himself. The surplus of his earnings is given him on release, which -avoids his being parted with in a state of destitution.” (This account -is taken from Herbert Spencer’s _Essay on Prison Ethics_.) It is then -clearly proved by actual experience that rough handling and brutal -words—bolts and bars and bloodhounds—are alike unnecessary in the case -of first offenders and in the case of the “desperate gang.” - -But, turning once more from the criminal to the ultimate causes of -crime, these are—destitution, or more or less grinding poverty, -inherited disease, ignorance and all the degraded nurture that crushes -the humanities and develops the brutalities of man. A scientific -treatment of crime will eradicate these various causes of crime. No -summary methods are applicable. There is no short cut to the end in -view; but by patient perseverance in the scientific meliorism indicated -in my chapters on Industrial Life, Sex Relations and Parentage, and to -be further explained in those on Education and Home Life, the forces -brought into play will prove effective in social redemption. They are -essentially radical and all-embracing. Within reformatories and prisons -there may be partially supplied the training for forming and reforming -character that is nowhere present in the homes and schools of the lower -classes to-day. Those criminals who are not structurally defective may -recover moral health, and become virtuous or at least harmless social -units. In all such cases liberty should be restored; but the State can -never be justified in discharging its rescued criminals without -resources and without protection. They must be supplied with work, i.e. -some means of self-support, and guarded from dangers besetting the -critical period of liberation. The educating of ignorant criminals, the -reforming of corrigible criminals, the restraining from further crime of -incurable criminals—these are duties of the State. - -The time, however distant, will finally arrive when science, applied for -generations to the task of skilfully removing all the causes of crime, -will accomplish that glorious aim. By attention to the laws of heredity, -by checking the too rapid increase of population, by the moral training -of every member of the community, and by well-ordered, happy, domestic, -industrial and social life, the criminal nature will die out, and crime -itself be simply historical—a thing to study with interest, an -extirpated social disease. - - - - - _PART IV_ - EVOLUTION OF THE EMOTIONS - - -We must never forget that human aspirations, human ideals, are as much a -part of the phenomena which makes up this causally-connected Universe as -the instincts and appetites that are common to man and the other -animals.—DAVID G. RITCHIE. - - - - - CHAPTER I - THE SENTIMENTS OF INDIVIDUAL RIGHTS AND SOCIAL JUSTICE - - The dawning century will have to undertake a new education of mankind - if we are not to relapse.... New inventions are less needed than new - ethics.—Dr. MAX NORDAU. - - -Herbert Spencer tells us that: “Free institutions can only be properly -worked by men, each of whom is jealous of his own rights and -sympathetically jealous of the rights of others—who will neither himself -aggress on his neighbour in small things or great, nor tolerate -aggression on them by others.” - -The state of mind or sentiment to which Mr. Spencer here points is -complex. It comprises an egoism that is not anti-social, and an altruism -that is broadly social. The genesis of this sentiment is intellectual, -implying a recognition in some sort of the laws of nature, by virtue of -which individual rights do not conflict with nature’s harmonies or its -fundamental organic unity. It is possible, therefore, only to a race -comparatively advanced, i.e. intellectually endowed; but the children -and children’s children of that race may possess the sentiment of -individual rights as an instinct with no apprehension whatever of its -source or its justification. Its alliance with, and perfect conformity -to, natural law are certainly not understood, and confusion is increased -in the public mind by the unscientific teaching of the daily press. -Here, for instance, is a paragraph from a middle-class journal. “Law is -command, control. Nature is instinctive force, and can neither give nor -receive laws. There are no laws of nature, and there are no rights of -man. We are using meaningless phrases when we speak of either. Man has -no natural rights any more than the wolf and the bear. All rights are -conventional.” - -Now, before man had made a direct study of nature, and, marking the -invariability of sequence in the precision of its phenomena, had -attached to that invariability the term “laws of nature,” the word “law” -denoted a lawgiver issuing arbitrary commands. It is in this primitive -sense that our journalist uses the word “law.” He entirely ignores its -appropriation by science and the modern acceptation of the term “laws of -nature.” Nature has no arbitrary commands, he says, and therefore infers -no laws. We admit the premise while denying the inference. The laws of -health are invariable, although they do not necessarily dominate, since -other and opposing laws of disorganization may at any moment get the -upper hand. Man is competent to disregard the laws of life; but if he so -acts, another course of natural order is initiated, and he becomes -subject to pathological laws which conduct him steadily to the grave. -Necessity without arbitrary command rules in the cosmos; and if -happiness, which all humanity desires, is attained, it will be by -conforming to all the laws of nature that favour that end. Within, there -are the laws of human organization, without, the laws of circumstance or -environment. The humanity that has intellect and scientific knowledge -may, by union and co-operation, take a firm advantage of these laws or -uniformities of nature and march steadily forward, controlling the -forces of nature by a willing obedience to natural law. - -No sooner, observe, does this control become possible than natural -rights come into existence. Man rises in the scale of being to a sphere -of self-direction and comparative liberty. The wolf and bear and all -wild animals are on the lower level, and have no natural rights. They -are controlled by forces external to themselves, and the struggle for -existence and survival of the fittest is the law of destiny to them. It -is not so, however, with the horse, dog, cat, etc., for man has lifted -all domesticated animals from under the rule of genetic forces, and -placed them under the rule of reasoned forces. He controls their -breeding, limits their numbers, and gives them a happy life consistent -with his own. Further, he claims for them and concedes to them natural -rights; and note this point, the last phrase of our journalist’s -misleading paragraph is strictly true: “All rights are conventional.” -Convention means by tacit agreement, and it is by tacit agreement on the -part of civilized men that rights of men and rights of animals exist and -are respected. An impulse of the higher life, viz., a law of sympathy, -impels civilized man to seek happiness for other beings as well as -himself, and intelligence shows him that individual happiness promotes -general happiness, and further that no individual happiness is possible -without a certain amount of personal liberty. - -Individual rights, then, are a claim for a certain amount of personal -liberty, and the sentiment of individual rights is an unconscious inward -preparedness to defend that claim. It lies at the very foundation of -modern ethics, since from it there springs the outward equipoise of -egoistic and altruistic forces, the inward, subtle, delicate sense of -equitable relations, in other words, _justice_—the moral backbone of the -modern conscience. - -Let us see how we treat, in our nurseries, this foundation of ethics, -this sentiment of individual rights. We enter a middle-class nursery -where a baby and his sister Jessie, a child of three years of age, are -side by side on the floor. An impulse seizes baby to clutch the doll, -which Jessie holds firmly. Baby screams and nurse turns round and lifts -him in her arms. “See, Jessie,” she says, “he wants your doll, surely -you will be kind to baby brother?” She takes the doll from Jessie and -gives it to the infant. Jessie throws herself on the ground and kicks -and screams. A paroxysm of emotion sweeps over her, and until the wave -has spent itself tranquillity in nerve or muscle is simply impossible. -But the nurse, ignorant of the fact that the child is for the moment -bereft of any power of self-control, commands her to be still, and when -not obeyed, she scolds her severely. Finally she puts her in a corner, -and there poor Jessie sobs and weeps till pure exhaustion brings her to -passivity and an abject state of mind which nurse calls “being good -again.” She signifies her approval of it by a kiss of forgiveness as -unmerited as the previous anger. - -Now here we have an emotion supremely important to the welfare of -humanity rudely desecrated in infancy. There was nothing base, sordid, -exclusive or even selfish in the tempest of feeling that swept away the -placidity of Jessie’s little soul. Mingled together there was an impulse -to defend her personal rights and a hot indignation that any -infringement of these rights should occur. And the whole was a wave of -the complex forces destined to weld society into an organic whole, -capable of maintaining free institutions. When the nurse through -ignorance punished the child for the involuntary expression of a -virtuous social-emotion, she was opposing the very order of nature that -genetic evolution is striving to attain; she was checking the progress -of modern civilization. - -Later in the day Jessie with her doll restored to her arms is happy -again. Baby plays with his rattle on nurse’s knee; but Jessie thinks, -“My dolly is a baby too and wants a rattle.” She takes the rattle out of -baby’s hands to give to dolly. Baby shouts and kicks, and nurse is -furious. She slaps Jessie and calls her a “naughty child.” There is no -ebullition of anger this time, although the tender little fingers ache -from the rude blow. Jessie shrinks aside with a subdued air. Had her -former rebellion been an impulse of pure vindictiveness it would have -repeated itself now. It had no such feature. It revealed the fact that -Jessie was the offspring of a self-dependent, self-protective race -preparing for a new stage of social evolution, and her aspect at the -present crisis reveals the same. She did not know she was in the wrong; -but vaguely she felt it. She had trespassed on baby’s rights, and -conscience dumbly stirred in her infant bosom. If intelligence is strong -the child questions silently, “Why may baby take my doll when I may not -take his rattle?” The nurse will give no answer. Her province is to feed -and cleanse and clothe her charges, and, if need be, punish action. But -the motive springs of action lie quite beyond her range, and what is the -consequence? If Jessie’s intellect predominates over her emotional -quality, her conscience may develop, although under adverse conditions; -but if the balance tends the other way the position is fatal. The child -gathers her ideas of right and wrong from the frowns and smiles, the -slaps or kisses of an ignorant woman who is ruling the nursery with an -authority purely barbaric, and the budding conscience of a modern -civilization adapts itself to the archaic environment and reverts or -lapses backward. - -Further, observe, the nurse strove to create—in this case, at -least—sympathy towards a baby brother. Was this wise? It was not wise, -although well-intentioned. Sympathy never develops under command, and to -order a child to be kind at the moment when an aggression has been made -on his or her rights is like commanding a steam-engine to move forward -without turning on the steam! Moreover, baby, young as he was, suffered -mentally and morally by the event. He learned an evil lesson, viz., that -if he cried he would probably get what he wanted. Vigorously, though -unconsciously, he will pursue that vicious course and act up to the -principle. - -Does my reader inquire “What should the nurse have done?” She should -have instantly removed the baby, saying gently to Jessie, “Children must -never take things from one another. Not even a baby can be permitted to -do that, and we must teach him better. But see he is so young, he does -not know the doll is yours, not his. Would you like to lend it to him -for a little? No? Ah, well he cannot have it then, but come and help me -to amuse him that he may forget the doll.” The older child puts down her -treasure to fondle her baby brother, and there are ten chances to one -that by-and-bye her sympathy—called out naturally and not by -command—carries her a step further, and she says: “Nurse, baby may hold -my doll for a little now.” Later, when the brilliant idea occurs that -dolly would enjoy the rattle, Jessie understands—she does not blindly, -vaguely feel, she knows—that she must not trespass on baby’s rights. She -restrains her impulse therefore to snatch the rattle, and in this -self-control she is exercising the noblest faculty of her nature under -the dominion of a moral conscience—a sense of justice or equivalence of -rights. - -And now we pass from an upper middle-class nursery to any British boys’ -school or playground. We find that quarrels there arise not so much from -the simple barbarous impulses of cruelty, hatred, revenge, fear, as from -a different source—an effective sense of personal rights unbalanced by -an equally effective sense of sympathy with the rights of others. The -phenomenon here is justice in embryo, self-conscious, but lacking -development on the altruistic side. “It isn’t” or “it wasn’t fair” is a -phrase frequently upon a schoolboy’s lips, and it is remarkable with -what courage and dignity an urchin of ten or twelve will criticize a -master’s treatment of him, and perhaps tell the man of fifty to his face -that this or that “wasn’t fair.” - -Were every boy as eager that all human beings—schoolmasters -included—should be as fairly treated as he himself, the only further -regulation of conduct necessary would be a clear intelligence to discern -truth from falsehood in every case of misdemeanour. Instructed -intelligence is however a minus quantity, and the sympathetic jealousy -for the rights of others that exists here and there amongst boys in -minor quantity, gets deflected from its true course. It links boys of -one age together in a mutual fellowship that excludes masters and all -others. Nor is this difficult to understand. Mutual interests is the -soil in which sympathy grows; but with arbitrary authority in the field, -also conflicting desires, and no distinct teaching on the subject, the -deeper relations of life, I mean the mutual interests of teacher and -taught and of the whole school as a social unity, are often ignored. To -shield a companion from punishment, at all hazards, becomes virtue in a -schoolboy’s eyes, and antagonisms spring up with confused notions of -right and wrong, and a general impulse to falsehood and deceit in -special directions. These are menacing features of character for the -social life of the future. Men of introspection have recognized in -themselves the baneful after-effects of the clannishness engendered at -school. Robert Louis Stevenson bewailed the extreme difficulty he had in -forcing himself to perform a distinct public duty. It involved some -exposure dishonourable to a former schoolmate! “I felt,” he said, “like -a cad!” - -From middle-class nurseries where authority is chiefly barbaric and the -budding conscience is hurt, children destined to become the élite of a -future society and its rulers, pass into schools where there is no clear -and definite training for the emotional nature, no scientific -development of the social, and repression of the anti-social impulses. -From school the student passes to college or university, and is -emancipated more or less from outward control. When he enters upon the -duties and pleasures of adult life he presents, in many ways, an element -of social danger, for this simple reason, his native bumptiousness, his -sense of individual rights is not held in check by an intelligent -understanding of, and feeling of sympathy with, the equal rights of -others. The groundwork of the modern conscience has been tampered with -while authority—propelled by genetic forces of evolution—has gradually -relaxed and fallen back before the free-born British schoolboy. By our -present system of education we destroy infant virtue in the nursery and -in the school. We dwarf that sympathy which should grow and expand till -it bursts forth in manhood into deeds of rectitude, justice, love, -manifesting the threefold quality of human nature which alone is -competent to lift the whole area of man’s existence into line with -cosmic order. Our schools are yearly pouring into the busy world a rich -harvest of human aptitudes that are quickly absorbed in activities -mercantile, professional, legislative, but the outcome of these -activities is not tuning life into social harmony, it is merely -increasing national wealth, and that without any marked increase of -plenty and pleasure to the nation at large. The picture presented is one -of perpetual warfare—an outward struggle in money-making for oneself and -family, an inward contentious spirit that reveals itself abroad in our -blatant imperialism, at home in class antagonisms—the whole re-acting -fatally on individual character and lowering the general standard of -civilized life. Generous enthusiasms die down, the emotional nature -hardens, till intelligence itself is dimmed and becomes incapable of any -wide outlook that entails unselfish effort. - -As a rule—though with honourable exceptions—our compatriots advanced in -life do not fulfil the promise of their youth; and with forces of nature -amenable to man’s will, if wisely directed, real progress in this -scientific age is wofully sluggish. We focus attention on environments -that press on adults only, and in seeking reform overlook the -environments that vitally effect our infant population, therefore the -adult life of the future. - -How different is our action in other directions. In horticultural -nurseries, for instance, progress is not sluggish. Scientific discovery -and methods of practice are applied and promptly produce definite -results. The composite plants are distinguished from simple plants, and -while all are secured in necessary conditions of healthy life—good soil, -air, light, etc.—those receive from the gardener a special fostering -care. He studies the laws of differentiation, the peculiarities of each -organism with its hidden possibilities of varied efflorescence, and by -fitting environment to wider issues, watching them day by day, -nourishing every tendency favourable, checking every tendency -unfavourable, he induces an outburst of blossom as varied in colour and -form as it is marvellous in beauty or grace, and that in spite of the -fact that unaided by natural forces he is utterly powerless to make a -blade of grass grow. - -That human plants give promise of blossoming into a _moral_ beauty as -yet undreamed of by the British public is patent to any wise observer of -the confused social life of to-day. Our greatest realists in fiction -note the point. We have George Meredith putting into the mouth of his -hero, Matthew Weyburn, these significant words: “Eminent station among -men doesn’t give a larger outlook ... I have come now and then across -people we call common, slow-minded, but hard in their grasp of facts and -ready to learn and logical. They were at the bottom of wisdom, for they -had in their heads the delicate sense of justice upon which wisdom is -founded ... that is what their rulers lack. Unless we have the sense of -justice abroad like a common air there’s no peace and no steady advance. -But these humble people had it. I felt them to be my superiors. On the -other hand, I have not felt the same with our senators, rulers and -lawgivers. They are for the most part deficient in the liberal mind.” -(_Lord Ormont and his Aminta._) - -As regards physical health, I have shown the necessity for stirpiculture -and the birth of the fit; as regards mental and moral health, i.e. -Humanity’s efflorescence on higher planes—the need of the times is less -eugenics than education and training. Germs of truth, justice, love, lie -latent in the basic structure of our half-civilized race, and so long as -we neglect or destroy these germs it were folly to desire material of -finer quality. “Our raw material is of the very best,” said the -headmistress of a London Board School, “our children are full of -generous impulses and fearless spontaneity. I sometimes think the -no-rule in the homes of the masses a better preparation for life than -the factitious training given in homes of the classes. But our teachers -are so few and so seldom scientifically enlightened that we spoil very -much of the good material.” On behalf of the classes my reader might -argue that susceptibility to beauty or the aesthetic sentiment with its -creative expression in art belongs almost exclusively to the upper -section of society, and is deemed by some social reformers the very -foundation of moral life, the basis of the ethical temper. - -It is not my purpose to provoke comparison between the classes and the -masses, and I fully recognize the value of the fine arts as factors in -the general elevation of life and character, but I submit that evolution -does not pursue the same line of development in the various races of -mankind, and in the British race an advanced ethical temper is in -process of formation quite irrespective of the fine arts and the -aesthetic sentiment. - -Dr. Le Bon laid before the French Geographical Society an account of a -primitive group of people, numbering several hundred thousand, who -inhabit a remote region high up among the Carpathian mountains. Of this -people, the Podhalians, he says, “they are born improvisatori, poets and -musicians, singing their own songs, set to music of their own -composition. Their poetry is tender and artless in sentiment, generous -and elevated in style.” He attributes these qualities to the wealth of -spontaneous resources possessed by natures which neither know violent -passions nor unnatural excitements. The British race, moulded by -different conditions—geographical and historical—has developed -differently. Great masses of our population are wholly insensitive to -the influences of art. The picture drawn by Wordsworth of his Peter Bell -comes nearer to our native uncultured type— - - A primrose by the river’s brim - A yellow primrose was to him, - And it was nothing more. - The soft blue sky did never melt - Into his heart, he never felt - The witchery of the soft blue sky. - -Nevertheless, through another channel he was touched to the quick. -Thrilled into sudden sweetness and pathos by the sight of a widow’s -tears— - - In agony of silent grief - From his own thoughts did Peter start; - He longs to press her to his heart - From love that cannot find relief. - -The hard life of our workers has undoubtedly deprived them, as yet, of -any widespread aesthetic development, but the chords of their vital -part, if played upon, produce a sentient state far removed from the -rudimentary stage. It is a product of centuries of evolution. - -This humanity will move forward to higher planes of existence, and a -spiritual plenitude—of which aestheticism is by no means the crown and -glory, but only an imperfect foretaste—by two convergent paths trodden -concurrently. These are a steady growth in social qualities and the -happiness that flows from these qualities, the creation, in short, of -organic socialism; and the opening up outwardly of channels of sympathy -and community of interests throughout the whole nation, causing the -banishment of class distinctions, the establishment of an organized -socialism. Perfection in art is not the appropriate ideal for this age, -but perfection in social life, and it is not from a love of art to a -love of mankind and the practices of moral rectitude that our masses -will advance. It is by the practice of all the humanities on ever -broader, deeper lines, until the nation, vibrating with harmonized life, -frames new visions of art, and strengthens all the well-springs of art’s -creation. - -The aestheticism that belongs exclusively to one social class neither -elevates general morals nor produces the noblest art. Its narrowing -influences are exemplified in Lord Chesterfield’s advice to his son: “If -you love music, go to operas, concerts, and pay fiddlers to play to you; -but I insist on your neither piping nor fiddling yourself. It puts a -gentleman in a contemptible light; ... few things would mortify me more -than to see you bearing a part in a concert with a fiddle under your -chin.” Lord Chesterfield belonged to a past century, but the spirit of -his thought is not dead; it manifests prominently to-day. In my own -experience a lady novelist was invited to a London At Home, and accepted -conditionally. If evening costume were necessary she must decline, but -if less ceremonious dress were permissible she would gladly appear, and -the hostess consenting, she did so. Now I heard a large group of -middle-class ladies passionately condemning this action, on the ground -that aestheticism had been outraged and the rules of society set at -nought by a blot in rooms otherwise beautiful. Yet the novelist had been -tastefully attired, that was freely admitted. She had sinned merely in -nonconformity to fashion and in covering her neck and arms. Can we -seriously believe that the type of humanity to which these ladies belong -is developing the liberal mind which alone may create and support the -highest morality, the noblest art? Are we not compelled to recognize the -truth of Mr. J. H. Levy’s profound remark: “In the present stage of -human progress the aesthetic and the moral are conterminate at neither -end. Aesthetic emotion may be roused in us by that which is ethically -odious, and moral feeling may be called up by that which is artistically -ugly.” (_The National Reformer._) - -The true ethical temper is engendered by a complexity of social -attractions issuing in an inward sense of justice and the delicate -equipoise of natural rights between _meum_ and _tuum_. The task before -us is to unite the half-conscious, instinctive justice already existent -with an intellectual apprehension and clear understanding of right and -wrong, in other words, to complete the modern conscience; and in view of -this task we must distinctly realize that the sentiment of what is -proper and improper in conventional society has no ethical value, and is -a false guide to conduct. - - - - - CHAPTER II - RAPACITY, PRIDE, LOVE OF PROPERTY - - The facts which it is at once most important and most difficult to - appreciate are what may be called the facts of feeling.—LECKY. - - -The area of man’s emotional life is one of vast magnitude. It lies -behind the scenes of his outward existence, yet it interpenetrates the -social structure throughout, and stretches beyond it to distances we -know not whence or whither. Mysterious as this region is, no sooner does -man aspire to control the social forces of collective life, as he -already largely controls the natural forces of physical life, than he is -compelled to apply his reason scientifically to the phenomena of human -emotions, and to contemplate, trace out and master there the general -features of the process of evolution. - -In the case of personal development the task is comparatively easy. A -child’s feelings are simple, not compound. For the most part they seem -vague and indefinite, always fleeting and evanescent; but as the child -grows his powers of feeling grow likewise and alter in character. Their -childish simplicity passes away; they augment in mass, they become -complex, more permanent and coherent in their nature, and far more -delicate in susceptibility. Consequently the breadth of range, the depth -and richness of emotion possible in an adult, as compared with the -emotions of a child, are as the music of an organ to the sweet notes -that lie within the compass of a penny whistle. - -In racial development evolution of feeling has not pursued one -invariable course. Distinctive sentiments and modes of feeling -characterize the different races of mankind as well as distinctive -outward features, and the impressing on a plastic race of these -divergent states of feeling is mainly, though not entirely, due to -external conditions—not climatic and geographical conditions only, but -also the form of civilization that had taken root and moulded the habits -and customs of the race. Greek civilization, for instance, tended to -develop largely the aesthetic group of feelings, while in Scotland these -feelings, through outward influences I must not pause to consider, have -been stunted in growth, and moral sentiments have had a deeper and -firmer development. - -Amongst barbarous tribes of men the violent emotions—anger, fear, -jealousy, revenge—generally speaking, hold sway; but there are also in -various parts of the world uncivilized communities where these fierce -passions are little known, and where, in consequence of the absence of -warlike surroundings, the gentle, tender sentiments that have for their -foundation family ties and peaceful social life, prevail, and are -considerably developed. - -The conditions of emotional evolution in a given race, then, are -complex. We have to bear in mind a threefold environment—cosmic, -planetary, social—pressing upon individual life and powerfully swaying -the emotional part of it. Social environment is pre-eminently potent in -modifying emotional characteristics; yet the prime factor of change in -social environment springs from this region of feeling, and this factor -may, under rational guidance, take a path of direct and rapid -progression. - -British civilization is the product of a turbulent, militant stage of -evolution, an epoch of military glory, followed by a long period of -industrial development and commercial activity. We inherit a survival of -virtues and vices from each of these evolutional stages. To the first we -attribute our courage, independence and proper pride, both national and -individual; and we are apt to suppose that without the experience of -military glory our manly John Bull would have been a milk-sop. That may -or may not be true; but when we infer that the above characteristics -depend fundamentally and absolutely upon a military environment we are -vastly mistaken. Observe what is said by travellers and missionaries of -certain unwarlike tribes found in India and the Malay Peninsula. The -Jakuns are inclined, we are told, to gratitude and beneficence, their -tendency being not to ask favours, but to confer them. The Arifuras have -a very excusable ambition to gain the name of rich men by paying the -debts of their poorer fellow-villagers! One gentle Arifura, who had -hoped to be chosen chief of his village and was not, met his -disappointment with the spirit of a philosopher and philanthropist, -saying: “What reason have I to grieve? I still have it in my power to -assist my fellow-villagers.” When brought into contact with men of an -opposite type—hardy, fierce and turbulent, they have no tendency to show -the white feather. The amiable Dhimal is independent and courageous, and -resists “with dogged obstinacy” injunctions that are urged -injudiciously. The Jakun is extremely proud—his pride showing itself in -refusals to be domesticated and made useful to men of a different race -and therefore alien to himself. The simple-minded Santal has a “strong -natural sense of justice, and should any attempt be made to coerce him, -he flies the country. The Santal is courteous and hospitable, whilst at -the same time he is free from cringing.” Dalton writes of the Hos—a -tribe belonging to the same group as the Santals—“a reflection on a -man’s honesty or veracity may be sufficient to send him to -self-destruction”; and of the Lepchas, Hooker says, “In all my dealings -with them they have proved scrupulously honest.... They cheer on the -traveller by their unostentatious zeal in his service, and when a -present is given to them, it is divided equally among many without a -syllable of discontent or a grudging look or word.”[4] - -Footnote 4: - - Herbert Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, vol. 2, pp. 628, 630, 631. - -From these facts we gather that a number of virtues associated in our -minds with Western civilization are present amid barbarous tribes, and -that the vices associated by us with barbarism—cruelty, dishonesty, -treachery, selfishness—are in some cases glaringly absent. Human nature -is not dependent on culture or Christianity to humanize and make it -lovable. There is that in the very groundwork of its nature which -renders it capable of developing, under favourable conditions, into what -is admirable, pure and gracious. The traits given us of these peoples -show virtue, truth, generosity, moral courage and justice, and what -nobler, more elevated sentiments have as yet been found in civilized -man? - -The favourable conditions are an entire absence of warlike surroundings -and warlike training, hence an absence also of any inheritance of -warlike proclivities. These tribes “have remained unmolested for -generation after generation; they have inflicted no injuries on others.” -Their social or unselfish feelings have been fostered and nourished by -the sympathetic intercourse of a peaceful life. - -In a purely military state unselfish feelings are necessarily repressed, -whilst the bold, keen, hard and cruel side of human nature is liberally -developed. To hate an enemy and avenge an injury are manly virtues. The -predatory instincts are useful and approved. Treachery is not -discredited, and the man clever enough to take advantage of an enemy and -successfully intrigue against him may be ranked among the gods! The -plunderer who falters not in keen pursuit of prey and in the hour of -victory shows relentless cruelty is deemed heroic. No thought of -happiness or misery to others gives him pause; military glory is his -absorbing aim, and in the intervals of peace his callous nature -manifests in ruling with tyrannic power slavish subordinates, who bend -and cringe before him. - -Now let us glance at two of these militant characteristics, viz. -rapacity and personal pride, with a view to observe how their survival -into our industrial epoch has vitiated the national life. - -The purely militant stage of British development has passed, and the -outward form of our collective life is industrial, not military. A -sanguinary path of glory has no intrinsic fascination for our people, -and there is no national desire to conquer and rule over races -established on other parts of the earth’s surface, however superior to -ours may be their climate and quarters. Nevertheless, within the last -half century we have fought battles and shed blood copiously in China, -Persia, Afghanistan, Abyssinia, Egypt, South Africa and elsewhere. -Seldom, however, has the nation itself clamoured for war. In the year -1854 a relapse into militant mood occurred, and, in spite of -unwillingness on the part of individual rulers, the Government yielded -to a sinister wave of barbaric feeling in the nation—a martial frenzy -that impelled to the Crimean War. Since that period wars have originated -from other causes than the will of the nation. Our people, immersed in a -painful struggle for livelihood at home, are indifferent to the rights -and wrongs of the many squabbles into which we flounder abroad. General -malevolence has no part in this matter; our real collective attitude -towards foreigners is one of friendliness, combined with an impulse to -the peaceful exchange of commodities, kind words and gentle arts—the -whole provocative of love, not hatred. - -The fundamental causes of war, then, have been: first, the commercial -interests of a capitalist class, or, if expressed in terms of feeling, -the desire in that class for increased wealth—a desire partly the -product of inherited rapacity, a sentiment descended to us from our -militant epoch; second, national pride—a pride which has kindled -animosities, embroiled us in disputes and dragged us into wars, the -pettiness of whose small beginnings is only matched by the pettiness of -British conduct throughout their whole extent. But both this rapacity -and this national pride belong almost exclusively to our ruling classes. -Their existence is explained by the action of outward conditions on -special sections of the community. The British passed suddenly out of a -period of constant fighting and feud into a period of frantic industrial -activity. Feudal chiefs and their descendants became grasping landlords. -There also sprang up a class of sharp-witted, keen-sighted men, whose -native rapacity strengthened in the genial hot-bed of our brilliant -commercial success. A tremendous start in the international race after -wealth was secured to Great Britain by her possession of iron, coal, -etc. She absorbed riches from every quarter of the globe, and mercantile -triumph swelled the pride already deeply implanted in our industrial -organizers, our politicians and plenipotentiaries. The great mass of the -people were differently affected by industrial conditions. Workers of -every description, packed together in towns and factories, rapidly -developed the qualities of intimate social life, and out-grew, in the -main, the savage instincts of militancy. Our commercial wars and -Imperialistic policy are fruits—not of the nation’s brutality, its -greed, or its pride, but of its simple ignorance and its blind trust in -individuals peculiarly unfitted by inheritance and personal bias to -guide it aright in relations with other, and especially with weaker, -nations. All the wars of recent times—a record of cruel bloodshed -causing needless sorrow and suffering to the innocent—have been -instigated by the ruling classes under the dominion of rapacity and -pride. When these ruling classes are dispossessed of supreme power, and -civilized democracies assume public responsibility with political -supremacy, the day of disarming of nations will dawn. The world’s -workers who, apart from their rulers, have no tendency to undue -accumulation or national pride, but whose bias, on the contrary, is -towards sympathetic co-operation in industry, will strenuously seek the -joys and blessings of universal peace. - -But although the war-spirit of the ancient Briton dies out and general -brutality declines, individual brutality, practised privately, is common -enough. Class tyranny, sex tyranny, and much of domestic tyranny are -rampant; and the co-relative feelings, viz. abject fear giving rise to -hatred, anger, malice, cunning and despicable meanness of soul, are all -strongly in evidence. - -The industrial system that succeeded our military system is of no -genuinely social type. It is distinctly contentious, and when we -consider how it has pressed for about a century upon a plastic race -inwardly prone to every vice engendered by militancy, the matter for -surprise perhaps is that we are as good as we are. - -In classifying emotional states there is a sentiment which, if not -begotten, has at least been bred, nourished and widely diffused during -our industrial epoch—I mean the sentiment, love of property. On no -subject are opposite opinions more strongly and disputatiously held than -on the question of the nature and value of this sentiment. It is claimed -by some as not only the chief support of present-day society, but the -prime evolutional factor of our entire civilization. A savage only cares -to secure the things he is in immediate need of. He lacks imagination to -picture what he may want to-morrow, also intelligence to provide for -future contingencies and sympathetic desire to provide for the wants of -others. - -No sooner, however, does an established government give safe protection -to individual property than prudence and forethought appear. The man who -acquires property soon surrounds himself with comforts, and inspires in -others the desire to follow his example. Social wealth accumulates, and -energies are set free for further development. Some social units become -complex, intellectual tastes and love of travel arise, and works of -art—the treasure-trove of earlier civilizations—are impounded to lay the -foundation of artistic life in the later civilization. Aesthetic culture -now grows rapidly. Painting, poetry, music abound, and men may be lifted -above the meaner cares of existence to an inward freedom, where sympathy -expands through the exercise of elevated thought and feeling. Is not -love of property, then, a sentiment to honour and conserve? Its genesis -and history certainly command respect; but the already quoted case of -the Podhalians proves that by no means is it an essential in human -evolution. To that primitive people, as Dr. Le Bon has shown, riches -have no charms; they are poor, living principally upon oats made into -cakes and goat’s milk. They enjoy perfect health and live long. They are -quick in apprehension, fond of dancing, singing, music and poetry. There -is clearly no development here of the property-sense, yet the Podhalians -have a very considerable development of that group of emotions we term -aesthetic and regard as an evidence of high refinement and culture. We -are not therefore logically entitled to claim that were British love of -property and British cupidity greatly diminished, art as a consequence -must needs decay and the race revert into barbarism. - -Herbert Spencer tells us “that in some established societies there has -been a constant exercise of the feeling which is satisfied by a -provision for the future, and a growth of this feeling so great that it -now prompts accumulation to an extent beyond what is needful.” (1st vol. -of _Essays_, 2nd series, p. 132.) - -That point has been overpassed by the British. What we have now to -struggle against are varied evils arising from a glut of national wealth -(but I do not mean by this term commodities of intrinsic value, only -wealth representing an acknowledged claim on the labour of others) and a -frightful inflation of the sentiments allied with wealth, which at one -time were useful, but for generations have been producing outward vice -and inward misery and corruption. - -The British merchant goes on accumulating long after he has amply -provided for himself and family, and many a poor man feels towards that -other’s wealth precisely as a savage feels towards his fetish. He is -filled with reverence, admiration, desire and a sense of distance from -the golden calf that makes him hopeless, abject, despairing. - -The American millionaire, as depicted by Mr. Howells, will, “on a hot -day, when the mortal glare of the sun blazes in upon heart and brain, -plot and plan in his New York office till he swoons at the desk.” Such a -man is as much a victim to over-development of acquisitiveness as the -drunkard is victim to an undue development of the love of stimulants, -and in each case the depraved taste carries ruin to the individual and -havoc into society. Social unity is rent in twain. A life of exuberant -wealth and extravagant expenditure runs parallel with one of constant, -inescapable poverty, and so long as the nation continues to heap up -riches in private possession, just so long must we reap an emotional -harvest of envy, malice, private animosities, class hatreds and a subtle -estrangement of heart throughout the length and breadth of the land. Yet -even the great poet Tennyson in his writings exalts into a worthy motive -for holy wedlock this sentiment—love of property. An affectionate -father, in the poem, “The Sisters,” exhorts his daughters thus: “One -should marry, or ... all the broad lands will pass collaterally”! - -The small accumulator whose petty hoard of gold was gloated over piece -by piece has long been labelled miser. He is publicly condemned, and in -literature derided. But the merchant-prince who, already wealthy, -devotes days and years and his whole mind and heart to business; the -proprietor of broad lands who adds acre to acre, and anxiously meditates -on their passing collaterally; the rich capitalist who craftily seeks to -lower wages in the interests of employers; the gambler on the Stock -Exchange; the market manipulator whose predatory instincts are so -pleasurably excited by risks and gains that he will hazard in the game -all that nobler men hold precious—these beings, I say, are as worthy of -scorn and infinitely more baneful than the miser. They must take their -true place by his side in public estimation. They are social -deformities, morally diseased. In other words, these men are incapable -of moral duty, which consists in “the observance of those rules of -conduct that contribute to the welfare of society—the end of society -being peace and mutual protection, so that the individual may reach the -fullest and highest life attainable by man.” (_Huxley’s Life_, vol. ii. -p. 305.) - -In the preceding chapter I have shown that the self-regarding -sentiment exercised with due consideration for the welfare of others -is a social virtue. It promotes national prosperity and personal -improvement. But self-regarding actions, induced by this -master-passion over-acquisitiveness, invariably issue in automatic -selfishness and general deterioration. - -In regard to aesthetic emotions also the cleavage between rich and poor -has a fatal significance. A luxurious, idle, for the most part, inane, -life led by the rich, profoundly influences the poor; not by creating -anti-social feeling only, but by checking aesthetic development. In the -city of many slums there is also a west-end of gay shops filled with -objects _de luxe_, of showily dressed women, profligate men, theatre, -music-hall and ball-room entrances, at which to stand gazing as into a -fairy peep-show. Suggestion here plays a mischievous part. Poverty -hinders the purchase of all commodities that possess any real artistic -value, but commercial enterprise has flooded the markets with -meretricious imitations. East-end shops reflect the glitter and glow of -west-end attractions, and the ignorant, spell-bound by suggestion, -become possessors of that which degrades and vulgarizes taste or the -sense of the beautiful. Now that science partially dominates thought, -our eyes have been opened to the fact of essential unity in human -groups. We may trace the cause of a social evil to a special section or -class, but the effects of that cause radiate forth till they touch -_every_ section or class. Dwellers in the west-end cannot escape disease -propagated by the vilely unwholesome conditions of life at the east-end. -Micro-organisms of disease are wafted from hither to thither, and on the -physical plane social unity is recognized. A like continuity exists on -the non-physical side. Minds are as closely united by psychical law as -bodies by physical law. The experienced facts of hypnotism make this -clear, and the logical inference is that in Western civilization the -vices of wealthy classes infect and corrupt the masses. - -That the imagination of the great mass of our people should be snared -and their evolutional progress thwarted by mental suggestion from a -banal, vicious life led by a comparatively small portion of the nation, -is an outrage on civilization. It renders it imperative that the cause -of this evil, viz., our contentious, i.e. our competitive system of -industry, should be fundamentally changed. - -For every group of human beings the steady growth of those social -qualities which create happiness and the steady advance in intellectual, -aesthetic and spiritual life, depend on a close community of interests -and the constant opening up of fresh channels of sympathy throughout the -group. But the British racial group has lost this community of -interests—this primary condition of steady growth. It is split up into, -first, a class of property possessors made effeminate by ill-spent -leisure, often inflated by pride, and at all times demanding the -artificial pleasures of a luxurious life; second, a class striving to -amass property, a class whose thoughts and desires circle round and -centre in property, and who to acquire it often sacrifice serenity of -mind, health of body, and even life itself; and third, the mass of the -people who, having no property, are yet enslaved by it, and who on the -emotional side of their human nature are debased and corrupted by the -mental state of the classes. - -As evolution approaches the era of manhood of human reason it becomes -conscious, and demands a national effort to improve. That effort first -appears in the strenuous, scientific study of life as it is, in attempts -at social reconstruction, and at improvement in public and private -education. It is seen to be necessary to stamp out all the militant and -predatory instincts of mankind by ethical nurture and training, while -all the gentle, gracious qualities of mankind must be carefully guarded -and nourished, until, in every social unit the effort to improve is -habitual, i.e. has become “the essential mode of its being.” (J. McGavin -Sloan.) - - - - - CHAPTER III - PERSONAL JEALOUSY—NATIONAL PATRIOTISM - - “Jealousy is cruel as the grave.” - - We shall progress faster by diligent striving to fashion the feeling - of the time and stir it from the intellectual apathy which is the - chiefest curse of the State.—ALEX. M. THOMSON. - - The danger that confronts the new century is the recrudescence of - racial antipathies and national animosities.—HERMANN ADLER. - - -The passion of jealousy has a long and significant history, and a -pedigree more ancient than the allied sentiment, love of property, which -has just been considered. The passion was useful to the welfare of the -tribe at an early period, but it survives as purely a vice in the midst -of consolidated nations, for it is essentially anti-social, not -necessary to general welfare, and impossible to be exercised -sympathetically or for the good of others. If I am jealous it means that -I have a source of personal delight that I would guard from others and -monopolise if I could. The happiness may be self-produced or rest on a -being whom I love. In both cases it causes within me fears of -interference, suspicion of my fellows, and a general tendency to -dislike, nay, even to hate them if they dare to meddle with my secret -joy. The emotion is fundamentally selfish, and when an individual is -sympathetic all round he becomes incapable of it. He has risen above the -egoistic passion of jealousy. - -Mr. Darwin tells us that amongst savages addicted to “intemperance, -utter licentiousness and unnatural crimes, no sooner does marriage, -whether polygamous or monogamous, become common than jealousy leads to -the inculcation of female virtue.” This gives the clue to the problem of -jealousy’s evolutional value. It has played a part in the destiny of -woman, and tended to shape her emotional nature. Its history is -inextricably intertwined with hers, in all the varying degrees of -servitude that mark her slow advance from a condition of absolute -chattelism to one of rational equality with man. - -By virtue of superior strength man has acted on the theory that he was -made for God, and woman for him! and in the process of establishing his -dominancy jealousy appeared and aided powerfully the gradual development -of a new emotion—constancy, a social grace and virtue as certain to wax -and grow as jealousy is to wane and slowly disappear. - -In literature one finds a reflection of the entire history of jealousy -and all its consecutive changes from barbarous times through the ages, -when frequent duels witnessed to the honourable place it held in public -estimation down to the present day, when it is somewhat discredited, and -duelling—in Great Britain at least—has ceased altogether. To track this -history were impossible here; I can only point to one or two significant -pictures. - -The play of “Othello” depicts the barbarous social conditions in which -jealousy flourishes. Shakespeare reveals both the anti-social nature of -the passion and the intellectual weakness of the mind that harbours it. -“Trifles light as air,” says Iago, “are to the jealous confirmation -strong as proofs of holy writ.” And in effect Othello is incapable of -sifting evidence. The poor device of the stolen handkerchief seals the -fate of Desdemona! Woman’s subject position is plainly set forth, and -the foundations of the passion in masculine master-hood and pride of -power are fully exposed. Othello’s wife must be his slave and puppet. -“Out of my sight,” he cries, and patiently she goes. “Mistress,” he -calls, and she returns. “You did wish,” he says to Lodovico, “that I -would make her turn.” Desdemona is the very type of patient, gentle, -enslaved womanhood, the ideal woman of a rough, brutal age. Her father -describes her as— - - A maiden never bold; - Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion - Blush’d at herself. - -Observe, however, inwardly she is more advanced than the men. She -perceives the low nature of jealousy, and to Emilia says touchingly, “My -noble Moor is true of mind, and made of no such baseness as jealous -creatures are.” Alas, for her generous confidence! And when the base -passion transforms her “noble Moor” into a monster of cruelty, she, true -to the type of her sex at the period, resembles a pet dog that fawns -upon and licks the hand that strikes him. This patient moan is all her -utterance— - - ’Tis meet I should be used so, very meet, - How have I been behaved that he might stick - The small’st opinion on my least misuse. - -The only dignity she shows is in her refusal to display her sorrow -before Emilia: - - Do not talk to me, Emilia; - I cannot weep, nor answer I have none. - -Jealousy and duelling flourished long after the Shakesperian period. -Prose fiction in the eighteenth century is full of the subject of -masculine rivalry in the appropriation of the female sex. The woman -passionately desired is the prize or reward of a victory in which the -hero has manifested adroitness in arts of bloodshed. Feminine will plays -no part in the decision to which man the heroine shall belong, and the -rivals for her possession make no pretence of superior character as a -claim on her favour. The gentle spiritual qualities that alone create -union of heart and mind seem unknown. Master-hood, an apotheosis of -force, is the key to the drama; and the rapid rise of the novel in -public esteem shows that pleasurable sensations were closely allied with -the barbarous actions and feelings that belong to a militant age. - -Early in the nineteenth century George Eliot draws the hero of her first -great novel (_Adam Bede_) in the act of picking a quarrel with a rival -for a woman’s love. She shows jealousy in him springing chiefly from a -sense of property in Hetty. The wounded pride and self-importance of a -too despotic nature finds relief in fighting Arthur Donnithorne. In -_Middlemarch_ the transition to a higher stage of evolution is marked. -She gives us there a graphic picture of a woman wrestling with jealousy -in the secrecy of her own chamber, and correctly places in the tenderly -emotional nature of that sex the primary impulse to subdue the vile -passion. Female jealousy made no appeal to arms, but in a thousand -subtle ways it was sending forth currents of anti-social force, and -without a widespread feminine repudiation of jealousy no clear advance -to higher social life was possible. Dorothea is a true type of -progressing womanhood. She gains a victory in the noble warfare we see -her waging inwardly, and, rising far above the vile passion, she goes -forth to her rival in a glow of generous emotion that not only compels -the confidence of the latter, but for the time draws that selfish, -narrow nature up to the level of her own. - -There is no false note in this picture, and if we glance at the -transcript of real life at the period we may easily find its -counterpart. The well-known writer, Mrs. Jamieson (in her _Commonplace -Book_) relates: “I was not more than six years old when I suffered, from -the fear of not being loved, and from the idea that another was -preferred before me, such anguish as had nearly killed me! Whether those -around me regarded it as a fit of ill-temper or a fit of illness I do -not know. I could not then have given a name to the pang that fevered -me, but I never forgot that suffering. It left a deep impression, and -the recollection was so far salutary that in after life I guarded myself -against the approaches of that hateful, deformed, agonizing thing which -men call jealousy, as I would from an attack of cramp or cholera. If -such self-knowledge has not saved me from the pain, at least it has -saved me from the demoralizing effects of the passion, by a wholesome -terror and even a sort of disgust.” - -The knell of a departing phase of inner life was sounding when womanhood -acquired the power to sift evidence from childish recollections, to -detect the utter uselessness of the suffering jealousy creates and the -ignominy of allowing it to become a cause of suffering at all. - -Mrs. Jamieson stands on the threshold of a new era, for critical -intellect here enters the sphere of the emotions, and these, yielding to -guidance and control, human reason is henceforth a prime factor in -emotional evolution. - -But further, sympathy when developed to a certain point inevitably leads -men astray if not guided by reason. Let me here relate a sequence of -events that occurred in my own experience. - -Two girls became deeply attached; they worked and studied together, and -their friendship was a source of constant joy. In course of time, -however, one married, and the other girl felt forsaken. She suffered -from jealousy, and imagined that the husband would suffer similarly if -she kept her place in her friend’s affections. A husband’s right -amounted, in her view, to a monopoly of a wife’s tenderness. She strove, -therefore, to loosen the bond of friendship; to cool her own ardent -affection and make no claims, lest it should disturb conjugal bliss. The -action was brave and prompted by sympathy, but it did not make for -happiness. In a few short years the wife on her deathbed spoke thus to -her former friend: “Why did you separate yourself from me? How could you -think my love would change? I have been happy in my husband and child, -but love never narrowed, it widened me. There was plenty of room for -friendship, too. I sorely missed you, and felt your loss threw a shadow -over my married life.” - -Sympathy alone, then, is no unerring guide to conduct. Nevertheless, in -a society permeated by true knowledge of the nature of the emotions and -their significance in evolution primitive good-feeling may evolve, -passing through each stage from the basic or simple to the complex, and -every generous emotion prove accordant with the truth of things, and -therefore productive of inward joy and outward right action, i.e. action -tending to general welfare even in all the labyrinthine complexities of -a high civilization. _Emotion accordant with the truth of things_—that -is the crux of the position; and again I can best illustrate the point -by reference to events that occurred within my own knowledge—events, -too, by no means uncommon. During eight years a girl was engaged to -marry a man we shall call Roger. He was in India and she in England. -They corresponded, but meanwhile an intimacy sprang up between the girl -and another man—we may call him Mark—to whom unwittingly her heart went -out more warmly than it had ever done to Roger. She thought the relation -to Mark was one of pure friendship, and he knew nothing of her -engagement to Roger. The latter’s approaching return to England, -however, opened the girl’s eyes to her true position, and on Mark it -fell as a cruel blow. He had courted affection and responded to it in -all sincerity, and was merely withheld from an open avowal by the -consciousness of, as yet, insufficient means to justify his suit in the -eyes of her parents. When concealment was at an end the problem to him -seemed simple enough. “Which do you love best?” he asked, and added -dominantly, “he is the man you should marry.” The girl was not -convinced. The knowledge that she could not love Roger best filled her -with tenderness towards him. Her emotional nature—wide enough to embrace -both rivals with sympathy—could give no decision, and intellect was -confused by false teaching in childhood. “Duty,” she thought, “is always -difficult; ought I not then to choose the hardest path of the two before -me, and give up Mark?” In this grave dilemma she turned for advice to an -elderly man on whose judgment she felt reliance. Bravely and truthfully -she stated her case, innocently betraying that ignorance and the wish to -do right were dangerously near carrying her into action that was wrong. -“Let us reverse the position,” said her mentor. “Roger, we shall -suppose, has written to you to come out to India and marry him, the fact -being he has fallen in love with another girl. He did not mean to do -that. His heart slipped away from you to her unconsciously, and he is -shocked, and blames himself, not wholly without cause. But being an -honourable man, he reasons with himself thus: ‘I am bound to keep my -engagement to Mary; I will do so, and strive to make her happy.’ He -meets you then with a lie in his heart, not on his tongue, for he will -say nothing of your rival and of his sacrifice and pain. Would you be -happy, think you? Would you miss nothing? And if later you discovered -the truth, would you feel that the generous action was a just one to -you?” “No, no,” she cried, “I never could wish him to sacrifice his -happiness to mine; I would infinitely rather he told me the truth, and -married the other girl.” “Precisely so,” said her friend, “the truth is -always best; but I see you think Roger is less unselfish than you are! -Is that just to him?” “I hardly know,” she murmured, “men are jealous, -are they not?” “Jealous, ah, well, we men are frail, no doubt! But were -I Roger, I tell you frankly, it would not mend matters to me that I had -won my wife without the priceless jewel of her love. Be true to -yourself, my young friend, that means also justice to him, and fling to -the winds all fears that make you swerve from the path of open -rectitude.” The girl fulfilled her difficult task. She relinquished the -heroic mood, met her first lover with perfect candour, and a short time -later became Mark’s wife. “Roger freed me at once,” she said to her wise -mentor; “he’d rather have my friendship, which is perfectly sincere, -than love with a strain of falseness. Oh, I am glad, and yet I know he -grieves; I would give much to be able to console him!” “Ah,” said her -friend, “beware of sentimentality and self-importance there. Roger’s -consolation will come through his own true heart. In time he will love -again. See to it that you ‘let the dead past bury its dead.’” - -Loyalty to truth is not firmly rooted in humanity, while without truth -as its guiding principle social feeling, constantly rising, overflows -old channels and floods with new dangers the semi-civilization of the -present. There is no escape at this juncture from the absolute necessity -of developing the critical faculty and applying it to the social -questions of the day; in other words, using reason, intelligence, -knowledge, as the guides and controllers of feeling. - -We turn now from personal emotions to an emotion that sways mankind -collectively, and manifests itself in still more direful results than -those of individual jealousy. Patriotism, like jealousy, is of ancient -origin, and at one time possessed social utility. Without it there could -hardly have occurred the transformation of vagrant tribes into massive -communities solidly established on one portion of the earth’s surface -and sectionally swarming to other portions as occasion requires. - -The original element holding a tribe together has been termed by a -recent sociologist “consciousness of kind,” i.e. a feeling not dependent -on intellectual congeniality or emotional sympathy, but simply on -nearness in place, time and blood. With tribal growth cohesion proves -necessary to self-protection from adverse environments, whether of -natural forces, wild animals or human foes. Experience reveals that -union is strength, and hostility to other tribes fosters union in -opposition. The inward attitude becomes complex; it embraces cohesion -and repulsion; it is essentially a _union in enmity_. Now we have seen -how in boyhood an innocent camaraderie or _esprit de corps_ begets -injustice to schoolmasters, and balks the development of the modern -conscience; similarly here there are ethical dangers inseparable from a -sentiment that beginning in “consciousness of kind” expands into -sociality, yet has a converse side of hostility and hate. At the present -day patriotism and international warfare are closely combined. The -student of life who knows that the general trend of evolution is towards -a reign of universal peace, recognizes that although nations have been -consolidated by outward warfare and inward patriotism, this sentiment, -so limited in range and so largely anti-social, can be no virtue for all -time. Patriotism belongs to the militant stage of national history, and -as regards Great Britain it is plainly out of date. Its action is not -good, but evil. - -The war in South Africa begun in 1899 was not caused by racial enmity, -but by mercantile enterprise. Economic forces involved in Great -Britain’s competitive commercial system were the prime factors in its -creation, but without the existence of a vague unintelligent patriotic -sentiment in the country generally the Government would not have been -supported by the people in the prosecution of that war. Our enfranchised -masses, fired by a sudden enthusiasm and racked by sympathy in the brave -deeds and cruel sufferings of our soldiers and sailors, saw the -phantasmagoria of modern warfare in false colours. Imagination was -grasped and controlled by a press working—though half-unconsciously—in -the interests of a special mercantile class; and while tender emotions -overflowed in generous help to one’s own kind, a sympathy stimulated by -public laudation, the reverse side of the picture was ignored. But in -this, as in all wars, sympathy had its counterpoise in antagonism and -rancorous enmity. All the brutal instincts latent in a race that had -fought its way to supremacy among European Powers were roused afresh and -stirred into fatal activity, and the evolving modern conscience and -sentiments of justice, honour, truth towards all men, were checked and -overborne by a loyalty that condones the fierce primitive passions. -Hatred and uncharitableness were even voiced from some pulpits, and the -term Pro-Boer was opprobriously launched at those lovers of peace who -tried to defend their country’s foes from exaggerated blame. It was -skilfully handled to promote militant enthusiasm, and discountenance all -criticism of militant action and feeling. - -On the emotional side of human nature inimical effects of warfare were -wholly disregarded, and opinions on the subject of war given forth by a -so-called educated class of men and eagerly imbibed by an ignorant -public were confused, often false and shamefully misleading. One of -these pseudo-teachers alleged that the wars of past times indicated -chronic disease, but militarism in the present was useful, because in -the home-life of the nation the restraints of authority are becoming -weak (Capt. Mahan). And an eminent statesman announced his impression -that the South African war was “designed to build up those moral -qualities which are after all the only solid and the only permanent -foundation on which any empire can be built”! (Mr. Balfour’s speech at -Manchester; _Scotsman’s_ Report, January 9, 1900.) - -But the true method of judging an event is to exercise comparison, -taking into account a far greater mass of social phenomena than that of -the immediate present. Now the careful study of past history has proved -that an outbreak of militant fraternity, combined with indulgence in the -principle of enmity, leaves a society less fraternal than before in -regard to the labours of peace and of building up; and against the claim -that military training is a good preparation for civic life there lies -the whole testimony of civilization. Further, the survival of militancy -frustrates the solving of our great social problems, and the recent -relapse to the militarist ideal is a grave hindrance to that social -science which would provide the true ways of humanizing defective types. -(I refer my reader for a fuller statement on these lines to Mr. J. M. -Robertson’s _Patriotism and Empire_.) “After Waterloo,” says Mr. -Robertson, “it seems to have been realized by the intelligence of Europe -that militarism and imperialism had alike pierced the hands that leant -on them.” Nevertheless, they reappeared, as we know, galvanized into -fatal activity in human affairs, at the close of the nineteenth century. - -Again, the action of international capitalism and the ideal of -imperialism have been analysed from the standpoint of social philosophy -by Mr. J. A. Hobson, an advanced and logical thinker on economic -questions. His conclusion is that the driving forces of aggressive -imperialism are the organized influences of certain professional and -commercial classes which have definite economic advantages to gain by -assuming a spurious patriotism, and the most potent of all these -influences emanates from the financier. The power of financiers, exerted -directly upon politicians and indirectly through the press upon public -opinion, is, perhaps, so says Mr. Hobson, the most serious problem in -public life to-day.[5] - -Footnote 5: - - The _Contemporary Review_ of January, 1900. - -It is not by sanguinary conflicts in which victory turns on superior -numbers, superior arms, and superior cunning in military tactics, that a -nation’s greatness is built up at this period of the world’s history. -What progress demands is not more of national wealth and international -power; it is a better system of industrial life and a finer type of -humanity—men and women of clear intellectual insight, high moral -courage, unselfish instincts and humane sentiments guiltless of narrow -exclusiveness. These men and women, discerning ideally the best methods -of building up a nation’s greatness _on the happiness of its people_, -will aid our half-civilized races to embody that ideal on the physical -plane, and to educate their children to live up to it and show forth all -its beauty. - -In the mental basis of a high spiritual life even now our children are a -reproach, for here and there they emit sparks indicative of embryonic -sentiment in advance of practice around them. At the height of the Boer -War a child in his nursery on being told that his nurse was opening a -tin of boar’s head for breakfast, exclaimed, every feature quivering -with sudden disgust, “Catch me eat my enemy’s head.” - -When a nation repudiates with similar disgust that wholesale destruction -of life, which is no whit less evil than the cannibalism of an earlier -date, then will war and patriotism cease to be—their place taken by a -civilization standing firm on the foundation of human happiness and -love. - -Given such outward conditions of life as are favourable to a freer -exercise of the noblest social attributes and impulses of man, and the -ethical temper will prevail. By ethical temper I mean not only the -absence of all animosities that engender conflict, but the presence of a -strong sense of personal rights and an equally strong protectiveness -over the rights of others—a national impulse, in short, to an -equivalence of liberty and social comfort for all mankind. But this -justice is a supremely complex emotion—the one of all others that -demands most of human capacity. It rests upon mental development, i.e. a -universal enlargement of mind. - -Industrial changes there must be, but these alone will not secure -progress; we need _true education_, for in the deeper strata of -existence—the region of feeling, the movements of change must be guided -from the old order to the new. Hence the vital importance of moral -education—an education that will create an intelligent appreciation of -truth wherever presented, and bind all men together in loyalty to truth. - - - - - _PART V_ - EDUCATION - OR - DIRECT TRAINING OF CHILDHOOD TO THE CIVILIZED HABIT OF MIND - - We acquire the virtues by doing the acts. - We become builders by building. - ARISTOTLE. - - - - - EDUCATION - - Next in importance to the inborn nature is the acquired nature which a - person owes to his education and training; not alone to the education - which is called learning, but to that development of character which - has been evoked by the conditions of life.—Dr. H. MAUDSLEY. - - -We are beginning to realize the responsibilities that rest on each -generation of adults in respect of the life evolving around us. It is -not merely the structure and texture of civilization that is affected by -every passing generation, it is the intrinsic quality of the human life -to follow. - -We have seen how the laws of heredity largely decide the physical -embodiment of the coming lives as a resultant of the reproductive action -of parents whether motived by ethical principle or by unrestrained -animal passion. We have now to consider the second great human factor in -man’s evolution, viz. nurture or education, which depends in its highest -terms upon sound knowledge and the application of that knowledge by men -and women of the period. In an advanced scientific age, the reproductive -forces of man will be socially controlled and guided to the creation of -normal, i.e. healthy, physical life; while the whole apparatus of -nurture, or the entire range of influence, playing upon childhood, will -manifest a rational adaptation of means to a special end, namely, the -elevation of humanity. - -Adaptation necessarily becomes more difficult with the growing -complexities of evolving humanity, but never has man’s intellect been -stronger than to-day to grapple with difficult problems, or so furnished -with the facts required in dealing with this problem of education. - -The marvellous scientific discoveries of the nineteenth century and the -practical uses to which these discoveries are put, have created in man a -new attitude towards external nature. All Western nations partake of the -scientific bent. They are interpenetrated by reverence for science, and -are conscious that its method of close observation and study of nature -is the direct road to material progress. This bent is influencing school -education. There are few thoughtful teachers to-day who do not recognize -that some hours spent at intervals in country lanes and fields, on the -sea-shore, or in a farm-yard, with children free to observe according to -native impulse, when followed by careful instruction concerning the -objects observed, are of far more value than weeks of book-learning -indoors. - -In many parts of America “nature-studies” on this plan are worked into -the public school curriculum.[6] But adaptation implies also a fuller -knowledge of the rudimentary faculties which are to be scientifically -nurtured, and here again America has taken the lead. In its -“child-study” movement, now spreading in this country, an effort is made -to apprehend nature’s processes in unfolding mental powers; and the -inference is that teachers may thwart progress by traversing the true -order of mental development. This clearly indicates the entrance of a -scientific spirit into the field of education. It shows regard for the -order of nature, willingness to be guided by knowledge of that order, -and a conviction that the laws of a child’s inner being must be -respected and no arbitrary compulsion exercised in bringing him into -harmony with the laws of the environment. - -Footnote 6: - - The schools of to-day are made more and more into miniature worlds - where children are taught how to live. The actual industries of the - world as well as its art galleries, museums and parks are being - utilized as part of public school equipment. The children are taken to - the shops, the markets, the gardens, etc. _The New Spirit of - Education_, by Arthur Henry, _Munsey’s Magazine_, 1902. - -A child’s capacities, however, are not centred in his intellect. On the -passional side of his being, his spontaneous impulses of desire, fear, -joy, grief, love, hatred, jealousy, etc., have to be studied, and -educative forces found for their guidance and control. Moreover, the -ultimate aim is not his subjection to fixed rules of life, but the -establishment within the heart of the child of a supreme rule over all -his passions. And again, every child has characteristics indicative of -the course of development undergone by the special race to which he -belongs. The geographical position and primitive industry of that race, -its conquests and failures in struggling upwards from savagery to a -measure of civilization—all have left an impress in specific effects. - -In respect of our formal methods of giving instruction there is much -that is open to discussion; but the points usually raised are the best -means of teaching grammar, history, geography, arithmetic, and so forth, -not the far more important question of how best to achieve an all-round -development in face of the organic unity and marvellous multiplicity of -qualities in the child of a civilized race. Great improvement has taken -place in every branch of school teaching both as regards the knowledge -of teachers and the methods they adopt in imparting the knowledge; -nevertheless, these improvements are minor matters as compared with the -general question before us. - -During the rise and progress of our industrial system based on -individualism, the constant fluctuations of trade, the competing of -machinery against human labour, the perpetual danger of getting thrown -out of work, the utter failure of thrift as any protection from -intermittent poverty—have been factors eminently calculated to produce a -highly nervous type of humanity. Children of that type may happily prove -bright and eager amid wretched surroundings, but it were folly to expect -them to show any impulse towards a high standard of living, any outlook -beyond the immediate present, or any inherent check upon action socially -immoral. - -On the other hand, our city workers have sprung mainly from an -agricultural class whose scattered families presented the defects of a -low order of life reared in isolation. Many of these defects have been -counteracted by segregation within towns, however unfavourable in other -directions that may have proved. The close proximity of beings affected -by the same fateful conditions, the actual sorrowing and rejoicing -together have expanded the emotional nature and engendered true -sympathy. Professor Huxley once said, “It is futile to expect a hungry -and squalid population to be anything but violent and gross.” Yet we -have an immense population of workers, often hungry, and at all times -environed more or less by squalor, whose average character is not -violent and gross, but distinctly humane. - -Turning from the masses to the classes we find some points of difference -between the rich and the poor, viz. differences following from the -diverse industrial conditions. Leisure, as commanded by the rich, has -made mental development possible wherever desire prompted intellectual -effort, and the magnificent record of last century’s achievements in -discovery of truth, acquisition of knowledge, and promotion of artistic -skill, is a gain to the world at large—a gain made possible by -accumulation of wealth unequally distributed. But intellectual faculty -has frequently been depraved through its devotion to wealth production. -The true aims of life are lost sight of by chiefs of industry whose -emotional nature has hardened under the daily spectacle of struggling -fellow-beings, on whose labour their fortunes are built up. The dignity -of useful labour has had no vogue in general education. An opposite -principle—that the highest dignity consists in being served by others -and in possessing the means of constraining and exploiting the labour of -others, is impressed on the children of our classes by the whole play of -circumstance around them. The property-sense has become unduly -developed, and a selfish mammon-worship holds the place which an -altruistic public spirit ought to hold in the inner life of a civilized -people. It is true that a showy charity—a patronage by the rich of the -poor—is everywhere present throughout society, but that which creates -and supports it is a sentiment wholly different from the simple kindness -of the poor to the poor. It is without the essential features of that -charity that “vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, seeketh not her -own ... thinketh no evil.” - -Now the scientific spirit of to-day, in observing the uncontrolled play -of middle-class children, has discovered how great is their interest and -joy in the spontaneous exercise of the faculty of make-believe. Costly -toys will readily be thrown aside to take part in a game of “pretended” -housekeeping or shopkeeping, or acting the part of father, mother, -nursemaid, or cook. And herein there lies, says one of our advanced -teachers, “a powerful hint how to keep children’s attention alive while -cultivating to the utmost their imaginative, observing, constructive and -correlating faculties. We must dramatize our school education and -connect school ideally with real life.” (Mr. Howard Swan; his -introductory lecture at the opening of Bedford Park School.) - -But the “powerful hint” goes deeper. It points to an instinct or a -deeply implanted desire and capacity for actual work on the part of -children of a practical race. To play at work is pleasurable, to do work -more pleasurable still. Yet in blindness to the fact that in drawing out -into action every rudimentary faculty favourable to happy life lies the -true path of education or an all-round development, society has shut off -middle and upper-class children from the sight and hearing of household -labour. In nurseries, amid artificial toys, their daily routine is to -seek amusement self-centred; and as in these days of small rather than -large families, nursery children are often solitary, there is a -systematic repression both of natural activities and infolded natural -emotions. The same repressions are carried forward into school life. -Dramatized teaching may connect school ideally with real life, but it -cannot satisfy a child’s cravings for the real, and the companionship of -children of similar age will never call out the complex forces of a -many-sided emotional nature. It is not playing at life that is required -for education, it is the sharing of life’s duties of service, and -constant opportunity given for the practice of varied humanities. - -The children of our superior workers may perchance fare better if the -mother is a capable woman, and the home not overcrowded. The lighter -parts of her work are shared by the little ones, and to help mother in -sweeping and dusting, washing cups and saucers, and placing them neatly -in the cupboard, etc., are not only interesting and useful occupations, -they are educative, for they imply a simultaneous training of the eye, -the fingers, the mental faculties and the heart. But overcrowding, the -miserable housing of the poor, and the early age at which infant -school-life begins, makes such home-training difficult even to the best -of mothers, while to the upper classes—frost-bound in artificial -domestic customs, all home-training seems impossible. - -Nothing, however, should deter a student of evolution from proclaiming -that the home-life of our people will largely decide the nation’s -future. Unless the great problem of the housing of the poor is rightly -solved, and unless educated women become roused to the necessity of a -changed home-life in the interests of their children, and set themselves -voluntarily to the task of domestic reform within their own circle, the -social state can never be greatly improved. - -All children born in a civilized nation have a right to education. That -this principle has been fully acknowledged is evidenced by our -Educational Acts and the innumerable Board Schools that stud the -country. But as long as population among the masses rises without check, -the highest aim of education, viz. the development and elevation of -individual character must, as regards their children, remain in -abeyance. The only practicable line of action is to gather them together -into large schools, and while bestowing general instruction in reading, -writing, arithmetic, etc., to subject them to some hours of systematic -guidance and control. This signifies obedience to rule and order—a -useful discipline to juveniles of Bohemian nature, and it is the only -method of restraining tendencies to licence, without rousing a spirit of -revolt. Fresh air, wholesome food, ample bathing, and the play of -sunlight and colour upon nerves of sensation—these stimulate bodily -health, while music, and the personal influence of high-minded teachers, -throw into vibration finer nerves of sensibility, and elevate the mental -and moral tone. But beyond this point, large schools are incapable of -scientific adaptation to the needs of a modern education in a rapidly -socializing community. - -It was in the year 1837 that there issued from the press a work on -education written by Isaac Taylor, who there lays down this proposition: -“If large schools were granted to be generally better adapted to the -practical ends of education than private instruction, the welfare of -society on the whole demands also the other method. The school-bred man -is of one sort, the home-bred man of another—the community has need of -both. Hence no tyranny of fashion is more to be resisted than such as -would render a public education compulsory and universal.”[7] -Notwithstanding this warning, the tyranny of fashion is carrying us -yearly more and more into the production of school-bred women, as well -as school-bred men. Our girls’ high schools are replicas of our boys’ -public schools, and society suffers still more from the loss of the -home-bred woman than the home-bred man. - -Footnote 7: - - _Home Education_, p. 22. - -Again, the late Professor D’Arcy W. Thompson, in his charmingly-written -_Day-dreams of a Schoolmaster_, gives us the fruits of a ripe experience -gained during twelve years of boyhood in a large public school, and many -years of manhood as teacher of classics in schools and university. His -boyhood, he tells us, was dreary because of the monotonous routine. He -was “fed on dull books, and the manuals were in many cases mere tramways -to pedantry. His mental training was a continuous sensation of -obstruction and pain. His spiritual parts were furrowed.” (Observe, -there were no nature-studies at that period.) The incitement to effort -was the cane or the tawse, and flogging, he believes, never instils -courage, it has transformed many a boy into a sneak. “Let us discard -punishment,” says the Professor, “and endeavour to make our pupils -_love_ work.” The whole educational system in his day was mechanical and -artificial, yet when he strove to initiate new methods the boys were -withdrawn from his charge. Parents understood little of true education. -They were slaves to custom. “How is it,” he asks, “that fathers with a -personal experience like my own send their boys to school?” He answers: -“They say to themselves, ‘Depend upon it if there were no virtue in -birching and caning, in Latin verses and Greek what-you-may-call-’ems, -they would not have held their ground so long amongst a practical people -like ourselves!’ So Johnnie is sent to the town grammar school and the -great time-honoured gerund-stone turns as before, and will turn to the -last syllable of recorded time.” For the gerund-stone he would -substitute an easy _vivâ voce_ conversational method of instruction in -all elementary classes, and throughout the school; for coercion, the -more than hydraulic pressure of a persistent, continuous gentleness. - -Thirty years before the _Day-dreams_ was published, one writer at least -was open-eyed to the defects of school education. He charged parents -with adopting the new boarding-school system because it spared them some -responsibility, and children were apt to be teasing and importunate. -“Boys advance at school quickly,” he said, “in knowledge of the -auxiliary verbs, the mysteries of syntax and the stories of gods and -goddesses; but I am confident that the reason why women generally are so -much better disposed than men is this: they live domestically and -familiarly. They are penetrated with the home-spirit, they are imbued -with all its influences, their memory is not fed to plethora while the -heart is left to waste and perish. No daughter of mine shall ever be -sent to school; at home the heart, wherein are the issues of all good, -develops itself from day to day. There children ripen in their -affections. There they learn their humanities, not in the academic -sense, but in the natural and true one.”[8] - -Footnote 8: - - _Self-Formation_, by Capel Lofft, vol. 1, p. 42. - -Where, alas! do we find to-day the daughters of the classes who are not -sent to school? Our girls’ high schools overflow; and that, not by the -action of State control, but by the voluntarily assumed yoke and tyranny -of fashion. Girls emerging from these schools are not “so much better -disposed than men.” They are certainly not domesticated and imbued with -a home-spirit. They may have gained in refinement—even to -fastidiousness! and in the knowledge of Latin and Greek, or what is -called the higher culture, but they are characterized generally by a -spirit of pleasure-seeking. They become, in many cases, what has aptly -been called “nonsense women, prepared only to lead butterfly lives.” - -Now, parents who shirk the responsibility and effort entailed in shaping -their children’s characters to the best of their ability can only expect -their own self-indulgence to become intensified in the lives of their -children. Let me not, however, be here misunderstood. The movement for -the higher education of women is a step forward in civilization. Many -women are born with great mental capacity, and without the specific -intellectual culture now obtainable the world would lose much, while the -nonexercise of such native powers creates inward misery. But culture, -according to Matthew Arnold, implies the study of perfection, and the -late Professor Huxley’s ideal is expressed as follows:—“That man has had -a liberal education who has been so trained in youth that his body is -the ready servant of his will, and does with ease and pleasure all the -work that as a mechanism it is capable of; whose intellect is clear, -with all its parts of equal strength and in smooth working order; whose -mind is stored with a knowledge of the great and fundamental truths of -Nature and of the laws of her operations; one who—no stunted ascetic—is -full of life and fire, but whose passions are trained to come to heel by -a vigorous will, the servant of a tender conscience; who has learnt to -love all beauty, to hate all vileness, and to respect others as himself. -Such an one and no other has had a liberal education, for he is as -completely as man can be in harmony with nature.” (An Address at South -London Working Men’s College, January, 1869.) - -Childhood is characterized by sensational activity. The reflective and -reasoning powers lie comparatively dormant. Mobile sensibility is the -distinguishing feature of childhood, and parents and teachers taking -advantage of the law of nature whereby pleasurable sensation stimulates -growth should train children step by step to the enjoyment of _useful_ -activities, to physical and manual dexterity; to simple efforts in -pursuit of knowledge; to infantile firmness in discharge of duty; to -unconstrained dignity in defence of the right, and sympathetic jealousy -over the rights of others; to gentleness towards all mankind; to -admiration of all that is noble in character, to veneration of age, -experience and virtue; and to the love of truth and justice and personal -devotion to both. These are the qualities of human nature that make for -real civilization; and further progress requires their steady -development in the race. - -Now, these qualities cannot be evoked by school methods nor even by the -easy _vivâ voce_ conversational instruction proposed by Professor -Thompson. An indispensable factor in the process is a rich, full, -domestic environment, an atmosphere suffused with affection and -vibrating with varied activities—_a home-life_, in short, where the -delicate qualities of noble character will not be commanded to come -forth, but will come of themselves through the play of circumstance, -i.e. by the action of example and gentle sympathetic co-operation. - -In upper-class houses, even where wealth and luxury abound, there are -none of the diverse and liberal domestic surroundings conducive to early -training. The first essential is that the nurseries be freed from all -physical, mental and moral forces that belong to a comparatively -primitive stage of evolution. Nurses drawn from the masses—however -carefully selected—are incompetent by nurture for training infants in -the best way. The authority they have known has been archaic, and -elements of barbarism have been near them from babyhood, while education -as yet has done little to raise their intelligence to the plane of -civilized thought. Hence an ordinary nurse, of kindly and affectionate -disposition, may seriously misdirect the budding conscience of a babe, -as I have shown in my chapters on Emotional Life. - -To women of great attainments and culture the training of infancy -properly belongs, and that training in the homes of the classes will be -of the highest value to the State. The problem of how to create in -childhood a ready obedience to authority without jarring the nerves, or -checking freedom unnecessarily, is a very difficult one. It requires a -cultured intelligence to grasp the problem and carry out the true method -of its solution. The aim in the training of infancy is to develop -superior types of men and women by evoking the higher qualities of human -nature _in a sphere of comparative liberty_. A babe in the nursery, let -us say, has had his attention caught by the flames leaping up in the -well-guarded grate. He creeps towards them and pushes his fingers -through the wires of the guard. The educated nurse gently lifts him to a -safe distance, but he starts creeping again to the fire. Now there are -in the nursery some baskets of different size and depth, all softly -lined and weighted. Baby is put into one of these to amuse himself with -a toy until the fascinating flames are forgotten. - -An older child flings her ball in another child’s face. Nurse tells her -the ball might hurt, but on persistence in the selfish amusement she, -too, is firmly placed in a larger basket or nursery prison, and must -stay there till the impulse to be disobedient has passed off; for the -principle which guides nurse in the training of these infants is this: -liberty abused must be abridged. - -After a few such experiences the little ones feel that a network is -around them—a network of authority never physically painful and that has -no connection with anger. - -As the reasoning powers develop they feel that liberty is theirs in the -straight course of obedience to authority, and later they find that this -authority represents a knowledge of the laws of nature, for when in -garden and field they join in the nature-study lessons, they discover -that if plants creep into unfavourable conditions, they languish; if -animals run counter to laws of health, they suffer and die. - -From nursery to home-training the infants pass forward. Their nerves -have never been irritated by harshness, nor their affections repressed, -and their impulses to unhurtful activities are of normal strength. In -the more advanced training now given, the aim is no longer to impress -automatically, but rationally to guide the growing intelligence. Blind -obedience is not required, but every command is explained and related to -the facts of happy and healthful life. At this point a discriminating -judgment is profoundly necessary, and the child should be studied -individually, for to each there comes the right moment when self-rule is -possible, and unless outward restraints are wisely withdrawn that power -of self-rule may be injured. - -The human types to be desired are not slavish, but independent beings, -capable of noble service to God and man; and choosing to do right -because they know true happiness lies that way. - -At sixteen or upwards the young thus trained may safely leave home for -high school or university, in pursuit of the special instruction -required for their future career. An education that has laid the -foundation of noble character, comes to no abrupt conclusion. The love -of truth when firmly implanted prompts to the acquisition of new -knowledge, and knowledge is boundless as the universe. Fields of science -become the happy hunting-ground of minds that are markedly intellectual, -and although self-culture supersedes formal instruction, and original -research supersedes the following of authority, education moves -continuously and steadily forward. - -“The environment,” says Clifford Harrison, “that lies open to men -rationally developed is as vast as the ideal that lies before them. This -environment is not a spiritual matter merely; not of the soul alone, but -of body, mind, soul and spirit; not of heaven only, but of earth as -well; not of eternity and a beyond, but of time and here.” - - - - - _PART VI_ - CONDITIONS IN AID OF HAPPY LIFE IN A DEVELOPING CIVILIZATION - - - - - CHAPTER I - THE NEEDS OF ADOLESCENCE - - The woman’s cause is man’s: they rise or sink - Together, dwarf’d, or godlike, bond or free: - - · · · · · - - If she be small, slight-natured, miserable, - How shall men grow? - —TENNYSON. - - -Adolescence is a critical period in the life of an individual. At that -period, character, speaking generally, fully manifests, and the life is -decided for good or evil. What advanced ethics requires is that each -adult generation should deliberately examine its inheritance from the -previous, less conscious, less informed epoch, in order to detect and -destroy every social snare that entangles unwary feet in adolescence; -and to devise the best methods of bringing to the young the wisdom and -sympathy of their seniors. - -In the autobiography of the late Anthony Trollope (vol. 1, p. 69), some -facts of his own adolescence are stated in a spirit as generous as it is -candid. His fate, like that of thousands of young men in his day, and in -the present day, was to live at that critical time in a town, surrounded -by all the attractions that a keen competitive commercialism has created -to supplement profits—though at the expense of young men’s money and -morals—and with no private retreat save a solitary lodging, a shelter, -but in no sense a home. “No allurement to decent respectability,” he -says, “came in my way.” For the spending of his evenings, the choice lay -between what he calls “questionable resorts” and sitting alone reading -or drinking tea. “There was no house in which I could habitually see a -lady’s face and hear a lady’s voice, and in these circumstances the -temptations of loose life will almost certainly prevail with a young -man; at any rate they prevailed with me.”[9] Similar evidence may be -found in a realistic, powerful novel, _Jude the Obscure_. Mr. Thomas -Hardy there depicts the tragedy of unfulfilled aims, the shipwreck of -what might have been a noble life; and the cause of shipwreck is pointed -out in the words of the dying Jude: “My impulses and affections were too -strong ... a man without advantages should be as cold-blooded as a fish -and as selfish as a pig to have a really good chance of being one of his -country’s worthies.” Now, affection and the impulse to love purely can -never be too strong for the interests of general evolution, therefore we -are entitled to assume that the environment is at fault. The fact that -thousands of young men deprived of healthy home-life succumb to the -temptations of city-life, condemns our industrial competition. Public -consciousness has not grasped the needs and dangers of adolescence, and -the slowly evolving community-conscience disregards the terrible penalty -paid in general degradation for retaining a system of industry that -produces among other evils “questionable resorts where young men see -life in false, delusive colours.” These and all other injurious outcomes -of our tragic struggle for the necessaries and amenities of life, will -persist until the individualistic system of industry disappears, i.e. is -superseded by a rational collectivist system. Standing as we do on the -verge of conscious evolution, that time is not yet, but something may be -done by parents and guardians of youth to counteract the evils of a -transitional epoch. - -Footnote 9: - - More recently still the world has been afforded a glance into the - inner history of a life destined to noble uses and high achievements. - In the meridian of his fame Professor Huxley wrote thus to Charles - Kingsley: “Kicked into the world a boy without guide or training, or - with worse than none, I confess to my shame that few men have drunk - deeper of all kinds of sin than I. Happily my course was arrested in - time—before I had earned absolute destruction—and for long years I - have been slowly and painfully climbing, with many a fall, towards - better things.”—_Life of Professor Huxley_, vol. 1, p. 220. - -Progress in an evolving society largely depends upon true union, i.e. -mental, emotional and spiritual union of the sexes. But a careful -examination of the prominent movements in society, and especially the -various divisions of the woman’s emancipation movement, reveals that all -are defective through inattention to this fundamental need. They do not -aim at social conditions in which solidarity of heart and soul will -naturally ensue. - -The woman movement is the issue in great measure of pent-up forces of -youth in the female sex of the upper classes. It is less the revolt of -labour against poverty, injustice, and overtaxed strength, than a revolt -from enforced idleness on the part of the victims of wealth. The -position is graphically put before us by the late Charles Reade in his -amusing tale _The Woman Hater_. - -Fanny Dover, a common enough type of upper-class femininity, appears to -the woman-hater a mere shallow-minded, selfish coquette, till suddenly -at an unexpected emergency she assumes new and very different colours. -“How is this?” he exclaims. “You were always a bright girl and no fool, -but not exactly what humdrum people call good ... you are not offended?” -“The idea,” says Fanny, “why I have publicly denounced goodness again -and again.” “Yes, and yet you turn out as good as gold!... I have -watched you; you are all over the house to serve two suffering women. -You are cook, housemaid, nurse and friend to both of them. In an -interval of your time so creditably employed you cheer me up with your -bright little face and give me wise advice! Explain the phenomenon.” “My -dear Harrington, if you cannot read so shallow a character as I am, how -will you get on with those ladies upstairs ... but there, I will have -pity on you. You shall understand one woman before you die ... give me a -cigarette.... What women love and can’t do without if they are young and -spirited, is excitement. I am one who pines for it. Society is so -constructed that to get excitement you must be naughty. Waltzing ... -flirting, etc., are excitement, ... dining _en famille_, going to bed at -ten, etc., are stagnation; good girls mean stagnant girls; I hate and -despise these tame little wretches; I never was one and never will be. -But look here, we have two ladies in love with one villain—that is -exciting. One gets nearly killed in the house—that is gloriously -exciting; the other is broken-hearted. If I were to be a bad girl and -say: ‘It is not my business; I will leave them to themselves and go my -little mill-round of selfishness as before, why what a fool I must be! I -should lose excitement. Instead of that I run and get things for the -Klosking—excitement. I cook for her and nurse her and sit up half the -night—excitement. Then I run to Zoe and do my best for her or get -snubbed—excitement. Then I sit at the head of your table and order -you—excitement. Oh! it is lovely.’ ‘Shall you be sorry when they both -get well and routine re-commences?’ Of course I shall; that is the sort -of good girl I am.” - -This youthful exuberance or restlessness is favourable to social -advance, and the woman movement has accomplished good service in -claiming and turning it to useful account. But here, as in all partial -reforms, new evils dog the footsteps of the new good effected. To-day we -have numerous city workers of the female as well as the male sex, -compelled by the exigencies of their labour to live far apart from their -nearest and dearest, in solitary lodgings like Anthony Trollope, or at -best in the make-believe homes limited to inmates of one sex. I do not -infer that these girls fall under any special temptations to licence, -but, deprived as they are of the immediate influences of early -associations and the subtle tendernesses of home-life, I hold it -impossible that their emotional human nature should not suffer loss. -Their need for the happy and useful exercise of activities which were -running into mischievous courses, is satisfactorily met, but at the -expense of domestic traits, and these are precisely what lie at the root -of human fellowship—that union of heart and soul which is indispensable -to true progress. - -Some social reformers regard the higher education of women movement as a -potent factor in uniting men and women through the mutual interests of -cultured thought. A knowledge, however, of Greek, Latin, the classics, -etc., accomplishes little so long as the sexes are not educated -together, and this form of culture has no _direct_ bearing on elevation -of character and development of the emotional side of human nature. -Cricket, golf, and all our fashionable out-door sports have done more, -in creating mutual interests and furthering progress by securing for -girls greater social freedom than was previously theirs, and Mr. H. W. -Massingham spoke truly when he said: “No special complications have -followed in any marked degree the vast extension that has taken place in -the field of girls’ free companionship with men. Yet what would our -fathers have thought of it?”[10] But sports are for the hours of -leisure, and ample leisure belongs only to the idle or to a minor -section of female workers. Meanwhile we have thousands of young women, -of different calibre to Fanny Dover, whose noblest attribute, viz. their -innate capacity for all the finer vibrations of social feeling, is never -called into play. - -Footnote 10: - - _Ethical World_, June, 1900. - -Amid all the kaleidoscopic scenes of our transition period, a new figure -of womanhood has undoubtedly appeared—a type not characterized by -frivolity or love of excitement, but by strenuousness, sincerity, -refinement, moral courage, a will-force in short, that breaking through -selfish limitations seeks nobler spheres of action. This will-force is -subject to constant recoil. It is thrown back on itself by adverse -conditions of society, of industry, of private individual life. - -In _Jude the Obscure_ this new type of woman is skilfully sketched. -Susan Bridehead is a creature of high aspiration, rich inward resources -and manifold imperfections. She has foibles and feminine vanities, but -the human nature is essentially large-minded, generous, truthful. “I did -not flirt,” she says to Jude, “but a craving to attract and captivate, -regardless of the injury it might do, was in me ... my liking for you is -not as some women’s perhaps, but it is a delight in being with you of a -supremely delicate kind ... I did want and long to ennoble some man to -high aims.” Here we have love transferred from the lower reaches of pure -sensation to a higher level of tender sentiment, and energized from the -intellectual plane. This denotes a slow evolution of ages during which -all the grossness, i.e. the coarser vibrations of primitive love, are -transmuted into the finer vibrations of sympathetic, altruistic feeling. - -It is important to see clearly the distinction between primitive and -modern love, in order that no confusion may arise in contemplating the -ideal social life that scientific meliorism forecasts. The intrinsic -quality of primitive love is illustrated in Mrs. Bishop’s description of -her favourite horse’s attachment. “I am to him an embodiment of melons, -cucumbers, grapes, pears, peaches, biscuits and sugar, with a good deal -of petting and ear-rubbing thrown in!” Human attachments based on these -pleasurable sensations or simple animal appetites and passions, form the -main soldering ingredients in humanity’s mass; but love’s development -has marched concurrently with true civilization, and to men and women in -the van of civilization one chief cause of misery to-day is repression -of the normal, healthy impulse to pure and unselfish love. - -_Unselfishness_ is the distinguishing feature of higher forms of love, -and an unselfishness that had its origin not in conjugal union but in -motherhood. Mr. Finck, in his study of love’s evolution, puts it thus: -“The helpless infant could not survive without a mother’s -self-sacrificing care, hence there was an important use for womanly -sympathy which caused it to survive and grow while man immersed in wars -and struggles remained hard of heart and knew not tenderness.... -Selfishness in a man is perhaps less offensive because competition and -the struggle for existence necessarily foster it.” (Henry Finck’s -_Primitive Love_, pp. 160–161.) The social need for a specialized -unselfishness has tended to differentiate the sexes emotionally, and in -process of building up the entire structure of social life the pressure -of outward forces has carried this differentiation further. I am not -then traversing the natural laws of evolution when I assume that all -questions relating to women are at this date pre-eminently important. - -The population problem, as I have shown, can only be solved through a -diminution of the birth-rate, and throughout the British nation the -family group is breaking up. It is disintegrating especially in the -upper and middle classes. - -The movement towards industrial socialism is the outcome of masculine -thought and energy. Man is its mainspring, although many thoughtful -women take part in it. Conversely, the house-ruler, woman, must be the -mainspring of a movement towards domestic socialism, although no success -will accrue without the steadfast aid and co-operation of man. That some -women are already fitted to begin this great work is evident from much -of our female public service. Let me quote some words recently spoken of -lady-workers by a male critic, Mr. H. W. Massingham: “They have moral -courage and refinement. They do not tire more easily than men; they do -not shirk the detail work; they take to drudgery.” Pioneers of the new -movement must be religious in the best sense, i.e. their philosophy must -bring into touch the worlds seen and unseen, inspiring action conducive -to personal and universal happiness. - -The task before them is of double intent, viz. of immediate utility and -of far-reaching benefit. It will attract inferior natures as well as the -superior, for a well-organized modern home will present more -convenience, comforts and embellishments than the family homes of the -past or present, and at smaller expense. Herein a certain danger lurks. -Pioneers will have to guard against dropping out of the enterprise its -supreme purpose and main evolutional value, viz. the raising humanity on -to higher levels of happiness. There is no other policy to this end than -that of domestically uniting the sexes from infancy, in order that in -the idealistic period of adolescence soul may meet soul with fearless -unreserve and young men and women realize by experience that in the pure -realms of thought and feeling the closest union is possible. It is this -union manifesting in dual sympathy that will become the liberating force -of the world, and in it and through it woman’s emancipation will be -complete. - - Woman is not undevelopt man - But diverse ... - Yet in the long years liker must they grow; - The man be more of woman, she of man; - He gain in sweetness and in moral height, - She mental breadth, nor fail in child-ward care - Till at the last she set herself to man, - Like perfect music unto noble words; - And so these twain upon the skirts of time, - Sit side by side ... - Dispensing harvest, sowing the To-be, - Self-reverent each and reverencing each - Distinct in individualities, - But like each other ev’n as those who love. - Then comes the statelier Eden back to men; - - · · · · · - - Then springs the crowning race of humankind, - May these things be! - _The Princess._—TENNYSON. - - - - - CHAPTER II - DOMESTIC REFORM - - The animating spring of all improvement in individuals and in - societies is not the knowledge of the actual but the conception of the - possible.—H. MARTINEAU. - - How shall the new era be inaugurated? By ceasing to strive for self - and family; by thinking of both only as instruments of the common - weal.—PROF. A. W. BICKERTON. - - -The model family home of the British middle class half a century ago -comprised a father and mother of sound constitution and domestic habits -with a group of children of both sexes—a group large enough to supply -companionship to one another, and a family income sufficient for -comfortable maintenance and recreation, occasional travel and the free -exercise of hospitality. If homes of this type were widely and firmly -established throughout the land they might be competent to breed, -nurture and send forth into the world a good average material of human -life for repairing waste and building up the British nation. But in the -present epoch such homes are exceedingly rare, and the trend of social -forces and modern ideas alike make for their becoming still rarer. - -To speak only of the more obvious factors of change, State action in -reference to the education of the young lifts children of the masses at -almost an infantile age out of the effective control of family life, and -in our centres of national industry economic forces bring about a hasty -pairing and breeding, with an abrupt scattering of the brood that -resembles the nesting of birds rather than the home-making of rational -beings; while so immature are the heads of these evanescent family homes -that the break-up is by no means an unmitigated evil. - -Among the classes, forces of a higher, more penetrative order are -working similarly. Prudence is acting towards the restraint of -population in a manner that narrows the basis of family groups and -shortens the natural term of their existence; and under a new impulse of -right reason and high resolve the educated section of the female sex is -deliberately forsaking the domestic hearth to share the world’s labour -with man. These concurrent movements in society are destroying family -life on the old lines, and by the homes of the present, individual needs -are met only temporarily and provisionally. - -One conspicuous result is an ever-increasing discomfort to the aged. -They are stranded in homes become empty, or wander abroad seeking touch -with their kind. Distinctly are they shunted off the rails of busy life -before a lowered vitality prompts to inertia. The British “Philistine” -lacks sentiment. Old age makes no special appeal to him, and he is -content to bestow on relatives no longer young a brief moment of his -precious time, a fragment of his tenderness. At an earlier stage of our -social evolution the mature in years were centres of a rich, full, -domestic life, and pivots on which turned the wider social life -encircling it. At the present stage of that evolution the young and the -comparatively young focus and absorb the whole sunshine of life, while -the guardians of their infancy pass into declining years enveloped in -gloom. - -This premature effacement entails on society a double loss—first, the -loss interiorly of that individual happiness which intensifies and -raises the tide of life; second, the loss of activities guided by and -based upon _mellow experience_. - -Society is too materialistic to recognize that human beings physically -on the down-grade may be psychically on the up-grade, and pre-eminently -fitted to inspire and promote progress. But in thinking of latent -possibilities realizable in a better environment we are bound not to -judge by average humanity, but by the superior types of the preceding -generation. The old age of W. E. Gladstone, Harriet Martineau, Mary -Somerville, and others was neither gloomy nor unproductive. The -last-mentioned at the age of eighty-one turned her attention to writing -a book on microscopic science. “I seemed,” she says, “to resume the -perseverance and energy of my youth. I began it with courage, though I -did not think I could live to finish it.” She did, however, finish it, -and lived to the age of ninety-two, maintaining at all times her habits -of study and a full social intercourse with many friends. (From -_Personal Recollections_, by her Daughter.) - -It is not intellectual powers only that are running to waste. Under the -double pressure of competition in trade and competition in the labour -market, good manual workers are found ineffective and dismissed at an -earlier age than formerly. - -An immense mass of our industrial population is forced by circumstance -into the workhouse when still comparatively active, and life there is -but a gloomy vacant existence—a complete suppression of the best -faculties of body and mind. - -Comparing the past with the present in respect of the old age of -workers, we are told by Professor Thorold Rodgers that village homes -were centres of multifarious occupations, in which naturally the aged, -if able, would take part. And in towns, although streets were narrow, at -the rear of the houses there were gardens where old and young together -spent the long summer evenings. “Not long ago,” says the American Social -Science Committee Report of 1878, “the farm found constant employment -for the men of the family—the women had abundant employment in the home, -there was carding, spinning, weaving.” “And the neverending labour of -our grandmothers must not be forgotten, who with nimble needle knit our -stockings and mittens. The knitting-needle was in as constant play as -their tongues, whose music only ceased under the power of sleep.... Now -no more does the knitting-needle keep time to the music of their -tongues, for the knitting-machine in the hands of one little girl will -do more work than fifty grandmothers. Labour-saving machinery has broken -up and destroyed our whole system of household and family manufacture, -when all took part in the labour and shared in the product to the -comfort of all.” - -The system that has superseded that of “household and family -manufacture” has been adverse to the aged from the first, and neglect of -old age has become a wrong-doing that eats like a canker into our social -life. - -As Professor Bickerton well remarks: “Unhappiness is the disease of -social life, and misery is an indication that there is something wrong -with our social system. Just as it is unreasonable to expect bodily -health under insanitary conditions, so we cannot look for social concord -and joy unless mankind be placed in circumstances that suit his social -nature. Man has been considered too exclusively as a producing machine -with subsidiary mental capacity, whereas he is essentially a moral being -with deep emotions and universal sympathies. The cure for the -uncleanliness of society is not difficult. The plans for the edifice of -human life are obtainable. What are the plans? Those laws of nature -which are concerned in the development of mankind. What is the cure? -Such understanding of the principles of evolution and such consonant -action as shall restore to the race an environment befitting its -humanity.” (_The Romance of the Earth._) - -Nevertheless, we cannot return to a system of household and family -manufacture. To relinquish mechanical aids to production would be -contrary to, not consonant with, evolution. A civilized race outgrows -its primitive conditions of life and industry—new wine must be put into -new bottles. - -The immediate step of advance as regards manual labour is this—in our -centres of local administration there should be organized municipal -employment with shortened hours for elderly people, the wage to be -supplemented by pensions ample enough to secure for these workers an -honourable social standing instead of a pauper’s dole. But a closer -adaptation to humanity’s needs may be quickly achieved by the classes -where poverty plays a less part in the social phenomena. Of present -conditions Mr. Escott, in his _England, its People, Polity and -Pursuits_, thus speaks: “The nation is only an aggregate of households. -Modern society is possessed by a nomadic spirit which is the sure -destroyer of home ties. The English aristocracy flit from mansion to -mansion during the country-house season; they know no peace during the -London season. Existence for the wealthy is one unending whirl of -excitement, admitting small opportunity for the cultivation of the -domestic affections. The claims of society have continually acquired -precedence of the duties of home.” - -In the middle class, however, wedged in between the rich and the poor, -the greatest factor of change is the servant difficulty, and this -difficulty we must glance at in its causal relations. - -Civilized communities divide broadly into two parts—productive units -whose labour supplies what is needful for existence, and unproductive -units whose existence depends on the labour of others. The latter have -been correctly termed “parasites.” M. Jean Massart explains in his -scientific scrutiny of social phenomena,[11] that during the period of -our industrial development a force of integration has gradually -strengthened the main body of the social organism, giving it power to -resist in some degree the burden of parasitism. Consequently arbitrary -authority and slavish subserviency have abated, and two movements -affecting family life in the middle class are discernible—first, there -is an increasing revolt from domestic service as a form of labour -directly opposed to the spirit of independence that is growing in -workers and to the force of integration which by ranging them shoulder -to shoulder is preparing them for a new form of industrial life; second, -sons of the aristocracy and daughters of the middle class are joining -the ranks of producers with some sense of the dignity of labour and the -degradation of a purely parasitic existence. Social parasitism is not -organic. It is an extraneous condition induced in a society developing -its civilization. No man is necessarily a parasite; he acquires the -character in the course of his life history, and happily the young are -refusing to acquire it. - -Footnote 11: - - _Parasitism, Organic and Social_, p. 121. - -Observe, then, it is not in one or two sections of our community life, -but in all sections that diverse causes are producing one uniform -result—the break-up of the family home; and behind all the more -superficial causes there is working a profound factor of change in the -centripetal or constructive and the centrifugal or destructive forces of -nature. Whilst the latter destroys old forms, the former prepares for -the new form—prepares, not only by an integration of workers, but by a -fresh inspiration of love and desire for work. Hence women and men -endowed with reason, knowledge and practical skill may bring the life of -their own immediate circle into express and positive line with this -constructive, profoundly evolutional, movement. - -Domestic reform implies the relinquishment of that whole system of -household labour that requires the combination of a subject with a -parasitic class. Co-operation among equals takes the place of masterful -authority and slavish subjection, and heavy labour will be relieved by -scientific appliance. Labour-saving contrivances in family homes hardly -exist. There has been little spur to invention on these lines. But, as -in industrial fields, a saving of money, material and labour by the use -of machinery has followed the introduction of organized co-operation, -so, doubtlessly, a similar process will follow the gradual adoption of -organized co-operation within the home. This is not the solution of the -servant problem merely. It has a far wider significance. Many educated -women who are now seeking useful work and economic independence outside -of home-life will find these within the domestic circle, and further -will find that it is possible to combine such necessary conditions of -dignified life with fulfilment of duty alike to the aged and to the -young. - -Pioneers who aim at social solidarity must in practice recognize labour -as the indispensable basis of social life and social institutions. All -methods of wage-payment dependent on industrial competition will be -repudiated for a system that acknowledges every form of useful work as -entitling the worker to financial independence; and in the emotional -sphere, with its possibilities of inner union and solidarity, who can -measure the impetus towards the desired goal that will be given by the -setting of the solitary in families and the re-gathering of the old into -the bosom of a rich, full, domestic life. - -Let us suppose that from fifteen to twenty groups—they may be families -or groups of friends—combine and pass out from their numerous separate -houses into one large commodious dwelling built for them or bought and -adapted to their purpose. The bedrooms are furnished on the continental -plan with accommodation for writing, reading, solitary study, or rest by -day, and all the latest improvements in lighting, heating and -ventilating, etc. By the rules of the house—except for cleaning—no one -enters these rooms uninvited by the inmate, who has there at all times, -if wished, perfect privacy and the most thorough personal comfort. Two -eating apartments are placed contiguous to the kitchens, and by taking -advantage of every invention to facilitate cooking and serving, the -lady-cooks and attendants may place prepared food on the table and sit -down to partake of it with their friends. One wing of the house is set -apart for nurseries and nursery training, another for school teaching, -inclusive of indoor kindergarten; a music-room well-deafened enables the -musical to practise many instruments without jarring the nerves of -others; a playroom for the young and a recreation-room set apart for -whist and chess, etc., a billiard room, and if desired, a smoking room; -a large drawing-room where social enjoyment is carefully promoted every -evening, a library or silent room where no interruption to reading is -permitted, these, and a few small boudoirs for intercourse with special -friends form the chief outer requirements of the ideal collectivist -home. - -All the details of household management may safely be left to pioneers -of the new woman movement; it belongs only to scientific meliorism to -point out the general features and structure of the reformed domestic -system and to show its vitally important position in relation to any -rational scheme of wide-reaching social reform. - -Humanity as a whole has to climb upward in the scale of being and to -leave behind it the individual or family selfishness allied with animal -passions that are purely anti-social; it has further to develop that -self-respect that allied with heart-fellowship brings in its train all -the social virtues that distinguish the man from the brute. Germs of -that self-respecting life are with us even now, but the soil in which -they will spring up to vigorous growth must be created, i.e. brought -together by man himself. The fitting of character to a new domestic -system should not be difficult in the case of children under wise -training, for it is as easy to acquire good habits in childhood as bad -habits, and the wholesome atmosphere of a well-regulated superior home -will powerfully and painlessly aid in shaping the young. But for the -grown-up to alter personal habits, and adapt thought and feeling to a -new order of every-day life, the task is not easy. It may press heavily -on the ordinary adult at the initial stage of the movement. Happily that -task may be rendered easier by mutual criticism kindly and gravely -exercised. The method was practised for upwards of thirty years in the -Oneida Creek Community with a marked success. Criticism, says one of the -members, is a boon to those who seek to live a higher life and only a -bugbear to those who lack ambition to improve. It was to the community a -bond of love and an appeal to all that is noblest, most refined and -elevated in human nature; it helped a man out of his selfishness in the -easiest, most kindly way possible. Whereas in ordinary life the -interference of the busybody, the tongue of the tale-bearer, the shaft -of ridicule, the venom of malice, are unavoidable—in the Community such -criticizing was almost unknown. It was bad form for anybody to speak -complainingly of anyone else, because criticism was the prerogative of -the Community, and was instituted to supersede all evil-speaking or -back-biting. Nor was it an occasion for direct fault-finding merely. -Those criticizing were always glad to dilate on the good qualities of -their subject, and to express their love and appreciation of what they -saw to commend. (Abel Easton, Member of the Oneida Community.) - -Another member, Allan Estlake, thus speaks: “Criticism was a barrier to -the approach of unworthy people from without, and equally a bar to the -development of evil influences within.” The practice was not original. -Mr. Noyes found it established in a select society of missionaries he -had joined previous to his forming the Oneida Community. - -One of the weekly exercises of this society, he tells us, was a frank -criticism of each other’s character for the purpose of improvement. The -mode of proceeding was this: At each meeting the member whose turn it -was, according to alphabetic order, to submit to criticism, held his -peace while the others one by one told him his faults. This exercise -sometimes crucified self-complacency, but it was contrary to the rules -of society for any one to complain. I found much benefit in submitting -to this ordeal both while I was at Andover and afterward.[12] If a -number of young men adopted criticism as a means of improvement it -should not be more difficult to pioneers of the new domestic life, young -and old, provided they have the same desire to improve. It might be -irksome to the young, until they had learned to profit by it, as all -discipline is at first, but when “our young people,” says Mr. Estlake, -“had formed habits in harmony with their means of improvement they -learned to love the means by which they had progressed and to rejoice in -the results of sufferings that were incident only to their -inexperience.”[13] - -Footnote 12: - - _The Oneida Community_, Allan Estlake, p. 65. - -Footnote 13: - - _The Oneida Community_, Allan Estlake, p. 66. - -Personal habits in the new domestic life will be judged in their -relation to the general interests of the household, and regulations made -to safeguard these interests. Cleanliness, orderliness, punctuality are -essential to home comfort, but conventional etiquette destroys the -geniality of domestic freedom. While simple rules of a positive kind are -strictly observed, the negative rule of non-interference with personal -habits that are unhurtful to others will be the most stringent of all, -and for this reason—happiness is the great object to attain, and a -supreme condition of happiness is the free interaction of social units -without intrusive interference. - -Committees will be necessary—for organizing labour on a method that will -ensure variety to workers and frequent leisure—for consultation on the -best means to adopt in training children individually—for management of -the finances—for recreative arrangements—and for purposes of general -direction and control. - -Authority will of course devolve on these committees chosen by members -of the household from among themselves. Every relic of primitive -despotism must be banished from the home: it is a self-acting republic. -Since children reared in the home will be one day responsible citizens -of a republican state, it were well to enlist them early in the work of -committees. They will learn thereby to subordinate personal desire to -the will of the majority, and to co-operate in action for the common -weal. The amusements and conduct of children are well within range of -their own understanding, and although supervision by adults is -necessary, great freedom should be allowed them in the management of -their conduct clubs and amusement committees. - -The relinquishment of personal property is not desirable at the present -stage of social evolution; for individuals—and there may be some—who, -however willing, are unable to adapt themselves to the new system, -should possess the power to return to the old system without let or -hindrance. - -Nevertheless, be it sooner or later, the ideal collectivist home of the -future will realize, though at first imperfectly, the beautiful -conception held by Isaac Taylor of the ideal family home of the past. -Here is the picture: “Home is a garden, high-walled towards the -blighting northeast of selfish care. In the home we possess a main means -of raising the happiest feelings to a high pitch and keeping them there. -No disparagement, no privation is to be endured by some for the -aggrandizement or ease of others. Along with great inequalities of -dignity, power and merit, there is yet a perfect and unconscious -equality in regard to comforts, enjoyments and personal consideration. -There is no room for grudges or individual solicitude. Whatever may be -the measure of good for the whole the sum is distributed without a -thought of distinction between one and another. Refined and generous -emotions may thus have room to expand, and may become the fixed habits -of the mind. Within the circle of home each is known to all, and all -respect the same principles of justice and love. There is therefore no -need for that caution, reserve or suspicion that in the open world are -safeguards against the guile, lawlessness and ferocity of a few.”[14] -There, too, may be wholly discarded that reticence with which, as with a -cloak, the modern, civilized man, says Lucas Mallet, strives to hide the -noblest and purest of his thought. - -Footnote 14: - - _Home Education_, Isaac Taylor, pp. 33 and 34. - -The new system fully worked out will make homes permanent instead of -transitory. It will check the premature sending of girls out into the -world and the tendency of young life generally to drift. It will develop -industrial activities and give effective household labour. It will -lessen the sordid cares of humanity and increase its social joys. It -will create an environment calculated to restrain tempestuous youth and -cause every selfish passion to subside in the presence of mutual love. -It will perfect education by co-ordinating the life of the young and -securing that the entire juvenile orbit is governed by forces of fixed -congruity. It will provide every comfort for old age and garner its -dearly-bought experience. It will promote healthy propagation causing -the birth of the fit; it will facilitate marriage of the affections and -make early marriage possible. It will tend infancy in a wholly superior -manner, and by scientific breeding, rearing, training, produce future -citizens of the State of a higher intellectual, moral and spiritual -type. - - - - - _PART VII_ - RELIGION AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE - - - - - PRIMAL ELEMENTS IN HUMANITY’S EVOLUTION - - - SECTION 1 - - Is this material universe self-sufficient and self-contained, or is - not the “other conception,” the true one, viz. “that of a universe - lying open to all manner of spiritual influences, permeated through - and through with a divine spirit, guided and watched by living minds - acting through the medium of law indeed, but with intelligence and - love behind the law; a universe by no means self-sufficient or - self-contained, but with feelers at every pore groping into another - supersensuous order of existence where reigns laws hitherto unimagined - by science, but laws as real and as mighty as those by which the - material universe is governed?”—SIR OLIVER LODGE, “The Outstanding - Controversy between Science and Faith,” _Hibbert Journal_ for October, - 1902. - - -To the man of Western civilization, whose environment in youth was a -domestic atmosphere of Sabbath-day Christian orthodoxy and week-day -religious indifference along with a social atmosphere of commercial -individualism and the steady pursuit of sense pleasures, it is no easy -task to form a correct judgment regarding the true position of religion -and its relative worth in evolution. - -A study of the subject reveals that not only the more and less civilized -races of mankind have each some specialized form of religion, but the -non-civilized savage tribes of the earth are similarly endowed. Their -worship may be degraded to the last degree, but it holds them in its -grasp, and in studying these facts we are compelled to believe that -humanity is so constituted that its deepest needs are only to be -expressed through and by religion. - -The various religions of the world must have been essential to -evolution, since evolution, as applied to man, signifies the ample, -thorough development of every integral part of human nature in each -individual. But while recognizing religion as a necessary expression of -human nature and a supreme characteristic of man, we have also to -realize that its forms are as various as the distinctive differences -amongst men, and that changes from time to time inevitably occur for -good or evil in every religion. None are stationary, none are perfect. -And the spiritual verities which lie at the base of all are constantly -overlaid by superstitions, while the external forms harden and grow -inoperative for good. - -Now, on the theory that religion is in effect necessary to evolution, -and further, that it represents fundamentally an emanation from the -plane of spirit, i.e. from a region transcending our phenomenal -existence, what would nineteenth century intelligence _a priori_ expect -of the various divergent religious systems? That amid variations, some -striking similarities would exist to indicate the identity of their -original source. It would expect also to find some statement of facts in -nature not otherwise known to man, some recognition of the stupendous -movement of evolution—the elucidation of which in its physical aspect is -the grand achievement of modern science—and some hint of the laws -governing that movement. Further, it would expect to find guidance to -right conduct and some indications of the paramount purpose and end of -universal life. - -Hitherto, as it happens, the investigating spirit of modern science has -concerned itself little with theological matters; and the recognized -exponents of our own racial theology are incompetent judges here. Their -training has made of them religious specialists so interpenetrated by -sectarian dogma that they are incapable of assuming the mental attitude -of a genuine criticism claiming no superiority for Christianity over -other great religions, save such value of position as lies in its later -birth and development. Outside the churches, however, comparative -theology is not neglected, and it is freely admitted now by many earnest -students of the subject that all the great religions of the world -possess spiritual, ethical and philosophical ideas in common. - -Hinduism deals with startling facts of the invisible world. In the -Vedas[15] it teaches that consciousness is the foundation or groundwork -of all nature, that matter and force are instinct with conscious life. -Behind these is the great unmanifested Deity—the “Unknowable” of our own -Spencerian philosophy—the Illimitable, Eternal, Absolute, Unconditioned -Source of the Universe, incognizable and inconceivable to the finite -faculties of man. With manifestation there appears the threefold aspect -of Deity—the supreme Logos of the Universe—a Unity in Trinity and a -Trinity in Unity, the reflection of which as Consciousness, Substance, -Force, runs throughout nature, and is also shown in the Christian and -other creeds and the Pauline description of man’s triune -constitution—body, soul and spirit. The doctrine of evolution is taught -in Hinduism on far wider lines than the modern intellectual conception -lays down. The latter, dealing with outward appearance, bases itself on -physical phenomena. The former transcends phenomenal existence and human -experience. It embraces the superlatively great, the infinitely small -and complex, and presents a cosmogony evolutional throughout, while it -points to a spiritual development for the individual so extensive and -sublime that the Western mind, unused to metaphysical thought, is unable -to grasp and clothe it in words. In this philosophy there is no -stultifying of human endeavour by the view of the soul’s opportunities -as confined to three score years and ten. That span of life makes but a -single page in the soul’s vast evolutional history, for at the centre of -Hinduism lies a rock-bed of belief in re-incarnation—that process of -nature which accomplishes the gradual growth and spiritual elevation of -humanity by means of the individual soul’s successive returns to -physical life, with intervening periods of spiritual rest or latency. -The threefold nature of man gives him touch with three levels of -existence, and Hindu religion represents him bound to a wheel -unceasingly turning in three worlds, viz. a world of waking -consciousness or the physical body, and of two other worlds to which he -passes successively at and after death, and in which he works out his -latest earthly experience and assimilates all its fruit, then returns -through the gateway of birth to begin a fresh course of discipline and -learning. - -Footnote 15: - - It is from the study of the Vedas that the educated Hindu seeks to - derive his creed. I refer my reader to Mr. J. E. Slater’s _Higher - Hinduism in relation to Christianity_. - -Turning from the transcendental to the scientific and practical sides of -Hinduism, we find an external worship and broad polity calculated to -regulate human conduct in every relation of life, religious, national, -social, family and personal—the entire system founded on the law of -causation on all planes of being. By our own scientists, that law is -recognized on the physical plane as the invariable sequence of cause and -effect. Hinduism regards it as working also on higher planes, and terms -it the law of action or Karma—the moral retribution which brings out -inexorably in one life the results following from causes arising in -previous lives. Responsibility therefore rests with every -self-conscious, reflective being, and divine justice is shown -reconcilable with the free-will of man through the union of Karma and -re-incarnation. “God is not mocked; whatsoever a man soweth that shall -he also reap.” - -The religion of the Parsis, i.e. the modern form of Zoroastrianism, has -equally with Hinduism a metaphysical philosophy, and an outward worship, -while mingled with all there is an astronomical teaching based on the -same conception of nature as is found in Hinduism, viz. that it is the -manifestation, in infinitely varied forms, of the one universal -consciousness or mind. The constitution of humanity is two-fold. Spirit -and matter are two distinct and different principles, both are in man; -and he is capable of siding definitely with either. The ethic of -Zoroastrian faith is based on the belief that he will throw himself on -the side of the pure, that he will battle for it and maintain it. To be -at all times actively on the side of purity is a clear personal duty. -The devout Zoroastrian must keep the earth pure and till it religiously. -He must perform the functions of agriculture as a service to the gods, -for the earth is the pure creature of Ahura Mazdao—the Supreme Spirit to -be guarded from all pollution. And passing from the outer to the inner -life of the individual, the constantly-repeated maxim is this: I -withdraw from all sins by pure thoughts, pure deeds, pure words. - -In Taoism, a religion of China of earlier date than Hinduism or -Zoroastrianism, there exists a fragment of ancient scripture called the -Classic of Purity, wherein man is regarded as a trinity, viz. spirit, -mind, body. To quote from Mr. Legge’s translation: “Now the spirit of -man loves purity, but his mind disturbs it. The mind of man loves -stillness, but his desires draw it away. If he could always send his -desires away, his mind would of itself become still. Let his mind be -made clean, and his spirit will of itself become pure.” (Here we have -the idea, expressed in all religions, of the conflict between the higher -and lower nature in man and the necessity for spirit to dominate mind -and body. Refer to St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans, vii. 15, 21, 22 and -23.) - -Again, Buddhism has absorbed the attention of modern Oriental scholars -through the fascination of the Buddha’s purity and elevation of thought. -There are two divisions of this faith, viz., the Mahayana, that of the -Northern Church, found in Tibet, Nepaul, China, Corea, and Japan, and -the Hinayana, that of the Southern Church, found in Ceylon, Burmah, -Siam, etc. The Mahayana (Greater Vehicle) is closely allied to Hinduism -in its teachings regarding the spiritual world, the continuing ego of -individual man, the life after death, the rites and ceremonies of -worship, and the mystic side of personal religion. In the Hinayana -(Lesser Vehicle) of the Southern Church, much of this mystic teaching -has been dropped, nevertheless it retains a wonderful system of ethics, -with appeals made to human reason, and a constant attempt to justify and -render intelligible the foundations on which the morals are built. -Buddhism is clearly the daughter of the more ancient Hinduism. Its -scriptures are the echo of the Hindu scriptures, and the general -teachings, while thrown into a less metaphysical form, are penetrated -with the Hindu spirit. Causation is in both an unbroken law. In the -Dhammapada, for instance, it is written: “If a man speaks or acts with a -pure thought, happiness follows him like a shadow that never leaves him. -If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him as the -wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage. He who has -done what is evil cannot free himself of it, he may have done it long -ago or afar off, he may have done it in solitude, but he cannot cast it -off.” - -Buddha taught that evil is overcome only by its opposite, i.e. good: -“Let every man overcome anger by love, let him overcome the greedy by -liberality, the liar by truth,” etc., etc. And here the religion is -closely in touch with Christian ethics: “Love your enemies, bless them -that curse you, do good to them that hate you,” etc. “Love is the -fulfilling of the Law.” With regard to man’s destiny, Buddha’s teachings -build on his hearers’ acceptance of the Hindu doctrine of -re-incarnation. - -(In the Pali Canon occur these words: “The Bhikshee [the disciple] sees, -with eye divine, beings dropping away and reappearing, he knows them -reaping according to their several karma, degraded and ennobled, -beautiful and ugly, well-placed and ill-placed.” From this and many -other passages of the Pali Canon “it is clear and evident and beyond a -shadow of doubt,” says J. C. Chatterji, “that the Buddha taught the -identity of the re-incarnating ego, though he did not give it that name. -He called it Consciousness or Vignana.”—_Theosophical Review_, Jan., -1898, p. 415.) Without that his system falls to the ground. The path of -salvation he points to implies a persistent course of personal effort, -and he who would tread that path must open his mind to discriminate -between things that are transitory and those that are real and -permanent. To the former belong all the pleasures of sense, every -earthly desire and ambition, and every selfish thought. - -Deep within man’s nature, however, there lies hid a germ or seed of the -permanent. This will persist throughout all the ages amid the fleeting -phantasmagoria of many lives, and this he must cherish, nourish, -develop. He must resist and renounce the corrupting influences of the -flesh. He must master his passions, steady his mind, and control, -enlighten and elevate his thoughts. Further, he must purify his emotions -and actions, pervading the world with a “heart of love, far-reaching, -grown great and beyond measure.” (The Tevijja Sutta.) Finally, the -individual consciousness will expand, until, able to function in subtler -vehicles than those of physical matter, the man passes out of the -chrysalis state of formal existence to emerge upon higher levels of life -and reach at length the Buddhist Nirvana—that supreme crown of -immortality and acme of conscious bliss. - -This pilgrimage of the soul through many births and deaths, with its -steadfast struggles and gradual liberation from all earthly debasing -entanglements, forms a striking contrast to certain teachings of the -modern Christian Churches. Dogma there presents to us an undeveloped -helpless soul, as playing—within a circumscribed area of earth’s -surface—its one little game of experimental life. The fate of the soul -for all eternity hangs in the balance, all its chances for weal or woe -depending on a single throw of the dice. And what are the terms of the -game? Conditions of life so adverse, in millions of cases, that defeat -is a foregone conclusion. No wonder civilized men with a seedling of -justice in the soul, reject the whole scheme of nature allied with this -dogma, and frankly disavow religious faith. - -But the question arises, how does it happen that Christianity, with an -ethic fundamentally the same as that of every other great religion of -the world, diverges so completely here? Is it conceivable that -Christianity, while of Divine origin, has become in process of time -dwarfed and deformed to the extent even of losing some _essential_ -features? It holds, as sectarian pulpits represent it, no doctrine of -re-incarnation, and appears to have no clear basis of metaphysical or -philosophic thought. Moreover, it has elements impossible to reconcile -with the mental and emotional developments of a scientific and -intellectual age. The anthropomorphic conception of Deity, the almost -literal interpretation of the Jewish allegory of creation, the -personalization of the metaphysical and mystic Trinity; the approval of -the barbarous sacrifices and vengeful Deity of the Old Testament; the -anti-evolutional doctrine of the vicarious Atonement in the New -Testament; the crude ideas concerning the soul, heaven and hell; and the -absence of any evolutional theory applied to human destiny—all these, -and above all the ignorance and pride that claim for this particular -form of religion a unique position in the world’s history, and assume -that it alone and no other religion is the revelation of God to man, -show an ample justification for the fact that the most intelligent men -and women of Western civilization stand outside the Christian Churches -to-day, or are in them from motives that have nothing to do with devout -religious feeling. - -If, however, we turn to the history of the Church and search its ancient -records, or if unable ourselves to grapple with the problem, we place -confidence in the evidence of students who have done so, we find that an -entirely new light is thrown on Christianity and its real position. In -the writings of the Christian Fathers, there is a constant reference -made to grades of members and teaching within the early Church. First, -the general members, and from those the pure in life went into a second -grade. The latter formed the “few chosen” from the many called. But -beyond these were the “chosen of the chosen,” who, “with perfect -knowledge lived in perfection of righteousness according to the law.” -Clement of Alexandria, one of the greatest of the Fathers of the Church, -wrote: “It is not to be wished that all things should be exposed -indiscriminately to all and sundry, or the benefits of wisdom -communicated to those who have not, even in a dream, been purified in -soul ... nor are the mysteries of the word to be expounded to the -profane.” Origen tells us that Jesus conversed with His disciples in -private, and especially in their most secret retreats, concerning the -Gospel of God; but the words He uttered have not been preserved. And -when Celsus assailed Christianity as a secret system, Origen replied -such a notion was absurd, “but that there should be certain doctrines -not made known to the multitude and which are revealed after the -exoteric doctrines have been taught, is not a peculiarity of -Christianity alone, but also of philosophic systems, in which certain -truths are exoteric and others esoteric.” Elsewhere he explains that -Scripture is threefold in meaning, that it is the “flesh” for simple -men, the “soul” for the more instructed, the “spirit” for the “perfect,” -and in corroboration he quotes from Scripture the words of St. Paul, “We -speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, even the hidden wisdom,” and “we -speak wisdom amongst them that are perfect.” - -We have here, then, more than a trace of some deeper teaching than -appears on the surface of Christianity, some mine of hidden truth too -sacred and profound for open display to the undiscerning multitude. Is -it not evident that Christianity contains at its centre, known only to -the few, the same transcendental and spiritual conceptions, the same -supra-physical and mystical philosophy as the ancient religions contain? -But if this be so, how came the most precious truths of religion to be -apparently lost? - -They were lost through the uncomprehending ignorance of the early -followers of the Master, Christ, and the sectarian bigotry of -ecclesiastics who cut themselves apart from the holders of the inner -teaching and, becoming a majority, overcame the learned few, stamping as -heretics the last remnants known as Christian Gnostics, Manicheans, -Pelasgians, and Arians, all of whom, counted schismatics, were -eventually crushed out through cruel persecution by the victorious -orthodox Latin and Greek Churches. Nevertheless, some fragments of the -hidden wisdom of the early teaching have survived in the uncomprehended -symbols of the creeds and ceremonies of the Churches. (I refer my reader -to Mr. C. W. Leadbeater’s work, _The Christian Creed_.) - -That re-incarnation and Karma formed part of the original teaching is, I -think, abundantly evident. In Gnosticism and Manicheism they were -apparent. The Christian Fathers speak plainly of these doctrines, and -Origen refers to Pythagoras, Plato and Empedocles as holding them. -Moreover, Jesus Christ is made to utter a clear statement concerning -John the Baptist, that implies the doctrine of re-incarnation, and his -answer to the question about a blind man, “who did sin, this man or his -parents, that he was born blind?” shows the acceptance in the early -Church of both doctrines. The whole incident reveals that the subject of -re-incarnation was familiar to the followers of Christ, and Josephus -expressly states that the Pharisees held the doctrine of re-birth. There -is then little doubt that in the _early_ Church the belief was widely -spread, but later at a General Council—a Council held after darkness had -begun its reign—it was formally condemned and stamped as a heresy. - -Bearing in mind the view that all the great religions come from the same -spiritual source, it is significant to find the following in the -writings of a rigid Roman Catholic historian, viz. A. F. Ozanam: “Having -burst over the borders of the country to which it had once been -confined, Buddhism at the year 61 B.C. made a new appearance on the -scene, and invaded all Northern Asia.... This great movement could not -but influence the West. It effected its entrance (into Christendom) -through the Gnostic sects. The Gnosis was the designation of a higher -science or initiation reserved for a handful of chosen spirits.” Again, -speaking of the Manicheans, he says: “It is difficult to decide whether -Manes drew his system originally from these Buddhist sources or found -the teaching which he handed down to his disciples held by former -Gnostic sects, themselves impregnated with the Oriental doctrine.” -(Ozanam’s _History of Civilization in the Fifth Century_, vol. i. pp. -247 and 254.) It is easy to see that this Oriental doctrine was none -other than the hidden wisdom of Jesus and Paul as well as of Buddha. - -The special doctrine of re-incarnation is said to be absent in the -fragments of the Avesta and in the Zend commentaries, and absent also in -the latter Pahlavi doctrines. It is not held by the modern Parsis. “On -the other hand,” says G. R. S. Mead, B.A., M.R.A.S., “Greek writers -emphatically assert that the doctrine of re-incarnation was one of the -main tenets of the Magian tradition.” The same author elsewhere remarks: -“Since Bardaisan, like all the great Gnostics, believed in -re-incarnation, such a conception as the resurrection of the physical -body was nothing but a gross superstition of the ignorant.” (The -_Theosophical Review_ for March, 1898, p. 17.) - -To judge Christianity fairly, it was necessary to know something of its -origin, its antecedents and the early phases of its life. We had to -follow the history of its early sects and observe the changes effected -in the Church by forces playing upon it from without. The Church -gradually rose into a position of social influence and authority, from -which it again declined, and it was during the latter condition that in -its struggles to maintain power and supremacy amid adverse forces it -dropped out the mystic beliefs difficult of apprehension by Western -minds; it ceased to order and classify its adherents, and it ultimately -adapted its doctrines to the materialistic spirit of the dawning era of -modern science.[16] Nevertheless, the Church retained its pure _ethical_ -teaching. It has held up to view the noble unselfish life of its founder -Jesus of Nazareth. No one could deny that during the period even of its -degradation, this religion has proved to millions of human beings a -source of vital comfort and joy, and to some extent of spiritual light. - -Footnote 16: - - Tertullian complains: “They have all access alike; they hear alike, - they pray alike, even heathens if any such happen to come among them.” - -The tendency of Protestantism was to assert the claims of all men—the -weak and childish as well as the thoughtful and intellectually strong—to -a clear understanding of the Church’s whole teaching. In pursuance of a -policy to meet this demand, the Church gave forth a simplified -presentation of God and Nature that contradicts the plainest facts of -science, and creates within minds of deeper, more expanded faculty, a -conscientious revolt from the Christian faith to an attitude of honest -scepticism. Outside the Church, however, other forces of evolution have -prevailed to carry man forward, and to-day there exists an earnest and -devout spirit of inquiry, and a strong dissatisfaction with the purely -materialistic theory of Nature. - -Conspicuous among the forces of change are, first, the study of physical -phenomena on scientific methods, a study which, by convincing the -Western mind of a profound mystery behind all phenomena, gives fresh -impulse to speculative thought, and rouses effort to reach and apprehend -the law of evolution. Second, the study of psychic phenomena revealing -modes of consciousness hitherto ignored, and impelling science to -penetrate the hidden recesses of our psychic activities and investigate -some of the heights and depths of man’s inner constitution. Third, the -historical studies that throw new light on the marvellous civilizations -of the past and those religions that are more ancient than Christianity. - -Whatever the ultimate outcome of these studies may prove, it is clear -that the perspective of early faiths—their range and reach—was vaster -than that of current Christianity, and this perception is creeping into -our popular literature and laying hold of public thought. For instance, -a recent writer remarks: “The modern scientific revelation of stellar -evolution and dissolution seems a prodigious confirmation of Buddhist -theories of cosmical law.” And again, “With the acceptance of the -doctrine of evolution old forms of thought crumbled, new ideas arose to -take the place of worn-out dogmas, and we have a general intellectual -movement in directions strangely parallel with Oriental philosophy.” -(Lafcadio Hearn’s _Hints and Echoes of Japanese Inner Life_.) - -This movement necessarily will advance only by carrying with it, i.e. -convincing step by step, the reason of man, and seeing that Oriental -philosophy has the doctrines of re-incarnation and Karma at its -foundation, these must be tested and the fact ascertained whether or not -they are consistent with the laws of phenomenal existence already -discovered and believed in by the Occidental mind. “To-day,” says -Lafcadio Hearn, “for the student of scientific psychology, the idea of -pre-existence passes out of the realm of theory into the realm of fact,” -and he quotes in corroboration of this statement Professor Huxley’s -opinion of the theory—“None but very hasty thinkers will reject it on -the ground of inherent absurdity. Like the doctrine of evolution itself, -that of transmigration has its roots in the world of reality, and it may -claim such support as the great argument from analogy is capable of -supplying.” (_Evolution and Ethics_, p. 61, Ed. 1894.) - -At this epoch of the world’s history, the humanity that exists is of an -infinitely varied character. At one end of the scale, we have in savages -the simplest forms of racial types, at the other the most complex forms, -and between these every conceivable variant. The distinctions go deeper -as we ascend the scale, and there are no two beings alike in their -powers of abstract thinking, the nature of their intellectual, emotional -and moral qualities, and the groupings of these qualities—in a word, -their individualities. Now one thing demanded by the developed -intellects of this age is a generalization that will cover and explain -these perplexing differences. The law of heredity does this to a very -limited extent only. So far as the physical structure is concerned it -explains much; but when we come to the mental and moral developments, -its insufficiency is apparent. Genius and idiocy may be found springing -up from the same parent stock and under identical conditions of training -in childhood. Variety of character will appear in children of the same -family from almost the moment of birth. One infant comes into the world -handicapped by a sullen temper and vicious disposition, another with the -most lovable traits. It is inconceivable that these incongruous effects -flow from congruous causes on the physical plane. And were we able to -logically accept these physical causes as adequate, no civilized being -could morally respect the ordering of a universe wherein innocent souls -newly created enter life handicapped by vicious propensities. Either the -Power behind all phenomena is a malevolent Power, or the universe is a -chaos—the inconsequent outcome of random chance. - -These painful alternatives cease their troubling, however, and all -perplexities gradually disappear as the mind of man grows into a clear -apprehension of evolution in its full significance. The basic law of -evolution is that all existence proceeds in cycles, each having its -objective and subjective arc. In other words, there is a constant flow -of motion and consciousness from without within and from within without. -On the lowlier levels of life, this law is observed and science based -upon it. In the vegetable kingdom, the leaves, stalk and flower of a -specific plant perish as completely as though they had never existed; -but the subjective entity remains, and in due course it reappears, -clothed in a different vestment of cells, the same in all the details of -its intricate form. - -In the insect kingdom, all the wonderful changes that transform a -crawling slimy caterpillar into a glorious vision of beauty and grace -takes place in silence and darkness—from within without. Here the law of -evolution takes a wider range than in the vegetable kingdom. Form, -function, habit, all are changed, yet we know by actual observation that -the soaring butterfly and crawling caterpillar are intrinsically one and -the same. Moreover, the whole process of change is accomplished in the -pupa stage independently of that food supply which—to the scientific -conception—seems indispensable in the generation and continuation of -vital force. (I must here refer my reader to the full discussion of this -subject in chapters v. and vi. of Dr. Jerome A. Anderson’s -_Re-incarnation—A Study of the Human Soul_.) - -Now in our habit of regarding humanity in its higher aspect as the acme -or crown of terrestrial life, we are apt to forget the potent connexions -that link it with life in general. But re-incarnation, if we would judge -it philosophically, must not be wrenched from its place in the order of -nature and studied as an isolated fragment. - -“All evolution consists,” says Mrs. Besant, “of an evolving life passing -from form to form as it evolves, and storing up the experience gained -through the forms; the re-incarnation of the human soul is not the -introduction of a new principle into evolution, but the adaptation of -the universal principle to meet conditions rendered necessary by the -individualization of the continually evolving life.” (_The Ancient -Wisdom_, p. 234.) The doctrine of human evolution summed up in the term -re-incarnation cannot be proved in the same sense as a new discovery in -physics can be proved—that goes without saying. But we may claim that it -can be so nearly proved by reasoning that no intelligent being who -correctly apprehends the idea and applies it with patience to the -experience of existence, whether in or out of the body, can fail to -believe it as fully, for example, as the modern scientific world -believes in the electro-magnetic theory of light. That theory is no -longer argued about. It is the only theory that will explain all the -facts. And of re-incarnation in a higher domain we may equally affirm it -is the only theory that explains the facts and is consonant with all the -known laws of nature. It is luminous with a truly scientific aspect. It -satisfactorily accounts for the inherent differences in character that -heredity leaves unexplained, and it renews our faith in love and wisdom -as underlying the phenomena of earthly existence, notwithstanding -present appearances. - -But add to this the fact that every great religion of the world, except -modern Christianity, holds it more or less completely, whilst -Christianity also originally held it; and if a spiritual and ethical -theory of the universe be tenable, then cultured minds rejecting -re-incarnation must either have failed to study the subject in its -antecedents and bearings, or they must be by constitution profoundly -unphilosophical. (I refer my reader here to chap. iii. of Mr. A. P. -Sinnett’s _Growth of the Soul_.) - -After all, it is a comparatively few men and women who seek intellectual -clearness of vision, and are restless of soul till they grasp a theory -of the universe and an interpretation of life that alike may satisfy -head and heart—the mass of mankind is unthinking. And as we contemplate -the stupendous task of evolution in developing each individual soul out -of the embryonic condition of the savage to a conscious control and -exercise of all the divine potencies of a perfected spiritual man, we -feel no surprise that the major part of humanity stands yet in its -childhood. Unequal development is the natural corollary of general -evolution. The heart of modern man, however, is for the most part in -advance of his head, and it is here, viz. on the emotional side of human -nature, that religion—no matter what the specific form may have been—has -ministered to man’s needs and proved an all-important factor of -evolution. - -Revelation, as Lessing (who believed in re-incarnation) declares, has -been the education of the human race. “It did not,” he says, “give -anything that human reason left to itself would not arrive at, but it -gave the most important of these things earlier”—that is, before the -reasoning faculties were fully developed in man. (Lessing’s Treatise: -_The Education of the Human Race_, translated by the Rev. F. W. -Robertson.) - -The founders of every religion—the great and wise ones of the earth—have -guided the race in its slow and gradual ascent from infancy to manhood, -and even through the degeneration to which every religion has been -subjected from human ignorance and selfishness. - - - SECTION 2 - -We have now to turn from racial religions to personal religion, and as -the springs of individual conduct lie earlier in the heart than in the -head, spiritual developments begin there. It is in accordance with -natural order that the right conduct and simple devotion of millions of -human beings, intellectually blind, should yet aid the steady advance of -evolution towards its highest goal. - -The pilgrim soul pressing forward through a long series of births and -deaths has a chequered career of conquest and defeat, until, experience -guiding effort and overcoming waywardness, the animal stage of existence -has been distanced and left behind. But each of these pilgrim souls -pursues a path specifically its own, that is, differing from that of -every other pilgrim soul. The paths pursued are divided by Eastern -thought into three distinct classes. First, that of action; second, that -of devotion; third, that of wisdom. In the first class are to be found -men and women of infinitely varied powers taking part in all the -activities of the world, and striving with keenness to attain certain -desired results. Commencing, it may be, with low, selfish, narrow -motives of action, these gradually alter and improve, till motive and -action alike have become pure, unselfish and directed to the widest -beneficence. Such types of humanity tread the first path, that of -action, and in it are harvesting precious experience. They are -developing interiorly the powers that make for righteousness. - -To the second class belong all the world’s sincere religionists, those -beings whose regard—whether of fear or love—goes out to an ideal person. -The person, observe, may be of low or of high grade in accordance with -the subjective development of the individual worshipper. As the object -of devotion becomes purified, love casts out fear, and advance on this -path proceeds. Men and women adoring their conception of Krishna, or -Buddha, of Ahura Mazdao, or of Jesus Christ, are treading the path of -devotion, and may rise to the highest emotions of altruism, the most -selfless service of the Supreme, thus harmonizing ever more and more the -human will and the Divine will. - -Pilgrims of the third and smallest class are men and women whose -constant desire and endeavour is to search out the truth of things. In -the earlier grades of this path will be found scientific investigators -of physical phenomena; more advanced on the path are materialist -philosophers and all individuals directing their efforts to an -examination of man in the regions of emotion and mind. Above these again -are the men and women whose search is into the innermost nature of -things, and who, in the intensity of that search, lose more and more -their feeling of self, and merge themselves in Divine knowledge. - -To summarise the three paths: The first is a progress through human -activities from motives of self to motives of highest altruism. The -second is a progress through religious emotions, from fear of an -invisible demon, to the most selfless love of an ideal person and -unswerving devotion to true ideals. The third is a progress from the -simplest efforts to discover truth to the acquisition of Divine wisdom -by means of the immensely increased faculties of the perfected man. - -These three paths, like different ways up a mountain, meet at the top, -where pilgrims attain to the qualities of all, and not only of the one -path mainly traversed by each. All attain in the end to the fullest -development of human power and faculty, and to complete liberation from -the chain of births and deaths. That personal goodness and religious -zeal are the measure of spiritual development is only the Church’s view, -and it ignores a large part of human efforts and activities. Without -personal goodness certainly no spiritual life is possible, but beyond -the acme of personal goodness to lofty heights of knowledge, of wisdom, -of transcendent love and benevolence, rises the pilgrim human soul under -Divine tuition. - -We have now to inquire wherein the pilgrims resemble one another? The -feature common to all is the inner attitude of self-surrender. It may -spring from impulse or a half-unconscious sense of duty. Or, it may -result from the reasoning faculty, from reason controlling and directing -conduct with a full consciousness of responsibility. Again, it may be -allied with all the sacred aspirations and inspirations that follow upon -a long course of development, but whatever the cause and degree, this -attitude of mind makes it possible for the spiritual forces working in -and through humanity as a whole to manifest there, expanding the heart -and mind, and creating a further soul-evolution. - -There is a law in nature which has been well called the pulse of our -planetary system, a law of giving out. It involves no absolute and -ultimate sacrifice; and it is the only law by which progress and -exaltation in nature can be actually achieved. Now this law is a central -part of the teaching of every great religion. The Logos, we are told, in -bringing into existence an infinitude of centres of consciousness, made -the voluntary sacrifice of limiting His own boundless life. This thought -is expressed in the Christian Scriptures thus: “The Lamb slain from the -foundation of the world.” This first great outbreathing of the life of -the Logos is the earliest presentation of the law of sacrifice—that law -which prescribes that at every stage of evolution life and energy shall -be given out for the benefit of some consciousness on a lower grade than -the giver. This great principle of evolution is manifest in the -unselfish benevolence of all good men and women; even when they are -working as yet in blind obedience to the scarcely articulate impulses of -their awakening spiritual natures. (I refer my reader to p. 452 of Mr. -A. P. Sinnett’s _The Growth of the Soul_.) - -To our minds pain seems necessarily connected with sacrifice, but pain -proceeds wholly from discord within the sacrificer, i.e. from antagonism -between the higher part of his nature which is willing to give, and the -lower part whose satisfaction lies in grasping and keeping. The process -required in each case is a turning from the selfish, individualistic -attitude to that of a social, altruistic giving—a giving joyfully for -love’s sake. The transition naturally involves some pain, for the -conscious will has to gradually master the animal part of the nature, -and subordinate it to the higher self. - -Man is, in the order of evolution, primarily subject to animal desires. -His consciousness moves on the sensuous plane of existence, and he -clings to the physical elements in nature. By-and-bye he learns to -relinquish an immediate material good for a future good equally -material—it may be a greater worldly prosperity for himself or his -family. This sacrifice is not essentially noble, but it prepares the way -for a harder lesson, and one that calls out a deeper faculty within him. -Here again the process is one of exchange, but not of one form of -sensuous good for another. It is the exchange of material possessions or -sense pleasures for something of an entirely different order in nature—a -reward not visible, nay, possibly far off beyond the tomb. - -When humanity was in its childhood, religion inculcated and pressed upon -it this form of sacrifice; and as we ponder the martyr lives that stud -the pages of history we recognize the fact that thousands of human -beings practised the precept, and learned to endure, as seeing the -invisible, to stand morally upright without earthly prop, to value -spiritual companionship and joy in an inner life of purity and peace -when outward conditions were adverse and dark. - -A later, far higher phase of the law of sacrifice, is that wherein no -reward is thought of, or desired. Reaching manhood, humanity grapples -with the duties and accepts all the grave responsibilities of an -advanced evolutional stage. Duty becomes the motor of action, -self-mastery and love of one’s fellows the very keynotes of man’s music. -The animal part of his nature becomes subordinate to the higher self. -The third great lesson of sacrifice works within, the lesson, viz. to do -right simply because it is right, to give because giving is owed by each -to all, and not because giving will in any shape be pleasing to or -rewarded by God. - -During the various stages of progress, the pain aspect of sacrifice is -clearly seen. Nevertheless, a soul’s passionate grip upon things -physical and sensuous relaxes, and a day arrives when to give -spontaneously, freely, lavishly, is purest joy. Then is man’s life -merging into Divine life, and sacrifice is no more pain. Vital -dissonances cease to rend man’s heart, for his inner consciousness has -soared above the selfish separateness of phenomenal existence into -realms of nature where unity and love are the all-prevailing principles -of life. We know these principles in action through the beautiful, -selfless earthly pilgrimage of Him we call the Saviour of Mankind, whose -whole career was an At-one-ment with the Divine. - -The “Vicarious Atonement” doctrine of Western faiths to-day is both an -ecclesiastical device for increasing priestly power and a -misapprehension of the law we have been considering—the law of -sacrifice, by which the worlds are made, by which the worlds are living -now, and by which alone the union of man with God is brought about. That -noble doctrine of antiquity was changed by Mediæval Christianity into a -picture of the Godhead—Father and Son, in opposition to one another—a -picture that “shocks all reverence, and outrages reason by bringing all -manner of legal quibbles into the relationship between the Spirit of God -and man.” (_Four Ancient Religions_, Annie Besant, p. 166.) Again, a -race whose reasoning faculties are developed must needs repudiate the -Church’s dogma of “Imputed Righteousness”—a righteousness not inwrought -or attained to, but applied externally—a covering to what is corrupt and -base, yet deemed sufficient to secure a perfunctory pardon of sin, a -non-merited Divine favour. - -The real At-one-ment with the Divine, whereof Jesus the Christ is our -Archetype, admits of no substitutions, no subterfuges, makes no -fictitious claims. It signifies an actual transformation or process of -change, the inner consciousness passing from the lower to function on -higher levels of being. - -It is easy, however, to apprehend how the necessity of thinking of all -supra-physical things, i.e. the finer phenomena of existence, by means -of analogies and figures of speech that are purely physical, led to much -of error in the earlier stages of human development; and there is a -sense in which the “robe of righteousness” is a not inapt analogy or -figure. When speaking of the pilgrimage of the soul, the picture -presented is that of a concrete toiler, ascending slowly, breathing -heavily, sighing and evidencing effort to all our outer senses, yet we -know that the soul’s best efforts are mostly hidden from sight and -hearing and touch. But no confusion arises. The mental conception to -which the figure points is that of efforts as great though directed to -evils that are chiefly mental, emotional, moral, not physical. -Similarly, the “robe of righteousness” figure must not be overstrained. -Man’s soul is clothed upon by, or clothes itself in (it matters not -which, we say) robes or garments of flesh, and of finer physical -elements than flesh, elements intangible to his five senses. The flesh -garment or body is constantly changing, and so are the bodies of desire -and of thought. The changes occur through the action and interplay of -diverse subtle forces. Fresh elemental matter is borne in from without -to replace the atoms of structures tending to decompose, while a process -of selection, determination and assimilation proceeds through the action -of forces within. - -But the same laws of growth apply to realms of nature less open to -observation, and a careful selection and choice of material is as potent -and necessary in building the bodies of desire and thought as in -building the body of solid flesh. And what are the available materials -here? In the hidden life of our own thought and feeling we are conscious -of an unceasing flow of transient states, or we may express it, currents -of emotional and mental vibrations reaching us from we know not whence, -waves breaking upon us from without. If we deliberately choose the -elevated moods, the purest, swiftest vibrations, and seek habitually to -retain these and make them our own, sweetness and light must inevitably -characterize the habitation we are slowly building for our inner -consciousness. In other words, the vehicles of our feeling and thought -will become as “robes of righteousness.” - -Desires, passions, emotions form what has been called the astral -body;[17] aspiration and thought or the action of reason, imagination -and the artistic faculties, create a still subtler, or mind-body, while -the blend of the two is what we are accustomed to observe as ruling -character. And when the physical is cast off at death, man’s -consciousness passes into his subtle bodies and into regions of bliss -whither we may not follow, but of which St. Paul gives us a glimpse when -he says “we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, Eternal -in the Heavens.” - -Footnote 17: - - A real body of subtle matter interpenetrating the flesh body and - visible to some clairvoyants. - -Now, to minds permeated by cruder ideas of man’s body and soul the above -will seem mystical and unreal. Nevertheless, there are many minds, -scientifically trained to a close observation of the manifold phenomena -of life with all the finer forces and elements in nature, that are ready -to accept a truer conception of the complex constitution of man. To all -such, the proof of the actual existence of these transcendental vehicles -of consciousness lies in hypnotic and other psychic phenomena, and in -the evidence of experience. For, given a certain amount of intimate -intercourse, and the man within the man shows himself to the eye of his -friend through expression, attitude, gesture. But what the mental eye -sees behind the veil of flesh must exist in some form. Hence the eye -discerns not the consciousness, but its phenomenal garment or vehicle, -and the texture organized is coarse, brutal, degraded or animal, -sensuous, selfish, or of a finer and purer nature, divinely human, -indicating the grade and quality of the animating principle or soul -within. - - - - - SUMMARY - - -Passing back once more from personal religion, or the rise and -purification of the inner nature of the individual man, to the great -subject of religion in general, we must again have recourse to physical -analogies or figures of speech. A mighty stream or current of spiritual -vibrations has flowed from the beginning behind the circumstances of -history; and each branch of the human family has caught up, retained, -and manifested a portion thereof. But the manifestations have at all -times been governed by the receptive capacity of the particular race and -its inherent distinctions. Every formulated religion is of dual -complexion: first, the initial motive, which is spiritual; second, the -expression, which is due to ideas, and these are furnished by the mind. -The creeds, dogmas, rituals, are outgrowths of the age, civilization and -locality. - -Christianity has ostensibly been the religion of Western Europe during a -long period of development in all the material appliances of a civilized -life when mental and physical forces, engaged in accumulating wealth, -have dominated this development and tended to depress and destroy the -higher impulses and aspirations of man. Christianity, already weakened -by errors that had crept in, was unable to withstand the corrupting -influences of a money-making age. It adapted itself to the sternly -practical business-like son of the West, and dropped out much of the -imaginative and reflective side of its teaching. But the “old order -changeth,” and, as has been shown in previous chapters, one great -department of civilized life, viz. the prevailing system of industry, is -hastening to its dissolution. That system has been tried in the furnace -of a longsuffering, patient experience, and found to create national -wealth in abundance, while utterly failing to subserve general -well-being, and bring about a just arrangement of social conditions. - -Through all the channels of the nation’s best thinking there has sounded -low, but clear as a clarion note, a call to social reform, and now, in -the depths of industrial confusion, amid dumb despair and loud-voiced -public discontent, the still small voice of conscience speaks audibly, -and a stirring of dry bones over the whole field of action, betokens the -awakening to a new era of existence. Spiritual vibrations have loosened -the foundations of our materialized, selfish life, and pierced through -the crust of callous indifference to the heart of the nation. A new -tenderness lurks there. It prompts to the entire overthrow of our -hideous industrial warfare and the substitution of a well-ordered system -based, reared and maintained through the action of wide-reaching love. -But love was the distinguishing feature of early Christianity, and the -genius of its teaching. Through the figure of family life, with its -tender ties, unselfish actions and unity of interests and feeling, did -Christianity strive to allure to the broader, higher, deeper love that -embraces all mankind and manifests throughout all human relations. - -Pioneers of the social revolution may abjure the churches, creeds and -rituals, and boast themselves agnostic, but none the less are they -aiding the reembodiment, on this material plane, of the true religious -spirit, or the birth of a religion fitted for the nation’s age and -civilization.[18] - -Footnote 18: - - Mr. Lester F. Ward (in his new work published in 1903) formulates a - distinction between human and animal societies by saying that the - environment transforms the animal while man transforms the - environment. This transformation constitutes what he calls - “achievement,” and is the characteristic feature in human progress. - The products of “achievement” are not material things. They are - methods, ways, principles, devices, arts, systems, institutions. - -The Church, it is true, gives no formal countenance to the industrial -revolution, but that does not disprove my contention that it is the -_distinctive religious movement of this age_, and that it is in line and -harmony with the religious movements of former ages. These may seem to -have been less secular than this, but they always embraced a reformation -of social and individual life. The actual distinction arises from the -Church’s own deficiencies, and from the greater elaboration of modern -society, causing an almost undue prominence to be given to the outward -changes necessary at the beginning of a modern reformation. The Church -must inevitably conform itself to the industrial revolution. It must -reform itself from within; and this is clearly perceived by many of its -members. - -Whilst I write a conference of the Young Men’s Christian Association is -taking place. A question discussed was: “What is the cause of young -men’s drifting away from the Church?” One speaker remarked that to his -mind the cause was the want of fixity of opinion on the great -fundamentals of their common Christianity. Young men found that -ministers were not agreed upon what they preached, and until the Church -made up its mind as to what was really the truth, there could be no -remedy for this drifting. Another speaker said he knew young men who -hated the Church, and said it was not consistent. They pointed to the -slum dwellings in their great cities, and asked what the Church was -doing to remedy the state of affairs there disclosed. In fact, they -said: “Salvation is hardly worth the taking, it’s so mixed up with -money-making. If the Church was to reach young men, it must take up a -more consistent attitude with regard to all social questions.” (From the -_Scotsman_.) - -But religion is not of the Church alone, religion appertains to the -_totality_ of life; and the right ordering of all the conditions of the -nation’s material existence is the first step in the attainment of a -national religious life. For, observe, the broad current of spiritual -vibrations encompassing the race can have no free course and ingress to -thrill the nerves and quicken the pulse of the nation so long as there -endures a fierce, brutal struggle for the means of potential life—a -struggle that hardens the heart and coarsens the fibre of rich and poor -alike. The movement we call Economic Socialism is a veritable recurrence -of the cry of the Prophet Esaias: “Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make -His paths straight.”[19] - -Footnote 19: - - What profits it to the human Prometheus that he has stolen the fire of - heaven to be his servant, and that the spirits of the earth and of the - air obey him, if the vulture of pauperism is eternally to tear his - very vitals and keep him on the brink of destruction?—HUXLEY. - -The Church militant must adjust itself without and within to the social -industrial revolution, to a wider development than hitherto in man’s -reasoning powers, and to a profound impulse in man—an impulse born of -experience—that is carrying him towards the vast region of philosophic -mysticism which lies behind the common Christian creeds and doctrines. -The poet caught the shadow of coming events when he wrote— - - So all intolerable wrong shall fade, - No brother shall a brother’s rights invade, - But all shall champion all: - Then shall men bear with an unconquered will - And iron heart the inevitable ill; - O’er pain, wrong, passion, death, victorious still - And calm, though suns should fall. - - Oh priests who mourn that reverence is dead, - Man quits a fading faith, and asks instead - A worship great and true. - I know that there was once a church where men - Caught glimpses of the gods believed in then: - I dream that there shall be such church again— - O dream, come true, come true. - —W. M. W. CALL. - - - - - SYNOPSIS - - The world has a purpose.... That purpose aims not at man as an end, - but works through him to greater issues.—H. G. WELLS. - - Man has already furthered evolution very considerably, half - unconsciously and for his own personal advantage, but he has not yet - risen to the conviction that it is his religious duty to do so - deliberately and systematically.—FRANCIS GALTON. - - -More than a century has elapsed since Pope’s line was written: “The -proper study of mankind is man,” yet it is only of recent years that -physiology has entered upon the proper method of that study. Discoveries -made in the last century have thrown fresh light on individual human -nature. The marvellous potency of thought has been demonstrated, and the -momentous fact of diverse states of basic consciousness made -apparent—the fact, namely, that the mind of individual man is not -functionally limited to his physical consciousness. - -Again, that every human being should have freedom to be happy was -realized by many at an earlier epoch; but what the essential nature -might be of a happiness that could satisfy the conflicting desires of -humanity differentiated in all its units—seemed an insoluble problem. -Psychology, however, indicates the solution of that problem, for it -shows that individual happiness is intimately bound up with, and -dependent upon, _general happiness_. The “subliminal or unconscious -mind,” otherwise termed the super-physical consciousness that is common -to all mankind knows no settled peace and comfort while the areas of -physically conscious life are scenes of perpetual conflict. Man to be -truly happy must be so collectively and not merely individually or -sectionally. - -Now the scheme of social reform I advocate points the way to a -unification of thought that working itself out through the diverse -channels of visible life will eject the causes of evil, bring order -where chaos has reigned, and slowly but surely establish the foundations -of universal peace. As Richard Harte has well said: “Human beings at -present are like a number of little magnets thrown promiscuously into a -heap, with their poles pointing in every direction, and wasting their -strength in opposing each other. These little magnets have to point in -the same direction that they may become bound together into one great -magnet, all powerful to attract good, all powerful to repel evil.” - -The new system of action bases its thought on the complexity of human -nature. It recognizes that the component cells of the physical body are -lives which must suffer if the laws of their well-being are not -subserved, and the suffering translates itself into pain or into -sub-conscious distressful melancholy. It perceives that the social -instincts of man hitherto thrust back and crushed are: “the various -needs of universal attraction all tending towards unity, striving to -meet and mingle in final harmony” (Zola). And further it apprehends that -a lofty aspiration—a divine impulse—hovers on the threshold of -consciousness waiting to enter as brutal passions and vicious -propensities are conquered and dispossessed. - -The evils that infest and corrupt our social life and that man must -deliberately uproot and eliminate before general happiness becomes -possible are—poverty, i.e. a life-long struggle to obtain food, shelter, -clothing; the birth of individuals weak and unfit; disease, premature -death; enforced celibacy; late marriage; drunkenness; disorganization of -family life; prostitution; war; and industrial competition; social -injustice and inequality; individual tyranny; crime; barbarous treatment -of criminals; disrespect of natural function and consequent injury to -health; conventional folly; social repression of innocent enjoyment; -religious bigotry; the feebleness of religious guidance and confusion of -religious thought. - -Partial views of society as well as of individual human nature have -hitherto prevailed and given birth to specifics of all kinds for the -cure of the diseases of society, and these in the growing tenderness of -humanity, have been eagerly adopted and applied, to prove disappointing -in the main. The new system deals with society as a whole and throughout -all its parts. It requires a full comprehension of each and all the -groups or classes of social phenomena and their inter-relations. - -Viewing society as a whole, we realize that there are no remedial -specifics in the case, that general happiness will be obtained only by a -process of evolution, and that the process is one of continual -readjustment of multitudinous relations, or unceasing adaptation of -individual human life to a social environment, and of social environment -to individual human life. The evolution of social environment proceeds -towards the highest ethical state which implies a system of society -based upon justice and equality. But the realization of this state -requires a perfected humanity, hence the path of progress is also in the -gradual improvement of individuals—the creation of a superior race whose -spontaneous impulses will construct and support a perfected social -system. - -Unconscious evolution has carried us forward from savagery through many -transitions to a state of civilization which, though grossly imperfect, -contains within it a new element of advance. Here and there throughout -society the power of love and reason combined has become strong, and -aided by a scientific knowledge of man and the conditions of his life, -it is capable of design, and of intensifying the action of evolutionary -forces and immensely increasing their momentum. Reason, however, must -invent an effective policy of meliorism which so unites the practical -methods of reform as that each will add strength to all, and the result -prove a powerful factor of change in the society on which it is brought -to bear. - -The strife of competition throughout the whole sphere of industrial life -gives free play to selfishness and the passion of militancy, and -permeates society with the warlike spirit. - -Advance in morals is the sure step to a better and happier future; but -man’s moral nature is largely conditioned by heredity, training and -environment, while these, at present, are all unfavourable to a high -moral state. A progressive system of general reform therefore has to -embrace and combine rational breeding, rational training and a rational -order of life in which sympathy and co-operation will take the place of -individual competition, and general happiness—not wealth—be the clear -aim of man. - -The conscious element in evolution is as yet too weak to alter society -much or rapidly, but in all civilized countries—Germany, France, -Belgium, etc., as well as Great Britain,—changes towards the collective -control of land and capital and the reorganization of industry on -collectivist principles, have begun, and it is of supreme importance -that other changes, equally necessary, should be initiated to advance -_pari-passu_ with those. - -A central source of corruption is to be found in the disintegration of -the ancient family group—the unfitness of an archaic domestic system to -achieve the ends of rational training and the acquiring of habits of -rational breeding. At the same time there is a growth in social feeling -and a spread of public opinion in favour of industrial socialism with -some legislative and local action to carry it out, that together, -present conditions propitious to change in domestic living and sexual -custom. Consequently a reconstruction of domestic life on modern -principles among educated people fitted to adapt life to moral ends is -pre-eminently a feature of the new order. - -At present excessive labour on the part of the proletariat, and enforced -idleness on the part of many men and women within the classes, are fatal -to progress. Vital forces are exhausted on the one hand, repressed on -the other, while the sub-conscious feeling that craves unity and -solidarity is outraged and restrained. To restore _work_ to its -legitimate place in human life is a primary aim of the new domestic -system. That system must be built up on the principle that work for the -benefit of all is the duty and privilege of each, and without a due -share of social labour no normal man or woman in health can attain to -inward peace. - -As regards religion, man’s abstract thought must purge itself from -materialized ideals, his concrete thought from selfish aims, for he is -essentially a religious being and psychical studies affirm that within -him there lie latent faculties that relate him to worlds unseen—worlds -as yet unrealizable in human consciousness. - -In the visible world religious forces must be directed to the great work -of social reform. To unselfishly promote the welfare of generations -unborn is a profoundly religious course of action. The purest, noblest -feelings of man may be enlisted in the cause of progress through -union—for social reconstruction, scientific education, gentle training -of the young, associated domestic life, facilitation of happy -marriage—and for the comfort of all mankind, whether good or bad, clever -or dull, fortunate or unfortunate. - -Co-operation in work to the banishment of idleness and its accompanying -misery _ennui_ is the primary object of the new domestic system, but -other ends to attain are—economy, by means of joint labour and joint -expense to the relief of monetary anxieties and domestic worries; -stability of social position, i.e. no member needing to fear that his -home will break up independently of his wishes; social intercourse and -enjoyment relieved of conventional etiquette or tyranny; freedom for -friendship between the sexes and such conditions of family union as will -promote mental capacity and altruistic sentiment in each individual; -early marriage without disregard of social responsibility and based upon -mutual knowledge of character, habits and tastes; a fitting refuge for -old age, rendering impossible the premature destruction of valuable -social forces which age alone can supply, and securing the material, -intellectual and emotional surroundings necessary for comfort up to the -last moment of life. - -In the lower social strata where any reconstruction of family life is -not yet possible, what is immediately required is a gradual rise of -wages with steady improvement in all the conditions of industrial -labour. Society also must relinquish such patronage of the poor as -fosters their too rapid increase, undermines their self-dependence and -tends generally to deterioration of race. Parental responsibility must -be strongly inculcated and strictly upheld. Public teaching should be -given in all natural laws affecting society, especially the laws of -health, increase, and heredity; and, under conditions respectful to -human dignity, Malthusian doctrine should be taught, and a knowledge of -neo-Malthusian method very carefully imparted. - -In the higher social strata within the newly constructed modern homes -sexual conduct and parentage with its far-reaching results for good or -evil must be controlled or guided into the path of racial regeneration. -The scientific study of man’s nature gives sexual passion an honourable -position relatively to human life. It rests on the conscience of each -adult generation as an imperative social duty to influence the young -generation in such wise as that this great passion shall subserve -physical and social health and cease to create degradation. - -A due activity in growing organs strengthens organic function; -therefore, with early marriages and freedom to young love, checked only -by scientific knowledge of the laws of health, propagation at the age of -maturity is bound to put forth vitality of good quality. In conscious -evolution sexual functions are no longer regarded as essentially allied -with propagation. They are regarded, however, as properly subject in -youth to parental and social control; and that control acts as a -perpetual restraint upon licentious, dissolute tendencies and a shield -to the young love that seeks personal happiness consistent with domestic -purity. - -No less potent is the action of control in another direction. Physiology -of sex and the laws of inheritance are carefully studied by guardians of -domestic peace who, rejecting the ordinary and vulgar conception accept -the teaching of science, and science points to philoprogenitiveness, or -love of offspring, as the proper motor force in reproduction. Were this -force the antecedent cause of parentage throughout the nation, disease -and premature death would be undermined and gradually subside. -“Indiscriminate survival” gives way before that “rational selection and -birth of the fit” which is a fundamental condition of social -well-being—the master-spring to a rapid evolution of general happiness. - -The transition, however, from our present state of confused sentiment, -illogical thought, and disastrous action in the field of _eugenics_ or -stirpiculture, to clearness of purpose and consistency of life, must -necessarily be a work of extreme delicacy and patient endeavour. Its -achievement requires the nuclei of collectivist homes. Its nurture must -take place in the bosom of a superior domestic life. The process, in -short, implies an alteration in humanity itself, to be brought about by -such preparatory alteration in outward conditions as will set up and -bring into play the constant interaction of new social forces. - -Individualism in domestic life vitiates the movement towards socialism -outside domestic life, for it gives us misshapen units unfit for a -better social system—a system that seeks to banish tyranny, despotism, -pride, self-will and every anti-social emotion in order to establish the -perfect justice and equality that are essential to the highest ethical -state. It is a necessity of socialism to lay hold of the family and -fashion it anew so that it may produce a superior material of human -life, i.e. individual men and women whose enjoyments lie chiefly in -sympathy and whose spontaneous impulses are towards an essentially -social life. - -And further, not only is our present domestic system wholly incapable of -dealing with sex relations so as to adapt them to stirpiculture, not -only is it so feeble as to be absolutely impotent in the regulation of -the conduct of masculine youth outside its boundaries, but it is -destitute also of elements required in the organizing of a progressive -educational system. - -Home education has almost disappeared in the disintegration of family -life, while in society the strong forces of aggregation which under -diverse conditions of industry and convention group mankind in sections -have moulded schools to massive proportions. The youth of the nation is -in a great measure cut off from the home influences which are calculated -to teach mankind “humanities, not in the academic but in the real -sense.” It is congregated in universities and large schools for superior -culture and day schools for culture of a less exalted order. In the -former, young men and maidens are separated. Domesticity—the quality in -human nature on which depends the consolidation of society, is -disregarded, whilst to the development of mutual interests, affinity of -tastes, harmony of habits and unanimity of social aims between the sexes -no attention is paid during the plastic period of life when individual -character is in process of determination. In day schools boys and girls -are often associated, but under such conditions of mechanical routine, -cramming, conflicting and alternating authorities, irregular and erratic -forces of moral control, as to make these schools provocative of evil, -fostering every anti-social instinct of man. - -Co-ordination in the life of the young is the demand of the new system -of general reform. The nursery, school and playground must be -harmonized, and the entire juvenile orbit, within and without the home, -governed by intellectual and moral forces of fixed congruity. The object -and aim of true education is the fullest development of an individual’s -best powers of thought, feeling, action, by means of their happy -exercise at every stage of growth from childhood to maturity. Now -book-learning or culture in schools accomplishes very little, but a -direct study of nature is an incomparable aid to this end. Each object -and process in nature from that of the infinitely great to the -infinitely small—if fittingly dealt with by teachers—is instinct with -charm for the young of an intelligent race. It excites imagination, -awakens thought, kindles enthusiasm, stimulates every latent mental -faculty, while the endless variation of beauty in nature—under training -to close observation—makes aesthetic appeal to the sense perceptions, -and in calling forth wonder, admiration, delight adds richness -immeasurably to the quality of human life. Nevertheless the springs and -checks of a true education lie deep in a world of feeling. For their -exercise home-life is indispensable. Family love is the primary motor -force in the education of the feelings, and without the presence of a -wide domestic circle habitually fostering the sympathetic and repressing -the selfish emotions no high water-mark of civilization will be reached. - -There is in man a group of emotions of comparatively recent origin -requiring scientific treatment of the utmost delicacy and precision. On -the further development of that group depends in a very special manner -the rapid evolution of an ethical social system. The group is -threefold—egoistic, altruistic, moral. It comprises a sense of personal -rights, a sympathetic jealousy for the rights of others, an intellectual -and moral sentiment of justice, or equivalence of liberty and social -comfort for all mankind. The first element is already very perceptible -throughout society. The second is more rare; it must be strengthened or -assiduously created in the nursery, schoolroom and domestic circle by a -system of training whose characteristic is extreme gentleness. The -tender shoots of sympathetic jealousy are incapable of growth in an -environment of harsh sound or brutal force. Hence the authority that -begets antagonism has no place in the perfected education of the future. - -As the young emerge from childhood the responsibilities of life become -aids in education, and immensely develop the above emotions. Discipline -of conduct within their own order appertains to the young; whilst -society, within and without the domestic circle, demands the thorough -regulation of young life. Conduct clubs and combinations for a variety -of social ends, both sexes taking part, arise among the young; and these -promote in the highest degree the healthy growth of such virtuous -emotion and habits in the individual as are indispensable to ethical -socialism. The method adopted is a just and intelligent criticism to -which the youthful mind has previously been trained. - -Since pride of birth, pride of wealth and habits of domination and -luxury are all unfavourable to the growth of a moral sentiment of social -justice, it is not in the upper ranks of society we need look for the -public spirit that will devise methods of gradually equalizing the -labour of life and its rewards and undermining present class -distinctions. As little likely is the sentiment of social justice to -spring spontaneously in a fortunate capitalist class where pride of -acquisition strongly opposes the principle that reward should not be -proportioned to personal capacity—that mental labour has no title to -inordinate distinction, but that other useful exertion ethically -requires fullness of reward. Reconstruction is necessarily a growth from -below. From the proletariat comes the impulse towards industrial -reconstruction, and it is in the middle class—and the less wealthy -section of that class—that the beings exist who by segregation may form -collectivist homes capable of by-and-bye aggregating into the solid -foundation of a pure and elevated republican society. - -Education in these homes where mixture of ages, from the white-haired -centenarian to the infant in arms, creates all manner of tender ties, -where gentleness and love are the main stimuli in training, where -authority is exercised consistently and reasonably, and replaced at -maturity by reason and self-control—must eventuate in the production of -a superior moral and intellectual type. - -The order of social evolution, computed roughly, is as follows: In the -first stage, social equality exists; it is an epoch of savagery. In the -second stage, differentiation issuing in class distinctions takes place; -the birth of social inequality and injustice arising naturally through -exercise of superior brute force and cunning. Civilization has here its -genesis; and coercion, tyranny, robbery, injustice, avarice, love of -power, inequality, are stimuli of civilization and prime elements in the -formation of strong nations. Individuals who are inferior, then whole -classes socially weak, are compelled by forces, individual and social, -to minister to the wants of the strong and superior. Civilization -nurtured by inequality and injustice develops in the superior classes of -society and slowly spreads downwards. In the third stage, reaction -occurs, prompted by civilization itself! Justice and liberty develop in -the lower or inferior social classes and spread very slowly upwards -without destroying a civilization, become inherent in the superior type -of man. The fourth stage is one of readjustment in which civilization -becomes general and there is a gradual return to social equality. -Ultimately society will have no class distinctions of the present order, -no idlers or parasites, no poor and no coercive government. Voluntary -co-operation or concerted action for social ends is a self-regulating, -self-controlling force which, when fully developed in the new domestic -and industrial systems is able to dominate society throughout its length -and breadth. - -The path of social reform I advocate has now, in its main features, been -placed before my readers. - -Outside the general policy that will cause the direct action of the -system to become a great factor of social change, however, there are -sundry courses of less direct action, it is bound to pursue. These bear -relation to, first, pauperism and patronage of the poor; second, the -proletariat; third, the criminal classes; fourth, the position of woman; -fifth, the young; sixth, conventionalism; seventh, political action. - -In the first relation the specific policy is to carefully discriminate -between benevolence that is beneficial and benevolence that is -mischievous in its results on social well-being. Whilst exercising the -former, it gives no support to charities that hurt the independence of -the poor, or relieve them of parental responsibility. In reproduction it -discountenances and opposes the social force of _indiscriminate -selection_ which results in survival of the unfit. It seeks to initiate -and press forward the counteracting social force of _intelligent -selection_, which brings about the birth of the fit. - -In the second relation, the specific policy strenuously supports -combinations of workers for the raising of wages, mutual help and -democratic political aims preparatory to general socialism. - -In the third relation, the specific policy strives to enlighten public -opinion upon the nature of crime and the philosophic principles of its -treatment. It elaborates a new method in which vindictiveness, the -essence of punishment, has no existence; but gentleness towards all -evil-doers issues in, first, the effectual protection of society; -second, the reform of corrigible criminals; third, the gradual -extinction of crime. It urges upon government a cautious deliberate -adoption of this method. - -In the fourth relation, the action of the policy is to promote the -enfranchisement of women, and at every point aid the movement of advance -to the position of social equality of sex. - -In the fifth and sixth relations, it inculcates by admonition and -example, and especially among the young, a return to simplicity of -manners, habits and dress. It repudiates conventional etiquette, and -opposes the tyranny of fashion. It promotes the association of the sexes -in youth under condition of adult control, whether the union be that of -marriage, of friendship or of simple intercourse and companionship. It -discountenances and takes no part in the excitements of an artificial, -frivolous society, but it creates and fosters the vigorating excitements -of useful labour, alternating with unconstrained and “tranquil -delights.” - -In the seventh relation, the specific policy agitates for alteration of -the marriage laws, the laws of inheritance of property and the land -laws. Equality of sex is required as the basis of the marriage law, -accompanied by the condition of easy divorce in order to facilitate the -dissolution of false ties in favour of the true. The laws affecting -children require adaptation to the ethics of social justice and sex -equality. Laxity must give way to strictness in respect of parentage; -and child-birth be recognized as an event bearing directly upon the -interests of the general public. Hence modification here entails the -recognition of illegitimate children and the counteracting of the -vicious tendency to shirk parental duty and social responsibility. The -land and property laws must be adjusted to a levelling process—the -action of paring down large estates and diminishing the massive -proportions of private property so slowly as to create no individual -suffering or social confusion, such legislative measures being directed, -however, to land nationalization and nationalization of capital as their -final aim. - -In conclusion, let me add, I claim to have shown that “science in the -economic field gives certain facts from which a line of social evolution -may be foreshadowed,” and that religion and science give, in wider -fields, facts and principles that point to lines of illimitable -progression for man. “Whether these lines will be followed depends not -upon immutable laws beyond our control, but upon the _human will_.” The -general policy I advocate is distinctly reliable so long as it rests on -scientific methods and knowledge, but no question is finally exhausted. -In the sphere of rational reform free-thought must ever be considered -and respected. - - New occasions teach new duties; - Time makes ancient good uncouth; - They must upward still and onward, - Who would keep abreast of truth. - - - - - INDEX - - - A - - Abyssinians, The, 134 - - Acquisitiveness, 213 - - Adler, Hermann, 218 - - Adolescence, 257–266, 335, 341 - - Adulteration, 45 - - Aesthetic sentiment, 197–200, 203, 211, 215 - - Aged, The, 269–272, 331, 338 - - Allen, Dr. Nathan, 120 - - Amiel, 10 - - Anderson, Dr. J. A., 306 - - Anxiety, 117 - - Arabs, The, 134 - - Arians, 299 - - Arifura, The, 205 - - Aristotle, 235 - - Arkwright, 26 - - Arnold, Matthew, 150, 249 - - Asceticism, 15, 98, 105, 110, 113, 146, 156 - - Associated Homes, 276–283 - - Association, Young Men’s Christian, 322 - - Astral body, 317 - - Atonement doctrine, 315 - - - B - - Balfour, A. J., 231 - - Bardaisan, 301 - - Bebel, August, 112, 119, 149 - - Besant, Annie, 306, 315 - - Bickerton, A. W., 268, 272 - - Birth-rate, 80–93, 109, 265 - - Bishop, Mrs., 264 - - Blackley, Canon, 91 - - Bon, Dr. Le, 197, 211 - - Bosanquet, Mrs. B., 65 - - Bread-baking, 72 - - Buddhism, 293–295, 300, 303 - - Bushmen, The, 132 - - - C - - Capital, 25, 41, 55, 329 - - Capitalists, 26, 41, 208, 338 - - Carlyle, Thomas, 5, 163 - - Carpenter, Edward, 16, 19, 142–144, 148 - - Carr, G. Shoobridge, 85, 92 - - Celibacy, 90, 95, 111, 126–129, 138, 172 - - Celsus, 298 - - Chatterji, J. C., 1, 295 - - Chesterfield, Lord, 199 - - Children, 3, 233, 238–253, 281 - - Children, Training of, 176–179, 188–194, 197, 237–253, 264, 281, 282, - 331, 335–338 - - Church, The, 321–323 - - Civilization, 38–40, 44, 204, 206, 216, 233, 248, 250, 297, 319, 328, - 339 - - Clairvoyance, 9 - - Clarke, William, 23, 46 - - Clement of Alexandria, 298 - - Cochrane, Baillie, 180 - - Combe, George, 170 - - Communism, 59 - - Consciousness, 290–295, 303, 313–318, 325 - - Co-operation, 51, 331, 339 - - Craig, E. T., 178 - - Criticism, Personal, 278 - - Crime, 121, 163–182, 340 - - Criminals, 67, 82, 121, 122, 164–182, 340 - - Crockett, S. R., 174 - - Culture, 7, 13, 95 - - - D - - Dairy produce, 70 - - Dalton, 205 - - Darwin, Charles, 80, 83, 91, 93, 96, 125 - - Death-rate, 89–93, 110 - - Degeneration of race, 83, 91, 115, 123, 159, 332 - - Dhimal, The, 205 - - Disease, 91, 99, 115–120, 124, 150, 170, 215 - - Divorce, 135, 136, 341 - - Domestic reform, 244, 265, 268–283, 330, 334, 338 - - Du Cane, Sir E., 164 - - Duncan, Mathews, 126 - - - E - - Easton, Abel, 279 - - Economics, 21–75 - - Education, 115, 166, 174, 177–179, 182, 234–253, 331, 335–338 - - Education, State, 66–69, 244, 269 - - Ellis, Havelock, 103–105, 142 - - Eliot, George, 5, 6, 12, 115, 222 - - Emerson, R. W., 139 - - Emigration, 93 - - Empedocles, 299 - - Environment, 204, 239, 250, 253, 321, 328 - - Escott, T. H. S., 273 - - Estlake, Allan, 279, 280 - - Eugenics, 114–130, 196, 283, 330, 333, 334, 340 - - - F - - Fabian Essays, 25 - - Factories, 25, 27–30, 55, 209 - - Fashion, 200, 245, 331, 341 - - Finck, Henry, 264, 265 - - Fitz-Stephen, Judge, 164, 167 - - Food, 23, 34, 39, 79, 84, 92 - - Freedom, 16 - - Free-will, 292 - - - G - - Galton, Francis, 94, 126–129, 172, 325 - - Gaskell, G. A., 109, 157 - - Geddes, Patrick, 94, 157 - - George, Henry, 32, 43 - - _Ginx’s Baby_, 155 - - Gnostics, The, 299–301 - - Goodness, 4, 18, 105, 206 - - Government, 211 - - Greg, W. Rathbone, 99, 100 - - - H - - Happiness, 1–19, 98, 146, 188, 218, 232, 266, 270, 272, 325–329 - - Hardy, Thomas, 258, 263 - - Harmony, New, 30 - - Harrison, Clifford, 253 - - Harrison, Frederic, 45 - - Harte, Richard, 131, 326 - - Health, 116, 129, 196, 333 - - Hearn, Lafcadio, 303, 304 - - Henry, Arthur, 239 - - Heredity, 108, 114, 120–124,158, 169, 237, 304, 305, 307, 329 - - Hill, Frederick, 168, 169, 171 - - Hinduism, 289, 291, 292 - - Hinton, James, 103 - - Hobson, John A., 21, 33, 46, 51, 74, 232 - - Hooker, Sir W., 205 - - Horticulture, 195 - - Hos, The, 205 - - Hottentots, The, 134 - - Howells, W. D., 213 - - Huxley, T. H., 9, 12, 79, 92, 96, 214, 241, 249, 258, 304, 323 - - - I - - Ibsen, H., 104 - - Individual Rights, 185–200, 233, 250, 339 - - Industry, Organized, 48, 51–75, 210 - - Industrial Revolution, 23–50 - - Industries, Routine, 72 - - Interest, 54, 57 - - - J - - Jakuns, The, 205 - - Jamieson, Mrs., 223 - - Jealousy, 137, 138, 203, 218–228, 239 - - Jews, The, 134 - - Joli, Henri, 122 - - Josephus, 300 - - Justice, 188–196, 230, 233, 250, 282, 291, 296, 305, 328, 338 - - - K - - Kandyans, The, 132 - - Karma, 291, 294, 299, 303 - - - L - - Labourers, 25, 31, 34, 36, 40–43, 72 - - “Laissez-faire,” 81, 82, 98, 166 - - Lange, 125 - - Landlords, 24, 33–44, 54, 209 - - Land Problem, 33–44, 329, 342 - - Laveleye, Emil de, 11 - - Law of Causation, 291 - - Leadbeater, C. W., 299 - - Lecky, W. E. H., 111, 138, 202 - - Legge, 293 - - Legislation, 61–65, 339 - - Lepchas, The, 205 - - Lessing, 308 - - Letourneau, Charles, 33 - - Levy, J. H., 200 - - Lewes, G. H., 102 - - Liszt, Von, 122 - - Lodge, Sir Oliver, 9, 287 - - Lofft, Capel, 248 - - Logos, The, 290, 312 - - Luxury, 7 - - - M - - Machinery, 26, 55, 240, 272, 275 - - Maeterlinck, M., 103 - - Mahan, Captain, 230 - - Mallet, Lucas, 282 - - Malthus, 79, 83, 93, 96, 127 - - Manicheans, 299, 300 - - Marriage, 126–128, 131–148, 219, 283, 331, 341 - - Marriage-rate, 86–90, 126 - - Martineau, Harriet, 110, 268, 270 - - Massart, Jean, 274 - - Massingham, H. W., 262, 265 - - Mathews, Justice, 164, 165 - - Maudsley, Dr. Henry, 117, 123, 237 - - Mead, G. R. S., 301 - - Meredith, George, 196 - - Militancy, 206–210, 222, 229, 231, 329 - - Mill, John Stuart, 30, 41 - - Milton, John, 140 - - Mischler, Dr., 122 - - Morrison, W. D., 121, 123 - - Municipalism, 66, 72, 273 - - Mysticism, 298–303, 318, 323 - - - N - - Nairs, The, 132, 137 - - Natural Selection, 81, 83, 130, 159 - - Nirvana, 295 - - Nordau, Max, 185 - - Noyes, J. H., 279 - - - O - - Obermair, 180 - - Ogle, Dr. Wm., 86, 88 - - Oneida Community, 108, 278–280 - - Origen, 298, 299 - - Owen, Robert, 28–32 - - Owen, R. Dale, 26–29 - - Ozanam, A. F., 300 - - - P - - Paget, Sir James, 119 - - Parasitism, 274 - - Parentage, 149–160, 237, 269, 333, 341 - - Parsis, The, 292, 301 - - Paths of the Soul, 309–311 - - Patriotism, 228–233 - - Patronage, 7, 242, 332, 340 - - Pauperism, 42, 90, 271 - - Peace, 210, 230, 326 - - Pelasgians, 299 - - Pharisees, 300 - - Philanthropy, 58, 82, 160 - - Plato, 299 - - Pleasure, 2, 14 - - Podhalians, The, 197, 211 - - Political Economy, 53, 54, 82 - - Population, 56, 83–96, 109, 128, 265, 269 - - Positivism, 9–12 - - Poverty, 24–32, 41, 81, 90, 95, 108, 116, 150, 158, 169, 213, 240 - - Priesthood, 38 - - Profits, 24, 37, 54–56 - - Property, Private, 24, 39, 55, 210–217, 242, 342 - - Prostitution, 111, 112, 135, 136, 142, 145 - - Protestantism, 302 - - Psychic phenomena, 303, 318, 326 - - Punishment, 163–168, 176–178, 246 - - Puritanism, 110 - - Pythagoras, 299 - - - R - - Rapacity, 207–210 - - Reade, Chas., 260 - - Reclus, Elisee, 133 - - Redskins, The, 134 - - Re-incarnation, 291, 294, 296, 299, 301–308 - - Religion, 10, 285–323, 330 - - Rent, 54–57 - - Responsibility, 291 - - Richardson, Dr. W. B., 114, 118 - - Rights, Individual, 185–194 - - Ritchie, David G., 183 - - Robertson, John M., 17, 124, 126, 231 - - Robertson, F. W., 309 - - Robe of Righteousness, 316 - - Rogers, Thorold, 271 - - Rowntree, 31 - - Ruskin, John, 8, 12, 175 - - - S - - Sacrifice, 312–315 - - Santals, The, 205 - - Schooling, J. Holt, 109 - - Science, 9 - - “Scientific Meliorism”—Preface, 101, 114 - - Servant problem, 274–277 - - Sexual instinct, 95, 97–113, 144, 332, 333 - - Shakespeare, 221 - - Shareholders, 24, 55 - - Sinnett, A. P., 308, 313 - - Slater, J. E., 289 - - Slavery, 36, 219 - - Sloan, J. McGavin, 217 - - Smith, Goldwin, 32 - - Socialism, 30, 52–60, 82, 199, 259, 265, 320, 323, 329, 330, 340 - - Social justice, 44, 52, 59, 185–200, 334 - - Somerville, Mary, 270 - - Spencer, Herbert, 14, 84, 93, 95, 96, 99, 125, 132, 136, 140–1, 152, - 158, 175, 181, 185, 206, 211, 290 - - Stephenson, R. L., 193 - - Stirpiculture, 114–130, 196, 283, 330–334, 340 - - Swan, Howard, 243 - - Sympathetic Selection, 83, 125, 159, 283, 333 - - Sympathy, 82, 102, 125, 188, 191, 194, 199, 205, 224, 264, 266, 313, - 322, 329, 334 - - Syphilis, 119 - - - T - - Taoism, 292 - - Taylor, Isaac, 281, 282 - - Telepathy, 9 - - Tennyson, Alfred, 161, 213, 257, 267 - - Tertullian, 302 - - Thompson, D’Arcy W., 246 - - Thompson, A. M., 218 - - Thomson, J. B., 169 - - Thoreau, 104 - - Tibetans, The, 132 - - Tolstoi, Leo, 138 - - Trinity, The, 290, 297 - - Trollope, Anthony, 257, 262 - - Trusts, 47, 70 - - Tyranny, 207, 210, 334 - - - U - - Unitary Homes, 276–283 - - Unknowable, The, 290 - - - V - - Vedas, The, 289 - - Vedas, The, 132 - - Venereal disease, 119 - - - W - - Wade, 26 - - Wages, 24, 26, 42, 45, 56, 68, 70 - - Ward, Lester F., 49, 108, 321 - - Watt, James, 26 - - Wealth, 7, 41, 44, 57, 81, 123, 208, 212–216, 242, 273, 274, 319, 337 - - Webb, Sidney, 41, 45, 56 - - Wells, D. A., 122 - - Wells, H. G., 325 - - Whitman, Walt, 105 - - Wines, Howard, 122 - - Woman, 219–227, 248, 259, 265, 269, 340 - - Wordsworth, William, 198 - - Worship, 288, 293 - - - Z - - Zola, Emile, 97, 114, 327 - - Zoroastrianism, 292, 301 - - - Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in - spelling. - 2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. - 3. 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